"Surely couldn't, sir, surely couldn't, " she said, smiling widely. "Just wouldn't want these poor motherless lads here to get the wrong idea, you see. Got to have standards, sir, got to have standards. Where'd we be else, eh?"
She doubted he properly understood but then he did have the look of a man who was having a bad day. She took out a little sign from her cart and hung it up by the bunting. It read; Back in Five. Ladling out a cup of cider, she took a sip and offered some to the guardsman, wondering how far this went. She'd heard of this rebellion stuff but never paid it much mind. Governments and leaders came and went but the people stayed the same. Whatever else happened she'd still be hawking pies tomorrow.
"Prime stuff, sir, prime stuff," she said, "warm yer cockles on a cold day."
Around them, the streets continued to go about their business, but there was definitely the sensation of ears being cocked around them. People never liked to miss a show and so far, Ren and this Ferric were the most interesting thing happening. She made a show of scratching her head and sorting through her produce, as though thinking.
"Popular spot this," she said, glancing up at the tavern, "the tiger, I mean. See all sorts coming and going. I swear, eh? Stopping in for a quick pint. These days, who'd blame em, eh?"
She shivered, rubbing her hands together and taking another theatrical sip. Vintas was very much like a coiled spring. He was playing it cool, but there was definitely the hint of lurking violence.
"Just the other day I saw one of them high-born types in here, could you credit it? Cotter or Cottler or something. Hungry looking lad. Wouldn't buy anything though," she said, sniffing haughtily. "Goes in, books a room and leaves. Don't come back til the next day. Meantime, poor Desorte comes and goes. Makes you wonder, don't it? Always with that funny bag and always looks lighter when he leaves."
Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ferric accepted the cider eagerly. It was a bloody cold day. For a moment he considered some sort of conspiracy that the cider was laced with something, but it wasn’t even a remote possibility for a wide variety of logical reasons. His work must be making him paranoid. To be entirely fair to him, it was a safer state of mind than the alternatives.
“Cottrel, I’m guessing is the name you’re looking for.” Ferric was a bit awed. Desorte was no titre, as far as they were aware, and had no government file as a result. To think he had one of those uptight synevive families in his clientele was already difficult to believe, but a Cottrel? They were a bundle of holier than thou fanatics, as he understood it. In other words, perfect for Marn’s upper crust. Just what was Desorte hiding in those little statues that enticed men of such high status?
“Just what in Teonidus’ name would they want with the statues?” He voiced. “Not the sort for drugs or sedition. Must be a black sheep... Could you describe the Cott to me, by any chance? ‘Wonder if I could get the family’s cooperation.” Ferric chuckled, looking wistfully to the sky. “Ah, but I shouldn’t tip my hand. With their honorable reputation at stake, they’d never go pulling any punches.”
Ferric thought about his other leads while estimating the amount of bishani Ren would have made in the time he had spent speaking. He drained his mug of cider and set the empty vessel on the cart, placed the bishani beside it, then made as if he was about to head for the inn. He paused before making further moves and turned back. Pulling his scarf down so he could be heard more clearly, he added, “Safe to say Desorte knows I’m onto him though. Any idea where he’ll scurry off to, if honor permits you to tell me?”
“Cottrel, I’m guessing is the name you’re looking for.” Ferric was a bit awed. Desorte was no titre, as far as they were aware, and had no government file as a result. To think he had one of those uptight synevive families in his clientele was already difficult to believe, but a Cottrel? They were a bundle of holier than thou fanatics, as he understood it. In other words, perfect for Marn’s upper crust. Just what was Desorte hiding in those little statues that enticed men of such high status?
“Just what in Teonidus’ name would they want with the statues?” He voiced. “Not the sort for drugs or sedition. Must be a black sheep... Could you describe the Cott to me, by any chance? ‘Wonder if I could get the family’s cooperation.” Ferric chuckled, looking wistfully to the sky. “Ah, but I shouldn’t tip my hand. With their honorable reputation at stake, they’d never go pulling any punches.”
Ferric thought about his other leads while estimating the amount of bishani Ren would have made in the time he had spent speaking. He drained his mug of cider and set the empty vessel on the cart, placed the bishani beside it, then made as if he was about to head for the inn. He paused before making further moves and turned back. Pulling his scarf down so he could be heard more clearly, he added, “Safe to say Desorte knows I’m onto him though. Any idea where he’ll scurry off to, if honor permits you to tell me?”
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
"Well there was talk about..."
Ren started, then shook her head dismissively. There was still the sensation of listening ears. This was quite good street theatre after all, even if it meant standing in the cold to see it. She moved to take down the sign from her cart, glancing around with a smile. The bulk of the Tiger's Crossing loomed over them as she moved. It was an odd sensation, she thought, oddly reflective of the city itself; so innocuous, but it loomed over everything and everyone in it. She turned back to Vintas, smiling.
"But, no...that's just gossip, innit, sir? Ain't my place."
She fussed about, tidying up some small details on her cart and reorganizing her wares. Satisfied, she stepped back and wrung her hands together for a second before turning to face him again, her face pensive. She took a breath, as though settling her mind.
"Tall man, slim build," she said, after a moment, "black hair, blue eyes. Real pale too, sort of intense, I recall. And he had a duelling scar. Real fine. Right here."
