[Dort] The Lights are much Dimmer There [Jyg 30 MT]

[Claire Owens]

Located on the Market Square of the Capital of Dort is one of the largest temples dedicated to Pecunia on all of Tazlure. It is the goddess of Wealth, not Money, that rules here.

Lavish tapestries line the marble walls and floors. Mahogany wood is used everywhere with flourish. The air is full of scents of the most exquisite herbs and the sounds of a hundred silver bells tinkling. The richness of the robes of the priests starkly contrasts with their sober look of seriousness.

The temple is full of people, praying for good luck with their trade. In a business-like approach they promise the goddess acclaim, and donate a fixed sum. A little list with prices is etched out in black marble and is conveniently displayed near most altars.

There are many reasons one would visit the Temple of Blessed Wealth. The blessing for a transaction is but one of many functions the temple serves. Artists seek employment by the rich who show their wealth by becoming a mecenas for only the rich can afford something so frivolous as art. Common people wish to entrust their savings with the goddess, to see it magically multiply and safe from taxes and thieves as well. The Dort Mail Monopoly takes care of all the letters one could wish to send to other isles, for communication smooths the way for trade. And the Dort Rebuilding Society, having a little counter in the big hall, encourages young people to start a new business by granting them a loan for only a small and reasonable interest.

It was the first time Claire had ever set foot in this most holy of temples, the greatest dedication to the Goddess Pecunia in the Empire of the Seven Isles. It had been a sweet moment when she stepped through the portal from the Citadel and breathed in the incense-wreathed air, finally confident that she would not be shamed before her deity by her shabby appearance. On the contrary – the achadhiel was fitted out elegantly in a sleeveless olive coat tailored closely at the top and flared out from the waist, with fine embroidered details at the hem. Her shirt, breeches and boots were of simpler design but of similar quality – not the highest one could buy, but certainly a cut or two above the ordinary. She also towed behind her a polished wooden chest ingeniously mounted on wheels, containing a change of more ordinary clothing, paper and ledgers and the like.

Every inch the middle-class merchant. Nothing in the least bit suspicious. There was hardly any point, when the achadhiel could find anything she needed in the backstreets of the Knot. So when the time came for the guards to check her background they could look all they liked. Weren’t nothin’ to see here. Weren’t nothin’ funny to listen to neither. The few standard questions asked by virtually every customs officer in Tazlure would be answered with a casual efficiency and minimal use of the letter ‘r’.

“My name? Claire Owens. Born in Hafne, but I work at a cafe in the Citadel these days. I’ve business in Darktown. Lookin’ for something new to serve the customers.”

[Tristam]

The acolyte nodded at Claire's responses and entered them neatly into the ledger on the lectern before him. His blue robes were of the finest linen and the hems were trimmed with threads of silver and gold. "Darktown certainly provides much that is different." He agreed. "I shall arrange an escort for you, miss." He assured her. "Unless, of course, you have already made your own arrangements?" The acolyte hoped she had not for he made a good commission on referrals.

[Claire Owens]

An escort? The acolyte’s bland assumption that she would require one caught Claire by surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her to hire one, as she’d never hesitated to enter even the more unsavoury parts of Dort by herself before.

Of course, her situation had changed considerably since the last time she’d been here. She made a far more appealing target for thieves and robbers, fitted out in her new finery, whereas a yahren ago no-one would have looked at the scrawny refugee twice. And she wore the trappings of legitimacy now. Respectable people were introduced. They didn’t slink into seedy dives and pay the barkeep to learn the whereabouts of the local piece-man (which was a shame. That had been a very successful method of operation for her in the past).

Still... was the newest precinct of Dort so dangerous that ordinary folk could not pass through it unmolested? The achadhiel had been looking forward to a day of independent exploration. Perhaps she still would. However, it would be worth learning more about Darktown before she set foot inside it alone.

Claire nodded at the blue-clad man with a brief, close-lipped smile. “No I haven’t. Kind of ye to offer,” she replied. “But can ye tell me, what services will your escort be pwoviding?”

“Will he simply be a guide? Or should I also be concerned for my secuwity?”

[Tristam]

The hint of her lisp made the acolyte pause for a moment as if unsure of what he just heard. He then proceeded as though it had never happened. "The main concern is security though they are capable guides as well. There was been an influx of refugees from Gulanadur in the last month or so. They have been quite close lipped about the reasons for it. The most plausible rumor is that the peasant classes are being displaced by the nobles because they finally have somewhere to dump them." The acolyte sniffed.

"Regardless of the reason, the streets of Darktown are clogged with beggars and pickpockets. The City Guard and Darktown's own bodyguards try to keep the main streets clear but with so many people in so small a space it is difficult." He shook his head. "To be fair, they are much more polite than say the ruffians of the Knot. Still, most prefer to hire a bodyguard or two to keep the bolder of them at bay. I have a very trusted pair of dark achadhiel brothers that I would recommend. They know the area well, speak the language and I can personally vouch for their discretion." The last was as much coin of the realm as the Duke's crowns. Hopefully that would seal the deal.

