She's The Gal For Me Boys (Pulren)

by **Zandelia** on October 2nd, 2014, 1:33 am

35th Fall, 515 AV - The Fish Bowl

She was a spy by trade, a sifter and connection sniffer. She had helped many rise and caused not a few to fall, yet she had always done so through simpler means. She had realized recently that she was better than that, she was potentially the best at her trade in the city – the so far missing Killjoy not withstanding. She had certain standards to maintain and she had been given the idea by that old Sun's Birth worker all those years ago. She had just taken longer to act upon it than was reasonable. She hid I plain sight, a commodity for enjoyment that meant she was trying to develop a glamour that outshone her trade – a singer and general entertainer. That was the new role of Web and she revelled within it's sphere. It was a new persona addition but she was warming to it as quickly as she could bear. It was an interesting creation really, though when she mused upon it in her quieter moments it made sense to her.

Better to be remembered for the antics, not the genesis. Few seem to assume a poor singer can be worth more than the silver showered upon them, silver I might add goes to Manowar...for my own purposes. Merv will be sad, but needs must she mused to herself as she drained the last of her ale and made her way to the center of activity once more. She began her truly awful yet encouraging singing.

Sally Brown, she's the gal for me boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Sally Brown she's the gal for me, boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

It's down to Zeltiva to see Sally Brown boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Down to Zeltiva to see Sally Brown boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

She's lovely on the foreyard, an' she's lovely down below boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
She's lovely 'cause she loves me, that's all I want to know boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Ol' Captain Baker, how do you store yer cargo
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Some I stow for'ward, boys, an' some I stow aft'ward
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Fourty fathoms or more below boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
There's fourty fathoms or more below boys.
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Oh, way high ya, an' up she rises
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Way high ya, and the blocks is different sizes
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Oh, one more pull, don't ya hear the mate a-bawlin?
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Oh, one more pull, that's the end of all the hawlin'
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Sally Brown she's the gal for me boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Sally Brown she's the gal for me, boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

It was delivered with the usual gusto and the attempts to get people involved in the drunkenness but in truth she was just passing the time. She and everyone knew she was far from amazing in her poor attempts at singing though still a handful joined in and thus projected the atmosphere she had been hoping for. She relied, for the most part, upon the inebriation of others. It wasn't an actual job per se, more a congenial tip of the hat to Manowar. She wanted to be on his good side and so far she was more a boon than a hindrance and that bade well for her. The future would tell the true outcomes but she could not concern herself with that. The songs were mostly repeated ditties she had bought rounds to learn just to endear herself to the patrons of mild appreciation.

In truth she was on the lookout for anyone whom might have answered the call she had set in motion. A missive here, a whispered word there, many ways within which to gain hired hands for what she required. They wouldn't know what of course, just that they had been told it was fortuitous to take a drink of wine to the corner table near the bar if they wanted to pursue opportunity. A nice gambit that allowed her to decide before even meeting people whether she wanted to use them for her ploys. At the very least it proved that they were capable of putting their fingers upon the pulse of information in Sunberth – a good skill to start with.

Thus she waited and occupied herself, awaiting opportunity.

by **Pulren Marsh** on October 3rd, 2014, 8:29 am

The night found Pulren outside what was becoming a regular meeting and gathering place for him. It was probably its similarity to the docks of Zeltiva, though the clientele made the Kelp Bar look like it should have landed on West Street. He was well dressed and groomed, wearing his high boots, belt and pants of dyed black leather and a black linen shirt. He had brought only his kukri in it scabbard, seated firmly on his hip. He had no clue of how to use it, making it another ornament, but it was one that was a necessity in the streets of Sunberth. A healthy sack of golden mizas had also come with him, though he was never foolish enough to bring more than necessary to a known hangout of cutthroats and bandits. Twenty weighed the sack down, more than he had ever dared bring along at night.

This was no ordinary night, however. The winds of whispers that moved through Sunberth, like the tidal passing of Mathews Bay, brought the news of opportunity to those who would hear them. A food shortage had brought riot and frustration to the people of Sunberth, though Pulren was well acquainted with both conditions as famine was always on the horizon in Zeltiva. He was getting along with his fishing and with his mizas, paying higher prices for food than necessary to remain healthy and strong. The mizas were not an endless, stream, however. If he was to continue to play at being Palaren Marshall, nobleman of Zeltiva, then opportunities like the ones whispered would have to be minded and followed up.

