Turn 143

    Wildspace: Griffin
    "Gear?" Inez looks faintly dubious, cocking her head. "I think he has more personality than that."
    Emmett looks down again at the beast. "Gears have lots of personality... but I can see your point. Too cute. Right.
    The next day Lynden attempts to converse with the griffin, but disappointingly the griffin is only interested in nibbling the young priest's fingers. "I'm sorry Emmett, but it seems I was wrong. He's not responding to me. Either he's just not interested or he's just not affected." Shrugging Lynden continues, "Do you want to continue with the ceremony now?"
    "Later today, once we get his ceremonial family together." Emmett responds
    And indeed, later that day the crew of the TTS Distraction is witness to the most astounding sight - Emmett Half-Man cleanly shaved, hair neatly trimmed (thanks, Inez!), eye-patch gone and left eye glittering crimson, resplendently dressed in the full formal uniform of a Cadin Imperial Griffin Rider, with its epaulets, gold braids, brass buttons and a row of medals across the chest speaking of years of distinguished and dangerous service. His prostheses have been polished to a glittering shine, and his face is straining to contain a smile. He walks with purpose, cradling a swaddled object as he approaches the deck, where a space has been cleared for just this purpose.
    In a moment Emmett stands over a small pile of hay, his shadow covering the small form of an infant Griffin, looking cute in the way that helpless newborns are, but with the glittering claws and beak that show exactly how dangerous he will be with age. There is a small brazier to the griffin's left, a small bowl of meat to its right.
    Emmett clears his throat. "Good morning, and thank you. It is important that you be here, and I've waited a long time for this moment. It is time for you to wake up, hear your name, see your allies and view the sky." It might take a second for the crew to realize that for all the circumstance, he is not addressing *them* but the small beast, which has fallen mostly silent - its noise now reduced to the sound of feathers and hay rustling.
    Emmett reaches down and takes one feather from the tiny wing, and drops it into the brazier, followed by a handful of something pulled from his pocket - clearing up the question of what happened to his hair. "We are bound together in fire, you and I."
    The half man lifts the griffin with one hand and holds him out to view the assembled crew. "We are bound together in allies, you and I." He then turns, moving the beast out of his shadow and letting the vision of the Flowlight wash over them. "We are bound together in sky, you and I.
    "You are Cadin, named for my world, and may you grow to replicate its glory and honor."
    With that, the half man lowers the beast back down to the hay, and starts feeding it, repeating its name every few seconds, accompanied by small meaty treats. After a second he looks up. "Well, that's it. It's more impressive when there are 20 or so of us, but this is the best I can do."
    Stepping forward to congratulate Emmett, Lynden inadvertently precedes Inez, who scowls at him pointedly. Hastily giving way, he waits until she leaves before shaking the half-man's hand, smiling warmly. "It's a good name you've chosen. A strong one. I hope you do each other proud."
    Moving away as the half-man gives his attention once more to the griffin, Lynden is stuck by feelings of loneliness that even his god cannot dispel. It's been a long time since he had anyone care enough about him to take such pains on his behalf, and a single tear escapes to trickle down his cheek before he hastily wipes it away.
    [GM: Delightful.]
    * * *
    Abbarille: Three Trees
    Otto waves a hand. "Hardly required, but if you like. I hope however that under the circumstances, you will keep me informed of anything pertinent you discover?"
    "Of course, sir," Val assures the halfling.
    [GM: Sorry, but this slipped my mind -- did you tell him about your prisoner?]
    "Splendid. I'll send a man around this afternoon to look at what you brought back and arrange for storage, and we'll settle up on the venture. Thank you for the information."
    Val exchanges pleasant farewells with Mister Ferndale before departing.
    After the interview, Valarin steers Lynden away from the Three Trees offices into the more populated area of the spaceport.
