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Athiras shuffles a few thoughts in his head before agreeing on one. "Oh uh, no additional info required. Though the process isn't figured yet, the job itself seems pretty simplistic. Ruin the party, get some info." He slowly nods, as though to reconfirm what the lady had just said.

Narciso awakens tentatively, feeling the warmth of Luca's presence. It takes him a while that morning to slowly pull away, and he stretches away the sleep, the thoughts of their previous night's adventures still fresh in his mind, like a pleasant dream. As if to make sure he remembers correctly, he lifts the blanket just slightly to look... and pleased with what he found, he gently replaces the blanket and shifts out of bed. He finds the amber bottle and whetstone on the table and gives a soft smirk. A gift? I can't imagine from who... He thinks but appreciates the items anyway, and finds a safe place to secure them in his backpack.

---

Narciso's first week off of work is spent with Luca, enjoying the sights and sounds of Teiros in full party, holding his lover's hand. This was different for the young man- He'd had lovers before, but rarely anything longer than a single night, and the fact that Luca seemed to enjoy his company was... pleasant. They spent more than a few nights together ending up at the beach, Narciso seemingly enchanted by the night sky. The warmth, his presence. The second week was slightly different, as Luca was frequently found busy, or incapable of spending time with him. They were only able to spend two nights together, and the pair went out to dinner. They fell asleep together one last time, but Luca was absent when Narciso awoke to the summons.

---

Narciso approaches the table, dressed in clean garments, and fresh-faced as he took note of the three newcomers. He listens to Gina's announcements with little surprise, but with a solemn understanding that he may not see Luca again, for the time being. Finally, with the confirmation of Idrig's departure, he understood where the gifts had come from, and he gave a delayed smile, staring down at the table, sleep still clinging to his eyelashes. With a small yawn, he nods at Ciraco's introduction and lets the conversation continue.

"Cause chaos, break into a party, make sure to retrieve evidence. Seems easy enough to me." He says softly, in agreement with the others. He looks toward the new three, learning their faces. "You need something broken quickly, or something thrown far, feel free to ask me. I'm also not the worst partner to have in a fight." He says with a smile.

"First things first, we'll need to gather information on what's planned," Ciraco says, his mind shifting into a more focused planning mode. "All the ideas we come up with are useless if we can't execute them. We should scout out the estate. It will be good to have a sense of the place before the night and we might be able to glean some useful information from some loose lipped staff or anyone starting to set things up already," the mercenary suggest as a first course of action.

"Scout the site, sabotage, ruin the party and find intel. Some good ol' tactical party crashing. Got it." Grocco confirms. "Spells and potions aren't my forte, but I am more than capable as a wrecking ball when needed." the old orc quips, a little bewildered that the young woman so casually mentions being magically gifted.

A wide, almost devious grin spreads across Gina's face as she hears each of you conspire. "My, with this team, I'm certain this will be the party of the year, if not the decade." She lets out a chuckle, standing and making her way toward the door. She leans against the wall and looks back, adding, "To answer your question, my dearest Fioralba, I am unsure myself. Though signs point to coin, perhaps other secrets may yet be uncovered. It does seem too convenient of an excuse, hm? But I will let you all get to work. Like I said, I care not what you do, so long as you don't get caught." Gina bows and steps away, leaving the rest of you in the parlor.

With agreement on preliminary scouting, the rest of you make your way out into the street, naturally abuzz yet less electric than carnival atmosphere of days prior. The sky above is overcast, a blanket of thick clouds swirling with threats of rainfall, yet the showers hold off. With giddy anticipation in your step and wind-tousled hair, you make your way toward the city's center.

You step into Piazzetta Vecci, the smallest of the city's plazas, and linked to the larger Piazza Vittoria from the east. For some of you, there is a familiar landmark: Hotel Primo, the city's first premier hotel and where a necklace was recovered many weeks ago. On the plaza's adjacent corner, you spy your quarry: Villa Marina, the administrative center of the city and the home of Doge Ottavio Lepore. An impressive three-story building, it's the largest of the buildings in this plaza with three distinct wings. Delicate marbled archways and verandas line the exterior, giving an airy opulence to the seat of the city.