These whispers had offered that entering the Fish on this night and taking a drink of wine to the corner table would provide entrance to whatever lied on the other side of the voices. In Sunberth, it could well be a trap laid for those who sought trouble, even when they didn't realize it. Pulren would have been wary. Palaren, however, was much too confident to worry himself with such trifle. Striding in with his head held high, he made a visual sweep of the main room. Eyes were set on him, as usual, with his style of dress so out of place. Moreover, his weight on his hip brought the side glances that would normally ignore him. He was no doubt being sized up by all sorts of people. Stepping up to the main bar, he listened and watched as a one eyed lass sang songs that brought more reminiscence of Zeltiva. He listened to it all the way through, hearing it as clearly as it would be sung at the Kelp Bar.

Once it was finished, he nodded to the lady and turned his attention to the barkeep. "A fine performance, there. Wine, please." He looked back briefly as she had finished her song, his grin souring slightly at the pitcher of swill put before him. The girl there told him it would be two mizas, but Palaren scoffed slightly. "No, no. A bottle of your best. Take this away." He made sure to look down the bar without looking straight at anyone. When a bottle returned, the slight dust on it told Pulren that these sorts of things didn't come up often, at least on the main floor. "And this?", he said, fingering his sack of stones as he handled the bottle. "Ten gold." She said it with the sort of disdain that Pulren would expect and apologize for. Palaren simply counted them out to her and pushed them across, a greater attempt at disgust plastered on his face.

"Two cups, as well. Spit free, if you don't mind." After inspecting the two and finding them satisfactory, Pulren turned on his heel, the bottle in one hand and the two cups in the fingers of the other. The corner table was evident as it was strangely empty in an otherwise busy bar. A seat taken, the bottle uncorked, Pulren had a sniff of it. Smelled better than anything passed as wine in the Grotto. Of course, they probably had better, but as a Wave Guard, dipping into the stocks of the establishments was frowned upon. Pouring himself a healthy portion, he sat the bottle on the table next to the empty cup, waiting for its owner.

Ledger :

by **Zandelia** on October 8th, 2014, 1:06 am

The arrival was discernible from the very moment he stepped across the threshold, different from the rest of the rabble in the simple virtue that he seemed to care for personal grooming. Few took such care of their appearances in Sunberth, it was ultimately pointless given that they could be covered in shkye or dead within the day. She smiled around her pipe, breaking from the act of vocalist jester for now, and noted that despite his best efforts he still seemed to possess a somewhat scruffy appearance. Not through lack of effort no doubt, some just had hair that didn’t obey whatever was done to it – she forgave him the curse of his bloodlines. She had been daughter to a maniac, she could hardly complain.

Interesting though, by the look of it he has chosen a decent vintage and decent cups to drink from too, thoughtful lad. Trying to impress or possessed of some choice shreds of dignity? Foreign most certainly, not your usual stock of the city. Sailor, maybe? Got the arms and shoulders for it to be sure…interesting she mused between slow, smoke-filled breaths, watching him sit in the apportioned seat.

She debated whether to approach directly or act through a proxy, she was not wearing her armour this night, a few weapons dotted about her person but hardly an arsenal. Changing her persona had required a changing of garb to match, the black leather giving way to softer fabrics. The skin-tight shell replaced with skirt, blouse and vest – tight enough still to be sure but not as restrictive she had to admit. Gloves, leggings and boots completed the ensemble – a silver necklace around her neck. She had chosen something with a dash of flair, an eccentric twist to it with the lace and colouring. It kept the attention of others either upon the clothing of what was beneath it when she bent over – away from the face. It served its purpose well enough. She wondered if she would even be seen for what she was, perhaps mistaken for a strumpet. She grinned then and put her pipe away, finishing her stale ale quickly and tapping the cup upon the bar to have it taken away.

A test then, a small one is in order. Can’t just involve everyone in my workings now, not at all… she told herself as she ruffled her hair out to make it slightly more voluminous, sweeping perhaps.

