Open The Market The Mysterious Vixen. Witch, Fortune-Teller, or Fraud?

Madame Lorelei smiled and nodded, looping one arm around Marianna's. "You're too kind to a stranger like myself, dearie." Her one good eye twinkled with just a hint of mischief. She could tell that Marianna was being careful around her, and she intended to take full advantage of it. The fact was, Lorelei knew her mind was fading. There were days she couldn't even recall if she had eaten. She needed to take advantage of whatever remnants of her mind were still functioning, and nestling herself into the safety net of the criminal underworld was her best bet.

Her mind wandered as she continued to lead Marianna to her stash. She still hadn't heard from Chokra. Could he still be looking for Silvertongue? She wasn't sure. Although he was close to the Songfoxes, he was a former captain under Ironpaw. Part of her wondered if there were some secrets he was still hiding.

"Ah, here we are!" Madame Lorelei said as they eventually arrived at an old, abandoned-looking hut near the docks. "I found this place empty, so I decided to stash my things here."

Madame Lorelei lead Marianna into the old hut, and they saw that the walls were lined with her 'knick-knacks'. In reality it was all a bit gruesome. There were various animal bones, jars of brine, some with eyes floating in them, others with more indiscriminate organs. The less disgusting of them consisted of many different plants and herbs in various jars or hanging from the ceiling. There were a variety of star and moon shaped decorations laying about, along with other strange symbols.

"Oh, my sweeties! I'm home!" Madame Lorelei declared to no one, shuffling over and picking up one of the jars. "Not to worry, my lovelies, we will get you all some much needed sunlight soon enough!"
 
Well, the collection was certainly... something. Marianna was glad that it had been a while since she'd had breakfast and she hadn't found time for a midday meal, because otherwise she might have lost her lunch. Somehow, surveying the grizzly collection, she found herself thinking that sunlight was the last thing it needed, if only because the sun itself might retreat at such a sight.

"It's certainly impressive," she commented politely. It wasn't a lie; that Lorelei could not only stomach but treasure such objects spoke to a well developed mental fortitude... or at least extreme desensitization. She peered at a jar of what appeared to be assorted eyeballs, and found herself disquieted at how they seemed to be looking back at her. "This will certainly set an appropriate ambience." She straightened up, looking to the elder vixen for permission. "I can have my brother and his crew come by to pack up the collection and transport them to the shop - once it meets your approval, of course." She hoped it would; the shop was perennially vacant due to a history of hosting some of Bully Harbor's most noteworthy and prolific murders and murderers. Such a gruesome reputation would only bolster the mystique of this vixen, or so Marianna hoped. Everything she had was riding on the success of this job.
 
"Oh, but of course!" Madame Lorelei sat a jar down. "I want to get to work as soon as I can. The quicker, the better!" She turned to Marianna. "I have not much time left in this mortal shell. I'd rather not spend it withering away in squalor."

She hummed to herself, starting to make her way back to the door. "Come along now, show me this shop of yours. And I'd also like to meet this brother of yours. If he is going to be hauling all my beloved trinkets across town, I want to be sure he is a strong and able-bodied beast."

She sighed and opened up the door. Despite her eagerness to get going, she felt her legs starting to ache. She had to remember she wasn't her young self these days. Meeting Marianna reminded her of the antics she had gotten into in her youth. Oh, how the seasons had gone by.

Despite this, she tried to hide her weariness as she walked back out onto the street, leaning more heavily on her cane.
 
Marianna noted the woman's fatigue, and offered her arm again for support. "The shop isn't far," she noted gently, "Nor is it far from there to our base of operations. Knowing my brother, that's exactly where we'll find him..."

---

The Lilting Lily was the kind of tavern that aspired to seediness in the same way that a teenage boy lounging against an alley wall with a toothpick in his mouth did. There were stains on the floors from spilled drinks of old, but no loose food - that would attract roaches, after all. There were assorted trophies from Furotazzi heists of legend hung high on the walls, including a framed contract signing over ownership of The Saturday Evening Smelt to Vito Furotazzi, a golden statue of a mackerel, and a chunk of what appeared to be the fresco decorating the ceiling of the Bully Harbor Opera House. All of these trophies were neatly dusted and polished, the cobwebs similarly cleaned out of the rafters. The ale available on tap was the cheapest possible and the mugs were of such imperfect make as to appear filthy, but all were actually neatly cleaned and the ale was, while not pleasant, at least inoffensive. The entire tavern would have given off the impression of 'trying too hard' had it in fact made any effort to try in the first place.

