The Game of Kings

[Dark_Jackalope]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash

Rengh turned his head to Doral again, but then just looked away and ordered up another drink for himself. Too drunken to care much about the beguiler anymore, he climbed cautiously down from the barstool and sauntered over to some other patrons he knew, leaving the two companions to talk over their drinks.


Across the room, Morika’s three drinking mates listened to her tale while downing their mugs. Delluch just stared, looking concerned at the pirate ‘uproar’ she spoke of, unaware of the foam left lingering on his rough beard. Bertrand gave the shifter a studying look, but then leaned back in his seat, clearly contented with her story.

Disonda also seemed to accept Morika’s explanation, until the end when she gave Morika a harder look, seeming to reconsider her. “Surely you’ve seen worse feuds than these, Reacher. It is unfortunate that a traveler should become tangled in these local matters… It is interesting that you should encounter them at all.”

Noticing that his drinking game had taken a turn towards less light and entertaining pathways, Bertrand quickly spoke up. “Come, Disonda, the rivalries in these waters are no secret. They have gone on as long Lhazaar is old, and surely won’t change anytime soon. It is no business to any of us what our Prince does to protect and grow our city…” Turning to Morika, he added, “And if I may say so, he does a fine job of that.” He perked up, and smiled to the whole group. “Now, we still have some drinking to do, if anyone’s going to win those bets!”

With that he waved for the fifth round, and they raised their mugs in a gestured toast once more before tossing in their coins and sinking into the sweet brew. As they drank, Bertrand and Delluch both started falling under the alcohol’s spell, but Disonda and Morika remained steady in comparison.

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash

As his drunken conversationalist gets up and leaves, Doral just mentally shrugs. He wasn't getting much information out of him, anyway. Drinking his drink, he sits back and watches Morika work. I could go over there, but I might ruin the mood. Better to watch the lady work for now. Doral otherwise keeps his eyes and ears open as he chats with Partash.

 

[MadMaxim]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash

Partash holds his glass of wine high for Doral to see: "Once more, to our success" he says. He takes a sip from the glass and continues: "So do you really think that we acquire any kind of important information in this place? I'm not questioning your methods, Doral, but don't you think we'd need to aim for higher society in some way? I doubt the rumors from sailors hold much value for us."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash

Disonda also seemed to accept Morika’s explanation, until the end when she gave Morika a harder look, seeming to reconsider her. “Surely you’ve seen worse feuds than these, Reacher. It is unfortunate that a traveler should become tangled in these local matters… It is interesting that you should encounter them at all.”

Noticing that his drinking game had taken a turn towards less light and entertaining pathways, Bertrand quickly spoke up. “Come, Disonda, the rivalries in these waters are no secret. They have gone on as long Lhazaar is old, and surely won’t change anytime soon. It is no business to any of us what our Prince does to protect and grow our city…” Turning to Morika, he added, “And if I may say so, he does a fine job of that.” He perked up, and smiled to the whole group. “Now, we still have some drinking to do, if anyone’s going to win those bets!”

With that he waved for the fifth round, and they raised their mugs in a gestured toast once more before tossing in their coins and sinking into the sweet brew. As they drank, Bertrand and Delluch both started falling under the alcohol’s spell, but Disonda and Morika remained steady in comparison.

"Aye, I've seen worse, and if the land were as peaceable as we're all supposed to think, there'd be no work for creatures like me. So... what's yer Prince doing to protect the city? If he's doing such a fine job, he might be a guy I could stand to work for, and pay well too!" Morika says with a bit of the laugh at the end, taking another swig.

 

[stonegod]

Dining Room, Sail and Sceptor Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver
OOC: Don't worry about the paper.

She sighs, her voice suddenly sounding weary and far older than her experience would lead one to believe.. "Heretical? Absolutely. But I have found that less people than one would expect willingly bear the burden of true faith in Thrane. Infighting and a desire to see one's rivals brought low but just such a story are the root of more stories than an actual yearning for the truth."

Turning to the girl, the kobold simply states, "There are truths and then there is the truth, and the Dragon Below lies between them. None of here is exactly what we seem, and this mission's true aim is mostly likely murky as well. There is little light in the real world, Mistress Glasia, remember that."

Seeing his companions, heads over to them. "I have a few errands to run around town this evening. Stuff to pick up, things to craft, and the like. Did you need me to escort you around town as well? Or shall I simply meet you after you have finished consuming things?"

