“Think it’d be easier to list the people he doesn’t owe money to at this point.” Gabriel comments aside to Dovie in spite of Obadiah’s claims before turning his attention back to the exchange.

Arachne glances aside at Esme, considering, “Seven?”

Esme gives a little shake of her head to Arachne and a thumbs up with a bit of an upward motion as if it’s more that than, a hint of amusement on her features.

“Well, I don’t owe anybody money. And I’m gonna make sure it stays that way,” Amber offers with an expression hidden behind the mask, “I don’t do fae deals. But I do do sneaky, so let’s see if we can’t get eyes on the target.”

“Obie could use lessons from someone like you!” Dovie enthuses to Amber, nodding in agreement.

“Right, ok fine, I may have,” Obadiah starts to sputter then holds up his hands defensively. “I am banned from most of Atlantic City for a reason. We don’t need to belabor the point.” He takes a deep breath and let’s it out, “Any other questions, or should we see about finding our way into the Market?”

Esme flashes Obadiah a grin. “Let’s see what we can find.” She agrees.

“Can I come?” A small, small purple grain of sand asks.

Dovie looks around. “Who said that?”

Esme jumps a little.

Arachne maintains her composure, mismatched eyes cutting toward the direction of the voice almost immediately.

eyes the purple grain of sand when it speaks, narrowing his eyes briefly. “I distrust speaking sand. Last time sand spoke to me I was on day three of a seven day bender in Belize and was convinced I needed to get a tattoo…” He takes a breath, and looks around, “Who can vouch for the sand?”

The grain of sand does its very best to project its very being, but it’s just cut out for it. It poofs, too far away, and a swirl of color sits on Esme’s shoulder. “Hello, goodbye, and see you soon.”

Dovie’s eyes blink rapidly as she focuses upon the swirl of color upon Esme’s shoulder. “Oh, what manner of mischief is this?” She seems pleased now that the initial shock is over.

The swirl of green and purple elongate and then dissipate, whispering, “Think on it. (wouldn’t you like to know?)”

“A Wondrous bit.” Esme muses to Dovie, glancing toward the dissipating swirl before looking to Obadiah. “It’ll be alright.”

Amber mostly just lingers there, expression hidden by the mask. Nothing spoken, just lingering for what’s next.

“Alright, very well,” Obadiah says with a frown before taking a breath and looking around once more. “Any other questions? Be ready with your bargains and favors if you want to go shopping.” He starts to make towards the door with Veyne who opens the door for him, smirking the whole time.

Obadiah probably owes her money, too.

“I personally would prefer to be far away from the influences of Wonder, if you’d be so kind to leave the business of your cult back where it belongs,” Arachne voices toward Esme mildly from her place beside Amber, the barest hint of a strained smile playing at the corners of her mouth before her gaze shifts aside to Obadiah. “No further questions from me at least.”

Dovie nods her head eagerly at Obadiah, following along. “Eight,” she murmurs to herself, under her breath.

“That was Wonder? She can be here? If she’s here, I’m going the fuck back. I don’t deal with that shit,” Amber starts at the news, standing straighter and hand going to a pocket to grip something there, “She can fuck right off.” Her unsettled displeasure is not hidden in the least.

“It’s not like I asked them to come along.” Esme tells Arachne and Amber dryly and then clicks her tongue. “Alright, you heard ’em, Wonder. Been outvoted and it ain’t my job. I’ll bring you back some other time to take a look around, hm?”

“Pip still hasn’t recovered from my last run in with Wonder.” Gabriel says, seeming at least somewhat annoyed on behalf of his cat as he falls in behind Obadiah, disregarding the talking sand and the powers behind it.

Dovie frowns a little, asking: “What happened to Pip?”

Esme says “They danced“

“Shoo,” Obadiah says as he keeps walking and declares, “Ready the digny, Mister Bramblethorn! We are off…”

Gabriel nods to what Esme said, “Pip was very much not a fan of it. He has two left feet.”

After a short ride in the small boat, primarily rowed by a grizzled old salt that looked very much like he came out of a pirate cartoon, Bramblethorn dropped them off at the docks of Siren’s Cove.

As the party steps off of the boat they see the piers sagging under the weight of barnacles and rusted chains. Around them smugglers, pirates, and Imperial citizens alike are unloading crates of silks, weapons, and things found only in the wilds. Overseers and boatswains keep an eye on the sailors and tally every good to make watch for sticky fingers.

“Alright, well,” Obadiah says as he looks around, “Where should we start?”