[Claire Owens]

Claire was inclined to trust the acolyte's information. Being a follower of Pecunia, it was doubtful that he gave it purely out of the goodness of his heart - there was profit in it somewhere - but that didn't mean it wasn't accurate. The temple wasn't known for ripping off its customers. So... danger in Darktown was there? Then bodyguards it was.

She tried to imagine herself walking down the street flanked by a pair of deadly dark adhiel mercenaries. The image was so ludicrous Claire couldn't help but smirk slightly. All her life the achadhiel had kept trouble at bay by keeping her head down and remaining as inconspicuous as she could. Well the habits of a lifetime weren't about to change so easily - one escort would be sufficient for her needs.

Which was not to say she couldn't find a use for the other brother.

"If ye'll send the word I can meet them at the Duck within the mark," she said to the acolyte after giving it a few moments' thought. "I'll be discussin' my needs and negotiatin' their pay in person. Is there anythin' else I ought to know?"

If there was nothing further, she would thank the acolyte and tip him two lance for his trouble. Then before she left the temple, she would also visit the altar and make a substantially more generous donation, bowing her head and completing her devotions in silent prayer.

Lady, I’ve made mistakes. I fear I’ve borrowed more money than I can make back by entirely honest means. Too much of the coin I earn is given to unbelievers and not to your honour and glory. Yet you’re gracious to me Lady. I live better now than I’ve ever known.

I ain’t askin’ for your favour today, only that you not refuse my offering that I’m givin’ you in thanks. Let me atone for the loss of productivity, for what I’ve squandered in my time of misery and mourning. I'll not break the contracts that were bound in your name. I swear I’ll pay it back, the money that is owed.

And I’ll try to do it in a manner that is pleasing to you. Just... give me a sign if you ever catch me going about it the wrong way, alright? Amen.

[Tristam]

The acolyte nodded. "I believe that time frame should work for them. I shall send them along." It was not the ideal situation for him but he would still get his kickback for the referral and her tip was adequate bordering on generous for the service rendered. "May your time in Dort be prosperous lady." He intoned as she passed on into the heart of the Temple.

The artist that carved the statue of Pecunia that overlooked the petitioners below was a master of his craft. The head of the goddess was turned and bowed so that a different expression could be seen upon her face depending on where one viewed it. From where Claire stood, she could see the smiling face of Pecunia looking down benevolently upon her.

[Claire Owens]

Even knowing it was a statue of stone, Claire could not help but feel her spirits lift at the sight of the golden goddess smiling down upon her. Suddenly, she felt freer than she had in months. The Lady knew, there were a lot of nice things about her life in the Citadel but she’d been cloistered on that little rock, hemmed in by allegiance and identity as much as by geography. Let others strive for fame and status – Claire had discovered that she liked her anonymity. As a nobody in a new town, she could just about become anyone she damn well pleased. Happy butterflies were dancing around the achadhiel’s stomach as she made her way across the market square from the Temple of Pecunia to Dort’s most famous inn and tavern.

As she walked, she raised her eyes to the skyline to look for the great stone dome that had suddenly closed a chunk of the city away from itself. Frankly, Claire was surprised that the Duke had allowed such a thing to be constructed in the heart of his capitol. By the sounds of it, Darktown was already turning into a ghetto to rival the Knot, proving almost as impossible for the Watch to police. She had no idea how long this happy state of affairs would last, but she had to admit, she was itching to see what she could make of it.

For months now, a part of the achadhiel had lain quietly dormant, subsumed by the need to protect the friendships and the family she had found in Keros and the Simple Pleasures. But with his mind lost... and the rest of them so far away... it was quickly reasserting itself.

S’pose I ought to be grateful, she told herself. The Cranes... Aveas Exports... Whitesand... they’d given her a chance to make more of her life than she ever could have all on her own. Yet she found herself resenting the hold placed upon her by all the money she had been given. Fearing that someday it could all be taken back – that she would have to return to the desperate life she had known on the streets of Hafne. She disliked knowing that the fruits of her labours did not in fact belong to her, that they were due to all these... others. Most of all, she hated the feeling that she could never look at any of them square in the eye while she remained indebted to them.

The idea of spending yahren with all this baggage hanging over her head was intolerable. The only way to be rid of it would be to make a lot of coin, and fast. While she had a few ideas about how to generate extra demand at the Pleasures, Claire had come to believe that she could not rely entirely on this one little coffee shop as source of income. She needed to expand or diversify... and finally, she’d found her chance to do it.

