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(Archive) Fishtale's Folly

Short Summary: A group of the locals gather at the disreputable bar with their own agendas
Date (real-life): 2011-03-09
Scene Location: The Fishtale Inn
Date (in-game): May 20 of 3052
Time of Day: midday
Weather: clear spring's day

Players: Gavving
        Scampre (played by Lorthrain)

The Fishtale Inn

All along the walls of this dilapidated Fishtale Inn there remains only the faded, smoke stained, and peeling suggestion of someone's poor impression of fantastical monsters of the sea -- this is sadly indicative of the whole place. The bar, the Inn's heart, bears a large and spreading split along half its length, and the very walls seem barely able to support the weight of the place.The tables are all blackened, and sticky with indeterminable substances, and they look for all the world like jacks cast down by forgetful Giant children since there isn't any apparent order to their placing. The kegs and casks are in a similar state, though some of the bottles seem more recent acquisitions. This is truly the kind of place that attracts those of ill repute; those who do not care about atmosphere so long as the drink is cheap and plentiful and the barkeep does not ask too many questions. . .Contents:
Obvious exits:

Anger enters into Norfred's eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line "It is my intention to keep Miss Elodie as far from our business as possible. Do you understand me, Mr. Scampre? I shall not sully her with these matters..." He lifts a hand, a finger pulling at the collar of his tunic in irritation. "My interests in Miss Elodie are purely personal. But if we... need to take precautions for her saftey in case the Watch thinks they can use her to get to me, I would be willing to pay you to have her protected, secretly of course," he says his voice lowering to a whisper, eyes balls of blue flame.

"Oh," says the old pickpocket then, nodding soberly, "you do't have to convince me, m'lord. I know you're a fine, upstadning gentleman, and if it won't anger you further, let me say I can't blame you at all for admiring the lass; she's a looker and no mistake. But I just thought you ought to know what the good Captain's been asking about."

As the other detail is mentioned, Scampre grins and offers a conspiratorial wink. "Oh, I think matters could be arrranged to keep the Watch from snooping around young Elodie. Some of the lads I know can be very... distracting, shall we say? But, if I'm to get 'em in on this, it would help if I knew any little details that you'd prefer to keep to yourselves."

There is not much to know... I am simply interested in courting her, that is all," explains Norfred as he arches a golden brow at Scampre, appearing somewhat uncomfortable with the subject matter. He sighs softly, lifting a hand to massage his temples, "There is really nothing more to it than that. I am not trying to hide my interest in her, she shall be my date to the Arathmor Ball in a few weeks if all goes well... Your men are not miracle workers after all, just me and here being seen together so frequently is enough to start rumors." He shifts again uncomfortably, tilting his head to the side as he looks across at the other man. "Does that answer your questions?", he says sounding slightly irritated about all of this.

Scampre spreads wide his hands and smiles with a fresh nod. "Oh, m'lord," says he. "I think that's more than enough, and forgive me for prying. I don't want to stick my grubby nose where it don't belong, after all. Yeah, I think I know a cople of chaps who can hang around the Flagon a little more and make sure the Watch don't harass your beloved."
"Of course," he coughs, "there would be the matter of paying them, which you know I hate bringing up..."

Norfred seems to relax a little bit, a smirk forming on his lips. "Well I certainly would not expect it to be done for charity. I want quality men there and I want to know who they are so when I pay the Tavern a visit I can know that I am getting my money's worth," explains the Lord with a stern expression on his face. "You can bring me word of their price the usual way? I will give you the money for them somewhere more discreet."

Nodding to this, Scampre grins and offers his grubby hand to the Arathmor lord. "I like the sound of that, m'lord. I knew it was going to be a pleasure doing business with you. On that note, I believe there might be someone else who is worth checking up on. One of your own, in fact, meaning the Merchants' Guild. Ever heard of Gavving Tull?"

