"I value loyalty above all else."
"Direct him to me. I may need to... place him somewhere beyond his father's reach."
"Try not to let too many people who know your face see you as having been the last person to see this boy."
"Seek young Algincourt at Scorpion's Crossing. They're smart enough to know his father is a danger to him now."
It was mid-morning when Coatleque arrived at Scorpion's Crossing. She had come from the north as if from Horizon, electing not to stop in the city for personal reasons. Had she been seen and recognized back so soon from Ishgard already it would have raised suspicions, being so close to her previous visit. Along side her instructions not to be seen, this was the safest route for all involved.
She wore no silvery armor today. No bright blue and white tabbard to signify her position. Merely drab brown and olive leather with steel boots and half-gloves. A large black robe concealed most everything else but her emerald eyes visible just below the lip. To anyone not paying attention she was nothing more than another traveler through the hot sands of Thanalan.
Upon reaching the crossroads, for that is all the the Crossing was, she made for the watering hole to drink. Even at this hour and season the sun oppressed any who elevated walking above riding more than a malm. As the ladle lowered back to the barrel her eyes roamed over the merchants gathered at the center of the palisade. It did not take her long to single out one man in particular.
Oswell stood off to the side a few fulms from the rest, gesturing to crates and barking orders to the rest. If anyone knew anything about who or what passed through daily it would be him. Coatleque waiting until he had a breath to respond before pulling him aside and depositing a small pouch in his hand. A generous tip for all his hard work, and all she needed was information on one name. Algincourt. He smiled her a wide, gap-toothed grin.
"Oh, the boy. Yes, yes."
"Yes, the boy. I've heard he comes through here on occasion. Perhaps you know when he is next scheduled?
"Now he don't go by that there name, some reason. Goes by Dex. But yep, that's the one. He parked his buttocks here near a week ago, anyroad. Paid for some tent space to lay his head. Course, boys bein' boys, well, they don't sit near long. He's been makin' his way givn' chocobo ridin' lessons. He's usually out tow, maybe three times a day sometimes. Course he usually takes longer when it's a young lassie he's teachin' hehe!"
Oswell winked, then winked, then winked once more a half-second later. While she found it odd that the lesser son of a Lord of Ul'dah would be dirtying his hands at the stables lik that, she voiced no concern over the matter. She was not here to judge, only to retrieve. Her hood remained low and hid any expression that may have given away such thoughts.
"So he should be returning soon then?"
"Boy's due back any moment. Park yer fanny and sit a spell, like as not he'll be back an' covered in dust per th' norm. Though, uh... if'n he asks, you don't got t' say it was me that gilled 'im out."
A sly smile was visible then just under the lip of her hood. "Of course not. If you would be so kind to return the favor for the one who asked." She bowed low then and returned to the merchant's stalls to browse. It seemed she had some waiting to do.
It was close to noon time when three other strangers arrived to the crossing. Coatleque had taken up a position away from the tables by then, leaning casually against a wooden post by the cargo platforms to observe the mundane business dealings of the merchant class. Her head turned almost imperceptibly at the sound of approaching footsteps and she quickly tried to mentally count the number of new arrivals.
The sound of heavy boot-steps grew louder until there was one man standing directly in front of her. The rest had scattered around the square. The man leaned in close to her, reaching out to lift her cowl and see who may be hiding underneath. She slapped his hand away instantly and pressed herself backwards against the beam. "I beg your pardon!"
"Aww, baby, nuffin." He turned to holler over his shoulder. "It's just a bitch!" She frowned and pulled her cowl low once more as the man walked off to question one of the merchants. "Algincourt. Yeah, red hair." The others began asking similarly to other merchants, passing from one to the next, kicking crates and disturbing business. Coatleque slowly moved across the yard then to where Oswell stood by the stables talking to one of the newcomers.
"Perhaps we did not make our position clear. We are no threat to the boy. We come bearing good news." The man, tall and cloaked dropped another purse in Oswell's hand. At least twice the size of the one she had passed the man. Oswell shot her an apologetic look.
"We just wanna talk. It's for 'is own good."
"The boy is due to come into his inheritance. We are not here to wait. What direction, friend?"
As they continued to press the man, Coatleque knew she was outnumbered here. All three men were armed, and probably armored. She moved slowly to the stables, feigning as much interest as she could to look harmless. An inspection of the nearest bird's barding was made. She pulled the straps to ensure they were tight, glanced to Imme with her own sorrowful expression and tensed. Her head turned to the side as she listened.
"So, the route he normally takes?"
"Could be dangerous out there for a boy, we'll meet 'im halfway just to be sure."
Some gesturing was made.
"West? Very good. You see? We are friends."
It was all she needed to hear. Coatleque hoisted herself upon the bird and ripped the reins from the post they were tied to. Pulling them hard, she reeled the bird around and made straight for the gate. The Blades barely had time to react before she was through the palisade and riding hard towards the Bazaar. Stolen bird or not, she would deal with the consequences of her actions later.