On her arrival at the Drunken Duck, Claire checked herself into a room for the next two nights before returning to the bar. As it was a little too early for anything stronger, she ordered a jug of fruit juice and ensconced herself at the back of of the taproom, in a spot with a good view of the front door and most of the tables. When the barmaid came around with her order, she would tip the woman a couple of extra banner with the additional request that if a pair of dark achadhiel brothers should walk in through the door, she would personally escort them to Claire’s table. After that there was nothing to do but wait.

Right off of Dort’s central market square, the Drunken Duck Tavern & Inn squats companionably between a large stable and a busy lane.
It is a slightly weathered, three-story building of unusual golden-yellow brick, which gives it a warm, inviting appearance in contrast to the cold, hard stone around it. Cheap labour was used during "the Duck's" construction and, as a result, several of the outer walls are bowed. The main chimney stack also leans at a precarious angle, which gives the tavern a peculiar, lop-sided look. This, coupled with the unusual colour of its bricking, gave rise to the name.
A wooden sign which hangs stoically from the verandah depicts a tipsy bird, one wing wrapped about a tankard of sloshing ale (or a bottle of Islay whiskey, according to some sources).
The porch and verandah extend just a few paces beyond the doorway, allowing patrons a few sheltered paces before a grand entryway that might almost seem more suited to the theater across the Lane. Two large, leaded windows nearly eclipse the wide front door, catching and reflecting any light in the bits of multi-colored glass embedded there. Though there are no clear pictures in the fractured design, there is something almost cheery in the swirls of color found there.
The bright blue door opens into a large and spacious taproom well-lit by multiple windows and well-placed lamps. Regardless of tide, many of the tables hum with friendly or inebriated conversations, and a barmaid scurries about distributing tankards and bowls, returning sass or smiles as appropriate, though her smile softens any rebuke easily. Her hair is falling free from the haphazard bun at the nape of her slender neck as she bypasses the stairs that bisect the back wall, and pushes through the swinging door next to it.
The bar stretches along the entire wall opposite the stage, plain wooden stools lined neatly along its counter as a slightly portly man tends to those seated there. He exchanges comments with those near him, voice mixing with the genial atmosphere. With all the general sociability to be found here, one might almost miss the large figure perched at one end of the bar, a few tattoos peeking out from beneath the respectable but plain garb he wears. Quietly watchful, his eyes pause on any groups that might be getting a little rowdy.

[Porcelina]

ooc: Hi Claire, I'm going to be stepping in for Tristam here.




Several burns passed without so much as a cough from another guest at a nearby table, as Claire awaited the twins' arrival. It was still early in the day, and there weren't many people around, so when the front door finally opened, naturally, all eyes were upon the new guests. Closing the door behind them, two hooded figures entered quietly, before stopping just short of the door to scan their surroundings. The shorter of the two, removed his hood first, revealing blindingly blond hair that was held back in a braid, ebony skin and blue-eyes that held a sarcastic stare. His facial features favored his adhiel heritage more so than the human-side, as his nose and chin were very pointy. Removing his gloves, Gowan Ssin'Klair gave the passing barmaid a coy smile and beckoned her over.

While Gowan was busy speaking to the blushing barmaid, Kade removed his hood as well, letting his blue-eyes fall upon each of the few guests, including Claire whom his gaze lingered upon the longest, and then to the chatty barmaid. Even though the Ssin'Klair brothers were twins, the two looked nothing alike except for their hair, eye and skin color. It was obvious to anyone who looked upon Kade, that he favored their human father, with the exception of the slightly pointed ears.

A flicker or two later, the Ssin'Klair twins were being escorted to Claire's table, the flighty barmaid stopping just an arm's length from the achadhiel woman, “This is Gowan and Kade Ssin'Klair, I believe these are the men you were waiting for.” Without uttering another word, the barmaid smiled politely and made her way back behind the bar, whispering to the portly man who stood behind it.


“Greetings, lady,” Gowan said to Claire, before taking a seat next to his already seated brother, “I hear that our presence has been requested. However, before we speak of the services you are requesting, let's get the important discussion of payment out of the way. What do you say?”

[Claire Owens]

OOC: Thanks!

With so little happening in the Duck, Claire started to get bored after a couple of burns. Needing something to do with her hands and eyes, she took out of her satchel a book of herbology notes that she'd been compiling for the past few months, and pretended to study it. As well as being of practical value to her work, it was starting to become a little hobby of hers. She hoped to be adding a few more entries to the book before she left Dort.

She'd barely gotten started when the brothers Ssin'Klair made their entrance. Raising her eyes from the book and resting her chin on one hand, the young woman appraised them with as much open curiosity as any of the other patrons in the tavern. They made a striking pair. Achadhiel like herself, but even more exceedingly rare given the lack of contact between dark adhiel and surface dwellers. Naturally, her mind flitted to questions of their parentage. She wondered which of their parents had been of which race. Where they had met? How had their children had been raised?

