Malchanar greeted the staff warmly, and smiled as the two young ladies approached him. “A drink first, I think. Yes, a fine cup of wine of you please. Then I shall rest my feet for a few minutes while perusing the menu of delights on offer tonight!”

While he was, of course, interested in what the ladies had to offer, he was also curious to see what was happening at the gaming table. Several fellows he didn’t know, but one he did. Master Redrick, if I’m not mistaken. What are you up to you devious bastard? Their paths had crossed more than once, he was no friend but at the same time was no enemy, and sometimes had his uses.

As the wine arrived he drank slowly, engaging in idle chitchat with the ladies. But his eyes never left the table as he tried to ascertain what angle Redrick was playing tonight.

Redrick's bon mots seemed to be working towards the desired outcome.  As the dice continued to pass from Hand to Hand, all three men were loosening up.  Redrick had the distinct impression that the winning gnome had identified him as a sharp fairly early in the game.  Likewise, it hadn't taken Redrick more than a few passes to determine that the current winner was also more than skilled at the game, and possibly his success was the result of skills aside from dicing.  A particular flick of the wrist on one cast was especially telling...

Nonetheless, once the gnome, who called himself Reive, ascertained that whatever Redrick's purpose might be, it didn't involve cheating him out of his hard-earned gains, he was cordial and friendly enough, if still a bit quiet.

The two other men, drawn into the webs of the lovely ladies of the Fleece, were another matter altogether.  Nell's mark, who referred to himself as Felderlen, grew more drunk each minute, probably in inverse proportion to the disappearance of stacks of coin before him.  As though his gambling losses were not enough, Redrick also noticed Nell's clever hands snatching the stray silver or three from the inebriated Gnome's small pile, generally while distracting him with playful obscenities.

Meanwhile, the human, a Mister Pottinger, was becoming more and more captivated by Worthy's ministrations, and when she produced a small, paper-wrapped packet of some sort of narcotic from her bodice, his eyes practically smoldered.  With flesh and drugs in the offering, Redrick assumed the council functionary would be moving to one of the private rooms soon.

"Yeah, well...imagine that your boss was a 'mistress' instead of a Mate," Felderlen offered as he raked in a small pot on a rare win.  "Like having all of the bitching, but doubled and trebled.  That's Mistress Sandrine for you!  Spice is a perfect trade for that one; she runs hot as ground dellian chilis and sour as vites root.  Makes my eyes sting looking at her, while my ears burn off listening to her!"  He chuckled, and then leaned forward as if to share a secret.

"But at least she doesn't pay well!" the gnome stage whispered with a straight face, and then guffawed, slapping his little fist hard enough on the table to make the stacks of coin bounce.  Reive smiled thinly at the jape while putting protective hands around his pile; Pottinger didn't even seem to hear it, lost in Worthy's nibbles and nuzzles.

Malchanar noticed the proprietress of the establishment walking up to his table.  Leena was her name.  He'd seen the woman sitting in one of the more secluded corners of the common room when he had entered of course, her eyes surveying the goings-on like a nanny looking over rambunctious charges with a mild combination of amusement and disapproval.

An instant before she reached his table, her raven landed on the back of the empty chair across from him with a thud.  Like a prearranged signal, it's appearance sent the two half-elven beauties, Mona and Spyce, back to the bar.  They each chose a stool and patiently waited for their presence to be requested again.  On the stage, the most recent song ended, and both the half-orc dancer Saxai and the two musicians took a quick breather.  The sounds of conversation seemed to rise, filling the sound gap.

"Hammond," Leena said, her voice soft and sharp.  "Not unless invited."  The raven cocked it's head towards Malchanar, considering him with an onyx eye for a long moment...then it flew to the overhead chandelier nearby to perch.

"My sincere apologies -- he is neither as tame nor as polite as one might wish.  Perhaps a glass of Tenebrian blush will make partial amends?"  She raised one hand in a gentle "come hither" gesture towards the bar, and the human server, Dolom, quickly brought two goblets of the delicacy and set them on the table, retiring with a bob of his head.

"I, however, try very hard to be both polite and tame."  A dazzling smile.  "May I join you?"

