closed

[dastardly]

WHO: Josias di Jaconissa The Tiger & Flint & Silver
WHAT: A meeting
WHEN: Late Drakonis
WHERE: A tavern backroom in Lowtown somewhere
NOTES: TBA

The room is just like most of the others Josias has been making far too much use of over the past month. Dingy with disuse, mismatched and third-hand furniture cramped in the space, the smell of old smoke and ale emanating thick from the walls and ceiling. This one has a window, which rare but ultimately makes no difference: the grime on the glass only casting the already grey sky a further tone darker, and levering it open for some air would negate the privacy acquired by being in the room in the first place. Still, he lingers by it, watching the limited view of the empty alley outside from behind the nondescript mask of the Tiger.

For anyone else, he might have sent another. He really has had enough of meetings like this since Starkhaven. Listening to complaints, mediating arguments, wrangling new contacts and establishing new routes. There was a balance before, between those who cared only for profit and those who cared for other reasons. A balance in himself which was kept much the same. But the continual waves of disruption rolling through the business has upset all that, and managing the mess in the wake of each will only hold them over for so long. A bigger change looms.

He's trying to ignore it, for the moment. Focus on what slim pickings of enjoyment he can find amongst the constant headaches. Word that Captain Flint himself was expressing an interest had shone out like a beacon in that sense. Enough to make it worth it to drag himself through the rain to another dank little room, letting the dull murmur of conversations and music downstairs drown out his thoughts as he waits.