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* Jewel sits at the desk, going through inventory ledgers for her shop. A mug of tea sits cooling at her elbow, and the amount of doodling on the notepad in front of her is testimony to how long she's been at this. Her eyes look a little hollow, as if she's not been sleeping well. <Dawn> ::The air in the center of the room sparks briefly, and then with an audible *pop* of displaced air, Dawn and Angel appear.:: * Jewel starts at the sound and whirls, her bodice knife poised for a throw in the tips of her fingers. <Angel> ::mid-sentence as if finishing a conversation:: -and a more *worthless* batch of no-nothings I've never had to deal with. ::he looks disgusted and dusts off his vest:: * Jewel sags back against the chair, making her knife disappear again. "Sweet gods of light... you could have *warned* me!" * Angel looks at Dawn. "Didn't I tell you to make bells ring first? Or trumpets, maybe? A nice rousing fanfare might make for a good, dramatic entrance." <Dawn> How d'you reckon we could've done that, gorgeous? ::he gives Angel a wounded look:: I don't do bells. I did give her a little sparkly fire to catch her attention. * Jewel sets her pen down and crosses her arms. "*That* was supposed to catch my attention? The big loud bang, *that* caught my attention." <Dawn> ::sighs:: No fucking way to avoid that. <Dawn> You want our reports that you're paying for, or not? * Jewel runs both hands through her hair, gripping it for a moment as if trying to hold on to her temper. She lets go again with a sigh, dropping her hands into her lap. "You've found something on him, then?" <Angel> ::snorts:: No. <Dawn> ::tips his hand back and forth:: Maybe. <Jewel> ::blinks, looking back and forth between them questioningly:: <Angel> However, the very lack of findings makes my scalp itch... ::stretches his back, cracking several vertebras at once:: * Dawn flops into a chair and puts his foot up on the table. "You want to start, or me?" <Jewel> ::scowling a little:: Don't talk to me about scalp-itching. ...it's cold out, would you like some tea? Brandy? <Angel> You start... I think I've got fleas from that damn inn. You talk, I'm taking a bath. ::he pulls the screen around the tub:: <Dawn> Brandy would be fucking fantastic, gorgeous... ::he frowns, scratching at his face while he orders his thoughts:: * Jewel nods and goes to the sideboard, pouring out three generous snifters and carrying them back, handing one to Dawn. <Dawn> Let's start with... The only Flavian Bonesteel that Suzail has on record died about two hundred years ago. The Bonesteels were a minor noble family; the last was one Thaddeus who, word has it, got his britches all in a bunch about his wife having some fun with the hired help. He up and left town in a snit. <Jewel> ::blinks:: But... Mama said he was educated in Suzail, but from around home... where'd this Thaddeus move to? How long ago? <Dawn> ::he takes a quick gulp of the brandy, then breathes out slowly:: Ahhh... Good stuff. Thanks. If you'd let me *finish*? I can't do it all on one breath. <Dawn> Now, where was I...? Ah, yes. M'lady Bonesteel was childless, before she disappeared, so if he had a kid after he left Cormyr, it wasn't hers. And yes, he moved to Arabel -- maybe Angel has more about what happened out there. <Dawn> But M'lord Thaddeus was a bit of a mage, it seems. I wasn't able to find out whether he was just a tinkerer with some nice toys he'd picked up, or if he actually had some real power. But at the very least, he had a few fucking lovely toys. Magic, at the least. Superb craftsmanship, too -- dwarven or gnomish, at a guess. * Angel checks the temperature of the water in the tub and grimaces. "Ug. I hate cold baths. What sort of toys, Dawn? I missed this bit." He grimaces again and climbs into the tub, wincing. "Ug. I hate little country inns." <Dawn> Most notably, a set of clockwork dancing girls, each of which took her turn on a specific hour. Friend of his took a liking to them, you see. Commissioned a thief to snitch 'em, but it didn't work. Bonesteel left town with them, it seems. <Dawn> That was all... Oh, before *my* time, or at least, while I was still a green apprentice. But there's the lovely bit. Just a few years ago, a kid showed up and bargained for a 'prenticeship with that very same old friend -- kid calling himself Flavian Bonesteel, and his apprentice-price? Couple of dancing girls a year. <Angel> ::dumps a bucket of water over his head:: Flip's not Bonesteel's son. He's the son of a pair of thieves. They posed as servants to the rich and idle to clean them out. <Jewel> ::purses her lips in a soundless whistle:: So... he... ::frowns in thought:: He's a thief? ::looks towards the screen:: Flip? <Dawn> ::nods:: I was assuming he was a thief of some sort... ::takes another sip of brandy, waving a hand vaguely to cede