Florian froze at the orc's sudden appearance.  He flinched between bringing his weapon to bear and thinking better of threatening anything with tusks.  Having been caught in a semi-clandestine meeting in which he was trying to skirt the law was all the more uncomfortable when he couldn't actually do anything about it.

The orc's response seemed especially strange to Florian, but he didn't waver from years of training.  He turned and flattened his hands together, head bowed, and appealed to the notorious greed and ego of the invaders'.   "Greetings, master.  I was to discuss a business proposition with the woman, which we will of course endure to pay all required taxes and fees for the transfers of money that will line the pockets of the most illustrious saviors.  We can of course discuss the matter later, and endeavor to entertain his most majestic host with music and dance at his leisure."

Bryon kind of went blank. ”I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Florian, but it sounds real smart. You are a very smart person. Would you like to be friends?”

Druk turns away from the kids he is leaving here and was just about to go on to another errand when the sycophant starts speaking to him. For a moment Druk considers impersonating one of the harsher minor Orcs he knows to wheedle some cash from the fellow but Bryon is here and she will surely give him away. He nods to Bryon and looks away.

Druk not who you think, Ook no hurt He says with the stereotypical stupid speach northerners expect. ”And Druk no flipping care what gods-damned treason you’re planning. he thinks As long as it doesn’t hurt my business.

He smiles at the fellow, You know Ook? Ook not like Orc, like but not like. Ook no hurt.

He waits for comprehension. Then he leans in and says quietly without the accent Of course, for some coin I can find you an Orc or man to bribe - I can find anyone in the city, ask around - Druk is the best.

He hands Florian a flyer that describes NPC messenger services with an address for contact and rates for parcel and message delivery.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:47, Tue 29 Jan 2019.

Bryon cocked her head to one side, "Druk, are you feeling alright? Why are you talking like that? Did you hit your head?"

Druk frowns and rolls his eyes at the woman he speaks quietly almost whining and with poor eye contact. I say this to all the guests ‘Ook no hurt’ it’s my thing to calm the northerners.

Bryon nodded and smiled, a sure sign she had no idea what he was talking about. ”I’m from Helvectia, which is north of here. As long as you are okay...”

The woman smiles, and then frowns.

"We must not be too loud here, we are in public.  They will not ordinarily look in a market, but in public it is never safe.  Draw no attention.  It is the will of the gods that what we have today will not last forever.  Nothing ever does, no matter how many warriors the Goth king has to defend it.  Their grip on this city... this too, shall pass.

"But it is the will of my goddess that the Temple of Minerva will not fight that battle.  We have fought, we were beaten, and now we must leave that torch for others to pick up.  But at the same time, we cannot let learning die.  We must preserve it for the future.  We do not even have our school left to us, it is warded with magic that keeps us out, but we will teach, as long as we have those willing to learn."

She looks worriedly at Bryon, Druk, and Florian.  "We've worked to avoid notice, but you three are as noticeable as anyone in the city.  This will be difficult.  We must find secrecy.  Here... will not do, not with you three."

Druk lowers his head really shamed. Druk will go, you teach until I send for children to return to work, yes?

Bulwyf finally found the last teacher, of course Cassandra had sent him, learning, books, knowledge was far more in her court than his. She was extremely busy, and with no pressing battles or adventures in the immediate vicinity, she had sent Bulwyf to seek out the teacher. "I am called Bulwyf, and I agree, somewhere more private to have this conversation woud likely be best." he gave each member present a nod and smile.

Bryon nodded, ”Oh what fun! A secret meeting...maybe even a whole secret group. Like a Cabal. This is all very exciting.”

Florian fought the urge to break out on the offensive or flee.  The presence of the children at the meeting he set up with the teacher were a necessary liability, but he had not expected the others.  Least of all the orc.  Even if orc looked...sad?

"I agree with the common sentiment; we are all rather conspicuous.  Though I had only been expecting to speak with the esteemed teacher, and in the relative private of my family's home or warehouse.  I can host those present in either, and without much cause for suspicion."  He bit his lip, sending his own worried glance at the orc and then at Bulwyf.  He trusted neither, especially with the abrupt timing of the second.  "...And perhaps I will secure more business deals than the one I came looking for."