Dovie’s eyes are sharp to move in the direction of silks and other crates of magical things, “The markets! The auctions!” she enthuses, coughing afterwards to seem more composed. “I mean, surely, it would be good to ask around for what we seek there?”

Esme eyes the area they’ve been dropped off at, nodding toward Dovie, “I think perusing the markets and asking a few well placed questions is a good idea.”

OOC: (Throw up some try rolls for your social engineering or keen powers of deduction. Or whatever)

Arachne remains silent during the short stint on the dinghy, mismatched eyes watchful over the waters before they finally come ashore to the docks of Siren’s Cove. “Remind me to invest in a vintage camera, something perfect for places like these that won’t have us stick out terribly. It would be perfect for cataloging our travels and bringig them back to August,” she murmurs in request to Amber, soon breaking off from the group to begin surveying the docks with an unhurried pirate’s swagger befitting the identity she’s assumed for the forray.

Amber passes Arachne a small thumbs-up at the murmured request before she slinks off and into the crowd.

“We should proceed further down the docks,” Dovie reports after speaking with some vendors. “Anyone else find anything of note?”

Esme asks around casually here and there but maybe she’s also getting distracted by some things for sale. When she eventually circles back toward the others there’s a nod to Dovie, “Probably. I didn’t learn anything. Just saw a few things I might wanna buy…”

Arachne shakes her head, sounding off in the negative when she returns back to the group. “Nothing concrete on my end,” she murmurs, her head tilted in curiosity at Esme’s words. “What caught your eye? I’m chasing down a lead on something special myself, and I’ve prepared a worthwhile bargain for it if I can find the right vendor.”

Amber comes back from a patrol of the market, slinking along as usual. Hands in pockets, she sighs, “Too bad they trade in memories. I’d probably trade the wings for some of this stuff, instead.”

Gabriel comes back to the group to share what he’s learned, “Entrance to the Market is down a ladder at the end of the docks. Got to bargain with some man there in order to get in. Also seems like Captain Ironside got there about 20 minutes ago and has a satchel around her neck. People overheard her bragging about retiring somewhere nice with lots of rum so clearly she’s got something nice.”

Obadiah sent the results of the investigations via private, because I wanted to empower ya’ll to decide to do with what you learn. FYI

“Just a few things that might be interesting for my Winter Auction.” Esme figures to Arachne, “Something that might be useful for my personal collection.” She makes a thoughtful sound at Gabriel’s input. “Lots of people believe it’s ah myth, so they’re gonna be real shocked if they get eyes on it.”

Presuming everyone goes down the dock towards the ladder and climb down, they are greated by a great hulking brute of a man, with purple hair. When he looks at each in turn then offers, “What are you doing down here? Don’t you know it is unsafe to go poking around the catacombs just before high tide?”

“Excellent intel we can certainly work with,” Arachne commends Gabriel upon his return, her head canted toward Esme as she listens to the women. “All I hear is speculation on what you’re going to have presented for the winter auction. How did you come up with the idea to put a lynch on that line of business anyway? I suppose it only makes sense, given you were already in the pawn industry.” She moves forward, following directions Gabriel’s given them to enter the market, swaying toward Amber to posit over, “I’m surprised you’re not a fan of it; the wings, that is. It seems like such a tactical advantage for a variety of situations.”

Dovie adds to Amber. “And they are very cool,” she says of the wings.

Gabriel chimes in as well, “I could think of so many ways for those to be useful. Though I could imagine them being annoying at times.”

“Useful in a lot of ways, but a lot of logistic concerns that make them impractical for the use cases I had in mind for them,” Amber admits to Arachne and Dovie with a small and helpless shrug, “Not worth the ongoing maintenance cost for my needs.” She glances to Gabriel to listen to the explanation, “Though maybe I can fly in without some stupid bargain…”

Gabriel hums faintly and tells Amber, “Going to have to pick your brain about them at some point after this.” then with the mention of getting in, “There is always plan V.”

Dovie turns her attention to the brute, approaching with a smile on her face. “Hello, I wish for entrance into the market, and have brought things to barter with, though should you have an interest in something specific, I would like to know as well.”

The brute blinks Dovie and holds out his hand to her. “I presume you are asking about the special market. What sort of bargain are you willing to make?”

“Hey, I’m more than happy t’ let people rent tha place out for ah night to do their own auctions if they want.” Esme grins a bit to Arachne, “The fun part is that I don’t even know what I’m sellin’ until much closer.” She muses, quieting when they get closer to the brute, happy enough to let Dovie take the lead and see how the process goes.

