Erastus 23

  How do you dress for a party? Jeans and a tee shirt? Polo shirt and scks? Bck Tie? Halloween costume? Bathing suit? It all depends on the type of party, and the stakes are moderately high for some parties. Wearing a tank top and shorts to show off the guns is great, but not if you were supposed to wear a tux.

  Meeting with a potential enemy is much the same: what is the appropriate amount of protection, and how should it be presented? If you bring too much, you look paranoid and weak. Bring too little, and you’re at the other person’s mercy. Trust, retive power, and the nature of the meeting all tie into the question of what is appropriate.

  With Dahk, my choice had been easy. I knew him, he knew me, and we’d done business once in the past. I already knew he might threaten me, but I also knew that he had a certain sense of decorum and caution. A nebulous threat based around Ethyl’s unknown powers put him in a cooperative mood, and if things had gone very poorly most of his power was wrapped up in swarms of armed guards who probably had shit will saves.

  So, what do I “wear” when I don’t know dick about who I’m meeting? This could be a business meeting, or I could be walking into the assassin’s guild with a price on my head.

  I examined my few clothes, pursing my lips. I didn’t actually have many outfits in my sea chest. A couple old uniforms I’d gotten from Aaron Ivey, the stained shirt and ragged pants I’d arrived to this world in, and not much else. I’d been defaulting to suit pants and a button down shirt, but I felt like I needed a bit more style for the sake of first impressions.

  I need to shop for some formalwear that I could keep in reserve. That’s it. That's what I should have done yesterday when I was bored, damn it. Of course, I don’t have a clue what’s actually fashionable here.

  I settled upon an old chelish naval jacket, left stylishly unbuttoned over a clean, white shirt. The matching scks didn’t really fit me very well, but that’s what the belt is for. At least my magical boots suited the military theme, being immacutely polished bck. I deliberately pulled the shirt slightly out and tousled my hair. I hoped that it would give me a rumpled pyboy look, and it did. After half an hour in front of the mirror in Syl’s room, I nodded to myself.

  Good enough, given the circumstances.

  Choosing my actual clothes helped to establish my branding, which dovetailed nicely into what defenses to bring along. Once again, the tools I had at my disposal dictated the look I went for. I’d already sent Dierdre out to find Syl and Sandara, since the rest of my party were tied up in business or family drama. If “rumpled pyboy” was the look, that meant bringing pretty girls along: the more the better.

  Ethyl would be extremely off-brand, but I wasn’t willing to waste my time with her in my posse. I’d spent two second level spells to summon her, and she’d be with me until midnight. Instead of leaving her behind, I called up someone to serve as a counterbance. A small, adorable lizard girl all but demanded that I call in someone scarier.

  I opened a tiny rift into the Pne of Shadows, reaching out with my will towards the bearer of a specific name. I gripped her loosely, allowing her to break the connection easily if she didn’t wish to heed my summons. She all but grasped the tendril of my will, seemingly eager to be summoned.

  Thank the gods that worked. I still feel awkward calling her off-schedule. It’s still the equivalent of walking into the room and dragging her off by the arm, but at least my grip was loose enough that she could say no easily.

  The summoning circle filled with a pilr of dark smoke, which swirled and thickened. The translucent smoke caught the sunlight from the window to reveal an indistinct humanoid figure, which grew more solid over the course of a few minutes. Eventually, the slender figure of Yael the Shae stabilized, with a series of quick movements following rapidly as she pulled her bone-white clothing from some unknown pce and put it on.

  A long white coat, hip-hugging white pants, and a white corset defined her hazy figure, grounding her and making her seem more real. It was an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of pce on Sandara, other than the total ck of color. Last of all, she donned an engraved mask, which turned to face me.

  https://postimg.cc/V59RR65S

  “Hello, Captain M’Dair.” She intoned in her hollow, echoing voice. “It has been some time, but not so long as I was expecting. Is something amiss?”

  “Sorry!” I said, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I kinda need to put on a show of force, but I can send you back if you need. Hopefully there won’t be any fights, but you can never be sure.”

  “It is of no moment.” Yael said, nodding, “You have given me ample excuse to skirt a most vexing conversation, one which brings me no joy, yet rises like a hydra time and time again.”