“What’s a fine young man doing in the Bowl now?” she asked as she approached him, deliberately ignoring the wine and opposite seat for no, tracing fingers across the table top delicately, a hand upon his shoulder as she came to stand beside him other hand upon hip, “well turned out too, not like this lot…no” she almost purred as a soft smile teased at her lips.

“Gotcha self a girl already? Yes…no?” she drew out the last word slightly, as if considering, “looking for one? Best bit of cheek in the docks. These boys don’t know how to treat me, local lads – fine sailors but piss poor lovers. Could look good ‘pon yer arm. Make the other lads jealous but you look strong enough to keep ‘em at bay”

“Oi lass, who you calling pi”

“You didn’t even make that whore ya bought scream and youse paid her to do it Vald, leave the romance to them as know how to judge. Go back to drinking. See what I mean? Can’t even talk to me right” she chuckled then, leaning into the table slightly.

“What’s yer name sailor boy? Should tell a girl a name” she sat upon the table, legs crossed at the knee as she could be forgiven for almost laughing as she batted her eyelashes at him ever so slightly.

It was a crude advance, to match the surroundings. Too high brow would stick out and the game would be up altogether too quickly, she wanted to see what he could see pat. What he wanted, was he easily manipulated. Could he be used or not? Such things took time to truly understand and appreciate, took various scenario’s to look through. The lenses she used were more disingenuous than most, but then that was her world in a nutshell – disingenuous. He was faced with a well bodied – if facially scarred – potential laying. Would he give up the chase for such a simple thing?

by **Pulren Marsh** on October 11th, 2014, 1:35 am

It wasn't long before he was joined by company, though he wasn't so sure it was the company he sought. She was striking, to be sure, though maybe a little long in the tooth to be dressing herself like a young flower. Still, her walk and talk was that of someone who enjoyed attention and was accustomed to getting it. Pulren could surely indulge her while he waited.

As she asked her question, the idea to share a cup of drink couldn't be offered as she made her way right next to him. She was next to him in an instant, the smile on his face hiding the clear realization of how quickly she came into striking distance of him, should his first instincts of a trap ring true. He could only rest his hand on his though, hoping he could pull the kukri in time should that be the case. Otherwise, it was just listening to her talk and sell her wares. He must have clearly put on his own good show to have her put her extra good show on for him. He probably did smell of gold.

"I'm glad you can appreciate the finer things in life, my dear. Your renditions of those songs wasn't half bad, either. A looker and a singer, a double edged blade. I'm surprised my mizas haven't leaped from my sack as it were." Since she was so happy to offer her wares, he was equally happy to inspect them. "You certainly don't smell like the coppers or silvers. How is it that such a prime piece works the common floor here and not upstairs? Maybe a teaser of better things to come?" His attention moved from her goods to the room around him. Maybe she was a scout for the real guest, if she wasn't simply a distraction.

"Name's Palaren Marshall. My friends call me Uncle. Maybe after I tend to my business, you and I can be friends."

by **Zandelia** on October 12th, 2014, 11:26 pm

“A charmer too, and a decent liar. A liar knows a liar, it was sung poorly. Then again no one else sings so people like it all the same…distractions, distractions no?” she continued as she smiled at his response.

He was clearly one to spend time with women, to cultivate certain parts of them for his own pleasurable activities. It took a few ticks to see that, the way his eyes roamed and most certainly sought out the curves he was used to amusing himself with. She was far from offended, she found herself more amused – pleasantly so. He knew how to talk and that was all to the good, he knew how to address to attract attention and thus, presumably, how to do so to become unobtrusive. The two often went together quite neatly for those in her line of working. He had sought her out an was following the instructions, despite the present presumed block to his aim. Yet he was alert too, looking past her for any other signs. She could see his mind turning it over, thinking – a rare gift indeed these days.

Does he wonder if it is a test? If so then good, but his hand might be on that weapon doesn’t mean he’d so far have had the chance to use it she told herself as she took in the name also – Fallon’s rescuer. She owed him a debt and he didn’t even know so. Interesting.

“Uncle? You get all the girls to call you that? Very...compelling. As for why…I don’t come just to be bedded like the dogs upstairs. I’m more…feline, I do as I please” she stepped lightly, gracefully, around him so that now her left arm was around his shoulders, her right hand reaching for the dagger in her boot ever so slowly, pulling it out gently, “and they are fickle too. Soon as scratch you as rub up against you. But…you didn’t tell me why you were here Uncle” she purred as she continued her circling.

