Find Another Poster:Â 3
Sell My Own Poster:Â 5
My bit of ledger-checking theater finishes with an enigmatic smile. "You're in luck," I say, my voice bright and chipper as I snap the ledger shut. "I happen to have just such a poster in my inventory."
Heidolf shows the first real expression of interest I've seen all night. It's a subtle change, seen in the lift of his traditionally non-existent Ala Mhigan eyebrows and in the straightening of his posture, but it's there. "Is that so?"
"Indeed! Signed, no less." It's not signed by me, which would of course raise the value of the piece even further, but by the woman herself. Still quite valuable to somebody in the right markets. "Now I don't have it with me, but I can have it here within the bell if you're willing to wait. It's in excellent condition. You can have a look, and then we shall settle on a price?"
He hasn't heard the last sentence or two, the far-off look in his eyes suggesting his mind is somewhere being dazzled by a display of Twelve-given good fortune. I have him. I may even make a profit on this. It's hard to keep my grin from being wolfish.
---
The guilt only starts to hit once I reach my company's ward of the Goblet. It was polite enough to keep the pangs down to a slight itch through the city itself, but once I hit the residential areas it becomes a full-blown twinge, as such things are categorized. After all, it was the only thing left I had of our relationship. Could I really sell it that easily?
Near the corner of my estate, I paused to take a breath. I could imagine several people, if they knew the circumstances, calling this quite low. The poster was a gift, after all, and a solid link to something that was otherwise only a memory.
Only a memory. I can't hide my snort, expressed to nobody save myself. A statement expressed only by those who had an excess of the same, who never had to do without. The thought is left at that; no sense being bitter about it.
Rounding the corner, the small wooden box, upside-down and propped up at an angle, is the first thing to catch my attention. The rest of the exterior of Dubious Distributions is as it always is - far better than I really have any right to have. It's a crate meant for a small shipment of fruit, but it seems to have been re-purposed as a simple trap; I can see a twig propping up the box's interior. Underneath is a small, wrinkled popoto.
My employment rolls are still small, so if nothing else I know who's responsible for this by process of "There is literally nobody else on my employment roll who would be responsible for this." I'm just trying to figure out why she'd do it here of all places.
"Miss Sandraix? Do you really think this is the best place?"
There's a crash in the foliage behind the estate wall as Alienne Sandraix exposes herself from her hiding place in a nearby shrub. It's a small shrub, and she's a rather tall Wildwood, so it takes quite a lot of exposure. "Oh! Heya, Mr. V!" She gives me a bright smile before furrowing her brows and looking around the environs. "You didn't see any apes or nothin' before you cames here? Don't want you scaring them off!"
This is my bodyguard. A former pirate and a born survivor in a very real sense, having survived both the Calamity and several bizarre instances of a voidsent murdering everyone but her on her vessel. When it comes to combat, there is hardly anyone better. Basic problem solving, however . . . well, I wouldn't hire security that wasn't dubious, would I?
Â
"No, Miss Sandraix," I laugh, there being no real point in exasperation with Alienne. "How's the trap working for you?"
"Oh real good! I used that picture you gave me of that rope thing you used for hunting puddings." She bobs her head, the mop of dark-green hair combed to one side flailing over her face in her enthusiasm, and gives a thumbs-up. "Only I used a box on account of this is an ape and it could break out of a rope pretty easy."
"It does look good - but where's the string?"
"There's supposed to be a string? I thought it were a rope."
Never mind. If I stop to explain this I'll be here until the next sun, and Heidolf will surely be gone. "Capital work, Miss Sandraix. Keep it up." I reach out to pat her on the shoulder. "You really think that ape will come here?" This is technically her leve - finding an ape that fled some merchant. It's been moons; I suspect it's had time to found its own empire by now, but it keeps her paid and busy.
"Last place, Mr. V! Last place. I mean if I were an ape I'd - " She pauses, lost in thought. "I dunno what I'd do, but this ape'll come here. He's real crafty like that."
"Well get some sleep at some point," I say as I step past her. "I'm just in to pick up some stock for a customer."
