The High Street

But the carriage stops shortly thereafter, at a multi-storied drinking establishment with green walls and golden trim that rises above the buildings around it. As footmen scuttle up to open the door and lower the steps for you all to exit the carriage, Argus remarks "Ah, the Bottomless Cup is my favorite stop in all the city: the best service, the best drink, and the best view!" He gestures grandly at the city laid out below you and the picturesque spread of the harbor in its embrace. Then he tilts his head and adds "The view is even better from the top floor! Come, my friends! We'll catch the sunset!" Footmen graciously assist you out of the carriage or stand attentively nearby if you are uncomfortable/unaccustomed to servants touching you. They get all sorts here.

You proceed into the building; the ground floor is a bustle of tables of varying heights for clientele of disparate species. Business is brisk as the sun falls. Most tables are full, and there are many well-to-do patrons standing at one of the three bars as well. But one of the wait staff meets Argus, bows, and leads the party to the wide set of wooden stairs leading up to a broad mezzanine looking down on the common room and filled with tables of more sedate patrons deep in the important business of drinking, smoking, and conversation. The stairs lead up to a third floor with broad balconies looking out on the city during golden hour. But the elegantly-dressed employee leads you up another flight of stairs to the top floor, where they are met by an elven hostess who beams when she sees the dwarven scholar. "Argus! It is a pleasure to lay eyes upon you again! When you did not arrive at your usual time, we were concerned. But now we rejoice, for you are with us once more!" She bows and extends an arm to indicate the low tables with cushions. "Will you and your guests please make yourselves comfortable while I prepare?" She glides away toward the private bar as the escort who led you all up through the establishment bows and proceeds back down the stairs. It is clear that this floor is reserved for private parties and you will be alone here. The elf speaks briefly with the bartender, who begins to set out cups for each of you while she moves to slide open the doors, revealing a 360-degree view of the city and the harbor, with the sea to the west, and the Granges to the east. "Please, please, sit and be comfortable!" Argus urges, and plops down on a cushion at the beautifully-lacquered table.

As Eozindra plays and everyone considers their orders, Argus considers Morik's questions.

"There has been talk of increased banditry on the roads of late, but I am glad to say that I saw no such ruffians. My most recent trip was to Grayhaven from the Alabaster Academy, where I was to speak on my theories on dragonglass. But the schedule was very full, the keynote went long, and I was bumped for time." He shrugs. "Their loss. But the other topics at the conference were fascinating; there was one talk in particular about The Practical Limits of Transmutation Magic from the author that I found especially intriguing. I know next to nothing about the subject, of course, but it's a compelling field of study." Though Findal seems enthralled at this, Argus sees some vacant expressions and suddenly remembers that there were other questions.

"Ah, but why am I boring you about academic talks when you want to know more about the City? Of course you want to know more, of course you do! It's called the Jewel of the West for a reason! In addition to the Bottomless Cup," he gestures at your fine surroundings, "There are many other fine establishments that cater cuisine from many lands and cultures. And entertainment! Of course there are many diversions across all the Districts, though some of them I've only heard about, as I wouldn't venture into the Waterfront District myself..." Then the latter part of Morik's questions register. "Oh, but you wish to know more about the Duke and his guards. The Draymore family has been chosen by the Grayhaven Burgher Council and ratified by the Crown for generations." He looks around theatrically, as if he is afraid of being overheard with something particularly salacious. He continues in a low voice. "The Draymores have all been canny operators - they'd have to be, to come out on top of the Council each generation and then maintain their position - but Dain? Dain is head and shoulders above his forebears. He's in a unique position in the history of Grayhaven: he's head of the Council, appointed as Duke of Grayhaven, but he's effectively also the Regent for Queen Sophia. No one expected the Queen to ascend to the throne as early as she has - she's still just a girl, and she defers to the Duke's judgment in most matters. Dain Draymore is effectively the King of the Greenwold. And for the past day and a half, he's been combing the city for gnomish wizards." Argus looks meaningfully at Findal. "Of course, I don't know if you are a wizard, but I'd be careful nonetheless. I don't know what he wants them for, but his guards are rounding up gnomes just on suspicion that they might be wizards."

As the party is considering their orders, the elven hostess pours each person a cup of steaming mulled wine and the chef serves a plate of cubed, spiced meat, fruit, and cheese as appetizers. Watching Elowin dance, Findal takes a skewer, gets a piece of meat, and then pops it in his mouth. At first he's delighted - clearly it's been cooked masterfully - but then he gets a look of mild surprise and...disappointment? He puts the skewer back down and mutters to Bramlin sitting next to him. "Wolf. Definitely wolf." Having had more than enough consecutive meals of wolf meat the past week, Findal doesn't partake any more. Argus, chewing delightedly and swaying to the music, notices Findal's reaction (though he has no idea the reason for it), frowns a little, shrugs, and pops another couple of pieces in his mouth. "Wonderful!" he applauds the performers politely but with genuine enthusiasm, "Charming music! Very graceful! You do Lunea proud!"

