[Ridge]
"Roley. I wondered where you'd gone off to," The man purrs, "Tire of your little parlor tricks?" Raforn starts to stand but Caroley grabs his hand and gently leads him back down to his seat.
"Nice of you to check in, Mr. Morin. I'll be ready for my fight shortly, and on time as usual." She addresses him without looking behind her. The man ignores the blatant dismissal.
"I have no doubts." His gold plated cane methodically thuds against the ground as he moves closer, "Who are your friends? Introduce me."
Caleigh pipes up, "These are Forn's friends, they're just passing through town." She delegates sweetly. Mr. Morin's beady eyes scan her face uninterestedly. Her shoulders hunch over in response to his scrutiny.
Mr. Morin must be the owner, considering the tavern is called Morin's Midnight. His look of disinterest in Caleigh might be genuine, but his nervous eyes can't keep from constantly darting back to Caroley. He feels the need to check in on her? More like keeping her in check, I can spot an inferiority complex when I see one. Now that I have some context I lean in towards Kadeeth, making the motion as minute as possible, and barely visible.
"Is Morin a Noble name?" I whisper. He slightly nods his head.
Caroley watches our exchange curiously but doesn't expose it. She either has her hands full trying to keep Raforn in his seat and not wrapped around Mr. Morin's throat, or she has no desire whatsoever to suck up to her boss. Judging from what we've seen so far, I'd say it's probably the latter. The girls are definitely not on good terms with this man.
"Won't you men stay for the entertainment before you leave?" He asks, voice dripping in enough honey to make you feel sick.
"I'm afraid we're here for business, not pleasure." Kadeeth admits.
"Well, I am a businessman, myself. So who am I to stop you?" Mr. Morin grinds out, annoyed at being turned down. Then his snake eyes narrow and something sharp and dangerous flashes across his sickly face, "However, I'm sure we could do our own business, if you don't find what you're looking for among our ladies?"
I consider it for a moment. He may seem like a sleaze and a scam artist, but he's still a Noble. One of our goals was to recruit Nobles in order to exert their influence for the war. Is he even someone with enough power to be of benefit? A Noble whose name doesn't even ring a slight bell?
"Thank you for the offer, we'll keep it in mind." Kadeeth answers calmly, imitating his indifference. The tall man gleams with amusement.
"I'm afraid I was addressing your boss, young Lord Kadeeth." He fixes his eyes on me, tapping his cane in victory, "The one who has been eyeing me like a threat from the moment I opened the door." He says thoughtfully. Kadeeth doesn't seem too shocked that this man knows his name without us telling him, have they met before? Surely I would've at least HEARD of him if he'd interacted with Kadeeth?
"It's a decision to be made later. We have prior interests that need to be explored first." I supply off handedly. I keep my hard gaze locked on him, using the stoic face and intimidating glare I've so carefully cultivated while training to become a Knight to make my voice seem even more powerful than his. He doesn't ignore my dismissal.
"Wonderful. Allow me the chance to steal this transaction should it fall through. I do hope we'll meet again soon." He says stiffly, showing himself to the door. He produces a ring of keys and selects a red one, relocking the door behind him. The room remains silent until the tap of his cane is consumed by the cheering crowd outside.
"Boss? He called you my BOSS?" Kadeeth mumbles, dumbstruck. His eyes are glazed over, and he rocks side to side in a slight stupor.
"A Noble who runs an underground fight ring and does business with commoners and women?" I lift an eyebrow at Caroley.
"Oh, dear." Caleigh sighs, "I'll go get us some drinks." She scurries out of the room. Caroley's eyes are already on me, she seems tired, not like the usual energetic woman I've come to recognize.
"Viscount Kedcoe Morin." She fumbles her smoker back out her pocket and beckons at Tellur. He quickly reaches back into his shoe and tosses her the matchbox, "The gutter rat of the Nobles."
Raforn doesn't protest when she lights the roll this time, too busy focusing on collecting his own wits after the owner's surprise visit. She throws the box back to Tellur, who, quiet as ever, tucks it away and leans in to listen intently. The whole sofa creaks under his weight.
She continues, "If you think about it, his ideals aren't that bad. He's progressive, doesn't care who you are, or what you believe, he'll accept it all- no questions," She exhales, "As long as it makes him money.
"The bastard deals with all kinds of shady people on the side. Criminal guilds, spies, assassins, you name it. He's fairly good to us here, a lot of women who want to fight flock to Rancid just for a spot in his arena. The problem is that once you're here for a while you start noticin' his other misdeeds, meetings with known crime lords, lunches with big cases of paper, that kind of thing. It's stressful, makes you develop a certain distaste for the man.
"Although, his connections are no joke. He has ties to the entire underground of the Empire. Anything that happens, you betcha that man heard it first." She shakes her head and sips on the withered smoker pressing against her teeth. The door opens and closes, Caleigh whisking through while effortlessly balancing a tray packed full of drinks, mostly water I notice. She must have her own key. She sets the tray on the short table in front of everyone and reclaims her seat.
"Now, let's continue." She cheers. Caroley nods and extinguishes the lasting stump of the smoker on the bottom of the table, tossing it perfectly into a waste bin near the door.
"Now that I've wasted my smoke on the stress from that old geezer, let's get down to business, ey?" She smiles, her powerful aura returning full-force. Viscount Morin may own this place, but something tells me he's not the one running it. A boss means nothing if the employee's loyalty decides who has the power.
"Right." I lean forward, copying Tellur and placing my elbows on my knees, "We're here to recruit you for our effort against the war waged on the Empire now that we've been invaded." I think for a minute before tacking on, "Right, I should start with this- we've been invaded..."