"Whoawhoawhoa, a customer?" She steps in front of me. "Come on Mr. V, I gotta go with ya's."
"I'm quite capable of handling myself, Miss Sandraix, it's all perfectly legitimate!"
"'Ain't nobody allowed to do nothin' all by their lonesome in Dubious Distributions if they're dealing with - " She frowns, having forgotten the rest. "Well I gotta come with you anyhow."
She's reciting the Martyrdom Clause back at me, or trying to, in her own particular patois. It's a rule I established as I was drafting up the company charter. Simply put, it means that no member of the group is allowed to handle dangerous situations by themselves if they've already failed to do so at least once. The intent was to try and curtail what I've seen of free companies in the past, where a half-dozen young and eager adventurers fall all over themselves trying to resolve the shadows of their past without help, fail in an overwrought fashion, and make their problems worse for everyone.
It's a common problem amongst adventurers, and reckless to boot. What's the point of being in the damn company if one insists on being a stoic and standoffish loner, anyhow? So I made a rule to deny it. It is to my great misfortune that the rule is now indulging in a bit of petard-hoisting.
Alienne has a point - after getting myself enslaved in the Coblyn's Fancy Mining Company, beaten by Brass Blades while robbing a warehouse, and kidnapped by Dravanian heretics, I already fall under the dictates of the Martyrdom Clause.
Still. It's Alienne.
What should Verad do next?
1. I'll have to concede the point and take her with me. Rules are rules, and I can't expect people to follow them if I don't do it myself. She may be a bit abrasive and prone to saying literally anything that's on her mind at any point, but I can work around that with a bit of good salesmanship.
2. The Martyrdom Clause is specifically for dangerous situations or shadows from the past. I am at least ninety-percent confident that a random stranger I approached in a bar isn't somebody who's out to kill me for some crime I don't even remember. Worse, only a few moments of conversation with Alienne can turn a customer sour. She could jeopardize everything! I should tell her to concentrate on her leve. It won't take too much convincing.
Sell My Own Poster:Â 5
My bit of ledger-checking theater finishes with an enigmatic smile. "You're in luck," I say, my voice bright and chipper as I snap the ledger shut. "I happen to have just such a poster in my inventory."
Heidolf shows the first real expression of interest I've seen all night. It's a subtle change, seen in the lift of his traditionally non-existent Ala Mhigan eyebrows and in the straightening of his posture, but it's there. "Is that so?"
"Indeed! Signed, no less." It's not signed by me, which would of course raise the value of the piece even further, but by the woman herself. Still quite valuable to somebody in the right markets. "Now I don't have it with me, but I can have it here within the bell if you're willing to wait. It's in excellent condition. You can have a look, and then we shall settle on a price?"
He hasn't heard the last sentence or two, the far-off look in his eyes suggesting his mind is somewhere being dazzled by a display of Twelve-given good fortune. I have him. I may even make a profit on this. It's hard to keep my grin from being wolfish.
---
The guilt only starts to hit once I reach my company's ward of the Goblet. It was polite enough to keep the pangs down to a slight itch through the city itself, but once I hit the residential areas it becomes a full-blown twinge, as such things are categorized. After all, it was the only thing left I had of our relationship. Could I really sell it that easily?
Near the corner of my estate, I paused to take a breath. I could imagine several people, if they knew the circumstances, calling this quite low. The poster was a gift, after all, and a solid link to something that was otherwise only a memory.
Only a memory. I can't hide my snort, expressed to nobody save myself. A statement expressed only by those who had an excess of the same, who never had to do without. The thought is left at that; no sense being bitter about it.
Rounding the corner, the small wooden box, upside-down and propped up at an angle, is the first thing to catch my attention. The rest of the exterior of Dubious Distributions is as it always is - far better than I really have any right to have. It's a crate meant for a small shipment of fruit, but it seems to have been re-purposed as a simple trap; I can see a twig propping up the box's interior. Underneath is a small, wrinkled popoto.
