At this time, Arthur, Clark and Delia were approaching a derelict-looking wooden building a ways away from the inn or the casino. Based on the condition of this and other buildings nearby, this was clearly a rougher, poorer part of Irris. The city’s wealth or lack thereof was not on Arthur’s mind though; he was thinking back to earlier that morning, as the contrast between the friendly environment at [i]The Homely Hearth[/i] and this bad section of Irris could not have been more apparent. 

He had gotten out of bed to see Clark reading a book; apparently the cricket had been up for a while now and was waiting for him. The rest had not restored his memory at all, but Arthur had been grateful for it all the same, as he felt refreshed from the previous day’s events. 

“Oh, good! You’re up. We probably have to leave for the casino soon, but you have to have breakfast here first. They make this thing called a ‘pancake’ that I’ve never seen before and it’s very good!”

Arthur was mildly amused at Clark describing of pancakes as this new and original food, but he did as he suggested. As promised, they were delicious. And like the cricket had said, they did eventually leave for their work. Both felt a little reluctant to do so, but they knew they had to.

Arthur briefly shook his head to focus himself on the present, remembering Delia’s instructions to them both before she had guided them to where they were now.

“Good, you’re here. I’ll only say this once, so pay attention. Stay by me and be alert at all times. Anything you learn at the meeting stays there. I’ll do all the talking. Do not speak unless spoken to, and then only say as much as you [i]have[/i] to. That is all.” And that was indeed all for a while; the woman had said nothing else to them throughout the walk, even now when they were right outside of the side entrance of the building. 

Delia knocked on the door in a distinct way, starting with one knock, then two, then three in rapid succession. An average-looking man wearing a chef’s apron answered the door.  “Good morning. See anything great today?” he asked.

“Prosperity for all I meet,” the casino owner responded.

“Please come inside,” the man said before he led the three of them down an old wooden staircase to a cool basement, dimly lit by candles. Inside was a wooden table and three matching chairs; two were occupied by different individuals and next to each of them were two others standing next to them, presumably their bodyguards. One of the sitting men had his visor up; he was an older man wearing a uniform similar to what to the city guards the pair encountered yesterday wore, but it was much more decorated with medals than theirs had been. His two bodyguards were definitely city guardsmen; they were both wearing their standard helmets. Neither of them would have been recognizable based on their uniforms, but upon reading their minds, Clark recognized the voice of one of them as the red-haired man who had spoken to Arthur yesterday.

The other man seated at the table was much more dour; his expression bordered on anger, with the “crown jewel” of his expression being a large scar in the shape of an X on his face. He was clearly an old man, with gray hair and wrinkled skin, though his body wasn’t frail like many people his age. His bodyguards were menacing as well. One was a tall, thin man wearing thick metal shoes. Despite the slight absurdity of him having to crouch over in order to fit in the basement, his presence was quite intimidating. He also had noticeable black bags under his eyes and short, thick hair with the same color. The other was a short, pale-skinned, fat man wearing what looked like a thin silver suit covered with spikes. Unlike his associate, this man was relatively relaxed for the circumstances. Though Arthur had no way of knowing this, Clark learned with his mind reading abilities that the tall man’s name was Gordon and the short man’s name was Roland.

“Hello Chief, hello Edgar” Delia said, addressing the man in uniform and the scarred man in turn.

“Good morning Delia,” the Chief responded.

“Enough pleasantries, let’s get down to business. Any word on any of the five keys?” Edgar asked.

Arthur’s eyes popped open for a moment. What were these keys and was that what he woke up with? The amnesiac hoped someone would elaborate on them, but that would not happen right now.

Delia rolled her eyes. “No. Like I remind you every meeting, I’m a businesswoman, not some treasure hunter.”

“Don’t be smart with me, woman.” Edgar scolded.

“Is that even possible?” Delia retorted.

“Take it easy, please,” the Chief requested, “let’s not let our tempers get in the way of business.”

Delia nodded, and Edgar reluctantly did so a moment later. “Good. And speaking of business...” the Chief held his hands out, waiting a moment before the other two each put a large bag of coins in his hand. “Perfect.” The man greedily counted the coins as Edgar spoke next.

“Onto other matters then. How are my drug sales at your casino?” As Edgar and Delia discussed their respective drug and gambling trade in more detail and at length, Arthur started feeling uncomfortable and guilty. This subject matter wasn’t something he wanted to get involved in and he felt bad for dragging Clark into this as well. The cricket was uneasy as well, but for a different reason. Sure, these less-than-reputable matters weren’t ones he wanted to be a part of, but there was a bigger concern here. Edgar and the Chief were planning on attacking Delia today.