the floor to Angel:: <Angel> That I'm unsure of, my lady. His mother died in childbirth, so goes the story. His dad... stayed on as Bonesteel's servant, for the sake of the boy. I'm not entirely sure, there might have been some coercion there... <Angel> Whether he took after his parent's line of work or not, my informant couldn't say... or didn't. <Jewel> Coercion? Of Bonesteel? Or the... you said he was a thief, posing as a servant? But... damn. ::sounding surprised:: Well, maybe he was good at his cover job, too? * Angel scrubs his hair for a second time. "Hang on a moment, my lady. This is confusing and boring." <Dawn> You have to be, to play a game like that. Fucking dangerous, it is. <Jewel> ::amused tone:: Oh, by all means. After all, I'm paying you to bore me. ::smiling a little, her good humor coming back:: <Angel> You asked for information. The quality of storytelling is not my fault. * Angel takes a deep breath and slides underneath the water, hopefully missing any blistering reprimand sent his way by his oh-so-lovely-and-tactful wife. That the water is stone cold is a mixed blessing. <Jewel> ::mutters:: Well, it's not like I sent the Talarins... <Dawn> ::grins into his brandy:: A good thing. On many levels. <Jewel> ::sniffs:: Master Kevil *can* be quite charming. Although... ::grinning a little:: You're probably right. A good thing. * Angel surfaces again noisily and with a good deal of creative cursing that would, perhaps, even blister Snowman's ears. * Jewel winces a little. <Dawn> Oh, look. He's clean enough to bitch about the cold water. Go boil him a kettle, gorgeous, so he'll just get on with it. <Angel> Oh, stuff it, Dawn. ::gets out of the tub and wraps a towel around his waist, shivering:: <Dawn> ::grins and sips his brandy:: * Jewel looks contrite as she gets up to fetch Angel a warm robe, bringing it to him with his glass of brandy. * Angel slips into the robe and rubs at his arms briefly before taking the brandy and knocking most of the glass down in one swallow. "Thank you." <Angel> Now... here's where the story gets complicated. Jammer and Chick were Flavian's parents. They named him after some guy from Bonesteel's family, no indication as to why. <Jewel> Jammer and Chick were... the servant-thieves? <Angel> ::nods:: They were. Chick died in childbirth, according to their outside man, one fragrant fellow who calls himself Yash. <Angel> Jammer decided to stay on, as a servant, for Bonesteel. The boy was born early and weak and Bonesteel was apparently helping to pay for his care... although it seems to me that there might have been something else going on. * Jewel raises an eyebrow, heading back into the main room with Angel's glass to refill it with a generous tot, coming back to settle down on the couch. "'Something else...?' Any ideas?" <Angel> I don't know. ::towels his hair briskly:: Anyway, seven years ago, Bonesteel died, Jammer disappeared, and Flip ran off to become a jeweler's apprentice. <Angel> That's the official story, at any rate. ::he comes out from behind the screen looking a little more domestic than usual, robed and damp:: <Dawn> That's two disappearances in one story. I don't care much for the coincidence. What's your man say about foul play? <Jewel> ::looking from Angel to Dawn:: ...using the dancing girls. Master Pimsleur, then, was the "friend" who hired the thief who failed? ::shakes her head, muttering:: ...who lived in the house that Jack built... <Jewel> Two...? Oh! The wife. She didn't run off, then? <Dawn> ::nods to Angel:: The very man. <Dawn> ::to Jewel:: Well, she disappeared. No evidence of foul play, and it got out that she'd run off with a servant. Especially after the old idiot up and fired every last one. <Angel> She most certainly did not run off. Trust me on this, I was *overly* thorough on this. I tracked down every blessed one of the old Lord's servants. They're all accounted for. <Dawn> ::raises an eyebrow:: Well. That presents a couple of rather gruesome questions. ::sighs:: I'm going to have to visit Master Pimsleur, I think, and convince him to show me his collection. <Jewel> ::narrowing her eyes thoughtfully:: You got suspicious... hm. <Angel> ::grumbles:: I don't like things that don't make sense. There's got to be some connection, but damned if I can see what it is. <Jewel> So... let me make sure I've got this? Bonesteel senior lives in Suzail. Wife disappears. He fires the servants, moves to... ::swings her finger to point at Angel:: Arabel. <Dawn> ::nods:: <Angel> Where he adopts the son of a pair of thieves. Dies. And the boy's father disappears. Mysteriously. <Angel> Not to mention the whole nonsense with 'Dead Fred's Pile' and the missing treasure. <Jewel> In Arabel, he hires two servants-who-aren't-servants, Jammer and Chick. Chick gets pregnant and... dies in childbirth. ::swallows a little heavily:: Father and son stay on-- ::stops:: he