PRP: Desperate Measures
The Cimmerian district of Tremorus was its most troubled area even before the war, and in the chaos following the siege, this mysterious, mist-shrouded district is plagued by crime and theft. Humanitarian supplies have gone missing in the Cimmerian, and help is needed to sort out who has taken them and what to do about it.
OOC: Open to all! I can take 5 people for this + anyone from Proscipi or Vaevici orgs (those are not counting against the 5). RSVP to me by @mail if you want to go so I can keep track! Normal risk. Combat will depend on whether problems are solved with words, sharp objects, sharp words, or all of the above.
June 17, 2021, 8:30 p.m.
Outside Arx - Saffron Chain near Tremorus - City of Tremorus
Comments and Log
Giorgio checks charm and manipulation at hard. Giorgio is successful.
A bar is always a good place to start.
The Cimmerian district always seems shrouded in mysterious mists from the low-hanging fog that settles around Mt. Arakkas. It would give this place an unsettling aspect even if not for its reputation. The bar that the group has found their way to is not like any Arvani tavern -- it is quite open to the air, no real walls, and vines and foliage have grown through the disreputable roof, hanging down amongst strings of lanterns. The glass of the lanterns is red, casting an ominous sort of glow over everything.
There are plenty of people here, none of them dressed in finery and all of them looking tough and wary -- though they are not without their revels. A 'bard' of sorts lazily picks a song on a simple instrument that's barely more than four strings on a board off at one end of this place, and serving staff both male and female wind around to and fro dropping off drinks at tables, serving food, or tending the bar. Sometimes you can get ahold of them and sometimes you can't.
Arvani are uncommon here, but far more common since the aid workers arrived, and an arriving group of them does get some stares -- but it's not the first of this kind of person the Cimmerian Arakkoans have seen, and while they're always suspicious, they aren't outright shocked. Most of the patrons, oddly, seem to want to be on either the west side of this 'establishment' or the east, not toward the center. This was, sources said, 'the' place to go for information.
The name of the bar is something totally unpronounceable that translates to Blood Moon.
Martinique isn't the most reputable character herself at times, so venturing into a disreputable district was up her dark alley, so to speak. In particular, she will try to keep an eye on her more civilized and noble-blooded allies, being a better watcher and brooder than talker when it comes to seeking out information. At least there appears to be drinking to be had, and the soldier's eyes rove over the room the way it seems divided, picking out servers as they thread between.
Orland checks perception and streetwise at normal. Orland is successful.
Giorgio is not a stranger to the Cimmerian District. He has braved these streets before with Savio at his side, though times were much different then. Tremorus had not been the victim of a terrible siege, and Giorgio had not yet been named the Marquis of the domain. And so when it was decided that the group would be braving the more dangerous region of the city, Giorgio had informed the group that he would be going by the name Fabio and he would be adopting a disguise.
Entering into the bar, Giorgio is dressed perhaps as shabbily as he has ever been. Maybe he raided Savio's closet? His hair is tousled and unkempt, he wears an eye patch over his left eye, and he is outfit in clothes that seem as though they were pulled off of some bum on the beach. His eyes search the perimeter of the space for someone or something, perhaps a familiar color or marking of one of the Gallant Lads would be present?
Orland had tried to hang back from the 'general' group but it was rather impossible not to be clumped with the group when strolling into the Blood Moon. He's taken an opportunity to try to mask his own gear with some toned down garb slipped over top, in the Aarakon fashion. He's been here enough times to mesh the two styles together without imposing on getting to his knives. He's not wearing the fancy hat today either! Immediately, he veers off to the side, certainly not wanting to funnel down the middle. He's always been on the east side of the world, so he naturally seems inclined to feel that direction held some opportunity. He slides into one of the empty seats, brazenly, lifting a brow, as a little bag of silver is quietly set before him, but in plain view of some of the occupants on the east side. He's definitely waiting to be served, not at all flashing some need for information, unspoken, never would think about it. Eyes never searched once for a server.
Giorgio checks perception at normal. Giorgio is successful.
Zakhar saunters in a shamble of a walk, someone might have explained to go in incognito, and he laughed at them. Wearing a mix of his purple and black silks with black and gray leathers, the frying pan and spoon easily able to be spotted upon his person. He's got the butcher knife strapped to the front of the vest in an easy to rip position if needed and is muttering to himself about the lack of finer things in his life failing to make the trip properly due to getting wet and then having to spend the rest of the trip here trying to dry the leaves out. He's grumpy and mostly sober. If anyone bothered to tell him about the location and to stay out of the center, he wasn't listening. And thus is wandering down the middle of the bar heading mostly in a straight line for the bartop, grabbing at whatever glass with liquid might cross his path and attempt to down it before the server starts yelling at him.
Zakhar mutters, "Ift we ... kept our heads down then the ... wouldn't have made it all wet... not that hard, cooking ... ... not make ... any better. need to find ... this sobriety is the worst, ... no dam cocks either. Get a drink, ... it out from there. get a drink. hello drink. Shuddup and ... fuck off, ... ... more to drink, or something to ... Yes, drink. No. Smoke..."
Bards gonna bard, baby. It's what bards do. Completely unaffected by the aura of suspicious lurking death that looms over the bar, and is immediately attracted to the ahem, performance of the bard, instead. The benefits of being a Whisper mean that he's visibly at home in any sort of space, and the further benefits of being none-too-attached to material possessions mean that he's dressed nicely, but not in clothing that's obviously wildly out of reach for a commoner. He is a commoner, after all. Just a fancy one.
