The Baker's girl - A tale of Gradzlata

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva smiled, tears in her eyes, "I know... I know it hurts to talk about that stuff Tata, but... I leaned something out there. Your brother might not have felt at home here, but for me... this is home. Maybe not this bakery, maybe not forever, no matter how much I love it, but Gradzlata. It's home." she choked on a little laugh and wiped her eyes, before drying her hands on the apron and starting in on the oven. "Not that I won't travel some, but I will always come home. Now, tell me about this helper you were supposed to hire. Tevis, did you offer him a spot to sleep by the oven like I told you?"

The day passed, as so many had before. With tiring, but satisfying work. Their stocks replenished with Ziva's help, and that evening, rather than a night on the town as she was sometimes tempted into, the young fencer enjoyed that most unique of luxuries for the adventurous heart, a warm night's sleep in her own bed. The next day, she started back on her delivery route, keeping a special eye on the clientele of the Crimson Hen, just to see if a certain pretty rich boy showed up. Not that she was expecting it, he was due to wed soon. Part of her was looking forward to confronting him soon, if only to mock his choice of in-laws. Part of her dreaded it, just in case he decided that she was a loose end not worth leaving to dangle in the breeze.

Ziva ALSO kept an eye out for more work. Whether her father decided to hire help, or buy off his debts, her last job was a bust, and money was always in short supply for her neighborhood. Something safe, lucrative, and quick. That's what she wanted. It's also the combination she knew well no one ever found, but she'd be happy enough with two out of the three.

 

[siobhancan99]

Days turned to weeks, with no jobs and no beautiful son of a count. Fall gave over rapidly into winter, but the shop was doing better. Milan had hired the boy on and was having him do a lot of the busy work, so Milan's slow pace wasn't as badly affecting the shop. Money trickled in a bit, and the vig on Milan's debts was vastly reduced with the payments Ziva was able to make from the first job.

As the first snow of ... mid autumn... fell over the city, Ziva sat outside and watched her breath frost in the air. A large carriage pulled up to the restaurant she'd reccomended, and out of it stepped a dark haired young man in fantastically expensive clothes, and an plain woman of about the same age, similarly dressed. Perhaps a wife. Not a sister as there wasn't any real resemblance. "I have it on authority that the food here is excellent" came the familiar voice. "Hopefully you like it." As the woman entered the shop the man's shoulders sagged a bit "Hopefully you like something in this City for the gods sake." Then he steeled himself and entered the tavern.

 

[DramaNerdette]

"Well well well, seems like there's trouble in paradise... That didn't take long." Ziva mused, as she considered her approach. As she saw it there were two ways this could go. She could show up as the baker girl, and give Silver Spoon and his blushing bride a hint as to her real life, or she could go as the fencer, and trust the people of the Crimson Hen not to blow her cover. It only took her a moment to decide on the fencer. She had helped the owner, Mikel, repair his brick oven once. He owed her enough to keep a reign on his curiosity, at least until he could get her alone the next morning during her deliveries. She turned and ducked into the bakery, "Tata? Be back in a bit, something has come up." Before she turned and went to the side alley and scrambled up to her rooftop shed to change.

Five minutes later, Ziva entered the Crimson Hen, and scanned the room, spotting the happy couple in one of the nicer booth being fawned over by Mikel. She picked out a booth across the room, clearly in the young nobleman's line of sight, but where the bride couldn't spot her. She went and slid into a chair, motioning for one of the waiters, Rosette. The girl looked at her like she was a lunatic, but came over. "What on earth are you wearing?"
Ziva grinned, "Don't worry about it, I'm sure Mikel will tell you later. For now, I need you to do me a big favor. Could you get a big slice of that honeycake I brought in this morning, and deliver it to that nobleman? Tell him it's a gift for Lord and Lady Spoon, in celebration of their nuptials."

Rosette looked doubtful, "This isn't going to get me fired or anything is it?"

"It won't get you fired, it'll be fine. That cake is fantastic, and if I'm right, he'll know what the message means. If he asks who sent it just say it's from his fencing partner, and point him my way."

"Ok, but if I get fired, I'm coming to stay with you and you'll have to take the floor."