At first glance, the adhiel-looking one seemed the more outgoing of the pair. Obviously fancied himself quite the ladies' man. She suspected he'd do most of the negotiating.

The second man seemed the quieter and more watchful. If Claire read the dynamics between the two right, while his brother stole the show, this one would keep and eye out for possible threats, ready to intervene if anything went amiss. She couldn't read the expression in the eyes that lingered on her, but when her gaze locked with his, she returned it with a tiny smile to signal that she wasn’t averse to what she saw.

She stood up as the brothers approached, inviting them with a gesture to take a seat at the table. "Pleased to meet you gentlemen. Thank you miss," she said to the barmaid before sitting down herself. Then Gowan opened the conversation.

The young Dortswoman was not accustomed to showing a great deal of emotion in public. It was a trait which served her well now, as she wasn’t quite sure whether she wanted to laugh in his face or to tell him to jump off a pier. Instead she sat very still and gave Gowan a long unblinking stare through thoughtfully narrowed eyelids, letting the silence drag on to an uncomfortable length.

Just who in the Nether did these jackasses think was calling the shots here? It was their man who had solicited her business to begin with. Claire wasn’t the type to put money down on a product before she’d inspected the goods – she’d made it abundantly clear that she wanted a discussion before committing to a price, otherwise she would have arranged their fee through their proxy. Obviously they were willing to consider a negotiation, or they wouldn’t have made the effort of coming all the way out to the Duck. But if they expected her to pay them, well then her wishes had better start counting for a damn sight more in their priorities, hadn’t they? At the very least, they could show some basic respect and courtesy.

Was this their negotiating strategy? Well you chose the wrong time and the wrong woman to play hardball with, mate. I ain’t gotta put up with this bullshit.

"I say it sounds like you just blew a golden opportunity. I'll be takin' my business elsewhere, lads, and unfortunately I won’t be wecommending you to my associates,” Claire said briskly. And that was it. No further explanations, expressions of regret, or apologies. She didn’t owe them any. “But you've come all the way out here so at least make sure you have a dwink on me before you leave, eh? I’ll let the barkeep know to put it on my account.”

She smiled politely, took a sip from her glass of juice, then bent her head back down to her book.

[Porcelina]

Silence fell upon the table, as Gowan blinked in bewilderment. Normally, he was use to getting what he wanted, but this woman was something else. Biting his tongue, he had to admit this lady had spunk. Something he wasn't use to seeing in the women-folk. It wasn't until after a burn later he opened his mouth to speak, when Kade immediately elbowed him with a 'don't you dare utter another word', glare. Sighing, Kade ran a large hand over his face and looked at Claire. He was clearly embarrassed, and frustrated with his uncivil twin.

“My most sincere apologies for my brother's behavior,” Kade said in a husky voice, taking in another opportunity to glare at Gowan, “Sometimes it difficult to distinguish between his mouth and his ass.”




“However,” the dark achadhiel continued, with a warm smile, as the portly man behind the bar gave cleared his throat loudly with a suspcious stare in the trio's direction, “He is harmless. After all, his mouth tends to work a little bit faster than his mind. We wish nothing more than to see to your safe passage through the streets, as they are crawling with trouble from wall to wall. After all, you are the one employing us, so I believe it is you who calls the shots and we are to oblige.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Gowan was unsure of how to repair this situation as he looked from Claire to Kade and back to Claire again. He knew that Kade wasn't very happy with him and now, it was more than likely that his actions resulted in a loss of business. This was obviously not the first time the man had shoved his foot in his mouth. Instead he fidgeted with his gloves and thought his wording over carefully before he said anything else to the woman.

“I apologize if I have offended you, dear lady,” Gowan finally said in a polite tone, "but I must mention the fact that the inhabitants of Darktown would love to see a lady like yourself walking the streets alone." However, this is all he would say in hopes that Claire would overlook this embarrassing incident. Patiently awaiting Claire's response, the brothers sat in silence not daring to utter another word.

[Claire Owens]

"I don't doubt it." Claire raised her eyes from the book cautiously. She saw two fully grown men, neither angry nor dismissive, instead smarting under the weight of her displeasure. This had never happened before.

So this was the power of wealth, the power of Pecunia... even if it only gave her temporary command of the situation, that was really something! Taking a deep breath to suppress the heady rush going through her, the achadhiel fixed her gaze first on Gowan. Evaluating. Still unsmiling. Finally she spoke. "I appweciate your apology and your concern, Mr Ssin'Klair. Perhaps we should begin again."