Frowning, he wondered if he should talk to Leena about that habit. Stealing from clientele was a good, fast way to get a bad reputation. He glanced around at the ladies working in the place and shrugged, Well, a different bad reputation. He doubted the gnome would miss it though. His face froze a second as he considered the information he had been gleening so far this evening. For now it was a bit of a jumble mess of things. Connections could be thought through and analyzed later.

"Aye, that sounds harsh, friend. Seems, we both have a rough lot. Sometimes, I am tempted to push that mate over the side. Alas, I've not the guts for it."

Now, Redrick was noting that the two with ladies dangling were getting more and more distracted. That would not be fruitful to him much longer. Mister Pottinger seemed a bit beyond concerns of employ and coin. He couldn't blame the man. "Oi, Pottinger, you'll knead her breast into bread you keep going like that! Your turn, friend." Redrick motioned at the dice and wondered if the man would take up the cause. Getting the man to talk a bit would be nice. "Heh, or maybe you'd rather roll the las?" He turned to Felderlen, "I might pay to be a pillow in that room, eh?" he laughed but did his best to catch Worthy's eye.

Then he focused his attention on the gnomes. The next time he saw Nell pinch a coin, he frowned at her and looked up at the big raven perched on the chandelier.

Nell caught the purposeful look, and gave the slightest hint of disatisfied moue, before returning to her bubbly persona.  Redrick didn't catch further signs of her pilfering coins, however.

"At least her nibs will be off the manor for a few days.  Off on a buying run, Selby-way," Felderen said.

"Got the whole place to myself right now...well me and a few servant types.  That's why I'm here tonight instead of there at the manor; no fiery eye of accountability watching my every bloody move.  Rest of the week, it's the nights for me and the days to recover; feels like a damned party!"  The gnome shot back the dregs of his drink, and then slammed the empty on the table to call for another.

Nell tweaked teasingly at the gnome's chest hairs.  "Gonna need more'n one day t'recover after me, boy-o.  I 'opes y'bossy lady is gone a few!  Right drain y'dry, I will."

Meanwhile, Pottinger quickly lost the Hand on a second-roll 7, returning a few more coppers to Redrick's small stacks and more to Reive's large ones.  Pottinger hardly noticed as he passed the dice to Felderen, who offered them to Nell to blow on for luck.

Instead, the human nodded at something Worthy whispered to him.  "Gentlemen, I believe I shall retire for the night.  I wish you all good luck and pleasant times."  The Council functionary scraped his small pile of remaining coin from the table into his pouch, leaving a 'vig' of two silver for the house in a small bowl at the center of the table.  Leena allowed gambling in her establishment...encouraged it even...but players were obligated to cut the house in on a small share of their action, win or lose.

Taking Worthy on his arm as though escorting her to a dress ball rather than a bed, Mister Pottinger took his leave with a surprising amount of dignity for one both inebriated and concupiscent.  As they walked away, Worthy flashed a quick look over her shoulder at Redrick.  Her expression was pleasant, but gave no inidication of intent.  Still, the direct eye contact was an acknowledgement of some sort.  "Take care," she said to the group with a smile, revealing the tips of her pointed canines.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Thu 17 Sept 2020.

In reply to Leena (msg # 17):

Malchanar smiled warmly at the comely woman. He was impressed with the way she ran her operation, outwardly beautiful but hiding an inner steel needed to survive in this industry. “Milady Leena, yes please join me, it would be my absolute pleasure.”

He rose and pulled out a chair for her, inviting her to sit. As she took the chair his eyes flicked to the server bringing out the drinks. He’d not had Tenebrian Blush before, but was sure it was going to be expensive. Still, if it was good and opened some doors then it was a worthwhile investment. “Tell me milady, has business been good recently? Any excitement, or just quietly profitable?” He smiled as he spoke, the charm oozing out of him. It worked well on the simpler mind, but he knew a sharp character like Leena was immune to his handsome features, but still it was fun to try.

Leena knew from past experience that he was always interested in titbits of gossip on customers, especially rich and powerful ones. Did he work for one of the cities many political figures, maybe he was a spy, maybe a blackmailer, who could say? But he always paid in full, and tipped the girls generously when they went out of their way to please him with little ‘extras’.

Occasionally his eyes flicked over to Redrick at the dice table, curious to see how the fellow was going in fleecing his marks out of their coin.