"Fine fine fine, go on. And thanks." Rosette moved off back towards kitchen. Shortly after, she approached the noble couple, cake held before her like a barricade. Ziva couldn't hear her, but she did see the Count's Son scan the room, and lock eyes with her. She gave him a wink, and leaned back into her booth before the wife could notice her as well. Let him decide who to bring to her table if he wanted to actually talk.

 

[siobhancan99]

The Count's son rolled his eyes at her but smiled. He took the cake and shared it with his bride, then after eating got up and gestured for her to follow. He moved over to Ziva's table and sat after pulling out a chair for his wife. "Good evening" he nodded to Ziva "This is the person that recommended the tavern."

His wife smiled softly "well the food here is good at least, so thank you for that." The boy looked relieved at that. "We're in town for a few months. Ordinarily, a man my age would prove himself by going off to war or slaying a monster or something. Outside the City walls there are precious few monsters except of the human variety, and there are currently no wars" He shrugged "So i've come here to do a bit of delving in the underground, along with some other men of my station. Jereni came along with as we were just wed" He took the plain looking woman's hand and threaded his fingers through it.

"I must admit I'm not adjusting well. The City is so dirty and smokey. You can't really see the stars at night through the haze of the fires. It isn't like home" The woman seemed a bit uncomfortable at the hand holding, which was understandable given that her husband had voiced his suspicions that she not only had a paramour but a child with that paramour. Still she relaxed a bit and looked over at Ziva "but there are some nice things here. Good food at places like this, and some good music. I've been trying to get him to see this bard, Alain, who came through a few seasons ago to my father's lands. he claims to have no time for music though" She gave him a little smile, but it was tight.

"Well we should be going..." he stood and she moved to retrieve their cloaks. "I want you to look into this Alain for me" He slipped her a parchment with his own address on it, and a small bundle with 10 platinum coins in it. "I suspect he's the father. I don't mind if she has a lover but I'll be damned if i listen to the half ass singing of the man cuckolding me."

 

[DramaNerdette]

"I assume you just want information? Not for me to... do anything about him?" She looked at the address, before pocketing it. "I can do that. Fair warning though, if he's the...guilty party in the matter, then he's also wrapped up with a professional blackmailer. If she continues to see him, then all that effort to wipe out the evidence last time will come to nothing, and she'll be right back in the spot she was. Just saying. In the meantime, there's a small local place. Serves the best Krupnik you're likely to find, and I know the guys in the band. Not a single one is named Alain. It's a little... rowdier than your normal crowd, but if you like a good party, no place is better." Jereni returned with their coats, and Ziva stood, bowing oh so slightly. "Lord and Lady Spoons, it's been a pleasure. Let me know if you need another blade for your trip below. And ma'am, this city has it's treasures, but it's not the land or the sky. It's the people. I'd suggest the theater Lena's Aviary, they have a fantastic dance company, weekly plays. That's where you'll find your stars in the city."

Goodbyes said, the awkward couple left for their carriage and Ziva mused over her cup of wine, squeezing the small pouch of oh-so-valuable coin. It was more than she'd been paid for... anything really. Ever. Was this son of a count really so rich as to throw a mountain of money at a relatively simple job? Only perhaps it was not so simple after all, especially if he wasn't willing to let his brushing bride off the leash long enough for a tryst. Maybe she could speak with Jens-Dieter about it, he was sure to have a few ideas. Hopefully some of them wouldn't be to lambast her for taking another job from this crazy family. In her favor, at least she was paid up-front. On that alone, she already liked the young man more than his father-in-law. It wasn't moments later when Mikel pulled up a chair opposite her. "Ziva. What. In the hells. Is going on?" He asked, eyes wide, gesturing at her outfit, the blade on her hip, and the noble couple who just left his establishment.

"I don't know what you mean, and more importantly I'm POSITIVE that YOU don't know what you mean. This is just.. a sideline. A private one. Ok?" She looked at the gruff older man, pleadingly. He started to reply, when she slid one of the platinum across the rough wood of the table. "To replace the tiles over your spare room. So you can rent it out again," She said quietly. She knew it was implying that she was paying him for his silence. She hoped he understood she'd have given him the money either way. "Just... you've booked performers before. If I want to find a specific bard, one named Alain, where should I go looking?"

