Merchants of Elm (IC)

[Another_Poet]

Lonna:

The man shrugs.

* * * * * * * * *

Rustin:

Bert fumbles around for the silver rings and plucks them from your hand. He counts them by touch, smells them, and passes them back and forth from hand to hand.

"Well, I don't suppose this bit'll be worth your time or money, but there's a Mr. Umad Passhar in town. Just showed up last night. Just seeing to his business, I'm sure."

((Rustin: You may remember Mr. Passhar. He once hired you for an assassination gig. Target was a Rashid Matar.))

* * * * * * * * *
Everyone else:

((Don't wait on Natsume or Acanthe; just assume they tag along as y'all head out to get your yawl. Once I know if Saker is going I'll post the next part.))

[Lonna]

Lonna


Taking the shrug as permission, Lonna found a convenient corner and sat down with a yawn.

"William, I'm going to rest for a while. Alert me if there's trouble, or if someone comes in asking about the Kites or Achyllea," she said, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. She closed her eyes and prepared to go into a light doze.

[McMindflayer]

Rustin does his best to keep emotion from his face. Sure Bert says he's blind, but that doesn't mean he really is. And He's sure Jonae isn't blind. He keeps his face as under control as he can, His Jaw tightens slightly and he looks a little harder at Bert. He takes a breath then asks. "Hmm, your right. That information isn't much, but what this business of his is... now that might be worth something." Rustin says, and the hand he put in his pocket to fetch more money just jingles it in his pocket, so Bert can hear.

[Psionic Dog]

Saker
((Saker borrows one of the beds in the cottage and takes a nap))

Saker leans against a window and watches the misty drizzle frame the main building outside and lets silence fill the room. There are so many memories here...

With a grunt the uncle grabs his spear out of habit and runs out the door after the group. He's had enough silence and solitude on his trip down: noise and company are the order for today.

[Another_Poet]

Rustin:

Bert sniffles then starts coughing like crazy. When he can breathe again he continues.

"Oh, the usual. Just looking into prices on trade goods, and he made an inquiry about a safari to hunt mammoths. He certainly doesn't seem to be looking for trouble, or if he is, he hasn't said nothing about it."

Behind you Jonae curses loudly. When you glance in her direction you see she has damaged one of her leatherworking shears and she has as sour a look on her face as a woolly gator choking on a rotfish.

* * * * * * * * * *
Family:

The walk to the ferry dock doesn't take long, maybe twenty minutes. The streets of lower Elm Hill and the East Bank are quiet, with few people out other than delivery carts. You pass the Law Stone, a stocky pillar with (outdated) laws engraved on all four sides, and just as much space dedicated to praising a long-dead king.

River Gaze Avenue, or the Gaze as it is often called, is busier. As the main street that runs along the river its cafes are already open for the morning and you can see the well-dressed sons and daughters of gentry squandering money and passing time. None of them pay you any mind.

As you near the ferry dock, a liveried courier approaches you. He can't be older than eleven and looks like a toy doll wrapped in his oversize mantle. “Are you Garrin Kite?” he asks. “For Achyllea of Elm?”

Looking you over, he doesn't wait for a reply. He pulls one of many leather scroll cases from his satchel, checks the seal, and hands it to you. Inside is a piece of rough vellum bearing a short message in neat, clear letters. It is formally addressed to Garrin and says:

Dear Sir,

In regards to the matter of the rainbough Essentia, please bear Witness that we have decided to ship with your Company, provided the judicious nature of the contracte and the vouched guarranty of safe delivery and speedy repaiment by your own hand. The product must be handled with greatest Care and watchful Eye, secured fast and attended closely. Damages will be at your own liability. If you still desire to contracte please find us at Goldtop Taurine on 5 May, late morning preferable.

Yours very sincerely,
Gregory Cantor
Pontiff
Master Geomancer

The courier waits expectantly.

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

'Greatest care'... 'own liability'? It's not like there's anything for us to lose anyway...

