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Message: <blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2284217" data-attributes="member: 17151">Big night at the Gorgon, Chapter 2Big night at the Gorgon, Chapter 2        As Theodyl Vair sprang onto the stage and struck a pose.  He started to sing a bawdy tune keeping rhythm with a stylish harp carved like a bow.  From his position on stage he could watch both the front and side alley doors.  His hands quickened dexterously over the strings, making the previously shaken gnome walk with a renewed spring in his step as he exited.  A stolid, humorless Sister of the Silver Flame bumped into him as he crossed the threshold.  Her dark brown eyes met Theodyl's for the briefest moment as she went straight to the bar with a token in her impatient hand.  The gnome didn't quite lose the spring in his step, but he shivered as he hit the dimly lit, streets deep in the towers of Sharn.    The well-traveled bard put on a boisterous show.  After two more nearly obscene favorites, he put on a ventriloquist act with an allegedly enchanted beer stein.  The Gorgon's Eye shook with laughter.  It has the personality of a drunken, irreverent, very disorderly Legionaire from the Mror Holds.  The Orcish barkeep was the first one to ad-lib.  The maids added their own commentary as did the majority of the patrons.   A respectable dwarf wouldn't be seen in the Gorgon's Eye and so their opinion doesn't count.  The blond haired half-elf made a lot of people laugh and sing with that act.  Afterwards he juggled random items as he cracked jokes and flirted with the audience.  He even managed to get several of the fierce wenches to wink back at his playful green eyes.    After his act Theodyl lay his token at the bar and waited to meet with the unhappy looking Sister.  He sauntered up to her booth with thick Black Earth foam dripping from his beer stein.  He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before taking a seat.        “You take this too far,” She said with a frown.  (It's a cover woman, play along!)        “Oh, come now, cousin, enjoy yourself.  Sip your tea and watch how the     mortals live.” She seethed at this, but she did take a sip.  (They always send a stiff.)        “Enough, I am very cross with you.  First, you disappear without leave and then you reappear in my district without notice.  I have more problems than I need here, I especially don't need your connection with two consecutive irritations on the same day.  If you don't tell me what you were doing with that gnome, I will make your life very difficult.” (Theodyl wasn't impressed.  She is actually imitating every other bureaucrat he's met in Sharn.  They must all share the same tea room.)        “Good Sister, your predecessor lost track of me and didn't bother to look.   It only took you a week to find me when you put your mind to it.  I move down two or three levels and everyone acts like I've disappeared.  I am a Private Inquisitive, my name is in the Registry and my office has been open for years.” (Translation: He was lazy and you are slow.)          “A false name, that of your war-time commander, if I am correct.  Your methods are questionable and you associate with known criminals in repulsive taverns.” (Now she wants to preach.  She will threaten me eventually.)        “The Inquisition is boring, and the Flame isn't a battering ram you know. The gnome is a client, I am handling a personal transaction for him.  His family is in difficult straights.  Why do you want him, he's just another naive desk-gnome with a fetish for neat script and ambiguous legal jargon.” (An insult, a carefully edited truth and random nonsense.  The art of conversation isn't dead.)        “Your gnome has access to some restricted literature and we want to know  where he found it.” She replied angrily.  (The insult stung her, and she is giving  away more than she should.  I will have to keep her from recovering, maybe more insults are in order.)        “Gnomes are boring too.  I don't see them reading anything interesting enough to impress me. Besides the Flame restricts children's stories about werewolves with the same zeal they burn books about anatomy.  What exactly do you mean by restricted?” (Pointing out hypocrisy is better than insults).        “Do not bait me.  I want to know exactly what you two spoke about.”        “Sorry, I have a contract.  Besides, he presented a Token, I can't violate Guild rules or the Law.  Your wise Council was very particular about that.  They extracted an exasperating Oath in exchange for my Charter; I will obey all Laws, Regulations, Statues of Morality...”  (Please try again. I've already pointed out that this isn't the Inquisition.  Don't they teach Diplomacy at the Temples?)        “Indeed.  You had a previous criminal record.  You would not be operating in Sharn if I had anything to say about it.  I believe that your clever words will not avail you when you slip up.  I know how to handle your kind.” (Oh, she's making it easy.  That was a threat, she probably doesn't have a good bargaining position. Time to blindside her.)        “Cousin, please, you make me out to be a wanton criminal.  You are not the law, you merely serve it.  You are here because you want something, what is it?” (I could have summoned up a tear there.  Inquisitors love that stuff.  I don't want to have to bed her, though; if she likes that sort of power.)        “The gnome is in contact with a group of renegade war-forged from Cyre,    I want to know where they are.  