Mattrick the tracker stood silently in the shadows of the underground bar talking in undertones to a potential client. He was tall, dark haired and had piercing eyes, yet few who encountered him could describe him well. He was talented like that. However little if anything ever escaped his notice. Such was the case when Daisy and Benji walked into the same illegal establishment.
Only those with the right connections or with the right type of password (mainly silver or gold), got past the burly ogre-like bouncer at the door. If his size or looks didn’t intimidate would-be door crashers his heavy iron bound cudgel certainly would.
This place, the Iron Duccat was typical of port towns in that there was always some establishment similar to it in such places. The smuggling trade and the less than honorable dealings men sometimes have always took place in such seedy illicit settings. It was filled with whores, and thieves for sure but they would not ply their trade here if they valued their lives and livelihoods. This was a place strictly for business and perhaps simple relaxation if you happened to be an outlaw.
The local constabulary was paid well to overlook such places and often they derived secondary benefits from this symbiotic relationship, such as sometimes being informed by the owner of said establishment when something untoward was going down. Particularly if the owner wasn’t cut in on the deal or disliked the gang doing the job. Every one paid homage to the owners of these dark holes in the ground. This avoided complications later when it came time to pay the bill.
Benji knew of this particular location from Old Wiell who told him what to say to the doorman and what to pay him. Good old well-aged Verhovian Rum from across the broken straits was the proprietor of the Iron Duccat’s favorite. Particularly since Haverston did not often get custom from that far away, legal or otherwise. Benji stole a small jug from the captain’s stash before they escaped the ship.
Mattrick continued talking with his prospective client until their dealings ended. He then sat at his corner table, back to the walk and watched the couple of ‘lads’. One for sure wasn’t a lad but the other might be. No beard so nothing was for sure. Not that a beard always correctly determined one’s gender Mattrick thought amusedly. The two were talking with Arrogant Arnock, the bartender and manager of the Iron Duccat. Apparently they were trying to arrange for something, Mattrick couldn’t quite make out over the din of the room.
>>Boom<<
The door crashed splinters flying everywhere. Gorge the bouncer hefted his cudgel and took a fighting stance. Everyone else near the door cleared away quickly. Through it came three iron clad knights in midnight black platemail bearing maces and morning stars. Their colors were a golden cheveron crossed with a silver circlet, indicating (to those who knew the local heraldry) they worked for some duke. Mattrick quickly assessed their danger as eminent and sidled to his feet and backed into the shadows.
The knights turned toward the bouncer who looked scared to death and gestured. He dropped his cudgel and sped past them, terrified, into the night air. Stepping into the center of the room, one of the knights in black addressed the crowd which was silent as mice being stared down by a hungry cat.
"We seek one princess Dairessa Goodfell. Any who know of her whereabouts will tell us all they know. Immediately!"
Suddenly the room filled with babbling voices as everyone tried to quickly disassociate themselves from any princesses. Daisy looked frightened and panicked. Benji cursed under his breath, finally cluing into Daisy’s true identity as he viewed the emotions run across her face. He would never have dragged a real princess down to such a lowly place had he known. Nor would he have let her accompany him into the back alleys. Of course now her lack of understanding about the dire desperation of those denizens of the alley was clear to him. No princess would know much of such suffering normally.
He was not sorry for teaching her this lesson. In fact his old resentments towards the nobility was rising in his chest now, seeking to take over his body and shout to the world where and who the princess was. But he remembered Daisy’s selfless acts on the ship and her concern for him during the sea battle. He compared this to his feelings and realized he could not betray her. Nor allow her to be caught by these men. Surreptitiously he dragged her arm leading her further into the back of the crowd.