With the mid-say sun gleaming overhead, light beams cross and intersect through the openings in the sides of wood of the Fishtale; blinding some but keep others in a muted darkness. Tossing open the doors of the Fishtale, the well-known merchant Gavving Tull suddenly holds to door to make sure it doesn't fly off the hinges. Light pours in the bar as his is arrival brings a mixed response of intrigue and disdain o the faces of the patrons who bother looking up every time the door flings open of the Fishtale. Gavving scans the dilapidated ruins of a bar to find two brutish looking men sitting at a makeshift table in the corner.
Gavving nods to the men as he makes his way over to them, but stops quickly at the bar to chat with the hostess "Your shipment will be here tomorrow love. Discounted price as usual, but make sure the payment goes through the proper channels." Medhir scowls as she quickly pours a drink and shoves it in Gavving's abdomen. "My money ain't good enough for you dear?" "Gavving smiles as he takes the drink and wipes the spilled liquid form his person. "Not at all love. I have a reputation to uphold and sending your cronies to my store midday does not promote good business. Thus..proper channels." A disapproving sneer is shot Gavving's way follows by a gruff "Fine. Have it your way Master Gavving."
Gavving mouth turns to a smirkish grin as the attitude behind the saying of the last two words is not lost on the merchant. Taking his mug with his right hand, Gavving makes his way towards his associates and is heard saying "Gentlemen, let's get down to business.." The rest of the conversation is rather hushed and the din in the Fishtale of overlapping conversations makes hearing the conversation impossible.

"The name rings a bell, yes. Though I fear I am still getting to know everyone I should in the guild. He is an importer yes? Sounds he would be the person to talk to to get one of... Uncle's more infamous enterprises back up and running. Though the question is if..." And then a rather boisterous individual bursts through the door. The golden-haired Arathmor blinks for a moment as watches the man go about his business, "Well... That would be the man then, no? He seems to have impeccable timing. Certainly a very useful skill in the business world," speaks the blue-eyed noble with an amused smirk forming on his face.

Nodding in agreement, Scampre grins anew as he watches Master Tull's entrance. "Oh, he's got his fingers in a few pies, I reckon. Could be just the fellow you're looking for, like you say m'lord. Can't anyone say that I don't give the most useful gossip..." he adds with another flick of the coins in his pile.

Man about town Alagnen slips into the Fishtale Inn. He sniffs the air and looks around, well pleased with his find. Pushing on into the room, he heads for the bar and slaps down payment for a drink. "Ale."

The overlapping conversations, growing louder as the hour and the ale pass, are suddenly broken with one of the large burly men sitting at the table with his associate and Gavving erupting to his feet and tossing his chair to the ground. "That's not wha' we agreed..." shouts the man at a seated Gavving. The few men and women seated around them stop their conversations as the eyes fall upon the trio. "My price just got higher. You want my best men?.."
The burly gentleman walks closer to Gavving and sticks his right index finger in Gavving's chest, pushing the merchant back in his chair "You'll pay double.." Gavving's smile quickly disappears as he quickly grabs the man's finger and bends it back towards the burly man. A quick look of seriousness is shot towards the other man, who wisely takes to his feet and slowly backs away. The burly man shouts out in pain as Gavving continues to flex the mans finger back towards his body.
The screaming shouts continue as the man takes to his knees, wincing in pain. Gavving lets up enough to stop the burly man from shouting to be heard "Rule 17..A contract is a contract is a contract." Reapplying pressure to keep the burly man on his knees, Gavving scowls "You will continue to get your contract rate or you will get your contract terminated. Am I clear?" Gavving re-emphasizes his point by applying more pressure. The burly man nods repeatedly and winces a bit when Gavving leans in and whispers "Excellent.."
Releasing the burly man, the other joins his and helps him to his feet as Gavving watches the two leave the Fishtale. Gavving flips a coin to Medhir and bows his head "Sorry for the mess love.." Brushing himself off, Gavving picks up the chairs and puts them back with the makeshift table. Sitting back down, Gavving's expression is one of deep thought as the drink passes over his lips.