At a table in the corner, Falun Furotazzi was in the midst of a game of poker. The fox was smoking one of his awful cheap cigars as he obverved his opponent, a green-eyed (singular) rat with a truly impressive collection of prosthetic limbs and eye patch. The fox considered his opponent for a moment before setting his cards down in front of him. He leaned in and pushed his sizeable stack of chips into the middle. "All in," he declared.

Marianna sighed as she entered the tavern with Lorelei, spotting her brother in the midst of a game. "Best to let him finish this round," she advised. "He's useless if he's interrupted mid-game."
 
The rat sitting before Falun glared at his considerably smaller pile of chips. He looked at his hand. He had two sixes, and right now there were a six, a seven, and an eight on the table. He had at least a three of a kind, but if the cards were in his favor, he could get a straight or even a full house. Of course, he was about three ales deep, so he had a nice buzz going on, but not enough to entirely cloud his judgement. "I'll 'ave me another ale. Cuz I'm about to be filthy bleedin' rich." He chuckled, pushing his chips forward. "All in, then." He flipped his cards over. "Two sixes!"
 
Falun raised an eyebrow, recognizing the rat's reason to celebrate. "Three of a kind," he mused. "Potential for a full house. Very nice." He flipped his own cards, revealing a four and a five. "A straight," he commented. "So, the deciding factor is... do we flip a six, seven, or eight downriver?"

Falun reached to the deck, raising an eyebrow at Lilly, the somewhat sour waitress for the bar. Right on cue, she offered Greeneye his bottle of ale - a Varangian import at that - and Falun made his move. He slipped a card from within his sleeve, flipping it from above the stack and onto the table. "Ace," he noted. "Not so lucky. But, there's one more."

Falun had a rule for himself, one he kept in situations like this. He would cheat a little, keep one card in his sleeve to help tilt the odds, but whatever the last card was, that one was played honest. He might thumb his nose at Lady Luck occasionally, but he always let her have the last word. He flipped the card -

"A three," he noted. "Bad luck, friend. That means the pot is all mine... and you owe the house ten gilders for that ale." He leaned in and raked the pile of chips to himself, keeping the self-satisfied look off his face. Gloating was bad form, he'd learned through experience. His eyes gleamed as he looked at the rat, remarking, "Now, maybe we should talk about how you're going to settle your debt."
 
"Oh, Hell's Teeth!" Greeneye cursed, swiping the bottle and popping the cork off with his hook, greedily guzzling it's contents down in a matter of seconds before slamming it down and wiping his mouth. "I ain't out of it yet. We'll go again, an' I'll beat ye." He reached into his pocket, as if to pull something out. "Uhh... hold on... I'm sure I got it somewhere in 'ere." He stood up, laughing a bit nervously. "Hold on... hold on, just a second..."

He fumbled about in his pockets, patting himself down, before looking at Falun and giving him a weary grin. "Well... looks like I emptied out my coinpurse. What a damned shame-"

Greeneye didn't even finish his sentence, sprinting madly for the exit. "Ter Hell with the lot of ye bastards!" He shouted.

As Greeneye rushed for the door, he saw Marianna and Madame Lorelei. "Huh- what are ye doin' 'ere, old lady?!"

Not paying attention, he slammed into Silvertongue, who had just poked his head into the tavern. The two of them went sprawling to the floor.

"Silvie- what der hell?!" Greeneye groaned.

"Greeneye, I've been looking all over for you-" Silvertongue said with a wince as he sat up. "Ugh, have you been drinking? And why were you in such a rush?"

"Ah, well- um- I'm sure this fine gentlebeast will be more than 'appy to explain!" Greeneye looked towards Falun as he realized the window of opportunity to escape had closed just as quickly as it had opened.

Silvertongue looked over, seeing Falun, and gave Greeneye a confused and concerned look. "What did you do??"
 
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