Her eyes flicked over to Kade's. The subtle shift in control seemed to favour him now. Perhaps he would be a little harder to manipulate than his flighty twin, but at least he seemed the more straightforward type. It was unlikely that she'd need to constantly second-guess at his motives while she dealt with him. So, she decided. Best to shoot straight from the hip.

"You can call me Claire or Miss Owens, I don't mind. Just so you know, I'm not an unweasonable person. I don't need to be pandered to deferred to. I will listen to what you have to say and I'm pwepared to twust you judgements weagarding my sewurity. On other matters too, if you can show me sound weason. But I'll not be spoken to with diswespect."

Feeling that she'd asserted herself sufficiently firmly, the achadhiel was now prepared to meet the brothers half way. She folded her hands in front of her on the table. "That's all I have to say about that. I hope we can all get along. So now," she offered with a crooked grin. "Since you find it's such a pwessing concern, we may as well talk money."

She cocked her head slightly towards them.

"What's your usual fee, gentlemen?"

[Porcelina]

What Claire didn't know, was that the Ssin'Klair brothers didn't have a usual fee. The truth of the matter was, the dark achadhiel men charged for their services based on how easily one could be exploited by the pair, as well as the risks that were involved. To Gowan, Claire didn't seem to be easily manipulated and he started to wonder if they would even be able to squeeze a coronet out of the young woman.


Before Kade or Gowan could reply, a loud crash could be heard from where the twins entered only moments before, causing the brothers to rise from their seats and face the direction of incident, obstructing the young woman's view. Immediately, Kade removed a short-sword from its sheath like it was a habit, as Gowan, almost unseen, removed a pair of daggers from the depths of his cloak. It was second nature for the men to be prepared for anything.

“What do you think happened to him?” Gowan hissed to Kade, casting Claire a cautious glance.

[Claire Owens]

It didn’t really matter to Claire what the Ssin’Klairs claimed to charge, since she didn’t intend to pay it. It was useful only as starting point to begin the negotiations. And already, the young woman realised, she’d made a tactical error. Should’ve asked the priest how much they’re worth. Damn.

The fact of the matter was, she had no idea. Gowan could pull any number out of his arse and she’d have no choice but to take it at face value. She could, of course, reject them if the sum was too outrageous but the tawny-haired achadhiel’s time in Dort was limited and she did not wish to waste any more of it looking for escorts. She had places to be, people to schmooze, far more lucrative deals to close... as the saying went, time was money. So here and now, she was eager to settle, but next time she wouldn't be making the same stupid mistake.

There was no need to let the brothers in on any of that of course. She’d been trying her hardest to impress on them that Claire Owens was nobody’s fool. She could only hope that they’d seen enough of that “don’t play games and stop wasting my time” attitude to cut to the chase and propose a reasonable costing. In this kind of game, sometimes the best defense was a good off...

CRASH!

Before Claire had any more time to dwell on the subtleties of haggling, a loud bang interrupted the exchange, alarming the young woman so that she jerked in her seat and her hazel eyes flashed wide open, her expression momentarily resembling that of a startled kitten. Instinctively her body adopted a ‘flight’ response and she stood up just after Gowan and Kade did, ready to clear out at the first sign of major trouble. While the Duck was relatively safe, it wasn’t dangerproof – a point driven home the first night Claire had ever visited the inn, when it had been ransacked by cavalrymen not too long after she had (fortunately) left.

A quick glance at the dark achadhiel reassured her somewhat. With their weaponry drawn they looked dangerously competent (not that Claire was any judge of such things). By the time Gowan looked at her again, she merely looked wary and slightly ruffled, shrugging as if to say “Does this concern us?”

While she wasn’t exactly happy that her meeting was being derailed, if anything happened, the incident might at least give her an idea of what the Ssin’Klair boys were capable of. So Claire wasn’t too frustrated either. Swivelling her head around him to get a view of the action, she murmured to Kade, “What’s goin’ on? D’ye know this guy?

[Guido Cercatoro]

(OOC: joining from – herehi Claire)

As Bertram departed with Guido's order, the archaelogist glanced in the direction towards which the barman had cast his eye. There appeared to be nothing untoward – simply a well dressed achadhiel woman in quiet conversation with two dark achadhiel men. I wonder why the barman is taking such an interest in those three?

The archaeologist dismissed the three companions from his mind, turning instead to contemplate his impending breakfast. However, his quiet reverie was rudely interrupted by the sound of a loud crash. He turned in time to see the two brothers pull out their weapons and then stared in horror as he caught sight of the source of the commotion – a body that lay amid shattered fragments of glass in the doorway.

A simple breakfast was too much to hope for. I hope this man wasn’t my contact. Merda! I’ve no choice but to investigate just in case he is. Sfidante, you bastard, if you’ve got me into something dangerous again.... Now calm down Guido.

