The Punt Den ~ Chyril 22nd ET/GT

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

The Punt Den
Deep in SouthBridge lies a small, but locally well-known pub. Shabby where Ranley Tavern is considered clean, unsafe where Ranley Tavern is considered safe, hostile to newcomers where Ranley Tavern is considered welcoming, and shady where Ranley Tavern is considered honest.

A crude, wooden sign swaying and creaking in the wind hung above the entrance. Once it had depicted a pretty barmaid and a stack of cards, now those were barely recognizable, and the crude lettering was not easily read: 'Punt Den'.

Strategically situated between the Promenade Theatre and Madame Panicci's brothel, Punt Den holds open only from eveningtide third mark, but its doors remain welcoming until morningtide. Spectators of the later and more dubious shows of the Promenade Theatre often spends the marks after in the Punt Den, discussing the night's performances, and indeed some of the girls of the Theatre comes here looking for an extra coin after having advertised their looks on the stage. But these are the lesser stars, many the crowd's favourites usually head straight for Madame Panicci's or take their leave with clients when the show is over.

It is the less attractive and less professional of Madame Panicci's girls who attend the Punt Den, and the connection between the brothel and the pub is a silent one. Where Madame Panicci houses guests from both the upper and lower classes and emphasizes privacy and discretion, it is the latter classes who frequents the Punt Bar where whores and their clients finds themselves a corner rather than a private room. Even so, relaxing with a beer in the Den is popular sport either before or after a visit to Madame Panicci's.

A wooden door opened into the main room of Punt Den with its long bar and crowded tables. Barmaids hurried between the guests, successfully and unsuccessfully evading pinches and grabs from the male customers, who were the definite majority in the establishment. A few daringly dressed girls scanned the guests for potential customers, and indeed a few already had clinched with clients in corners or behind tables. There was a stench of sweat, beer, smoke and even congealed blood in the air, mixed with raucous laughter, the clink of glass and loud conversation.

A stairway led down to the basement where the gambling took place. Stakes varied from a mark at Madam Panicci's to crown upon crown in games of all varieties.

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The day were drawing close to an end as Hastarl walked inside the Punt Den. He had become increasingly suited here since after the war. It was all so long time ago, that he barely thought of it now. Although he had had a hard start he had begun to fit into the environment. However, he could be without the girls, never much fond of the way they dressed. At first he kept looking straight at the covered areas of their bodies or their face, but couldn't help catching himself in looking at the bare flesh, when no one noticed. He wasn't fond of it, but he he had to get used to it when he was to collect the protection money from the Lillies as they called themself. Ladies of entertainment.

The adhiel walked slowly up toward the bartender, which he knew quiet a bit after coming here so often in the last couple of months. He kept his purse steady. This wasn't the place to point out that you have the money. There was no places where your money could be safe. This was also why he always had his dagger with him, in his belt over his tunic. As he reached the bar he leaned against it and said, "Guud evenin'tide. An' ale pliise." Although he wasn't very comfortable with the human language he was beginning to get hand of it or so he thought.

He got his ale, took a good gulp of it and addressed the bartender again, more quietly, as he leaned towards him. "So, ani news." Hastarl was always hungry for news and seeked them whenever he could.

[Maeve]

"Not really," said the bartender, putting down a foamy ale for Hastarl, "Not since last time you were here. It is rumored the Simaldi guys are not so though anymore on the Elven Quarter. Something may be brewing there, but who can tell for sure?"

He shrugged "Business is a bit slow. So many families left the Seams and Southbridge for one of the new houses in the Marchlands. Of course many unmarried ones returned, from the War. Elven Quarter is filling up with 'em, in the boarding houses."

[Mezatino]

A week earlier Mezatino had put out the word that he was looking to take up permanent residence with one of the local syndicates; not two days later he had recieved a word to meet someone at the Punt Den at his appropriate time. He had not been told who was the possible service buyer, but then again it really didn't matter. He was versatile, he'd done everything from burglary, protection, enforcement, black bagging, and even a short stint in false prostitution in order to mug someone, but that was a story for another day. The point is, that he was there then at the right time, no matter who it was. Hopefully it wouldn't be both, leaving it up to him to decide.

