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(Archive) Connections

Tags: Bernar (Ban),  Celys (Linnea),  Saereda

Short Summary: Ban needs something from Saereda, and gets something from Linnea. It's all about who you know in the Fishtale.
Date (real-life): 2013-01-24
Scene Location: Esgaroth: Fishtale Inn
Date (in-game): January 3058
Time of Day: Night

The Fishtale Inn(#21641R)

All along the walls of this delapidated Fishtale Inn there remains only the faded, smoke stained, and peeling suggestion of someone's poor impression of fantastical monsters of the sea -- this is sadly indicative of the whole place. The bar, the Inn's heart, bears a large and spreading split along half its length, and the very walls seem barely able to support the weight of the place.

The tables are all blackened, and sticky with indeterminable substances, and they look for all the world like jacks cast down by forgetful Giant children since there isn't any apparent order to their placing. The kegs and casks are in a similar state, though some of the bottles seem more recent acquisitions.

This is truly the kind of place that attracts those of ill repute; those who do not care about atmosphere so long as the drink is cheap and plentiful and the barkeep does not ask too many questions. . .



The light may be gone from the sky, but it isn't quite completely covered up by grime in here. The lanterns that let anyone see anything at all may be stained by spills (how'd they get up there?), but they still emit a flickering illumination by which others can see each other. Barely. But then, that's the point of the Fishtale, isn't it?

Sitting at one of the tables receiving more light than the rest is a thin man in a remarkably clean and well-repaired Underdecks wear. With the elaborately carved and polished walking stick he has leaning against his chair, however, his identity is not secret to anyone who's met him or seen him in the more prosperous districts.

Ban Rhinvan flips two coins onto the table from a purse kept hidden under his tunic. Two rough-looking fellows - unwashed, with cudgels lying openly on the table - sit with him. The shorter rises with the two coins and a grin revealing a few missing teeth to head over to the bar. Ban's drink is untouched; the other two's are empty.

[Celys(#13888)] Enter Linnea, pawnbroker extraordinaire, accompanied by an urchin. She makes her way confidently to the bar (she does everything confidently, which is why she must be either mad or brilliant) and demands that the barkeep provide all the stew that this fellow desires. "I'll hear if you does wrong by my lads," she says cheerfully--most likely in jest, but it can be hard to tell in these parts. Then she leans against the bar and surveys the crowd with that predatory smirk of hers gleaming brightly. "Tonight," she announces as she receives an ale she did not ask for, "is a good night."


Part of the usual crowd in the Fishtale is a darkly cloaked woman who normally occupies a table near the back. She has been there for some time now already this evening, and throughout the past few hours many have come up and spoken with her, their conversations kept low so as not to be heard. On occasion, money has exchanged hands, the soft clink of a deal being struck or coming to fruition.

Saereda Conwy is known by most down here simply as 'Birdie's Girl' since, according to the rumors on the street, that's who she really works for. As another leaves her table, she looks up, fingers steepling as her eyes flicker across the room noting tables and the bar.


Ban stands up from his seat. The taller fellow sitting with him looks up at him, and the moneylender shakes his head. He stays seated, and is still there when his shorter, rounder companion returns from the bar. They clink their mugs together and start another round.

Ban himself grabs his walking stick in his black-gloved right hand and heads towards the back. Whether by prearrangement or by luck, he is staring right at Saereda with a small smile. He moves to her table, and lowers his walking stick to the ground with a clunk and lean on it slightly. "Mistress Conwy. May I join you?

[Celys(#13888)] Linnea beams as Ban makes his way towards the back, and does not bother to ask before sitting down. "Cor, it's a mighty nice table you got here, miss," she says. "Seems a fine place for a hard-workin' entrepreprepreneur like such as myself to put her boots up, like. Have a nice friendly chat." She takes a drink of her ale. "Don't like hoverin' about my urchins while they're eatin', you understand."


Tipping her head slightly, Saereda's lips part in a slow grin, and she gestures to the seat across from her with a flick of her fingertips, "Master Rhinvan and Mistress Linnea. The pleasure would be all mine for you to join me."

A warm chuckle slips past her lips as she leans back in her chair, "Ale or boots or other such things... this table has seen much. I hope it can withstand many more rounds." Dark brows lifting as she turns towards Linena, "Watching others eat is never particuarly entertaining... even if you actually enjoy their presence."