She pointed to her right cheek and drew a small line there, shrugging.
"Couldn't say as for his family, sir, I don't know them at all, so I don't. But he does come here regular."
Smiling happily, she pulled down the sign and cleaned off the cider mug, draining her own as well. The wind caught the bunting and she waved cheerily to a man she recognized coming up the street.
"I might know of some of his other customers, if that's what you mean. Where they go to and that. You seem em around, after all, don't you? Don't take following. Him? Probably uptown. Somewhere quiet."
Ren started, then shook her head dismissively. There was still the sensation of listening ears. This was quite good street theatre after all, even if it meant standing in the cold to see it. She moved to take down the sign from her cart, glancing around with a smile. The bulk of the Tiger's Crossing loomed over them as she moved. It was an odd sensation, she thought, oddly reflective of the city itself; so innocuous, but it loomed over everything and everyone in it. She turned back to Vintas, smiling.
"But, no...that's just gossip, innit, sir? Ain't my place."
She fussed about, tidying up some small details on her cart and reorganizing her wares. Satisfied, she stepped back and wrung her hands together for a second before turning to face him again, her face pensive. She took a breath, as though settling her mind.
"Tall man, slim build," she said, after a moment, "black hair, blue eyes. Real pale too, sort of intense, I recall. And he had a duelling scar. Real fine. Right here."
She pointed to her right cheek and drew a small line there, shrugging.
"Couldn't say as for his family, sir, I don't know them at all, so I don't. But he does come here regular."
Smiling happily, she pulled down the sign and cleaned off the cider mug, draining her own as well. The wind caught the bunting and she waved cheerily to a man she recognized coming up the street.
"I might know of some of his other customers, if that's what you mean. Where they go to and that. You seem em around, after all, don't you? Don't take following. Him? Probably uptown. Somewhere quiet."
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ferric nodded. “In that case, thank you kindly for the meal and excellent service.” Ferric put the remaining bishani in his back pocket. “Might I have your name in case I need to follow up?”
The drop of his head extended into a short bow before he spun and walked off, pulling his scarf back up to cover his lips and mouth. People with honor were such odd sorts. Ferric had never understood the concept. Near as he could tell, it meant performing certain actions in specific, inhibitory ways to achieve the same result you would otherwise. Ren here had just shown him a perfect example. Initially refusing the money, she had wound up accepting a significant portion of it when he had phrased things differently.
True, she had claimed that there were others who wished to see it in such terms as he had come to describe his bribe. They were guilty of self-deception too, as far as Ferric was concerned. His way of life was much more candid, in its own way. While it might be somewhat cliché, he still preferred to phrase it thus: at least he was honest about being a bastard.
The guardsman picked up his pace, as ideally he would catch the innkeeper somewhat off guard. As he pushed open the door, Ferric was happy to see that at least something had gone his way today. The innkeeper was in the process of putting the musician’s lute behind the bar.
Ferric took the opportunity to approach while the man was thus distracted. By the time he was looking up, Ferric was at the bar. He wrapped the wood surface twice with his knuckles, ensuring he had the innkeeper’s full attention and drawing notice to his gauntlets, still worn prominently.
“Marn guard, as you can plainly see.” Ferric stated plainly. No sense in the subtle approach any longer. “Loyalist. Your musician has stirred up quite the hornet’s nest, hasn’t she? I’d like to speak with her as soon as she returns.” Ferric thought about it, and then shrugged. “And I’ll be taking that lute. Evidence, collateral, whichever you prefer.”
The drop of his head extended into a short bow before he spun and walked off, pulling his scarf back up to cover his lips and mouth. People with honor were such odd sorts. Ferric had never understood the concept. Near as he could tell, it meant performing certain actions in specific, inhibitory ways to achieve the same result you would otherwise. Ren here had just shown him a perfect example. Initially refusing the money, she had wound up accepting a significant portion of it when he had phrased things differently.
True, she had claimed that there were others who wished to see it in such terms as he had come to describe his bribe. They were guilty of self-deception too, as far as Ferric was concerned. His way of life was much more candid, in its own way. While it might be somewhat cliché, he still preferred to phrase it thus: at least he was honest about being a bastard.
The guardsman picked up his pace, as ideally he would catch the innkeeper somewhat off guard. As he pushed open the door, Ferric was happy to see that at least something had gone his way today. The innkeeper was in the process of putting the musician’s lute behind the bar.
Ferric took the opportunity to approach while the man was thus distracted. By the time he was looking up, Ferric was at the bar. He wrapped the wood surface twice with his knuckles, ensuring he had the innkeeper’s full attention and drawing notice to his gauntlets, still worn prominently.
“Marn guard, as you can plainly see.” Ferric stated plainly. No sense in the subtle approach any longer. “Loyalist. Your musician has stirred up quite the hornet’s nest, hasn’t she? I’d like to speak with her as soon as she returns.” Ferric thought about it, and then shrugged. “And I’ll be taking that lute. Evidence, collateral, whichever you prefer.”
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
*Posting as Svireppy*
Svireppy gave the guardsman a puzzled look for a moment. After his short stare of confusion, Svireppy let out a roar of laughter. After calming down and having a drink, he wiped his mouth with his large, hairy arm and said with his deep voice “Well, my man. Is my entertainer in some kind of trouble? Wouldn’t give you any special attention? Tell you what-“ He chuckled. “-you might find her in the lap of any Synevive or Descendant that puts bishani in your pocket.” He wore a wide grin to follow this statement.