 

[siobhancan99]

mikel hmmmd. A plat was about ten gold, so not enough to tile but... definitely enough to pay a guy once he bought the tile. "done. you were never here" He grinned and leaned on the table a bit "A bard named Alain huh? You're not rich enough for the likes of him. He likes em well heeled. Well heeled enough to keep him in the fashion to which he is accustomed. He plays a little tavern up in the Eastern Rise, on the north end. The purple gryphon." She knew the place, it was near Yvginy's tower, where she'd been a few nights prior out of sheer boredom. It was a nice place, spacious. It had a double lot, so instead of the long thin lot that most establishments wrestled with in the city, with a narrow street frontage, it had a full fronting on the street and space for an actual stage. It was a good place to see a show, and the clientelle tended to be well to do, middle class. Not exactly wealthy but the kind of folk that weren't worried after money all day. Men of means. Artisans and the like. Clerks. "He plays the lute, and he sings. He's not half bad. He isn't going to get an invite to the Ducal palace any time soon, but he's good enough for your average baronial manor or wealthy merchant. Does too much foreign shit. He's from somewhere else. The accent helps him fool the girls into a bit of slap and tickle. He's also exotic looking. Redhead. Green eyes. Freckled. Not many go in for that but them that do... well." He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I'm going to say that this plat you gave me is also to not ask if this has anything to do with the rich boy and his new wife."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva raised her eyebrows, "As you like, but I figured common sense would cover that one. If rumors get out that the young man is investigating a philandering lutist, he'll go from a potential wealthy recurring client to an potential angry nobleman with a grudge, wondering where such rumors started. Best not to know. You know? That being said, thanks for the details on Alain, it's a big help." She slid out of her chair, and stood, giving Mikel's shoulder a little squeeze before she slipped out the back door.

The workday went by swiftly, her mind only mostly on her baking as the young woman considered how she might confirm, or not, Alain's guilt. The moment she finished cleaning the kitchenware, she gave her father a peck on the cheek, and fairly flew up the side of the building to get changed. The sun was properly down, finally, and it felt more like the city she loved. Dark, dangerous, and alive. The trek to the Purple Gryphon was beyond her usual haunts, excepting her occasional visits to the tower. The Gryphon itself was easy to sneak into. Clubs and the like always were, because if they didn't leave a window open somewhere near the roofline, the place would quickly become stifling with all the people. Doubly so if there was singing and dancing, which there was. Sadly, being a bit more upper-class, this wasn't the kind of place she could bring her sword or pistols. She'd stashed them in a gutter nearby. They'd be fine there for the night, or even a few days if things went really wrong and she couldn't retrieve them. The knives she hid in her boot, at the small of her back, and at the top of her spine, under her hair. She slipped in through the window, and climbed down using an artistic wall hanging that was mostly obscured by drapery and entirely in shadows. Once on the ground, she moved to a table in the back that one of the waiters was clearing, slipping him a gold for the spot before she sat in it, asking for a glass of wine. Then she waited for the show.

 

[siobhancan99]

A number of folks a the gryphon were armed, mostly with rapiers but some with cutlass. Few if any of the ladies, however, and so her decision to not be visibly armed and armored was a good one. The waiter nodded and brought her a glass of the best "Its a Plavac Mali, Simic vineyard of course", and 8 silver in change. the wine was full bodied, with blackberry and cherry notes and a good bit of alcohol.

A number of folks gathered around, and Alain appeared. He wasn't much to look at, being a ginger male and all. He was "ok" but when he spoke it was with a delightful soft accent, and his crowd banter was good. He sang a few songs, then made the crowd sing along. He had a way about him, drawing in people, telling jokes and sometimes making people in the audience the butt of them. All in all the performance was a good deal more than the sum of its parts, better than the singing, better than the jokes. Better even then the few simple magical tricks he pulled. He had a warmth, and an eye and ear for the crowd. His real attraction, as far as she could see, was his personality. He was at turns warm, bold, funny and demure depending on what the situation called for.

