• Mature • [Yaralon Harbor] Alliances and Consequences

[Kasoria]

"Who's it fer again?"

"Chamadarst. Immortal of Neutrality, Isolation-"

"Commerce."

"-and Glass."

That last one made Kasoria's head whip around for a moment. "Glass?"

"Aye," Manclin said with a smile, one that faded a moment after he realized what he'd said. Fates, but he'd been spending too much time with the lower rungs. It was twisting his vernacular into that of an Oh'Pee roustabout! "I suppose it fits with the theme. Neutrality, transparency, glass..."

Kasoria mused that for a moment or two as they passed the towering structure. It was by far the largest of its kind he'd seen in the city; hells, seen anywhere, if he was honest. It blocked out the sun and dominated the skyline of Yaralon for a league around. The sheer amount of gold and silver laid into the architecture was enough to blind the unwary. Here, the edifice crowed to all who entered from the south, is the home of the Immortal powerhouse of Yaralon. So huge that from where he stood, Kasoria could only see the gardens and courtyards beyind the gate, yet alone the soaring, sprawling buildings beyond. So rich and well-appointed that it was a Burho unto itself, populated and provisioned to survive on its own should it need to.

But it was not closed off. There was a stream of travelers and pilgrims marching in, under the guise of benevolent statues and robed acolytes and-

"Makes me fuckin' skin crawl," he said lowly, so only the men immediately around him could here. "All this...worship."

There was a rumble of agreement from the group, as there damn well should have been. Etzos and her children had always known the Immortals were not to be trusted, nor deified as gods. The last four arcs had merely reinforced that with such casual, inhuman brutality that generations to come would never need be reminded. Kasoria, Mikiros, Fagan, the two clerks... all of them looked upon those star-eyed pilgrims with looks ranging from disgust to contempt to fearful. Yes, fearful. Because if such a disease of the mind could gouge so deep into a mind, any human could be infected... and that they had seen, too.

"Come," Fagan said, not wasting anymore time on the culturally curious but morally disgusting sight. "Best not be late."

On they went to the Gold Gate, leaving the grandest temple of Yaralon behind them. The Water Burho lay beyond it, as Kasoria had heard the Burned Emperor's servants refer to it. That was unofficial, though. It was simply called "Yaralon Harbor" by most. A singular distinction amongst all the other Burhos that told him a lot. This wasn't just a place set apart from the city by geography, but by importance. Yaralon was a city in the midst deserts and steppes and plains, where little grew or could be harvested. Everything depended on sea trade; all were beholden to an efficient, sprawling, and always-open harbor.

And so, that is where the greatest power lies. Why else would we be here?

There was, of course, a company guarding the gate. The Gilded Shields, Manclin had informed him. Something of a better reputation than The Bleeders. Which made sense, considering the richest and most influential would be traveling through that gate after unloading their wares. Scum like The Bleeders could be given a northern gate and be free to fleece and torment, but fucking around with the real money, the real pulse of commerce? Never. That would be handed off to mercenaries more professional, if not more moral.

So it was not surprising that they passed through its arches without molestation. Kasoria even nodded curtly at a handful of armored sellswords, and got one in return. Then again, he guessed that the story of their arrival in Yaralon had already done the rounds a few dozen times by now. Likely growing in stature with every telling, and though Maxine had been the one who fought and bled, Kasoria would doubtless have his name attached.

He caught a handful of hidden smirks as he passed. A quick shine of grudging respect in faces made hard by scars and scruffy beards.

Aye, no friends of The Bleeders, these lads.

"Ah, sea air," Manclin said as they started walking downhill towards the harbor. Kasoria walked beside him, eyes always flickering. His clerks were behind and Mikiros brought up the rear, broad enough to be a shield for both men simply by walking. "I have missed it, you know."

Kasoria grunted and kept up his guard... but he didn't have eyes in the back of his head. So he didn't see the figure in a distant alley squint through his cowl at the little party. It studied them for a good while and by the time they vanished into the tumult of animals and humans pouring out of the harbor, they were sure. That was the a man the bounty had described in such scrupulous detail. With a hidden smile the figure scuttled away.