Once he was satisfied with his mocking a moment later, he placed the lute on the bar. “Take it. Just be careful. It’s not my ass or my job that’s on the line if she doesn’t get it back.” His face wore an expression of both warning and amusement. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall behind him as he kept this expression.
Svireppy gave the guardsman a puzzled look for a moment. After his short stare of confusion, Svireppy let out a roar of laughter. After calming down and having a drink, he wiped his mouth with his large, hairy arm and said with his deep voice “Well, my man. Is my entertainer in some kind of trouble? Wouldn’t give you any special attention? Tell you what-“ He chuckled. “-you might find her in the lap of any Synevive or Descendant that puts bishani in your pocket.” He wore a wide grin to follow this statement.
Once he was satisfied with his mocking a moment later, he placed the lute on the bar. “Take it. Just be careful. It’s not my ass or my job that’s on the line if she doesn’t get it back.” His face wore an expression of both warning and amusement. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall behind him as he kept this expression.
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
“Funny thing about that,” Ferric said in response to Svireppy’s last comment. He folded his hands neatly about the table and smiled serenely. “It is. You see, I could already have you beaten for showing disrespect to the guard. I could also bring you in for obstruction of justice, interfering with evidence,” He tapped the lute on the countertop, “and given time I’m sure I could figure out whatever scam you and the lady are working here. I’ve already got a few ideas.”
“Now, I’m a Loyalist. At the moment, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Drug deals, conspirators, explosives. All sorts of crime you’re better off not knowing about.” Ferric leaned in. He was even generous enough to lower his voice. “However, if I find myself unable to pursue those goals, it seems I’ll have little else to do but to expose the little operation you and she happen to be pulling here.”
Ferric reached out and clapped Svireppy’s shoulder twice, as if he were greeting an old friend. “It so happens that I have little intention of making waves in upper class circles by walking in on their pleasantries with the intent to chance upon the dear lady.” Ferric smiled and stood, declaring the situation final. He had intended to give Svireppy half the week, but this smug creature before him needed to be brought to humility. “I trust I’ll see her at Fort Omenbryn by tomorrow morning.” He scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes, deciding to test out his best theory. “With whatever she stole from Desorte intact. You can bet your inn there will be consequences if I do not.”
With that, Ferric flicked his knife back into his bag and strode for the door. There was nothing to be done for it now but wait.
“Now, I’m a Loyalist. At the moment, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Drug deals, conspirators, explosives. All sorts of crime you’re better off not knowing about.” Ferric leaned in. He was even generous enough to lower his voice. “However, if I find myself unable to pursue those goals, it seems I’ll have little else to do but to expose the little operation you and she happen to be pulling here.”
Ferric reached out and clapped Svireppy’s shoulder twice, as if he were greeting an old friend. “It so happens that I have little intention of making waves in upper class circles by walking in on their pleasantries with the intent to chance upon the dear lady.” Ferric smiled and stood, declaring the situation final. He had intended to give Svireppy half the week, but this smug creature before him needed to be brought to humility. “I trust I’ll see her at Fort Omenbryn by tomorrow morning.” He scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes, deciding to test out his best theory. “With whatever she stole from Desorte intact. You can bet your inn there will be consequences if I do not.”
With that, Ferric flicked his knife back into his bag and strode for the door. There was nothing to be done for it now but wait.
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
*Posting as Svireppy*
After the guardsman took his leave, Svireppy went about his business: tending to his patrons and such. After at least an hour had passed, he decided there was no more threat and walked outside for a moment. He headed down a long alley across the street from his inn until he saw a familiar face. There is a man Julius frequents for information who is willing to help out a trusted client, Svireppy being one of them thanks to his relationship with Julius.
He payed the man his usual fee and gave him only what he needed to know about the situation. The job was to find Julius and relay the message, emphasizing the points of the inn’s danger (being Julius’ bank) and the lute. Julius was sure to return as quickly as possible with these things in mind, Svireppy thought.
With that taken care of, he headed back to the inn and got back to work. All he could do was wait for his musician to make the stupid decision. The more he thought about it, the more he hoped that Julius was worth trusting. The guardsman hadn’t shaken him, but Julius wasn’t known for hanging around that kind of trouble. There was no point in fretting over it, he thought, only time would tell.
After the guardsman took his leave, Svireppy went about his business: tending to his patrons and such. After at least an hour had passed, he decided there was no more threat and walked outside for a moment. He headed down a long alley across the street from his inn until he saw a familiar face. There is a man Julius frequents for information who is willing to help out a trusted client, Svireppy being one of them thanks to his relationship with Julius.
He payed the man his usual fee and gave him only what he needed to know about the situation. The job was to find Julius and relay the message, emphasizing the points of the inn’s danger (being Julius’ bank) and the lute. Julius was sure to return as quickly as possible with these things in mind, Svireppy thought.
With that taken care of, he headed back to the inn and got back to work. All he could do was wait for his musician to make the stupid decision. The more he thought about it, the more he hoped that Julius was worth trusting. The guardsman hadn’t shaken him, but Julius wasn’t known for hanging around that kind of trouble. There was no point in fretting over it, he thought, only time would tell.