The kobold, efficiently eating the meal's meat when Carver arrives, regards the warforged a moment. "You can do me this one favor. Make sure this gets to our friend Doral. Tell him to read the Dreadhold article; it may be pertinent to our current situation." The kobold folds the pertinent pages of the Chronicle and hand it to the 'forged. "On your walk, keep an eye out for things that have significantly changed since you last were here. Any news could be used."

Finished speaking for now, the kobold takes a sip of its beverage and regards any other patrons in the inn this night.

OOC: Seeing who else is in the dinning room and in nearby areas that Vhir can see.

 

[Bront]

The kobold, efficiently eating the meal's meat when Carver arrives, regards the warforged a moment. "You can do me this one favor. Make sure this gets to our friend Doral. Tell him to read the Dreadhold article; it may be pertinent to our current situation." The kobold folds the pertinent pages of the Chronicle and hand it to the 'forged. "On your walk, keep an eye out for things that have significantly changed since you last were here. Any news could be used."

Finished speaking for now, the kobold takes a sip of its beverage and regards any other patrons in the inn this night.

OOC: Seeing who else is in the dinning room and in nearby areas that Vhir can see.

Carver takes and examines the paper before he tucks it away. "Oh, I can do that. I know one of the women who hung out on the corners that I used carvings of bananas to missing, but perhaps she's moved someplace where there are real bananas. Oh, and I saw that old Ferdinan's store had a brand new cart in front of it, he'd been in need of one for a while. Does that help?"

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Partash holds his glass of wine high for Doral to see: "Once more, to our success" he says. He takes a sip from the glass and continues: "So do you really think that we acquire any kind of important information in this place? I'm not questioning your methods, Doral, but don't you think we'd need to aim for higher society in some way? I doubt the rumors from sailors hold much value for us."

Doral listens quietly to his fellow adventurer, the smile on his face breaking into seriousness for a moment. "No offense taken, since you are absolutely right. I had hoped that our task would be an easy one, but it's becoming obvious that we'll learn little here. My thinking was that Gaardasci's fate might be an open secret, but we would have heard something from the locals by now, I think. Also, it takes a crew to sail into enemy territory, capture someone, and bring him back. Unless you use a small band of skilled mercenaries. If Kolberkon used a band of adventurers to get at Gaardasci, then the circle of people that know what happened is quite small. Also, the men who conducted such an operation could be anyone from skilled sneaks to richer men with magical means. So now we need to change our search for information to two arenas. Either we find who the rich people in the know are, or we have a talk to the local thieves guild. Guilders always hear a thing or two. Perhaps the thieves guild is against the Prince, and would like to help. Perhaps we can find a rich rival to the Prince who had heard some things in his social circles and get him to aid us. Either way, we either move way up the social ladder or down. One other thing. If Prince Kolberkon has Gaardasci, I would bet he's imprisoned close to him. If we have no luck with other ventures, we're going to have to enter his home and search for evidence. Since I have no animosity towards the Prince, I'd rather make this as bloodless as possible, sneaking in, getting what we need, and sneaking out. I believe that some of our companions... might not feel the same. What are your thoughts?

 

[Dark_Jackalope]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash

Disonda yet again gave Morika a careful look, but Bertrand, his tongue loosened by drink, spoke before she could:

“Oh, I don’t know much abou’ the fine workings of our Prince’s defenses, little miss, but I do have a few old boyhood friends who have entered his employ… and even more so didn’t make the cut.” Bertrand smiled wryly, though somewhat lopsidedly. “Y’see, the Prince keeps only the best among sailors and fighters. Those not good enough for ‘im will go work for the private merchant vessels.” He tipped back a bit in his chair, inspecting the various weaponry and armor on the sturdily built woman. Grinning, he said, “You, miss, by the looks of you, might be skilled enough to earn a job. He pays well enough, especially to his closest men. He pays to have those stay right here in town, up near his manor! A good neighborhood, there—”

There was a quick thud, and he was cut off by Disonda’s foot lightly kicking his shin to catch his attention. “Wha—?” he started, but the gnome calmly said,

“While you were explaining the local employment process, our companion here has grown quite ill. I believe he shall need your assistance.” All turned to look at Delluch, who indeed looked rather awful. He swooned and swayed a little bit on his seat, eyes drooping and his mouth slightly open, panting from fever. The poor man wiped the sweat from his temple, then muttered “I thin’ Ih needda go ou’side fer a mommen’… Fresh air an’, an’…” His words trailed off, as Bertrand rose quickly from his seat to guide the old man out of the tavern.

