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Post by Hammett on Aug 18, 2019 16:41:19 GMT
(OOC: I edited my previous post to match GM's last one)
Hammett sighs, it was definitely going to be one of those nights.
He watches as Dalton quickly moves over and politely "helps" the ambassador maintain his footing and get control of himself. Dalton looks to his boss for further instructions.
Hammett debates having the troublesome man thrown out but relents, knowing that the man might have useful information. With some reluctance he motions to Dalton to escort the ambassador up into the VIP area.
Behind them other staff quickly move in to clean up the mess the ambassador made and give complimentary drinks to those he disturbed. You are always treated well at Wormwood's, even if it is something beyond managements control.
Hammett returns to the seat he just vacated moments ago and waits for them to arrive.
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Post by Admin on Aug 19, 2019 4:07:40 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/9T7z5vz/images-q-tbn-ANd9-Gc-Tj36-D-JXSS9x4-Xi-IUSj-L-V58-uj0d-Dcf-OFe-R6ut-Mk8ne-Fycs-BI~jpg [OOC: Sorry, I wanted to get a bit of Begman screentime. Could only be better if Z had named the place Bergma.] The ambassador takes a seat at the table and gives a gruff "Hello" to Hammett. He growls at the waiter who appeared with a bottle of wine then said: "Take that swill back and bring me a bottle of Buorgone '82. And make it fast!"He turns his gaze to Hammett. "Imagine trying to pawn off that Bayle's slop on me?! I only drink the best of Begman wines, sir."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 19, 2019 5:41:23 GMT
Hammett nods to the waiter to accede to the man's demand, but he makes sure that the ambassador notices that it was Hammett's call on whether to humor him or not.
He also motions for Dalton to give them some space, but not to wander too far off. Having the imposing bouncer noticeably standing nearby might help speed things along, and keep them civil.
"You seem to be in a rare mood tonight, ambassador. Do you need a few moments to compose yourself? I have some fairly pressing matters to attend to..."
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Post by Admin on Aug 20, 2019 2:33:43 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/9T7z5vz/images-q-tbn-ANd9-Gc-Tj36-D-JXSS9x4-Xi-IUSj-L-V58-uj0d-Dcf-OFe-R6ut-Mk8ne-Fycs-BI~jpg The ambassador takes a large quaff of the Begman wine and blows out his moustaches. "And why wouldn't I be in a mood, eh? What with the town filling up with people from a thousand lands all coming to me with their problems and expecting me to send them on to Begma! As if I can just wave them on with signed piece of paper! Then Orkuz sends endless missives and to top it all off - the final turd in the punchbowl, if you will - bloody Prince Gerard and his pack of drunken hooligans come to town trying to stir up trouble! No sir, I have problems aplenty and no time to compose myself!"The rant ended he does calm down enough to give Hammett the reason for his visit. "The honourable Prime Minister Orkuz of Begma strongly recommends you, Hammett, to travel to Begma and undertake some tasks the P.M. has in mind for you. Your unique skills are in demand and the compensation...well, let us just say that they will allow you to live in more congenial environs than Kasaba and this saloon here."He looks around with a show of distaste at Wormwood's decor.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 20, 2019 4:54:39 GMT
For the second time in short order Hammett is surprised, but this time he maintains his composure.
"Prime Minister Orkuz wishes to employ me? What tasks could he possibly have in mind that he thinks I could handle for him?"
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Post by Admin on Aug 23, 2019 1:33:58 GMT
"Please, sir, do not think we Begmans do not have our own ways of learning information. The Prime Minister is well aware of you and rumours of your gifts." he finishes off the bottle of wine in a huge gulp then gestures for Dalton to bring a bottle of Tequila.
"The P.M. still suffers from the loss of his two daughters to other duties and requests - no, demands! - your attendance in the court to assist him in the creation of portraits of the young women. Remuneration would be plentiful as I said and you would have the gratitude of a very important family and nation."
He loudly burps and the bottle of tequila quickly follows the wine down his throat.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 23, 2019 2:25:17 GMT
Hammett does his best to hide his disgust of the uncouth man in front of him.
"Ah, so it is my artistic abilities the Prime Minster requires. In that case I would be happy to help when the time allows. Maybe in a few weeks, shall we say? No more then in a month or so I should be able to make the journey. Will that be alright?"
The Ambassador gets heated again, "No! No, that simply won't do. This is a matter of great important and urgency to Orkuz. You must head there as soon as possible."
Hammett sighs and feigns compassion, "I understand, Mr. Ambassador, truly I do. But you yourself were just going on about how crazy things are here in Kasaba at the moment. Two Amber couriers murdered on the train without any information on what they were doing or even who killed them. And now, Prince Gerard here in port without any word of warning and for reasons even I do not know. You can hardly expect me to leave until I learn all I can about these events. You must agree with that."