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ren waited until Vintas had gone inside, thinking. Smiling, she resumed her trade, passing out food and warm cider to customers with a will. Only the very, very observant would have seen some people leave with small, folded notes in addition to their food, as they scattered to the winds of Marn. She stood in the cold, advertising her wares to all and sundry as they walked, but her eyes kept scanning. The trick to observing was to see without being seen to watch. So she simply existed as Vintas marched back out of the inn with barely a glance in her direction. She knew she hadn't been forgotten but still, she had to be careful regardless. The people she had in mind were very...protective of their privacy. They would be very alert and very desperate, especially if Desorte was on the run. He'd have to arrange a courier and fast. But who?
She was unseen when Svireppy plodded out of the inn and down the alleyway across the street and was equally unseen when he plodded back. She knew who he'd handed the information to. Marn wasn't a big enough city to hide things like that. Svireppy was a funny man. He wasn't scared of the guard. He really, really should have known better. She returned her thoughts to business and began to pack up with a flourish, getting behind her cart and continuing on her way. She had a route to ply after all and it never paid to stray too far from it.She visited eight locations over the course of the day, bumping into random people and seeking small pieces of information. The signs were promising and worrying at the same time. Eventually, as the day wound down, she was outside the guard barracks, trying in vain to interest passing guardsmen in a new kind of armour polish.
Really, all she had to do was wait. The pieces were already in motion and she had a fair idea of what the outcome would be. Still, she was curious as to what the players would do. Or more precisely, she was curious about how they would do it. Marn was such an amazing hole of a city. So many possibilities killed in the crib. She remained hopeful, however. Some avenues of business were worth the effort. Especially now.
She was unseen when Svireppy plodded out of the inn and down the alleyway across the street and was equally unseen when he plodded back. She knew who he'd handed the information to. Marn wasn't a big enough city to hide things like that. Svireppy was a funny man. He wasn't scared of the guard. He really, really should have known better. She returned her thoughts to business and began to pack up with a flourish, getting behind her cart and continuing on her way. She had a route to ply after all and it never paid to stray too far from it.She visited eight locations over the course of the day, bumping into random people and seeking small pieces of information. The signs were promising and worrying at the same time. Eventually, as the day wound down, she was outside the guard barracks, trying in vain to interest passing guardsmen in a new kind of armour polish.
Really, all she had to do was wait. The pieces were already in motion and she had a fair idea of what the outcome would be. Still, she was curious as to what the players would do. Or more precisely, she was curious about how they would do it. Marn was such an amazing hole of a city. So many possibilities killed in the crib. She remained hopeful, however. Some avenues of business were worth the effort. Especially now.
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ferric strode out to the front doors of the fort and waited, the lute dangled by a hand. Having already filed his reports, he had little better to do. One of the many perks of his position among the Loyalists was the ability to shirk duty with a proper play of the cards. Take this instant. Were he an ordinary guard, he would be on patrols. But a specialized assignment such as this afforded him great leniency to act as he pleased. Since the musician could show up at any point, he had a perfectly valid excuse for sitting down, doing nothing, and getting paid for it. Manipulation of systems was truly the greatest asset one could hope to wield in life.
This was not to say he had been wholly lazy. He had chosen to look up the musician’s file, only to find it unremarkable. That didn’t mean much on its own, of course. The government was not omnipresent, and couldn’t catch every petty criminal. Desorte himself hadn’t attracted much attention until a jealous merchant had informed the guard of the ludicrous prices he was charging.
It had surprised him to find that the musician who worked at the Tiger’s Crossing was actually male, and had initially prevented him from finding the proper documents. Ferric whistled once as he left the gates, relieved at having caught that. That could have been quite an embarrassing mistake to make. Surely, anyone waiting for a humorous conclusion regarding his false impression was to be sorely disappointed.
Rather bored, Ferric decided to try his hand at playing the lute. He leaned against the wall and plucked at the strings, producing a discordant set of noises that could only loosely be defined as a melody. One of the passing guards turned to Ferric and smirked. “I wouldn’t quit your job anytime soon.” He joked.
“Ah, but what if I danced?” Ferric shouted back, before doing a silly jig which was every bit as poorly executed as the music. The sight sent the guardsman roaring with laughter as he left. Ferric chuckled and let the lute fall back to his side, held gracelessly by the neck.
Content to wait yet longer, he would have remained still if he did not hear a familiar voice over the bustle of moving armor. It sounded suspiciously like the woman from before, the one outside the Tiger’s Crossing who had kneed the musician right in the groin.
It was rare to find a Loyalist who believed in coincidences, and Ferric was no exception. He strode over, but was carefully to make certain his stride seemed much more casual than purposeful. His face the picture of camaraderie, he said to her, “Why, if it isn’t the lovely lady from before. What a pleasure seeing you here.” Ferric gave her one of his little half-bows. Though internally he regretted calling attention to the fact that she was here due to the fact that it might tip her off as to his suspicious temperament, he outwardly only chuckled, “And selling armor wax this time. Quite clever, but I believe you'll find the guard takes care of its equipment rather effectively. You wouldn’t happen to be here to give me another tip while I wait for the darling lad?”