  Her voice bounced around, as if she were sliding around the room at high speed. One moment her words were practically whispered into my ear, other times she sounded as if she were calling from the corner of the room. Even the pitch of her voice shifted up and down from a low alto to a high soprano, though it was slow enough that I hardly noticed it most of the time.

  “If you’re up for it, I’m headed to a meeting with a retive unknown.” I expined. “I’m hoping for a quick chat, some information, and maybe an alliance. Worst case scenario, though, it’s essentially a trap. I’m sending Dierdre to scout, so we won’t go if it’s overwhelmingly dangerous. Are you in?”

  “A most intriguing diversion.” Yael answered with a nod. “I must return before the hourgss has turned thrice, as I have promised my attendance at another event. Until then, you have my bde.”

  “Awesome.” I said with a nod, after taking a moment to process. “I propose that you shall accompany and defend me for a period of two and a half hours, after which you shall be returned safely to your pce of origin.”

  Her head cocked to the side.

  “I believe that in your haste, you have forgotten a most key element of our pact.” She said, “The honor of the Shae requires some token of your favor in return for my aid, lest you assume my time and blood to be of no moment. Danger, even potential danger, strays beyond the limits of mere companionable sentiment.”

  “Right…” I said, scratching at the back of my head. “Five gold? It’s only a few hours.”

  “Five now, and ten more should my garb be unduly soiled and need repair.” She decred. “It is new, made to commemorate the events of our first meeting, and precious to me.”

  “Deal, with the caveat that I be given the opportunity to repair it myself if we have time.” I countered.

  “The pact is struck.” Yael said with a nod. “My bde and my magic are yours, till the hour of Accra’s Ga draws close.”

  ??????????

  While Yael and I waited, I briefly considered inviting Caruthers along. He was powerful enough to sp around my shadow, so he’d probably be useful in a fight. It was mostly just an idle thought, however. I didn’t know him well, and bringing someone with the title “Mad Dog” along was one hell of a risky py unless you knew it was going to be a fight right from the start. Pepper wasn’t formally an ally, and she was only a friend by a generous definition, so borrowing her first mate would be a bit strange. To cap it all off, he was a weathered old man: he didn’t contribute to the hot girl posse at all.

  Once Syl and Sandara returned from their recruitment drive, I expined the situation as best I could.

  “I asked Ratts to keep an eye on Plugg, and today he slipped away while his new captain was out.” I expined. “That sounds like something that might be handy to look into, eh?”

  “Unless it’s a trap.” Syl said, deadpan. “Or someone who doesn’t want strange visitors.”

  “As in all things we defer to you, oh Mistress Lonegan.” Sandara agreed sarcastically. “Really though, Captain, are you so curious that we are going to start kicking doors down?”

  I suppressed a shudder from Autopilot at Sandara’s choice of nickname.

  Quiet you. If you panic at the title you’ll never be able to stare the real thing down. Anyways, we might as well start to share. Just a little at a time.

  “I have a good feeling about it.” I said, meeting Syl’s eyes. “The kind I’ve told you about.”

  Sandara’s eyes narrowed.

  “What kind of feeling?” She asked, “your gut does seem to have a pretty good grasp on things, but it sounds like there’s more to it.”

  “I can sense when there’s an opportunity a lot of the time.” I told Sandara. “If I go with the flow when I feel the urge, my magic tends to get stronger soon after. I’ll expin more ter, if you want, but the core of it really is just that. Sometimes I can tell that if I do something specific, I’ll be rewarded. I don’t know if I’ll be rewarded for looking into what Plugg was doing, but I started getting a lot of information once Ratts brought it up.”

  “That sounds like a sign if I’ve ever heard one.” Sandara said with a shrug, “Be careful. Prophecy has been broken for almost a century. Anything going out more than a few hours is likely to fall apart.”

  I knew Sima would be worth saving weeks in advance. I wonder what that means? Then again it was a name and a location. Not exactly detailed information about future events.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” I assured her. “So, are you in?”

  “Sounds dangerous, so I might as well.” Sandara agreed, fshing me her pearly whites. “Beats running around trying to decide which guy staring at my ass is worth bringing along when we set sail.”

  Syl nodded.

  “Is there anything useful you know?” She asked. “Anything at all? I trust you, but I want to know if there’s anything we could act on. Well, for now. I want everything when we have time.”

