Aurum Among Thieves

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Log Info

  • Title: Aurum Among Thieves
  • Emitter: Telamonn


Alexandria, Western Gates, afternoon

The sun shines down merrily, but the heat has let up for now and probably the entire countryside is breathing a sigh of relief -- to say nothing of the city itself. There are a few travelers on the road, and a couple wagons rolling sedately towards the city gates. For once, it's actually... peaceful.

Which is a nice change of pace for a certain half-sil sorcerer. He's walking towards the Phoenix Gate with a casual spring in his step, dressed in his usual ruffled white blouse over leather trousers and embroidered boots. His lips curled in an easy smile, pausing to chat lightly with the guard on duty.

"I got a message," Telamon explains to the guard. "It's... a little complicated. Let's just call it 'magical nonsense' and leave it at that, but I might be needed here." The guard looks like he's not sure if this for real or some elaborate joke, but simply nods and gestures for the archmage to not block traffic.

Near one of the stations for the guards, a small makari was quickly going over various paperwork, signing off on several documents, before all seems to be in order. The reason for all the paperwork is clear, as afterwards she waves through a wizened old wagoneer, who takes their cart with various crates and bolts of cloth through. Finished, Eztli stretches and stops to rest for a moment. "What, out for a stroll, Telamon?" The makari wonders out loud. "Nice enough day for it, after that heatwave."

Coming in from the eastern direction is that of a familiar scarred mul'neissa woman, Aryia has her hands in her pockets, green jacket shoulder robed, head ducked in thought as she's chewing in her lip. Her stroll is taking her towards the Western Gates and out, readying to go on a run.

She seems pretty well acquainted with the guard at this point, her giving a wave as she starts to walk out, but she stops short as she sees two familiar friends. Turning slightly, she changes course and approaches.

Telamon turns as he's addressed, and smiles politely to Eztli, offering a bow. "Something like that. I received a message that I should come by the western gates." He pauses. "No, it wasn't a dream-message, either." His eyes twinkle.

As Aryia approaches, he smiles at her as well. "Aryia, good to see you as well. Out for a jog? Or are you looking for something -- or someone?"

As the straggling line of travelers passes into the gate, a fairly simple wagon driven by a tall, blond-haired man in his thirties approaches slowly. As he slows, a head pops up from the wagon bed, a brown-haired girl of perhaps nine or ten with intent eyes and a serious expression.

"I've had enough of dream messages for some time, it's for the best. Why does no one pop into your dreams just to say hi?" The small makari grumbles. "Well, what's got you out at the western gates then? Hopefully it's nothing particularly bad for a change."

Eztli turns and waves to Aryia as well. "Heya Aryia! You're out here too today? I just got a big shipment of textiles and silks from Veyshan today, you want first pick of everything when it's delivered? I got some real nice stuff, as long as you don't take everything good!" The makari laughs.

Aryia quirks her head to the side as she catches the explanation to Eztli. "Out for a run, yes. Thinking of how to word something for my team in the Tribune. Also think about some things. Feeling a little strange since that thing in Desolation."

The mute nods once towards Eztli, but clearly her interest is piqued at the mention of Veshan textiles. "Fuck, really? Yes, I'll absolutely take a look," she gestures quickly, standing up on her tip toes to see the retreating cart briefly before bouncing to her heels.

Aryia's attention swivels towards the wagon, glancing from the driver, to the girl, then back to Telamon. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Telamon lifts his eyebrows. "Veyshanti silk? Now you've got my attention as well. I might have to commission a few things..." His voice trails off as he sees the simple wagon approaching. "This... might be my visitor. Excuse me, ladies." He beckons to one of the watch as he steps over.

Another guard takes a look into the wagon bed, and blinks. "What the--" But the little girl holds up her hands. "It's okay! Daddy will explain, and Kitty's very friendly." A golden-furred, vaguely-feline looking head lifts up, peering around, and a pair of paws are set on the edge of the wagon. The girl happily scratches the ... whatever it is, behind the ears. "See? He's a good kitty."