In reply to Leena (msg # 19):

Down to the two gnomes and with a solid bit of information, Redrick smacked his lips and rubbed his belly. The look from Worthy had been promising as well. He'd need to swing in another day to speak with her. He'd have to see about getting Mister Pottinger to be a real regular with her. A nudge here, a suggestion there and she'd have him wrapped around her finger. And if Redrick played his cards right, a lot of pillow talk of council business coming his way. That would be worth the investment.

Leaning back, he let his eye roam around the brothel and wondered why he had never considered running such a business. It seemed worthwhile. Finally, he turned his attentions to the game and frowned down dramatically at his stack of coin, "Oi, that's barely enough for a tumble! Fraid I'm going ta have to see about a clogged pipe lads, if'n ya know whatta mean?" He waggled his eyebrows at the gnomes and then stood to throw a few coins into the bowl.

A bit of thought later and Redrick made his way to the bar to catch Filbert's eye. "Allo there. I'll have a pint a the house ale. Any ladies not faring so well tonight?" Redrick thought it a good idea to start making friends of all the whores.

"A fair sea, sir; business is a fair sea moving to calm waters.  Much like every night."  The response was something of a maxim with her.  Another dazzling smile, and the half-elven woman took a sip of the blush.  "Try your wine, please.  The vintage is exceptional...and the first glass is, of course gratis."  The woman practiced her own advice, inhaling the fragrance of the blush with two, delicate sniffs, before sipping, eyes half closed in contentment.

"What brings you here tonight, good Malchanar?  Entertainment?  Enlightenment?  Some combination of both, perhaps?"  The dazzling smile tweaked at one corner of her mouth, cheek dimpling, artfully suggesting flirtatious teasing...
This message was last edited by the player at 13:57, Mon 21 Sept 2020.

Philbert the dwarven bartender nodded respectfully, sliding a foamy tankard to the red-haired man, and artfully catching the two coppers Redrick tossed in pay.

Philbert, or simply 'Philly' as regulars often called him, was not a prepossessing figure, his skin was pockmarked and he was somewhat slender for a dwarf.  Rumor had it that Philbert had been sickly as a child, his frail condition making a more stereotypical career in mining or blacksmithing almost impossible.  If so, he'd apparently found some success in brewing -- another reasonable career choice for a dwarf.

However -- perhaps rare for a bartender -- Philbert was a dwarf of few words, and he very rarely spoke about his past.  Unsurprisingly, Redrick had found it to be a quality common to many of those who worked at the Golden Fleece.  In general though, Philly was considered a "good listener" by the clientele.  Some might say that this quality was more valuable in a bartender...

"Been a rough night on Saxai," the dwarf said, vaguely pointing towards the half-orc sitting at the end of the bar, sipping water after her dance.

"Some nights she cleans up...but prejudices being what they are...clientele have to value a certain 'type' for that.  Lots of Gnomes, Humans and snooty elf-types slumming here tonight.  They generally don't go for her.  Some are actually scared shitless by her."  He paused.  "Others...probably the 'scared' that turns them on."

Philly shrugged.  "Worthy gets the same treatment at times.  Seems alright tonight though.  Shame really...both gorgeous women."

--From the skies--

Phryne landed behind the Golden Fleece. This wasn't a place she had been often, at least now looking like she will. She'd been a few times just to get ideas and even that had been a few years. In a dark place, though, she changed again and was back to her old, Phryne self. The attractive human woman who now, no apparent trace of her wings, any signed of her nature completely hidden by magic.

She entered the establishment and looked around. Always nicer than her place, then again it had people visiting with more coin and more support of the government than her little establishment in the Roe. Well, maybe not little but certainly less affluent.

She found herself at the bar, "Hello, is Leena in? And could I have a glass of sherry?" Her smile was bright and welcoming and she had the appearance of someone who could work here if she were, perhaps, wearing a little less than she was. Not that she was hiding, but she was dressed nicely.

Dolom, the human bartender, moved quickly to the pretty lady, bringing a glass of modestly dry sherry.  His counterpart, the dwarf Philly, was engaged in conversation with a red-haired patron.

"Madame Leena is there, Miss," he said, pointing towards where the proprietress sat, apparently chatting with a handsome fellow dressed in fine clothes.  Overhead, perched on a chandelier, a raven watched all around, pausing to study the newcomer sharply and carefully for a long moment, before finally turning away to preen a wing...