If everyone else has decided to blend in, it's Cesare who's taken on the role of standing out this evening. He pauses briefly to confer with Fabiorgio and then heads for the bard. If the bard doesn't speak Arvani? Doesn't matter. Cesare has a lute on hand, and music is a universal language.
Scythia can't help but catch and keep attention, it's just in the way she walks and moves. So she's elected to stay with Cesare, the other attention-grabber. Dressed more simply than not, she is presenting herself where he has his lute as something that she cannot hide and that marks her every gesture, a dancer. A very pretty dancer.
A female server with short dark hair, carrying a tray of drinks, looks Martinique up-down-up and then winks. She isn't really a super pretty server, scarred up in a way that hints at past violence, and which is a little worse for her looks than some can pull off. But she's got confidence and that certain je ne sais quoi, you know? She's conspicuously hanging around near where the soldier has settled... just in case she wants a word, maybe.
Giorgio only spots one person who he suspects might be a Gallant Lad, the same gang that his assistant Luxe was once from. This person, a lanky teenage boy, is one of the very few people who have chosen Center Bar instead of East or West. He hasn't noticed Fabio/Giorgio yet because he is staring, entranced, at the wild oddity that is one Zakhar. He's just frozen. He's never seen anything like that person, but have any of us?
As Orland settles in on the east side, a man with an easy smile and cold eyes greets him with, "We don't see many foreigners in these parts." His Arvani is heavily accented, but at least he speaks it. "Here I thought you people just liked it further up-mountain where the sun shines a little bit warmer."
Cesare is making friends on the west side with another Arakkoan, that 'bard', who also seems to speak Arvani -- maybe it is becoming a bit more common since the Compact grows ever closer in some ways. While not exactly hostile, he peers between Cesare and Scythia in what looks like a not small amount of wariness. "What do you want? You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something."
Martinique gives the server a sly little smile as the woman lingers nearby, then inclines her head in a somewhat inviting gesture, even as she spreads a few coins on the tabletop--payment for drinks perhaps, and an offer to buy one for the lady in question, as a purchase of a few moments of time.
Giorgio tries to keep an eye on all of the group that he came down here with, but as they begin to spread out to their various angles and directions, it becomes impossible to do so while still making himself useful. When he spies the Gallant Lad sitting center bar and entranced by Zakhar, Giorgio slouches and shuffles his way over toward the young man and leans against the spot of bar he has claimed. He speaks in a low voice, allowing his voice to slip into the familiar Saffron accent that he has tried so hard to lose since joining the Compact. "Luxe sends 'is best. Said the Lads might'n be able ter help us find some missin supplies... eh?" he says with a lift of his brows.
Cesare checks charm and seduction at normal. Cesare is successful.
Zakhar checks luck and streetwise at hard. Zakhar is successful.
Mikani seems to be able to just blend in as she gets a drink and watches the group. She also takes in the crowd for anything interesting.
Orland suddenly slips into Arakkoan, at least to break into a pretty basic greeting. It's nothing charming but it does, at least, point to the fact that a foreigner knows their language. He leans into the table a little, with his hands quickly fishing the little silver purse out of their sight. He keeps hold of the other's cold eyes, "Caught a boat, tis the way to get 'ere now..." he says with an ironic twist and in an accent that was grungy like the Lowers of Arx. "You the boss?"
Cesare leans in, swinging the lute around from where it's strapped to his back. He gives it a strum. But it's not like, a real strum, it's a strum that lets the bard look straight down the loosely-laced neck of his shirt. And Cesare has that /thing/ - that particular ability to make whoever he's looking at feel like he's looking at them, and only them, and has possibly only ever looked at them, like they're something really, truly special. "I just wanted to learn some Arakkoan tunes," he says. All low and throaty. Just barely loud enough to be heard above the din of the bar. Loud enough that this Taurus bard, who is missing teeth and needs a shower, has to lean in to hear him. "I thought maybe you could teach me."
Scythia checks charm and seduction at normal. Scythia is successful.
Orland checks charm and streetwise at normal. Orland marginally fails.
Zakhar continues upon his haphazard path and stumbles into the bar, dropping the glass he snagged on the way over, then looking at the bartender squarely while contemplating reaching over the bar to grab at any bottle of what could be his next drink. While he's eyeing the possible drinks Zakhar nods to the fabulous Giorgio with an eyepatch, a small wink as the old man slides up to the lad's other side. With the Isle's mix shav dialect, and that little something ancient hiding in the shadows, Zakhar speaks softly to the young man that was frozen upon this visage that is Zakhar in a new environment. "Ya happen to know where to get some haze about here? Or possibly some of the aid stuff that I keep hearing is about?"
Scythia answers in her velvety purring voice, giving it a bit of huskiness that makes it oh-so-effortlessly sultry, taking the opposite tactic to Cesare and not looking at the bard, as though looking will entice something within, her fingers raising to curl and tuck deep black hair behind an ear, "And I..." Emphasis on the next word, "....long" A pregnant pause of her purring voice as she continues, a quick glance to make sure her words are being heard, hung onto, and listened for, "to dance to some Arakkoan tunes. I think it would prove... illuminating." Her eyes flick to him for a moment, then up and down in a slow sweep.
Martinique checks charm and etiquette at normal. Martinique is successful.
Mikani checks perception at normal. Mikani marginally fails.
That money is spotted right away, and the lady who likes Martinique moseys right on up to her and scoops it up. She smiles. Like everyone here, her accent is quite strong, but she's understandable. "Something you need? Looks like your friends are all finding friends, we don't want you to be lonely. Interesting mix of people your friends are mixing with... ah, foreigners, I love them."