“We’re well aware of the danger of the high tides. Our business will be brief, and we’ll cause no trouble,” Arachne promises to the brute from her place behind Dovie, content to let the venture capitalist among them lead the way. “Surely you can turn a blind eye, just this once, and allow us in. If we cause you any trouble, you can double the price as compensation.”

Amber follows to where the bouncer is keeping people out unless they bargain. She squints through the mask to see if there’s any reason she can’t sneak her way into it. “If diplomacy doesn’t work, I have an idea… unless it’s some kind of magic barrier,” she hops down the ladder.

Gabriel is already reaching up to remove his mask when Arachne makes an attempt to smooth talk the guard so he decides to wait and see how that plays out.

Through the combined efforts of Arachne and Dovie’s combined grasp of body language, deception, and good old fashioned mind fucking, the man lets them all enter without and further resistance, muttering something about assess looking great high-waisted trousers and yoga pants.

Dovie murmurs, “Oh yes, we love yoga pants,” as she swans by the brute.

Obadiah, for his part, is content to just let things go, though those that know him best know his mind is elsewhere. He is distracted, by something decidedly not here.

Dovie looks around, completely entranced by the strange algae glow and the variety of goods on offer, all strange and mystically delightful to her eyes. She claps her hands together, peer at certain jars with widening eyes before her gazes moves towards the auction. “Perhaps we can see what they have for sale too…”

The crew passes through an iron gate and down some winding tunnels into the catacombs under the city. As they come around the corner, they see the chamber proper, bustling and yet silent as everyone wears a mask and speak in hushed whispers, many hands being clasped in promises. Around are various stalls and tents with things for sale, but on the far wall is the auction area proper.

As they start to wander around though, a voice rings out in a thick dutch accent: “I heard he’s here,” the squat man says to a shorter redheaded woman. “Give me the token, otherwise he is going to use it to get out of my debt!” The woman scoffs at the man and says, “Please. He is worth more to us alive.”

Overhearing the conversation, Obadiah mutters to them all, “I am going to go lurk in the shadows. Worst case I’ll provide a distraction but for now you’re on your own. de Groot isn’t above breaking a few rules if it gives him a chance to break my legs. You know how it goes.”

Esme’s eyes widen a touch behind her mask as they enter the market proper. “Definitely do need to keep ears on the auction.” She murmurs even as her gaze is drawn more toward the market stall, hoarder that she is. She draws her gaze back toward Obadiah when he speaks up. “Be careful.” She murmurs back, gaze flicking toward the commotion briefly.

“Are we wanting to actually do the auction? I thought we’d just grab and run,” Amber admits, glancing out over the crowd.

Dovie admits to Amber. “Yes, honestly, I’d love to check out the auction a little, if that’s alright?”

Arachne touches a hand lightly to Amber’s shoulder. “We want to avoid anything that can incite violence outright, so we may need to do it with care and precision,” she supposes, with an agreeing nod to Dovie. “Likewise. There was something I’d hoped to find here while we still have the opportunity.”

“Whoever wants to checkout the auction can, I’ll try to find whatsherface and keep an eye on her.” Gabriel says as he already starts scanning the crowd for the woman with the leather satchel.

Esme nods with the others, “So long as we can keep eyes on her and sort this before she gets the token on the bidding block I think we’ll be alright.”

Dovie nods to the rest of the group and slides her way over towards the auction.

Amber quiets again, posture going stiff and reserved as she trails after the others. Back to silently observing.

While the others drift off toward the auction, Arachne takes her chances among the tents and stalls blooming out within the catacombs, mismatched eyes agleam with determination from beneath the fine mesh of pearls obscuring her features. With a twist of her body, she moves past throngs of masked bodies, drawn toward a stall where an eccentric fellow hawks his equally odd and esoteric wares.

The auctioneer is an older gentleman and he looks rather sleepy, at least what you can see. He wears a bronze mask in the likeness of a man with a sharp goatee beard and a turbine. “The next item up for auction is lot 664. The Tideglass. This item is said to have power over the very tides themselves, at the low cost of hours off of your life. Shall we start the bidding at 2 favors of a personal nature?”

Dovie’s eyes go wide at the mention of the item and she gazes at it curiously, her eyes flitting around to try to track what may be next as well as she waits for bids.

Gabriel slips in amongst the auction crowd, masked gaze fixed on a redhead amongst the others as he casually meanders his way over toward her, not letting her out of his sight.