He needed to assemble the party. They had a fine hunt ahead.

[The Wanderer]

The Crescent Empress

The docks were alive with people at almost any hour. Ships came in during the day and night on a carefully scheduled routine which was designed so that captains who didn't like each other never came into contact during their trading with Yaralon. The docks were also the most peaceful place but that could have been because the whole harbor sat just beyond the Gold Gate and not actually inside the city. If you commit a crime at the harbor, where were you to go? Defenses could sink your ship before you even got out of the dock and the Gilded Shields would put you down before you could pass under their gate. Crime happened but it never went anywhere unless certain people wanted it to go well.

One could assume that as the delegation moved through the gate, word moved directly to the one that they were looking for. It helped that she had a gate... not all of them did. It gave the Crescent Empress an advantage that not even the massive tree in the middle of the city could take away. Regardless, after Kasoria's group passed through the gate into the stretch of road leading down to the harbor they would be hit with a strange array of smells wafting up from the sea. There were threats in the alleys but there were also beggars on the street. Every few hundred feet the delegation would see someone in tattered rags, shaking cups with coins- some nels and some different. Some beggars were performing with little instruments but they weren't all that good. Others just sat shaking their cups as people passed by.

As the delegation passed into the area of the harbor, their choices along the road would either bear fruit or rot. The group from Etzos was nearly surrounded as soon as they arrived but none of the various mercenaries who surrounded them had any weapons drawn. Well there were a few archers with bows in hand at a decent distance but they didn't have any arrows nocked yet. Two men with swords on their belts approached from the front and another two from behind the group. "You's the ones looking for the Empress?" The man on the right asked. He was bald but he had a little fur on his face. Human. Probably not the smartest bulb but a dull tool had its uses.

A woman in light blue dress with a dark grey cloak over it emerged from a wooden building in the harbor and looked around for a few trills before setting her eyes on the delegation. She had a fair complexion and long, dark hair that she wore half up and half down on this trial. She was partial to braids for function but she liked the way that her hair looked when it was a down and had chosen a different style for the trial. She had a board in her hand with several pieces of parchment and a permanently fixed ink pot at the top of it. She watched the delegation and the mercenaries surrounding them to see what they did. Bloodshed at the docks was not unheard of and one of the lot was sure to be a dastrion. For the moment, she did not intervene.

[Kasoria]

"kazz, see thiss?"

"I see them."

Fagan had to blink a few times before he realized his two bodyguards were speaking in Ith'ession. He hadn't heard the language for some time; the denizens of the Citadel didn't often speak it, regarding it as an anachronistic, lower-class dialect. But he knew it was... somewhat common among the Oh'Pee. Vestigial and not widespread, perhaps, but still you could walk among the people there and hear snatches of it. Among the older folk, the miners, the outcasts... and criminals.

But more than the words - which he could only just remember from old lessons - he could read the tone of their words. Miki with a hint of urgency, even with his mangled mouth. Kasoria speaking with a calmness that still came out with an iron lining... and him resting his hand on the hilt of a sword. Fagan looked around and saw the Raggedy Man flick his black gaze about them, settling one figure after figure and deciding while the diplomat was still working out-

They were surrounded. And Kasoria allowed it to happen.

Fagan beat down the sense of panic and desire to place that blame verbally. Kasoria was not a fool, nor some green boy playing at soldier. He'd seen the men coming from the crowd and the alleys before he had. He knew they were converging on them. He knew they would likely stop them, rather than escort them and talk on the move. If he had seen all this, and allowed it to happen, when he knew his role was to protect... then he did so knowing he could accomplish that.

"You's the ones looking for the Empress?"

The diplomat hesitated. Kasoria refrained from rolling his eyes. The man wasn't used to be addressed by... well, the help, essentially. He cleared his throat pointedly, trying to get the diplomat's mind to get back into the right groove. To the nob's credit, all it took was that and a quick, fastidious tightening of his robe before he stepped forth.