Giorgio and Zakhar are making friends with that lanky teen -- he doesn't seem to be quite so sure of Giorgio/Fabio. "Luxe LEFT," he sniffs, but it's as much a confirmation as any that he is a Gallant Lad or knows them. "Listen, you all should have stayed in one group. Some of you went over to one side and some over to the other side? That's just asking for trouble. The only reason this hasn't blown up is because you're foreigners and everyone knows you don't know anything." He leans in closer to Zakhar and Giorgio. "NO ONE here knows ANYTHING about aid stuff, okay? I'm not in a mood to die over this when you stir up the Lords of Arakkas and Nightfall both, cause you come in here asking dumb questions!"
Orland's friend seems surprised by the Arakkoan language, but unsure what to make of it -- it seems to startle him such that he needs an extra moment to consider who this person is, atypical for an Arvani... and he looks around for a moment as though now suddenly worried some of his east-side friends' conversations can be overheard! He didn't know that was possible! But he's not completely off-put. "The boss? No. No bosses here... but if you're trying to talk to the Lords of Arakkas, I could get you the right person. If you pay the right price. Make an offer."
Cesare and Scythia are SUPER impressing the busted bard in need of a shower. "Well! You have come to the right place," he insists, sitting with his legs splayed out, knees apart. He sets his 'instrument' aside and pats his knees as if to invite one or both of them to sit. "You're looking at Nightfall's BEST musician... and I can tell you anything you want to know."
Mikani is peeping around with her keen peepers... but she can't detect anyone paying unusual attention to the group. Just the fact that they're foreigners, and weird by default.
Cesare checks charm and manipulation at normal. Botch! Cesare fails completely.
Orland checks luck and streetwise at normal. Orland fails.
Scythia checks composure and seduction at hard. Scythia is successful.
Cesare settles right down onto one of the bard's knees, draping his arms around the man's neck and hitting himself directly in the face with the neck of his own lute in the process, none too gently. "Gods damn it," he says. He might have a black eye after this. And he is still in the guy's lap. At least Scythia doesn't have to sit there!
Giorgio looks up with the one eye uncovered by that eye patch and meets Zakhar's gaze, holding it for just a moment before he leans in a bit closer to the youth and mutters in a low voice. "Luxe left, yeah him did. Left with that Pontelaeus, George... Georgee... Oh." He reaches up to tap his temple and says, "But Luxe be back. Ee's up in the city proper, elp'ing where him can. But we needs yer help too. The Lads got work to do. Tell us bout the Lords of Arakkas and Nightfall. Fast."
Mikani checks luck and streetwise at normal. Botch! Mikani fails completely.
Martinique checks charm and war at normal. Martinique is successful.
Orland checks dexterity and legerdemain at normal. Orland is successful.
"Yes, lonliness, the true plague. Nevermind all those normal ones." Martinique offers with a mostly friendly grin. "What I need most in the world right now is a drink, and if you'd join me in one a bit of conversation would be welcome. You're right of course, we're Arvani, newly arrived. Studying some of the effects of the war and some of the things that happened during--I fought at Pieros myself, as that's where I was sent." She'll gesture towards the seat opposite. "I know Tremorus took a lot of harm from the attack."
Orland lets a sly smirk follow the worried look toward the rest of the east-side friends, waiting until the man's gaze turns back to him. The truth is he's completely out of his element here, without the proper individuals to help guide the conversations. He resists the urge to look toward Giorgio for help, since they're quite busy over there. Instead he nods at the man across from him, "Reckon I understand a little of how hard hit the city been. Merchandise be hard to get, but I got a way to get it, straight to the Lords. Hmm. Ships 'n everythin." He flicks out the little satchel of coin from up behind his back - in a juggling little move meant to show off his swiftness and agility with his hands, snatching it in the air and bouncing it once over toward the man. "Five." Hundred he means.
Mikani feels like the haze in the hair is clouding her or something. But everyone doesn't seem to be watching them as anything other as the foreigners that they are. She also begins to look for familiar faces. Maybe it's the show that Cesare and Scythia are putting on but nope. Not a face she knows. She frowns. Instead she stands to go talk to the bartender. they always know what's what.
Orland drops coins worth 500.0 silver.
Orland gets 500 silver.
Scythia looks at Cesare with a moment of concern that smooths over as she slides and circles around to stand behind mister musty-crusty, as Cesare takes the hot seat. Her hands slide up to rest upon his shoulders as she continues her charade of seduction in her sultry, purring voice, "Some people can't handle their... instruments. How well do you play?" She manages to keep her face straight, and her act remains intact, even as she gives Cesare a questioning look over the man's head, visually checking if he is actually alright.
Zakhar checks composure at normal. Zakhar is successful.
Giorgio checks charm and manipulation at normal. Giorgio is successful.
Zakhar has a cold stare for the young man as Giorgio gets back to trying to talk to them in their language. His right eye twitches a little as he leans a little closer as he drops the haze that he had with him onto the bar top. It makes a very wet splostch as the sea water drenched leaf now looks sad as it sits there. Zakhar points at the leaf. "Need more of that. Only dry. Sober sucks."