Completely unsure as to who it was requesting his services he decided to dress appropriately for either way. So he wore a nice black shirt with gray pinstripes, with short gray breeches with black pinstripes, and his well broken in black leather shoes. His attire was nice, simple, and with class, but was designed to give him full functionality and easy movement. So that he was business-like styled, but shadow-game ready. And since it was the Punt Den, where criminals and hardy folk were known to reside and commerce he had no qualms about going out protected. He wore finely sharpened knife in a should holster between his ribs and left arm, a divice he'd seen on a Purificatio officer once, and had taken an immediate liking to it.

Mezatino didn't know if the person he was meeting was there yet or not so he decided to go about it as if he'd only stopped in for a pint of dark ale. He motioned to the barkeep for a tankard of dark beer, and proceeded to sit himself at a slightly lit table. Not wanting directly in light because of the many wander eyes, and not wanted directly in dark because of the many moans and groans. Afraid to send his possible employer running, because of his hemp addiction he decided to opt for a nice bowl of natural tobacco.

Humming an old childs tune, something about an evil hag at night who ate little children, he picked out the seeds and stems from his purse and packed his small glass pipe with whiskey bourbon soaked tobacco. After striking it up and puffing on the yellow and blue and white swirled pipe, he exhaled slowly and deeply, producing thick cloud of smoke.

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

Most of the reply wasn't any shock for Hastarl. It had been quiet a while since the war ended and the adhiel sent away kept coming back to their homes, if they had survived. He was one of them but somehow managed to do better and get lodging. Of course no one could know everything and the same thing counted for the adhiel. But who could blame those returning. With World's Mouth as a free city the pressure on the adhiel would be lightened and they might have a normal life like the humans.

Tired of his philosophical thoughts he took a slight look at either side to see if anything or anyone would class themselves out of the crowd. "Your raight," he answered the bartender as his voice went bored. "Not much new." The tavern was filled with the same sort of people as usual. Drunkards, girls wanting costumers and those hiding in the dark. None were specifically different than normal days except for a young man.

He wasn't any unusual than what you might expect in the way he seemed to have a meeting someone. It was, however, unusual that if he had to meet someone he didn't sat in the dark like most did. Most be a new one, he concluded. As he didn't see anything else interesting so he decided it might be worth paying attention to. He waited to he had gone to fetch a table. Hastarl closely watched wich table he had chosen and headed towards a table near him with his ale. He knew it would be suspicious to walk to a table right beside him, so he took a longer way around in a curve so the human didn't see him sitting next to his table.

Hastarl silently drew out the chair and sat down closely watching the newcomer.

[Mezatino]

Mezatino usually calm and complacent, more than willing to be patient, was seriously getting anxious. He was there for a meeting; a very unorthodox meeting. The fact that his guy wasn't early showed that no one was specifically waiting him. He didn't expect the man to be perfectly on time (as he had hoped); but by now the person was a good ten burns late and that worried Mezatino. The underworld was filled with shady dealings and throat slitings. The fact that his guy was late could mean anything, but mostly all he could think is that they were setting him up. And nothing wracked his nerves than not knowing what was about to happen.

Mezatino bit at his lip before taking another long drag on his pipe. He played with the large crimson gauges in his ears before taking another long drag. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves to slide them up a bit and took another long drag. He gazed at the large ink design of the web all over his left arm, taking a large swig at his bitter ale.

He was getting very anxious and anyone could see it. I feel like that damned fence. All ways paranoid and shit that some Biancairre is going to bust his ass. This is minchioneria!

Needing to relax, he immediately dumped his tobacco and stashed his pipe in his black satchel bag. Replacing it with a large clear and black pipe he called 'The Hammer'. Within three flickers he'd gotten the bowl packed full of hemp and lit up. He deeply inhaled the acrid fumes, so deep that he choked on it as he exhaled. After about a burn or two, his body was well relaxed, and his mind calm. A placid little grin on his face and his eyes as red as the guages in his ears

[Maeve]

This eveningtide the Punt Den was pleasantly crowded and many dark figures moved in and out of the light. Hastarl however had chosen to observe Mezatino and was close enough to smell the characteristic fumes of hemp, a strong herb that had a most peculiar effect on the mind.