“Shall I guess?” she sat down upon his knee then, her face a mask of interest and curiosity as she tapped the wine bottle with the nail so that it made that unique glinging noise, “you know…come to think of it you see a lot up o that there stage. Or a table, or a man’s lap. Wherever the show can be most engaging. You’re the sixth to buy wine and sit there, no one ever approached. Funny eh?”

She watched him carefully as she awaited his response, trying to discern his reactions. Was he flustered? Did he reassess and try to assert some dominance over the situation? Did he consider quitting? Was he reactive or proactive? Did he see through the rapidly escalating ruse – purposefully pushed further to give him something to consider. And, most importantly, what his motivation was. What did he hope to achieve by contacting her? She picked up the bottle and poured out the cups, a sign of friendly nature to follow the presentation of the weaponry. Small things, that was how trust and trade were built up. Everyone always talked of the big deals, the game changers. Yet they did so forgetting they were talked about because they were special – unique. The rest of history was filled with trivial acts that, in time, led to larger events.

“Oh! I know,” she leant to whisper into his ear, lips touching the lobe at times, “you seek out Web. So I presume you know their reputation. What makes you believe that you can go beyond engaging their interest and reach the next level – working with and for them?” she asked, direct questions and to the point. More to the point she had pulled a dagger from her boot as she had been busy pressing into his lap, crossing her legs, and had it pointed at his ribs.

“Ah ah, no pulling a dagger now. Convenient, isn’t it, how sitting against someone’s chest makes it difficult to draw a weapon? Shall we have that drink now? Or are you more mouse than man? The others were so I ant blame you. Consider yourself a victim of the honey trap, simple but effective. So…why should the spider want to do business with you?”

People underestimated how a direct series of questions could sometimes disarm people enough, ready for shadowy word games surprised at such a tactic they told you what you wanted to know. She would know what his desires were before she told him any of her plans.

by **Pulren Marsh** on October 13th, 2014, 9:01 am

Pulren clearly enjoyed the company of the woman, more so with her way of charm and wit. If it was her aim to befriend him, he was ready for the pact. If her aim was to seduce him, he could be called on. With the intimacy enhanced, Pulren could see that the lass was missing an eye. Her singular eye was so engaging and striking that one could nearly forget that she was born with two. He wondered if that wasn't why she didn't play up her mental and physical assets in order to gain the wages she clearly deserved.

Her analogy of being a cat rather than a dog was charming. Pulren smirked and became the audience that she craved, his eyebrows rising as he listened to her and enjoyed her partial embrace as she circled him and eventually mounted his knee. Again, they were close and he was enjoying her company greatly. He still hoped that she wasn't just a distraction for the one he was searching for. His eyes quickly found their mark back at her lips once the nail tapped the wine and her comments tapped his attention. She could certainly talk, this one and now she mentioned that many had sat where he did to no avail as she watched from the stage. "Pale imitations.", he mused to himself, though it was audible to her alone as she sat so close to him.

Before he knew it, she was even closer, her hot breath against his ear and whispers of webs in his ear. A smile grew across Pulren's lips as it appeared that she was either an agent of the source of rumor or the source itself. His attention had brought the attention of the one others had failed to grasp. This stroked his ego slowly and sufficiently. Then, as if his excitement could be contained previous, a dagger's fine point poked beneath his ribs, his eyes passing down to it as her lap pressed into his. He found himself in a new and strange place. Perhaps it was the terrors of the Wizards or some other traumatic stress in his life, but at once, Pulren found that the immediacy of mortal peril excited him greatly.

His breaths quickened, though they were not the rapid drawings of panic, but that of a young man in the presence of stark, naked beauty. Dira was intoxicating in Her presence. Web might well find his own weapon pressed against her legs through her skirt as a fine beading of sweat traced his upper lip. His hand caressed her knee under her skirt as he kissed her neck beneath her own lobe. It was an instinctual action as well as one of cover.