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Post by Admin on Aug 24, 2019 17:32:39 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/9T7z5vz/images-q-tbn-ANd9-Gc-Tj36-D-JXSS9x4-Xi-IUSj-L-V58-uj0d-Dcf-OFe-R6ut-Mk8ne-Fycs-BI~jpg "I can and do expect you to leave. Bloody damned dashed spies - all they ever do is get themselves killed and death is too good for them. We had a problem with spies in Begma back during the troubles with those Damnable Kashfans. Put them all to death - the spies that is, not the Kashfans" his voice is starting to slur as he says 'kashfans' and 'those'. "And they did the same to our shpies too! And a good job they did there, I commend them for it. Bloody shneaking, shpying shavagesh.
"Let Gerard deal with his lost men; you have more important work to do. I'll expect you packed and ready to travel in the morning."With that said he gets up and unsteadily makes his way to the door while once again tripping over the same table and sending the newly set glassware crashing to the floor. He's weak in the knees but his grip on the mostly empty tequila bottle is firm. "And make some shpace in here, you're packing us in like shardines. Not even enough room for a shadow."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 24, 2019 17:44:39 GMT
Hammett rubs his eyes exasperation as Dalton rushes to escort the ambassador the rest of the way out of the bar. The only good thing was that hopefully the drunk buffoon wouldn't remember most of this come tomorrow morning.
He stood and looked around the club as things went back to normal. Okay. No more interruptions.
He went over to his private stairs up to his office and quickly climbed them, pulling out his cards as he did. Once inside his office he closed and locked the door behind him and then poured himself a drink. Sitting behind his desk he opened himself up to Trump contact and drew Bleys's card out of his deck. Taking a calming sip of his drink he began to focus on the card.
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Post by Admin on Aug 24, 2019 18:04:48 GMT
There is a faint stirring of contact but nothing strong enough for Hammett to grip with his mind. After a minute even the slight hint of contact slips away and Hammett is left holding the cold card.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 24, 2019 18:26:41 GMT
"Dammit." He puts the cards away and ponders the situation for a few moments before getting up. Events were unfolding quickly and he couldn't help feeling he was more then a few steps behind, and he didn't like that.
Ferrari's was the next obvious stop. The fat man had urgently wanted to see him, and it had to have something to do with all of this. It wouldn't wait to tomorrow afternoon like he originally planned, so it might be best to go there now. But the man was almost as shifty in his words and dealings as Ugarte. Going in as blind as Hammett currently was wouldn't be helpful. He needed something to trade with, or at least a better understanding of what was going on.
Hammett pulled out his cards and with his mind as blank as possible began to shuffle them. Once done he splits the deck and begins to cast the cards, dealing them in to the tarot, his thoughts focused on his current situation and players involved.
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Post by Admin on Aug 26, 2019 15:20:38 GMT
The cards do not give a direct answer to Hammett's questions but when dealing the expected cards show up: Gerard and Bleys as the current problem. Lurking about in the shadows are the cards for Random and Llewella. The High Priestess and Death figure prominently for the future. He can sense that there is a hole in his reading, a gap that might be explained by his lacking a card which could reveal more information.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 26, 2019 15:39:15 GMT
Hammett studies the results for a few moments, not as much help as he was hoping, but then it had been a long shot.
He gather the cards together and shuffles them back into his deck. Cutting through to his personal quarters Hammett quickly changed into a suit more suitable for wandering the streets and made sure he had everything he needed. Looked like this is going to take some footwork.
Moments later down in the club he located Conrad, the manager and Hammett's second in command. "I have to head out for a bit. Blue Parrot, Rilk's and maybe the docks. Hopefully not for very long. If anyone else comes by looking for me, set them up in the VIP area and treat them well. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Exiting via the backdoor, Hammett made his way out into the Kasaba streets. The Blue Parrot was closest and Ferrari had been so insistent earlier that it made it the logical first stop.
Blending in with the crowds Hammett quickly journeyed the few blocks to the Parrot.
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Post by Admin on Aug 26, 2019 16:25:34 GMT
"Sure thing, boss. What should we do if Yvette comes by?" Conrad makes the sign for a drunk and disruptive customer.
The streets of the city are dark, dry, and busy. Outside the Blue Parrot is a mob waiting to get in. The doormen do a valiant job keeping order but it is Gerard's four marines that seem to scare the crowd into a calm state od chaos. Hammett knows that Gerard would bring another six of the marines into the cafe for crowd control.
The Blue Parrot doorman, Antoine, greets Hammett.
"Good evening, Mister Hammett. A crazy night, no? I hope Wormwoods isn't this busy so I can send some of these poor, thirsty souls your way. Signor Ferrari is supposed to be waiting for you inside but -" he nods towards Gerard's men, "This is an unusual night for the Parrot."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 26, 2019 17:44:01 GMT
Hammett greets the doorman warmly, "Antonie! Always good to see you. I'm afraid we've been turning people away for hours now as well. It is a busy night everywhere." And then with a lower voice and a shared smile, "And just as unusual."
Making sure the four marines are distracted with the crowd, he leans in even closer, "Perhaps Signor Ferrari could show me in personally from the kitchen door?"
He doesn't give the man time to respond, before quickly drifting off into the crowd like another turned away customer. Once free of the crowd and out of sight of the guards, he makes his way around the building to the kitchen door and waits. He briefly wondered if he should have brought Dalton along as support, but that could just cause even more problems, plus, like he told Conrad, he was needed at Wormwood's on a night like tonight in case Yvette stopped by.
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