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The Adventures of Antoinette [gelid and causeway]

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Versaerin made his way down to the docks, Antoinette following at a casual distance so as not to catch his attention, occasionally deftly ducking behind a shantyhouse to hide when he looked around to see if he was being followed. Upon reaching the nearest dock, he carefully began to crawl down and disappeared beneath it.

As Antoinette crept up carefully to see what he was doing down there, she saw that there was a large culvert underneath the dock. There was an unlocked entry door in a grate covering the portal. The tunnel, however, was pitch black.
 
Now was the time Antoinette wished she had some backup. But no, she had been sent alone. Taking a torch from her pack, she waited a few moments, then headed in, lit torch in one hand, sword in the other.

She intended to scout the area, so when it came time to infiltrate the hideout she would have some idea of where she was. Once she was done here, she intended to report back to Sir Gunzig what she had learned so far.
 
The tunnel seemed featureless, extending a long ways straight ahead. There were several side tunnels connecting, though mostly these seemed to small for a human to travel through. At first, the tunnel smelled rank, and must have served as a storm drain for the city, but eventually the crafted tunnel gave way to another one, earthy smelling, dug into packed soil and held aloft with wooden supports.

Judging by how long she had been walking, she must have been out of town and underneath the outlying woodland area. The good sign was, there were definitely footprints in the dirt here, so it was likely Versaerin passed this way.
 
At this point, Antoinette decided she had gone far enough, and it was time for her to report back what she had discovered thus far. Somehow, she had been so lucky as to find her quarry from literally the first man she talked to.

She would head back to the chateau, and report to Sir Gunzig.
 
Gunzig didn't appear to have moved from his office.
He was still working hard. Perhaps he didn't require sleep?

Sensing her presence, he looked up. "Haven't you left yet?"
 
Before she met him, she changed back into her uniform. Upon entering his office, she snapped up a salute.

"Sir, I have identified one of the criminal's accomplices, begun infiltration of their organization, and discovered one of their covert routes out of the city. I believe it may be a suitable location to conduct surveillance."
 
Gunzig stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Yes, indeed. Good work. Let me know how that goes," he said curtly.
 
She blinked, and then told him of the secret passage in the docks, and where to find it. "If you station men where they can watch it, you may be able to catch René's subordinates, as well. I shall return to my mission."

With that, she dons her disguise again, and returned to the inn where she told Varsaerin to meet her, under the alias of Isabelle.
 
Gunzig didn't seem like he particularly cared, saying that if he had men to spare on this endeavor, he would have already sent a team, and that she should focus on finding René himself instead of diddling around with his associates.

The inn was small and dingy. Antoinette had gotten a small room, with barely enough to bit the furniture and still have a place to stand. It did, however, have a window view of the tavern, which would allow her to keep an eye on any comings and goings.
 
Netta didn't plan on sleeping much tonight; although she drank tea the same as the rest of Vinnel's inhabitants, during her time at the Academy, a foreign man from the desert of Qeshad had introduced her to their drink of Khaf, and she had developed a taste. She sat with a cup of the brew, and watched the tavern for the drow.
 
She kept her vigil for several hours. She watched as the tavern's patrons left, and dispersed to their homes, and even the barkeep closed to the place up, doused the lantern outside, and walked off down the street.

It was then that Versaerin finally returned, sans his sack of supplies, unlocked the door, and entered. He didn't even give a moment's consideration to the inn, though it *was* late, and perhaps he was waiting to contact her tomorrow.
 
Knowing that he had returned, Antoinette curled up in her bed to sleep until the morning. She would remain around the inn and tavern until Versaerin decided to talk to her.
 
Antoinette didn't sleep long. Probably only a few hours at most, and when she awoke the sun was up, just a fair bit past the horizon, with a perfect angle to fully glare through the curtainless window.

After she waited awhile, it didn't seem like Versaerin was going to be coming. He hadn't given any indication after all of when he might come to see her. As she'd kept in eye on the tavern while waiting, it seemed he hadn't been coming or going any time this morning, either.
 
Knowing that patience was the key, Netta decided to head back to the tavern for the day again. She would pay attention to the day's comings and goings, and try to get a sense for this, the seedier part of town.

All the while trying to ignore that damp sensation in her panties that was being caused by the tiefling. Malison, she believed the barkeeper had called her.

Diplomacy (Gather Information) (1d20+7=10)
 
People filtered in and out of the tavern. In the daylight hours, the stage was hidden behind curtains. The tavern's star attraction was only available after dark for entertainment, but her silhouette was still visible behind the sheer curtain.

The daylight crowd is mostly sailors and other such ruffians. Many of them are a fair bit surly and only want to be left alone, though overall their reception of 'Isabelle' is warmer than the night crowd, or at least what little friendliness they do show seems sincere.

A few of the more talkative ones are pretty quick to rant about their personal problems, various goings-on around the town, and rumors, though nothing in regards to René.


((Was there anything specific you wanted to ask about?))
 
((Just picking up rumors, talk of what is going on around Libertine Lagoon, possible hooks for sidequests, etc. Also trying to ingratiate myself with the locals.))
 