"Indeed we are, sir. We are the delegation from the city of Etzos, seeking to parlay with the Crescent Empress, who presides over this... beautiful harbor."

Fine, so he swept his hand over a street full of beggars when he said that, but it's the thought that counts.

Kasoria let the man drone on a while longer, and did his job. He watched. Without turning around he looked side to side, and spied the silhouettes on the roofs. Saw the men with armor and blades and other assorted weapons. Scanned their faces with nothing so crass as attempts at intimidation or ingratiation. He just... marked them. Let them know he saw them. Trusted to his reputation among the people of Yaralon, and his own well-placed confidence in the abilities that he had earned it with. Behind him, Miki loomed over the two clerks and with quick, simple gestures, ordered them to stay close and in front of him. Mainly so if things went back, he could whirl, unlimber his shield, and protect their rear and them in the same movement.

Kasoria would have to handle the rest. Which he had no problem with, if they decided to-

There was a flash of blue amidst the yellow and bronze and black and grey. A woman with a straight back and intelligent eyes, watching them from the steps of a building. Kasoria frowned at her for a moment. Something seemed... off, about her. The way she carried herself, maybe? No matter, things were in front of him that mattered more. He took his hand from his sword hilt, and let them see it. No harm, see? No trouble...

"Would you happen to know where we could find here? Mayhap are you her... emissaries??

... and subtlety awakened his Sparks, one after another, rousing them to life and primed them for attack. If needed.

[The Wanderer]

The Crescent Empress

"What's that mean? Emissaries?" The bald brute at the head of the group said aggressively. It seemed that he didn't understand the fancy way that Maclin said they were there for a meeting. The bald one looked at the mercenary next to him. "Is he making fun of me? Fancy Etzos boy." The other mercenary seemed confused by what the bald one said and the woman watching from just outside the building seemed to stop enjoying the show. She locked eyes with Kasoria when he noticed her and she smiled slightly, offering a small nod before she began to walk towards them.

"That's enough boys! Go unload Ducart's shipment. You know he's too old to lift those boxes." The woman in blue and green with dark hair shouted in a way that still somehow felt proper. All of the men who'd gathered around the delegation removed their hands from their weapons and dispersed to do as they were told. The lady cast a glance at the notes she had written already on her board to stall while the mercenaries scattered before looking up to address the delegation. "I apologize for Ed. He doesn't like words he can't understand. He isn't bright but he does a good job most of the time."

"So, if I had to guess- since you're staying with Targon but you've been busy... you are here to try and trade? Well who isn't really. Guessing harbor visitors came to trade is like when you get your fortune read and they say you're going to get wet... but it's raining outside so... it's inevitable anyways... okay..." The woman definitely trailed off but she seemed excited to meet these people. It seemed like it was a game to her but that could have been an act. First impressions were important and she'd chosen to let her first impression be homeless people on the streets and rude mercenaries. Either she made herself seem a flower among the weeds or she really was just something different in this place. "Please, call me Alys. The whole 'Crescent Empress' thing feels a little egotistical. It works for Targon though."

[Kasoria]

Well, there's the lady in charge.

Kasoria knew it wasn't his job to spot things like that. Manclin was aware that he could; his assumptions about The Band and their leader being blunt, mentally-stunted thugs were dispelled within breaks of meeting them. Kasoria more than the others, though, had proven that he could pick up on subtle hints that surprised the diplomat. Yet even Kasoria knew that in the grand sliding scale of making points, this one would be obvious even to an amateur.

The bald sellsword didn't much like the fancy words. A beat of confusion gave way to offence, and the muscle of the Etzori group prepared to-

Do nothing, as it turned out. Because a waif of a girl dressed like some noble's daughter bid Baldy and his whole crew scamper off. And they did. Without a scowl or a frown, a question or a demand that she explain herself. Fates, they didn't even query her safety, being left alone with someone as clearly dangerous as the little man with black eyes. They were that confident in her abilities... or mayhap equally certain of the consequences of wasting her time with fool questions.

