RP: Mischief and Paperwork

It's Kesenday, Rhaltaas 07 11:48:36 1018. The full moon is up. The tide is high and slack. Fair weather clouds drift through the blue sky from the west. The wind is gusty.

A05: Warehouse District

---

On this gusty Kesenday, Ga'Elian and his loyal companion are approaching the entrance of the Adventurers Guild. There are a few folks going about their business here in the warehouse district, just business as usual.

Yelrona is sitting at the base of a large tree near the Guild entrance, talking intently with a wizened old man in grey silk robes. As Ga'Elian and Erithamiel approach she glances in their direction and smiles, and her companion looks over to follow her gaze. He stands, surprisingly lithely for a man of his apparent years, and to judge from his body language is making his goodbyes. The wild elf can catch "...we will discuss this further at another time," before the gray-robed man departs.

Rona appears bemused -- not literally -- for a moment, then rolls easily to her feet and approaches her friends. From a few feet away she shouts "YAAAAAH!" and launches herself at Erithamiel, who looks at her skeptically as she rolls over him and lands on the other side, ruffling his feathers. "Good morning, Elian," she adds to the griffon's companion with a grin. "Have you eaten yet?"

Ga'Elian watches with evident amusement as Yelrona tumbles over the griffon. He replies, "I was just about to check the notice boards, then find some lunch somewhere. How are you this fine day?" The griffon extends his wings for a moment, his tail wagging excitedly.

Morning. The start of activity for some, near the end of it for others. Aya emerges from an alleyway to the west and proceeds north along the street. She moves past the wretched hive of scum and villainy that is the Ox and towards the Guild and those outside of it.

Yelrona says, "Doing well enough." She scratches underneath Erithamiel's wing vigorously. "The notice boards have a great deal of Irregular activity surrounding pushing back the Dran invasion of Rune, mostly... but I imagine you knew that." She pauses thoughtfully. "Have you heard about the plague that's supposedly affecting the Tide? I --" She cuts off as she notices Aya's approach and gives a friendly wave."

Ga'Elian looks over at Aya, and smiles at her. He says, "Plague? That's... SICK." After a little too long goes by, he realizes the humor of his assessment and smirks. Going on, he says, "Did the Runish army cause it?"

About now, a short human in garish clothes, like a street performer would wear to attract attention, comes confidently strolling southward into the warehouse district from the lower marketplace just north of here. He is carrying a folding table in one hand and a small wooden box in the other, and whistling an upbeat tune.

Yelrona gives Elian a weak smile and a golf clap of encouragement at his joke. "Well, that would make sense," she replies to his question, "but... I'm hearing a lot of different stories, and the most sensible-sounding ones I'm pretty sure are simply false, so I don't know. I think there may be more forces involved here than just Rune and Dran. Or, rather: I _know_ there are more forces involved, and I _think_ they might have to do with this plague rumor. I was hoping you might know something more... the wilderness is more your area than mine, eh?" She notices the garishly dressed human and the familiar-looking equipment and grins.

Yelrona holds up a finger, tilting her head to one side. "Excuse me a moment, Elian... I have some business I need to attend to. I'll be right back." With that she rushes off into an alley between two apparently abandoned warehouses.

Shortly thereafter, a dour arvek woman in what looks vaguely like an official uniform approaches Ga'Elian. "Does that animal have its certification papers?" she demands officiously.

Not far off, at one of the warehouse loading docks, it seems that the workers must be taking a break. As they see the brightly attired man approach, they congregate, somewhat in the man's apparent path, and say, "Hey, John, is it? We hear'd you does some fancy tricks. Wanna give us a try at 'em?"

John, if that really is his name, stops, apparently only too pleased to satisfy the call for entertainment. He says, "Honest John, actually, and why, sure, gentlemen. I wouldn't dream of withholding the services of my entertainments from such a... robust group of fellows." He sets up his table and lays the box upon it.

Ga'Elian simply watches as Yelrona ducks out and quickly returns. He casts a glance toward "Honest John", but turns his attention back as the Arvek addresses him. "Papers? Certification? What's this?"

A sharp-eyed observer might notice that the arvek's Guard uniform is decidedly non-uniform... in particular, there are several patches in the tunic of nonstandard fabric, covering areas where a blade might have been used to kill its former owner. But it's close enough that a gullible tourist might not think anything unusual about it. "Yes. For your... animal. City ordinance B27-J requires that all animals brought into the city limits be certified for medical and, um, bureaucratic compliance, and licensed accordingly. You _did_ bring him in for inspection and certification, didn't you?"

GAME: Mel takes ten on profession/cook: (10)+12: 22

Mel pushes a small barrow up the street. He occasionally pauses to sell something out of it to a gullible passerby. This passes for commerce, for Mel, at least, and he collects the copper pieces and doles out the meat on a stick. It doesn't make anyone fall down.

"Honest John" opens his box and sets a bright red ball on the table before him, then does the same with three plain, black cups. One of the warehouse workers sidles up to be the first to try his hand at Johns game.

Yelrona returns from her mysterious business, and is distracted by "Honest John's" table, which she watches curiously.

Ga'Elian looks right confused. "Well, uh, I don't know about any lye-sensing or byoo-ro-crat-ick stuff, but I guess, if it's a requirement, I suppose I'll have to." Pointing at the griffon, he says, "This is Erithamiel, or if the Sildanyari name is too difficult, Silverbeak."

Mel wheels his barrow up onto the scene and calls out, "Get your meat. Get your meat on a stick! Meat onna stick, two copper! Meat onna stick with ketchup, 4 copper!"

A few of the warehouse workers seem more interested in Mel's offerings than in watching their co-worker lose his money, and meander over muttering something about it being lunchtime anyway, and the meat being a refreshing change of pace from their normal lunches.