This was not to say he had been wholly lazy. He had chosen to look up the musician’s file, only to find it unremarkable. That didn’t mean much on its own, of course. The government was not omnipresent, and couldn’t catch every petty criminal. Desorte himself hadn’t attracted much attention until a jealous merchant had informed the guard of the ludicrous prices he was charging.
It had surprised him to find that the musician who worked at the Tiger’s Crossing was actually male, and had initially prevented him from finding the proper documents. Ferric whistled once as he left the gates, relieved at having caught that. That could have been quite an embarrassing mistake to make. Surely, anyone waiting for a humorous conclusion regarding his false impression was to be sorely disappointed.
Rather bored, Ferric decided to try his hand at playing the lute. He leaned against the wall and plucked at the strings, producing a discordant set of noises that could only loosely be defined as a melody. One of the passing guards turned to Ferric and smirked. “I wouldn’t quit your job anytime soon.” He joked.
“Ah, but what if I danced?” Ferric shouted back, before doing a silly jig which was every bit as poorly executed as the music. The sight sent the guardsman roaring with laughter as he left. Ferric chuckled and let the lute fall back to his side, held gracelessly by the neck.
Content to wait yet longer, he would have remained still if he did not hear a familiar voice over the bustle of moving armor. It sounded suspiciously like the woman from before, the one outside the Tiger’s Crossing who had kneed the musician right in the groin.
It was rare to find a Loyalist who believed in coincidences, and Ferric was no exception. He strode over, but was carefully to make certain his stride seemed much more casual than purposeful. His face the picture of camaraderie, he said to her, “Why, if it isn’t the lovely lady from before. What a pleasure seeing you here.” Ferric gave her one of his little half-bows. Though internally he regretted calling attention to the fact that she was here due to the fact that it might tip her off as to his suspicious temperament, he outwardly only chuckled, “And selling armor wax this time. Quite clever, but I believe you'll find the guard takes care of its equipment rather effectively. You wouldn’t happen to be here to give me another tip while I wait for the darling lad?”
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
"Ah, Special Guardsman!"
Ren turned around with a flourish, proffering her tray of various polishes and waxes. Behind her on her cart, a number of spiritedly painted tunics were displayed, each emblazoned with the logo 'Holler if you hate Rebels' in large, friendly letters. His gait was calm and friendly and his voice was open, but his eyes gave him away. Alert and focussed, they were cold and out of place with the smile. She met this with an even wider and sunnier smile, eyes sparkling. She chuckled at his assertion.
"Of course they do, of course," she said, "gentlemen and ladies o' class. Doesn't mean they couldn't use a little extra help, eh, sir? Doesn't mean that. Heavens no!"
She shook her head ruefully, almost wagging a finger at his manner. This deal, her manner said, and these items are not to be missed. She could play the game as long as necessary. Cocking her hips slightly, she reorganized a few items on the tray and leaned in closer. The comings and goings of the guard happened around them, and she noted the changes, still waving and calling to individuals as the mood took her. They were a hard bunch but they were still human. More or less. They were bound to crack sooner or later.
"But if you're not interested in polish, sir, well, sir, I have leather wax here too, sir," she said with a chuckle, "I even have some oil for that very impressive sword there if you're short."
When he pressed after other clues though, she let the tray sag slightly in disappointment.
"Oh, sir! You got me wrong, sir. You got me wrong. I can't be interferin' in Guard business. Bad for your health that."
Turning to wipe away a tear, she went back to stand by her cart.
"I couldn't even say if it was that bastard's last drop you messed with, sir. I couldn't even say that. Not if you bought the whole cart, sir. Not even then."
Ren turned around with a flourish, proffering her tray of various polishes and waxes. Behind her on her cart, a number of spiritedly painted tunics were displayed, each emblazoned with the logo 'Holler if you hate Rebels' in large, friendly letters. His gait was calm and friendly and his voice was open, but his eyes gave him away. Alert and focussed, they were cold and out of place with the smile. She met this with an even wider and sunnier smile, eyes sparkling. She chuckled at his assertion.
"Of course they do, of course," she said, "gentlemen and ladies o' class. Doesn't mean they couldn't use a little extra help, eh, sir? Doesn't mean that. Heavens no!"
She shook her head ruefully, almost wagging a finger at his manner. This deal, her manner said, and these items are not to be missed. She could play the game as long as necessary. Cocking her hips slightly, she reorganized a few items on the tray and leaned in closer. The comings and goings of the guard happened around them, and she noted the changes, still waving and calling to individuals as the mood took her. They were a hard bunch but they were still human. More or less. They were bound to crack sooner or later.
"But if you're not interested in polish, sir, well, sir, I have leather wax here too, sir," she said with a chuckle, "I even have some oil for that very impressive sword there if you're short."
When he pressed after other clues though, she let the tray sag slightly in disappointment.
"Oh, sir! You got me wrong, sir. You got me wrong. I can't be interferin' in Guard business. Bad for your health that."
Turning to wipe away a tear, she went back to stand by her cart.
"I couldn't even say if it was that bastard's last drop you messed with, sir. I couldn't even say that. Not if you bought the whole cart, sir. Not even then."
