The Coward's Cloak and Boots
Log Info
- Title: The Coward's Cloak and Boots
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Jinks
- Place: A18: Port Alexandria, The Inmost Sea; Outside the Pillar and Caverns Brothel
- Time: Sunday, October 10, 2021, 1:31 PM
- Summary: Jinks exits the Pillar and Cavern and encounters Djusco, who has been waiting for him. The gnome inquires how the half-orc's family it. The young noble scion outlines the latest changes, Priori is in charge, his father seems to be focusing on his legacy and family history, the other brothers are debating leaving and many of the servants have. One servant, Maddy, led the charge and many quit. Djusco goes on to explain that several things were stolen from the family vault, gems mostly, but also two heirloom items. The Coward's Cloak and Boots belonged to a grand-sire who was a spy, dishonourable, and known to teleport out of fights. There's a strong possibility Tran or his Ashwing mistress stole these items, and his room is significantly less secure. Jinks assures the boy he'll get some help, and then wears his shoes out seeing if Tran went on a shopping spree.
-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A18: Port Alexandria, The Inmost Sea *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Sea Walls of Alexandria have been called a Wonder of the World. So has its port. From here, one can see both--the walls, rising either side of the mighty Tornmawr River where it feeds into the Inner Sea, and the Port. A port of international envy, ships fill its waters in plenty, along with the Alexandrian Navy. To the south and all sides, the Inmost Sea stretches. To the North, the Sea Wall, and a great gate which leads to the shining city.
Overhead, flies the flag of the Phoenix. Atop the wall, massive artifice-lights shine out into the waters.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.\ -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Djusco Half-orc Male Youngest, honest, least corrupted. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Morning, the docks.
Out on the pier used by the local fishermen, a white-scaled Sith'Makar can be seen moving from boat to boat. She boards, does a small dance involving restrained acrobatics and some magic, then departs and moves to the next one. In addition to the boat's crew, she has an audience of one, or perhaps two, which she brings with her. The first is a pinkscale youngling of her species or a related one. The second, depending on one's theological beliefs, is Ceinara and always watching her followers, or simply wishful thinking.
That dock is far distant but not out of sight of one of the Pillars & Caverns, a brothel that services the international crews which come in from distant ports. Lingering opposite the door, a half-orc noble scion leans against a wall and flips a token. He glares at passers-by that glance at him too long. He has expensive and fashionable pants, an unbuttoned brocade jacket and a floofy shirt that strains across his well defined chest.
The token admits entry to the P&C, and the teenager keeps flipping it, waiting.
Some are early risers. Others haven't made it to bed quite yet. Jinks numbers among the latter. The gnome's lips glisten with balm, chapped beneath it from a few nights gallivanting about without paying proper respect to Dana's moods. He pushes the heel of one hand roughly into his eyes even as he stifles a yawn, pausing to one side of the street before hopping up and down a few times. A wide-armed stretch and an arch of the back and he continues on, brushing a few fingers past his temple as a lazy salute to Djusco.
"Hey Jinks," Djusco detaches from the wall and falls in step beside the man four times his age and a quarter his weight. He states the obvious, "You look rough."
"Then the illusion is complete." Jinks half-jokes, pulling the collar of his coat back up and tugging it closer to his cheeks. "Feeling restless is much easier on the skin during the summer months," he pauses and looks up and down the street, canting his head at a lamp post, "and in Clockwork Point our mana lamps produce heat to keep the worst of the mountain wind's bite at bay."
"How are things with you, Djusco? With the family?" Talking about the Point always makes him think of family.
"Well, yeah, that's what I wanted to talk about." The young half-orc says, shoving his hands into his jacket and proceeding to not talk about anything for a whole block. He rubs at his nose, practices making a fist. He folds his fingers in tight, pressing the tips to their base, rolling them in and squeezing until the knuckles crack. He examines the profile, ensure it is flat. It's fist to palm a couple times.
Easily an intimidating gesture, it seems more a sign of nervousness now.
