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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 2:25:33 GMT -5
Vira had fled the sack of Lower Crinkley in terror, with nothing but the clothes on her back, her father's old mule, and whatever money she could hastily stuff into a purse. That had bought her three days and nights at a filthy inn near the Street of Silk, and daily Vira feared the innkeep's leers would turn into unwelcome caresses. And so on her fourth day, she resolved to take the step that she had been considering since her second night in the city, when her shock and horror and grief had subsided just enough for her to release that she could not afford to mourn her parents when she had to still save herself and find some way to survive.
After breaking her fast and steadfastly avoiding the innkeeper's gaze, she found her way to a greasy tavern that was closer to Flea Bottom, a place where it was rumored that Darklyn's birds came to wet their throats. Vira did not know how much she could trust rumors, since even she knew enough to guess that an experienced whisperer would never let themselves be caught.
She entered the tavern, clutching a modest, rough woolen shawl tightly around her shoulders so as to disguise her shapely figure and avoid drawing men's stares. She wanted to observe, not attract attention, and she was more nervous than she cared to admit. She bought herself an ale, and found a quiet table in a corner. There she sat, to observe the men and see if she could identify anyone worth approaching, anyone who seemed that they could plausibly be connected to Lord Darklyn. She had no idea how she would identify them, but she trusted her instincts. |
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 15, 2014 3:41:12 GMT -5
Those gathered were the usual miscreants that frequented such establishments (interestingly enough, many of the patrons who had once enjoyed Bert's Tavern); sellswords plying their trade, smallfolk trying to forget the times they lived in, and crippled soldiers that drank themselves to sleep every night to combat the horrors they endured. A few off-duty members of the city watch enjoyed drinks as well in the greasy tavern, toasting their glasses with the scum they usually beat half to death upholding the King's peace.
A barmaid made the rounds, a woman of middling age, though likely as on sale as any of the doxies that worked in the establishment. These were desperate times, after all. Looking at the bedraggled women plying their wares, it occurred to Vira that even covered, she was likely a great deal more attractive than they were. A few of the rougher sorts had noticed as well.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 4:02:54 GMT -5
Vira did not fail to notice the looks she was getting, and made a decision. Talking to a woman was safer, for a cutpurse or a murderer she could deal with, and she would not need to fear rape. Besides, if the barmaid was as much of a whore as she looked, then Vira was interested in her for many reasons, not only to do with finding out if she was a whisperer or not. Though Vira suspected she was. Whore were good little birds.
When she caught the barmaid's eye, she beckoned her over to her table. She was not sure exactly what she was going to say, or even if she should say anything. When the barmaid came up to her, she quietly said the first thing she could think of.
"There's a copper star for you if you can take me some place private, and another if you can talk to me for a few minutes." It was all the money Vira could spare, but she thought it would be quite a tempting sum in this haggard, miserable city.
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 15, 2014 4:16:02 GMT -5
"I don't do dames." was the woman's terse reply. She had likely never thought she'd be a whore at all, but easy choices are few and far between when the drums of war start beating.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 4:19:49 GMT -5
Despite everything, that made Vira come as close to smiling as she had in a long time. "I don't want pillow play with you," she replied quietly. "Only words."
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 15, 2014 4:24:51 GMT -5
The suspicion was plain on the haggard woman's face, as she held out her hand for the coin.
"A private room and talk." she repeated. "Not for long either. Have work that needs doing."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 4:29:33 GMT -5
Seven hells, Vira thought, hanging over the copper star with a pang. I hope you know what you're doing, miller seed. It was made her extremely nervous to think of spending two copper stars on what might be a dead end, but she had to try now. She felt far safer with this girl, grubby and grim as she was, than talking to any of the men.
They went to the private room, and Vira wasted no time getting to her point. "I was wondering if you had any idea," she said, "of where a bird might go if has a song to sing? A spider's web could always grow wider, after all."
She produced the other copper star, though the thought of giving it to this girl made her sick. If this is a dead end, I might be reduced to whoring myself out like her, she thought with growing dread. No, no, I mustn't think of that. I must get SOMETHING out of her, some how.
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 15, 2014 4:42:06 GMT -5
The woman gave Vira a looks as if she'd grown two heads, the metaphorical language clearly lost on her. Nonetheless, she snatched up the copper star with surprising speed.
"You want to speak gibberish, talk to the drunks."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 4:59:00 GMT -5
Vira's calm face did not show the sudden anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. She forced those feelings down.
"Listen to me," she said. "I know you know who Lord Darklyn is. Even the villagers in the crownlands know who he is. And why is that? Because his eyes and ears are everywhere. Those who help him are richly rewarded. Far beyond those two little copper stars you just got from me. I am going to be very useful to him, but I need someone to take me to him. And if you could do that, I will consider you a friend. I never forget my friends." She smiled. "What's your name, dear?"
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 15, 2014 5:05:00 GMT -5
"Wouldn't know no Lord Darklyn from the High Septon 'imself." the woman replied. "Doesn't come in this tavern, I don't know him."
The woman seemed to hesitate, perhaps feeling guilty she took so much of the young girl's coin.
"There's a seamstress shop near here." she continued, after some consideration. "Caters to the high-class whores who can charge a dragon for their cunny. Owner used to be one herself, though rumor is she didn't earn the coin to open it on her back."
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all alone and also really bored 
Hopefully going to kickstart the festival too