Esme makes a little handwobble motion to Dovie, not discouraging her if she wants to bid on it.

Dovie raises her hand to offer to the auctioneer. “I offer a three course meal made by one of my chefs and a plant of your choosing to be magically enchanted by my arcanists.”

Arachne inclines her head appreciatively toward the tent worker before she follows the lead she’d been given, slowly heading deeper into the catacombs, eyes on the swivel.

First to Dovie, the auctoneer nods, accepting her bid, and then looks looks around. “The bidding stands at one dinner and one plant. Are their any other takers?” He pauses, “Going once. Going twice.” Crack. The gavel comes down and a motion is made for Dovie to take her winnings. “The next piece is 665. Said to be able to soothe the most distraught of souls. Shall we start the bidding at one favor of a criminal nature?”

Dovie claps excitedly, squeaking as she wins the bid, fists pumping into the air.

Esme grins a bit “Congrats, Dovie.” She nods and then looks over the shell with an interested expression. She mulls a beat before raising her hand. “One freeform favor for a non-murderous crime.” She bids.

The auctioneer nods to Esme, accepting her bid. “One favor of a non-murderous nature,” he intones back to her, looking out for other bids.

For her part, Arachne can easily make out what it is she is looking for, presumably.

Arachne immediately zeroes on what she’s long sought after, the corner of her mouth upticking into a roguish smile. That elation is short-lived when she enters into a harsh bartering with a greedy merchant, features slowly becoming impassive. “The price you ask is too high,” she hisses, only for a resigned sigh to leave her. “But I did not come all this way to let it slip between my fingers again. I need it.” Extending out her hand, palm up, in surrender, she parts with something gravely precious.

Gabriel is striking out over there and is clearly not winning over any pirate captains anytime soon, but he keeps chatting amicably with her and at least introduces himself properly. He still has plan H in reserve though.

From the shadows Obadiah watches the group, ducking behind the various stalls to stay out of view, and out of the way trying hard not to be seen, but keeping a protective eye on them all. He may be a debtor and a scamp but at least he is a loyal one.

The auctioneer looks around again and, not seeing any other takers, nods to Esme, “Sold. Next is lot 666 a crystal chandelier in pieces. Some of you might remember years ago the incident at the Dutchess Theatre….”

Dovie inquires curiously, turning to Esme. “What happened at the Dutchess Theatre?”

Esme claims her winnings with a satisfied expression and a nod. “I’m…not sure.” She admits to Dovie, “Something that involved a chandelier breaking I guess.” She casts a glance about a moment to clock Gabriel and Arachne to see how they’re faring.

Dovie requests to the auctioneer, “What is the story and what do the pieces do?”

Gabriel could be doing better, but he seems to at least be at a conversational rather than confrontational level with the target as they both watch the auction.

Arachne meanders through the crowds, slowly navigating her way back toward the group in perturbed silence. “I’m back,” she announces needlessly, chin lifted toward the auctioneer as he announces the next lot item. “How long until the coin comes up?” she wonders.

“Ah, well,” the auctioneer says with a chuckle. “That is a story for another time. Suffice it to say they trapped the fragments of horror and love in their polished surfaces. It is said when the light shines through them, you can hear the ghosts sing.” He then turns as an assistant comes and places his hand on the auctioneer’s shoulder and whispers before nodding. “Right. It seems that 666 will need to be delayed momentarily. 667, an iron piece of eight, rumored to be one of the twelve iron tokens. Historically 6 have already been used, so this is truly a rare find.”

“Right about now it seems.” Esme murmurs to Arachne as she returns.

Gabriel decides it’s time to enact plan H and at least attempt to keep the piece from going to auction.

Gabriel would probably notie the coin has already been passed off and is being taken to the stage. Is he going to hypno the Auctioneer then?

Gabriel notices the coin has been handed off already and instead tries the same trick on the auctioneer.

Obadiah sees what someone is trying to do and gets his bow from his bag, muttering under his breath, “Oh this could have gone so much better.”

Obadiah sees what Gabriel is trying to do and gets his bow from his bag, muttering under his breath, “Oh this could have gone so much better.”

The auctioneer is used to tomfoolery of all kinds, and the rules are the rules for a reason. A snap of his fingers, “Drowned Guards! Seas him!” (worth it).

Dovie hears the pun, wincing, and immediately reaches into her charmed handbag to pull out her equipment.