The bard, Crocodile, is not impressed with Cesare anymore. He thought this was an elegant creature of grace and beauty. No. This has turned out to just be a Regular Person, one who hits himself in the face with a lute! Something about this... no he does not like this at ALL anymore, and he looks like he's about to make a DAMN SCENE when it's faintly rescued by Scythia. He's still unhappy though. "I have just realized that I am very busy and important," he insists, trying to herd Cesare off his lap. "I am sorry. No time for you both. I'm Kaleo Nightfall's number one, you know, I am very busy... I cannot be dealing with foreigners who are," he gestures at the rest of the group, "Mixed up with the Gallant Lads and the Lords of Arakkas." He unceremoniously attempts to leave. But this does identify something here: The West side belongs to some group called Nightfall. The East, the Lords of Arakkas.
Martinique is having better luck with her server. "The war was hard on us all, especially here in the Cimmerian," she agrees. "It hit the Nightfall folks worst of all, given where 'connections' had been. They've been the most desperate for everything since. Practically reduced to poverty... sad to see it."
Orland took a shot in the dark at his price, but it seems grudgingly accepted by his companion. "Talk to Ikua, if you want to make a deal with the Lords," he suggests, and then gets up and starts to stride away, after pointing at a shadowy man alone at a large table on the east side.
Mikani had a good idea looking for contacts she might know here and failing that, approaching the bar. But sad for her, she DOES find someone she knows, and it is the bartender, and he either does know her or he thinks he does. And he isn't happy about it. "YOU!" He's not happy at all. "You think you can come in here like this after what you pulled, years ago? No one has forgotten!"
The Gallant Lad teen hahs at Zakhar's sad wet lump. "Sad. Sad for you," he scolds. "One thousand silver." He looks back to Giorgio like he's a total idiot. "You mean the MARQUIS?" Duh... moron. He sighs. "You guys are going to get stabbed. Listen -- I don't know anything about supplies gone missing and if I did I wouldn't tell you. But I can tell you that the Lords of Arakkas came out on top in this war, because they're pro-Compact, and Nightfall got hammered because they were... ah, not. Those two don't get along at all. Each has claimed a part of this bar, like how they do most nights. That's it! That's all I can tell you."
Mikani checks composure and performance at normal. Mikani is successful.
Scythia checks charm and performance at normal. Scythia is successful.
Scythia checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Scythia is successful.
Martinique checks charm and war at normal. Critical Success! Martinique is spectacularly successful.
Cesare checks charm and seduction at normal. Cesare is successful.
Mikani smiles at the bartender. Warmly. "Awwww ... you remembered me love." Not that she really knew the man she was talking to but sugar was always better than vinegar. "I'm genuinely warmed to the heart." She grins more as she takes a seat keeping her voice low. "You know with everything going on in the compact, I really couldn't make it back out here to fix those wrongs until now."
Orland slides out of the seat once the man he was speaking with accepts the donation to their cause... or donation to speak with Ikua. For a languid moment he regards the man alone at the large table, before he works his way over toward Ikua. "Lord Ikua," he intones with a slow glance behind him giving time to companions to come help him out, his brown eyes turning back to Ikua, "Reckon we may be havin some business." The noise of the others in the bar has him consider them as he asks, "Can I buy you a round?" This time he's actually looking for servers.
"The Nightfall...I gather they're less impressed with foreign visitors. And desperation after a conflict...can drive some poor decisions." Martinique muses quietly. She's just sort of guessing at the young woman's affiliation or at least sympathies. "I'm Martinique by the way." She'll offer with another friendly smile. "And normally I'm a soldier, but most of being a soldier is actually worrying about supply lines. And when things go missing. Which is very often because the courier with the dispatches got drunk and lost but not always." She sort of lets the implication hang there. "And sometimes a tired officer has to ride out and find where things went."
Zakhar checks strength and small wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.
Zakhar wields small frying pan with sharpened rim and leather grip.
Cesare, nursing his eye, is unceremoniously dumped off of the bard's lap and gives his retreating death stare that could wither the testicle of many a man as he leaves the bar. He wasn't even a good musician. But that's beside the point: Cesare makes a scan of the bar, gently points Scythia in the direction of Mikani, and heads over toward Fabiorgio, offering another quiet aside to him. At this point it seems from the number of eyes turned their way they've all been made, at least inasmuch as most of them seem to have realized the entire Arvani group...is a group.
It's not hard to see Ikua is important, and apparently Orland has come to the same conclusion. Cesare sidles up around the same time. Strums the lute. Another one of those /look right down my shirt at all this skin, I'm a beautiful creature of charm and grace who has never once smacked himself directly in the face with his own instrument/ type of strums. "A round and a song, perhaps?"
You hate for her to walk away, but love to watch her go. Scythia's slinky, hip-swaying walk gives that bard a show to make him regret every decision in life that led him to dismissing her. She flashes a wink, blows a kiss and draws eyes with her dancer's gait as she steps over to Mikani, her arm hooking through the woman's as she looks at the bartender and flutters her lashes, "What seems to be the problem?."
Zakhar nods to the kid. "Hah! done!" And drops 1000 silver for them, pulling the haze over to then roll it up and tuck the smoke into his lip. A quick light and the blue rolling smoke is drifting off his tongue. A small hesitation with a satisfied smirk. His eyes watching the scene unfold around the bar with where their group has wandered off to in each of the sides and how they are fairing. As the bartender is making their way to argue? further with Mikani and unaware of whatever Scythia is on about, he pulls the frying pan from its resting place upon the back of his vest and gives it a little spin. Between puffs, then tucking the smoke to the corner of his lip. "Hey Barkeep!" When the man looks his way, Zakhar hops over the bar and swings wildly at the bartender with the frying pan. "Stop. Giving. Me. Friends. A. Hard. Time." Then standing back up with his snow-white locks messed up and looking back from the bar, "Anyone want something to drink?"