"Well, Tran's mother left immediately after he was cut off. Priori's left years ago. Mine was fired by Father for warning him about the Dojo. Month's ago. A bunch of the servants quit." He shrugs.
It must be such a hardship, surrounded by beautiful, marginalized women all the time, "One of 'em, Maddy, went first then a bunch more the next day. The groundskeepers stayed."
"Father is..." He shrugs again.
Jinks steps into the lee of a shop closed for the week's end, its facade sticking out from the row with a framed awning dropped to block the service window. He sighs and closes his eyes, trying to quiet his own unease but short the vices that usually serve as a ready shortcut. "He was an interesting character to begin with. I can't imagine recent... supernatural revelations and the topic of succession have served to mellow him any."
The gnome shakes his head and folds his arms. "You could always just leave the city. Collect whatever wealth you can carry and run. The things happening here..."
"Yeah... I was thinking about that..." Djusco leans a shoulder against the wall, crouching a little so he's closer to Jink's height, giving the smaller man his space. Deference even.
"Just going..." He watches the street, the city waking up.
"Lady's Altay's death really bothered him. Father's wife, his only wife, died in childbirth." The almost empty streets remain fascinating. "She looked like the human girls he hired, except an orc. Tough as nails, she fought with him, then loses the fight with her baby and the baby."
"He went to give condolences, felt responsible, his party." The young half-orc looks back at Jinks, "Doesn't blame you guys, you were trying to chase off that fiend that attached itself to Lady Altay. Came back..."
Another shrug, "Altay seems hell bent on getting adventurers punished, didn't really care his wife was dead, to hear Father say. It kinda messed him up."
"I don't know what to do, Djusco. I thought I did; I had ideas, at least." Jinks uncrosses his arms, shifts on his feet, puts his hands into his pockets, and shakes them out to cross his arms again. He pauses, brow furrowing, and tilts his head at the half-oruch. "What fiend attached to Lady Altay? The handmaiden? And what do you mean 'came back?'"
"Came back? Oh, I meant Father, went to visit Altay and came back ... unhappy. The handmaiden hasn't re-appeared." Djusco says, putting his hands in his pockets again, then taking them out to cross his arms.
"Priori is the man of the house now. Father stays in his study, drinks and reads the family history." He leans, back to the wall, "People come to see Priori, the deals, financials. He wants us gone. Offered to give out inheritance early."
"Makes sense I guess, give us a cut at the current value. If he grows it, he keeps it. If he messes up, he can always hit us up for cash, save the family home. If we go off adventuring and die, he inherits it back as next of kin. A win for us all."
Djusco doesn't sound like he's winning, "So he opens the family vault, and stuff is missing."
"We should see Tran's room," Jinks decides after a long, quiet moment just looking down at the street. "See what clues we can find there. Maybe have a look around the main grounds, too. Look into the vault... maybe Tran is a distraction and Priori is the real play." He pauses, stifling a mighty yawn as his eyes squint shut. His lip splits and begins to bleed. "But not just me and you. And I'm not going near Altay or his lands. Or the Duke. They can have whatever grand mischief they want going after the guild and this Iron Book. It's well beyond my pay rate."
"Yeah," Djusco agrees, "I mean, brothers bully, but it got real. Miska and Fezel are seeing it too. We're safer if we're far away and they forget about us."
"I told the servants to lock Tran's room and leave it alone. They did, except I don't know what good that will do."
The young half-orc draws a box in the air with his hands, "The vault was dusty, hadn't been opened in years. Heirlooms. Priori does, and someone has been inside. The Coward's Boots and Cape are missing, and two hundred thousand in gold."
"Keep... y'know, that part tight." Djusco cautions, "we aren't cleaned out but that's a chunk. Weakens Priori's dealmaking. Anyhow, Ariavine got in, I guess, Tran must have told her. If she can teleport into that, a lock on a door isn't going to stop her."