Amber had remained quiet and unobtrusive in the back while the others handled auctions and deals. Once shit goes south, though, she takes action and tosses something into the crowd that she’d palmed from her pocket earlier.

Amber is able to leverage the chaos to get the coin in question and slip it into her pocket undetected. The guards are coming from the back fast however and will be upon them all soon enough.

Gabriel lets out a heavy sigh and decides to try and deck the auctioneer before chaos really breaks out. If he’s going down, might as well go down with company.

Esme pulls her cutlass out as things start going south, from a scabbard of course and not a messenger bag.

Gabriel drops the auctioneer and grabs his short sword as he says, “Quick, grab all the fancy shit.”

Obadiah says “Shiit! “

“DON’T LET THE SEAMEN GET YOU!!” Dovie screeches, putting her auction item safely before her eyes open wide. “OH FUCK! THEY’VE COME!”

Watch your backs, everyone! Arachne bellows.(Encourage)

Amber attempted to slip out while the others fight, but as a whole lot of smugglers appear to have taken the opportunity to start trying to stake her, she joins the others in going loud. Alongside her spooky doll companion.

Esme attack smuggler undercut

“Fuck,” Obadiah says rushing back to the group as he looks around, “Is everyone alright?” He glances towards the door in the chaos reaching out to grab Dovie by the hand and pull her towards the door. “Come on,” he says, “Esme is about to fight the whole navy if we don’t get out of here.” He looks to Amber, “make sure the boss get’s out of here.” And with that he sprints towards the door, and eventually the docks.

Arachne slowly wipes the blood from her dagger on the downed body of a market enforcer, sounding off, “No injuries here,” in the affirmative toward Obadiah when he comes rushing out. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, skulking in the shadows. But we do need to get out of here, before that brute of a man comes collecting those promises we made to get in here,” she reminds, glancing naturally toward Dovie and Amber to make sure her blood relation and protege are fine.

Esme does indeed look like she’s ready to take on the whole rest of everyone in the market even after the trouble is over. Her demeanor had shifted when she properly wielded the cutlass but at least she has enough wherewithall still to follow out even as she’s shouting some very pirate-esque threats to the people within.

Dovie doesn’t need to be told twice, scampering towards Obadiah’s outstretched hand. “The coin! Did we get thec oin?” she asks, anxiously.

Dovie coughs. “The coin!”

Gabriel kicks the downed auctioneer as he runs to join the group, “Yeah, pretty sure Amber snatched it while that bastard was getting all upset with me.”

Amber bends down to let the doll hop back into her pocket after, straightening up and giving Obadiah a nod, “Let’s get going.” She slips over to Arachne’s side after Obadiah. To Arachne, “Most of them came after me, but nothing I can’t handle…” The coin remains pocketed until they’re long out of sight, “Let’s just get gone.”

Dovie nods. “Hurry! Before more come after us!” She does a quick headcount between Obadiah, Arachne, Esme, Amber, and Gabriel. “Go-go-go!!”

Bramblethorn kept the engine running as it were and is able to drag the group back to the Siren’s Fang with long slow pulls. The sounds of chaos following along behind them. Eventually they are out of sight of the docks and they fade into the mist.

When they get back to the ship, Veyne greets the group, especially Obadiah, with a knowing grin. “So who do you owe money to now?” she asks already motioning for the boatswain to make ready to put some distance between them and the island.

Gabriel whistles innocently as he slips his bloodied blade away.

“Seems like everyone at the market,” Dovie murmurs with a chuckle.

Once safely on the boat, Amber reaches into her pocket to pull out a coin between two fingers, offering it out to Obadiah without any hesitation or hurry. She waits for him to take it, in case there’s any need for Obadiah to protect against the metal. She comments, “They attacked me first, for the record.”

“I am the only orderite here, and in the words of Ambrose, when there is a problem you deal with it. If you think about it first, that is murder,” Obadiah says gratefully accepting the coin and flipping it into the air and putting it into his pocket, a breath of relief coming from him, even as the iron burns slightly. “Thank you all. Anything else before we head home?”

Dovie shakes her head, “Ready for a hot shower and to curl up with Mochi!”

Gabriel removes his mask now that he probably won’t end up on a wanted poster, “I’m good.”

Esme shakes her head, cutlass stowed but maybe still trying to shake off a bit of the residual energy from it. “All good here.” She agrees, pulling out her bought item to study it closer as they prepare to head off.

Amber passes a thumbs-up, reaching up to remove the mask, “Glad we could help. Let’s go home.”