Giorgio checks perception and streetwise at hard. Giorgio is successful.
Giorgio/Fabio continues to stare at the Lad for a moment before offering a whisper of an aside, "I'll tell Luxe to come see you when he is done with his work. He's committed to the course. Don't lose hope." That tone of voice, even in a whisper, is far different than the accent he had been using. Perhaps one that is recognizable? Swinging away from the table then, Giorgio begins to shuffle off and toward the Nightfall side of the bar, his 'good' eye shifting around as if seeking out someone that looks important enough to be the Nightfall leader.
Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Zakhar is successful.
The waitress who has joined Martinique seems really impressed that this Arvani person actually cares about the war! and knows what happened in it! "Ohh... Martinique!" Her accent handles the name strangely, but it sounds kind of nice. "My name is Hala." Lemme Hala atcha sometime. "Yes... you're exactly right." She leans in closer. "Nightfall was smuggling out of Eurus, and they had banked a lot on this. The war has completely ruined them. The word on the street is that they're the ones that have been filching supplies from the supply lines up-mountain -- desperate acts from desperate people, as you said. The Lords of Arakkas hate Nightfall, though, and they might think you have a common enemy if Nightfall is bothering you too." She blows a kiss. "I have to get back to work. But I get off work just after midnight...." She slips away. For now.
Orland and Cesare make their way to the empty table of Ikua, an important figure in the Lords of Arakkas. "Friends," he greets, his Arvani a little better than everyone else's. He doesn't seem to mind the idea of buying a round, or the song. "Of course. Please be welcome."
Scythia and Mikani were doing a great job de-escalating the angry bartender. He was maybe willing to hear about some wrongs righted... he does love the alluring Scythia's dancer-grace as she sashays over! He was just starting to feel better about life when, alas, he has been... ZAKHAR'D
To Zakhar: Verb: clobbering the unworthy with what is typically a kitchen instrument, for maybe a good reason and maybe not a good reason
The bar in the near vicinity erupts into chaos as everyone starts shouting, excited about the prospect of a fight, in multiple languages. The bartender, howling in pain, throws a bottle of rum at Zak, misses, it is neatly caught by the Gallant Lad who runs out the door with it. Win-win.
The only people who don't seem to care about this are Ikua, over there, and a person spotted by Giorgio over on the nightfall side -- an older man with graying hair, who looks like, must be Tuesday, and has the air of authority about him. That must be Kaleo.
Cesare checks charm and performance at normal. Cesare marginally fails.
This is what Martinique was looking for. Hala is rewarded with a very pleased expression at her disclosure even as the bar begins erupting into chaos with--yep there's Zakhar at the center of it. She actually looks a bit longingly at the barfight in the process of breaking out, but tonight is not the night for brawling. Instead, she'll make her way over to the table with Ikua, and give the man a bow before she seats herself next to Orland and whispers to him briefly, more or less relaying what Hala said. If the chaos comes closer of course, she'll respond to it, but for the moment she is simply wary.
Giorgio, having spied Kaleo, makes his way toward him at that same shuffling gait. The closer he gets to the head of the gang, the safer he figures he will be once the bar sinks into a violent mosh pit with the bar fight. He intends to get as close as close as he can to the leader, and if possible join his table. "Kaleo Nightfall?" he asks of the man, his voice slipping back into Arakkoan and the same native accent. "Word is that you might be a good man to seek out for help? My family took it pretty hard in the war and I need to get them help... I got no where else to turn..." he says. He's bluffing, but Giorgio is typically pretty good at that.
Giorgio checks charm and manipulation at normal. Botch! Giorgio fails badly.
Mikani moves Scythia behind her in a very protective fashion as she wields her fighting sticks. "Zach ... what in the Gods and Spirits are you going?" She growls as she looks around daring someone to come after her.
Mikani wields Swallow's Protection - Diamondplate Fighting Sticks.
Upon the fight breaking out, Orland gestures for Cesare to move into the safety of being furthest away from it and it looks like drinks won't likely be served until someone's not hitting people with frying pans. Other than directing Cesare to the more secured place away from the fight, Orland is trying not to be bothered by it. He might punch Zakhar later, but it's really not a concern now. At that point Martinique spills the tea from Hala, to which he nods thoughtfully over at her and regards Ikua. "We might be delayed for drinks but we can at least speak until Hala can find us a bottle or two out of that .. fray." Dismissive gesture toward the fighting. "We'd like to align ourselves with some business partners in these parts," he starts straight off, like things weren't flying around or being thrown, "We've heard your ... competition, made out quite well trading with the Eurusi. We're here, to secure trade with those who were, willing to work with us. But the trouble is, to keep trade, no, to amplify trade here, we have to stop the bleed on supplies that already got here. Too many go missing and less will land here, if you catch my drift. We want to secure down trade, if that means taking out your rival...""
The poor lute has seen better days that didn't end in it being smashed into Cesare's face. Nonetheless, he gamely tunes it to the best of his ability over the din of the shouting, ignoring the chaos with Zakhar at its center - this is a normal state, when Zakhar is about. He sings an improvised song about two gangs at war in a city on a mountain, one of which is stealing DIRELY NEEDED supplies, and a very handsome and suave leader of one gang who might know where those supplies are and how to get them back, fOR THE PEOPLE. It's not terribly subtle. It also doesn't even come close to rhyming. Only the fact that Cesare's voice is so enthrallingly lovely really saves it from not being terrible. At least it's better than anything Crocodile could manage, by far.