"Full confidence." Jinks nods slowly, trying to sort through the pieces from the unstable landing at the end of a long bender. He almost certainly needs sleep. Maybe he'll even surrender to that necessity soon. "What are the Coward's Boots and Cape? Enchanted Sildanyari items?"
"Yeah." Djusco nods, "least a ways, I think that's who he got them from. Not everyone in the family tree was a fiend fighter. A grandsire or more back, there was one, an infiltrator, a spy. Gets into places, steals stuff, assassinations."
The young half-orc shrugs, "wouldn't stand and fight, sneaks and vanishes. Got titled 'The Coward'. They're magic and they are heirlooms, but not very honourable, y'know."
"Tran either took them to have an escape, or to sell. Also missing is mostly gems, easy to grab." Hands go back into pockets and flap the jacket around from within, "he's either buying favours and access, or gear to be tougher."
"Father suggested that. That 'you're always popular until the money and parties run out'. So maybe Tran is stepping up that way." He stares at cobbles.
Two hundred thousand would buy a lot of gear. It would also be noticeable if spent all at once. There are only a few magic item purveyors who could supply that.
Jinks sighs again and nods once. "Alright, Djusco. Give me the day. I'll come by tonight after suppertime to have a look at Tran's room... bring a few folks along." He's saying it aloud as much to work up the steam to follow through as he is to give the oruch-blooded pugilist the heads-up. "Should we come through the front or would things with Priori be easier if we came in through the servant's entrance?"
The gnome drags a hand down his face, the soft gloves still irritating the burns on his cheek. Making him wince.
"Well, front gate to get. If you go to the main house servant's entrance would be good." Djusco laughs, making a womanly shape in the air with his hands, "Careful with brining hot pieces of ass, he might show thinking they're there for job interviews."
He laughs raucously. He is an orc. Half. The thought he might be disparaging the gnome's friends crosses his mind. "Uh, yeah, sorry. Didn't mean it that way, but your friends are attractively dangerous. Priori did keep on about the Mul'niessa that beat him up."
"I'll hang out on the dorm-school steps, having a smoke and drink and watch for you. That might be safer." He suggests.
"She won't be coming," Jinks responds flatly when Djusco describes Aya before amending; "I hope she won't be coming... Mulria's sideways smile." He frowns, finally tasting the blood mingling with the balm on his lips. He takes a handkerchief to it, dabbing lightly and inspect the results as he steps out from the windbreak, nods to the half-oruch, and heads north.
The gnome suddenly feels the leadenness in his frame as he again sets about the practical work of chasing down Maugrim's abyssal hordes. He had every excuse to put it off; to find a warm bed somewhere and sleep. Others had even asked him to slow down and give himself a break. He'd be the good friend to listen. Not the bastard coward running away from yet another promise.
He hadn't seen Lysos since she had to go to Altay's manse alone.
The warehouse district was the closest, then the lower markets. He speaks the language here; the dwarven tongue, gobber speak, hand cant... even Kulthian for those dark alleyway shops of questionable artifice.
Eyelids heavier, he naps on a carriage ride across the bridge. Seeming to get there no sooner than he'd sat down and tucked his chin. He pauses a moment and finds his reflection in a fountain as he produces a small selection of makeup to mollify the damage wrought by the elements to his face, to lessen the dark rings around his black eyes. Then it's the noble's quarter and their higher end shops. Finally, Sage Orum's Plaza where he has a familiar witch to visit and others he's done business with in the past.
Successful or not, he all but crawls back to Tarien's house by midday. A twisting band of gold set with twinned gems of amber and emerald-- winnings from a game of chance the night before-- are offered to the luckbringers as obeisance before he finds a little closet with a couch to collapse into.
==OOC-
<OOC> Jinks says, "But Jinks can definitely try and see if Tran has gone on a spending spree before crashing. Can do a Diplo for Gather Info if that works."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Sure, hmmm! If you make your endpose a really streetponding sort you can +roll/take20 diplomacy"
<OOC> Jinks says, "taking 20 on a Diplo nets me a 31."