There is quite a bit of mercenary talk around the tavern. Vinnell is famous for its mercenaries and other freelancers, and the armies its nobles have sold out to the warring kingdoms to the northeast have led to its current state of relative wealth, at least among the upper classes.

Current discussion revolves around the Baroness seeking to create diplomatic solutions to some of these conflicts, hopefully establishing further trade relations with the lands she sends her ambassadors to. This is naturally one of her many controversial projects.

Rumors of pirate and fishmen attacks increasing among the nearby islands. Some people say that it's due to influence from some kind of sea-witch coven that's been founded on the island of Blue Hackle.

One patron mentioned that a pair of "half-breeds" have arrived in town last week and have been going around, picking fights, and otherwise indulging in a spree of crime and mischief.

Some of the stand-out tavern patrons are a group of orcs around a table, all wearing spiky armor and carrying a lot of weapons. The tallest, spikiest, weaponedest of the lot appears to be the leader. He has a long forked beard and an eyepatch.

There was a drow male and two females at another table. Antoinette recalls that they were in the tavern the previous night, amongst those who had been whispering about her (with positive facial expressions, at least). They still appeared to be making eyes at her now.
 
Feeling a little adventurous, and knowing that she's just killing time until Versaerin decides to invite her to their little hideout, Antoinette decided to give the trio of drow some... extra attention. She sauntered over to the table.

"Where I come from, it is customary to introduce oneself, once you 'ave started undressing someone wizh your eyes." She sat down next to them. "Now, do one of you wish to buy me a drink?"
 
The two women giggled a bit, though the male was quiet. He seemed a bit shy.
The taller of the two introduced herself first. Her hair was shaved on one side of her head, and died a vivid magenta on the other. She had a pierced eyebrow and lip, and was lightly dressed, showing off her incredibly toned abs and arms.
"My name Khatrin. This is my sister, Sarrai." The other girl nodded and spoke a greeting. Her hair was long and full, and she didn't have any of the usual piercings Antoinette had seen on a lot of the other drow in town. She was also dressed a lot more modestly, in a blue and white dress, black sleeves, gloves, stockings, and boots.
"And my brother, Malannin."
The male's hair was shaved similarly to hers, though shorter and undyed. He had no piercings either, though he had elaborate golden sigils painted on his bare chest. He nodded as well and smiled, but didn't say anything.
"I suppose me may as well buy you a drink." Khatrin hailed a barmaid. "What is your name, fair one?"
 
Netta decided to be... somewhat frank with them, as well as giving herself a somewhat mysterious mystique. It could help her fit in, it seemed.

"You may call me... Isabelle. At least, for today."

That Malannin fellow... he was someone Antoinette didn't mind looking at. It didn't help that the tavern's main attraction had kept her attention in her nethers most of the day.
 
"Ahhh, a collector or frequent changer of names?" Khatrin mused. "Someone constantly in a state of flux with their identity? Or someone who just likes to spice their aesthetic up with a new label the way some like to wear different clothes?"
"Or a liar. Someone in disguise," Sarrai interjected.
"Or that, yes, if you want to be unimaginitive. You'll have to forgive my sister, Izzy, she is not as worldly as I am. She doesn't know the diversity of people in this world, so she always jumps to the basest conclusions."
Malannin didn't add anything, though he looked every now and then at Antoinette to see how she was reacting his sibling's words, and then averted his eyes downwards, or back to his sister.


The barmaid arrived with another round of drinks for them all.
 
"Zhink of me as you will. I... I 'ave my reasons for taking zhe name zhat I currently 'ave, and if zhe time comes zhat I feel you 'ave earned knowledge of other names, well zhen, I shall zhen give you zhat privilage." She took a look at the drink that was offered to her with a disinterested air. "So, what brings you zhree to zhis fair city?"
 
"We're looking for a place to live, and this town's the only place around here that's friendliest to drow. Well, aside from some of the islands, but while I like the beach, I'm not that in love with all things maritime," Khatrin answered.
"We're refugees," Sarrai added. "Fleeing the Tunnel Wars. The underdark isn't quite the haven for drow as it used to be, between the Umber Empire and the various kobold clans ransacking all the major city states."
 
"Oh? Zhat sounds, well, I wouldn't say zhat sounds exciting, as I suppose it must be quite unpleasant for zhose of you who must flee zheir homes, no? But zhis... Umber Empire must be quite powerful, if zhey could uproot zhe drow. I heard you were a powerful people, in your time."
 
"It was bound to happen eventually, with all the backstabbing, infighting, and killing everyone who wasn't perfect," Sarrai said.

"Yeah," Malannin spoke up for the first time. "Not much regret getting out of that, er, shithole. Had a great excuse to leave."

Sarrai continued, "Drow cities got specifically raided because of all the enemies we made. People like the duergar got by because they sold their services as smiths and mercenaries, while other creatures were too remote to have any realms of particular interest..."

Khatrin said, "I'm sure it sounds really fucked up to a surfacer, but, like... I watched my mother's head get swiped clean off by an umber hulk warmaster and I felt more excitement than shock or terror. Freaking bitch." She took a good, long guzzle and continued. "I'd traveled on the surface quite a bit as a merchant, so after our home got ransacked, I took these two and we got the hell out of there."
 
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