    "That went well," Val says rhetorically, relieved to be out of there before anything else was asked. He did not wish to disclose exactly how ibn Hassan will be investigating. The less said on that matter, the better.
    "What say we get a bite to eat before we head back to the ship?" he asks Lynden, apparently a bit more relaxed now that they are away from the company offices.
    "Sounds good to me," is the reply, "Shall we try our luck here?" He points to a door nearby with a sign hanging above it. There is a reasonable representation of a harp on the sign and the smell of something good is wafting from the open door.
    Entering the inn, Lynden leads the way to a table near a window and they can sit and talk but which allows him to continue watching the locals passing by outside. A few moments later they are approached and their order, "A mug of ale and the day's 'special' each please," is taken by a young woman who returns shortly after with two wooden plates each loaded with a thick slice of meat pie surrounded by gravy and a wedge of crusty bread. Having thanked the waitress and, with Val's help, paid for their meal with some of the coin provided by Bendek, Lynden tucks in appreciatively before catching Val's attention.
    "I hope this isn't out of place Captain, " Lynden begins seriously, "but if the Hextorians are involved here I feel I should take a look at what they're up to." His eyes flick upwards and Val realizes that the young priest is gazing directly at him, something he generally avoids doing. "I gave my word that I'd hunt them out and it pains me to admit it but if I don't take this chance I might be too scared to do it in the future." A deep sigh escapes him before he continues, "But I'm under your command now, and I'd rather not go against your wishes..."
    * * *
    Abbarille: The Happy Argos
    "I'll take that as a yes. Barkeep, can we get two mugs of your lightest beer to fight off the heat, and two shots of whisky to warm us up?" As the drinks are being delivered, the half man looks over at his companion. "OK, now we just need to chat up a better feel for the lay of the land, and we should probably do Val a favor has start looking for a new navigator to replace the big brain. That ought to make his day easier."
    Barrend blinks in surprise at hearing the conversation of the strangers. "Did I hear correctly?" he thinks. "Looking for a new navigator? This /has/ been a worthwhile trip if they're hiring. I was almost starting to believe that I would be stuck seeing the same ports for the rest of my life."
    He stands up and approaches the strangers table.
    "Sorry to intrude on you fine folks. I am called Barrend and I couldn't help but overhear that you are looking for a navigator? I have served as navigator on the Blackbird for the past couple of years and have thought of joining a new crew for quite some time now."
    At first glance, it is difficult to gauge the dwarf's age. Though his three-braided beard and his hair are dark brown and show no hint of white, he wears spectacles which adds many years to his appearance, though the eyes behind the spectacles have the twinkle of youth in them. His overall guise is that of an explorer, though his clothes themselves look light enough, but there seem to be pockets everywhere, even on his cloak though they seem to have been added afterwards. He carries a thick wooden walking stick that looks more like a large branch that an actual woodwork. There are enough scratches and bumps on the stick to indicate that it has been used in a fight or two. His leather boots have clumps of dirts that show that he has been in the local wilderness recently. Though easy to miss, there is a hint of tattoos on the forearms, but the clothes hide most of them.
    The half man looks at Barrend, then over at Inez, and then back at Barrend again. "Well that was quick. Yes, by all means, Barrend, pull up a chair. We're crew on the Three Trees Ship Distraction, and you did hear right - come a few days we'll be short a navigator. But before you leap at this, you should know that these aren't milk runs."
    Emmett stops to take a quick drink, then forges ahead "The Distraction is an exploration ship, seeking out new life and new civilizations and then opening up trade routes with them. Opening those routes might mean military action to get in the good graces of local rulers, so every hand aboard is one of the best. Along the way we liberate communities of Dwarvish Forgeships conquered by aliens, we rescue damsels in distress, and we investigate vast theological conspiracies that threaten the very nature of the universe. It is not a task to be taken lightly."
    Inez chokes and coughs foam.