"Direct him to me. I may need to... place him somewhere beyond his father's reach."
"Try not to let too many people who know your face see you as having been the last person to see this boy."
"Seek young Algincourt at Scorpion's Crossing. They're smart enough to know his father is a danger to him now."
I
It was mid-morning when Coatleque arrived at Scorpion's Crossing. She had come from the north as if from Horizon, electing not to stop in the city for personal reasons. Had she been seen and recognized back so soon from Ishgard already it would have raised suspicions, being so close to her previous visit. Along side her instructions not to be seen, this was the safest route for all involved.
She wore no silvery armor today. No bright blue and white tabbard to signify her position. Merely drab brown and olive leather with steel boots and half-gloves. A large black robe concealed most everything else but her emerald eyes visible just below the lip. To anyone not paying attention she was nothing more than another traveler through the hot sands of Thanalan.
Upon reaching the crossroads, for that is all the the Crossing was, she made for the watering hole to drink. Even at this hour and season the sun oppressed any who elevated walking above riding more than a malm. As the ladle lowered back to the barrel her eyes roamed over the merchants gathered at the center of the palisade. It did not take her long to single out one man in particular.
Oswell stood off to the side a few fulms from the rest, gesturing to crates and barking orders to the rest. If anyone knew anything about who or what passed through daily it would be him. Coatleque waiting until he had a breath to respond before pulling him aside and depositing a small pouch in his hand. A generous tip for all his hard work, and all she needed was information on one name. Algincourt. He smiled her a wide, gap-toothed grin.
"Oh, the boy. Yes, yes."
"Yes, the boy. I've heard he comes through here on occasion. Perhaps you know when he is next scheduled?
"Now he don't go by that there name, some reason. Goes by Dex. But yep, that's the one. He parked his buttocks here near a week ago, anyroad. Paid for some tent space to lay his head. Course, boys bein' boys, well, they don't sit near long. He's been makin' his way givn' chocobo ridin' lessons. He's usually out tow, maybe three times a day sometimes. Course he usually takes longer when it's a young lassie he's teachin' hehe!"
Oswell winked, then winked, then winked once more a half-second later. While she found it odd that the lesser son of a Lord of Ul'dah would be dirtying his hands at the stables lik that, she voiced no concern over the matter. She was not here to judge, only to retrieve. Her hood remained low and hid any expression that may have given away such thoughts.
"So he should be returning soon then?"
"Boy's due back any moment. Park yer fanny and sit a spell, like as not he'll be back an' covered in dust per th' norm. Though, uh... if'n he asks, you don't got t' say it was me that gilled 'im out."
A sly smile was visible then just under the lip of her hood. "Of course not. If you would be so kind to return the favor for the one who asked." She bowed low then and returned to the merchant's stalls to browse. It seemed she had some waiting to do.
It was close to noon time when three other strangers arrived to the crossing. Coatleque had taken up a position away from the tables by then, leaning casually against a wooden post by the cargo platforms to observe the mundane business dealings of the merchant class. Her head turned almost imperceptibly at the sound of approaching footsteps and she quickly tried to mentally count the number of new arrivals.
The sound of heavy boot-steps grew louder until there was one man standing directly in front of her. The rest had scattered around the square. The man leaned in close to her, reaching out to lift her cowl and see who may be hiding underneath. She slapped his hand away instantly and pressed herself backwards against the beam. "I beg your pardon!"
"Aww, baby, nuffin." He turned to holler over his shoulder. "It's just a bitch!" She frowned and pulled her cowl low once more as the man walked off to question one of the merchants. "Algincourt. Yeah, red hair." The others began asking similarly to other merchants, passing from one to the next, kicking crates and disturbing business. Coatleque slowly moved across the yard then to where Oswell stood by the stables talking to one of the newcomers.
"Perhaps we did not make our position clear. We are no threat to the boy. We come bearing good news." The man, tall and cloaked dropped another purse in Oswell's hand. At least twice the size of the one she had passed the man. Oswell shot her an apologetic look.
"We just wanna talk. It's for 'is own good."
"The boy is due to come into his inheritance. We are not here to wait. What direction, friend?"
As they continued to press the man, Coatleque knew she was outnumbered here. All three men were armed, and probably armored. She moved slowly to the stables, feigning as much interest as she could to look harmless. An inspection of the nearest bird's barding was made. She pulled the straps to ensure they were tight, glanced to Imme with her own sorrowful expression and tensed. Her head turned to the side as she listened.
"So, the route he normally takes?"
"Could be dangerous out there for a boy, we'll meet 'im halfway just to be sure."
Some gesturing was made.
"West? Very good. You see? We are friends."
It was all she needed to hear. Coatleque hoisted herself upon the bird and ripped the reins from the post they were tied to. Pulling them hard, she reeled the bird around and made straight for the gate. The Blades barely had time to react before she was through the palisade and riding hard towards the Bazaar. Stolen bird or not, she would deal with the consequences of her actions later.