The central structure houses the Teiros Assembly, seemingly-elected officials who strive to enact policy to better the lives of citizens, or pillage and plunder coin for themselves. Amidst are other government offices, the bureaucratic lifeblood of the Republic that enact the will of the wider Brennisian Assembly. The South Wing, a smaller annex, holds the Museum of Imperial Brennisian and Maritime History, a rather dry collection of exhibits for the average tourist, yet funded in perpetuity by the Crown. Finally, your eyes meet the North Wing, the residential wing for the Doge. Though connected, each wing has a distinct front entrance, the main hall's past a marbled rise toward its second story.

A pair of Legionnaires are posted near the Assembly Hall's staircase, but you notice the wing entrances unguarded. However, you do notice a flurry of people coming and going from the Doge's residence, dressed as commoners and elites alike.

Nice place, Ciraco muses, admiring the grand structure. Not a bad commute either.

"Well, it looks like we should be able to slip inside," Ciraco says, noting the stream of people coming and going from the residence. "If anyone asks, we just say we're here for a meeting with someone and must be lost," he adds, looking to the others to check they are ready to head into the villa grounds.

Fioralba looks upon the Villa Marina with a sense of disconnection. Despite living most of her 53 years here in Teiros, the administration and management of the city had never been something she'd spent much time worrying about. Life amongst the Salucci Family had kept her too busy to consider what the wealthiest and most powerful were up to.

"Speak only when necessary, and walk with purpose," she reminds both herself and the others. "We are here performing our duties."

And what duties are they? she wonders. I suppose we might be the ensemble band. We certainly don't look like guards. Eyeing Grocco, Narciso, and Ciraco, she purses her lips. Well, I suppose those boys do.

"I'll leave the talking to you, you're much better at it," Nyx responds to Ciraco, unsure of how she'd handle dealing with the wealthy bureaucrats that lie within. "Once we find a secluded area, though, I can take a peek around with my shadow."

"Nyx's magic shadow should be able to get eyes on most of the interior - it's worked well before," Ciraco explains for the new members of the group. "If we find anyone who looks to be involved in setting up for the party, we should talk to them though," he adds clarifying Fioralba's instruction. "We're here to gather intel after all."

Grocco raises his eyebrow as the tiny lady starts speaking about looking around with her shadow. So I am safekeeping the mages today.
"Allright then." he replies in his gruff voice.

Fioralba watches the entrance for a moment, taking note of any people or items of interest that seem to be moving in or out.

Mechanics

Are there any carts arriving? Any supplies hauled in, or out? Any serving people that appear to be identifiable based on their type clothing?

Narciso follows the others and stuffs his hands in his pants pockets. He looks up at the building with a small bit of amazement but gives a stern shrug. "Your lead, Ciraco. I trust you." He says, and keeps an eye on their surroundings.

"I believe there to be a service entrance, possibly behind the plaza," Fioralba supposes. "If there are any deliveries, they would happen there."

She squints closely at some of the foot traffic. "Even so, I've seen at the very least a baker and a fellow gardener using the front entrance. Should we split into pairs and perform a walk-through?"

"We just going to pretend like we belong? It'd take some time, but we could change our outfits to blend in properly." Grocco replies, eyeing his cloths that would not aid him in pretending to be a gardener or baker, then those of his well-dressed companions.

"Disguises can always be a backup plan," Ciraco says with a shrug. "With this many people coming and going we should be able to get decently far inside without being queried," he adds.

"Pairs sounds good - less suspicious than singletons or a large group."

Grocco Nods. "Me and Fio then, that allright?"

"That works, Athiras and Narciso, and then Nyx and myself," Ciraco says, finishing up the division of the group into pairs.

"Fantastic," Fioralba agrees, beaming at Grocco. Ah, like old times. It is good we have kept in touch.

"Should we find ourselves in a bind, we will simply admit our blunder: we were in search of the museum! Let us be off, then," she says, walking with the towering orc around the side, looking for a service entrance into the North Wing.