Guido quickly ran through one of the mind-calming exercises he had learnt from Milanas in the Lycaeum and had put into such good effect during his encounter with the cryers. He focused on the image of his scarf, slowly unfolding and blotting out the complexities of the bloody scene that lay before him. He reduced the scene to its simplest constituent elements, attempting to develop a sense of clarity and inner calm.

Moving slowly towards the body, he spoke in a measured and even tone. “Please stay calm. There is no need to panic.” I need to find a way to search him if he dead to find out if he is my contact. Guido moved towards the body, taking in every detail. If no-one moved to intervene, he would kneel by the body and attempt to feel if there was any sign of a pulse or breathing. At the same time, he would scan the body to see if there was any sign of pouches or other belongings. He also kept a wary eye on the two dark achadhiel, who were after all brandishing daggers.

[Claire Owens]

Claire stared at the dead adhiel, then the gangly young man who rose to examine the body. Was he brave or was he stupid? No need to panic? Son. Forget the bloody corpse, worry about what made it! Something hit this guy hard enough to send him through a fucking glass door, and whatever it is, it's still outside.

Or was it? Claire tried to remember the moments right before the point-ear carked it. It was quiet... then bang. No fighting on the verandah, no sign of a disturbance outside. Might've been a hit, the adhiel might have been taken by surprise, but who the hell committed murder this publically and in broad daylight?

"Jakes. Don't tell me he wan thwough the door by himself," she blurted incredulously.

[Porcelina]

While Kade stood in silence for a few flickers, he didn’t sheath his sword. His blue-eyes looking from the burly bouncer, then to Guido, who was already near the corpse. Sighing, the dark achadhiel turned back to Claire, “I’m going over there to investigate. I’m guessing this wasn’t an accident. If you don’t mind, Ms. Owens, I am going to leave Gowan here with you. It might give you two the chance to discuss business so that we may be on our way and getting the nether out of here.”

With a smug smile, Gowan turned to Claire, “We can go to a more private location, if you wish?”

As Guido looked over the deceased adhiel man, he would find a small, black pouch in his hand. Whatever was in the pouch, it would be hard to tell because the adhiel man clutched onto it tightly, as if it were the most precious of treasure. Other than that, there wasn’t anything to be found on the man. He wore simple clothing, no pockets and no weapons. The only suspicious thing on the adhiel, was an arrow lodged into his back.

Kade approached cautiously on the other side of Guido, his eyes looking outside for any signs of danger, then looking down to the corpse, taking great interest in the pouch, “If you don’t find anything interest in that pouch, I should like to take a look. It may give us some clue as to what happened to this sorry lad.”

After Kade finished expressing his concern to Guido, he turned to take a look at Claire and Gowan, hoping the two were getting along. However, it wasn’t long before his view became obstructed by the burly tavern bouncer, who crossed his arms looking at Guido and Kade, “Get this body out of here before my boss comes back or there is going to be more trouble than we need. My suggestion is to take it into the alleyway.”

[Guido Cercatoro]

As he bent to examine the man, Guido immediately caught sight of the pouch. Perhaps he stole something and was killed for his pains. In which case, someone is going to be searching for him. But wouldn’t they be here already? Or, perhaps he was delivering something for me or this achadhiel woman?

The archaeologist’s musings were interrupted by the approach of one of the achadhiel men who appeared to be as much interested in the pouch as Guido.

“I was due to meet someone here,” explained Guido, hoping that straightforward honesty was the best plan. “I need to check to see if this was the fellow. If not, you are welcome to the pouch. I want nothing to do with it – it may be why he has been murdered.” Guido attempted to prise the pouch from the man’s hand. If he succeeded, he would rise from the body.

The bodyguard’s request for Guido and the achadhiel to take the body into the alley filled Guido with concern. He did not relish the idea of venturing outside with the achadhiel with the sword.

“Aah, I’m afraid I won’t be too much use carrying this unfortunate soul outside,” he replied to the bodyguard. "I’ve a terrible back that makes it impossible to heave great weights. I’m sure that your strength would be more useful than mine if you need to dispose of it quickly.” He rubbed his lower back with one hand. “And I’m sure this good, strong citizen will assist you.” He nodded towards Kade before sauntering back to his table with a quick smile of acknowledgment towards the achadhiel woman. Once at the table he would investigate the pouch – examining it to see if was a simple purse or appeared to contain something more. He would feel it with his hands, smell it with his nose and shake it a little to see if it made any noise.

[Porcelina]

Guido returned to his table without any trouble from Kade or the burly bouncer, who just grunted as he passed. Shaking his head, Kade watched Guido from the corner of his eye, trying to keep that pouch in view.

“I’m sorry, but you are on your own with this,” he said to Owain as he slowly walked back towards the table he shared with Claire and Gowan, still keeping an eye on that bag. In the meantime, Owain managed to take the dead adhiel man’s corpse out of the building with little effort.