My employment rolls are still small, so if nothing else I know who's responsible for this by process of "There is literally nobody else on my employment roll who would be responsible for this." I'm just trying to figure out why she'd do it here of all places.
"Miss Sandraix? Do you really think this is the best place?"
There's a crash in the foliage behind the estate wall as Alienne Sandraix exposes herself from her hiding place in a nearby shrub. It's a small shrub, and she's a rather tall Wildwood, so it takes quite a lot of exposure. "Oh! Heya, Mr. V!" She gives me a bright smile before furrowing her brows and looking around the environs. "You didn't see any apes or nothin' before you cames here? Don't want you scaring them off!"
This is my bodyguard. A former pirate and a born survivor in a very real sense, having survived both the Calamity and several bizarre instances of a voidsent murdering everyone but her on her vessel. When it comes to combat, there is hardly anyone better. Basic problem solving, however . . . well, I wouldn't hire security that wasn't dubious, would I?
Â
"No, Miss Sandraix," I laugh, there being no real point in exasperation with Alienne. "How's the trap working for you?"
"Oh real good! I used that picture you gave me of that rope thing you used for hunting puddings." She bobs her head, the mop of dark-green hair combed to one side flailing over her face in her enthusiasm, and gives a thumbs-up. "Only I used a box on account of this is an ape and it could break out of a rope pretty easy."
"It does look good - but where's the string?"
"There's supposed to be a string? I thought it were a rope."
Never mind. If I stop to explain this I'll be here until the next sun, and Heidolf will surely be gone. "Capital work, Miss Sandraix. Keep it up." I reach out to pat her on the shoulder. "You really think that ape will come here?" This is technically her leve - finding an ape that fled some merchant. It's been moons; I suspect it's had time to found its own empire by now, but it keeps her paid and busy.
"Last place, Mr. V! Last place. I mean if I were an ape I'd - " She pauses, lost in thought. "I dunno what I'd do, but this ape'll come here. He's real crafty like that."
"Well get some sleep at some point," I say as I step past her. "I'm just in to pick up some stock for a customer."
"Whoawhoawhoa, a customer?" She steps in front of me. "Come on Mr. V, I gotta go with ya's."
"I'm quite capable of handling myself, Miss Sandraix, it's all perfectly legitimate!"
"'Ain't nobody allowed to do nothin' all by their lonesome in Dubious Distributions if they're dealing with - " She frowns, having forgotten the rest. "Well I gotta come with you anyhow."
She's reciting the Martyrdom Clause back at me, or trying to, in her own particular patois. It's a rule I established as I was drafting up the company charter. Simply put, it means that no member of the group is allowed to handle dangerous situations by themselves if they've already failed to do so at least once. The intent was to try and curtail what I've seen of free companies in the past, where a half-dozen young and eager adventurers fall all over themselves trying to resolve the shadows of their past without help, fail in an overwrought fashion, and make their problems worse for everyone.
It's a common problem amongst adventurers, and reckless to boot. What's the point of being in the damn company if one insists on being a stoic and standoffish loner, anyhow? So I made a rule to deny it. It is to my great misfortune that the rule is now indulging in a bit of petard-hoisting.
Alienne has a point - after getting myself enslaved in the Coblyn's Fancy Mining Company, beaten by Brass Blades while robbing a warehouse, and kidnapped by Dravanian heretics, I already fall under the dictates of the Martyrdom Clause.
Still. It's Alienne.
What should Verad do next?
1. I'll have to concede the point and take her with me. Rules are rules, and I can't expect people to follow them if I don't do it myself. She may be a bit abrasive and prone to saying literally anything that's on her mind at any point, but I can work around that with a bit of good salesmanship.
2. The Martyrdom Clause is specifically for dangerous situations or shadows from the past. I am at least ninety-percent confident that a random stranger I approached in a bar isn't somebody who's out to kill me for some crime I don't even remember. Worse, only a few moments of conversation with Alienne can turn a customer sour. She could jeopardize everything! I should tell her to concentrate on her leve. It won't take too much convincing.
Verad Bellveil's Profile | The Case of the Ransacked Rug | Verad's Fate Sheet
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