    Emmett continues, "If you're still interested, well, it sounds like you've been in this port before. In our line of work we're seldom in the same port more than once so the lady and I could use a guide to the town. I offer that if you spend the afternoon helping us out while we get to know you and your past, we'll introduce you to our captain and first officer with a favorable report this evening. Deal?"
    "So it's for Three Trees that you work for." answers Barrend. "A decent enough company, though personally my ship has had more business with Havath & Sons." He pauses for a moment to ponder. "Exploration to open up new trade routes I can understand from Three Trees. But liberating forgeships? Rescuing damsels? Theological conspiracies threatening the spheres? Those seem like rather odd goals for such a patron. Though I can sympathize with the conspiracy one. But that's another story.
    "But if true explorers you be, then I would very much want to join this /adventurous/ crew of yours. There are many worlds I would like to set foot upon." he says enthusiastically. "It will be a well deserved change to my normal routes. Barely any challenge to them. They're on well known routes and most of the time we just coast and follow the Flow. A greenhorn ensign could probably master them in a trip or two." He starts stomping his walking cane on the floor. "And if showing you around town is all that it takes to meet your captain, then by Moradin's Beard let us quaff the rest of our drinks and set off while it is still daylight! Mister...?"
    The half man stands, towering to his impressive five feet, one inch of height and sticks out his hood hand "Emmett Half Man, and the lovely lady here is Inez, one of the finest sailors and trade negotiators in the flow," Emmett leans in for a stage whisper "and a canny dancer at that."
    The half man takes the moment where Inez is introducing herself to Barrend to hastily finish his drink and leave a few coins on the table. One finished, he says "You think it odd that our patrons would back our liberating, rescuing and conspiring? Ah, but Three trees realizes that the great machine of the universe has many, many parts, and in the end they are all interconnected. Liberating the forgeship saw the company a tidy profit in price fetched by the insect buggers 'jammer. The rescue of the young woman? That was what revealed to us the location of our last stop, ripe with spices, crafts and ivory, poor in some basic resources and currently under the heel of a trade monopoly that had backed the wrong side in an upcoming civil war. With the contracts Inez here negotiated, we now have a long run with his profit potential eager to trade. Everything connects, even the most inconsequential things."
    Once Inez has likewise finished all of the drink she is going to Emmett leads the trio to the door, again holding it for his comely companion. "As to the theological conspiracy, well, that's more of a side job really..."
    "It's not a job at all, it's lunacy," Inez snaps. "These people are crazy-dangerous, and you're crazy too if you're thinking about getting any deeper in this. We're finished with Rigol, just let it go."
    Emmett looks at Inez, honestly surprised that this touched a nerve. he hangs back a minute to talk with Inez, hoping that Barren will be graceful enough to take the hint and give them a moment "Other than alerting the authorities, which Val is already doing, I don't think we have anything else we *could* do, even if we wanted to." He glances over at the bespectacled dwarf "I just want this guy to have an honest idea of what he's getting into without scaring him off entirely. OK? I didn't realize you were that worried about it, but we can talk about that after we see if this guys our new navigator, all right?"
    "If you're right, there's nothing to talk about. But I know you guys -- you'll find some way." She follows Barrend out of the bar.
    "I don't know who this Rigol fellow is," Barrend thinks "but it seems to have been an unpleasant encounter. It's probably for the best. That Half Man fellow looks a little reckless and probably needed to be put in his place. Half Man... real name or nick name, he looks the part with all those artificial limbs. That Inez woman seems to have some common sense and no need for fools. Good, she must have some dwarven blood in her." Seeing that the private conversation is over. "Ah, they seem to be finished."
    Outside, turning to his new companions, "Now then. What would you like to see first?" The fog is lifting, and it looks like another sunny, hot day in the city.
    Sensing a need to lighten the mood "Show us the shopping market my good dwarf. I could do with some fresh fruit, and I think both the lady and I are due for some appraisal shopping for where our pay will go later."