I will also need to know why they contacted him in the first place.” (Thank you very much.)        “He did mention having to meet a pushy war-forged courier at he end of the week.  The war-forged is 3 days early for his usual pick-up.  It's not very regular.” (As soon as she sees the gnome's appointment calendar she'll be sold. She will probably think herself an expert negotiator after this.)        “What is it's name and where did it come from?” She demanded.  Her gloved hand brushed a fancy brooch with her palm.  Theodyl recognized a devine symbol for truth embellishing the item and quickly changed his tack.  At first, he merely wanted to distract her while he drew out her motives. Now he has to be careful. (Magic for dummies, will they never learn?)        “I didn't ask, but its just some document transfer, a manuscript from Cyre that they need copied.” Her expression didn't change, but her eyes grew wide.  (Technically the truth.  She doesn't care about the gnome or the war-forged, she wants the manuscript.)         “I want that copy and I also want this courier followed.” She ordered with a confident smirk.  (Predictable, time to shake her again.)         “You will have to deal with the Guild for that, I can't break the law.  As for the War-forged, I will need a 500gp deposit and a flat fee of 1, 000gp upon delivery.” Theodyl watched her lips tighten.  (She wasn't expecting to pay.  Ha!)        “You are being very difficult.” (She blinked, she will try a threat next.)        “Would you like to release me from my Oaths?  The Guilds and the City conspire against you.  It would be much easier otherwise.” Theodyl spoke the words smoothly, though he didn't expect her to fall for it.  (She is arrogant, not stupid.)        “Now you mock me.  A 1,000gp fee is excessive, and you don't need a deposit.” (Now she wants to bargain, clumsy, but maybe she is learning.)        “Take it or leave it, cousin.  I do not run errands and I don't play at business.  This is how I make a living.  My rates and fees are perfectly within Guild Regulations, would you see me starve?”         “I would see you in a dungeon for your heresies.” (No, she hasn't learned a thing, very boring.  Time to close and teach her all about threats.)        “You can't serve two masters and worry overmuch about heresy, cousin.”    Her mouth opened, nothing came out.  She licked her lips. Her mouth closed again.  He had spoken the absolute truth and her silly amulet had confirmed it. She had nothing more to say.  The Sister of the Silver Flame all but slammed the money purse upon the table.  He took her to the point of violence and she will not forgive easily.  She's a sore loser.  If she had a chance, she would have drawn that wicked looking mace on her belt.  He put out his hand and they shook on it.  Theodyl hadn't been expecting so much to come from a meeting with a gnome.          “Ye didn't have to tease her so much,” the dwarven face on the beer stein spoke, “a beardless woman has enough trouble.  I think ye should bed her Lad, take my advice, I know about these things.”      Theodyl laughed.  He pictured the Sister with fuzzy sideburns, like a dwarfish maid.  The dwarf was right, but he couldn't help trying to ease out some of that hot air the Sister seems to carry around.  Besides, he couldn't bed someone that serious, it wouldn't be any fun.  He signaled the barkeep, Trouble, and left a neat stack of gold coins on the table.    When the City Watch crashed through the front, he was already jogging through the sewers.  The Trace Coin the Sister secreted within her purse was tucked neatly within the padded seat at the booth, so they will have to track him through other means.  He has a contract with the Sister.  He will honor it, but just on general principles.  Collecting will be a problem to deal with later.  That will probably lead to an ambush, but not before she uses him to track the manuscript she wants.  Its a bargaining point, maybe.     His office might be watched or even raided.  That will not be a problem.  The Inquisitive named Thersyl was a throw-away cover to begin with.  He's been paying a local band of changelings to wear his face and occupy it to make it seem like he works there.  They even travel around with his bodyguard to lead the curious away.  His war-forged bodyguard only knows where to meet him and where to get his salary.  They will have a hard time trying to crack that war-forged maniac.  They would have to catch it first and to do that they would have to beat it senseless or even kill it.  The Bard named Theodyl Vair is different.  He likes that life, it is fun and interesting.  He will try to keep it, if at all possible.            “Quit yer dreaming' Lad, we are in the darkness below.  Do ye want to live to grow a beard?” the beer stein spoke in a serious whisper.         Theodyl sighed and patted the beer stein hanging from his belt.  The dwarven spirit inhabiting the item won't give his name.  They have only known one another for 15 years or so.  That isn't enough time to know a fellow, by dwarven terms.  He talks about everything else though, and he makes an excellent look-out.  A long filthy-gray tentacle snapped out from a large storm drain.  Theodyl danced around it and left it a little gift as he continued on without slowing down.  The alchemist's acid kept the garbage beast busy while he ran.  Anyone following would run into a now, very angry critter.  The beer stein chuckled.</blockquote>

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