A number of the women in the audience, and not a few of the men were clearly entranced. During his breaks though, he was careful in who he gave his time to. Always wealthy, always a little plain. Nobody flashy or full of themselves. And when he spoke with someone, if someone else approached he was always clear that he would not interrupt his current conversations for an intrusion. Everyone was made to feel like they had his full and undivided attention.

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva found herself enjoying the performance, which she supposed she should have expected. He may have been forign born, but he had the good sense to sing songs either popular enough that they'd migrated to Gradzlata already, or with such catchy hooks that it didn't matter if anyone knew the song when it began, they knew it when it was over. She nursed her drink, unwilling to lose her edge to the party atmosphere completely.

She didn't bother trying to approach the man. She was a no-one in this crowd, and without the cash to pretend to the types of extravagance that seemed to draw the man. Instead, she watched the women he approached. Plain. Like Jereni. Wealthy, also like Jereni. Things weren't looking great for Alain. She waited till he began his final set began, stood, and spilled the remains of her drink in the middle of the walkway, before crossing the room to the door that should lead backstage. Sure enough, a minute later one of the attendants went through the door. She waited. Then he left, discreetly carrying a cleaning rag to deal with the mess. She caught the door with her toe before it shut, and slipped backstage.

The first door was a closet. The second led downstairs, storage, perhaps a wine cellar. The third had a nice paintjob and a shiny silver doorknob. Inside looked like the fanciest powder room she'd ever seen, and it was set up for a single person. It was rummaging time.

 

[siobhancan99]

The first thing she noted was a pile of letters, and a small collection of gifts left near the door. Probably from admirers. The gifts ranged from bottles of expensive wine to small figurines. Nothing absurdly expensive, but all pawnable for cash or even easily sold to someone interested in such things. A quick perusal of the letters showed a collection of admirers both male and female, lauding his shows and a few alluding to "the lovely afternoon we spent recently." Nothing particularly damning on its own, but all leading to the same conclusion she was already drawing. he used his charm and charisma to wheedle at the very least favors and presents out of people with more money than they might have confidence or self esteem.

Backstage she also found a rapier, made of mithril and worked through with runes. It was clearly enchanted and clearly expensive... and the floor around it was clearly magically alarmed with a set of glowing runes on the floor. touching it or moving it would likely alert the bard that he was being burgled. Also within the protection of the alarm was a pack. She could see sheets of music in it, and the glint of gold. Some chains. Jewelry was of course the best way to move large sums of money. IT was compact, and worth more than the weight of it on the open market as opposed to coinage. It seemed the performer was either living out of his packs, or always prepared to run.

There was also a scent in the air. The faint smell of vanilla, probably a scent worn by a wealthy patron who had lingered in the room earlier. The poor did not afford such scents.

 

[DramaNerdette]

She sighed appreciatively over the blade, but even if she COULD get out of here before he caught her, it wouldn't actually help her on the job. Oh well. One day she'd get her hands on a blade that nice. She started flipping through the cards and letters, looking for some hint that her client's wife was back to her bad mistakes. She considered briefly just sitting down and relaxing, waiting for the show to be over so she could have a nice little chat with Alain. No, no that didn't work out so well last time. Ziva sighed. Life would be so much easier if people could just be reasonable. This room... he wouldn't be using it for a living space. He likes to host, not be hosted. He's got a range of paramours, and they wouldn't want to all come to a rivals house, right? And he'd want a nice place to bring them, so it can't be here. Ziva could practically feel how late this night was going to be, but there was nothing for it. I slipped back out of the room, then backstage, and then left the club together, quickly retrieving my things before returning a rooftop across from the club, where I could see both the front and side entrances, ready to tail the bard to wherever he was laying his weary head.

 

[siobhancan99]

The bard did indeed leave late, in the company of a man and woman. He weaved as if inebriated, then when they split off from him he straightened and walked normally through the rise and down into the basin. Ziva followed him to a neighborhood mid basin. Not quite super dangerous but not safe either. She was able to shadow him and he returned to an apartment over an apothecary. She waited a few minutes, and was about to go in when she saw a carriage. An unfamiliar woman exited the carriage and entered the apartment after him. She saw the light of a fire in the window, and the couple spent an hour or two in loud rapturous engagement. As the cold nearly got to her, the woman left and the carriage returned for her. A few minutes later, Ziva was able to see the fire being banked and assumed the man was in for the night. The question remained, go in while he was there or return the next night during his performance?