"There is too much attention here, too many of you here," the woman says.  "The warehouse... Florian, your House does have a warehouse... And here are wares.  I will arrange to have some of it store there for a few days, the merchant is a friend.  This group with you, Florian... if they carry it there, they will appear to be just working.  The Orcs do not bother Humans working.  Human labor enriches them, they like to see it.  So..."

She makes some hasty arrangements with an elderly man, who trusts her to carry off part of his stock.

That alone is no small thing.  Each of the characters gets a bundle of clothes, carpet, or curtain to carry, and the intent is to make it look like they are simply working.  That is, if Florian has no objections.

Judging by her secrecy concerns, it does seem that there is a reason for it.

Bulwyf grimaces, the orcs. They were always up to no good it seemed. "Back to work then." he shrugged, taking his bundle of goods.

Bryon nodded, "Oh a secret society with secret meetings and everything. We should have code names and secret handshakes. I will be ... Ravishing Artist Model."

She pointed at Bulwyf, "You get to be Handsome Woodsman." Then Florian, "Hmm, you can be Clever Hoof Guy." and finally to Druk, "You get to be Devilishly Good Kisser."

Then she looked at the other children, "I trust all of you to come up with your own code names."

Druk’s cheeks turn red, and his eyes flash hard and then dull as he picks up a large share of stuff and starts walking without a reply.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Wed 13 Feb 2019.

Bulwyf grinned and nodded, "Been called worse, for sure."

Florian nodded.  "That was the idea, yes; I believe we can be of service to each other.  I will lead the way then?"

They reconvene, a little while later, at House Palantus.

The "teacher" recognizes House Palantus and assumes this is really a quiet way of House Palantus securing some instruction for its people.  She introduces herself:  Diantha.  (For what it's worth, any characters who can speak Greek might recognize the origin of the name as "Divine Flower" but most names are just names, of course!)  She evades giving out anything further, family or friends or other connections, except for the link to the Temple of Minerva.

About that, she is quite proud, though it is a pride tinged with sadness, as the Visigoth overlord's hostility towards the temple has meant she could never even see more than a small piece of it.

"I've been in the chapel," she says.  "It's all that is left for us.  But... they say the temple... they say Minerva herself protected it, and that's why the Visigoths could neither conquer nor destroy it.  So they sealed it up, and left it with guards and wards.  They say the Visigoths have lost a shaman or two who ventured within, trying to plunder Minerva's treasures, I would bet.  So it's good to know that in whatever way she can, Minerva still watches and protects.  At least, that must be the only reason I am still here."

"Now, I must say, I am used to children.  Adults usually do not have the time for classes.  I can teach Reading and Writing, and Numbers, and History of both the broader and local worlds, and the science of plants and animals.   Is there some specific interest of House Palantus?"

Bryon raised her hand as was polite in class. "I would like to learn all of that please."

Bulwyf nodded, "In particular, the bits about plants and animals. Perhaps I could even teach you a few things."

Druk waits unsure if this meeting has any benefit for him, he knows the city already and is not a dumb Ook even if he must behave that way from time to time. He could teach much of that but what are these grown men and women trying to do if not support the teaching of children?
He says nothing

Bryon stage whispers to Druk, “I don’t think you need any more kissing lessons. Hang around, though, I bet you make a bunch of new friends.”

"Can anyone here read and write?" Diantha asks.  "It's important... it's a basic thing, and if you can read you can help the others."

The natives here, like Florian, know well that reading and writing are far from universal skills among the lower classes.  For many servants of the trading houses, though, it is the key to a step up in life.  Reading and writing means a life of "office work" while others load and unload ships, or work in the fields, or making things.

"I really ought to break you into groups.  Those who are less advanced in their learning belong together, and I can round up a few of the others, and teach everyone at once.  There are about a dozen children, and a dozen more who have learned that and are now with other subjects.  In the old days, the Temple of Minerva had as many as ten teachers, and we used the abandoned school at the temple.  There must be marvelous things locked inside that building.  One day, maybe, we can return to it.  It must be waiting for us, since the Goths have never been able to destroy it.  Now, who are the readers here?"

Bryon jumped up and down (causing pleasant wobbles) saying, "ME! I can read and write in Latin, Hun, and Elven." She nudged Drunk, "Bet you're impressed by that, aren't you?"

Druk flushes again with Bryons attention and he shuffles and mumbles a moment. He can read and write but he’s not here to be a teacher, he has enough work to do. One thing the teacher says that interests him is about the temple.

You want to get some of Minerva’s things from the temple? Would they help you?