As Guido examined the pouch, which made of black bat skin, it gave off a very strong scent, yet the contents inside could not be heard by shaking the bag. For whatever the contents were, it was very light in weight. However, if the man would try to open the bag, it would open with ease.

[Claire Owens]

OOC: how rude of me - hi guido! hope you guys don't mind i'm gonna PM bernie and see if she wants ta come play )

Business was never far from Claire's mind but from the moment she had laid eyes on the dead adhiel it had dropped rather lower on her list of priorities.

"Wight here'll be fine, Gowan," she replied to her prospective hireling's question. She eyed him briefly. What's he smilin' about? She didn't think he meant any harm but for some reason she didn't relish the idea of being left alone with this one. "I'm happy to wait for Kade."

She watched the exchange between Kade, Guido and Owain with some interest, returning Guido's smile and nod calmly and in kind as he walked away from the body with the small black bag. By the time Kade rejoined them her busy little mind was racing away with entirely different intentions from what she'd walked into the inn with.

"That was intewestin'," she remarked dryly. So there were intrigues afoot that made even the upstanding citizens running the Duck hesitant to call the Watch immediately... even when murder was commited in broad daylight. She wasn't sure if the Ssin'Klairs knew what was going on either, but it seemed that Kade was also cautious about appearing to be associated with the crime.

"Well then..." she continued, opening the negotiation again. "Let's say I'm convinced I need you boys and I'd like to secure your services immediately. I'm pwepared to put down two cowonet today, and another two if I get thwough this week with my skin intact." It wasn't a particularly generous payout, but for all they knew the pair might only end up following her around for the entire week and doing nothing else.

"However," she added, and here came the sweetener, the performance bonus which she hoped would convince them to put a little extra effort into this particular job. "If you can help me out in... other matters, I also offer a commission on any pwofits made on my ventures here. Thwee percent."

As Claire spoke, she too kept a watchful eye out for any goodies that emerged from Guido's bag. And she hoped that the Ssin'Klairs would take up the offer quickly. There was a body waiting in an alley outside and she was rather curious to see just who would come to take an interest in it.

[Bernice Potts]

((I thought I heard my name, so here I come! ^_^))

"Blue fuckin' Nether!"

There were guards, there were brigands, and there was Sergeant Bernice Potts.

Darktown was her usual patrol these days, but it just so happened that they caught her during her drill exercises around town before actual patrol. She roared on to the scene of the crime, not having seen much outside on her patrol, but that loud noise couldn't be missed from these streets. Two of her men followed behind her as she rushed in, checking on the shattered glass. If there was any blood around the area of the crash, she would look for more evidence before walking in.

Needless to say, the dirty blonde sergeant was livid, and an intimidating sight to behold as her broken-nosed and battle-scarred face looked around the Duck. The brawls around town were getting insane as of late, and the last thing she needed was another body on her patrol. Her halberd stood next to her side as she gazed around the room to assess the situation, still looking for pieces of this morning puzzle.

"What. Happened?"

She tried to keep her cool, but those piercing gray eyes looked around for traces of people hiding something. She was only about five and a half feet tall, but there was something about her arms which were now much bigger than the average female. She had seen too much bull in these past two weeks to be nice about things.

Her gaze shifted to the barkeeper, stern and wanting answers.

[Guido Cercatoro]

(OOC: here comes the cavalry....hi bernice – …)

Guido breathed a sigh of relief as he reached his table unscathed. A quick inspection of the pouch revealed little other than a strong scent. Some perfume? Some drug? Clearing his mind and concentrating deeply he tried to identify the scent, comparing it to other perfumes, herbs and flower scents that he was aware of.

The archaeologist was considering opening the pouch when he became aware of glances and stares from the table at which the female achadhiel was sitting with her two companions. Then, he was further interrupted by the whirlwind arrival of a rather angry female guard bearing a halberd. Now Guido had fought the cryers; he had run with the Kanthrop; he had piloted an airship; he had even trapped mechanical mice. But, the sight of the new arrival unnerved him and, if truth be told, excited him in the same measure. Might be best not to open the pouch for the moment. Anyway, I can’t imagine it contains anything relevant to my mission. Still, it would be nice to look inside…

He waited, wondering how the barkeep would deal with the guard’s question.

[Porcelina]

Kade turned his attention to Claire as he motioned for Gowan to keep an eye on that bag. Whatever lies within it, it seemed to have everyone intrigued. Putting his weapon away, he listened to Claire’s proposition thoughtfully. Two coronet now and two more later didn’t seem so bad to the dark achadhiel, in fact he had expected her to offer a lot less due to his brother’s behavior. Smiling, he couldn’t help but wonder what other matters she was referring to. Not knowing only intrigued him even more, as well as Gowan, no doubt.