Hearing Elysia's order, Argus smiles broadly. "Ah, a refined palate! Aboleth is a bit too chewy for my taste, but the flavor? Exquisite!" He considers. "That said, I believe tonight I will have a catoblepas flank, and bring us a bottle of the yellow musk red; that should pair nicely." The chef hurries off to get those two dishes started.

Having washed the all-too-familiar taste of wolf from his mouth with a swig of the hot wine, Findal jumps back into the conversation. "One of the benefits of Grayhaven being a port is the seafood." Findal then gets a pensive, nostalgic look on his face. "When I was a young gnome, I came to the City with my family, and we went to a restaurant - Stormbrewer's, I think it was called? Long gone now, of course, but do you remember it?"
The hostess nods, though it's unclear whether she does remember or is just being polite; she's seen so many restaurants come and go in her time, how could she be expected to remember them all?

"I had a dish at Stormbrewer's that I'll always remember: baked chuul. You wouldn't have any chuul on hand, would you?"

The elf shakes her head regretfully. "I regret to inform the gentleman that there haven't been chuul in these waters for decades."

"Of course, of course," the little gnome's high voice drops in momentary disappointment. "But that's a good thing, of course. Chuul are terrible monsters, after all. Let's see...let's see...do you have quippers?" She nods, and Findal beams. "Wonderful! I'll have some roast quippers!"

She inclines her head in acknowledgment, keeping track of the orders while the chefs is occupied. "And what would the gentleman care to drink?"

"Oh!" Findal looks mildly confused. "I'll have some of the yellow musk..." The elven hostess shakes her head. "The gentleman may do as he wishes, but should recall that red wine does not generally pair with fish. Would the gentleman wish to have a glass of a suitable white wine?" Findal jerks a nod, and the elf leaves to convey the order, then waits out of earshot for anyone else who cares to order.

Finishing a bit of apple and cheese, Argus brushes some crumbs from his hands and responds to Elysia's other question. "Yes, as I was saying in the carriage, I'd come to Grayhaven to present my research at this month's meeting of TSETSE after failing to do so at the Alabaster Academy." At the blanks looks around the table, he chuckles. "TSETSE is 'The Thaumaturgical Society of Elementalism, Transmutation, and Scholastic Evocation.' There's no reason you should have heard of us. We're an industry group of magical academics that meet four times a year to discuss the latest research into the arcane arts. That's what this was for." Argus takes the small wooden box he was carrying and sets it in the middle of the table. He opens the catch and lifts the lid, revealing a small bundle wrapped in pale blue silk. "My contention was that this is irrefutable evidence of the existence of dragonglass." Findal leans forward with some curiosity. Argus lifts the edge of the silk and folds it to the side, revealing a lump of cloudy, yellowish glass about the size of a walnut. As you look at it, the different rough planes of the glass sparkle as if it is being turned to catch the light of the sunset...even though it is not moving.



"Please, consider it my gift. Now that I've used it as a dramatic visual aid for my talk, I have no other need of it. My research stands on its own, and I'd like to give you something more for your rescue, in addition to this meal. I believe it likely has some value to collectors of rare stones. Are you familiar with the theory of dragonglass?" He takes another drink before launching into his explanation.

"Researchers have long debated the existence of a unique substance that is created when dragon breath interacts with certain types inorganic matter. Some contended that the breath would transform and fuse such matter into a special, magical material called dragonglass. Others contended that, since the heroes who fought dragons in ancient times did not have had their shields turned into dragonglass, this was fantasy. Well, I have long argued that previously forged materials cannot be melted into dragonglass, but that raw materials with a crystalline structure - sand, rock, salt - can be. So one would need to look in places of high concentrations of such materials - beaches, caves, mountains - where we know dragons have lived in order to find actual dragonglass." He picks up the chunk of glittering stone and hands it around the table for you all to appreciate. "I found this example of dragonglass on a beach." Argus looks very smug. "TSETSE was in quite an uproar, I can tell you. Confirmation of hypotheses regarding magical creatures is very rare...it takes a dwarf of the highest caliber to accomplish such a thing!" He folds his hands on his belly and leans back, trying (and failing) to not look too self-satisfied.

Findal holds the lump of dragonglass up, and watches as the sparkles continue to play across its many surfaces. "Fascinating. I'd venture to guess that this could fetch a pretty penny, but it might also contain magical properties that could be...unlocked...under certain circumstances. I'll have to talk to Tykus about it." He passes it to another party member. "I'm concerned about this talk of Duke Draymore. He's always seemed a conscientious and fair man, despite his ambition. Do you know what is happening to the gnomes his guards have captured?"

Argus sighs and shrugs. "I'm sorry to say I don't. It's only been the last day or so; you're the first gnome I've talked to since it started. But I would encourage you to avoid joining the captives."

As the evening wears on and the meal is enjoyed by everyone - the food is exquisite and the drinks are delicious - Findal begins to get more anxious to continue on to meet Tykus.