Whispering, he did his best to answer. He was finding Palaren to be someone he might rather be than Pulren. He would be anyone right now. "Life's fragile and it's also a game. I'm a player and I like to play. Money, power, influence. All dalliances when the blade comes. All parts to play. If I have to go today, going with a piece of the finest cheek in the Berth is alright. Going with the voice of power and deception pressed against me is alright as well." Retracting his hand from beneath, he picked up one of the cups and took a long drink, licking his lips before replacing it to the table. "A fine vintage. I'm a survivor. I'm a liar. I'm a lover and a fighter. I don't say no unless it serves me to say no."

Snapping back to a softer reality, he looked into her eye and smiled. "Tell me what I'm worth to you, dear. I don't have a clue as to how to use the knife. It's strictly for show."

by **Zandelia** on October 15th, 2014, 8:31 pm

“My my, aren’t we…focused…upon something special? If I could blush. Good for you that you know when to retract your hand from the flames. Instinct, good. Calm enough, though…judging from this,” she pressed down upon his desire with her bodyweight slightly, “you’d be more interested in a roll than in a role” she smiled sweetly at that and the blade came up to lift his chin slightly as she considered him carefully.

“All the world’s a stage and we are but playing our parts, indeed. Good boy” she gave him a peck upon the cheek, she owed him that after her minor cruelty.

“Yes…you will do. But not for what you want right now, charmed as I am by your very physical reaction to my...assets. I should feel good that I’m still able to attract in my advancing years. Still, you might get a lay on me but not with me. More wondrous hands claim by arse” she stated as she slipped off of his lap, slid the dagger back into its sheath and sat opposite him now with a cup in her hand, “too bad for you, no?” she leant back in the chair slightly and rested her legs upon the table at the ankles crossed, a fine showing of leg indeed.

She took a long sip from it and savoured the flavour, feeling the tang upon her tongue along with the various hues and tints that such decent fare brought to the senses. It wasn’t just taste it was smell, texture and more. A good wine was like a good woman, full bodied and positively throbbing with sensation. Or that was what she used to say, recently she had decided having a good woman meant having one worth fighting to keep. Something she had not been entirely successful in so far all things considered but then life was never so clear cut as black and white. The cup was placed upon the table delicately, barely a sound and she cupped the bac of her head in her hands and pouted slightly in thought.

“So you heard the rumours and decided to see where they led. Congratulations, you have proven yourself capable. Both under pressure and in pleasant company – you will need both. Yet I would caution that you remain more aware whilst someone tries to seduce you. You never know when next time the blade won’t be taken away. If you don’t know how to fight then I can teach you. The catch? You work for me” she continued smoothly as she continued to watch him intently and wondered if he had put a name to her identity yet.

“And do try to hide that thing under the table Uncle, I don’t want everyone here to think I just got off of it the other way” she raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly.

She could see potential in him if he could keep himself from falling for every pretty young thing who tried to ply him for information. He was obviously healthy and hearty, had a way with words and she doubted he was using a true name which spoke well for his mind. He was not foolish enough to start a fight when he can’t fight, likes to negotiate and knows good wine. It also went that he had saved Fallon from death though she wouldn’t admit that just yet. He also had good taste in women but she wasn’t about to encourage him further, she had teased him enough as it was. She took out a piece of parchment from the bust line of her top and placed it upon the table before her, tapping it in a gentle tune.

“As to what you are worth to me? Nothing…yet. People come to me all the time, few actually impress me enough to be considered worth something. If you want the chance to do so and thus gain my good graces then I am happy to give it to you. If you want schooling in my art then you have to earn it, seeing as you came here I presume it is something you are interested in” she stated factually.

“First, however, tell me what you think about Slavery. And slavers. What do you know about how they work their rackets? Do you know the names of the big players? Where they gather, where they take from? And more importantly…how do you feel about what they do?” she asked him, her tone carefully neutral so that he would not know which way her own loyalties lay.

“Other than that…any questions?” she asked him jovially.

His final test, for now. Was he moral enough to be worth her time?

by **Pulren Marsh** on October 20th, 2014, 9:02 am

All he could do now was watch as her lyrics bathed his presence. He was surely glad to have her press back into him. He didn't particularly care if it was out of jest or zest. He had a suspicion that his loins had robbed him of power somehow, though the blood hadn't completely returned to his brain to put all of that together. He could only mock her a bit by mimicking the phrase 'advancing years'. It wasn't as if she was some old toothless crone, haggling for a cabbage.