Her father coughs, and clears his throat. "If I can explain, sirs..."

GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/nature: (8)+3: 11

GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nature+4: (19)+21+4: 44

"Let me know later, Aryia. I'm renting out a section of a warehouse in town to store it for now, so I'll let them know if you're stopping by. You too Telamon, but you'll have to ask Aryia if you actually want anything made from it." Eztli offers as Aryia peers at the cart. Not much to see for the time being, as clearly they took care to make sure everything would be safe from the elements.

"Something with them? Expecting someone?" She wonders, tilting her head just slightly. "I... don't think that's a cat, is it? Could be maybe, I've seen some wild types out their before."

"And I'd be willing to take said commissions," Aryia notes with a slight smile before she idly follows behind the archmage. She tosses a thumbs up towards Eztli before getting up at her tip toes to see into the cart as the guard inspects.

She blinks. "That's not a cat," she gestures and points, slowly inching closer. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Several guards are now gathered around the cart, most having raised eyebrows. And with good reason.

The wagon bed contains: one young girl, one golden-furred beast with eight legs and a generally calm but watchful demeanour, and a middle-aged man in battered, torn robes, tied hand and foot and gagged, glaring at everyone.

Needless to say, explanations are in order.

The man driving the wagon takes a deep breath. "My name is Aron Ferchik, and this is my daughter Ana, and her... uh... cat."

Telamon can't help it. He snickers. "Sir... Master Ferchik, that is -not- a cat. But please, continue." The archmage gestures with his hand, 'get on with it'.

Aron flushes and nods. "Right. Well, it seems this fellow," he points at the tied up man, "tried to poison my daughter's cat, probably because he had some foul plans for the rest of us." A pause. "We found his things, and he had a book and some apothecary's tools."

Curiosity gets the better of Eztli and the makari ends up joining the others in congregating around the cart. "Nevermind, I didn't see the other three sets of legs. Not a cat." They nod to Aryia. "More importantly, why the hell were you trying to poison them? If that's what happened."

Eztli huffs loudly, and takes a step back. "Sorry, not my jurisdiction in any shape or form. And anything those two have to say on the matter is worth a lot more than my two copper."

Aryia's mouth parts as she parses the contents of the cart. The octolegged creature, the captive, the girl, and the driver. "... I'm going to guess this not-cat sent you the message, Telamon," the pugilist hazards a guess.

The mention of posion gets her to scowl. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Telamon laughs. "Afraid not, Aryia. But someone else did." He walks towards the definitely-not-a-cat, and holds out his hand, palm first. "I bid you be at peace, friend." The 'cat' sniffs at Tel's hand, eyeing him suspiciously, before settling back and leaning into Ana.

"Sergeant, I think I know what we've got here. You should have a copy of the folio the Arcanist's Society distributed -- would you have someone get it?" That gets everyone's attention, and a couple of the guards loosen their swords, staring at the man bound and gagged, who is now struggling a bit in vain. One of the guards pipes up, "Wait, he's one of -those- prisoners?"

"I'd wager a month's salary on it," Telamon replies with aplomb. "Aryia, Eztli, if this bound fellow gets so much as a hand free, please deal with him as you see fit." He offers Ana and Aron a cheerful smile. "You put your trust in your daughter's companion, and it has been well and truly rewarded. I applaud you, sir."

"What, does this cat-er, not sure what it is exactly, it's god magic or mind powers? Interesting, assuming it's safe." The makari muses, peering at the cat and the prisoner. Sith-makar were hard to read at the best of times, but the sorceress' tail stuck out far enough beneath their wins to be seen flicking agitatedly to and fro as she nods. "One of those prisoners? Alright. I'll keep that in mind." They respond coldly, trying to hold back their anger with a small child so close nearby.

GAME: Aryia rolls grapple: aliased to : (13)+27+2+2: 44

Aryia raises a brow as she watches the 'cat' inspect Telamon. She ends up around the back of the cart, peering at the captive. Glowing eyes peer from over the lip at the Sergeant. Then snap to the loosening of swords and Telamon's warning.