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva considers the target, rubbing her shoulders. He had a magical alarm for his stuff, so there's no reason he wouldn't have one for his home too... but it's quite a ways from the stage to his front door. He might know he'd been burgled, but he wouldnt be able to do anything about it. If she snuck in now, there was every chance she'd end up waking him. A fight against that enchanted blade at best. Guards summoned in all likelyhood. Plus who knows what other tricks he might have up his sleeve if he could lay down an alarm for his equipment. She sighed, and headed back home. Better to return during his performance tomorrow. If she didn't find anything gone, she could always wait for the man to show. For now though, it was a long night, and it would be an early morning. She picked up the pace, and went to catch what little sleep she'd be able.

 

[siobhancan99]

The next day was surprisingly busy at the bakery. As word spread that things weren't as slow there, a few of the old customers had trickled back in. The extra money was for now a wash with the extra help, but as the boy got better at doing things the speed would probably pick up even more. As it was, Ziva was run ragged. At the end of the day she grabbed a few hours of sleep, then was able to head back to the apartment. She ran through what she knew about alarm spells. They could either make a sound and alert anyone around, or they could silently alert the spellcaster. If it was a sound, this was the sort of neighborhood that would ignore the sound. No neighbors were likely to intervene and the guard was there to make sure the place wasn't burning down. Her worst case scenario was maybe having to slip one some coin.

If it was a silent alarm, well the man was a good hour away by foot. She'd have plenty of time. When she got to the apartment she found it had a lock, which was not common. It wasn't a great lock though, and she was able to pick it fairly rapidly and unobserved. After stepping across the threshold she entered a dark apartment. Lighting a nearby candle, she threw a little light into the place. She could make out a fireplace, which she already knew about given the chimney placement. There was a large comfortable looking bed adorned with expensive sheets and some sort of bear rug. There was cookware with dust on it, clearly not often used. There was a large chest, unlocked, and in it disappointingly were clothes. The man had a lot of them. Really incredibly expensive clothes. If he spent less on them he could have a nicer place... but maybe they were gifts. She wasn't finding anything incriminating, but there were some loose boards...

 

[DramaNerdette]

"Huh. Well, here's hoping." She laid down on the floor, looking at the boards from the side, trying to see if there was any immediately obvious trap triggers if they were pried up. Then she took a few more minutes inspecting along the grooves. It was wasted time if she found nothing, but she knew deep in her heart the first time she didn't bother she'd get a rigged crossbow bolt in the ribs. Once it was clear, she slipped a dagger from it's sheath and started prying at the board, curious to see if there was anything hidden down there. She hoped so. If there wasn't, her next stop was bricks in the fireplace, and all that greasy soot was miserable to clean off, plus it left handprints everywhere.

 

[siobhancan99]

As she felt along the boards, she found small hole in one that would assist in pulling it up. She moves the boards easily and finds the trove she was looking for. A horde of gemstones, and letters. Tons of letters from admirers male and female, some just discussing the pleasure of his company and the razor nature of his wit. Some more graphic about his skill and tenderness as a lover. More than a few, however, mentioned another man that he introduced them too and how they 'could not thank Alain enough' for showing them their true soulmate. She found letters from the count's wife among the letters, but none of them seemed graphic or overtly sexual. She too mentioned the charming company of the half-elf Trinthalas Evershalashala. It had the ring of being an elven name but at the same time seemed like nonsense. The letter alluded to the salon where he and his fellow intellectuals met in the western rise every evening to discuss republican politics and new age spirituality. The Count's wife seemed quite taken.

Ziva knew that Alain was not the paramour. The question was answered. Further investigation might reveal more, but had she been hired for more? There was also the tempting sparkle of gemstones that would pay her father's debt off forever. Just glinting in the soft light of the candle.... there in her hands really.