Zakhar pushes his hair back, it doesn't help any. At best it just shows off some of the mark that runs his scalp, then he rolls his shoulders back a little while he is now chipperly smirking at any that want to join into this little fray. He looks over to Mikani. "Got bored." He takes another puff of the smoke then pulls the spoon out. - Cause, this works great. Spoon in one hand, frying pan in the other...
Scythia picks a directions and hoofs it, moving towards the table that Ikua sits at. She skirts around and asks in her velvety voice, "May I join you?" She waits to be allowed to the table before settling down, her gaze on Ikua as she waits and listens, otherwise.
Scythia checks wits and empathy at normal. Scythia is successful.
Kaleo is not impressed with Giorgio, and just gives him a long stare for the lie. "Do you think I did not see you come in with the very same people who are now speaking to Ikua of the Lords of Arakkas, at this very moment? No, I do not think I can help you, and I do not have anything to say to you."
Martinique is successful at passing her information to her companions, and even though Mikani is ready to throw down, the bar-fighters don't seem inclined to go after her or the lovely Scythia. Mostly they seem like they were looking for an excuse, any excuse, to throw down with the east side folks of the bar fighting the west side folks of the bar. They don't even care what it's about, just looking for a scrap. The bar tender, perhaps wisely, does not pursue further violence against Zakhar, and while Cesare's song doesn't calm everybody, nor does it spur them to greater feats of Team Bad Behavior.
Cesare, Martinique, Scythia, and Orland have the attention of Ikua, who just smiles at them. "I know who you are and what you're after," he confirms. "Our goals are not at odds, I think. Gather your people and we can talk."
Cesare checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Cesare is successful.
Zakhar checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.
Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Zakhar is successful.
Mikani putting away her fighting sticks. Mikani makes her way to Kaleo's table. "Man. You hit someone with a frying pan and it all goes to shit." She says as she pulls a small bottle of rum from her holster and sets it down on Kaleo's table. "I'm Mikani. I'd like to get to know you better."
Settling the lute on his lap, Cesare decides this time to take a route other than seduction, considering how poorly it went for him last time. One bruised eye is enough. "We don't want to see anyone get hurt," he says, blatantly ignoring what the one remaining member of their party is wreaking with cutlery just behind. "We're just here to try and make sure those supplies get to the people who actually need them. Tremorus has already been through more than its fair share of trouble and those of us who are Arvani want to assist with that trouble, not make it worse." He gestures to the West side of the bar, where not a single person is looking at them in a friendly manner. "We already have enough to do to win everyone over. Finding these supplies and making sure they're put in the hands of citizens who need them is the least we can do. Perhaps if the Lords would assist us, we could open up some opportunities with the Compact at large."
Mikani checks charm and manipulation at hard. Mikani is successful.
"Very well..." Giorgio says with a tone that is both unhappy with himself for the failed lie and less than impressed with this fool who just unknowingly dismissed the Marquis of Tremorus. "Very well. Perhaps Ikua will be more receptive to warnings of what I've heard will be coming down the road if those supplies do not show back up to their intended recipients," he says in a thinly veiled threat before making to head as if he will join Orlando and the other gang leader.
Giorgio checks command and intimidation at normal. Giorgio is successful.
Zakhar takes a little bounce and as East and West charge into a fray, he's just bashing some poor schmuck over the head with the frying pan. There's no discern over which side he may or may not be on, everyone in the middle is a target to the old man. Catching some off guard as he starts to laugh, pocketing the spoon and handing the smoke over to someone then hitting that same person with the frying pan and as they fall over grabbing the smoke back. He's visibly in a better mood and laughing as the bar fight continues, waving at the next, offering a smoke with whomever is daring enough to get within distance of the pan.
Scythia looks at Ikua, her eyebrow raising as she tells him in her soft, velvety voice, "Now. I have to wonder how such a thing could bring down the Nightfall to their knees. I can see many ways, can you?" The young woman curves her lips up in a sly smile.
*** Orland has called for an opposing check with Zakhar. ***
Orland checks command and leadership at easy. Botch! Orland fails completely.
Zakhar checks willpower and survival at easy. Zakhar is successful.
*** Zakhar is the winner. ***
Orland takes a long look over at Zakhar, like, BUDDY, what are you doing?! Good thing Cesare is talking now because Orland's slipping away from the table to go "gather" his people... his people being Zakhar... He probably gets hit with that frying pan I guess!
Kaleo actually gives Mikani a bit of a smile. Maybe he didn't see her come in with her friends, or he just likes the cut of her jib. "Well then. What would you like to know?" he asks her. Giorgio.... just gets a long, even look. No comment.
It's quite the meeting over there with Ikua, backdropped as it is by Zakhar merrily fighting all the Cimmerian district and everyone in every gang, there. Ikua smiles at Scythia, seeming to appreciate her willingness to get right to the point there, and then dips his head in a nod for Cesare as well. "Just so," he agrees. "I will be open with you, my dear Arvani friends. The Nightfall has taken your supplies, yes, because the Compact is now policing their waters heavily, and they cannot any longer smuggle to and from the evil and rightfully destroyed Eurusi. They have stored all the supplies at a place they believe to be secret. It is not so secret."
Ikua smiles. "I will tell you where the supplies are if you kill all of the Nightfall guards and gang members who are currently protecting them. Not run off, not bargained with, they must die. Or... perhaps you can tell me exactly what the Compact might do for the Lords of Arakkas? And," a tip of his head toward Scythia, "Against the enemies of the Lords. I am not unreasonable. I am listening."