formally adopted him? So the boy's not just a thief, after all? <Jewel> ::blinks:: Dead Fred's... what? <Angel> The house. Colorful name, isn't it? <Jewel> ::arches an eyebrow:: If I wasn't *certain* of who I was paying for this, I'd swear you were having me on. That's the house Bonesteel moved to? Where? This is in Arabel? <Angel> According to local mythology, there was this mage, hundreds of years ago, who lived there - the locals tell there was a lot of disappearances then, too. Anyway, he apparently left some enchanted snuffbox behind, the key to his treasure room. The locals have been over that pile of rocks a hundred times or more, never found anything. I called it to mind, especially, when my lady told me of her premonitions. * Jewel nods and hugs herself, suppressing a shiver. "I had it twice more, when you were gone. Same dream. Nightmare. What-have-you." <Dawn> ::frowns and runs his fingers through his hair:: Wonder if our young, enterprising thief happened to find something... off. While he was ransacking Bonesteel's stores. <Angel> ::shrugs:: I don't *know*. Damnit. Lady Bonesteel vanished *before* Bonesteel moved to the Pile. Too many coincidences... <Jewel> The boy, you mean? ::looks back and forth between them:: Does anyone know what this box was supposed to do? I keep *seeing* a box. Or... I *think* it's a box, when it isn't a skull, or a handful of poisonous snakes... <Dawn> Right. ::eyes Angel:: What if *you* went to visit Pimsleur, and *I* went to check out the damned house? * Angel thuds his fist into his palm a few times. "I wish there was some way to talk to *Bonesteel*." <Dawn> ::frowns:: Wait. Fred... *Frederach*? <Angel> ::nods:: Yes. No family name that I could find, no connection to the Bonesteels at all, save that Lord Bonesteel bought the Pile. <Jewel> ::looks at Angel oddly for a moment:: There... *might* be.... <Jewel> ::looks at Dawn:: Something ring a bell? Or... make little sparklies? ::grins sourly:: <Dawn> I fucking *studied* him. He's a *real* wizard, boss. Whatever Bonesteel could do... Frederach built a fucking artifact, it's said. ::thoughtfully:: And he was fucking evil. He built this trap, in Waterdeep once, that-- ::shudders:: He makes us look like fucking soldiers of Tempus. <Angel> ::raises an eyebrow:: There's no need to be insulting. <Jewel> ::snorts:: So... "Dead Fred's Pile"... was Frederach's *house*? And Bonesteel moved there, willingly? <Angel> So goes the tale, my lady. * Angel tilts his head and flicks water out of his curls. <Dawn> He was either even stupider than I originally thought, or he had something in mind. ::considers:: Or both. Never underestimate the stupid. <Jewel> And... that's where the boy grew up? Ew. <Dawn> Where's Bonesteel buried? <Angel> Right outside the house, I believe. There's a little single plot outside in the back yard, all suitably morbid and gothic, bleeding angels and dripping gargoyles... Quite charming. <Dawn> ::snorts:: Stupid rich fuckwad. ::sighs:: You're going to need a lift back up, you think? <Jewel> ::frowning in thought:: We both will. <Angel> Not. Tonight. I want a real sleep in a real bed. I'm getting soft in my old age.... ::he sighs, then looks at Jewel:: What did you have in mind? <Dawn> I don't think that's a good idea. Your talents... you don't want to walk on his ground. <Jewel> ::jaw firming:: That's exactly why I *do* want to walk on his ground. ::looks at Angel:: You said you wanted to talk to Bonesteel. I don't know if I can for certain, but... I can try. * Dawn opens his mouth to protest, then sits back to let her argue it out with Angel instead. <Angel> ::holds up one hand:: The graveyard's not connected to the house, really. And it's new. Fred's not buried there... no one's sure *where* he's buried. No one wants to know. But... my lady... ::he touches her face:: I was there, remember, the last time you spoke with a ghost. And those were ghosts with a reason to be fond of you. <Jewel> ::nods gravely:: You said, though, that Bonesteel died of old age? There's no reason for him to be walking, then. Great-grandmama was *waiting* for me. Great-grandpapa... he was the one who'd gone crazy. He never realized, and his ghost... it was restless. <Jewel> ::chews her lip:: I admit, I don't have much experience with un-restless souls. Even the restless ones are... well, they come when they will. Usually when they have something to say. But if there was something of Bonesteel's left in the house...? <Angel> ::shrugs:: I don't know. The locals sort of look on the Pile as their own private treasure hunt. I'm none too sure that everything in there hasn't been picked up at least a dozen times. <Jewel> ::taking one of his hands in hers:: I promise, I'll do only as you tell me, and I won't leave your side. I'm not going to let something disappear *me.