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva's eyes lighted up at the gems, and she stared, long and hard. "Shit." She breathed, and made her choice. She took the letters from the wife, and the gems, and shut the hidey hole again. The retraced her steps out of the apartment, and back across town. On the way, she stopped at one of several old, abandoned homes in the basin, and climbed the rotting brickwork chimney carefully, feeling for loose chunks she could pull away. Once she found one, she poured some of the gemstones into the gap, and crammed the brick back in. She repeated the process at three more places. Another chimney, a loose roofing tile, and in the last case above the window casement. They wouldn't be secure for long, but the bard would be looking for them, and who knows what kind of magic he had access to. Better to not keep the gems on her person till she at least found a decent fence. Money stashed, she headed directly for the address Lord Spoons had given her. Sure, it was late, but if he could track the stones, he might be able to track a missing letter too. She'd find his place, sneak in and wake him up, and have a quiet little talk. Job done, client satisfied, surely.

 

[siobhancan99]

When she got to the address in the heights, it was after a carriage ride. The lordling of course had excellent digs. Not the nicest house in the heights, but in the heights. At this late hour, much of the smoke of the city had cleared as people's fires banked down to just coals. She could see the stars, framed by the heights of the mountains upon which the heights were perched. As she approached the house, two men stopped her. A knight in full plate, with a shield emblazoned with his heraldry gules two axes sable in full, per bend azure, over a bend argent. He towered over the girl, and made an impressive noise as he walked. His plate was worth a few years salary alone, and the sword at his side looked more serviceable than fancy. A man who worked for a living and still was successful enough to be armored to the fullest extent. "Evening young miss can I help you?" The voice seemed to say "I know I can't fucking help you" But with a quick explanation, Ziva was shown quietly into the house. The full helm hid was was likely a perturbed expression.

The young lordling was ushered downstairs by his butler, sleep toussled and in only a robe. He rubbed sleep from his eyes "well. I'm glad to see you. She's been pushing me to see this bard." He wandered over to a cloudy glass container full of wine. "the wine's good. Simic of Course. It's a white which aren't his best but its still worlds better than anything else in the valley. Of course Volks make the best white." He poured a glass for her, then one for himself. He moved over to sit in a large chair, away from the window where he could see the whole room and all the entrances. "So.... what have you found out then?"

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva had been quietly perusing a fortune worth of books on a shelf when the lordling arrived. Any random five of them were probably worth more than her father's bakery. They all possessed a thin layer of dust, as if the only time they were touched was during a full seasonal cleaning of the house. She didn't like the idea of books simply for display, but this was also a public greeting room, and who wanted to settle in with a good book out in public anyway? She turned and gave the lordling a tight nod. "It's a pleasure to see you again Lord Spoons...huh. You know, part of me feels like I should actually ask you what your name is at some point, but I feel like that'd ruin the fun, you know?" She grinned, and slid into a well over-stuffed leather chair with a back like a throne. The letters, the placed delicately on the table beside her. Her grin faded. "She's not sleeping with the bard. A bunch of women, and no small number of men, certainly are, but she is not. She does mention thanking him for helping her find her soulmate. I'm... sorry to have to tell you that. That kind of news sucks to hear, no matter what your..." Ziva glanced towards the stairs, as if she could see up to where the lordling's wife was sleeping, "...situation."

She took a small sip, barely touching her lips to the glass. It smelled amazing, though she was more familiar with local liquor than Simic wine. Not that she would actually risk drinking it till she saw him do the same. "Do you know the name Trinthalas Evershalashala? His name is mentioned, among a group of intellectuals, republicans, and spiritualists. If I had to guess, it's a fake name, but the man behind it is the one who charmed your wife." She glanced up, and caught the young man's eyes, saw the shadow of hurt flicker below the surface.

"Are you ok?" She asked, softly.