    The city has a huge maze of a marketplace, and it is a good idea to have a guide who knows his way around. From large, free-standing buildings to stalls to push-carts to blankets spread in the narrow street, everyone is selling and buying, and entertainers ply their trades on every corner. Exotic scents drift from tiny basement shops - spices, perfume, incense, and hints of less pleasant odors as well - where cloaked proprietors stand in the doorways, reciting the virtues of their wares.
    Whatever a being seeks, if it is available for cash, it can probably be had here....
    * * * Abbarille: Olnfar
    A gray-haired man in Zakharan dress answers the knock and looks somewhat surprised. "Good day, gentle folk. May I help you?" From some inner chamber there is the faint sound of music and a woman's voice singing.
    "I beg you to forgive this intrusion," ibn Hassan says, in Zakharan. "I seek only a few moments of the illustrious ibn Hatim's time. I have a message for our uncle Karim."
    There is a slight hesitation, but he opens the door further. "Do enter." He leads them through the kitchen to a small chamber. "Please wait here."
    It's a rather long wait. Yestin sits gingerly in an undersized chair and studies the patterned tiles on the walls.
    "Perhaps I should have risked introducing myself," ibn Hassan remarks after a while. He tests the effectiveness of his magic ring on tiled walls; they're quite smooth, with only the faintest hint of a prickle suggesting adhesion. There are limits to the ring's abilities.
    At last the door opens and ibn Hatim - one assumes - enters the room. He is a tall man, middle-aged, his features set in an apparently permanent frown.
    "Yes, what do you want?" he inquires abruptly.
    Ibn Hassan raises his brows in polite surprise. "Have I the honor of addressing the inestimable ibn Hatim?" he asks, in Common.
    "Yes."
    The half-elf gives him a slight, exquisitely courteous bow (one used between men of the same social class whose relative rank is yet uncertain). "Then I must inform you that I am Faris Arif ibn Nawar binte Rabi Gadiel Akram Olnfar. It so happens that I am passing through this most affecting city on business."
    "Turned up at last, eh?" With an air of impatience he provides his own equally lengthy sobriquet -- they are very distant cousins, as it happens, the link now three generations back. But still a link. Ibn Hatim seems little interested in pleasantries, and occasionally glances at the door. The music is still distantly audible.
    [GM: Yes, he's being rude. It's nothing personal, though. :-) ]
    * * *
    That afternoon a man from Otto's staff comes around to the ship and explains to Pham and Hiro, left on guard there, that he's to appraise the material they brought back. He spends two hours doing a thorough assessment of their Rigolian cargo samples and the crated samples from the other worlds they visited; he seems excited, in a reserved sort of way, and comes back later on with a gnome in tow. The mammoth tusks will fetch far more as curios than they would for their value in ivory alone, he very nearly purrs over the size and clarity of the amber, and the ice wine will certainly have many markets, but it's the wood that they're most interested in, and on which the gnome performs a series of tests.
    "This is great stuff," he enthuses to Hiro, emerging from the hold in a cloud of purple smoke. "I've never seen anything like it -- dense, strong, elastic enough to withstand the stress of space travel. We can make excellent ships from it, I'll wager." That is, after all, where the company got its beginning.
    The following morning there are again visitors; the same man, this time with a discreetly- but very well-armed escort and a team of laborers. While the ship's hold slowly empties, the man presents Val with a sheaf of bank drafts, negotiable anywhere Three Trees has a presence, totaling 30,000 of the local gold afhns.
    "This represents the standard ten percent of the value of the cargo itself, plus a bonus for bringing such a doubtless-valuable sphere to the company's attention; you'll see to the distribution? Mr. Ferndale suggests that you and your crew enjoy some shore leave for a few days. We may try to set up a meeting with you, your navigator, and some of our other captains who are in port, in case they want to head out that way. Let us know when you plan to depart and we'll discuss resupplying your ship. "
    

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