Before he knew it, her initial pitch of charm and flesh had come to an end. Even her scent was gone from him as she found herself in the seat opposite, tasting the wine herself.Taking the opportunity to relax, Pulren slid back in his chair a bit, the relief needed as he started to cool down and regain his focus. He wondered whose hands claimed that arse still, as much as it was becoming clear that it would never be his own. A legacy of whores had brought him down again, the many layers of his lies and life unraveling slowly like a rotting onion.

Her words of caution rang true and he pulled himself up to the table, sliding his hair back in a vague attempt at control. "Sunberth is odd." He took another drink, knowing that the cool temperature of the beverage was a sham in the face of its heating effect below."Every woman I have come across is immaculate. For a dirty town full of murderers and thieves, I've yet to see so many beauties. If I am to learn control under such pressure, this is the school in which to do so." He raised his cup to her, as she was clearly among those mentioned. Placing it before him but waiting on a refill, he nodded. He was glad he had found some manner of employment, some way to find himself, the self that waited for him veiled in shadow.

A prize was then revealed from a similar yet slightly less deadly area of her body; a piece of parchment which his eyes traveled to in a manner that her tapping fingers suggested he should. He wondered about this interview and its ramifications. There would no doubt be no more after this one. He thought that the Guard would do well to screen people so closely, but then again, the Guard were just security. This woman brought him closer to an upper echelon which he craved, though he couldn't tell why he craved it so. He listened to her questions, finding them oddly similar to the motivations of Bitzer, the Red Wolf of Sunberth. Could he be talking to the other side of the same coin? First, business.

" I admit I do not know the workings and dealings of the slavers here. I am fresh meat in a stall here. You know it and I know it. I am seasoned a bit, however. I can say clearly and plainly that I am no friend to slavers. I had a hand in repelling some back in Zeltiva and I don't care one bit for subjugation. I won't tolerate slavery or rape, the latter drawing a special kind of ire from my blood. So, all that means is that I have some work to do in the learning department. You seem to be the most capable teacher I have found. Well, one of two, actually." He poured himself some more wine and leaned in a bit closer, a smirk coming to his face in order to mask his quite serious question to onlookers.

"Which brings me to a question that I do have. There was one other who mentioned slavers and her disdain for them. Someone that I fished out of the bay when I first arrived." That wasn't really true, but who was going to check on his actual arrival time? "Someone who also seemed very capable and had their hands in everything as well.She seemed more the type to try the blade before the cheek, however. Do the two of you work together? Am I speaking to the other side of the traveler's coin?"

by **Zandelia** on October 28th, 2014, 1:46 am

“Just because we are surrounded by dirt doesn't mean we should be covered in it Uncle, of all people I would presume that you should know that. Being one to sample many beauties did you not wonder whether the reason they try to remain beautiful is because of the mud? You never know when it'll all end and you;re buried in it. Might as well enjoy it whilst it lasts” she spoke smoothly, a hint of the previous purr there as she laid down her own small portion of philosophy.

“To beauty” she stated as she raised her own cup and drank from it in small sips, once more enjoying the flavours and scents.

It was easy enough to listen to the man afterwards, watching him watching her as she could almost see him wonder. It was enjoyable to find someone whom she could try and work out, not in the personal sense as with Fallon but in a more business-like manner. To see the wheels turning almost, watching eyes and where they fell, the small tells sometimes like the lick of a lip of the raising of an eyebrow. So few were as opaque, though to be fair she had already discovered one way into his mind and motivations. Cruelly done perhaps but in her world there was no such thing as being fair. She didn't move as his words continued and he drew the comparisons out, forming them into a thin strand of questioning. Her face didn't twitch as she felt him go up in her esteem ever so slightly. He was more of a clever man than she had hoped he would be and such ability deserved a reward – if a veiled one. She laughed, a pitched chiming as she leant into his smirk as if sharing a joke to show she could mirror him just as well.

“Think of me not as the other side but as the edge, that bit of the coin which is so often forgotten about. Discounted as it seemingly holds little value, you can;t win off of an edge after all. Most of the time. But what you should consider is that edges never come about without machination. I might be that machination. And the side of a coin is too static for my tastes...edges move” she stated cryptically, too much so perhaps but she liked such words games.