"Is there something I can help you with?"  He smiled, and his expression was a friendly one.

Taking a sip of the sherry it wasn't bad. It wasn't as interesting as the one from earlier, though. This wasn't a moment she needed interesting. "Ah," she looked over but the woman was busy. She knew that all too well.

"Likely not, other than the drink and maybe some friendly conversation. I need to speak with Leena as a colleague. And I did forget my manners, I'm Phryne." She didn't know if her name meant anything. All of her workers knew the other establishments by reputation, she didn't know if it was the same since she was in a part of town most people would rather not think about at all.

"Miss Phryne," he repeated with a nod and smile.  If the name meant anything to the bartender, he gave no indication of it.

"As a colleague?  Oh, well...I'm sure she'll be available to chat soon.  Probably just socializing with guests and such, you know?

"I can let her know you're waiting."

As if she had overheard the discussion, Phryne saw Leena look back over her shoulder to where the woman and bartender stood.  Her eyes met Phryne's for a moment, and there may have been the smallest inclination of her head.  Then, smiling at something her handsome companion had said, she returned her attention to him...

"Yes, a colleague. My place is in the Roe, though. Nothing quite as nice as this fine establishment>" She knew the rumors, too, at least some regarding Leena not that such rumors were always true. The ones about her were far from it.

"She sees me, like I said I can wait if the conversation and drink are good. So who do I have the pleasure of waiting with?"

"Oh, the pleasure's mine, ma'am.  Surrounded by lovely ladies here, as you know...but it's nice to see some new faces now and then.  Especially pretty ones like you, ma'am.  Your pardon..."  He held up a finger in a 'just a moment' gesture and quickly took a tray of drinks to one of the groups of patrons, before returning, wiping wet hands on his apron as he did so.

"Sorry about that.  Not a huge crowd at the Fleece tonight, but a good size -- and they're a bit thirstier than normal it seems; keeping us hopping."  He chuckled, shrugged.

"Your business is in the Roe, did you say?  Does it have a name?  I've not visited such a...such an establishment in the Roe....but I've nothing against the place, of course.  Fact, there's a few haunts there I know from my younger, wilder days.  And a fish-n-chips place on Klarney Way I'm quite partial to...used to be called Bloody Mike's. It was Bloody Gil's and Bloody Lenk's before that.  But I heard it's changed owners again.  Probably still 'Bloody' someone's or other's...been a few months since I visited..."

I can say it is a perk of the job." She waited and watched the place. It was definitely a different crowd.

"My place doesn't usually get busy until a bit later." Jobs were longer hours in the Roe for most people.

Phryne shook her head, "No, no name. It might be the oldest bordello in the Roe, all the scribbled phallic arrows in the old stone of the streets all lead to it, though." She laughed just a little, not cruelly just playful at his comment. "Well, I was born and raised in the Roe. And it's Bloody Jill's, Gil's girl took it over. She wasn't old enough when Gil retired so his brother Mike took over for a while but he always wanted to be a brewer and he's actually pretty good so it all worked out. Most places in the Roe are family affairs, either by blood or choice. You should check it out, she has the best batter, even puts her grandpa Lenk's to shame, bless his soul. He passed last year." The fact that she knew the family history of a random business owner in the Roe said a lot about her. "Honestly I don't make it out of the Roe much, other than a walk outside the city on occasion. I like the countryside, don't have much nature near me."

Dolom clapped his hands together in evident pleasure.  "Did she now; good for her! I remember Jill right enough...little thing, couldn't have seen more than twelve-thirteen summers last time I was there."  He whistled low, eyes thoughtful.  "Which means maybe it's been more than a 'few months' since I was last there.  Hmmm.

"Well, 'the weeks have wings' as they say.  But I'll definitely come down soon.  Been craving some fresh catch...and those currant biscuits were always a delight.

"Might come by and say hello to you as well, eh?  Long as I'm there?"  A smile, and then the bartender nodded to her glass.

"Get you a refill on that?  Looks like the Madame's meeting may be taking a bit longer than expected..."  As he spoke, the fiddler and penny whistler finished their break and returned to the stage.

