A Fair Trade ~~Echoes of Bone pt.5~~

Discussion in 'The Salty Dog Tavern' started by The Watch, Dec 30, 2017.

  1. The Watch

    The Watch Well-Known Member
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    Dorian tied his horse to a bush outside the Moonglow observatory. He stood at the open archway entrance for several moments, but the man hunched over the eyepiece of the great bronze mechanism of tubes, lenses, and gears didn't so much as glance at him. Dorian coughed again, louder this time, but still the monk didn't look.


    Dorian decided to try introducing himself. "G'devening, sir. Mind if I..."


    "Yes, yes, come in and sit down, please. And douse that goat-kissing lantern! The light is making it difficult to see the mountain ranges on Trammel, and I won't get another clear night like this for another fortnight!"

    P1 Interruptions.png

    Dorian snuffed the wick on his intricately crafted agapite lantern. He stepped into the marble pavilion and took a seat while the monk spun gears, pulled a few chains, and adjusted the focus on the massive telescope. He jotted down notes as he worked, muttering under his breath to himself. While he waited, Dorian took in his surroundings and the man peering through the telescope.


    The workshop was littered with books, vials, and scraps of parchment. An inkwell had spilled across the top of a granite tabletop, leaving a thick, dark stain on the stone. The monk was wearing a threadbare grey robe with forest green trimmings. His long, wispy white beard fluttered beneath the eyepiece as a sea breeze from the east blew through the open marble workshop.


    Finally, after a long silence, the monk adjusted the focus and whistled. He jotted furiously in his notepad for a moment. When finished, he sat back and rubbed his eyes. He stood, stretched his long, bony arms and legs, and stifled a yawn. He blinked as he looked over at Dorian, squinting.


    "Now, who are you and why are you interrupting my study?" He demanded, sniffing through his hooked hawk beak nose. "I petitioned for this time on the apparatus more than three moons ago, and my name is on the list, I saw it! You can have the flame licking thing when I'm finished with it, you hear?"

    "Sir, I'm not here to take your time on the...apparatus," Dorian assured him. "Truth be told, I wouldn't know what to do with it if you gave it to me. My name is Dorian Andrael, and I'm here because a mutual acquaintance, a man of somewhat questionable repute, Braete of Skara, said you might have something I'm looking for. I'm Dorian Andrael, and I assume you are Telek the Scribe?"

    P3 Acquaintences.png

    The monk nodded. "I am Telek, andI know the man you speak of," the monk replied. "He has brought me some rather interesting and unique trinkets to study over the years. As payment I pass on things to him once I'm done examining them so he can sell them. I've also helped him decipher more than one ancient message or map with an ancient or extinct language. He's an interesting fellow, he is. Not nearly as violent as some people say. Not to me, at least."


    "Is the dye here with you?" Dorian asked, adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Can I see it?"


    Telek shook his head. "No, but it is secure. Are you interested? I hear the bottle may be cursed..." the monk replied. "Of course, I don't believe in such things, but there past few owners have met with unfortunate ends. Still, I'm here and breathing, so it can't be THAT cursed, can it?"


    Dorian took a deep breath and tried to keep the eagerness from his voice. After searching so hard, to be this close to his quarry was exhilarating. "Well, I am definitely interested in the dye, but can't make any firm offers until I see it in person."


    "Very well," Telek said, "come with me and I'll see if I can find it for you. It's back at my quarters at the library. Come along, come along."


    Dorian followed Telek through the city teleporters to the massive Moonglow library. Monks and scribes shuffled along in their robes, many with scrolls or ancient, dusty tomes under their arms. A few nodded to Telek or stopped to chat for a moment as he passed through. Telek waved and nodded to friends and colleagues as he went, but he didn't pause long enough to really talk. Finally, Dorian stood in the monk's study, watching as Telek rummaged through his things, searching. After a few moments the Scribe snapped his fingers and moved into the bedroom. He looked through his armoires for a moment before pulling out a small black velvet pouch. He very carefully untied the cord around the top of the pouch and opened it.

    P5 Looking.png

    Dorian peered inside to see a small crystal bottle with shimmering blue liquid. The bottle glowed a faint cerulean light just as the earrings Fate had showed him had glowed. Dorian's fingers trembled as a hand involuntarily reached for the pouch, but Telek drew it back.

    "Not so fast, Master Merchant," Telek growled. "I'm not just going to hand it over to you. This is one of the most interesting dyes I've come across. The pigments are like nothing I've ever seen. In truth, I think it may be beyond my understanding."

    P6 found.png

    "Are dyes a specialty of yours, then?" Dorian asked, trying to find a way to make a connection with the eccentric academic.


    Telek nodded, his eyes bright. "They are! I have studied dyes that seep only into leather, I've studied some that attach only to carved wood or stone furniture. Those are tricky ones. But I've never seen one with this shade of blue before. It truly has me stumped."


    Dorian nodded. "Well, I know where I could get a similar dye, but a crimson shade. And there is a Wizard I know who may be able to answer some of the questions you have about this one. He is quite skilled at decomposition of potions, tinctures, and dyes."


    Telek seemed intrigued. "A crimson special dye? I've never seen one of those before. That would be a treat, a treat indeed! And the chance to see what a Wizard could tell from this dye would be fantastic!"