* * Angel looks at Dawn, eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you've any talent with talking to dead things?" His jaw tightens a little. <Dawn> No, I'm not a necromancer. You want that, you got to go talk to a priest. <Angel> ::raises an eyebrow:: Now there's an interesting suggestion... ::considers it a moment:: <Jewel> A priest? ::wincing a little:: This just got pricey... <Angel> 'Just?' What is this 'just' you speak of, my lady? ::he gives her a quick half-smile:: <Jewel> ::grins:: Psh. I can afford you two. I'm a rich widow, remember? <Angel> ::turns back to Dawn:: What was your arrangement with the Talarins, again, in exchange for your assistance building that monstrosity of hers? <Jewel> ::blinks in surprise:: ...Loria? She can talk to the dead? <Angel> She is a priest, my lady. High Priestess, if I'm not mistaken... ::he rubs his pendent thoughtfully:: <Jewel> ::quirking a grin:: At this rate, she's going to need a nickname. <Jewel> Ooh... ::eyeing his pendant:: And I never *did* get to speak with her... hm. Later. <Dawn> ::raises his eyebrows:: Hadn't thought of that... I don't usually talk god-talk with her, just the building. ::he scratches at his face:: Our deal covered mostly safety concerns -- healing and the like. Don't know if it would cover talking to corpses, but... ::shrugs:: You're friends with them. She might, for you. If we talk very fast. <Angel> Hmmm. Can you ask her... to drop by Jewel's shop, perhaps? We can talk there relatively privately. The worst she'll say is 'no', rather than having us arrested. <Jewel> There is that. <Dawn> ::nods:: I'll drop her a note. You might mention that Frederach's fairly well-known for being an evil fuck, and it doesn't look like Bonesteel was going to win any geniality awards. Priests like to think they're doing good. <Angel> Why do I feel like I'm the Little Bad Wolf here? ::shakes his head:: <Jewel> ::bites her lip:: I *know* Flavian doesn't bode well for my sister, whether he intends her harm or not. If we can get to the bottom of it, there's her 'good' right there. <Jewel> ::kissing Angel briefly:: You've fought demons, love. At least temporarily, you've been on the side of the angels once or twice. <Jewel> Alright... if that's the whole of it, gentlemen, I've not been sleeping well of late. I wouldn't mind getting to bed a trifle early. <Angel> ::shrugs one shoulder:: It's as much as I've got. Aside from enough dirt under my nails to plant begonias. <Dawn> Fair enough. I'll send Lady Talarin a note tomorrow, and let you know when it's set for. ::he finishes his brandy, and drags himself to his feet:: Good night. <Jewel> Good night, and thank you, Dawn. * Dawn unlocks the door and heads out into the night, heading homeward. * Angel watches Dawn go, then turns to Jewel, arms crossed over his chest. "I am owed." * Jewel stands tiredly to lock the door behind Dawn, and leans on it. "How much did they want?" <Angel> ::half-smiles when she can't see him, then composes his expression:: I have been gone from home for five days, drinking watered down beer and sleeping in uncomfortable beds. I come home and am immediately fussed at for the state of my arrival. The bathwater was cold, and I get from this not even so much as a kiss? I tell you, I am *owed*. <Jewel> ::meekly:: Oh. ::bites her lip and crosses back over to the couch:: I'm sorry? * Angel sighs, realizes he still has a glass of brandy, and drinks about half of it. <Jewel> ::takes a sip from her own glass and sets it aside, moving carefully around his own glass to sit in his lap:: <Angel> ::puts one arm around her waist:: I was beginning to think that perhaps I hadn't been missed. <Jewel> You were... greatly missed. ::she shivers a little, moving deeper into the curve of his arm:: I never sleep well without you. And... there's no way I can do this without you. You know that, don't you? ::regarding him seriously:: <Angel> I know... ::touches her cheek:: I was, actually, attempting to make a joke. Perhaps I'll leave it to the people with talent in the area of humor... ::sets his brandy glass down:: <Jewel> ::quirking a smile:: Practice makes perfect, they say. ::looking at him sidelong:: Besides... I shouldn't have liked to shock Dawn and make him stalk off in disgust before I'd even gotten his report. Business first. <Angel> You can't shock Dawn, my lady... exasperate him, perhaps, but you can't shock him. ::kisses her briefly:: But, you said you wanted sleep... I should leave you to it, then. Because *I* am not particularly sleepy. Yet. <Jewel> ::sliding her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder like a tired child:: I'd like to stay here a little while, if it's alright? I've been... ::her voice quivers, just the tiniest bit:: It's hard for me, when you're gone. <Angel> Of course, my lady... ::brushes a lock of hair out of her face with one fingertip:: I missed you, as well. |
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