Should Orland be hit with a pan, Ikua will graciously ignore it. He's cool that way.
Cesare checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Cesare is successful.
Martinique checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Martinique is marginally successful.
Violent solution? Yes please. Martinique just instantly perks at the idea of murdering all the guards and stealing all the stuff back. She's downright eager, actually. "I mean, I'm happy to put an end to Eurusi-lovers and get stuff back." She'll offer, speaking to the Arrakkas leader directly for the first time. Of course, she can't speak for the whole city and they probably should get Giorgio...'s chosen representative to come talk. Also she probably can't kill an entire warehouse's worth of guards by herself. Probably.
Mikani smiles more at Kaleo and opens the rum and pours it into two empty glasses. There is always empty glasses somewhere. "Nothing too serious. I'm looking for some of my missing product. See some aid items was sent to the city after the war ... and now they are missing." She takes a draw of her rum and watches the man with her dark gaze. "I figured someone like you would have had to had heard what happened. There could be a profit in it for you."
Giorgio checks perception and empathy at normal. Giorgio is successful.
Cesare turns to look out over the crowd, perhaps looking for a shabbily-dressed man named FABIO somewhere on the other side of the room. But who could tell, really? He turns back to Ikua then, with a slight smile and focused intent. "Good sir. After all the losses you've just suffered - a siege, a storm - wouldn't you rather have the Nightfall working for you, instead? Now that the Pontelaeus are elevated and can't see to the markets directly, someone who's savvy with trade could step up to fill that gap. You've created an organization here. You're pro-Compact. There could be space for you; real money, the kind nobility throws around. No more scrabbling for supplies, no more fighting over turf. You're a man with ambition, are you not, Ikua? Set your sights higher. You could make this entire district better. Why be feared, when you could be respected. No - /beloved./"
Mikani checks charm and propaganda at hard. Mikani is successful.
There is a shake of Giorgio's head for Kaleo's stare and then he spares the man no other thought. He has caught a discreet motion from Cesare, and that only speeds Giorgio's approach toward the other gang leader. If Kaleo or Ikua are watching Giorgio/Fabio's movement across the room, they will note a curious transformation take him over. His shuffling gait grows more fluid and graceful the closer he gets to Ikua, his slouch straightening until he is standing upright regally. By the time Giorgio draws out a chair and eases himself down, Giorgio is lifting his hands to remove that eye patch and to run his fingertips through his tousled hair in an effort to make himself more presentable. "Master Ikua, I believe?" he says. "Perhaps we can come to some agreement?"
Scythia checks command and manipulation at normal. Scythia is successful.
There's a brief moment when Orland says something to Zakhar in the middle of his backswing, a glancing blow to whoever is front of him and he's staring at Orland with a bit of twinge in his eyes. "IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BACKSWING??? ORLAND. SERIOUSLY?!" He swings his arms wide clocking another coming up behind him, then attempts to throw the spoon at someone coming up along side of Orland. "Lordling. Just. DOWN!"
Scythia's eyes trail to Giorgio, track his movements and transformation as he approaches Ikua. Her hands fold atop the table as her words purr, her gaze fixing on Ikua, dark, glittering with their amber flecks, and magnetic in the way her presence sometimes draws attention, "I would listen to what this man has to say." She assures the man, with every evidence of conviction in her voice as she raises a finger to indicate Giorgio.
Cesare checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Cesare is successful.
TWANG. Orland rolls aside as he's clipped by the swing, grabbing onto his nose because something definitely fucking broke there. Was it his jaw?! Nose? Teeth missing?! The fuck!!!! Honestly, he doesn't have to be asked to go down, being clipped was enough to have him stagger and sink to the floor, not without a little bit of a cry!
Giorgio glances toward Cesare as he settles in, having heard the offer from the Whisper to the gang leader. There is a moment's consideration before he brings his eyes back to Ikua and he studies the man intently. "The Nightfall clan and its leader definitely have not impressed me this evening, so what my dear friend here says does have merit. Though I would add a few necessary caveats. The Pontelaeus have not all been ennobled, after all. Only Savio and myself received that honor," he says calmly, with the air of one who is quite used to negotiating trade agreements. "But I need the Cimmerian District to be on my side. If I were to support you rising to such a position as my friend here suggests, do you feel that you could be the man that assures this? Naturally the Gallant Lads would need to stay independent as I already have a personal affiliation with them, but the Nightfall... I grow weary of them. They can join you, or you can eliminate them."
Giorgio checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Giorgio is successful.
Orland is definitely holding his nose and there's definitely some blood spewing through his fingers. Do not get in the way of the Bloody Iron Chef! His backswings are killer! At least there's no teeth being spat on the floor - that wouldn't have been a good look. Hockey teeth aren't trophies here! Orland oooooowwwwssss and 'awwww fucks'... somewhere in there, very nasally at this point as he rolls a little under the bar to keep out of the way of the fighting.
Zakhar checks perception and brawl at normal. Zakhar fails.
Kaleo is being won over by Mikani... though it might be mostly useful in the sense that he's so focused on her, he's completely unwary of the important meeting happening over yonder! To focus on her, he's forgetting about them, and he might come to regret that. "I can find many missing things. Tell me about this profit."
Ikua smiles at Martinique. He likes her STYLE, yes, the STAB PEOPLE STYLE. He's Arakkoan, Arakkoans love to murder their enemies, it's a thing. Cesare continues with a /very/ intriguing notion that has his eyebrows raised in interest, and then lo and behold the lowly FABIO turns out to be MARQUIS GIOOOOOORGIOOOOO what a twist, mah god. Ikua is too cool to be shocked, but he does seem wary before continuing to listen to Giorgio, and perhaps set at ease over this. All of them are making good points, and who could resist Scythia's conviction, backing up her companions!