Garrin turns to Natsume, Draego, and company. "Well, at least we know we have cargo to take, unusual as the contents may seem." To the courier, he says, "please relay the message that I will be there as requested."

[Another_Poet]

The courier bows slightly. "I would love to..." he says softly, an unspoken "but" at the end of his sentence. He gently clears his throat and opens one hand.

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Managing not to roll his eyes at the unspoken demand, Garrin hands the courier 5 copper rings to expedite the message. A small investment, I hope. And if we fail, it won't be enough to matter anyway.

[Another_Poet]

The courier smiles and bows deeper. "Thank you Sir. I will deliver your message and I wish you a wonderful day." He heads off, presumably looking for his next mark.

You reach the closer of the two ferries, the northern one, shortly after. The ferry has already left but the crossing doesn't take long; it won't take more than 20 minutes to return. The woman who waits at the dock is old and gruff, and doesn't seem to care how cold it is outside. She wears a leather vest and a colourful skirt. She informs you that round-trip prices are 9 copper per person, an outrageously high price. Of course, crossings usually are that high in May. A lot of people need to cross and aren't going to say no.

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

The uncle doesn't react at the price. He's had enough shocks already to make something as small as an inflated price for passage practically unnoticeable.

He fidgets quietly at the side fingering one of the three silver rings he wears on his hands. It's more than he'd normally pay, but if that is the price to keep up with the family today, so be it.

[McMindflayer]

Rustin

Rustin pauses as he mulls this over. He pulls out two silver and puts it into the informants hand. Rustin was nervous with this man in town. What was he doing here? Mikos might have it right with the idea to leave town... Rustin opens his mouth, but shuts it again as he hears the curse behind him and looks over. He wondered at her reaction, but it did seem to make sense. Rustin started to feel paranoid and decided not to pay some silver for information on a job. He had spent enough time wandering around. Mikos might have something for him. So he Sighs "Alright, Thanks Bert. Have a good day." He says and starts heading out of the Shoe Shop, turns and says "And I bid you farewell as well Jonae" He then leaves and goes to Mikos'

[Sornas]

((Sorry about the delay, had a super busy weekend @.@))

William

William nodded and began to keep a close watch on the surrounding area. If there was one thing he had learned, it was not to let his guard down when someone was sleeping, it was asking for trouble.

Finding a comfortable place near the desk, he sat cross-legged with his back to the wall, watching and listening to every person who came in.

[Another_Poet]

Rustin:

Mikos, as usual, is cursing when you see him. He seems to be cursing at one of his workers, one or more of his customers and several of the gods all at once. When he spies you he turns his shouting toward you as well. "You can have a [deleted] seat in the [deleted... deleted deleted] back. As you can probably discern my [deleted] hands are full with these ignorant [deleteds of deleteds]."

Although his employees seem to take Mikos' berations with a sense of humour, one of the men at the bar is a bit more fragile and is quickly cowed by the local boss's tirade. You see no sign of the Tailor as you enter the little back room where you soaked your feet earlier.

When Mikos finally comes to join you He has a bottle of liquor in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. He makes use of both, dabbing the sweat from his brow and gulping from the bottle before speaking.

"Here's the deal," he says. "There's something coming together that'll probably pay some decent money but it's gonna be about two weeks before it goes down. Maybe a little more. I know it's a wait but it'll be good work. Quick, exciting, a chance to make history, all that mammoth heap. Since you're staying here in Elm you have to deal with the market in Elm, and this is the top of the market. Should I set up an intro for you or what?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

William/Lonna:

William notices more than a few shifty characters pass through the little office. Of course most cargo handlers are suspicious to begin with, but judging by the weapons worn there are more than a few mercenaries or yawl guards about.

If Lonna isn't really sleeping, she notices the same. But so far no recognisable family.

[Another_Poet]

((Okay, seeing no objections, I'm gonna assume everyone pays the ferry fee and moves on. Please deduct 9 copper rings from your sheet. You get a little token that must be presented to make the return trip. There is no expiration date for the token; it can be used at the ferry anytime and from either side.))

