The House of Respite

[The Forgotten God]

It’s been six months since the return from al-Khial, and the returned adventurers now have songs sung of their exaggerated deeds courtesy of their resident songbirds. Ceutinde’s charity brothel’s business has increased considerably, even as jealous or corrupt officials seek ever more aggressive ways of forcing her near-monopoly on legitimate nighttime entertainment into bankruptcy.

Chief among these rivals remains the combination of the Aurelion and Lockhart families, their agents seeking to undermine the reputation of the city’s famed philanthropist, as well as seeking anything possible to bring down her allies. Lord Eustace in particular has grown more and more zealous, as three of his relatives have suffered a series of increasingly gruesome murders in and out of the city.

[Ceutinde]

Security had been stepped up, of course. Twice as many bouncers patrolled the HoP&RfOH as had half a year earlier, and several mages were employed to keep an eye on the customers and their states of minds.

The proprietess made a point of being seen. During the day, Ceutinde treated patients, and at night, she led the revels upstairs. Or at least, she was seen doing so often enough that it would seem unlikely she was fighting a war in the shadows.

But tonight was an actual night off. She'd invited the companions from Al-Khial (she certainly would not be referring to them as the Mighty Thornhearts) to share a drink in one of the House's more private reception rooms (Dress code: semi-formal, setting: plush, bar: open, food: finger). It had been months since they'd gotten together, after all.

[Kjell Ó Raghallaigh]

The short-for-an-elf sniper walked into the establishment, made quick work of locating the nearest bar and headed towards it. Every other step or so, a tiny red bead rolled down the back of her neck. Some of them slipped under the tightly fastened collar of her duster coat, others rode all the way to the coattails before dropping to the ground and leaving behind a modest trail of blood. Once at the bar, she took off her hat. "Evenin'," she said to the nearest bartender with a lopsided smile. The left side of her face twitched every now and then. "I was told this is the place to go if you need a little patchin'." For a moment, she considered the bottles on display, drumming her three fingers on the counter. "I'll have a whiskey and some stitches."

[The Forgotten God]

The bartender just tilts his head like a confused puppy at the bleeding elf. “Errr,” he said. “Yes, yes!” He said. He somehow poured the drink. “Come on, the lady’s this way,” he said. He made a silent motion for a server to clean up the blood. It was bad for business.

It only takes a moment for the bartender to tap on the door to the private room. “Ma’-‘!” He shouted. “There’s someone needs your help right now!”

[Ceutinde]

Ceutinde perked up her ears and rushed out the door, assuming the worst. She almost laughed when it turned out to just be Kjell being Kjell. Though to be fair, that did result in her nearly bleeding out about as often as not. Approaching the smaller elf, she gave her a look over, trying to figure out the source of the blood trail behind her.

"What happened, dear? Pick a fight with a wizard again?"

[Tehol Nookington]

Tehol sits back in one of the big plushy chairs in the private room with his boots up on an ottoman as he warms up by the fire. Cyntheria a little larger then she was a couple months ago sits on the backrest of the chair snoozing while Korabas curls up in front of the fire with his heads resting in the hollow created in the middle of his wound up body.

[Kjell Ó Raghallaigh]

Kjell drank the whiskey at a leisurely pace at the bar as she waited for the bartender to return with a healer. There looked to be a poorly sewn wound at the back of her head, some of the stitches had come apart probably not for the first time. She turned around as she was spoken to and looked at the taller elf. There was no recognition in her eyes. "Not that I recall," she replied. "I tried to fix it, but the angle's kinda bad." She brought her fingers to the sutures as if to prove her point, then shrugged, smiled, and sipped from the glass.

[Ceutinde]

Ceutinde decided to not even bother with trying to inspect the wounds. With this sort of head injury, there tended not to be a mundane solution. She just took a deep breath, reached up to touch Kjell's cheek, and shut her eyes before mouthing a few words of prayer.

(Cast Gift of Sylveria to heal up to 30HP)

[The Forgotten God]

Kjell’s head stitched up immediately, but Ceutinde feels something odd as she heals her that defies cursory examination. Kjell faintly remembers seeing faces like these before but names and context are just dust in the wind.

[Justine-Juliette de Vair]

Justine had stayed on with Ceutinde. She had been told (playfully of course) she wouldn’t be allowed to leave until she was cured...and she really didn’t see that happening anytime soon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it either: to be cured meant losing half of herself, troublesome as that half was.

Anyway, tonight she was just glad the mirrors had been moved or covered for the evening. Private parties were always best for that. Dressed in a slinky aubergine velvet number, Justine kept her back to the bar and watched everyone enter. It was good to see all of them, after all.

“Evenin’, Tehol. Kjell.” She watched Ceutinde magically patch the gunner up. That didn’t really get old. She gestured for a glass of wine.

[Silvia Raizer]

Silvia strode into the establishment. She had returned to the city just a few days ago. She had dressed for the party in a brocade coat of midnight blue, with a frilled shirt of white silk, and dark breeches tucked into tasselled leather boots. Her ensemble was completed by a black hat with a pale blue feather, her lute and, of course, her fancy sword.

[Kjell Ó Raghallaigh]

Jan 31, 2021 22:00:40 GMT The Forgotten God said:

Kjell’s head stitched up immediately, but Ceutinde feels something odd as she heals her that defies cursory examination. Kjell faintly remembers seeing faces like these before but names and context are just dust in the wind.

Kjell ran her fingers over the back of her head again, very much impressed with the result. "Damn," she said. That had been one mean headache.


So, the elf seemed kind of familiar and that other woman knew her name. She wiped her bloody fingers on her thigh as she gave the place another casual once-over. No hits on Google. "Been a while," she said, turning back to the healer without quite knowing what it was that it had been a while from. "What do I owe you?"

[Ceutinde]

Ceutinde just shook her head, confused. "Nothing, dear. You know better than that. Is there something else wrong?" She glanced toward Justine and the rest, an eyebrow raised.

[Kjell Ó Raghallaigh]

Kjell processed this for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder. "Didn't want to assume," she replied, following the healer's gaze to... whoever they were.

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix," she said in response to the question and motioned at the bartender for a refill. As she did so, she seemed to notice the two finger stumps on her left hand. "Well, except for that. Guess I'm stuck with those," she offered with half a smirk. "But really, thank you."

[Ceutinde]

"I wouldn't recommend sleep right away." Ceutinde patted Kjell on the back. "But do you have somewhere to stay? You're more than welcome to a bed here, if you want." Not to mention a little observation probably wouldn't hurt to make sure she wasn't totally out of sorts. "It's good to see you again, dear."