Orland getting absolutely clobbered by the pan seems to ironically accomplish what he might have been originally after. No one seems sure what to do if the Arvani are fighting themselves with cookware. The fight hits a pause, just long enough to have people second guessing what they're doing, and then they begin to disperse, depriving Zakhar of additional targets.
It's in that lull of chaos, that Ikua smiles, convinced by what he's heard... especially that bit at the end about elimination.
"We have an agreement." He lazily summons one of his henchmen, and begins to record a map of where the stolen supplies are located, Nightfall's secret cache.
Cesare checks charm and seduction at normal. Cesare is successful.
Giorgio nods his head, smiling at the signal from Ikua that they have an agreement secured. He leans forward and says, "I am very interested in what my friend here mentioned regarding making this region of the city better. Naturally I would be interested in helping you oversee this. Your men will help us to retrieve the stolen goods, of course, and then you will come to join my brother and I for breakfast in the morning and we can discuss what will no doubt be a bright future ahead of us, yes?" He drums his fingers atop the table before turning his eyes toward Cesare and Scythia and dipping his head in a grateful fashion for their skill at negotiating.
Martinique is technically from the Oathlands but there's a reason she lives in the Isles now. That whole STAB PEOPLE thing. It's not that Oathlanders never stab, they just have to file forms in triplicate and have debates about it and she's just not that patient really. But anyway, her demeanor is eager as Giorgio strikes a deal with Ikua and details are divulged. Maybe there will get to be some stab.
Zakhar looks back to the crowd as it disperses away from him, shouting at them, "We're just getting started! Come back here!" He watches each of them shake their heads and put their weapons away. There's one that Zakhar is still holding onto by the cuff and he's simply let go with a slight push of his foot. The old man appears to be depressed. The most fun he's had this whole trip and one fucking thumb to show for it. With the pan swung back to its holster on his back he slumps back upon the bar and reaches over to snag a bottle of something. Eyeing the bartender as he does. If the bartender comes after him after this, its ROUND 2! Though as everyone is stepping away, he's looking around to see if he can see why. And completely fails to see Orland on the floor. Thus, time for a drink while he finishes the smoke of haze. He does glance over to the table with a smirk for everyone else, raising the bottle before taking a drink of it to them. Then down the hatch. He gets a look, and spits out the drink. "What the fuck is this shit?"
Mikani sips more of her drink as she watches Kaleo. "Well that depends upon how successful you are. If you find them all intact, I can pay 10K. But if anything is missing ....well I cut my pay in half to 5K." She says softly so others cannot hear. "Though I'm sure that you really want to find those goods for the betterment of the city." She smiles and finishes her rum. Her dark eyes still working to size up the man.
You know what? If Ikua wants to slaughter his enemies, so be it. Cesare would prefer that nobody gets murdered, and everyone works together, but listen, Nightfall didn't exactly impress him either. Fucking Crocodile the bard. What was that instrument anyway? He just smiles, leans in, and puts a hand on Ikua's knee. "I'm sure all of this will come to be a /very/ fruitful partnership." It's a promise - without actually promising anything.
*** Orland has called for an opposing check with Zakhar. ***
Orland checks strength and brawl at easy. Orland is successful.
Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Zakhar is successful.
*** Orland is the winner. ***
Scythia leans back, smiling and letting Giorgio do what Giorgio does. Just looking good while she does it.
Orland staggers up from the floor, holding his nose. It's okay! No one worry about him! NO ONE EVEN NOTICE! It's FINE. He was just an ornament on the floor, bleeding out of his schnoze! He reaches over to Zakhar to tap tap the man on the shoulder..., tap tap, waiting for him to look. The other people were right to run. The Arvani were probably ... most certainly going to continue fighting among themselves! When Zakhar looks... Orland will deliver him a closed fisted punch. Nothing fancy, straight up bar fighting closed-fisted smack!
Poor Kaleo, he really should have been paying attention to Ikua's side of the bar! But Mikani has him quite entranced, haggling over the particulars of the deal, and eventually he does agree to meet her at the cache of stolen goods to make further business deals, before he slips away. His information has the useful benefit of corroborating Ikua's information; if both men said that's where the stuff is, then no doubt, that's where it really is.
Ikua finishes his statement -- which includes the terms as laid out in rudimentary form at this meeting -- and hands one copy to Giorgio, keeping another copy for himself. "As you have said, so it will be done," he agrees, before casting a smile Cesare's way. "Aren't you lovely." The accent makes him sound like someone else you know. Creepy. Weird. Ugh.
Martinique seems to have impressed him; in their way Arakkoans are very warlike people and they recognize this in another. "Perhaps you will come with us later to ....solve our little problem, no?" he invites her on the potential of some exciting violence! Who doesn't love exciting violence?
Zakhar and Orland certainly love exciting violence. They're left to.... y'know.... sort that out, and Ikua stands smoothly to his feet, finally noticing what is happening over there.
There are no doubt interesting times ahead for the Cimmerian district and Tremorus, and relief to those who needed the missing supplies. But it's on the group here, and the pair scrapping it up, that Ikua's focus seems set for the moment.
"To think I thought Arvani were both unhelpful and boring. What a pleasure it is to be proven wrong." He smiles, and departs.
Zakhar is overheard praising Savio.
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