As you make the crossing the rain finally stops altogether. No sun, of course, but no rain either. Acanthe hasn't said much all morning, and for someone who's about to take to the skies again she seems to be in a particularly sullen mood. Maybe it's just the weather.

She stays quiet during the whole walk through the Facing, Shanty Town, and the Warehouse District. It's not until you near the office of your yawling agent that she brightens up.

"Hey!" she yells at a big man who is walking alongside one of the warehouses. He has the strange features of a foreigner and a black ponytail dangling from his head. He wears leather armour, common enough among yawlers, but with some kind of crumpled robes sticking out from underneath. She beams at him "Orgin, is that you?"

((Note to Lonna/William: the group is still outside and a ways down the street so probably not in view of you yet.))

((Note to Rustin: Just wanted to make sure you saw the post above. Your move.))

[Sneeks]

Professor

The large scholar was still fidgeting with his robes as he travelled near the warehouses, trying to eavesdrop on getting passage south. A very reflective puddle in the ground made him stop in his tracks and finger at a small streak of grey hair in his otherwise black hair.

"My word, I've finally sprouted some gray," he mused. "Seems like my worries have finally caught up to me... Well, at least now I'll look a little more distinguished."

It was hearing his last name called that he looked up, searching the source and deciding the name was familiar enough to not take off running. Spying Acanthe, he realized... well, he realized nothing. He needed to buy some time before he could piece together who this person was. Years of studying history, teaching the flute, and a variety of other oddjobs jutted miserably between now and the memory of this person...

"Oh, hello there!" He flashes a disarming grin. "And it's 'Professor', now. My studies have finally paid off..."

"So... How are you today, and what brings you to the warehouses?"

[Another_Poet]

Acanthe shrugs. "Yawls, what else. You're back in town? You flying?"

[Sneeks]

Professor

The grin widens as the professor sees a possible chance at moving south. "Yes, and yes."

It begins to occur to him that Acanthe must be a pilot as well... and he was starting to realize something was amiss. If there was a journey to begin soon, then there should be some element of excitement. Every trip he embarked on had an edge of thrill to it, though he only stood at the keel for a few years.

Screwing his furry black eyebrows together, the professor took the next query in a more lecturing tone, "Er.. forgive the intrustion, but are you alright? If you're here to take The Trip shouldn't there be more hustle and bustle to ya?"

[Another_Poet]

Acanthe frowns. "Well, it's a long story. The company hasn't fared so well since you last saw it." The woman pauses, as if remembering for the first time that there are other people with her. "Oh, Orgin--er, Professor--" she chuckles, "Do you remember the young Kites here? Or perhaps Mr. Saker?"

[Ghal Marak]

Venistara

Venistara stepped forward and held out her hand to the professor. "Greetings, I am Venistara Kite. It is a pleasure to meet you." She may have said it was a pleasure, but he eyes did not reflect the feeling. After shaking his hand (if he so chooses) she stepped back to stand with her siblings and give them a chance to introduce them selves as well.

[Sneeks]

Professor

Professor Orgin almost bowls over Acanthe with his enthusiasm, clasping gently for Venistara's hands. "Venistara! My dear, you were just the tiniest of jewels when last I left this town! You have grown, haven't you? A fine young woman, indeed. I can remember a small ring I once passed your way and... Oh. Wait," he turns to the others present. "Let's try my memory for the rest of the clan here."

"We have.. Garrin, weight of world is on your shoulders, no? Draego, hopefully less mischevious than before... and..." A finger moves to the professor's lips in a tapping motion, studying Saker. "The brother? You're not a child, I know that... but there's an air of family about you still. Baxtor, is it?"

Upon hearing the response, he gives the clan a thorough gaze and says, "Well, so many of the clan out in force... and here where travel's made. Out with it, then! A journey's to be made, correct?"

