I'll take what I can get, and if that's what I'm getting, I'll take it.
Osric gave the man a little smile as he walked around the table, took up the bottle as he went, and refilled Nero's cup.
"Simply put," he replied, his eyes fixated on the smuggler's glass as he poured, "my contacts' resources would become your resources. I run a network o' folks what treat favors as coin for trading, and I'm willin' t'incur whatever debt you rack up."
He lifted the neck of the bottle just in time for the ale to reach the rim of the tumbler and no further. Satisfied, he circled around behind Nero as he resumed his trip around their table, then set to refilling his own glass as he sat back down.
"Say you've reason t'acquire a special type o' munitions. I know the bastard that helped hit your warehouse; more often than not, he works for me, so there you go, home-made explosives, military grade. Mayhap there'll be need t'hunt someone down through the Shroud; I know enough Keepers for that, whole clan's worth. Better yet, I know their matriarch. Somethin' aetheric verified by a mage, white or black? Done, meeting arranged within minutes. Troubles in Coerthas? Hells, I know a dragonslayer or two, at least one o' which served with one of Ishgard's Great Houses."
The sergeant rolled a hand as he set down the bottle of Admiral's Ale and picked up his drink.
"Small network, but extensive. Reach exceeding the grasp, and all that nonsense. Shite, how do you think I'm able t'reach you? I'll tell you how. Made a history out o' makin' friends and acquaintances with these folk. I'm the man who knows most everyone, and most everyone knows me."
He took a sip of his ale, then pointed at Lazarov.
"Has its disadvantages, as y'said... but most o' those go right the window, crash, defenestrated, when the task at hand doesn't require m'own self."
Melkire plucked a coin from his purse, set it against the table, and tapped it twice.
"I'm no good with 'profits or loss thereof.' Why? Because I don't have to be. You need someone hit? Someone blackmailed? Bribed? A door opened? Althyk's Axe, you want a man placed in the palace, give me half a moon and enough breathing room t'get creative, and it's done."
He took another sip, then leaned back in his chair.
"Tell you what. Give me one o' them, what are they called, hypotheticals, give me a hypothetical and I'll tell you how my connections would get the job done."
Osric gave the man a little smile as he walked around the table, took up the bottle as he went, and refilled Nero's cup.
"Simply put," he replied, his eyes fixated on the smuggler's glass as he poured, "my contacts' resources would become your resources. I run a network o' folks what treat favors as coin for trading, and I'm willin' t'incur whatever debt you rack up."
He lifted the neck of the bottle just in time for the ale to reach the rim of the tumbler and no further. Satisfied, he circled around behind Nero as he resumed his trip around their table, then set to refilling his own glass as he sat back down.
"Say you've reason t'acquire a special type o' munitions. I know the bastard that helped hit your warehouse; more often than not, he works for me, so there you go, home-made explosives, military grade. Mayhap there'll be need t'hunt someone down through the Shroud; I know enough Keepers for that, whole clan's worth. Better yet, I know their matriarch. Somethin' aetheric verified by a mage, white or black? Done, meeting arranged within minutes. Troubles in Coerthas? Hells, I know a dragonslayer or two, at least one o' which served with one of Ishgard's Great Houses."
The sergeant rolled a hand as he set down the bottle of Admiral's Ale and picked up his drink.
"Small network, but extensive. Reach exceeding the grasp, and all that nonsense. Shite, how do you think I'm able t'reach you? I'll tell you how. Made a history out o' makin' friends and acquaintances with these folk. I'm the man who knows most everyone, and most everyone knows me."
He took a sip of his ale, then pointed at Lazarov.
"Has its disadvantages, as y'said... but most o' those go right the window, crash, defenestrated, when the task at hand doesn't require m'own self."
Melkire plucked a coin from his purse, set it against the table, and tapped it twice.
"I'm no good with 'profits or loss thereof.' Why? Because I don't have to be. You need someone hit? Someone blackmailed? Bribed? A door opened? Althyk's Axe, you want a man placed in the palace, give me half a moon and enough breathing room t'get creative, and it's done."
He took another sip, then leaned back in his chair.
"Tell you what. Give me one o' them, what are they called, hypotheticals, give me a hypothetical and I'll tell you how my connections would get the job done."
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