It was in a rosy relaxed state that Mezatino sat waiting for another ten minutes till a man in somewhat grubby but otherwise well cared for clothes approached him, his floppy hat with a large plumb hiding his eyes. His skin was olive, denouncing him a local bred. "Are you my contact" he grumbled as he sat down without waiting for Mezatino to invite him. Sadly for Hastarl he was too far away to be able to listen in on the conversation.

[Mezatino]

Mezatino was in a perfectly slouched state of absentmindedness, when the shabby man slid into the table before him. It took nearly half a burn, before he had even noticed it. Reactingly as quickly as his dulled reflexes could, he straightened up, but remained in a relaxed state as he tried to push the effects of the hemp off for a moment.

"I believe so, thought that really depends." He tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn't help lettig a small smirk grace his lips. "You see, I have this friend. And this said friend is currently in need of work. Are you or any person you know currently seeking help?"

Mezatino was proud of himself, he hadn't managed to slip his tongue through out his tiny monologue. Though his mouth was certainly dry like the sands of Amun Rah! Which was quickly abated by a long drought of bitter ale.

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

Sitting calm at his table Hastarl watched the young man as time past. After a while the he could see that his target was getting a bit nervous. It seemed more and more like he was to meet someone, but to judge from his behavior this someone was late.

Hastarl slowly took several gulps of his ale as he watched the tavern. A calm tide it is, he thought. I could have left my dagger at home, but one can never no. It might turn like the wind. He actually was a little bored since nothing really happened, and he had nothing to do than to wait till the one the young man were to meet showed up. As he sat with his philosophical thoughts he suddenly noticed the smell of hemp. He wasn't very fond of the herb as your mind wouldn't be as clear as it could be without this herb. Hastarl watched him relax as he smoked the hemp.

After a while the unknown second part of this meeting finally showed up. Hastarl didn't notice him until he directly addressed the young man with the pibe. Then he woke up from his boredness, and sharpened his mind and his ears the best he could after the ale, and the unwanted effect from the hemp. He could hear some mumbling but to his disappointment, he couldn't hear anything of importance. He was simply too far away. He considered moving closer to there table, but decided to wait a bit to consider the risks of getting caught listening to their conversation.

[Maeve]

The man sitting with Mezatino grinned, revealing a set of bad teeth. His voice was harsh and low, not carrying over the noisy crowd "Well, this friend... he wouldn't perchance be able to steal something from a well secured area, would he? For then he'd be hired on the spot. I need something to be stolen from a bond ware house. It is an easy job, it just needs to be done swiftly and discreetly. No babbling afterwards."

[Mezatino]

Mezatino, liked this grimey man. He played the word game also. Mezatino had always felt there was nothing funner than discussing illicit practices in intelligent ways that made everything sound so innocent. He grinned broadly showing his pearly teeth incomparison to this man's racid ones. "Oh my friend is efficiently capable at entering and leaving with items of a valuable nature. Do you or your employers have any information on said 'procurement'?" All throughout his little speach Mezatino couldn't help but gesticulate on the subject with his hands; to an outsider it probably looked like he was explaining an unbelievable story. "Also how well my friend does his job, really depends on how 'swift' it has to be. I'm quite sure he can do it whenever needed, but the longer his swift is, well the surer the swift will be."

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

Very unfortunately, Hastarl could still not hear anything of importance, so he pushed his ears even more, only to realize it didn't work. Moving closer would be too risky, if he were discovered listening. So instead he decided to sit down calmly, and observe. He took another small gulp of his ale as he looked throughout the tavern and sharpened his ears to see if he by accident would hear anything of importance from the conversation he had chosen to observe in the first place, however, now he also turned his attention on the rest of the tavern.

Shady as always, he thought. He could still not forget that he had sitten there for nothing so instead he tried hard out of the corner of his eyes to get a clear view of the two men, and remember them, to another where it could be needed.

[Maeve]

"Well, your friend need only know it is in a large red box," the man smiled, feeling smug and clever as he observed Mezatino's every move, " and slightly on the heavy side so he better think of something capable of transport. If there is agreement on price he's to get the location, the box to be delivered to an address the next morningtide."

