How did Jandar Delancy end up at the Red Poppy theater house in Vellumis, major import city of Lastwall?
Even to himself, the gnome wasn’t sure. Yesterday, of the minor Knight captains had come to him with a grave face (hardly unusual with the dour paladins that made up the Knights of Lastwall).
There had been a robbery the night before, of the elven embassy in Vellumis. Tensions with the elves were already high as Kyonin consistently refused to send aid to Lastwall’s watch upon both the orc ridden Hold of Belkzen or Ustalav. The theft of a Unending Tome had trigged recriminations on both sides and needed to be solved now. For their part the embassy demanded a neutral third party to solve the case and unravel the mystery.
The captain, named Orlem, had been frank. He thought it was the activity of the some of the recently growing criminal organizations in Vellumis. The Knights generally ignored such things, focused on the bigger picture but some of the hierarchy was beginning to worry about the recent upswing in crime (and their increasingly dangerous weapons).
The crime itself mattered little, Orlem had said. He was more interested in rooting out these criminals once and for all. He thought they used various theater troupes as a front for smuggling and fencing illegal goods. The paladins would be hard pressed to blend into the crowd so perhaps the overly comedic gnome might be a good fit? He had a few leads and thought the troupe performing at the Red Poppy this night was involved in some way with the theft and with the various criminal organizations rising in the city.
So following Orlem’s lead the gnome was in the Red Poppy wondering how he should get to the bottom of this mystery….
The theater itself was a ramshackle round building, made of weathered wood, covered with peeling paint. Theater was a neglected art in Lastwall, so little money was invested. The building was full though, mostly of foreigners from the various embassies and foreigners who traded in the bustling city. Elves were very absent however. The next play, The Rising of the Sun (a comedy) was about to begin as Jandar entered the packed seating area, crowded with drunk men, rowdy dwarves and even a few rosy faced Halflings. The stage was empty, but the show was about to begin.
The magical lights floating near the ceiling were a bright blue, giving everyone a weird tinted look. The floor was strewn with garbage and used food, the usual theater fare of nuts and fruit. It was a raucous, well-liquored crowd.
Jandar walked slowly, yet with purpose, around the outside of the main crowd near the back of the room. Specifically searching out a table with a halfling, he spied his target and walked over. Bits of food and who knows what else ground underfoot, but Jandar, not bothered by such things, foraged ahead.
As he arrived near the table, he quietly nodded his head toward the empty seat beside the halfling girl.
"Mind if I join you," he asked . He then reached up and absentmindedly gave his long, grey mustache a small tug. He observed the halfling carefully, while still keeping an eye on the raucous crowd all around.
The halfling is a portly woman, verging on fat. She has blond hair and a ruddy complexion. Obviously enjoying herself, she has a bottle of wine on hand and the remains of a dinner by her. Waving amiably at Jandar, she clears him a space to sit. "Not at all, please sit. Here for the show?"
Her accent places her as a native, of middle class education. She seems honest enough and just having a good time.
The crowd mills around them, babbling on before the next act starts.
You sure know how to pick a beauty, Jandar. Jandar chuckles inside his head.
Jandar looks around for a serving girl.
"Thanks. I'm looking forward to the show! Ahhh ... any idea what the show is about? I don't even know the name!"
Time to put on the stupid act while I keep an eye on things around here
"Any idea how one goes about getting a drink around here?"
Jandar looks around but spots no serving people. In a cheap theater like this, there is little to no staff. The only staff he saw were a few burly bouncers on the way in and a dead-eyed accountant watching the money box.
There are a few men roaming about selling fruit and nuts though, hoping to make a few coins selling to the hungry crowd. It was good work, even if they had to split the take with the performing troupe.
The halfling nods and says, "Oh, the next one is the The Rising Sun. You know, the funny one about the milkmaid, the priest and the set of twins?" She giggles a bit and says, obviously slurring a bit, 'As for drink, I brought my own." she gulps down some more of her wine.
'I don't recognize you, friend. New to the city? You don't have a Lastwall accent."
"I am not really from anywhere," he replies. "So yeah, I guess I must have an accent. Maybe you can help me learn a bit more? Is there name for the common accent I hear around here?"