    Dorian nodded. "It's a deal, then. I may even have one in my bank, if you have a moment to wait."


    Telek checked the clock on his wall and nodded. "The sun is on the way up now anyway," he replied. "The moons will have to wait until tomorrow night, I suppose."


    Dorian raced back to his bank and rummaged through the strongbox. Finally he found the dusty bottle of crimson special mask dye tucked back in the corner of his bank. He blew the dust off the bottle and tucked it into his pack as he headed back to the library. Dorian found Telek just where he'd left the monk. He pulled out the crimson dye, and Telek's eyes lit up with excitement. "Finally, a new shade of dye to examine!" He said, clapping his hands.


    Telek and Dorian exchanged dyes at the same time, and Dorian carefully took the small bottle out of its black velvet pouch. The bottles seemed to vibrate with a hidden power, and the light within the dye surged temporarily. Telek frowned at the light, but shook his head and held up his new treasure to the light of a tall candelabra, studying the way it shimmered in the light.

    P8 Deal struck.png


    Dorian bid the monk goodbye, but he wasn't sure Telek heard him. The monk was already completely engrossed in his study of the crimson mask dye. Dorian rode his horse back to the bank and tucked the blue dye into his bank box with care. With the dye safely in his bank's strongbox, Dorian turned his horse for the municipal moongate outside of town.


    It was time for a trip to Skara Brae and the Shattered Skull to collect his reward....
  2. The Watch

    The Watch Well-Known Member
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    Dorian sat in the Shattered Skull tavern and waited. The hour was late and there were only a handful of tables in the tavern common room that still had patrons seated around them. The dice games were all finished, and the last two men at a card table in the back corner had given up hours ago. Still, Dorian waited and nursed his Storm Brew Ale. The shadowy figure who had originally hired him hadn't left any means of getting in touch after the task was completed. He'd simply been told to return to the tavern with the bottle of special dye, and someone would meet him. Now, though, Dorian was beginning to wonder.

    Dorian drained the last of his ale, ordered another, and sat back with a sigh. He laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the cold storm outside in an old knife wound in his right shoulder. Instead of hiring a ship to bring him to Skara, Dorian had opted to use the public moongate for travel. He typically tried to avoid travelling by magic, even the municipal moongates worried him. Mages, scribes, and sorcerers had all assured him that the gates were perfectly safe, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a chance that when he stepped through on the other side part of him would either be missing or misplaced.

    A serving wench came by and left Dorian's ale on the table. When he finally leaned forward and opened his eyes, the shadowy figure in black was seated across from him. The man had a small smile on his lips and he nodded in greeting. "G'devening, Dorian," he said calmly. "I hope that your presence here means you have found what was asked?"

    Dorian nodded and slid the black velvet pouch across the table to the man. "I have," he replied, "though I've been told that it's cursed."

    The man untied the strings holding the pouch closed, glanced inside, and smiled. "You are truly a master of your art, Dorian," the man said. "We expected it to take you months to find this for us, I hope it wasn't too difficult for you."

    Dorian gave a small shrug. "No more so than usual," he replied. "Considerably less dangerous than some commissions I've taken, to be honest."

    "It wasn't the danger that concerned us," the man replied, "but we needed proof that you could track leads, follow small clues, and ferret out details no one else even thought to look for. The very fact that I'm sitting here, holding this vial, is proof that we have come to the right man with the right talents."

    "Since you bring that up," Dorian said, sipping his ale, "you told me the last time we talked that this was part of an audition for a job. Did I get it?"

    The man nodded slowly, "You did indeed."

    "Well, what is it and what does it pay?" Dorian asked when the man didn't continue.

    The man smiled. "The details of what we need done will be provided when the time is right," he answered. "As for the pay..." The man slid the black velvet pouch back across the table to Dorian. "This is the payment. My master has no use for the dye itself, or the bottle to be honest. We simply needed a story to tell you that would motivate you to both find the item and protect it long enough to deliver it to us. And that was accomplished."

    "What am I supposed to do with this?" Dorian asked, confused.

    "It is one of the rarest items in the realm," the man answered. "Sell it if you wish, I'm sure you can find a buyer with pockets deep enough for it. Or you can display it as a mark of your own wealth and prowess as a merchant. Donate it to the Vesper Library, or some such. It matters not to me or my master."

    Dorian thought a moment and considered standing up and walking out right then. But he still had the nagging feeling that to do so would not only be foolish, but could be dangerous as well. There was more to this man than he let on, and that worried him. Finally, Dorian picked up the pouch and tucked it back into his pack. He knew a few people who might be interested in such an item, and they would definitely pay handsomely for it.

    "Well, since your master is the one who is actually hiring me, when do I get to meet him?" Dorian asked

    The man in black stood. "When he decides the time is right," he answered. "We will be in touch, Dorian, when the time comes." Without waiting for an answer, the man in black turned and left.

    Dorian sat and finished his ale, brooding over the man in black and his mysterious master. He didn't like being kept in the dark like this, but there was something pulling at him, drawing him into this plot deeper and deeper. In the back of his mind, Dorian had a suspicion that the tugging he felt was Fate subtly pulling his will the direction she wanted.

    And that worried him more than anything....

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