Hastarl meanwhile looked around and saw a shady pub. The same as always. People drinking to excess, people observing each other in endless games within games, of which he would learn nothing at all by simply sitting around with an ale in his hand. If there was something the Mouth thrived on it was initiative, something Mezatino had grabbed with both hands.

[Mezatino]

Mezatino sat there for a moment, he needed to think about this. He pulled his first pipe out and stuffed it with tobacco to smoke upon this recent prospect. He took several nice puffs, and contemplated somemore. He had no qualms about stealing, or as he'd recently come to realize, he had few qualms about killing also. So if need arised he could do the deed. However, he did not like the idea that what he was taking would be heavy. Because heavy made the get away harder, especially when you have to rely on some kind of transport. He really didn't like it, but he needed some coins, and he could use the reputation and friends he just might acquire in the process.

Mezatino offered his pipe to the shady man before he gave an answer. "I will go on a limb and say my friend accepts the job to procure said item, and if he won't do it, I am more than willing to take on the task myself". He smiled at the implication of himself as the thief, it just seemed to liven his spirit! "But as I stated before he will need to know the details."

Now it was time for business, now it was time for the really shady part. Mezatino leaned to the middle of the table and began to talk in a very hushed down tone. "Where will I find this warehouse? How heavy are we talking? Could perhaps a donkey transport it? Where is it going? And how much of a payment are we talking?"

[Maeve]

"Northbridge, from one warehouse to another," his contact whispered, likewise leaning forward in a classical move that all but signaled that some kind of deal was going done. They were casually observed but nobody interfered "You will need a cart to transport it, or maybe a swift carriage will do. Perhaps this is a job for two, so that you have driver with you, who can also help load it up." He pushed forward a little piece of parchment in the palm of his add "This contains the address where it can be found. I will pay your friend a coronet now and 5 upon delivery."

He looked around for a moment, then added "It needs to be done before the 24th of Chyril. The sooner the better. On the 24th it will be moved from the warehouse and the opportunity will be lost. Oh.. and one other thing.." He looked at Mezatino with a frown "The merchandise can't be touched. Just move the box, no peeking."

[Mezatino]

Mezatino's eyes narrowed and he actually glared at his employer for a moment. He even dropped the word game. "I highly dislike the prosepect of needing an accomplice, but if you are suggesting it, then more than likely I will be needing it." He looked away from the man and chewed on his lip for a moment as he surveyed the crowded pub. He did his best to take everyone in and figure out their professions. He needed someone who wouldn't ask questions, and already had a cart with beast of burdon.

Glancing down he read the parchment with the address, then stuffed in a tiny book of his which he replaced back into his satchel bag. Only to look back up and continue to survey everyone.

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

All the time Hastarl had been patient while he sat i the tavern. However, it had been boring as it occasionally could be, sitting and observing. He was about to give up and change target, when something happened. He noticed a piece of written paper was changing hands. Now, there's something interesting, he thought. But it was difficult to get a good look at anything, hence they were occasionally looking up which forced Hastarl to look away, quick and slow at the same time, not to be noticed. Another moment of chat the young man started to look around, like he was searching for someone. I wonder what he's looking for, the adhiel said while forcing himself not to look in that direction, afraid to be looked out. Not to seem out of place he took a gulp of his ale and tried his best to look relaxed, like if it was normal of him to spend a night in his own company.

[Maeve]

Mezatino noticed that an adhiel was watching him rather intently. Meanwhile the rest of the normal chaos going on in the Punt Den with people talking, laughing and ocassionaly observing each other over the rim of their tankards. One of the waitresses laughed a she passed Mezatino, with a suggestive grin telling him "Do you know that adhiel? He's been watching you all that time. I think he fancies you."

[Guest]

The woman had a mission, and it had to start here. Perhaps it would have helped if the blonde had formulated a plan before stepping into the Punt Den, but despite all her craft, she was desperate for action. The average role she seemed to be playing in not only the crime world, but life in general was perhaps the main cause for her self-destructive malaise. She just needed to see Hart, as always, pretending inside her head that this time he'd give her a big break. After months of self-loathing at allowing herself to be used so carelessly by people who were obviously not her superiors, maybe she could have a break.