Redrick listened attentively and then nodded when Philly pointed out Sakai's luck. Redrick didn't go for the type either, though he admitted Philly was right as she was a beautiful person. Nodding cheerfully, he was about to head down that way when someone swooped in. Blinking away his surprise, he noted the figure and recognized her, though mayhap she did not know him. Cheerfully, he moved toward the conversation to impose just a wee bit, but he tried to catch Saxai's eye and nod her over. He might not bed her, but he could keep her busy and, if she wanted, talk her into someone else's pants.

Redrick was nothing if not an accommodating fellow. He reminded himself he had business at the Parlour tonight or, mayhap, on the morrow.

Redrick stepped in and smiled at Phryne, "Well, hadn't expected to see such an esteemed person as yourself tonight. Figured you were busy elsewhere? A fine evening, isn't it?"

If Dolom felt any offense at the intrusion, he gave no indication of it.  With a nod, the bartender left the two, returning to 'bartenderly' activities as he hummed fairly tunefully along with the two instrumentalists.

It seemed that the Fleece's personnel were quite comfortable engaging in idle banter with customers, and equally comfortable stepping back when their involvement was no longer required...

OOC:  Take it away, folks...and feel free to engage with Dolom again if needed.  I just wanted to turn the focus back on PCs.

When she was addressed by a man who was only somewhat familiar, she shifted her attention from the bartender with a smile to both. His words, though, seemed strange considering her actual position. "Esteemed is rarely a word I hear to describe myself. But, it is a fine evening. And, thankfully, I needn't be at my business every night. Someone always has a way of contacting me should the need arise. I must apologize, though, I don't recall your name."

Raising an eyebrow, Redrick stepped back to flourish a bow as his masters had taught him then smiled cheekily, "Only a fool allows prejudice to impact his civility. You are a noteworthy and fine lady." Redrick shrugged then and cast off the fake pomp, "Or, at least, I've no reason not to esteem you, do I?" He chuckles then and offers a hand, "Redrick Hollowhall. Feel free to just call me Redrick. I'm a bit more roguish than the fine name would imply. Might I buy you a drink?"

"Of course, esteem away. Especially if you decided to visit my establishment." If never hurt to drum up a few more customers. "Nothing wrong with a bit of roguishness. Can certainly come in handy more often than many other traits. And, yes, I'd love a drink, Redrick. Perhaps a brandy on this lovely evening."

Redrick grinned and then spoke to Dolom, "A brandy for the lady. Whatever's best. I'll stick to my ale." Redrick then turned to lean against the bar and let his gaze roam around the establishment they were in, "Aye, I might visit but I never taste the goods." He frowns at the lovely ladies, noting the Saxai had not accepted his invitations. He was sorely tempted by them, but never so much he had ever actually relented. IF he hadn't been tempted, the ladies weren't very good, yeah? Chuckling, Redrick returned his attention to the lady he was entertaining now, "Aye, I find a bit of roguishness always in handy. My brothers disagree, but they're among the biggest crooks on the continent. So, why would I listen to them?",/purple>

He turned to face her now and drained a bit of his ale as he looked over the rim at her. <purple>"But, There are a lot of excellent reasons to visit your place, I am sure."

Seemingly having finished her meeting with the handsome half-elf, Leena stands, offering him a respectful nod, and then turns to where Redrick and Phryne stand chatting.  She seems to appraise the two for a moment, before crossing the room with the grace of a trained dancer.  As she draws closer, Leena's face lights up in a smile of warm welcome for the other brothel owner.

"Welcome to the Fleece," she says, reaching forward to take her competitor's hand in her own.  "I wish I'd known you were coming; I'd have prepared a better welcome for you."

Glancing at Redrick, the Mistress of the establishment adds, "How went the dicing?  Did you win something worth having?"

OOC:  Apologies to both of you for the long silence here.  Was waiting to finish the scene with Malachor, but he left us and then my own life briefly blew up...

Sauntering through the door with a slight spring in her step comes a young woman in an almost comically oversized minstrel’s hat and a black tunic. A cyan checkerboard pattern runs down both sides beneath her arms while a cyan grapevine insignia is emblazoned on the front. She moves with a casual grace and ease that seems to suggest she either doesn’t realize how many eyes are suddenly upon her or simply doesn’t care. She approaches the bar with a smile, her wide, crimson eyes locking with Philbert, who ultimately stood only a couple inches shorter than her.

“Pardon me, sir, but I’m here to ask after Madame Leena. Is she in, by any chance?”
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 02:54, Fri 23 Oct 2020.