 There's a barely audible creak on the stairs, that is covered with the screaming of the burly man while Gavving explains the rules. The noise causes the cloaked figure with hood pulled up to step back up and out of sight, making its way around to the upstairs landing, and turns to look between the narrow cracks in the slats of the railing of the second level. Brown eyes take in the men below, and then hands cover mouth when the watcher recognizes people below. Rough hands pull the homespun cloak tighter around the figure.

Ale is provided and his coin is first placed in the mouth and tested and then accepted. Alagnen grins and takes up his cup, sampling his drink. With hearty approval, he takes a bigger drink and then turns around to see what all the fuss is about from Gavving-way.

But all this goes unnoticed by Scampre, who merely watches Gavving's tutelage with a smile to himself. Once more flicking a coin from his pile, the former pickpocket does not seemed particularly worried about the show of violence, and even spares a knowing glance to a heavy-set fellow in the corner, who likewise looks on in silence.
But at length Scampre scoops up his money pile, returning it to a leather pouch ere he rises form his seat. The entrance of Alagnen draws his eye for a moment, butit is towards Gavving that he wends through the tables, until he arrives by the merchant's side with a cough of greeting.
"Teaching the greenhorns a lesson, Master Gavving?" he enquires with his customary grin.

Upon recognition of a familiar voice, Gavving's gaze seems fixated forward but his left side of his mouth curls upward to a semi-smile. "No my friend.." says the merchant outwards before facing Scampre.."But Rule 10 does apply. Greed is eternal." Motioning Scampre to join him at the table, Gavving takes out a finely crafted clay pipe and a small leather pouch of pipeweed to fill it. Quickly hopping up from his chair and making his way to the nearest candle, Gavving lights his pipe and returns to his seat.
Taking a long inhale of smoke, Gavving lets out a cloud which is quickly dissipated by the air whisking through the room. "Those businessmen need a lesson is negotiating and I was more than happy to apply a lesson." Taking another puff from his pipe, Gavving finishes his drink and sets the mug aside. Letting out the smoke, Gavving brings his arms to the table and leans in. "So how are things on your end?"

Alagnen is drinking for the moment and watching Mr. Bends-Fingers and his pal. "This ale is /good/. I wonder if a certain someone has been here to put a good word on it..." he says to no one in particular.

Backing carefully away from the railing, keeping low, the cloaked figure makes its way down the hallway, and then opens a door to the one of the rooms. There's a squeak and a click as the door closes rather hurriedly behind, and the cloaked one is gone.

Scampre's flit to the doorway as the cloaked fiure exits, and a strange smile wrinkles the old pickpocket's lips as his head tilts with interest. But shaking it away, he looks back down to Gavving and shrugs apologetically. "I'm afraid, Master Gavving, I really shouldn't. Just found myself a new job, so to speak, and had better be about it..."

Meanwhile, behind Alagnen, the heavy-set fellow in the corner laughs aloud and speaks up to reply. "I wonder more if someone's taken a leak in it, myself," says he, to general laughter and a frown from Medhir the barmaid.
Alagnen smirks as he looks in his ale, sniffing it. Shrugging, he takes another drink, very confident-like, and replies, "I've been covered from head to foot in pig---- before, sir. A little bit mixed in with alcohol'll do not a bit of harm."

The cloaked figure ominously keeping watch has not escaped the notice of the merchant. Seeing the former pickpoket's reaction bring a sly grin to Gavving as he returns to smoking his pipe as he leans back in his chair. Bowing his head, Gavving replies "As you wish..just be wary" as several other patrons seem to catch Gavving's attention periodically. Returning to his pipe, Gavving returns to his deep though pose, but mindful of his surrounding in case the burly man makes his return.

Date added: 2011-03-23 22:27:28    Hits: 39
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