She had a little bit of ammunition, though, at this point, and the slightly-greater-than-last-time sense of possibility put a spring in her step.

She wasn't imposing or attractive, a face that might escape recognition save for those eyes, and she was already well known to most of the patrons of the establishment. She had changed into the more drab clothing which suited her best, the dull colors emphasizing the faded nature of her hair and eyes, the weathered look on her face. The slowly diminishing luster of her skin. Harmony was not beautiful; but she had that inner fire, and every step and every glance was a testament to that.

Unlike her first arrival here, there would be no altercations with the whores of Panicci's, or any of the other whores in which this city seemed to have an excess. Why don't we just ship the whores off on the airships to countries in need of their company. Perhaps that'd be a profitible arrangement... she thought; wry grin for a wry face.

Weathered eyes searched the dim interior of the Punt Den for Hart, or failing that one of his lieutenants. Her plan was quite clear: demonstrate a desire to see Simalde without giving the pretense of trying to go "over Hart's head". She had a feeling that if she revealed her present plan to the crime lord, he might simply pluck it from her hands and present either as his own to Simalde or else give her a ridiculously minor part in it. Nonetheless, she had to try.

After locating either Hart or one of his associates, she'd look for Remmel, a calculating smile perched on her lips. He had been her first real contact in the Mouth, and he owed Harmony his life. She knew what that meant in a city like this one. Despite herself, she felt a certain empathy for the man, and held a soft spot in her heart for him. He, of course, would know of any news that concerned Harm. And if she spotted him, she would immediately nestle over to him with a swagger in her step. If she failed to see him, she would simply move closer to her Hart connection.

There were people here whom Harmony had never seen before; not that this was particularly surprising.

[Maeve]

Harmony noticed upon her entry into the Punt Den that while the tavern was busy enough it was also curiously empty of many of the important figures that she had come to recognize as part of Simaldi's East Arch gang. Most obvious of these absences was Hart who had urgent business elsewhere with one of the new arrivals in the Mouth, to which of course everybody in the Punt Den was oblivious. While Hart was a regular costumer he did spend time elsewhere, quite frequently.

The only person that the young girl recognized was Remmel, sitting in a corner nursing an ale while observing the rest of the patrons, a habit that more than one visitor this day had gotten into and now they were all staring at each other.

[Mezatino]

Mezatino noticed the adhiel staring at him before the waitress pointed it out, but he was dubious of a man who seemed, so...interrested in his affairs. "Too bad for the faerie, I fancy the likes of you much more." He snickered at the lady with a grin.

Pulling his knife from its shoulder-holster, he began to meticulously clean his fingernails. He was pondering. He was staring; staring right at the adhiel, and anyone in the Punt Den could tell so. It was a cold and calculated stare.

Hmm...he is an adhiel, meaning he's probably not too happy with how the Mouth used to be run. So more than likely he isn't going to snitch on me to city authorities. But there is a hundred others that he could go to. And yet I need help from someone who knows how to be shady, and this character has done a good job of keeping himself from seeming too out of place.

"Yeah, he'll do." Mezatino muttered under his breath. "Thanks for everything chap, I'll be off now." Mezatino stood up and left the table. He walked around the room, ordered another ale, then seated himself at the adhiel's table. Taking a sip of the beverage, he simply stared back at the man.

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

As the marks passed it became more and more boring just sitting and observing, however, Hastarl had learned to be patient. They always reveal the good stuff, when your gone, he thought, as he looked at the two men. Then a waitress walked over and talked to him. Then totally unexpected the young man looked straight at him. Hastarl had not foreseen this and his heart jumped at beat. Their eyes were locked and it was too late to pretend like nothing happened. Merde, he saw me. In the half a year the adhiel had been World's Mouth, he had adopted a few local phrase, which fell in his liking.

Then when the young man rose from his seat, Hastarl began to think. I better be ready whatever he does. He did slightly notice the dagger suited at the young mans shoulder. The adhiel followed him with the eyes as he walked around the room, and finally sat by Hastarls table. Thinking about what this would lead to he said a bit disappointed: "So, you saw me." In any case he kept his hand ready to grab his dagger.