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Julius approached the fort in his usual attire. He spent what little time he had to prepare bathing and grooming himself rather than thinking of a decent plan. He had what he thought was enough coin to bribe a guard on him, but decided to stash what he had stolen from the man the day before elsewhere. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but knew what needed. He needed the guard to back off, at any cost. He needed to find out what the hell he’d just gotten in the middle of. And he needed to make sure none of this would blowback on Svireppy. Julius respected Svireppy and, in a way, cared for him. He showed up today for that sole fact.
As he was nearing the fort he noticed a scene that didn’t please him. A woman with a cart spoke with a guardsman holding a lute. Dammit, he thought, as if this isn’t bad enough. Now she’s here too. It couldn’t be helped. He had to continue if he wanted to help Svireppy and get Euphie back. He started trying to formulate a plan or strategy but hadn’t yet gotten a good read on the woman. She was smart, brash, and a little unpredictable. He winced at the thought of repeating yesterday’s events.
He stopped fifty feet from them and neither had looked his way yet. He closed his eyes a moment and collected himself. This was going to be dangerous and tricky, but something had to be done about all this. After a brief moment he approached the pair and said upon reaching them, “I don’t think it’d be smart to do this where prying eyes could see. We should speak privately.” He glanced at the woman for a moment and then back to the guardsman. “Is she a part of this? She clearly knows the man you’re really after.”
His voice was cold. It was in no way unpleasant but certainly wasn’t his usual melody of a voice. He made no attempt to carry himself like a ditzy girl; he didn’t want to. Whether or not it would work on this man, he was angry. He wouldn’t let it show, but he was in a corner and ready to strike if need be. He was done playing games for now, it wouldn’t serve him any purpose with this lot anyway. He had a sudden urge to make a fool of the man and spoke. “By the way, I’m a man.” He gave a very fake grin, one that in no way matched his angry eyes. He didn’t care anymore. This was the first time Julius had ever lost…no. He hadn’t lost yet. And he would be damn sure not to let that happen. He now had an enemy, maybe even two. And he would not let them win.
As he was nearing the fort he noticed a scene that didn’t please him. A woman with a cart spoke with a guardsman holding a lute. Dammit, he thought, as if this isn’t bad enough. Now she’s here too. It couldn’t be helped. He had to continue if he wanted to help Svireppy and get Euphie back. He started trying to formulate a plan or strategy but hadn’t yet gotten a good read on the woman. She was smart, brash, and a little unpredictable. He winced at the thought of repeating yesterday’s events.
He stopped fifty feet from them and neither had looked his way yet. He closed his eyes a moment and collected himself. This was going to be dangerous and tricky, but something had to be done about all this. After a brief moment he approached the pair and said upon reaching them, “I don’t think it’d be smart to do this where prying eyes could see. We should speak privately.” He glanced at the woman for a moment and then back to the guardsman. “Is she a part of this? She clearly knows the man you’re really after.”
His voice was cold. It was in no way unpleasant but certainly wasn’t his usual melody of a voice. He made no attempt to carry himself like a ditzy girl; he didn’t want to. Whether or not it would work on this man, he was angry. He wouldn’t let it show, but he was in a corner and ready to strike if need be. He was done playing games for now, it wouldn’t serve him any purpose with this lot anyway. He had a sudden urge to make a fool of the man and spoke. “By the way, I’m a man.” He gave a very fake grin, one that in no way matched his angry eyes. He didn’t care anymore. This was the first time Julius had ever lost…no. He hadn’t lost yet. And he would be damn sure not to let that happen. He now had an enemy, maybe even two. And he would not let them win.
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ferric looked over his shoulder at the new arrival, and recognized the young man from before. Even without all the makeup, he still looked feminine. What an unfortunate young man this was.
Unfortunate, and impudent. Ferric restrained the urge to simply punch him in the jaw as he recommended they go somewhere private to discuss events. His words were innocuous enough, but his tone was another thing entirely. It seemed everyone wanted to be difficult with him lately. Ferric had half a mind to start making examples out of those who did.
It was apparent that Julius was under the impression that Ferric was still mistaken as to the musician’s gender. “So I’ve heard, Julius the Beautiful.” Ferric let the boy simmer, refusing to change his stance such that he truly faced the boy. It was a dismissive set of body language. Ferric just couldn’t help himself from goading him on as he waited patiently, saying nothing for the longest time. A sparrow flew overhead in the silence.
Just when it looked like Julius might be about to say something, Ferric spoke up. “As for privacy, hardly necessary. You just walked right up to the fort, and that’s not accounting for yesterday’s events. Everyone who wants to know already knows. We’ve gone loud with this one. Changers, by this point anyone with brains is going to assume she’s in on my side of the investigation as well.” Ferric jerked a thumb in Ren’s direction. No point in not getting that one out there. Maybe she would become more cooperative if she thought those who might judge her methods already thought poorly of her.
“So! You’ll want the lute back, I take it.” Ferric held it out, still holding it be the neck. It probably put plenty of undue stress upon the instrument, which was not constructed to be wielded in such a manner. “Tough shit, kid. I’ll be keeping this as collateral until this is done. It is an awfully nice lute, besides.” He dropped it gracelessly back down. On a hunch, he ground the base of the instrument against the street, watching carefully to gauge Julius’ reaction. “Whatever you stole from Desorte? It falls into my hands. Now.”