Narciso shrugs, before waving Athiras to join him. "Come on, let's get in there and have a look around." He says and heads off towards the East Wing.

"I guess the main entrance is worth a shot," Ciraco says to Nyx, making for the entrance to the doge's residence.

Pairs, huh? Would be kinda nice to meet and speak with one of the newcomers more, Nyx thinks, though before she can speak her idea, her pairing is made for her. Oh, well, I guess I don't really know him all that well either. 

"Yeah, sounds good," Nyx responds, after separating from the others to walk with Ciraco. "I'm sure mostly only important people are heading through there. Maybe we will see someone who we can follow later."

"Right behind ya." Athiras adjusts his toolbelt, ensuring everything is in place before waving goodbye to any stragglers of the group.

Ciraco's mind races as they get stopped, trying to decide how to talk his way out of the situation. He quickly rules out making up a meeting, knowing that could be easily verified by the woman before them. Instead he decides to take a different approach.

"I'm terribly sorry, we did know that," the mercenary says. "You couldn't just let us have a little look around could you? We'll be no trouble. It's just our last day in the city and my wife here couldn't leave without seeing the estate."

Mechanics

Authority-1 Once per day, you can make a request from an NPC who is not openly hostile to you, rolling a Cha/Lead skill check at a difficulty of the NPC’s Morale score. If you succeed, they will comply with the request, provided it is not significantly harmful or extremely uncharacteristic.

Cha/Lead: [2d6+1]=9+1=10

"Here, take my arm," Fioralba whispers to her towering companion, offering an elbow to him. She stands tall and proud, stepping her way through the wide passage, slowly looking upon the cartage and contents — making no attempt to hide her curiosity. I am a woman of high society, she tells herself. And a woman of my standing cares little for the thoughts of lesser servants.

Perhaps we source a cart of our own. With all this shipping, I'm sure we could smuggle in some compromised food or drink, or party gifts. Or even ourselves in a box! That would be quite entertaining. We might need an extra large box for the sir at my arm, though.

Mechanics

What dey unloadin'?

Grocco gently grabs Fioralba's arm with his hand.

Narciso grimaces as he's stopped by the short woman, pausing to listen to her words. "I don't feel good about it, that's for sure. I mean, I love a party, but you're right, too much money is being funneled into this one." He says with a shrug. "I don't really have any words to commit to writing, unfortunately." He says, not really comfortable with having been seen here, by a reporter no less.

Ciraco & Nyx

The woman looks at you with weary eyes and lets out a deep sigh before giving a cursory glance around the room. "Very well. Let me be the first to welcome you to Villa Marina then," she says, her tone straddling the line between tired and friendly. "I'm afraid there's no guided tours for today but..." She gives you each a once-over. "You two look the respectable sort. Just mind the staff and don't wander anywhere off limits, yes?"

Fioralba & Grocco

Striding by arm-in-arm, you take a nonchalant glance at the contents being unloaded and brought in. You notice that they, for the most part, are furniture and other miscellaneous decorations: crates of unlit candles, delicate vases, spooled rugs and tapestries. You do, however, notice one cart containing half a dozen modest kegs, though their contents aren't readily clear.

Every so often, a spindly man in an ill-fitting suit steps out from the building, giving a cursory glance at the carts and checking a small leather-bound book he carries.

Narciso & Athiras

"I see," the young reporter says with a frown. She falls silent for a moment, her face contorting as she taps her chin. "Gods, what I wouldn't do to get into that party," she adds, almost thinking aloud now rather than interviewing. "Can you believe the Teiros Standard got a couple of invites? That rag gets invited, but not the most authentic news source in all the city? I bet their editor is bought and paid for!" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. "Ugh, sorry, rambling. One last question for our readers, if you'd oblige. Sorry, two. First, what do you think of the rumors that Khloros may actually be a dwarf? Sources are said to have spotted him in the cemetery late last night, quelling the dead with his booming voice. Breaking: Brennisian Mythos in Shambles: Khloros Really Divine Dwarf of Death?" 