Probably a bit of both.

"Ahhhhhh, Mistress Alys!" Fagan said eventually, using the extended "ah" to gather his thoughts and cover him processing what he was seeing. He'd expected a dowager of a woman, an iron lady like Marshal Verona, long in years and with the hard eyes to prove it. Instead there was this... girl. Still, the diplomat rallied. Adaptation was his trade, after all. "You mark us correctly! We seek an audience with you, to discuss what deals and accommodations we might arrive at. So far I have had some success with the Burned Emperor-" he made a show of leaning forward a touch and winking, as if sharing a private joke "-and I'd very much like to preserve my lucky streak!"

Kasoria and Miki maintained their positions; pillars of professional vigilance and latent intimidation where Manclin was all charm, and his two clerks hung at his heels with their book bags and parchment. The Raggedy Man swept the street around them, taking one direction while Miki did the other. None of the beggars were desperate or stupid enough to shuffle too close to them. One that did was treated to a brief puff of wind from Kasoria's palm, fingers snapping out from touching his palm to straight out... and the muted Sovereign blast was enough to ruffle the one-armed man's hair and warn him away.

"Might we adjourn to somewhere a little less raucous, your... I mean, Alys?" Kasoria resisted the urge to shake his head. He'd known Fagan long enough to know when he was feigning ignorance, only to "suddenly" remember the title his subject wanted to hear. Ever the damn politician. "Your Harbor is quite the monument to diverse crowds and peoples, but our business might better be handled around... a table, perhaps?"

[The Wanderer]

The Crescent Empress

Kasoria had a good eye for detail and noticed almost immediately why everyone except Alys referred to the woman as Empress. Even if just to soften the blow of what they had to report, they called her Empress because they were afraid of what might happen. Alys was not one to strike in the moment. She was a schemer, a planner, and ruthless. A insult today might lead to a family member's death a week later. Maybe longer. Maybe shorter. Always the right amount of time for the message to be clear. Don't fuck with her stuff.

As much as she presented herself as friendly, kind and flowery- her heart was as black as it needed to be for the world that she lived in. Was that to say she was incapable of love and friendship? No. She had many friends. She had loved many men and women in her short life. She simply separated personal affairs with business. The Etzori delegation was there on business and as such they had to contend with the more dangerous side of Alys. Targon's favor got them a foot in the door that no one else would have had. She wasn't normally as friendly. Alys smiled and offered her hand to Manclin to shake before offering her arm so that the two of them could walk with their arms linked together. It was a test. How intimate would Manclin be willing to get before negotiations? It certainly wasn't normal to walk with arms linked unless there was some extreme need or deeper relationship. Alys whispered something in Manclin's ear as if to level the ground between them without putting him out in front of his people. She had said, "You're cute, so I'll let it go- but I estimated you as someone smarter than that. I still do, clever boy." She was referring to his feigned mistake. Almost calling her something regal before going with what she had asked. It was not a move she had not seen before... but it was one that she admired. You had to be a certain caliber of tradesman to know when and where to pull that. Manclin would have succeed with such efforts against The Parchment Empress, but not Alys.

Next Alys spoke louder so all could hear, "If I can help a friend get lucky, I do try to. Yet, believe it or not, I don't live or have an office here." Alys said before explaining further while they walked, "I have a ship and I manage ships, but I live in another Burho." One might note that she did not say which other Burho she lived in. Probably one where her control didn't feel any different than it did at the docks. She was playing the role of a flirtatious young woman very well but she hadn't really crossed any line that wasn't already set for her to pass. Manclin was the one who said he wanted to keep his lucky streak. "My ship would work but... I don't let people onto my ship without a few drinks first." A truth or a lie? It was very difficult to tell with her. Maybe it was just a joke? "We can use Reinfault's ship. The crew is in the Ghost Burho trying to find out if they can drink ectoplasm and the captain is in the Pleasure Burho... if that is what Nettles decided to call it. Either way, the ship is empty and we will have plenty of time to discuss business there. I think he has a round table. Most others have square or rectangular ones. A shame too, a round table really complete as small room."