“Looks like it’s just the three of us left in the running,” stated Disonda. “Barkeep, three more! Something strong and sweet.” The gnomish woman turned back to Morika, and said quietly, “Reacher, I don’t know what brings you to our city, or whose gold is hiring your blade… But be careful what questions you ask. The Prince is a military man; he rules strictly—and punishes harshly.” She smiled, seemingly imagining the shifter deliciously meeting one such end.

Just then, Bertrand pulled out his chair again, and sat down, looking into the fresh mug to see what they were drinking this round. “Jilted Nixie, is it? Stuff’s thicker’n poison.” Seeing Disonda still looking at Morika, eyebrows slightly arched, he stated the obvious “Delluch is no longer feeling well, and has folded from our drinking game. We are getting to the final rounds, I think, ladies…”

They all added their five copper to the catch, clicked mugs in a toast, and drink into the sixth round. Bertrand only became more and more failingly suave, Disonda’s loosened up a little (though her disposition did not), and even Morika began to feel the first soaking of intoxication wash her mind.

Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver

The meal continued, with still no sign of Dragen. The kobold looked around the darkening room, at the faces lit by candlelight.

The dining room was rather small, but what it lacked in size was made up for in tasteful decoration. Throughout the room were many small, dark wooden tables, each with somewhere between two and four upholstered chairs pulled up to it. Though it was the peak of suppertime, the room was by no means loud or crowded. In total, there were only nine other people dining this evening.

At the table nearest their’s sat three sharp-looking businessmen, most likely traveling merchants in town to inspect a possible new product, find some venue for their trade, or something of that nature. They ate their turkey and drank their wine, chatting and occasionally laughing together, companionable and content.

More in the center of the room, two tables were filled, the first with old-looking and finely dressed elven couple eating in silence, and the second an attractive but bored looking young woman and what appeared to be her mother. They were talking, but not mirthfully like the businessmen. Once again their dresses were expensive and fashionable, and they looked to be Audairian.

Along the wall on the far side, near the door to the lobby, was a smug-looking halfling, sitting in a dignified stance regardless of the cushions stacked beneath him. With them, he still was nowhere near comparable to the height of his human companion, with whom he was talking seriously but enthusiastically, like one who is having an enjoyable debate. The two of them were less finely dressed than the others in the room, and seemed more to be travelers choosing to sleep on land while their ship was in port, rather than anyone here to do business or attend some lavish event.

No other rooms could really be seen from where the kobold sat, and dusk had steepened, making it difficult to see out the windows. Occasionally he would catch sight of the bellman striding past the door to the lobby, or the waitress would flit between the guests at their tables.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash


“Looks like it’s just the three of us left in the running,” stated Disonda. “Barkeep, three more! Something strong and sweet.” The gnomish woman turned back to Morika, and said quietly, “Reacher, I don’t know what brings you to our city, or whose gold is hiring your blade… But be careful what questions you ask. The Prince is a military man; he rules strictly—and punishes harshly.” She smiled, seemingly imagining the shifter deliciously meeting one such end.

"I'm not lookin' t' anger the mighty, and I know th' pain from military punishment. I got scars on m' back from Brelish scouts, thinking I was stealing secrets when I was just stealing bread. Well... all of their bread, truth be told. They flogged me anyway," Morika says, her voice slurring a bit. That was actually a true story; she had once tried to steal all the food from a group of Brelish scouts, so their advance would be slowed by the need to hunt and forage, and had gotten caught. It was lucky they had deemed her punishment enough and left her half-conscious to die.

"Say... this stuff be fair sight better than I ever drunk..."

 

[stonegod]

Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver

Carver takes and examines the paper before he tucks it away. "Oh, I can do that. I know one of the women who hung out on the corners that I used carvings of bananas to missing, but perhaps she's moved someplace where there are real bananas. Oh, and I saw that old Ferdinan's store had a brand new cart in front of it, he'd been in need of one for a while. Does that help?"

The kobold looks at the warforged wryly. "Things more pertinent to us, such as changes in military deployment, recent crackdowns, oppressive raises in taxes." The kobold pauses a moment then smiles his predatory smile. "Write it down for me, so I can peruse it at my leisure."