She clears her throat awkwardly before starting again. "And question two, back to our original topic: what do you think of gallons of Imardanian wine being imported for the Doge's party? Is Doge Lepore consorting with the Elysians? Is he snubbing our local vineyards?"

 

"Of course, thank you so much - like I said, we'll be no trouble," Ciraco replies to the woman with a smile.

"Play along," Fioralba whispers to Grocco, patting his arm earnestly. She times her approach carefully, then, once the spindly man is glancing down into his logbook, she jams the heel of her boot in between the cobbles beneath and makes a dramatic descent to the ground.

"Oh!" she yelps, clutching her ankle. "Aurelia preserve!" She glances up toward Grocco and the spindly man, a pained look on her face as she lays in the street.

Classic slippin' Giaco. Well performed. Grocco suppresses a chuckle. With ease he swoops up the woman in his arms, and walks towards the building.
" 'Scuse me sir, would you be so kind and get a chair, the lady is hurt." Grocco demands of the spindly man as he tries to barge in past the man.

"Thank you so much, miss," Nyx responds, following Ciraco's lead in pretending to be a couple. "We've been dying to see the place our whole stay but kept getting held up. Do you have any recommendations for the best sights to see?" she asks, eagerly approaching the woman at a respectable distance. Perhaps somewhere secluded, with a nice view? 

Athiras ponders the questions the woman answered before stepping forward."So uh, as of question one, it's certainly possible. Spirits are just as active as you and me, so if he's calming those spirits then all for the better. As for your other question... it could just be a play at business management. Maybe he butters up one of these other manufacturers and gets them to try the local, maybe some of them come to work here."

Ciraco & Nyx

"Do enjoy your visit," the woman says with a weak smile, giving you a polite bow. The shatter of glassware echoes through the grand hall, emanating from behind the door of a side room straight ahead. She looks at the two of you and lets out a heavy sigh. "If you'll excuse me." With quickened steps, she departs to track down the origin of the clatter, leaving you amidst the handful of others within the hall. They pay you little mind, either not caring or having eavesdropped on your conversation with estate's overseer.

Fioralba & Grocco

"Oh dear!" the spindly man exclaims, an expression of shock and concern readily apparent on his thin face. He nods frantically to Grocco. "Oh, um, certainly, sir. Just a moment." He sets his book on a nearby crate, moving into the building with quick steps. He returns a moment later with an ornately-carved dining chair hoisted uncomfortably. He shambles over, his meager arms straining before he sets it down near Fioralba, letting out an exhausted sigh. He takes a steady breath, brushing off his coat to look more presentable and kneeling before the seat.

"Now, are you alright, madam? Shall I send for a doctor?" He asks, looking up at Fioralba. Some of the laborers have stopped their work, watching the situation curiously.

Narciso & Athiras

"I see, I see," the reporter says, jotting down the carpenter's words in the small notepad she carries. "So you believe it's a scheme for work-based immigration? Or perhaps... infiltration? First, these ships of Imardanian wine arriving at our shores. And then, the Elysians themselves. Disrupting our way of life and forcing us all to convert." She shakes her head incredulously. "I knew the Doge was a vile man, but if this theory holds water..."

She clears her throat, tucking her notepad away in a pocket. "Now, I'm sure I have taken up enough of your time so I'll restrain the questions I'm itching to ask. But perhaps, before I go, you two gentlemen would be interested in learning more about The Elphabus Gazette?"

 

"So," Nyx asks quietly to Ciraco, allowing her fake smile and false sense of excitement to fade at the woman's departure. "Up or down first?" she asks, motioning towards the archway and staircases.

Ciraco can't help but smile as his ruse works. "Let's stay down here for now," he replies to Nyx, heading for the archway. "Upstairs probably has more private quarters where we're more likely to overstep our welcome more quickly."

"Oh, oh, oh," Fioralba whines softly, allowing Grocco to lower her down into the chair. The baited hook has caught a fish, she thinks, narrowly suppressing the urge to smile.