If Manclin had taken her arm, Kasoria would notice that Alys wasn't exactly leading the walk. She lingered a little behind Manclin's pace and only ever asserted herself when they needed to shift direction. Within a few bits they'd arrived at the ship which Alys described and she'd unlink her arm before leading the small group to the captain's cabin. A statement to be sure. It didn't matter who owned the ship. If it was in her harbor, she was the captain. She didn't conduct business that way but images were made to be preserved.

When they came into the captain's cabin, Alys moved too quickly for anyone to stop her. She began darting around the room and pulling chairs to the table so that everyone would have a place to sit. Interesting, one might think, that the ship had just enough chairs for everyone in the delegation to sit down except Alys and it seemed she was not going to sit until all of them did. She gestured towards the chairs she had set up for them, in front of them, and smiled politely. She'd given them what they wanted and arguably more service. She was consciously waiting to see what Manclin did. Would she get more words? Would the guards not take the seats that they had been offered? The chairs would prove a detriment to the ability to surveil the room.

At this point, Kasoria would likely recognize why Alys was so confident walking around alone while The Burned Emperor had a guarded manor. Alys was one of the most dangerous humans living in Yaralon. Her death would rend the economy of the city. Anyone responsible would suffer far worse than death. She was comfortable because she ALWAYS felt something that only a few ever really felt. She always felt safe.

It should be noted that when Kasoria encouraged the beggar to leave them alone Alys noticed. Her expression was hard to read but a simple person would have seen it as disappointment. Kasoria wasn't simple. He would know that the beggar approaching wasn't an accident. Someone like Alys didn't turn her head to see what happened with a random beggar approaching a guard. Not here. Whatever she wanted to know, she knew now and they had to live with what would come as a result.

[Kasoria]

Bloody cracked, is this one.

Which was the obvious conclusion to be reached. The flighty nature, the cherry smile, the flirtatious manner. All of it pointed to a spoiled girl playing the role of a monarch, like some princess in a kingdom that acted as if the whole world were her court. Maybe the pressures of being the Empress had cracked her, instead? Maybe she was broken by pressure and endless buzzing threats, kept alive only by luck and her loyal guardians. Kasoria doubted both options. This was Yaralon: the only thing more valuable that a quick sword was a quicker mind. He was seeing what this woman wanted them to see. She wasn't cracked, she wasn't a girl, and she was not by any means or at any point fully in control of the situation.

The eyes he saw in the alleys and doorways as they walked to the ship told him that much. Every one seemed to bear a new set of staring faces. They would pass one, and another would appear. Everywhere she trod, eyes were upon her. From all kinds of humans and some other things besides. It was as if the whole burho had grown a thousand stalks with which to peer at them, watching over its ruler as she traveled. Kasoria thought that was likely the effect she'd wanted to create, too.

Just hope the nob ain't blind to it.

The brig's cabin was spacious, but not ostentatious. Very much the office and abode or a working captain. Kasoria and Miki scanned every window, door, and piece of furniture when they entered. While the Crescent Empress (sorry, Alys) was busy getting chairs arranged like some fussy hen, Kasoria walked around the edge of the room. Eyes roving over every surface, and every space big enough to hold a man, or a child. He knew from experience even the latter could be dangerous... but he didn't expect to find an assassin tucked away.

She didn't seem the type for something so obvious.

Keep your cool, old boy.

Fagan Manclin kept the cheery smile on his face as they walked the streets of the Harbor, mirroring the carefree expression of their host. This was... not what he expected. He was used to stiffer, more formal souls in his line of work, patent disassemblers and liars they might all be. But this Alys was more a vagabond lunatic than a rule - no, the ruler of Yaralon. She who all others had to pay homage to, and be wary of. He remembered Targon's words as they traveled, all the way into the captain's cabin.

"Stick closely to whatever deal you make. The spirit, not just the letter. Rumor has it that she is a much less forgiving partner than I am."

