Mishap or Misery [Priss and Senu]

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Location: Tavern
Attire: Adventuring Outfit

Things had gotten too hot in Serendipity.

The decision to send a group to Essryn had not been made lightly. After all, the journey had been incredibly risky, necessitating a long, perilous voyage which had taken them through a roiling ocean, a narrow river, and harsh deserts. However, with the sudden uptick in adventurer and mercenary activity in Serendipity, the chief's hand had been forced. Accordingly, a small group of the clan's most capable, reliable, and determined raiders had been assembled to venture to Essryn, where a recently-opened tomb flush with ancient riches had been uncovered.

In spite of the fact that she was the clan's youngest marauder, Priss had been allowed to join them.

From there, it was a race against time. As anticipated, the trip had been long and demanding. Nevertheless, it had passed with all seven raiders alive and healthy, albeit hungry and exhausted. Before long, they had managed to locate an inn within the city. Soon, all of the raiders had full bellies and beds for the night, including Priss herself. However, the diminutive Gobliness was not ready to turn in, just yet.

Quite simply, she wanted to explore.

With a glass of water in hand, Priss made her way back downstairs after getting settled into her room for the night. The short-statured Gobliness wasn't looking for anything in particular. If anything, she wanted to find a local who was familiar with Essryn and the surrounding desert. Anything she could learn would be helpful, especially if it helped her find the tomb her clanmates were looking for.

After all, they were here to make money quickly, preferably without overstaying their welcome.

[Bees]

SENU

">You can't be serious!<"

">Seems I am, child.<"

The appraiser flicked a dot of dirt off the engraved cube.

">Fool's gold. Copper. Worthless with any trader."<" She let it drop from her fingers onto the scarp of linen it was given in, as if handling the object was beneath her.

">But,<" Her lips curled in an unpleasant smile. ">Worry not. None would hold that little mistake against such a young, inexperienced-<"

The woman's voice became condescendingly sweet as she reached over the table, to pat the disgruntled cheek of-

Senu bit her finger.

The appraiser shrieked, pulling back the hurt hand, as the slave at her side sprang forth from a poorly concealed nap.

He unsheathed the sword at his hip, taking a groggy step forward, while the assailant swiftly threw himself off the stool, rolling and then scrambling across the floor for the spear propped up against the bar-

Senu's air left him when a heavy foot crashed into his back, pinning him to the floor.

The bodyguard-slave smacked his lips and scratched his hip, while his mistress furiously rose from the table, holding the bit finger. She was an older woman, dark skin losing its shine, coiled black hair peppered with gray - and that same mane bounced as she marched up to where Senu was struggling to take in a full breath.

"Ungrateful brat." She hissed in the Tradertongue. "I not take offense you sell me cheap grave-decor. I be kind. I be understanding. And you wound me?" She dramatically revealed her finger - a show put on for the foreigners assembled here for dinner and drink, to see how the well-established appraiser of items dealt with unruly customers.

The digit had not as much as a red dot on it. The woman realized this, and swiftly curled it within a fist. Repurposing embarrassment for anger, she lowered to her knees besides the pinned boy, reaching into her sleeve - pulling out a small dagger.

">Num, kneel on him!<" The slave obeyed, and the boy whimpered as the full weight of an adult man crushed him.

The appraiser took hold of his wrist.

"I treat other as they treat me." She said, vile shine in her eyes, and raised the dagger over the boy's hand.

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Location: Tavern
Attire: Adventuring Outfit

Taking a seat at one of the empty tables, Priss sipped at her water as she discreetly listened in on the conversations transpiring around her. With her big, expansive ears, the Gobliness could overhear conversations from across the room, with one in particular drawing her attention. Sparing a brief, subtle glance over to the conversation in question, Priss first took note of the aged woman—an appraiser—and her sleeping slave. The woman was someone to remember, not the least for the fact her group would need someone willing to purchase whatever riches they found inside the tomb.

Priss smiled and took another sip of her water. Already, she had found a potential fence.

However, as the conversation increased in volume, the young, malnourished-looking boy the woman was talking to inevitably captured her attention. Priss could hear him, of course, but the Gobliness didn't dare take another glance back towards that area so soon. It was only when the conversation became a scene—at which point everyone inside the tavern not only overheard it, but was also compelled to shift their attention towards the display—did Priss turn her head once more.

Quite simply, the boy was desperate and the woman was angry.

Perfect.