[McMindflayer]

Rustin quietly heads into the back room, allowing Mikos to yell his bloody head off at anyone else. Mikos is a nice guy, but when he gets yelling, not even Rustin wants to bear the brunt of that.

Rustin waits a few moments when Rustin comes in he smiles at the man, hoping for good news and apparently it is. He frowns at the "Business in Elm" part, since that usually means Yawls. "What exactly is this job that will pay out well?" He asked a little suspicously.

[roninkelt]

Draego

grins mischeviously when his name is mentioned. There are a few vague memories of the professor, but nothing definite.

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

The uncle had been standing to the side smiling listlessly to the side as he quietly watched the animated professor.

He flinches slightly when the man addressing him mentions his brother.

"Saker actually" The man says. "Brother of Orikedes... did you know him?"

Saker is wearing worn leather armor and is leaning on a spear as if it was a walking staff. He is of average hight and slightly on the thin side. He is still travel-stained from his journey into elm, and his slightly rough appearance and leathery weathered skin shows he is accustomed to outdoor work and rough living. His eyes are dull and appear aged, as if he has seen much of life, little of it good. If the professor has much skill with reading the emotions of others he might note the presence of fresh pain just below the surface.

[Sneeks]

Professor

The professor's jovial nature turns a little more solemn after watching Saker's reaction. "Yes, I did. I worked for him a ways back running yawls." Hoping to place more emphasis on his respect, he looks Saker right in the eye. "He was a good boss... a good man."

After pleasantries are over, the professor will attempt to sneak in a conversation with Acanthe. "Working for the family then, I take it?"

[Another_Poet]

Professor:

Acanthe nods. "Yeah. Do you want to come look over this yawl with us? I could use an extra set of eyes. Or wait, you have work of your own to do, I suppose."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Rustin:

Mikos shrugs. "Some guy just blew in from down south. Obviously has money, and obviously looking to settle an old score of some kind. But he wants to lay low a little bit first from what I can tell. And that's all I can say on my own. If you want more then you know what to do. Take the job, I'll arrange a meeting with him, and the usual finder's fee applies."

[Another_Poet]

((Everyone:

The OoC thread has now been moved out of the recruiting forum so it won't expire in a month. As far as I can tell the new URL is the same as the old one but just in case you have any problems you can find it here:
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=70758 ))

[Sneeks]

Professor

"My own work?" The professor's grin came flashing back into his face as he approached a sarcastic note of glee. "Yes.. my own work of dusty tomes and aged scholars against the chance to reminisce within a gigantic wooden ship powered by a magical device that few either understand or operate?"

The professor chuckled at his own cleverness.

"No... I'm pretty sure the choice is clear here. A second pair of eyes I'll be!"

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Not even trying to hid his impatience to get going, Garrin looks visibly relieved that the conversation is over and that they can proceed to get working.

[Another_Poet]

((I'll take that for a segue... ))

The group enters the yawl agent's office, and find it more crowded than might be expected. The small space is partitioned off from the rest of the large warehouse, and through an open door at the back comes the sound of crates being dragged about. A bored-looking man sits behind the desk going over long lists of numbers in a register. Sheafs of vellum, a wax seal kit, ink, sand, and other office supplies cover the desk haphazardly. The man pays you no mind when you walk in.

Standing beside the counter is a bare-chested worker waiting impatiently for whatever the agent is adding up. A single stool off to one side looks broken and uneven; on the other side are two kids. A bright-eyed if filthy boy sits on the floor with his back to the wall, looking at you as if you are the first interesting thing he's seen all day. Bandages cover his shoulder.

Next to him is a girl. It's hard to tell anything else about her with her hood drawn up over her head, except that she carries a rapier and a wisp of red black hair pokes out of the fabric around her face. She seems to be asleep.

[Sornas]

William

William watched the newcomers with interest, as he had been for almost everyone who had entered.

He was trying his hardest to stay vigilant, both for the people they were looking for, and for anyone who might be looking for them. The last thing either of them needed was more trouble at this point.