With a friendly nod to Linnea, Ban pulls out one of the chairs and settles into it. He stretches his back out, and it pops audibly before he resumes a more natural seated pose. His walking stick, he still holds to the ground in his right hand - though he no longer leans against it.

"Linnea, is it? Good to meet you. I'm Ban. And sometimes watching them drink is no better," he agrees. His eyes move to Saereda, not excluding Linnea, but directing his words to Birdy's Girl: "I need a little help meeting someone you've helped me find before. And I'm willing to pay a little finder's fee for the trouble." He raises his eyebrows. "If you know who I mean." He looks down at the table, realizes he didn't bring his drink, and instead rests his left hand on his lap.

[Celys(#13888)] "That's me! Proprietor of Linnea's Pawnshop, employer of many fine urchins. An urchin for every occasion, my ma always said. Or she might have done, I never met her." Linnea leans back. "Might be I has some news for yer," she says with a smug grin.


Clasping her hands atop the table Saereda listens quietly to Ban's words, her blue eyes flicking to Linnea for a moment, and then back to Ban. Giving the money lender a single bob of her head, "Chances are, either myself or another in Birdie's employ can help you find the person you're looking for. I'll likely need a little information on whom and whether you wanta meeting arranged.. or just information on where you might find them to tell you how much of a finder's fee that the job requires, but it can almost certainly be done."

Chuckling as she turns to nod at Linnea, "I hadn't realized you'd not been introduced to Mistress Linnea, Ban. She does have many excellent urchins, and excellent service for a variety of diverse needs you might have."


The moneylender nods slowly. He pulls a scrap of parchment from within his coat and slides it across the table to Saereda. Whatever is written on it isn't clear, as the side facing up is blank.

As blank as Ban's face, as he makes a face so uninterested - eyes unfocused and turned up, lips pursed, forehead smooth - that he must be listening closely to every word.

[Celys(#13888)] "Aye, well, I comes and goes." Linnea takes an idle drink. "Very useful, my urchins. Make regular deliveries, like, to certain fellows what owns lots of property in the Decks, if you follow me. Clever lads, too, and curious. My lad today done me a good turn by stickin' around and listenin'."


Fingers pinning the bit of paper to the table, Saereda slides it the rest of the way towards her, pulling it off the edge of the table and into her lap. Careful fingers flip it over once it's beyond easy sight, and looking down at it for but a moment, she merely makes a soft noise as she presses her lips together.

The soft sound of paper and cloth follows before her hands rise again to rest atop the table, the bit of paper likely tucked away in her skirts or cloak by now. "We can help you with this one. Do you want a meeting arranged - or just to know his current whereabouts, Ban?"

Rapping her knuckles lightly agaisnt the table she glances towards Linnea, "On a note of somewhat related inquiry... are any of your merchants skilled in driving horse carts?"


"A meeting," Ban pipes up immediately, ending his who-what-me-listen routine by abruptly meeting Saereda's gaze. "One he knows is coming. Don't want him touchy. Even if he doesn't remember," the moneylender adds, "his brother will."

He looks at Linnea more closely. "I don't have any need for small folk; but are any of them good-sized? Closer to manhood? There's always a call for strong arms." He glances between the urchin-monger and the merchant, then says, "And then I will remove myself, for your privacy." He salutes by raising his walking stick's tip to his forehead.

[Celys(#13888)] "I knows a teamster or two. For a token I could have the lad send for one. I reckon he's about done eating." Linnea jerks her head towards the urchin at the bar. To Ban, she says, "I gots a few strong lads what needs honest work, sure. Always happy to send 'em off to a good honest job." Then she shrugs, and says, casually, "One o' the old upright men is dyin', by the by. Thought he could keep it a secret, hah. Gonna be a right storm when he snuffs it."


"Well, I haven't a need of one this instant, but tomorrow, say at just a bit past noon, I could use a few extra teamsters with a persuasion for keeping their mouth's sealed down by the docks." Saereda gives Linnea a wink as she chuckles, "I have a load coming in, and not quite enough hands hired to get things arranged as quickly as I would like. The woes of business growth, I suppose."

"Ahh, a meeting. That could take a little more time, but, yes, consider it done. I'll speak with Birdie first thing on the morrow, and set things in motion for you. Once things are readied, we'll expect payment before disclosing the location for the meeting." Unclasping her hands and holding her hands out palm up on either side, the thing merchant adds, "If that seems fair to you?"