"Or we just not worry about that being an issue," she motions, reaching into the cart and dragging the prisoner out by the bound legs and slinging them tightly over a shoulder. "I don't fucking play around with mages, she says with a free hand before holding him tighter. <Handspeech/Tongues>

One of the guards hustles back with the folio, and the sergeant opens it up with Telamon looking over his shoulder. The two talk quietly, while the other guards seem perfectly happy to let Aryia manhandle the prisoner. Then Tel looks over at Eztli. "Eztli, would you mind checking something for me? If this is who we think it is, then he'll have a marking on his left shoulder -- should be a letter and three numbers."

Meanwhile, Aron and Ana are cautiously remaining in the wagon, and the not-cat is now watching Aryia curiously, its tail flicking back and forth but making no sign of aggression. Telamon glances over, and grins at Aron. "How -did- your daughter befriend an aurumvorax, though? That was how I found out -- a brownie took note of your farm and when he saw what happened, he sent word via a sprite to my house."

"... Damn." Eztli mumbles as the prisoner is unceremoniously removed from the premises of the cart. "Feel like I could turn into a dragon and you'd still find a way to make me into a pretzel."

The makari is knocked out of their Aryia induced terror/stupor by the request. "A number? Sure, alright." She responds, holding out one sharp claw to tear a hole through the prisoners garment and peer through. "Sure makes this job easier, too."

Aryia walks up to the two with the folio, reaching up to pull their head up so the guards can get a good look at their face. Her hands are a bit occupied to say anything, but she throws a look over her shoulder towards the short makari with a quirked brow. What was that about a dragon?

Regardless, she turns a bit to make the arm inspection a bit easier.

The bound prisoner struggles a bit, but his chances of getting out of Aryia's iron grip are somewhere between 'never' and 'ever'. Eztli's sharp claw reveals a tattooed letter and three digit number, and the sergeant and Telamon check the folio.

"Well, well, well. Webster Holcroft," Telamon's voice is noticeably colder. "Not one of the more powerful spellcasters who escaped, but the wardens definitely want you back." The half-elf looks to Aryia and Eztli. "He's a middling wizard, but he's -really- good with poisons and alchemical concoctions. I think I see how this played out. He tried to poison Ana's companion -- but aurumvoraxes are immune to poisons. And when he made his play..."

Aron coughs politely. "He opened the back door of our house with a spell, and then Kitty... landed on him. He'd been hiding in one of our farm outbuildings for the last day or so, we think."

"Yeah, there's a number here. Didn't know that they had identifying tattoos on them. Not sure how to feel about that." Eztli points out. Not that many tears shed, though. The sorceress lazily waves one hand, and the torn cloth fixes itself.

"Careful making too many assumptions about them mister Lupercyll-Atlon." Eztli chuckles. "Not certain entirely what happened, but it doesn't matter that much if they had ill intent. Best for them to be accounted for again, so no one has to worry about being poisoned by them."

If she had it her way, the prisoner would be suplexed. But Aryia is in front of many guards. And that would be considered rude. And illegal.

She glances over at Telamon, picking up on his tone that he's only used for severe situations. Her attention falls to Webster. Staring at him, almost daring for him to try and slip some kind of poison in this impossible bind.

With a roll of her shoulder (and bouncing the man), she steps towards the guards, offering an easy chance to manacle them up.

There is, of course, some paperwork. Six guards happily take custody of Webster, trading his simple bindings for iron shackles and a hood, before hauling the man off. One of them says, "The Stones that Speak are going to be really annoyed they missed this!" Another guard comments, as they're dragging Webster away, "Eh, they'll get over it..."

Telamon's cheerful demeanor returns, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He makes a show of brushing his hands off. "Well then! Thank you for that, Master Ferchik! Ah... yes, the sergeant is going to need you to sign this..." A set of papers is proffered. "After all, there are rewards posted for these prisoners."

Aron stares at Telamon. "...Beg pardon?"

"Glad that's taken care of!" Eztli grins, leaning back and stretching. "Now that they're not a concern, things are better, I'd say."