Unfortunate, and impudent. Ferric restrained the urge to simply punch him in the jaw as he recommended they go somewhere private to discuss events. His words were innocuous enough, but his tone was another thing entirely. It seemed everyone wanted to be difficult with him lately. Ferric had half a mind to start making examples out of those who did.
It was apparent that Julius was under the impression that Ferric was still mistaken as to the musician’s gender. “So I’ve heard, Julius the Beautiful.” Ferric let the boy simmer, refusing to change his stance such that he truly faced the boy. It was a dismissive set of body language. Ferric just couldn’t help himself from goading him on as he waited patiently, saying nothing for the longest time. A sparrow flew overhead in the silence.
Just when it looked like Julius might be about to say something, Ferric spoke up. “As for privacy, hardly necessary. You just walked right up to the fort, and that’s not accounting for yesterday’s events. Everyone who wants to know already knows. We’ve gone loud with this one. Changers, by this point anyone with brains is going to assume she’s in on my side of the investigation as well.” Ferric jerked a thumb in Ren’s direction. No point in not getting that one out there. Maybe she would become more cooperative if she thought those who might judge her methods already thought poorly of her.
“So! You’ll want the lute back, I take it.” Ferric held it out, still holding it be the neck. It probably put plenty of undue stress upon the instrument, which was not constructed to be wielded in such a manner. “Tough shit, kid. I’ll be keeping this as collateral until this is done. It is an awfully nice lute, besides.” He dropped it gracelessly back down. On a hunch, he ground the base of the instrument against the street, watching carefully to gauge Julius’ reaction. “Whatever you stole from Desorte? It falls into my hands. Now.”
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Smiling broadly, if somewhat glassily, Ren reached into her cart and withdrew a small, fur-clad flask. Uncapping it, she took a swig of the liquid inside, swallowing quickly and expelling her breath with an explosive 'Pah!'. Putting the flask back in its place, she stepped back and resumed advertising her wares to passers by, also adding the promise of hot food and drink into the bargain. 'Who are these people? I don't know them.' Was the message being sent. They had their little game that had negligible impact on hers as it involved measuring certain parts of the anatomy. She resisted the urge to shake her head. They heard but did not listen.
"Armour polish! Leather wax! Hot Cider! Not to be missed!"
Their little gathering was drawing some looks but most tuned her out on instinct. It was the beauty of what she did. She just became part of the landscape. One or two guardsmen looked interested but a glance at Ferric in war mode seemed to change their minds. Not for the first time she questioned herself for getting involved in this. No, she had to trust that in the end it would be worth it. The streets would once again be safe for people like her. That was all that mattered. Well, almost all.
"Sausages and skewered meat! Commemorative tunics! Best prices in Marn!"
"Armour polish! Leather wax! Hot Cider! Not to be missed!"
Their little gathering was drawing some looks but most tuned her out on instinct. It was the beauty of what she did. She just became part of the landscape. One or two guardsmen looked interested but a glance at Ferric in war mode seemed to change their minds. Not for the first time she questioned herself for getting involved in this. No, she had to trust that in the end it would be worth it. The streets would once again be safe for people like her. That was all that mattered. Well, almost all.
"Sausages and skewered meat! Commemorative tunics! Best prices in Marn!"
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Julius could read this man like a book. His initial assumptions were correct. The man is stern, cruel, hardened over the years of duty, willing to do whatever it takes, and isn't used to losing. Why would he be? He's always had the upper hand, until now. Julius ignored most of the man's words as they sail by him in the cold wind, but glanced for a moment at Euphie when the guard ground it into the stone.
Julius watches for a moment before meeting the man's gaze with his cold eyes. Eyes that could be called dead or void by the more sensitive. He will pay, thought Julius, but in due time. Julius was weaving his web to ensnare his new foes. He would play the hurt child, a familiar role but different now. His pain would start as rage, then the waves would cease to crash and his pain would be a snowstorm that would freeze even this man's heart.
"Is Desorte the man from The Crossing? The thing looked useless so I tossed it aside, like the trash it was." He emphasized on callign it trash. "It was a small figurine, like you would see on a cheap game board. Wooden and carved with little care. There was nothing inside it, I checked. No way to open it."
He watched as the words sank in. He knew the guard wouldn't believe his story, he shouldn't have. It was a horrible lie. After a moment he spoke again. "If she's your 'partner' then why can't she lead you to him? You could use some whore to get him where you want him. Take him for all you want..." He leaves his lips slightly parted as he stops. Almost as if to continue speaking.
During all of the trading of harsh words and silent plotting, Julius all but ignore the peddler. She was a wild card, something dangerous. He couldn't have her getting in the way of his plans. She would have to be dealt with first. His plan was slowly piecing itself together, and he would refuse defeat.
Julius watches for a moment before meeting the man's gaze with his cold eyes. Eyes that could be called dead or void by the more sensitive. He will pay, thought Julius, but in due time. Julius was weaving his web to ensnare his new foes. He would play the hurt child, a familiar role but different now. His pain would start as rage, then the waves would cease to crash and his pain would be a snowstorm that would freeze even this man's heart.
"Is Desorte the man from The Crossing? The thing looked useless so I tossed it aside, like the trash it was." He emphasized on callign it trash. "It was a small figurine, like you would see on a cheap game board. Wooden and carved with little care. There was nothing inside it, I checked. No way to open it."