  “Just a name.” I said, holding my hands up. “Varossa Lanteri. We are supposed to make an alliance with her.”

  “Lanteri?” Sandara said, a distant look in her eyes. “I wonder if she’s reted to old Warvil Lanteri. He used to operate a bit further north, if I recall.” (Knowledge (Nobility) 14+7=21)

  “This is why you share, Emrys.” Syl said with an arched eyebrow. “You get hints. We can build on those. Anything else, Sandara?”

  “Nothing certain.” Sandara said with a shrug. “He hasn’t been all that important for twenty years. As far as I know he’s still alive, but Varossa could be his bastard, his wife… hell, she could be ol’ Warvil himself if he put on the wrong belt.”

  “What.” I asked. “What belt?”

  “Oh yeah, sometimes magic belts end up cursed. Especially the ones that improve your body.” Sandara expined. “Sometimes they make you trade in your Johnson and give you a pair of breasts, or the other way around. Most people don’t like it, and a lot of the time they only have one charge.”

  “Yeah, there’s one hell of a market for them.” Syl chimed in. “No one has managed to make them on purpose, but some people really want them for whatever reason. To the right buyer they are worth more than the belt would have gone for if it worked properly. I’ve heard some artificers specifically have their apprentices mass produce retively cheap magical belts on the off chance it’ll come out cursed.”

  “How scandalous,” Yael chimed in. “Are you telling me that your people have no other ways to reshape their bodies?”

  “Not if they want it permanent.” Syl answered casually. “Or if they want it quick. Fleshcrafting takes forever and can have severe side effects.”

  “Alright, this is honestly kinda interesting, but can we walk and talk?” I asked, “Ratts should get back to the Kestrel at some point and Yael is going to vanish like a magic pumpkin at midnight.”

  “Pumpkin?” Sandara asked. “Why in the Nine Hells would someone enchant a pumpkin?”

  “It’s a literary reference from my people.” I lied. “It was a spell that turned a pumpkin into a vehicle.”

  “Your people that live underground?” Sandara challenged. “Why do underground elves have stories about bzing pumpkins?”

  “Long story.” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’ll need to expin it at some point but now is not the time.”

  ??????????

  Lanteri’s cottage was near Jerry’s, or at least in the same region. I noted Rattline’s great sense of direction for ter. He’d only been here once as far as I knew, but he scurried along the back alleys like he was headed to an old friend’s house.

  “Alright, if this is the spot, you should probably scram.” I suggested. “We don't want your involvement getting back to Plugg, eh?”

  “Sure, fine by me.” Ratts agreed. “I don’t want any trouble. Good luck.”

  The rest of us crowded into a small alley a few streets away while Dierdre cased the joint. Unfortunately, caution didn’t yield anything much.

  “I’m sorry, Milord, but there are no windows to speak of and the chimney is made of iron.” She expined. “One of those stoves, I think. I could perhaps wait until the door is opened to slip in, but I am unable to vanish at this time.”

  “No, too risky.” I said. “If anyone is going in, we are going in all together.”

  Call me paranoid, but I felt far more comfortable sending my shadow to knock while I stood a few feet away, fnked by Syl and Sandara. Yael, tall and imperious, stood behind me. My caution was, perhaps, uncalled for. When the door cracked open, a weapon was not thrust out to threaten the knocker. Instead, a blonde man with a short ponytail and a puffy shirt revealed himself to us.

  I didn’t have any direct ability to tell if he failed his save versus Ethyl’s friendship aura, but he visibly rexed when he id eyes on her.

  “Hello? May I ask who you all are?” He asked. “I think you may have the wrong house.”

  “Is this the home of Varossa Lanteri?” I asked. “We are friends of Sebastien Plugg, and he sent us your way.” Bluff 17+11+5(seductive bangles)+5(Silver Tongue)+5(charmed target wants to believe)=43

  “Oh thank the gods. Come on in.” He said. “I’m Hinson. Heartbreak Hinson.”

  “Why the devil are you letting them-“ a gruff voice yelled from inside, but cut off as Ethyl entered the front door. “Stand around? We’ll need to get some chairs from the back, I guess. You should probably tell the captain we have visitors.”

  As my team filed in, a swarthy bald man opened a water barrel to fill a kettle and started making tea in a small kitchenette. I entered, and my party fanned out to either side of me. Sandara, naturally, hopped onto a table immediately and started to lounge.