By the time they were all seated, Fagan had reached into his coat to present the letter that Targon had given them. He showed none of the discomfort that he felt from speaking to her while seated, and she stood. That was the opposite of how things were supposed to go... and, he was discovering, that was yet another part of her pattern. She really was hammering it home, by that point. Misdirection. Defying expectations. Making things topsy-turvy to unnerve and bamboozle. It probably worked wonders for her, not to mention the timeless benefit that being a pretty young woman always conferred to one.

"With the regards of the Burned Empress, Alys. We have made our arrangements with him, but he suggested that we speak with you, post haste! "Nothing gets in or out without her knowing", those were his words. So naturally we would like to discuss terms for Etzori merchandize moving through the city, and any alternate accord we might make." He shrugged his shoulders lightly, but not too theatrically. This clearly was an actress; she would not appreciate so farcical a display. "I'd say any named "empress" would have interest beyond marking freight, and Etzos is in need of new ventures. If we could assist or come to some agreement, I would be happy to see it so."

He waited until Alys looked at the parchment before flicking a glance behind her at Kasoria. The ornery old sellsword had not liked being mad to sit, but since he knew the mercurial woman would speak nothing until he did, he still obeyed. He kept his chair placed perpendicular to the table, one leg bent under him, ready to get to his feet in half a heartbeat. As they made eye contact, he saw the Raggedy Man send a brief pulse of ether to his black eyes, making them flare... and wink.

He's ready. So are his Sparks. Now, do your job, Fagan, and make the deal.

[The Wanderer]

The Crescent Empress

Alys took the letter with the seal in her hands and examined it for a few trills before setting it back down on the table. She didn't open the letter or read of the contents, she only examined the seal itself. She didn't seem particularly swayed by the mention of the Burned Emperor or by the presentation of his seal but she didn't let her act drop for even a trill. Whatever character she was playing had been expecting this sort of thing to happen. Still standing, Alys began a slow walk around the table that everyone was sitting at. She looked perplexed as if she was debating something in her head but it could also have been that she was trying to see what everyone would do to keep her in their line of sight.

"Sunderly always speaks so highly of me... he just doesn't get that he isn't my type." Alys said to Manclin as she came around behind Kasoria. It was said in a much more direct way than she'd been conducting herself thus far. She needed numbers and information to accommodate anything. She continued her walk though, moving back around into Manclin's direct line of sight. She gave Manclin a strange look when he said the word empress. He was trying to avoid calling her that because she'd asked him not to but he brought it up regardless. Interesting. Confident. She liked it. Her look turned into a warm smile and she nodded her head gently. "How many ships and what is your cargo? I need to know the former, but I'll only work with you if I know the latter as well. The seal is good, but I can't keep the harbor safe if I don't know what's moving through it."

Then however, she addressed the point Manclin had made about named empresses. "If we're named already, we don't need more. We do more because we enjoy the game. So, tell me what you want and I will tell you what I can give you. Or..." Her voice trailed slightly and Alys looked towards Kasoria. Maybe it was because he was the first one to see her or maybe it was something else, but after a short glance at the Raggedy Man, Alys turned her focus back to the negotiator, "I can offer three ships carrying stone, wood, and metal. They were bound for Sunderly but he'll accept the loss if he knows it went to you instead. That is my flat offer. Never my favorite offer because there is so much fun to be had in negotiating."

[Kasoria]

Kasoria had been in enough duels to know when he was being toyed with. Of course, that hadn't happened very often. These trials, when it did, it was because he allowed it. Gave him the chance to study his opponent, work out their tells, weaknesses, limitations. The events just two days prior were a testament to that... but this was not the street outside the Burned Emperor's manse. This was the Crescent Empress' turf, and he couldn't skewer or slash his way out of this one. He had to rely on the man to his right, with all his breeding and propriety and connections.

Wonderful. I feel so much safer.

"Ah, I regret to say it's early trials to give you exact numbers, Alys," Fagan said, no hesitation this time, giving the impression of warming to using her preferred name. "Rebuilding our city and the lands around it has been... trying. Putting roofs over heads and planting fields to feed mouths has been our priority. Lamentably, resurrecting our merchant shipping has to be second."