"Oh yeah? Well, there you go! Hope that covers at least some of the trouble they caused." She considers. "Are you planning on staying in the city for the time being before heading back? Could help with room prices and whatnot, might be a bit late to head back depending on how far out you live."

Aryia readily hands them off to the guards with a smirk, her stooping briefly to scoop up the excess rope. She tosses it into the back of the wagon as paperwork gets underway. "Nice. A bounty like that should go a long way for you," she signs to Aron. "Maybe can get a good set up for Kitty?" <HAndspeech/Tongues>

Ana, of course, is thrilled, and hugs both Kitty and her father. "Hooray! The farm's doing all right but Daddy says he wants to invest in the future!" Aron, for his part, looks a little dumbfounded at the prospect of a windfall.

Telamon chuckles. "Sometimes the gods are watching, sir. And they do love to reward the righteous. How about I explain the paperwork to you." Tel begins going through the papers, speaking softly to Aron.

With the tension of the moment evaporating, Kitty has begun making a sound that is something like a purr. However, this is not the decorous purr of a housecat. This sounds more like a horribly misaligned goblin mechanism, as the aurumvorax nuzzles Ana happily.

"Sounds like your Dad is a smart man in that case. If things are doing well, it's a good idea to use extra money to improve things where you can." Eztli chuckles. "I'm sure he'll be able to help get all the paperwork straight. Us adventurers have a ton of experience writing reports after jobs. Especially if you adventure if Aelwyn."

The makari tilts her head again. "I'm not entirely sure what an aurumvorax is, but they seem friendly enough. Do they need any sort of special care? Might be worth getting some books on exotic creatures in town."

Aryia chuckles as Ana is stoked about the situation. She does give the aurumvorax a side eye as it starts to... purr? She takes a half step away. If it sounded like a goblin mechanism, it'd be best to get a little distance.

But, seeing as everything was sorted out, she adjusts her jacket. There's a chuff at the mention of reports and Aelwyn.

"Be sure to save some of it," she gestures to Aron before knocking her boots against the ground. "Going to get going, see you all later," she signs, before starting her walk westward.

A second glance would show she's farther down the road than anticipated. And out of sight before long. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Aryia has left.

"It might not be a bad idea to invest in a book or two on exotic creatures. Or perhaps seek consultation with a sage." Telamon rubs his chin. "Ana may have some innate talent, or calling." He tilts his head at Aron, and smiles reassuringly. "Still, it seems she has a friend and protector. You could do much worse."

Aron looks at the sky, and then nods. "We'll have to stay the night here in the city though. Could you recommend--" Telamon grins. "Gilead's Sheaf, just a little ways down. It's a simple place but inexpensive. You'll want to take those papers to the watch chapterhouse next door -- oh, that reminds me." He takes the top paper and the inkpen, and signs his name on the 'witness' section with a flourish. "There. As I was saying, they'll issue you the reward for Webster. Then tomorrow you can look into whatever you might need."

Tel raises his hand in farewell to Aryia as she heads off, before looking to Eztli. "If you're curious, Eztli, I can probably give some lore. They're known as 'golden gorgers' for a reason -- fortunately, they don't usually grow very large. They're excellent burrowers, and absolutely ferocious when provoked. Not too dissimilar from badgers or wolverines."

"Never hurts to educate yourself when you can." Eztli nods. "Oh, heading out? See you later Aryia, make sure to stop by when you can to check out that Fabric!" She waves off to the monk who is already a ways away.

"Never been there, but you can't go wrong with most places in the city. Most inns are held to a certain standard in the city, after all." she considers. "Golden gorgers huh? Never heard of them, but I'm not great with animals. They leave me alone, I leave them alone. Speaking of visiting though, I need to confirm that shipment got delivered soon. Nice to meet you, thanks for taking care of that person for the city!"

The small makari, in the interest of catching up to the cart in the city, waves to everyone, before taking a few strides and a jump, flapping quickly away before leaving for the city. Thankfully the guards were relatively used to it by now to not put up much of a fuss.