Scene Setup: Arriving at he pleasure house, trying to make contact with the appropriate person to show the Wounded Hound to.
Die of Fate: 5, the scene is not interrupted.
The light is dim on the inside of the pleasure house. The sudden change from the bright daylight outside makes me blink my eyes. The air is hazy from burning incense and braziers.
I’d like to think that this is an open format, where people come in and mingle and pay for what they want, without any overt organization. That’ll make it easier to case the place and pick the person I think most able to take me where I want to go. I’m going to call for a -Wise roll. Pleasure House-wise. Obviously, I don’t have that skill. Ob is probably 1, 2 doubled. Rolling Perception to make this declaration, B4. If I fail, it’s completely closed off, and you have to meet with a hostess first. 1, 1, 5, 5. That’s a success!
Just passing the doorway, the room appears to take up the entire building. On all sides I can see alcoves blocked by thin curtains. The rest of the room is taken up by chairs, benches, couches, tables and anything else people find a use for while talking, flirting and negotiating for the final exchange. It’s not very busy, being mid-afternoon.
I look around, trying to find someone who looks like the owner. It doesn’t take long before I see a man who doesn’t appear to be enjoying the company of another person or to be a bodyguard. I walk casually over to him.
As I approach, he looks me over. “Yes? Can I help you?” he asks.
“Are you the owner?” I ask him. As I do, I try to subtly show him the Wounded Hound medallion in my palm, without revealing it to anyone else around.
I think that’s going to be an Inconspicuous roll. With this group, there’s bound to be someone with Observation. I’ll roll it at a B2 v. my B4 Will. I have double obstacle penalty. Them: 2, 2. Me: 3, 4, 5, 6. I succeed.
His eyes dart down and he sees the medallion in my palm before I turn my palm inward, hooking my thumb in my belt. He nods, “Yep. I’m the owner. I heard you were coming and I’ve got what you want back here.” He rises from his seat and walks deeper into the building, back where the curtained alcoves are more bunched together and the air is thick with grunts and cries of pleasure.
He stops before a bodyguard who is guarding an alcove. He flashes a hand signal and nods to the guard who quickly pulls the curtain aside from the alcove. The owner turns to me and nods into the alcove. “You’ll find what you want in there.”
I nod and quickly enter the alcove. The curtain falls closed behind me. It smells of mildew in here and the dim light makes it hard to distinguish any details.
After a couple minutes of fumbling around, I discover a stair case leading down, into the ground. The air above the stairs reeks of mildew and damp. I touch the sword and dagger on my belt to reassure myself and slowly descend.