He held up both hands briefly, as if to forestall an objection.

"But fear not! I would not be here, under the High Council's aegis, if we were not planning to send a hundred sails flitting across the surf at some near time." He settled back into his seat, ignoring the hard bottom and making himself appear comfortable, if anything else.

"But I should say, once terms are established and goods procured, at least a half dozen Etzori-bound vessels should be coming through your harbor every cycle. That will be for the first arc, most likely this one. As our city recovers and renews, regrows its markets and infrastructure, that number will grow. Exponentially."

Kasoria caught Miki's eye from across. Canny as always, the mute had positioned himself so no matter where the wandering empress walked, one of them would have her in view. Apart from when she was directly behind Miki, of course, but that went for almost everyone. The big man mouthed the gigantic word Manclin had used and Kasoria's lips squirmed in restrained amusement. The man himself seemed to relax even more, appearing ever more at home as he warmed to his subject matter.

"As far as the cargo goes, you know well our wares. Gemstones of all kinds are still our stock in trade, and we have a surplus as of the moment. I would also say the hides and ivories of our lands, but... they have been scarce, lately. Our animals need time to recover, as well."

For a moment, a gloom settled across the Etzoris that was almost palpable. A sharp sadness that all their kind seemed to bear wherever they walked in the world in this age. Their home had been a chaotic, messy place, rife with opportunism and the cruelties of commerce married to governance... but it had been lush. There had been so much potential there, so much life. From the sprawling capital to the industrious towns to the forests and rivers teeming with game, fields stretching for days that ably fed a city of millions, with yet tons to spare for export or storage.

And now...

To his credit, Fagan shook off the cloud faster than anyone else. With a quick inhalation and a straightening of his shoulders, he resumed his spiel. After listening to Alys' first offer, of course. He frowned a touch, mentally doing the math on such a cargo, times three. Ran it through what the High Council and the Guild Masters had charged him with... and made a thoughtful face.

"Well, you're in luck, Alys, because while that is a generous offer, it is not necessarily what we're after. You asked what our cargo was, and I am happy to tell you. Down to the carats and the opals. But as far as when we need, well... coin is only the beginning."

He sat forward, hands sliding across the table and then clasping into each other.

"Yaralon is not just a great city for its trade, but its traffic of people. It is quite the crossroads, on could say for half the world. And that traffic moves through your port. We would be... indebted, if you could ensure that when ships carrying those seeking a life across the Orm'del, Etzos is the first place suggested to them."

Fagan opened his hands, palms raised. An image of beseeching if ever there was one. Kasoria kept his face neutral, as did Miki... but he silently applauded the man. Here he was, talking with a woman of power who was clearly playing with them, and he tossed his ego aside. He abased himself before those in a position to aid their homeland. Did not think of his own pride, only the needs of Etzos. Kasoria respected the man more there, in that dingy cabin on a deserted ship, than any other time since they'd arrived.

"We are a nation running low on people, Alys. We need fresh blood, or I fear our homeland may struggle to prosper. Oh, I know it will survive, but that is not all those leading a country should hope for. I, we, the Council, the guilds... we would have Etzos thrive again. And we will open our borders and our markets and our homes to all who would come. As I mentioned to Targon, we also have need for mercenaries. Not as a replacement for our own troops, but more as... an enhancement. Filling in the gaps, as it were. Of course we can offer coin for our services, as well as long-term contracts for them."

Fagan Manclin reclined in his chair, waving with one hand as if shooing a fly.

"Of course, we can establish those connections ourselves. Yaralon is hardly short on sellsword companies, even for such a far-off contract. But if you could direct us towards the more trustworthy and effective ones, rather than the dregs and turncoats... we would remember it."