“My dear, I believe we have struck a deal,” he replied in a calm tone, now turning his gaze to where Bernice had just entered.

“I suppose any hope in leaving will have to wait until their questions are satisified,” Gowan muttered low enough for Kade and Claire to hear.



It was at the time when Bernice showed up that Sydni, the young barmaid, made it to Guido’s table with a tray of food. With a polite smile, she looked from Bernice and back to Guido, placing the contents of his order neatly before him, “Would you mind if I took a seat here as well? I was in the back when I heard all of the commotion, so I am very curious as to what is happening.”


When Bernice approached the Drunken Duck, there were no obvious signs of struggle. In fact, there weren’t any blood stains on the veranda from where the burly bouncer had taken the corpse into the alley only a burn before. However, it was when she entered the broken doorway, from which the man had basically flown through, that the floor was littered with tiny shards of glass and bits of blood. Everything else in the establishment was where it should have been.

The portly barkeep, whose face was as white as a ghost, stood motionless gazing back at Bernice and pointed a shaky finger to the doorway, “He….He…just…came crashing in….here….through those doors!”

"Dead before he even entered," Owain replied in a husky voice, as he entered cautiously behind Bernice, "Took em' out back. Can't just leave a body lying in the doorway and frighten all our customers."

[Bernice Potts]

Bernice cocked an eyebrow, looking on to one of her two men.

"Check outside for witnesses."

She turned to the other soldier with her, her face still stern but with a hint of puzzlement at the situation.

"You, get some info from the people inside."

Bernice looked down at the glass to see how hard this idiot went through the door. She knelt down for a second to check the floor, trying to determine if he just crashed through the door or was thrown through the door. She looked up from the scene to Owain, her demeanor calming down considerably.

"How'd he land once he crashed? ... Got any enemies wantin' ta send you a message er' somethin? Not a drop of blood either... if the poor bastard was mugged, he would've 'ad a bash on the head er a stab... maybe even a cut from the glass."

Her attention was at the case right now, not giving much notice to the people inside other than remembering their faces for the future.

[Claire Owens]

Ah, buggery. Too late. The pigs arrived and before she knew it the watch was snuffling all over the joint, ruining any chance Claire had of making her own discreet investigations into the murder. Fortunately, it was no great inconvenience. She had no reason to stick her nose into whatever shenanigans were being played out here beyond curiosity and a desire to understand the environment she was operating in.

So the most logical thing to do now would be to sit tight, head down. Listen carefully, answer all their questions politely and then get the nether out. However. Even though technically she had nothing they would be interested in, the coppers set the achadhiel's teeth on edge. She didn't know how long she could wait patiently before she started to look guilty of something.

Her eyes slid over to the stocky blonde who seemed to be in charge of the squad. Gods help whoever committed the crime - the pushy broad sounded competent. Claire disliked her instantly. Still, the achadhiel couldn't help but admire the way she gave her orders, tough and confident in her command. There was a woman she could respect. Too bad she was a cop.

Claire's gaze flicked back to Kade and Gowan and she sighed. She drummed her fingers on the table a couple of times, then came to a decision. "I s'pose you're wight. Might as well get it over with. Maybe we can leave quicker." She rose to her feet and walked over to where Bernice was in conversation with Owain and waited for a pause in the conversation to jump in.

"I doubt it was a muggin'. We didn't hear a fight and he was shot," she announced. "My guess is he was wunnin' and the speed sent him thwough." She shrugged. "Either way, how he was killed ain't half as intewestin' as who done it and why and I'm thinkin' the answer to some o' those questions might lie in the bag that ginger cove pwied out o' his hands." She pointed her thumb over to the table where Guido sat with Syndi, not really caring what that implied about the poor curator.

"By the way ma'am, I'm Claire," the achadhiel girl said by way of introduction, and stuck her hand out for the sergeant to shake. "If yeh don't mind, my associates and I need t' be on our way soon. So if there's anythin' else we can do t' help speed up your investigation we'll be happy t' pitch in."

[Guido Cercatoro]

“Please take a seat,” replied Guido to the barmaid’s request. Strange behaviour for a barmaid. Why is she so interested? Guido pushed the pouch towards Syndi. “Do you recognise the smell in this pouch? The poor fellow that died here carried it with him. Perhaps it explains his death.” And the presence of that guard means I daren’t open it.

The archaeologist watched the female guard as she began her investigations and then, with growing alarm, he saw the female achadhiel stride over to the guard and point in his direction. Merda. She’s selling me down the river. Telling her about the pouch. Nothing for it. I’ll have to give up the pouch.

With a gulp, Guido raised his hand to beckon Bernice over. “I may have something for you here,” he shouted in her direction. He smiled; the wide, charming smile that he used on such occasions. It usually worked but the guard looked tough, rough and rather professional.