Play@YSDC

London's first and pre-eminent luxury hotel. Just the sort of place to find a gambler with more money than sense - or who was afraid of riff-raff.

Llewellyn has the cab pull up outside the hotel, pays and tips the driver, then awaits the opening of the door by the smartly uniformed attendant taking advantage of the umbrella against the still persiting rain. Moving swiftly he mounts the steps and enters the hotel by the revolving door. Even despite many visits to the Savoy his breath is still taken away by the sheer oppulence of the establishment. Tipping the attendant two bob he makes his way slowly towards the front desk, all the while keeping a look out for a couple who seemed out of place in these surroundings. He was sure that anyone coming into a sudden fortune would dress and act slightly ostentaciously in these surroundings.
He takes his pocket watch from his vest pocket opens it and looks at the time.

Llewellyn observes that the time is about lunch o'clock, that the Savoy Grill does an excellent chop, and that they are still willing to extend him credit.

As he passes a few idle words with the maitre d', a practised curl of the man's lip in response to a braying laugh from a corner directs Llewellyn's attention to a couple at a corner table - the man wearing clothes that are new and styled without being stylish and obviously drunk, the woman gaudily dressed but distinctly unhappy-looking. "Here's to luck on the gee-gees!" the man brays, waving his glass.

"How absolutely awful" quips Llewellyn mimicing the Maitre d's look of distaste, "Has the Savoy' s fortunes fallen so low that they now allow riff-raff to dine here?"

OOC: Still working out where to spend my improvement points.

"Ah, M'sieu Llewellyn, this is the age of commerce, is it not? Money now speaks with a louder voice than breeding, non? And so we have this drunken fool here for lunch."

"There, there, old man, allow me." Llewellyn strolls casualy over to the table containing his target.
"I say old fellow, tone it down a bit. You are drawing unecessary attention on yourself, upsetting the clientile and embarrasing this charming lady, what". He bows to the overdressed female and smiles sweetly, "Anthony Llewellyn at your service madam"

The man turns an interesting shade of puce and splutters, half rising to his feet. "What.. who.. how dare you approach my wife!"

Llewellyn bows slightly, "The right Honourable Lord Anthony Llewellyn and I mean no disrespect to your ...wife" Llewellyn slowly stares around the room, "I merely advise restraint my good fellow. After all its dashed bad form to wave a chaps good fortune in the faces of those...less fortunate, one is never sure who is taking notice of them, especially if information on them is worth money in certain quarters."

I'm not nit-picky about rules, but I will note that Llewellyn has no points in Intimidation which seems to be the approach you are taking.
The man's face changes from belligerent to resentful. "Who sent you? What do you want?" he snaps, flopping back into his chair.

OOC,Apologies, I wasn't trying to intimidate him simply get his attention.

"Forgive me old fruit, I have no wish to frighten you or imply any danger. As i said my name is Llewellyn, Anthony Llewellyn and it seems we share a similar passion for the nags."
I turn to a nearby waiter and snap my fingers to gain his attention, "I say be a good fellow and bring something to drink, would you?"
"For myself a large single malt whiskey and for this chap and his good lady...?"

"Sherry, thank you" says the lady, in a thin, reedy voice. Now Llewellyn is closer, he can see that she looks a bit red about the eyes, as if she had been crying recently.

The man, meanwhile, is brooding on Llewellyn's remarks. "Certain quarters, you said. Which quarters would those be?"

I turn to the hovering waiter, "So a large single malt for me, a sherry for the lady and for the gentleman...well whatever he is drinking, please put it on my tab. As quick as you can old chap"
I gesture toward an empty chair, "May I old chap?" without waiting for an answer I sit down and lean back, "Which quarters? Oh yes although it is referred to as the sport of king's, nowadays one could easily call it the sport of the criminal"
I turn away toward the doors through which the drinks will come before turning back once more, "Your good fortune has been seen by another as too good to be true"

"Good fortune?" the lady abruptly squeaks in nearly hysterical tone. "My"
The man scowls at her with such venom that her head rocks back, as if at a blow.
"Look here." The man turns, flushed with anger, to Llewellyn. "Enough of your beating about the bush. What the hell do you want?"

I smile, "Ah, its not what I want old boy, its more what we both want" I wink a conspiratorial wink. "A little bird tells me you are in possession of something, from which we could both stand to gain substantially"
I glance back toward the door, "Where is that chap with the drinks?"
"Anyhow, that something is wanted by a certain party that has ways of getting what he wants. However it is within my power to satisfy his wants with minimal disruption to you and your good lady. For a small consideration old chap"

The man sneers. "Oh yes, and how 'small' a consideration are you talking? For your supposed help? I don't think they welcome beggars in this establishment."

The waiter arrives with the drinks tray.