 

[siobhancan99]

He frowned a moment "of course I'm ok. It's a marriage of convenience. I wasn't a virgin when I married her." He stood and sipped his wine, looking over the bookshelf. "I mean..." he started and stopped "It's such a ridiculous thing. We're ... like prize ponies or something." He considered a bit. "or just... like in my case, cementing some unwritten contract between our fathers." He set his glass down and turned to face her "There's a family up north, at the edge of the Duchy. They marry their sons off to whatever girl has the biggest strongest brothers, and over time they've bred themselves into great hulking slabs of muscle. A little dumb, very strong. No pedigree. They breed for fighting. There's trolls up there. You need to be strong. And there's no real... eye towards a happy union so much as the thought that the baron needs a strapping set of sons in case a few of them die. A lot of feudal lords are like that. Marry your son to your best knight's daughter in the hopes your grandson is equally as deadly. Like breeding dogs for various purposes. Big ones to chase off wolves and little ones to be ratters. Like that. Otherwise... you marry your daughters off to key men in your fiefdom. Your barons, or if you're a baron your knights. Maybe the Count one county over. If you're lucky, she catches the eye of the Duke. It's all very cynical. It's all very... you won't go to war with your cousin or your father in law. It's designed to trap people with another layer of loyalty. There's no real illusions there about personal happiness. Honestly, I had a shot at it but my older brother killed himself. Can't ressurect the unwilling. I was supposed to be a priest. Second son, off to the lawgiver. Half the bishops in the world are Duke's progeny. Or King's. I'd have married some wealthy merchant's daughter and tended to a flock somewhere. All very... common. But... my wife and I have obligations. I suppose I fooled myself into thinking that maybe within those obligations there might be a match. That we might have the privilege of living as ordinary people live. I actually like her as a person. I suppose it was unrealistic of me to expect that she'd extricate herself from her affair, particularly what with there being a child somewhere."

He poured himself another glass of wine "In a few days, my friends and I will go into the underground to ... kill some monsters and come back real men or some sort of machismo fueled bullshit. We could all die and it would be very tragic. I mean until some wizard found my body and some priest was paid disgusting sums to rip my soul from the peace of heaven." He shook his head "But until I return my wife will need an escort. A woman, or two women would be best..."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva smiles a soft little smile. Not a mocking smile, but one of shared understanding. "It's funny how the world works. I'm a poor girl from the poor end of town. You're born to massive wealth. We're both swimming against the tide of our father's expectations. Or... I am. I think you wish you could but... I think your tide might be stronger as well. My father, he's been begging me to get hitched instead of doing, well..." She gestures at herself, and then at the room, allowing circumstances to explain what words wouldn't. "So... I guess my advice, my utterly unsolicited and possibly unwelcome advice, is to give it time. Give her time. Most importantly though, give yourself time. Things are turning out like you'd hoped. It makes it really hard to see how things might still turn out ok, when that happens."

The young woman swirled the wine in her glass, then drank it back all at once. "You married a person that you like. The person you married is capable of love. Your wife wouldn't be the first person to get taken in by con artists striking at people when they feel vulnerable, so don't hold that too much against her." She leaned back in her chair, thinking the problem of this young man's life through, "I think it's a bit like baking a cake. You've got the right ingredients, but if you try to scarf it down right now, it'll just be a gross mess. Give it time and care? You might end up with something delicious. But the thing we need to watch out for is something that can ruin anyone's cake. Finding a strange man's dick in it." She stood, and nodded to the lordling. "I know a woman or two who would be happy to escort your wife. And if, during the escorting, some asshole con artists happen to trip and fall down onto a brace of daggers? Well, the world would likely be better off." She held out her hand to the young man, offering to accept the deal, without even payment yet having been discussed.

 

[siobhancan99]

"Banimir. My name is Banimir. And yours?" He took her hand and shook it. "There's a matter of being dressed for the part. I'm sure my wife will take you in hand for that. There's a fairly unlimited budget for outfitting you. You would stay here at the house, of course, and there will be a generous stipend for walking around money in addition to your salary. 20 gold a week for your salary, and the same if you bring a friend. As for finding a strange man's dick in my cake well. Maybe I'd like that" he waggled his eyebrows at her a moment then laughed "I mean I wouldn't but you don't know. I might have liked it. I mean I was a cloistered priest trainee for a while. Might not be my first." He winked at her and poured himself another wine. "If you give me an address I can have the carriage come collect you tomorrow, unless you feel like making the walk. Up to you really."

