talien
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The Last Resort - Part 3a: Conversing With Talbot Estus
Drinks and food were laid out at The Last Resort for an opening night reception. Bobbin Brandydale, the hotel’s owner, played the role of maitre d’ himself, seating guests and taking reservations.
Bobbin greeted Kham warmly.
“Bobbin? What are you doing here?” said Kham in disbelief. “What happened to the Pale Plate?”
“I sold it!” Bobbin led them over to a table in the corner. “Milton Drac always suspected we were a haven for…” he looked at Ilmarė and Beldin, “dissidents. His men constantly hassled us. When Drac died, business boomed. Me and my brother Edgar threw our savings together and, well, here we are!”
“Wow,” said Kham. “I’m glad things are working out for you. We just got out of the Freeport Opera House.”
“How was the play?”
“It was a real riot,” said Beldin, nursing his head.
“In that case, the first round is on the house.” Bobbin waved over a serving wench with mugs of ale. “We’ve got a few events planned tonight,” said Bobbin. “I think you know Henry Tranco, Kham?” Bobbin gestured towards a corner of inn, where a well-dressed, dark-haired man was shuffling cards. “He’s hosting a high stakes game of Three-Dragon Ante.”
“I remember Tranco.” Kham squinted at Henry, who waved back at him.
“The Countess d’Amberville is throwing an opening night reception for the cast of The Queen and the Stranger. I’m glad you enjoyed the play, The Last Resort’s fortunes rest on its success tonight.”
“In that case you—“
Kham cut Ilmarė off. “Thanks for the drinks Bobbin. We’ll try to keep our spirits up and the noise down.”
Bobbin nodded, scurrying off to deal with more patrons.
Kham watched Bobbin leave. Then he turned back to Ilmarė. “I don’t have the heart to tell him. I’m sure nobody’ll show up anyway.”
“You’d better hope the Sea Lord’s Guard doesn’t show up,” said Ilmarė.
“I doubt it,” said Kham. “People shoot at the Guard every day.”
“But they don’t usually do it wearing the Order of Drac,” said Beldin.
“I’m not the only one who’s a member of the Order of Drac.” Kham pointed at Beldin’s amulet.
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” said Ilmarė. “I have one of those amulets too, but I don’t go around flashing it to everybody.”
“Maybe you should,” Kham said with a smirk.
Before long, the cast duly appeared, served by a procession of waiters and serving maids. They all wore extravagant masks.
“Bobbin failed to mention that this is a masked ball,” said Ilmarė out of the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t look at me,” said Kham. “Blame Egil, he told me to meet him here. Speaking of which, has anyone see Egil?”
Few people ate or drank much. The atmosphere was awkward.
Ilmarė sighed and got up from the table.
“Where are you going?” asked Beldin.
“To talk to the cast.” She donned a violet, feathery mask. “I want to meet the creator of this stirring drama.”
And with that, she stalked over to the cast table.
Drinks and food were laid out at The Last Resort for an opening night reception. Bobbin Brandydale, the hotel’s owner, played the role of maitre d’ himself, seating guests and taking reservations.
Bobbin greeted Kham warmly.
“Bobbin? What are you doing here?” said Kham in disbelief. “What happened to the Pale Plate?”
“I sold it!” Bobbin led them over to a table in the corner. “Milton Drac always suspected we were a haven for…” he looked at Ilmarė and Beldin, “dissidents. His men constantly hassled us. When Drac died, business boomed. Me and my brother Edgar threw our savings together and, well, here we are!”
“Wow,” said Kham. “I’m glad things are working out for you. We just got out of the Freeport Opera House.”
“How was the play?”
“It was a real riot,” said Beldin, nursing his head.
“In that case, the first round is on the house.” Bobbin waved over a serving wench with mugs of ale. “We’ve got a few events planned tonight,” said Bobbin. “I think you know Henry Tranco, Kham?” Bobbin gestured towards a corner of inn, where a well-dressed, dark-haired man was shuffling cards. “He’s hosting a high stakes game of Three-Dragon Ante.”
“I remember Tranco.” Kham squinted at Henry, who waved back at him.
“The Countess d’Amberville is throwing an opening night reception for the cast of The Queen and the Stranger. I’m glad you enjoyed the play, The Last Resort’s fortunes rest on its success tonight.”
“In that case you—“
Kham cut Ilmarė off. “Thanks for the drinks Bobbin. We’ll try to keep our spirits up and the noise down.”
Bobbin nodded, scurrying off to deal with more patrons.
Kham watched Bobbin leave. Then he turned back to Ilmarė. “I don’t have the heart to tell him. I’m sure nobody’ll show up anyway.”
“You’d better hope the Sea Lord’s Guard doesn’t show up,” said Ilmarė.
“I doubt it,” said Kham. “People shoot at the Guard every day.”
“But they don’t usually do it wearing the Order of Drac,” said Beldin.
“I’m not the only one who’s a member of the Order of Drac.” Kham pointed at Beldin’s amulet.
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” said Ilmarė. “I have one of those amulets too, but I don’t go around flashing it to everybody.”
“Maybe you should,” Kham said with a smirk.
Before long, the cast duly appeared, served by a procession of waiters and serving maids. They all wore extravagant masks.
“Bobbin failed to mention that this is a masked ball,” said Ilmarė out of the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t look at me,” said Kham. “Blame Egil, he told me to meet him here. Speaking of which, has anyone see Egil?”
Few people ate or drank much. The atmosphere was awkward.
Ilmarė sighed and got up from the table.
“Where are you going?” asked Beldin.
“To talk to the cast.” She donned a violet, feathery mask. “I want to meet the creator of this stirring drama.”
And with that, she stalked over to the cast table.