[The Wanderer]

The Crescent Empress

Telling the Crescent Empress that reviving the merchant fleet wasn't top priority was a... bold move when one had come to trade with her. Yet Alys seemed unfazed entirely by it. She seemed to still be waiting for numbers, even when Manclin dramatically raised his hands to stop an objection that never came. She listened better than most and often knew when to interrupt and when to wait. She had assumed Manclin a smart enough man not to come empty-handed. Sunderly might have taken promises of future payment but that was why Sunderly couldn't control the harbor. Most Yari didn't want to wait to be paid back later. Alys needed something to convince them to work with the delegation now.

Alys could tell that Manclin was just as much a performer as she was but she didn't think he was as good at it. He was good... but he wasn't her. After much lead up, he finally got around to what he was offering. Half a dozen wasn't a large number of ships but it was large enough to force Alys to adjust schedules if the deal went through. Was that effort worth the reward? She continued to listen as Manclin spoke, giving her the advantage of time to run numbers in her head. He talked a lot... this Manclin. Most of the people of Yaralon were more direct, even the merchants. There was something to be said for a Yari who could keep up in what most people would call high society. Most ended up becoming Runners.

Gemstones were good. She could do a lot more trading gemstones than the Burned Emperor could because she traded all across Idalos. Valuable stones were valuable almost everywhere and she knew where to get the best prices for them. Hides and ivory were useful too but wouldn't pay out quickly enough. A surplus of gemstones and a shortage of animal products... Alys stood with her face expressing interest but giving away none of her thoughts. When the gloom settled over the delegation, Alys didn't participate. She was reorganizing ships and schedules in her head while the rest of them looked sad. Fagan shook out of it and got back to talking but Alys had already deduced where it was going. Sunderly would get his shipment after all.

Manclin sat forward, Alys could only assume that it was for dramatic effect. She liked that. He was getting better by the bit. The first time her act seemed to slip a little was when Manclin mentioned that he wanted to direct people towards Etzos. Her expression shifted to coy as if she thought he was going to suggest slavery but when he explained himself her face went back to normal... well as normal as before. By the time Manclin was done with his speech, the most present expression on Alys's face would be doubt. She wasn't trying to hide it at all. She began her response with a question.

"How did you come to Yaralon?" Alys held up a hand to stop Fagan from answering, "Sorry, dumb question, I know you didn't come by sea. We'd have met already. My point is that the Crescent Sea does not have... forgiving waters. The fractures make it unpredictable and dangerous. Trade with Yaralon thrives because of what we can provide to make up for the danger, but people? People are harder to promise. I don't see many looking to resettle who come through here in groups and even I can't redirect people who complete the Run. Once they receive their silver circle, the city has a way of pulling you back." Alys stopped for a moment and tilted her head. "I do have a few ships with captains who are retiring and leaving the ship to their first mates. Not many, most don't live that long, but I have a few. When we exchange goods, I can suggest they resettle their families in Etzos. But they have been loyal. I would hope to hear good things in the future from them about the new home." She seemed a little stern for the first time on that point.

She let out a deep breath and shrugged slightly. "Like I said, people are harder to promise but I like having people in my debt. I'll do what I can to redirect the willing to Etzos. As for the mercenaries..." Alys's voice trailed and then she imitated what Manclin had done earlier. She leaned over and put her hands on the table. "You want the Death Nel Raiders. They are the largest and most diverse group- probably the only one large enough to... enhance was how you put it, right? Large enough to enhance your army. The problem is that a very short time ago Isandra Haze returned to Yaralon through a fracture. If you're not familiar with who she is, well..." Alys gestured around, referring to all of Yaralon, "she started all this a few hundred arcs ago. People are, understandably, a little on edge about that right now." But it seemed that Alys was not. Not at all.

"I'd recommend the Gilded Shield's next but I wouldn't want to detract from the security of the Gold Gate. So... the Unbroken! They guard the Shield Gate and are one of the larger groups. They could be of service. As you know, you'll find no shortage of mercenaries in Yaralon if the other two groups aren't fulfilling your needs. The Parchment Burho is almost always filled with Runners trying to establish contracts. Write out what you want and walk the Burho near the Archive. You'll find someone... or they'll find you."