Morrigan - Hannover has been my home for seven and twenty years. In all that time I never imagined I would have reason to set foot on the Sagar estate, but here I sit on the arm of a decorated solder near the head of the table. How had I come to deserve such favor.
I had opened with a line that worked more than it failed. “I’m three gold shy of making my rent this month, if you could see it in your heart to help a girl out, I’ll be your girlfriend for an hour.” The approach left an avenue. A man could easily find a reason to spend and hour with a pretty girl. Conversely he could avoid impropriety in two ways. With a donation or to directly decline. Many of the girls on the boulevard used similar tactics.
When the veteran soldier took my hand I counted myself money ahead for the day. He and his compatriots had secured lodging at the Tipsy Crow. Mandy, the bartender, was courteous enough to treat me like a lady while I was in the company of the gentlemen. Most nights my coin wasn’t good enough to rent a bar stool.
The solder Tagaern, was kind a generous as we shared a table and stories with his friends and the many strangers that inhabited the pub that evening. The moody gunslinger seemed to come to life in the embrace of the tavern. His purse commanding the occupants of the small hall to wear their best humor. Drinks and food flowed to the table with a regularity I had not seen before. These men were an odd lot. The silent leader was caster type. I had seen plenty of his type here in the city. The girls on the street call his type weavers. Normally I am uncomfortable around his type, but I felt at ease in his company.
The hunter in their group quietly enjoyed his companion's joviality. Sweat stains ringed the leather of his clothing, matching his rough and uncultured nature. He excused himself from the gathering to look in on his beast of a wolf that paced in the courtyard. I am surprised the guards allowed such a monstrous creature in the city.
Danin, the charming but taciturn dwarf, bantered with the beautiful maid Silah. Though she shared an arm with the Half-orc it seemed the dwarf was commaning more of her attention than was comfortable. Most quietly ignored the undercurrent, I couldn’t help but observe the growing rift.
Hakaar’s bruised feelings were comforted by the free flowing ale and spirits. His hard and foreboding exterior was considerably softened in his vulnerable stormy eyes.
“We have heard a lot about this place call the Middle Market. What do you know about it?” My new friends asked. A full belly and a head for of liquor clouded my thought as I began to spill information that I would normally reserve only for my closest of confidants.
“It’s not a place I would wander into without a good contact or a purpose for my visit.” As part of my warning I divulged that an associate of mine was in hiding in the market due to a job-gone-bad. As it turns out, the dwarf Danin had been looking for her as a part of his duties with the church of Derrum Ebbar. Unable to gracefully extract myself from the conversation I spilled what information I knew regarding the market and Carlotta Devanour. My seat at the head table of the Sagar banquet was well worth my disclosure. I may well be back on the streets tomorrow, but for tonight I will make sure the man on whose arm I cling does not regret his choice to turn my rags to princess riches for a night.