"No, I should be quite alright. An old wound — from childhood," she says wistfully, massaging her ankle with gentle fingers. She peers up at the spindly man, a kind look on her face. "You are quite the savior, young sir. I must thank you, but... what is your name? And that of your supervising manager? I should like to insist your kindness and sense of duty are honored in welcome return."

"Works for me," she says with a shrug, before beginning to make her way towards the archway in question. She eyes the grandeur of the space as she walks, it reminding her of parts of the Aetherial Academy. The statues depict very different types of people, but the quality seems similar. I wonder if the Doge commissioned some of the same sculptors? It wouldn't surprise me if the Magisters hired fine artists fron Brennis, they did always love to show off. She sighs, before stepping closer to Ciraco, hoping to look more like the couple they are meant to be while also trying to avoid actually touching the man.

As the spindly man leaves to fetch a chair, Grocco easily lifts up Fioralba and sets her down on the crates, with the woman's dress sitting on top of the mans book. Grocco then gets down on his knee, and tries to swipe the book while cleaning her dress from the dirt and dust.
"It'll all be alright, the nice man is fetching a chair."

Ciraco & Nyx

Side by side, yet with room left for Aurelia, the two of you stride toward the archway straight ahead. This leads you into a short hallway, with two doors on each side. On the other side of one, you can hear a familiar voice, muffled yet clearly shouting in ire. Continuing down the corridor opens into an expansive two-story ballroom. A second-floor arched walkway spans the perimeter, and you spy assorted plush sofas and chairs throughout. The leftmost wall dazzles as sunlight trickles in stained glass windows. On the right, you see a half-dozen double doors, some propped open.

A twinkling crystal chandelier hangs above, made more impressive than the foyer's by the fresco across the ceiling. The central pieces depict the Brennisian gods and the heroes of eld. These are surrounded by expansive landscapes of the seas, mountains, and rolling foothills of Brennis. Much like with the statues in the entry hall, you notice many of the figures, male heroes and gods included, seem to have the same face.

Much like the hall, this room is bustling with assorted workers and laborers setting up tables, repairing fixtures, and waxing the parquet flooring. You receive an occasional glance of confusion, but most pay little mind and focus on their work.

Fioralba & Grocco

"Oh, um," the man replies, his pale cheeks flushing in embarrassed surprise. "It was nothing, really. I am just grateful you are alright." He stands to his feet, clasping his hands before Fioralba. "Ah, I am Beppo. And my supervisor? That would be Miss Mazzego. Oh, but she is terribly busy. Please, there is no need for such kindness and gratitude over my simple act." He looks back into the estate, bashfully, before returning his gaze toward Fioralba. "If there is nothing else though, I've my own duties to return to."

Grocco

With its owner distracted, you manage to swipe the book from its resting place unseen. The leather feels quite worn, and its binding thread frays at the ends, but it is still remarkably sturdy for such age. Brennisian text is debossed on its cover, reading Villa Marina Deliveries in your native tongue.

OOC

If you want to try and read through it now, roll a Dex/Sneak check. If waiting til you're alone, then no need.

 

"Yes, yes, if you insist," Fioralba says, offering a pained smile to Beppo. "Thank you again."

She looks up to Grocco, knowing the logbook is safe within his pockets. "I believe I can stand. Shall we continue on our walk, dear?"

We should remove ourselves before kind Beppo is the wiser.

"This makes Villa Salucci look like a third-rate back alley flop house," Ciraco says wide eyed as he takes in the impressive ballroom. "I guess this will be where the party takes place," he adds, trying to turn his attention back to the task at hand.

A painter or a doge must have been on an ego trip with that, he thinks, noticing the shared faces of the gods on the alfresco above.

Grocco nods at Beppo and offers Fioralba his arm again. "Yes we should, dear." It's been while since we called each other dear.

"Erm, no thank you. Got daylight to burn, too much to do today." Athiras nods, proud with his handling of newspaper politics that he's no interest to, before turning to Narciso as if waiting for his signal to keep moving.