  A door at the back of the room opened, and a dark haired Chelish woman stepped into the room. She had a cute, slightly upturned nose, and a tired smile. She raised an eyebrow as she cast her eyes across my party.

  https://postimg.cc/21HmBrnM[u]

  Secret Opposed Bluff Check. Modifiers unknown. [/u]

  Ominous. I’m just going to assume she knows everything, but be coy about it.

  “So, friends of Plugg, eh?” She said, fingering a cutss she had sheathed at her hip, “And ones who know my name at that. It seems you have me at something of a disadvantage.”

  Her eyes darted to her two companions, lips pursed. She isn’t charmed, but can tell by their behavior that Hinson and Baldy are. She doesn’t mind if we know she knows. (Sense Motive 13+1=14)

  Yup. Assume she knows everything.

  “Sorry. My name is Captain Emrys M’Dair.” I said with a bow. “I’ve got a ship, but I haven’t decided on a name.”

  “Ah yes.” Varossa said with a roll of the eyes. “Sebastien told me so much about you.”

  “All good things, I hope.” I said, with a smile.

  She snorted, and everyone in the room except Syl and Yael smiled at the thought.

  “You know Sebastien.” She said. “He has such a strange way of showing his affection. Someone who didn’t know him well might get the impression he hates you with a fiery passion.”

  “Probably the duel.” I suggested. “He seems like a sore loser.”

  “Or that time you sent him to his room for a fortnight.” Sandara chimed in, counting off events on her fingers. “Or when you deflowered Caulky. Or stopped him from turning Jakes into salt pork.”

  As we spoke, Varossa’s eyes darted across my party. She paused for a second on Ethyl before nodding in recognition. Yael was noted and accepted without question, along with Syl and Sandara. Her eyes continued to roam until she found Dierdre, before returning to me.

  “Of course.” Varossa agreed. “So, to what do I owe this honor? I’ve been holed up for a while here, and I don’t often get visitors in such numbers.”

  “Professional curiosity.” I said. “For some reason Sebastien seemed to want to make sure his new captain didn’t meet you. Given our recent parting of ways, I wanted to be sure he wasn’t arranging a surprise party for me. I just hate those.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Varossa assured me. “I never did have a knack for event pnning. My mother was deeply disappointed about that; my family always threw the best parties.”

  “If not that, then what?” Sandara asked. “You seem like a girl with some sense, so I assume it wasn’t a purely social call. Even if you were desperate, you live with two strapping gentlemen.”

  “He should be so lucky.” Varossa agreed, “Besides, I’m recently widowed. Sebastien had offered to assist me with something the st time he was in Goatshead, once he had his own ship. He seems to have mispced it, so he’s useless to me.”

  “Shame how that happens.” I said solemnly. “I, on the other hand, have a ship and an open schedule. Is there any chance I might step into his pce?”

  “If you’d like. I can’t pay you much up front, I’m afraid,” She admitted, “but I can offer you an equal share of the take.”

  “What’s the job?” Sandara asked, “better be good if we are working for free.”

  “Just the treasure of Jemma Redcw.” Varossa said with a smile. “Nothing too exciting, but I figured we could go pick it up, since I happen to know where it is and how to access it.”

  Sandara whistled. (Knowledge Nobility 6+7=13)

  “Sounds like a fun night out on the town.” I agreed. “Leaving it ying out on a beach somewhere is probably bad for the environment.”

  “The Druids are devastated at the sight, I’m sure. Of course, the question is whether or not I can trust you.” Varossa noted. “I only have Plugg’s recommendation to go by.”

  “Come on Captain,” the bald guy asked, “we’ve been stuck here for months. These people seem perfectly trustworthy.”

  “Yes Creed, thank you for reminding me of how trustworthy they are.” Varossa answered, deadpan. “You would know, given your discerning eye and unbiased view on the subject.”

  “You seem to be caught over a barrel.” I added. “If you’ve been here for months, you probably don’t have a lot of options. Take a chance on me and don’t fuck me over, and you won’t regret it.”

  “Aww, no treachery at all?” Varossa sighed. “You do drive a hard bargain, Mister M’Dair. I’ll just have to be content with a giant pile of gold at the end of our time together instead.”