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Pathfinder – Shadow in the Sky: the Harrowed
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<blockquote data-quote="Ambrus" data-source="post: 4933989" data-attributes="member: 17691"><p>Having effectively dispensed her winnings to the Gold Goblin's staff, Girri rises and begins milling about the bustling gaming hall floor. Seeing as how most of the room's occupants are sitting or slouched over the various game tables, the tall Varisian woman has a nearly unobstructed view of the entire hall. Those that stand out from the crowd are the individuals who, like Girri herself, are milling about; seemingly uninvolved in the gambling action occurring all around them. Most are staff members: bare chested bouncers scanning the room for problems, scantily clad succubi waitresses with trays of drinks hurrying to and from the bar and couriers transporting chips or coins from the tables to the counting rooms in the back.</p><p></p><p>The purpose of some of the others milling about require a little more scrutiny to determine however. For good or ill the Varisian woman soon discerns some discrete signs and signals being exchanged between, if not personally known individuals, people who seem all too familiar in the services they offer. Tarted up young women and men reveal themselves to be <em>quickwives</em> and <em>easy lads</em> offering their company or carnal services to those with the money to pay for the privilege. Many sport yellow silk scarves, sashes, dresses, tunics or triple dagger talismans; markers that identify them as <em>abbots</em> and <em>abbesses</em> of the House of the Silken Veil, Riddleport's temple of Calistria. It wasn't so long ago that Girri herself was an "acolyte" being made to tithe a share of her earnings to the temple's tiefling high pristess Shorafa Pamodae. Girri picks out a few familiar faces amongst their number; an older Chelaxian woman named Cealta who'd been working the Wharves District for years and a skinny Varisian adolescent lad named Gef who, as Girri watches, leads an older man towards one of the hall's private side rooms.</p><p></p><p>Passing by the bar, Girri catches a whiff of a familiar scent that makes her gut churn with both desire and disgust; the enticing stench of shiver. Turning instinctively, the Varisian woman sees that a burly bearded man with the telltale under bite of someone with orcish ancestry is discretely negotiating a sale with a pock-marked sailor with sunken eyes. His heritage and current activities reveals him to likely be one of Boss Croat's dream-mongers. In a familiar move the drug dealer has uncorked the vial in his hands, letting the illicit concoction's aroma inexorably lure the addicted sailor into a sale. With some difficulty Girri forces her feet to lead her away from that which her body craves so desperately.</p><p></p><p>Seeking a distraction, the Varisian woman quickly takes another sip from her drink and turns her attention back to the crowd. Girri soon catches sight of an unfamiliar young half-elven woman with Varisian tattoos on her face milling around the room. Much like Girri herself, the tattooed woman seems to be ignoring the gambling in favor of aimlessly studying the crowd. Turning in place the woman eventually makes eye contact with Girri and, seeming a little startled to find herself being observed, blushes and smiles shyly. The woman's reaction seems somehow odd to the Varisian Harrower, though she initially can't put her finger on the reason. Then she realizes the reason; Girri is simply unused to seeing anyone blush in the den of iniquity that is Riddleport.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ambrus, post: 4933989, member: 17691"] Having effectively dispensed her winnings to the Gold Goblin's staff, Girri rises and begins milling about the bustling gaming hall floor. Seeing as how most of the room's occupants are sitting or slouched over the various game tables, the tall Varisian woman has a nearly unobstructed view of the entire hall. Those that stand out from the crowd are the individuals who, like Girri herself, are milling about; seemingly uninvolved in the gambling action occurring all around them. Most are staff members: bare chested bouncers scanning the room for problems, scantily clad succubi waitresses with trays of drinks hurrying to and from the bar and couriers transporting chips or coins from the tables to the counting rooms in the back. The purpose of some of the others milling about require a little more scrutiny to determine however. For good or ill the Varisian woman soon discerns some discrete signs and signals being exchanged between, if not personally known individuals, people who seem all too familiar in the services they offer. Tarted up young women and men reveal themselves to be [I]quickwives[/I] and [I]easy lads[/I] offering their company or carnal services to those with the money to pay for the privilege. Many sport yellow silk scarves, sashes, dresses, tunics or triple dagger talismans; markers that identify them as [I]abbots[/I] and [I]abbesses[/I] of the House of the Silken Veil, Riddleport's temple of Calistria. It wasn't so long ago that Girri herself was an "acolyte" being made to tithe a share of her earnings to the temple's tiefling high pristess Shorafa Pamodae. Girri picks out a few familiar faces amongst their number; an older Chelaxian woman named Cealta who'd been working the Wharves District for years and a skinny Varisian adolescent lad named Gef who, as Girri watches, leads an older man towards one of the hall's private side rooms. Passing by the bar, Girri catches a whiff of a familiar scent that makes her gut churn with both desire and disgust; the enticing stench of shiver. Turning instinctively, the Varisian woman sees that a burly bearded man with the telltale under bite of someone with orcish ancestry is discretely negotiating a sale with a pock-marked sailor with sunken eyes. His heritage and current activities reveals him to likely be one of Boss Croat's dream-mongers. In a familiar move the drug dealer has uncorked the vial in his hands, letting the illicit concoction's aroma inexorably lure the addicted sailor into a sale. With some difficulty Girri forces her feet to lead her away from that which her body craves so desperately. Seeking a distraction, the Varisian woman quickly takes another sip from her drink and turns her attention back to the crowd. Girri soon catches sight of an unfamiliar young half-elven woman with Varisian tattoos on her face milling around the room. Much like Girri herself, the tattooed woman seems to be ignoring the gambling in favor of aimlessly studying the crowd. Turning in place the woman eventually makes eye contact with Girri and, seeming a little startled to find herself being observed, blushes and smiles shyly. The woman's reaction seems somehow odd to the Varisian Harrower, though she initially can't put her finger on the reason. Then she realizes the reason; Girri is simply unused to seeing anyone blush in the den of iniquity that is Riddleport. [/QUOTE]
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