Brandt opens the door, ready to see who's on the other side.

As Arc is riding the riksha, he'll begin going over everything that he found today, trying not to think about all the wasted time he could have been working on more, productive, fronts. Upon arriving at the estate, he'll call over whomever is in charge of the day-to-day functions for a quick talk.

“I dunno Mr, but I guess so, I mean, ya wuddn’t stay out ‘ere at nite, woudya? An’ sure, we hear about all sorts of things, most of’em nithin’ but rumours tho. But I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be a bother, you were headin’ sumewheres. ‘Ave a nice evenin’ Mr.”

————————

As soon as the door opens a crack, the woman on the other side slides it all the way back, pushes Brandt onto the floor and is on top of him, a small blade held to his throat. 

“Don’t you dare scream! Who are you, and who do you work for? Speak, or you’ll end up dead and all the press will know is that you lay your hands on a girl.”

Last time I ever ask for a surprise at a brothel. "First, it's Brandt. Second, my death wouldn't make the papers. Third, who's asking?"

OOC: What does this woman look like?

Milo hands the girl 15 silver for her and the boys. “  I’ll be back sometime soon, make sure you get inside tonight.”

Milo continues back his journey to the inn to enjoy the festivities and feast that hopefully awaits him.

Arc is brought up to his study by the family Butler, a rotund and cogenial dwarf named Lucius. Reaching the reading room, he overhears a conversation between Volten and someone he doesn’t recognise: “...could mean an end to the strikes. A warforged unit was seen leading them.” “That could be considerable bad news, one our customers might raise an eyebrow or two if their units can turn rebellious this easily, and two the others will love to blame us for the ongoing strikes, and now they’ve got something to tie events together, however tenuous the connection.” At this point, Volten spotted his son outside, and in his typical domineering baritone, he went on: “What is it, Arcius Sorranik Raddeus? Don’t you see I have business to discuss?”

Corti toasts along with Thia and is left speechless for a moment after her words. "Thank you, Thia. It isn't often that I get to hear something like that." Corti looks down quickly, "You know, you did great today. I mean, I'm sure it wasn't easy, being in that crowd when we showed up, but you kept cool and helped our people anyway. I'm hardly in a place where I should be recruiting, but I think we could use a medic like you." Corti smiles, somewhat wryly, "If things blow up again like they did today, we'll need one." She shakes her head a little, "It seems like you feel good helping people, and you're clearly talented in medicine. Besides, it sounds like we both need to shake our lives up a bit." She grins as she says the last part.

It takes a moment for Brandt to adjust to his position. He wasn’t used to being pinned down by women probably half his size. In the dim light, her body tattoos made her seemingly blend into the background, seeming more like a shadowy spirit of vengeance than a person, before he recognised her as the barmaid with the Black Tear tribal markings. Apparently, his answers weren’t to her liking, giving the increased pressure on the knife. 

“You came in here asking me about the tattoos, I know you’ve been out East, and I know you’re a hired gun. Who sent you?”

"Nobody sent me here. I'm not some brute that hunts down women who are just trying to make a living. I've gotta have some standards, after all."

Thia nods in thanks and agreement as Corti speaks. She isn’t wrong, Thia does enjoy helping any one she can, and because of this she always has a hard time saying no. And again, Corti brings up a good point about shaking life up... Thia’s always been a drifter. She would go where the work takes her.

Thia would open her mouth about to speak but then would remember her discussion with Alexis moments before meeting up with Corti. She’d take a moment to ponder before she’d speak, “You’ve read me well Corti. I’d love to help as I’m able.” She’d pause, “Though, I have a meeting with potential opportunities for future training tomorrow. I honestly don’t know much of the details at this time.” She’d kind of pout looking down into her tankard, but would turn back into a smile quick enough, “Assuming I’m not stretching myself too thin with my commitments, I’d be happy to check in when I can.”

Thia would guiltily look around to try to flag down the half-orc bartender, “I wonder if there’s anything sweet available...” she’d mutter as she’d bite her lip a little bit. Thia has always had a sweet tooth, and there’s nothing better after a hot meal.

Focusing back on the conversation, Thia would look back to Corti, ”Corti when you say ‘we’, I assume you’re talking about the workers? Are you familiar with Veiled Valour?”

