"Divination? What's to stop the boy from lying about his name and sign?" The knight looks unimpressed, but doesn't stop Danielle. The young sorceror holds out his palm, still behind the horses. "I'm Pel. My sign is, um...libra." Danielle spots a moment of hesitation, like her son when she's caught him red handed and he tries to make up a lie.
Blood sprays out onto the stone walls of the alley, as the assassin's throat is cut. The man's hands go to his neck, but it's far too late, and he stumbles and falls to the ground, quickly falling unconscious, before dying. "Shame they had to die. Oh well, thanks for rescuing me, bro." Madeline smiles and kisses Varrin's cheek affectionately.
The man grins, leaning back in his chair and sliding his legs out onto his desk. "Straight to business? Interesting, the old man back there preferred to start with small talk." He chuckles, and offers her a bottle of vodka. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I understand that my partner doesn't care about me, but replacing me with someone who's both trustworthy and competent will take time and money. The old man you're travelling with knows that he'll piss my partner off if I die, so don't try to act tough." He looks her up and down. "You're Feldonna's what? Wife? Daughter? Mistress?"
The movement, one she's done a hundred times, comes naturally to the witcher. Verena bends her knees slightly, the claws sailing harmlessly above her red locks, as she turns her hips. Pirouetting, the witcher slashes at her opponent, the silver blade carving into the monster's grey flesh. It lets out a piercing shriek, and Verena knows that she's mortally wounded the bloedzuiger, slicing up its internal organs. Enraged, the beast charges straight at her in one last attempt to drain her dry.
Mirellia's glare intensified as the man spoke, and offered her a drink. "I'm his daughter in law." She replied, before thinking up of a way to scare the alderman. She once again noticed the luxuries in his office, and how close his village was to Novigrad. "Yes, to business. You seem to have quite expensive furniture. I guess an alderman makes quite a good amount of coin. I do hope you're paying your taxes." She said, pausing for a moment. "Because, as far as noble hearsay goes, I hear the crown is preparing to wage war. And the king is expecting everyone to do their part. I heard he even witch hunters to some tax evaders abode. Ah, I do loathe the smell of burning flesh." She pauses again to see the alderman's reaction. "But I am sure a trustworthy, and competent man like you remembered to pay up, yes? I'd hate to see such a man burn at a pyre."
Both men nod. "My last client screwed me over, tried to kill me instead of paying me, so I need whatever money I can get." Gustav takes a swig of his vodka. Bogrid skulls the entire bottle at once, before letting out a satisfied "ahhh!" Wiping his mouth, he answers. "Well, I ain't a monster slayer, but since I'm not getting paid for protecting the merchant, we may as well do this. How hard can it be?" He looks at the witchers. Gustav chuckles. "How hard can it be? I always used to say that before jobs, and I almost always barely avoided getting killed."
"What a waste." The man chuckles, before she makes her threat. "I pay whatever I owe." His eyes narrow, and his voice drops. "What, you're saying you have some sort of connections, girl?"
"Indeed. And I'm sure a few witch hunters would love to hear what sort of devil you made a deal with, to gain your wealth." Mirellia shot back in a cold tone of her own, "Though from the rumors, I hear they'll be breaking a few fingers, while questioning you. But I'm sure you'll say you got it from a merchant that bribed you. I'm sure they'll dirty their name for a skilled alderman such as yourself."
"Now, now." The alderman says in a more conciliatory tone. "Perhaps the 'labour fee' I proposed to your father in law was a little high? I don't buy that you have connections to witch hunters." He tilts his head. "But, I didn't get to where I am by taking unnecessary risks. So perhaps we can work out a deal?"
"I don't really need connections to them. Since they'll be more than happy to rid a town of a "devil worshipping" alderman, and confiscate his entire belongings." Mirellia replied in a strict tone, while folding her arms underneath her large bust. "So, what is this deal you wish to discuss?"
Trista chuckled too for wordls of dwarf. "How hard? It depends of monster what we will face off, it is too soon to judge." She dry her eyes from the smoke. "Alright, my plan is simple. On the sunrise, we will begin inwestigation by asking question to locals what they seen. I don't expected too much, but sometimes ewen commoners noticed some vallube information. If we don't get anything, we will go look for the the traces of these thing where I saw him tonight. Any opinion?"
The alderman pushes back his chair, the wooden legs scratching against the floor. "I think you'd find they'd be just as happy to 'punish' the beautiful merchant's wife who gave them the tip, but that's neither here nor there." The alderman removes his feet from the table, and looks at Mirellia with intent. "I'd be willing to forgo the fee in its entirety, if you were to make it up to me. Specifically, if you made it up to me on your knees."
Hearing his offer, Mirellia glared at him again. Though last night's "fantasy" flashed in her mind, she wouldn't just start actually acting it out. "I think it's best if you rethink your words." She growled at him, while staring daggers right into his eyes.
'If it will help,' Ard approached the table. Putting his hand on Estelle's chest, he gently held her down.
“You're welcome, sis.” Varrin returned the smile, then quickly searched the bodies of the two dead men, looking for anything of interest and making sure not to get any blood on his clothes.
Gustav nods. "Yeah, we should definitely ask some questions. There's this lady," he gestures to the redhead at the bar, "plus some people in the kitchen, a few guests, the watchman outside, and I think she said that there was a woodsman out in the forest? We should probably split up if we want to talk to all those people. You have any idea who you want to talk to?" Bogrid signals for more vodka. "We dwarves aren't really meant for the great outdoors, so I'll leave the tracking to you two."
The alderman smirks, leading Mirellia to assume that he was intending to irritate her by his proposition, more than out of any actual hope that she'd do it. Still, he seems satisfied enough to have annoyed her. Leaning back into his original position, the alderman says "All right, tell your father in law that he'll have his supplies soon, for 10% of what I asked him for. I need to make a little money off of this, of course." He grins. "Wouldn't want my poor children to starve."
Abigail uses the forceps to pull down on the arrowhead, pulling it through Estelle's thigh. The noble frowns slightly, as if confused about what's happening to her, but doesn't seem to be hurt. A sharp sensation causes her to jump slightly, pressing up against Ard's hand. Looking up at the elf, Estelle gives a dopey smile, running her hand up his arm. "Preeettyyy..."
Trista nod and finished her meal. "Well, I will go to watchmen outside, he looks like he know the most about that creature. To woodsman I can go tomorow, in the night he probably sleeping already, so there is no point in wake up him now. Bogrid, let's take info from guests here, and Gustav will take kitchen and redhead. " She said and finished her vodka. She feel nice warm and little dizzy, but as the witcheress she was realy tolerant for toxin and alcohol. She get up from the table. " Alright, I will go. "
Kneeling down to rifle through the assassins' pockets, Varrin finds a coin purse tied to one of the men. Cutting the purse loose, he finds 100 Nilfgaardian florens inside. Florens, the currency of the massive Empire of Nilfgaard in the south, isn't particularly valuable in the Northern Kingdoms, but Varrin knows that if he can find a bank that'll pay him a fair exchange rate, he could exchange the coins for hefty sum of his own currency. Searching the other corpse, Varrin finds a dagger strapped to the dead man's calf. The dagger is curved slightly in a foreign fashion, with heady ornamentation around the hilt. The blade itself, however, is quality steel, and would cut through flesh or clothing with ease. Where the daggers the men used were cheap, disposable stabbing weapons meant for assassination, the dagger Varrin found would be useful in a proper fight, and would fetch a decent price as well if he decided to sell it.