Half out of his chair, Ban immediately drops right back into it. "Who's dying?" he asks. Saereda's words finally penetrate, and he nods distractedly. "That's fine. And then I will leave the table to you," he repeats, "but I want to know if somebody important's kicking the bucket, first." He half-smiles. "Call it morbid curiosity."

[Celys(#13888)] "They'll be there," says Linnea, her accent momentarily slipping. Then she shrugs. "Jus' some bloke what has been in the business for a long time. Dyin' an' without an obvious heir, on account of there's half a dozen coves what thinks it oughtta be them." She smiles brightly. "Down Black Alley way. Might be a good chance to expand, if I don't tell anyone else about it."


"Excellent." Saereda responds with a half shadowed grin for Linnea. Fingertips touching each other, she taps them against her lips as her eyes flick between Ban and Linnea, a certain wry amusement shining there. "Always a shame when something like that happens. Doesn't matter what the old ones say... if they don't pass it on before they die, it goes to whoever is strongest, really."


Ban's right hand rises to rub at his chin thoughtfully. After a moment, he says, "No. Not for me. I'm not owed anything by anyone above the age of-" He pauses, then continues "-but maybe one of the proud scions," he says, interrupting himself as a predatory gleam enters his eyes. "That *is* good to know. I might have an interest in who gets that inheritance. and I would appreciate you not telling anyone - other than Mistress Conwy," he gives a polite nod to Saereda, "of it."

He reaches into his coat - it's not clear how far, and his hand emerges with a coin in the palm. It's only visible for a moment, but it glints with silver in their corner of the Fishtale before he sets it on the table. He half-uncovers it with his hand, in Linnea's direction. 'Sufficient for silence?" he inquires.

[Celys(#13888)] "Aye, that'll about do," says Linnea brightly. "Throw a bit of gold in an' I'll have the lads help you pick an heir. Ain't no one better for a bit o' casual ess-pee-oh-naj than my urchins. I only picks the best."


"Fortuntely for you, Ban, my mouth isn't particularily loose." Grinning at him for but a moment, Saereda leans back in her chair, hands falling into her lap as she chuckles at Linnea's words, "Best urchins in town, as always. You can find me later, Ban, if an heir needs a gentle push in a particular direction to seal things up for you."


Once again, Ban caresses his chin. "No," he decides, "Silence is enough." He shrugs. "He doesn't owe me *that* much." He pushes the coin - still concealed by his hand - over the edge of the table that Linnea is sitting at. Then he rises, gives a nod, and says, "Good to see you, Mistress Conwy. And very glad to have made your acquaintance, Miss Linnea." The man of courtly manners in a den of thieves makes his way back to his former table. Slipping a coin of smaller denomination on the table, he says a few quiet words to the men there - the tall one nods - and then he is off towards the door.

[Celys(#13888)] "Stop by the shop if you decides to change your mind," says Linnea. She raises her glass in farewell, then takes a sip--and at some point the coin that was pushed towards her disappears, though it's hard to say when she managed to grab it. To Saereda, she says, enigmatically, "Going to be an interesting couple of weeks, I think."


Watching Ban's departure with a mild sort of interest, Saereda turns back towards Linnea with a snicker, "Aye, but those are the best sort of weeks. They keep things from getting boring - and hopefully at the end, you're a few coins richer than the start, eh?"

[Celys(#13888)] "Aye, as a humble and legitimate businesswoman what is just trying to get by, that is all I can ask for," says Linnea. "'course, when a week ain't interestin' I usually /makes/ it interestin', but of course that is not what happened here." She rises. "All right, urchin's had enough. Oy! Lad! We gots goods to move before the day is up!" Then she offers an elaborate mock-curtsey. "Till we meet again, kind lady."


"One must do what one must do." Lips curling upwards at the though of making things interesting, Saereda chuckles, bobbing her own head in farewell to Linnea, "Until then."

[Celys(#13888)] The urchin gets up from his eat-as-much-stew-as-you-can-before-Linnea-gets-bored fest and hurries over to Linnea's side. "I thought we was waitin' til t'morrow?"

"Plans change, me lad," she says. "Step lively, my lad." And with that they make their way out of the tavern, looking rather lively for people with an evening of work ahead of them.

Date added: 2014-11-28 10:06:24    Hits: 64
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