I just call it the drunk accent he thinks to himself.
"Did you say the milkmaid has a set of twins? Is that what they call those around here?" Jandar smiles, then turns his attention to the stage, looking for anything that might lead him to where he ought to look for a clue.
I don't really need a drink, but should try and fit in. Maybe the guy behind me won't mind me swiping his bottle while he looks away.
Jandar looks around for a target and waits for them to look away from the drink closest to them. If there's an empty bottle, he will reach for that one.
Jandar effortlessly swipes the bottle of wine from behind him. Inspecting it it seems to be a rather high quality pepper wine. Just as he retrieves it, the lights dim and focus on the stage.
A tall, distinguished man with graying hair steps onto the stage, bows and says in a deep baritone, "Lords and ladies, guests of all stripes. May I present to you the next show, The Rising Sun!"
The crowd claps and cheers and soon the play is on in full force. It moves quickly but seems to be well performed. It is a show full of jokes, missed chances and misunderstandings. The crowd loves it, clapping, cheering, catcalling and chattering through it all.
The halfling near Jandar is one of the loudest clappers and prolonged cheerers.
"You enjoyed that did you?" Jandar asks with feigned curiousity. "What was your favourite part?
Jandar slurs his words slightly, a fakes another swig from the bottle.
"You wouldn't happen to know any of the actors would ya?"
Jandar keeps an eye on the stage, trying to make sure that he can see if anything strange is happening.
Even if she can't help, and I doubt she can, I need to find a way to get up there and follow the troupe to wherever they are staying. It's my only clue, and I need to follow it.
The halfling nods in agreement, 'One of my favorites."
She sways slightly in her seat as she ponders the gnome's other question. It takes her awhile before her words form clearly, "Not really. They are the Marqi Troupe, that was the name of the gray-haired fellow at the start. They've been here for a few weeks. Great shows, love them. I heard they are leaving soon though..." she says and gulps some more wine.
"I'll see you later," Jandar says while slowly rising to his feet. "Thanks for sharing your table!"
Without a backward glance, Jandar walks casually toward the stage, looking for someone from the troupe to try and flag down for a conversation.
Jandar makes his way to the stage, pushing through the applauding crowd. He pushes past chairs and tables, squeezes pas fat merchants, and hops piles of food on the ground.
As he gets closer suddenly one of the food-sellers rises in front of him, hawking his wares, "Apples, fresh apples!" He almost knocks Jandar over.
As the gnome gets his balance, another man does knock into him. A young man, not much more then a teen, knocks him hard, shouldering past. "Sorry, sir!" the boy says, before winding through the crowd headed for the back exits of the theater.
Jandar notices nothing.
A strange sensation trickles down Jandar's back as he continues toward the stage. He continues on, however, intent on his destination.
Reaching the stage, he takes a few minutes to observe, looking specifically for an individual that is working on the take down of the props and other stage items.
Jandar navigates the maze of people, benches and other items to dim backstage area. He finds a very fat man shouting orders at the men taking down the curtains, tables and other props. he has a red face, and a gray bread (with elegant sideburns).
He catches sight of the gnome and barks, 'Who the hell are you? Get off my stage!"
"Who am I?" Jandar muses. "Who am I indeed? And who's stage is this?"
Jandar pauses, very briefly to let the response sink in, but continues speaking before the man can interrupt him.
"I am, well, myself. My name is Jandar; and a better question might be who's building is this? The very ground beneath your stage, indeed, the air you breath; who's is it? I believe that all things in this wonderful city are owned by the glorious Watcher-Lord Ulthun II and further by the honorable Precentors Martial of the War College. Barring that, we would have to look to the very gods themselves for ownership. You see what I mean good man?"
"Now, I don't want to be too much bother; I can see you are very busy, however, I just wish to meet the man in charge of your troupe, or is it a company? I have a very interesting business proposition for him, one that I think he would be most interested to discuss. Could you please point me in the correct direction?
The man appears thrown by this bizarre litany of philosophy. The words of business opportunity through seem to be clear to him.
"Marqi is in charge. He should be backstage, probably in that direction." he points a beefy hand at the left side of the stage, still eyeing the gnome oddly.
Then he turns back to the stagehands and starts barking more orders.