[Mezatino]

Mezatino continued to stare for a few more marks, continually sipping at his ale. "So, you were watching me." His words were cold and emotionless, just like his stare. After a smidgen more of staring, he leaned back and relaxed in the chair. A collosal grin on his face.

"So!" Me remarked, "do you wan't a job?"

[Hastarl Ras'diath]

Hastarl were relieved when the conversation turned out to be not at all what he had expected. He too relaxed after a bit and a sneaky smile showed up at his face. So, the patience wasn't at all wasted, he thought as he was amused by the wordgame the young man played. A job could be good. It might have something to do with their conversation. The adhiel wondered a moment about that.

"Depents," he said. "What kint of jop." Unfortunately his knowledge and practical skills in the human language hadn't improved a lot since he arrived at World's Mouth.

[Guest]

Emiliana had come to the Punt's Den once before, and since then she'd avoided it like the plague. Here she'd met Niccolo Alvero, pretending to be a priest and later on Finley Ward, who never pretended anything, except perhaps the feigned friendship they shared while exchanging tips on how to blow smoke rings and other such interesting talents.

It was Nico that she was meeting here tonight, but that was some time off just now. She was going to get comfortable in the meantime. Between leaving the library and coming here she'd stopped to change. She didn't want to be wearing the daytime dress she'd had on earlier. If she was to properly represent Highton (as was Nico's suggestion) then she was going to have to look the part, and that involved a quick change in clothing to something a bit darker. It was, however, still spring, so she didn't take it too far.

Wearing a marine blue coloured dress Emi stepped up to the door step of the pub and took in a deep breath. A small ribbon of white lace lined the dress at the deeply cut neckline and also at every strip of boning in her corset. The dress was multi-layered, but still without the large and unmoving wooden bustle. There was a chance she'd need to move quickly this evening, and she didn't want to be restricted by her outfit. She'd left the parasol at home, this time chosing a delicate fan to keep in her hand, prepared for being watched she figured she might as well be mysterious about it. Her hair was tied up as elaborately as one could on their own with a ridiculous amount of pins to keep the red-hued curls in place.

Her body moved with grace and dinity through the bar that displayed neither. She carried herself to the back, finding a dark nook to settle into, and along the way she casually looked about for a gray coated man who's face looked like it's seen the business end of a shovel. It was during this process of discovery that she noticed a few other familiar faces. There was, first and foremost, a very familiar looking woman - though she was considerably dressed down now she wasn't easy to miss after her stunt in the library. Also, there was a familiar looking young man who'd taken it upon himself to harass a member of the Purificatio. I'll bet Vincenzo would love to see your face. She also noted that he now wore a very similar armorment as the Purificatio Officer.

Emiliana had written about the encounter in her book, however it had ended rather brutally for Mezatino in her own imagination. There was something about sleeping with the fishes and it brought a smile to her face as she barely even took the time to look at him fully. She was far too concerned with her own business, and was quite content to let time burn by while nursing a Medicci ale she ordered from the first wench who passed by her dimly lit corner. Nico had told her to act the part of a Highton prissy, and as far as she was concerned, she was just warming up. She paid the wench when she returned with the beverage, giving her a snobby dismissal. Her hazel orbs passed over the crowd again as she took a sip, and she was disatisfied to see no green orc at the bar.

[Darug Sorghat]

Darug walked into the tavern and even though he knew it wasn't the best thing to do, he couldn't help the smile on his face. The party was about to begin. Finally he would have some action again. Together with the boss. This would be a night to remember. But for now..he had to wait, sit and wait. That was quite an easy task for the orc. There was lots of stuff to do in the tavern, like drinking and eating..drinking some more..eating some more..he could wait for half a day and not even notice!

What he did notice what the woman in the dim lit corner. She would be joining the party as well, the orc knew that much. But what would be the purpose of this female? what could she possibly do? Darug had no idea...That was for the boss to decide. As long as Darug was in on the fun, everything was ok.

He sat down at the first table that was available, not caring about who was sitting there, as usual. With a grunt, he waved one of the waitresses. "I want beer and meat. Large. Large beer and large meat."