The Search for Skamos (Sunrise, Glen, Sithani)

Glen draws up the hood of his cloak and stays quiet and observant, attempting to look like a customer wishing to preserve his anonymity. Elen follows very close behind, sniffing carefully and keeping on alert for danger.

"If you really wanted a flower crown I could have got you one," teases Sithani. "Actually, would it be good manners to get something from her store later, as thanks?"

The flower-crown Sunrise commissions is a lovely wreath of full red roses, soft and dark as blood.

The Lady Luck club is only just barely open this time of day, and has not anywhere near the volume of customers it will have tonight when the real business picks up. People mill sparsely in and out, dropping off packages, delivering messages, and occasionally stopping for a drink over lunch. Almost everyone present is a tiefling, though there are a very few half-orcs and human-mixes scattered around. A few dancers work the stage, and a few servers work the floor, but the morning crew is a skeleton staff--especially with plague sweeping the district.

A massive bar dominates the side of the room, and an equally impressively big bartender tends to the smattering of customers there.

(OOC: I love how you read my mind, that was exactly the wreath I was going to describe.)

She shoots a quick grin at Sithani. "I think it's safe to assume I always want a flower crown. But yes, I intend to go back to her for all my, uh. Flower needs."

Unlike Glen, Sunrise makes no attempt to be unobtrusive, gliding through the bar's interior as if she were walking across a stage. She positions herself at the bar, a little way away from any other patrons, and leans against it, meeting the large bartender's eyes with a flirty smile. Her fingers twirl the little flower she holds, playing idly with it.

Glen posts up at the bar close enough to Sunrise to give the impression that he might be her bodyguard, or he might not know her at all. He keeps his hood drawn and orders a cup of tea if approached by a bartender. Elen stays VERY close to him, sitting almost right on Glen's feet.

Sithani meanwhile, thinking that someone accompanied by a panther is going to attract attention no matter their precautions, simply stays by Sunrise and acts like what she is.

The bartender frowns at Sunrise and Sithani, not mollified by the flirty glances. He waits on his other customers and murmurs something to a passing server who disappears into a back room. After a short wait time in which he appears to be giving the interlopers a chance to leave peacefully and abandon whatever idea made them think this was clever, he walks over. Tossing a towel over his broad shoulder, he sizes up the two girls. "Yeah?"

Glen listens carefully but does not make any movement. He does not make his association with the women known.

Elen watches the large bartender with bright, curious eyes, leaning against his ranger's leg. He does not move from his seat.

Sunrise grins. "Hiya, barkeep." Reaching out, she tucks the flower behind his ear, then spreads her hands wide with a wink. "Surprise me. I trust your judgment."

"Uh-huh." The bartender looks unamused but pulls down two glasses and pours them each a red wine which smells dark and woodsy. "What are you here looking for?"

She gives him an elegant one-shouldered shrug, sniffing the glass with appreciation. "Good conversation, perhaps?"

The bartender sighs and gives her a direct look. "Look. You brought that flower in here to be noticed. What do you want? If you keep blowing smoke up my ass, I'm gonna do us both a favor and throw you out onto the street. Someone tell you we were hiring? They lied."

Her affect changes, instantly becoming more businesslike. "I told you. I want a conversation. Possibly a negotiation." Sipping her wine, she adds, "Honestly after what went down two days ago I expected your people would have some questions for me too."

At the reference to two days ago, his eyes widen and fear flickers--though not of her. "Kid, you should leave," he begins, but the slip of a server he murmured to before now appears at his elbow to whisper at him. He pales and nods.

"Private room at the back," he says, jerking his head in the appropriate direction. "Red room, with the lion if you're color-blind. Good luck, kid."

Sunrise tosses him one last wink, then rises and - wine glass in hand - makes her way to the red room with the lion. She does not look at her companions, leaving the option open to bow out after that dire warning.

Glen stands up, silently, and follows closely behind Sunrise, hood still drawn. Elen trots up and walks beside her graceful steps, keeping near both to her and to Glen.

Sithani strolls after them, mentally running through her available spells should they be needed.

The back room behind the red lion door is dark and smokey. Several figures sit around a round table festooned with playing cards and bright chips. At the head of the table (and clearly the boss, based on the deferential body language of the others in the room) is a reddish-brown tiefling dressed in a smart vest embroidered with dark red-gold roses. He holds a cigar delicately between fingers the size of sausages, and his eyes are shaded under a dark hat. The man can't be much more than five feet tall, but even in his seat he dominates the room with his presence.

Nearby at the table is the violet tielfing Glen pursued to no avail. She studies the cards in her hands and pointedly does not look up at the intruders. The only other familiar face in the room is a young woman who stands by the wall and appears to be ranked somewhere above "server" and below "player". Sunrise recognizes her as the tiefling she grabbed during the fight and ordered to withdraw. She gives Sunrise a furtive glance but is otherwise quiet and unnoticeable.

The boss studies them for a long moment before making a gesture---three seats instantly are brought forward to the table and everyone scoots to make room for the new arrivals. "Sit," he orders in a voice that is somehow both silky-smooth and deeply thick, as if brimstone could be wrapped in satin.

Glen clenches his jaw beneath his hood. He takes a seat, as ordered, but remains silent. Elen sits at his feet, eyeing the people in the room suspiciously.

Sunrise sinks into a seat with a warm smile. "Hi," she says simply, for all the world as if this were a social call. "Thank you for meeting with us."

Sithani sits down casually by Sunrise, though if the seating allows it she will put herself between the bard and the closest mobster. She takes in the group, seeing what she can gather about their mood and friendliness from a first look.

Insight roll:

Sithani recognizes that the group is warily deferring their outward mood to whatever the Boss decides, however, she is not familiar enough with the people nor the dynamics of the situation to tell what each person's private inclinations might be.

The man on the other side of the table takes a long drag on his cigar, studying their group with his hidden eyes. He takes his time, not seeming to feel rushed. "I like your crown," he finally observes, referring to the dark red roses which so neatly match his vest. "Very pretty. Harmony?"

"Sunrise," she corrects him with a smile, intentionally misunderstanding the question. "Pleasure to meet you." Reaching across the table to offer her hand, she dimples. "Matching the decor was a happy coincidence."

Glen eyes the interactions from the depths of his hood, and will not speak unless spoken to for the moment.

So it's just like a royal court, thinks Sithani. Will power never be original? Still, she knows enough about the protocol of royal courts to let Sunrise keep talking until the boss should want to talk to anyone else.