He watched as the words sank in. He knew the guard wouldn't believe his story, he shouldn't have. It was a horrible lie. After a moment he spoke again. "If she's your 'partner' then why can't she lead you to him? You could use some whore to get him where you want him. Take him for all you want..." He leaves his lips slightly parted as he stops. Almost as if to continue speaking.
During all of the trading of harsh words and silent plotting, Julius all but ignore the peddler. She was a wild card, something dangerous. He couldn't have her getting in the way of his plans. She would have to be dealt with first. His plan was slowly piecing itself together, and he would refuse defeat.
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Ferric Vintas
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:17 pm
- Name: Ferric Vintas
- Race: Human
Re: Sun, Streets, and Suspicious Sausages
Ferric’s brow drew itself together, creasing his forehead with wrinkles. It seemed that the Tiger’s Crossing and those it employed did not know to fear the authorities. Ferric was, to be frank, perfectly sick of it. “Alright, you stupid little git. That’s it.”
Ferric tossed the lute to his left hand, grabbed Julius by the collar, and began dragging the kid around one of the fort’s edges. They left the road and their feet started to drag across the grass. Ferric spun as he rounded the corner, sending Julius in a wide semicircle interrupted when his back slammed into the wall. The blue
Ferric glanced over his shoulder. Ren’s cart was just far enough off the road that she would be able to see the proceedings. Deciding he didn’t trust her nearly as much as he’d like to, he dragged Julius another couple feet to the left. This brought him a bit further around the corner and interrupted her vision.
“The good news is you get the privacy you wanted.” Ferric growled. He raised his hand such that it clamped around Julius’ throat. He was in full armor now, and the grey gauntlet likely did not cushion a thing. “The bad news is that’s because I’m an inch away from bludgeoning you with your own lute."
Ferric used his hold on the musician’s neck to force him lower. Ferric wished to loom over Julius with a weight every bit equal to the sand-colored bricks of the fort behind him. He leaned in and whispered “And you know something? I’m a petty enough bastard to lock you up for theft after I do it.” Ferric was catching glimpses here and there into Julius’ psyche. The way Julius had reacted to grinding the fancy lute upon the ground had given his intuition plenty to work with. Ferric just couldn’t help himself. “Don’t worry. You’ll be with every other useless, petty whore and thief we’ve tossed into the cells. The fellows just like you.”
He chuckled, confident he had struck a nerve. What boy his age wasn’t full of pride? The unfailing belief in his own superiority and ability? It had to be taken down before Ferric was going to start getting anywhere. He placed his right hand on his lips, feigning and apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I do hope you didn’t think you were special?”
His grey gauntlet retracted its grip, letting Julius free, and Ferric drew himself up to his full height. He spat, narrowly missing Julius’ coat. “The only thing that makes you better than them?” He began, raising his voice. Ferric tossed his hands out to either side, waving the lute for effect. “It’s not this fancy lute. It’s not your skill or your looks.” He pulled his stance back together and rested both hands on the tip of the neck and rested on the instrument, pushing its base into the soft grass. “The only difference between you and every other thug is that you’re not in a cage with them. Now talk, or I put you in one.”
Ferric tossed the lute to his left hand, grabbed Julius by the collar, and began dragging the kid around one of the fort’s edges. They left the road and their feet started to drag across the grass. Ferric spun as he rounded the corner, sending Julius in a wide semicircle interrupted when his back slammed into the wall. The blue
Ferric glanced over his shoulder. Ren’s cart was just far enough off the road that she would be able to see the proceedings. Deciding he didn’t trust her nearly as much as he’d like to, he dragged Julius another couple feet to the left. This brought him a bit further around the corner and interrupted her vision.
“The good news is you get the privacy you wanted.” Ferric growled. He raised his hand such that it clamped around Julius’ throat. He was in full armor now, and the grey gauntlet likely did not cushion a thing. “The bad news is that’s because I’m an inch away from bludgeoning you with your own lute."
Ferric used his hold on the musician’s neck to force him lower. Ferric wished to loom over Julius with a weight every bit equal to the sand-colored bricks of the fort behind him. He leaned in and whispered “And you know something? I’m a petty enough bastard to lock you up for theft after I do it.” Ferric was catching glimpses here and there into Julius’ psyche. The way Julius had reacted to grinding the fancy lute upon the ground had given his intuition plenty to work with. Ferric just couldn’t help himself. “Don’t worry. You’ll be with every other useless, petty whore and thief we’ve tossed into the cells. The fellows just like you.”
He chuckled, confident he had struck a nerve. What boy his age wasn’t full of pride? The unfailing belief in his own superiority and ability? It had to be taken down before Ferric was going to start getting anywhere. He placed his right hand on his lips, feigning and apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I do hope you didn’t think you were special?”
His grey gauntlet retracted its grip, letting Julius free, and Ferric drew himself up to his full height. He spat, narrowly missing Julius’ coat. “The only thing that makes you better than them?” He began, raising his voice. Ferric tossed his hands out to either side, waving the lute for effect. “It’s not this fancy lute. It’s not your skill or your looks.” He pulled his stance back together and rested both hands on the tip of the neck and rested on the instrument, pushing its base into the soft grass. “The only difference between you and every other thug is that you’re not in a cage with them. Now talk, or I put you in one.”