DoT: Dinner and an Exchange

Cedric Bloodblade was sitting on the porch of the Overlook, apparently studying the bay below through the transparent floor, when Vallista arrived. He'd brought one of his lieutenants with him -- Dalia, she thought, a human woman in a gray robe who resembled him more than a little -- and a single visible bodyguard, also human. 

She'd brought the same accompaniment: her newest lieutenant, Derlina the half-orc, and Gazin, the lizardfolk woman who normally served as her secretary.  Derlina, she'd brought because Vallista wanted the woman to get a better feel for how these things were done; Gazin, because she was a skilled and vicious fighter. She didn't expect bloodshed here; despite everything, the Overlook was still neutral ground, and in beggars territory. 

Cedric was a remarkably handsome man, with salt-and-pepper hair and medium-dark skin. He looked up as she approached, nodded, stood, and then gestured at the trio of chairs across the table from him.  "I thought you might prefer not to eat inside," he said cautiously. 

Vallista ignored that; she was going to have to enter the Overlook sooner of later, if only to prove that she could. Still, this... she could work with this. "Cedric Bloodblade," she said. 

He nodded. "Vallista Greycloak."

He waited until she seated herself, then sat back down. He took a moment to study her, and she took the same time to study him in return.

"Are we enemies?" she asked abruptly, and he froze. 

"Ah," he said after a moment. "So this is about that crew that's been causing all the trouble."

Vallista nodded. "I'm told they were seen chatting with one of your couriers, and I have at least one Greycloak who swears they're working for you."

Cedric held up a hand, the movement compellingly graceful. "Yes and no," he said. "They hit us too -- the courier was Faldor, bringing in the monthly cut. Same one I sent to talk to them. He found them again, and they're in our territory so we've been keeping an eye on them."

Vallista waited. 

"You know the rules," he continued after a moment. "They crossed the Guild, they have to pay. Thing is, I think the Red Blades really are moving on us. So I figure they can pay by helping us solve the problem they started."

Vallista hesitated, then asked: "You're sure it's the Red Blades?"  

"Well, it wasn't them this time." He paused, then nodded. "Yes, I think it's actually the Red Blades. Or some of them, anyway."

"Huh," said Vallista. "You realize this crew might be the same ones who killed my father?"

"Word is, everybody in that room died by the same dagger blade. Is that true?"

"How the hell do you know that?" she asked. 

Cedric shrugged. "Look, I'm not trying to be indelicate here, and I'm sure your father's death is still pretty raw."

"You have no idea."

"Maybe not." He smiled. "I couldn't believed you invited me to meet you here. Talk about sending a message."

She tilted her head. "You liked that, did you?"

He nodded, still smiling, and then his expression became serious. "My word, on the Guild and my place as leader of the Mist Eyes: my people didn't kill your father, and you and I aren't enemies. Nor are the Greycloaks and Mist Eyes. We have enough to deal with on our own turf."

Despite her reservations, Vallista found herself believing him. It wasn't just his manner; the idea that the Mist Eyes were trying to move on them had never made any sense. "I want to talk to them," she said. 

Cedric considered that. "They refused my invitation to meet at our headquarters," he said, "but they asked to set up a meeting with me at the Ogre's Retreat tomorrow night. I know this isn't done, but... my business with them strictly concerns the Red Blades. You want to come along, see that for yourself, I'm open to it."

Vallista managed not to gape at him, but it was effort of will. 

He continued, "I'd need assurances that your people won't show up and try to kill or kidnap them."

"My word as a Greycloak," she said automatically. 

"Done, then," he said easily. 

"Done," she said. 

One of the waitresses had finally come out onto the porch, and they took a minute to put in their orders. The young woman retreated, looking only slightly troubled by the fact that they'd all shown up in armor. A couple of Beggars were watching them from nearby bridges, and Mother Lardner doubtless knew they were there already, but that was to be expected. 

"So," said Cedric, "What I want to know -- and what I'm hoping to learn tomorrow -- is who exactly is causing all this trouble. If this crew is unwilling tools -- and that's what they told Faldor -- who's pulling the strings?"