The arvik woman scowls. "You don't seem to understand. You _were_ required to. When you entered the city. _Now_, you're in violation of city ordinance B27-J. I'm _supposed_ to take you and the animal into custody immediately, until we can get someone to certify his health" she says, then sighs. "But it's the end of my shift and, well, frankly I don't care enough to spend the next hour locking him up. So look, I'll tell you what... Erimathwhatever here looks plenty healthy to me. How about I just issue you a license now?"

Meanwhile, Rona wanders off from the find-the-ball game, shaking her head in amusement, and takes a look at Mel's tray. "Mm," she says noncomittaly. "Well, that certainly does smell like meat."

Ga'Elian looks a little flustered as he says, "So, what does that entail? I suppose you're looking for some of these round bits of metal that everyone around her seems so obsessed with?" He pulls out his coinbag, and loosens the drawstring.

Mel nods to Yelrona as he sells his wares to the warehouse workers, none of whom die from it. It's /that/ good. Top quality stuff. "Would you like some?" he asks her. "Just two copper pieces. Such a bargain!" He lifts up a stick with meat on it in what is probably intended to be a tempting manner.

A majestic griffon wearing mithral barding, the apparent subject of the exchange between the wild elf and the hobgoblin, looks at Mel's offerings and screeches towards the sky.

Yelrona waits until the warehouse workers have wandered off, and chuckles. She hands Mel a silver piece, pressing it into his palm as she takes his hand in hers. "Let's just say I bought five. You can keep the meat for customers with, um, more discerning tastes, shall we say? I'm more in the market for good will, and information. A guy like you, with his ear to the ground, I'm guessing you see a lot of things, yeah?"

The 'guard' nods to Ga'Elian. "Yes, that's right. 6 silvers registration fee," she says, then looking Elian over she adds "...and 5 silvers bureaucratic evaluation fee. That's eleven of the silver round things," she adds helpfully. "Or two of the gold ones."

Ga'Elian picks out two gold pieces, and says, "Alright. And this license thingy? What is it? Is there some token that I put on him?"

Mel takes Yelrona's money, because that's what businesspeople do. He shrugs off her not wanting his meat onna stick. "Oh yeah," he says quickly. "I see all kinds of things. I see stuff all day long, you know. Can't stop, really." Because that's what you get for a silver piece. "I can tell you all about what's going on, yeah," he says quickly.

The crowd watching "Honest John's" game makes a collective "Ooh!" followed by mingled laughter and general chatter.

"Um, yes, that's right," the 'guard' agrees hastily, taking Ga'Elian's money. Because that's what guards do, right? She pulls a piece of paper from her pocket. "I'm gonna issue you a temporary license, and you can bring it to the guardhouse to replace it with a, yeah, like you said, a token that you can put on your big boy there, and it'll be all legal. Um. Can you read?"

"Good!" Rona agrees cheerfully. "You don't have to waste my time with penny-ante stuff, but if you find yourself in possession of quality intelligence and looking for a purchaser, you can leave word for me at Tarien's Temple. Name's Yelrona," she adds casually. "Yours?"

Ga'Elian puts his remaining coins back away and says, "Certainly I can read, at least Sildanyari, and a smattering of Tradespeak."

Mel shrugs to Yelrona and nods slowly. "Tarien's Temple? So ... you're on the lookout for news about practical jokes and comedy acts?" He looks over at Ga'Elian getting scammed, decides that counts as penny-ante, and shrugs. "OK, whatever. I'm Mel," he introduces himself.

"Good, good. Reading's fundamental, y'know." The arvek scrawls something in Goblin-Talk on the paper and hands it to Elian before hastily disappearing.

Yelrona shakes her head. "No, I'm on the lookout for information about what's going on in the city. The jokes, I can make myself."

Aya was walking along the street, though appeared not to notice the gestures of greeting in her direction. One moment she was present, and the other not. She now appears near (yet out of immediate claw or beak reach of) the griffon. Looking to his pet and now bearer of official documents, she tsks to Ga'elian. "All this time and you did not help him to properly register with the city? You are a poor companion."

Ga'Elian looks at the document and says, "Well Aya, hopefully the officials can read this, because it makes no sense to me. But I suppose I have to do these things if I'm gonna keep working with the Guild. Funny nobody said anything about it sooner, though. Anyway, it looks like Yelrona's seeing to lunch."

Mel nods his head to Yelrona. "OK, sure thing." Now he's up by a silver, at least. That's like selling 5 meat-onna-stick. "I'll be sure to pass the word if I find out anything," he assures her as he pushes his barrow along.

Yelrona's ears perk up at the mention of her name and she looks over her shoulder. "No, I think my new friend here's wares are a little too... rich... for sildanyari tastes," she calls back to Elian. "Oh, good afternoon Aya," she adds, seeing the returning face.

"Perhaps they were simply being polite?" Aya offers one possible suggestion before looking to Yelrona and dipping her chin in a nod of acknowledgement. "Good day. Are you sampling the vermin on a stick?"

Yelrona smiles. "Not precisely. We were just discussing current events. Aya, Mel," she introduces. "Mel, Aya."

Mel bows his head to Aya. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." he says, tugging a forelock respectfully. "Would you care for some meat on a stick? Ketchup just 2 coppers extra. I recommend the ketchup. It's very good ketchup."

Rather than continue a somewhat distant conversation, Aya relocates to the vicinity of Yelrona and Mel the mounted meat merchant. Vicinity appears to mean directly behind the vendor, as she discorporates in wisp of shadow to reappear in similar yet inverse fashion immediately behind Mel. "No thank you. I've had my fill of rats for one afternoon."