“I must confess that I know of your rescue, consider yourself having passed the first test when you mentioned your name. Or barrier rather, I have no time for fools or cowards and you have proven that you are neither. However...neither do I have time for the uneducated. So, the real question I have now as to your use is how quickly you can learn” she continued as she leant back and fixed him with a warm gaze and a smile – let them all think she was being talked into a lay, she didn't care it would only open up further doors for her here.

Sex always sells after all. Always... she noted privately as she first sipped from his cup for the crowd and then sipped from her own.

“So...on that note. Do you like games Uncle? I do. I need eyes and minds, muscles are not so important. Your dislike of such things is a point to your credit for you and ensures that you remain in my good graces for now. You may yet learn Web's favour and grace. So...a game,” she al but commanded, though in a soft tone, a small clue to see if he could associate dominance with not being a mirror contact, “I shall give you...5 chimes. In that time I want you to look about the room and then report to me what you see. Not what is there mind, what you see. Motivations, emotions, employments, abilities, weaknesses and strengths. So on, you get the idea” she waved her free hand dismissively.

“Think of the world like an onion, there is always another layer. If you can prove that you can see beyond the first layer or so then I may decide to do more than sit on your lap. I might give you that most precious of commodities, can you guess what that is?” she smiled sweetly at him and hoped he would pick the right answer, she wasn't about to roll over for him after all.

by **Pulren Marsh** on November 1st, 2014, 12:34 am

To beauty, indeed. Her point was well taken as Pulren knew all too well how fragile life could be. Out of the frying pan of Zeltiva's insane Wizards and into the knife ready pits of Sunberth. He did, however, find that he felt satisfied that his notions were correct about Web and Bitzer working together. Not as satisfied as by the wine or the brief lapdance, but content nonetheless.

As he listened to her speak about the sides and edges of the coin, of the machinations that moved them, Pulren wondered if this woman didn't really enjoy having more knowledge than another. She was impossible to read at this point in the game, so he would only have to mentally note this as a hunch. He did feel, though, that she might have some ego on her own, whoever she was. Before he could dwell on it much further, she was mentioning and confirming his rescue of the not so deceased Red Wolf and was ready to test him further.

Just like that, Pulren felt that he had passed the initial test. Palaren's imaginary foot was in the door.

He did like games. He had believed he was already playing a game of pretend, but it seemed that a more challenging game was on the horizon for him. Furthermore, he believed that she might still believe him so completely controlled by women that her stretching and lounging was supposed to distract him from the focus. She had just put a dagger in his ribs. If he was still after her tail, he deserved to be stabbed, not to be given an opportunity. As she spoke of the rules of the game, Pulren's eyes were already scanning the crowd in a light fashion. He got the idea about what she was saying, it came with the job as a Wave Guard. While either on patrol or sizing up suspects, it was always desired to read between the lines. Sometimes there was no story to decipher and the details had to be gained through observation alone.

While still surveying the audience, the word slipped from the side of his mouth in a nonchalant manner. "Information." Having it or not having it brought every good and bad thing into his life as far back as he could remember. If Web did hold the key to something precious and desirable, it was a wealth of information about Sunberth and perhaps beyond. His finger traced idly on the lip of his cup as he watched the crowd, absorbing the details of the crowd. The bar and its inhabitants, the tables, the woman wandering the floor, the patrons coming in and out. He wasn't sure if he had been looking for five chimes, but he started speaking nonetheless.

"Female bartender is either new or new to this establishment. Has trouble finding things, but has a familiarity with the job. Farthest three patrons are regulars, they are helping her by pointing out where the familiar items are located and what the other bartender usually does. The tables are all sailors, doesn't take much to know that, other than my special knowledge of Zeltiva. The smell of them, their talk, the weather beaten faces. The woman walking around absentmindedly is looking for a spare copper or two, must have a self esteem problem as she is too shy to ask anyone. I would say she is scared to, but her thirst looks severe and she lacks visible scarring."

Taking another sip of his wine, he placed the cup down and folded his hands, leaning in with his false intimacy face again. "There's a pair of men at the entrance who shoot a glance right to you every time the door opens. As far as you, I believe you probably wouldn't lay me unless you were especially drunk. Maybe after I earn the right or something similar. Not sure what the criteria is. Your grasp of information, however, is what I really want to dive into."

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