When Milo arrives at the Golden Gear Tavern, he can hear a sizeable group already present. Entering the establishment, he was greeted with a loud cheer from the owner, which quickly led to more cheers as some of the present clientele realised that Milo was in fact their benefactor for the night. Scanning the crowd, Milo noticed a few faces from the protest, but the warforged was nowhere to be seen. He also noticed a human woman standing somewhere towards the back, and though drinking from a tankard, clearly observing the room herself.

Tarian liked the Golden Gear, the food was good, the ale wasn’t watered down, and the brawls were kept to a minimum. She had helped prove the owner that his first wife had been unfaithful, which had landed him a nice sum of money in the divorce settlements. In return, he was a reliable informant on town gossip, and usually could help her tell fact from fiction. Unfortunately she had learned from him that Sparks had only recently come to the city himself, and didn’t have his own workshop or known associations in Duskrock. She had already decided to have a couple drinks before heading home, but then all of a sudden a halfling entered the establishment and was immediately celebrated by the majority of the people in the tavern. It didn’t take an investigator to realise that he might be a player with the workers, even if he didn’t look like it.

Hearing Brandt’s words, the pressure against his throat lessened. “You’re not here to take revenge? I mean, I thought it was weird that they would hire an outsider, but then here you wereasking your questions, making accusations... no one here knows or cares about these, why did you?”

"I was just curious. Next time I'll keep from making small talk."

Entering the room, Arc holds back the urge to roll his eyes, and instead gives the practiced stoic look and bow. With his head still lowered, he'll speak in a much more respectful and submissive tone, "Apologies father, I have simply come to report on my dealings with the strike leader I was instructed to negotiate with. If you may allow me the privilege." Despite his head being lowered, Arc still gave a curious glance to the party his father was engaged in conversation with.

“Ah, This is more like it isn’t it folks!  Some good wine, food, and all the good times happening right here at the Golden Gear!”  Milo goes around shaking hands and patting people on the shoulder talking up the crowd before making his way over to the bar.  Looking toward the tavern keeper “What’s on the menu this evening?”  

“Liar. You recognised these, and you know exactly who made them.” Lowering the knife, the woman adopted a less aggressive tone. “I’m sorry for attacking you, I think Celeste misunderstood why I was looking at you in the lobby. It’s just that I’ve been running for years, and this” gesturing around her “is one of the better places since a long time”.

Sliding back onto her knees, she closes the door fully behind her. “I understand if you want me gobe, but if you know what these tattoos mean and you aren’t out to kill me, then you might be able to help me instead.”

"You're pretty bold, I'll give you that. Coming in here, holding a dagger to my throat and then asking for my help." Brandt throws his head back and laughs. "I guess it's your lucky day. I happen to have a positive inclination towards members of your profession, since they happen to treat members of my profession better than most. Not only am I not going to tell Celeste about you almost giving me a tracheotomy, I'm also willing to listen to your request."

“Rise son. This man here works for the Tribune. Well, actually, he works for us, but he spends his time there. He just reported to me that the strikes have escalated after you went to see Mr Krull. I can’t see any way in which you could be to blame for that, but you certainly didn’t succeed either. Now, if you have facts that might alter my version, please, go ahead...” The dismissive silence was suggesting he better stay quiet, it was a tactic his father used often.

The gruff barkeep handed over a bunch of receits and with pride in his voice said: “I spent the morning in the market an’ got some fresh lettuce, pumpkins, squashes, several feet of sausages, two big hams eggs, the catch of the day, several pounds of flour, milk, cheese, some pounds of beets and turnips and a couple of pounds of potatoes and onions, and about a dozen loafs of bread.” 

The list seemed neither organised nor thought through, but looking around, the workers seemed to enjoy the changes to the usual menu

Milo sits down and orders a meal and a wine.  Brushing off the receipts with barely looking at them.  His attention is drawn by the woman that is so eager to stay out of the festivities.  Keeping an eye on her without bringing attention to himself.  Milo will Eat and drink (slowly) enjoying the night with the patrons and workers.

(OOC: Milo intends to slip out before going to bed, just making sure it doesn’t get jumped over)