 

[DramaNerdette]

She snorted a laugh, burying her face in her other hand as they shook. "Fine, but I'm not a bit fan of conmen. If I get to cause problems for the one who used your wife's good nature against her, I'll do so and consider it a public service, no matter how much you like dick-cake. I'm Ziva, item relocator extrordinaire. Pleased to finally meet you, Banimir." The young woman stood and stretched, tired from two long nights and not really looking forward to telling her father he'd have to put up without her help for a few weeks. "Payment at the start of each week, and I've got a few things I need to take care of first, so I'll see you here tomorrow evening." She stepped up close to Banimir's chair, and delicately took his wine glass. Raised it to her lips for a small sip, before setting it back down. "You know, I wasn't sure about this stuff, but I think it's growing on me. Huh." She turned and walked out the door without another word.

It was late, but that was the job sometimes, and her night wasn't over. She made her way back across town, but not home. Not yet. Instead she made her way to Yvginy's tower, and pounded on the door. The dour Volk was none too happy, but business was business, and she didn't ask for much. A message to Ulricha, to meet the next morning at the bakery, and the name of a fence who could be trusted to purchase some very hot gems on short notice. Then she went home, hoping the two or three hours of sleep she'd get before sunrise would be enough to keep her sharp.

 

[siobhancan99]

As she was still young, the 3 hours were enough, though barely. Her father seemed to take a perverse delight in running her ragged that morning. He had her going all over town, and by the time lunch rolled around and the bakery started to lull, she was bone weary. Ulricha appeared and leaned against the counter, her broad shoulders tilted towards the diminutive rogue. "You look like shit" She said, without bothering with her normal ruse of being a big stupid barbarian Volk. "The Chernok said you wanted to meet. Did you miss me so much?" She fluttered her eyelashes at Ziva, then laughed "I was not too busy so I thought I might come see what you do here." She smiled over at Milan. "who is the bachelor? Does he want a strong Volkish wife?" She grinned and put a copper on the counter, snagging a roll and biting into it. "If he bakes like this at home I'll marry him. i'll give him a son too." She winked and laughed as Milan turned red. "then he could marry you off to some rich boy and still have an heir to carry on with the bakery. Can you imagine me in an apron all covered in flour, calling after our son? We could name him Franz after my own father." She laughed and then straightened "But for real, let us go talk about whatever it is you have to talk about, unless I am finally able to make prophecies and you really did ask me to come meet your father."

 

[DramaNerdette]

"Oh good, I was hoping that how I looked would match how I felt." Ziva blushed, a stab of... was that jealousy? Why would she be jealous of Ulricha paying so much attention to her father instead of her? Then a mental image of the two women waving goodbye to Milan as they went off adventuring, leaving him with now two to worry over appeared in her mind, and she burst into mad giggles. It took her a minute to regain her composure, wiping tears from her eyes. "Ahhh, sorry, sorry, I'm just... whew. Tata's a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to his ladyfolk, but since you asked, this IS our home. So yes, I can say for sure he does bake like that here." She turned to her father, "Tata, I've got a job to help that will last a few weeks, but I will send home money. It should be nothing dangerous, and it's in the city, so I'll stop by when I can." She gave him a hug, and responded to his worried grumbles with calm assurances, like always, till at last she left the shop. "Come with me, I need some help, on two separate things."

Ziva took Ulricha around to the alley out back, and climbed up to her shack like a pro. Ulricha was a little slower, not knowing the handholds as well, but managed just fine. The smaller woman, grabbed her stuff, and hesitated, not used to having someone around when she slipped from one life to the other, but she shook away the nerves, and stripped down, changing into her fighting leathers, and gearing up, checking the charges on her pistols and the looseness of her sheaths. "Whew. Ok. So, the first thing is that I got my hands on some gems last night. I need to pick them up from where I hid them, and I was hoping for a little backup in case the aggrieved party managed to track down the stashes. The second thing is a longer job. Remember that guy I got into a swordfight with that I was telling you about? When we were rescuing Jens-Dieter? That whole thing was over some blackmail someone had on his now-wife. He's about to go do some stupid manly manhood fighty thing down in the underground, and wants some ladies to watch his wife and keep her out of trouble till he gets back. The salary was stated at twenty gold, but words like 'generous walking around money' and 'unlimited outfitting budget' were also thrown about, so it's likely going to be decently profitable. And... frankly I could use someone clever I can trust." she grinned, waggling her eyebrows at the blond.