#elsewhere

Thus he gets a good working knowledge of the household and who is where. He moves a little stiffly, true, and hasn't much appetite, but is a solid worker as he gets direction.

A few other Servants nod approvingly.

Just your average, harmless boggan.

As he gathers intell, and memorizes the lay out... he also picks up some more gossip. Impossible not to really. But the knack is finding the RIGHT Gossip and guiding that way...

(Manipulation plus Subterfuge)

/roll 8

Perhaps it would be wise to learn more about the details of the work; for instance, any allergies or preferences in the household? Perfumes to avoid? Sensitivities to texture?

THis proves to be a good question... "Well, Sir Aarn is the reason we can't have anything PEanut Butter related. Locks that Balor up fierce.. he could die"

And ... "The Lord hates wool... the texture drives him nuts"

He tuts and commiserates. "Terrible, just terrible. Silk?"

"Oh he loves Silk"

"True, he often tries it on even when he doesn't need to change"

"Must be soothing." a sage nod.

"Must be nice to afford it so easily" A chuckle from another servent

He chuckles along; ah, to dream...

Soon, someone pulls him over and says "Lunch Break, an hour... drop by the kitchen" Directions are given

"Oh, thank you very much I'm sure." and he limps along.

He finds the kitchen, expecting a boggan , but rather he finds a rather obese male Satyr. Perhaps living proof of the phrase 'never trust a skinny chef' , he clearly partakes of his own wares.

"I.... I was told to come here?"

"Oh you must be the new fellow," The grump grins "Well, I'm the Chef. Everyone calls me Cooky. Have a seat," he gestures to a round table in the corner of the kitchen, "Unless you wnat to eat else where. You have any allergies I should know about?"

"No, Chef. Cooky."

"Well, what we've got here is a hearty Beef stew with my own mix of peppers and herbs, or if you prefer, i can make you a hero sandwich to beat the band with a light salad on the side. Dessert optional"

"The beef stew would be wonderful I'm sure."

"Coming right up. You want me to take it lighter on the peppers or do you want it as the Chef intended?"

"As Chef intended, of course."

"You sir," Cooky grins "Are a gentleman and a scholar. What's your name?" He asks as he starts serving a delicious smelling stew

"Abner, Ch... Cooky."

"Good to meet you," the man says and hands over a steaming bowl, and to go with the soup , some bread, lightly buttered, that he can dip if he wishes

"Thank you so much." He eats hungrily but neatly.

"So ,how'd you come to join us?"

"W... I was traveling through and we heard there might be work. Somewhere to stay, some... safety?"

"Cold out there" He nods "I know."

(Perception plus Empathy)

/roll 6

Cooky seems warm and chatty, a good natured 'well met' kind of fellow, but while he can't tell what it is , 'Abner' is sure there's more under that that's not so happy

Abner tries to draw it out unobtrusively.

He says "You know, if it doesn't work out for you, or if he ...asks too much, then let me know if you need a few pointers. I know a few places in Grass"

"That's very kind of you." he eats a little more, then slows as if a thought occurs ".... asks too much?"

"Oh... well, you know" Cooky says "some folks aren't comfotable making oaths"

"Oaths.... is... does this lord require oaths?"

A sad expression slips past his congenial look "for some"

"Oh." in a small voice.

"Apologies" the satyr says a blush after drifting "Pay it no mind what a foolish satyr says"

"No."

"No, it's good to know. Just in case. Why... or when... does he need an oath?"

"Forget I said anything," Cooky assures.

(Perception plus Kenning)

/roll 7