• Closed • Something Fishy this way Comes

[Rorom]

5th of Ashan 719

The Ocean Gate was truly a sight to behold. The walls of Yithiral rose high, casting a long shadow over the docks as Rorom floated into port with his crew. He stood on the deck of his ship with a wheel barrow full of fish and bivalves. Meanwhile, Mirq, Eairok, and Noille were busying themselves for the imminent docking of The Lucky Bird.

They engaged with the end of the pier, where most of the smaller vessels were to be moored. There they tied it to the pier, and lowered a wide gangplank for the passage of the barrow. Not a few moments after it was lowered, Mirq hopped out of the Bird and onto the pier, having grown claustrophobic during his time at sea aboard the tiny vessel.

Rorom nodded to Eairok and Noille, knowing full well the two would wish for some privacy. That was one of the reasons Rorom would be the one taking the fish to market.

He rolled the wheel barrow down the gangplank, and farther down the pier to the wharves of Yithiral. Then, once his feet landed on the cobbles of the wharf, he rolled his barrow through the broad avenue leading into The First Market. He only needed to follow the scent of all manner of foods from there, to find the Plaza where food was cooked and prepared. That was the Berry Plaza.

Rorom cried out, "Muscles, fish, squid! Raw and fresh!"

His purpose wasn't only to hawk his fish on the locals. Rorom, since leaving Rharne and going through that bounty hunt with Thagoras, decided he wanted to try something new. He was tired of waking to the scent of mackerel rotting in his hold. The Biqaj was beginning to want more from his life. Finery like silks and commodity trading was where he real money was.

Of course, there was the potential for a food run into Yaralon, especially with news spreading of the Pirate blockade of that city. That was the model of a lucrative run. But for once he was sick of the smell of fish.

He'd resolved to let Eairok and Noille captain and sail The Lucky Bird. He even planned to make it a wedding gift, for whenever Eairok took his hands out from behind his ass and make a move on the girl. It was time to make a finer ship. Oh yes, Rorom had his ambitions.

But for now, he had to unload some fish. "Fish and squid! Netted out of the deepest ocean by my own ship!" He left the last word hanging. Rorom wanted to test the waters, and see what kind of desperate men might be scared up for the purposes of a recruitment for his new ship.

"Squid! Fish! Pearls even!" Rorom shouted, "Treat your family to the finer things in life!"

[Pharan]

I

n the gray gloom of early Ashan the ocean had taken on the color of slate. Seagulls wheeled in a colorless sky, dark spots over a darker sea. For a moment, Pharan kept his gaze fixed on their slender bodies. A fortnight on the water had not quelled the sense of unease he felt standing on a pier as the ocean roiled underfoot.

“What about another ship?”, he asked. “There has to be a captain able and willing to take the risk.”

“Able? Sure. Willing…”, the Ithecal shrugged. “Wouldn’t get my hopes up if I was ye.”

Pharan cast the captain a sidelong look. No giant among his people, the Ithecal still towered over him without effort, a mountain of scales and muscle and stoic reticence. The man had been Orik’s suggestion, one of his many contacts among the local seamen. So far, his help had proven elusive.

Pharan waited. The Ithecal turned to bellow commands to a group of deckhands toiling down the quay.

“Why?”, Pharan finally asked, as the group of sailors dispersed.

“Ye haven’t got enough.”

With a grunt, the Ithecal pointed at the dark shape of a nearby ship. “The list ye gave me—with the goods you won’t fill even half the hold of most merchant vessels. Even before Orik started to sell it in smaller portions to whoever would have it there was barely enough. I would know—was one of the first he asked.”

The other man dropped his arm. “So ye’ll need to find someone able to make just enough room for ye goods. Someone headed for a place interested in fine silks. Someone who doesn’t care about whatever’s out there, doing away with our boats. And someone willin’ to deal with your ilk—no offense.”

“And you don’t believe I can find someone like that,” Pharan concluded, his smile thin.

“Ye might,” the Ithecal shrugged and spat. “But then I don’t know ‘em.”

Pharan inclined his head. He turned towards the harbor, then stopped. “What would you do?”

The seaman shrugged again. “Ask a fisher.”

“A fisher?”

“Aye. A fisherman.” The Ithecal scratched his square chin where a scar burrowed deep into his scaled hide. “Them got small ships. Rharne and Yaralon aren’t far away—or other cities if they feel adventurous.” He squinted. “With whatever’s out there… might fancy the idea of doing business elsewhere for a while, eh?”

Pharan pursed his lips. “Do you know any?”

“Ah, not anymore.” The other man looked over his shoulder. “But the Daring and The Lucky Bird came in early—should find their crew up in the markets, vending their catches.”

Again, Pharan turned to leave only to stop a second time. “I owe you…?”

“Nothing,” the Ithecal waved off, then eyed him. “But you can tell Orik that next time I see him I expect him to settle his gambling bets. The wee bastart slipped away last game when I had only stepped out for a moment.”

“How much for a moment of your time, captain?”

The Avriel had stopped an arm’s length before Rorom, his dark bird eyes fixed on the barrel with seafood for just a moment before he lifted his gaze to meet the Biqaj's eyes with a private smile.

“…and none of the fish, if you would.”

[Rorom]

A moment of his time?

Rakvald was stopped in his tracks by the appearance of an avriel, of all things. You didn’t see much of the bird-folk outside of their territory. Yet, then again, he wasn’t far from Athart by his own estimation. Wasn’t it a good few score miles to the Southeast of Ivorian? Right on the trading lanes. He made a note to be cautious with this one. Especially if Fortuna decided to show up and get ideas about not being the only bird in Rorom’s company.

”Ah, time is a precious commodity, especially when I have catch to unload.” Rorom said, intrigued yet knowing far too well that appearing eager was the last resort of a penniless fool. Charmadarst’s tradition had taught him a thing or two about how to negotiate, yet he was still only a novitiate at that. But he was making a good faith effort to project an air of neutrality about any offers coming his way.

Yes he’d changed since Rharne, but that was a good thing.

”But you say you have no need of fish? That makes our time together all the more valuable.” Rorom said with a twisted grin. ”Still, I suppose I have a moment if you have business?”

He waited to hear the avriel’s offer, or understand what exactly he wanted from their meeting.

In the meantime, there were paying customers, pushing coppers into his palms and then taking bits and pieces of the fish while the avriel gathered his words and wits for what would likely be an intriguing pitch. He thanked each of them with lukewarm courtesy, placing the coins into his side satchel. He didn’t worry about pickpockets. One of the perks of Sombran, that.

"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Rorom Nji'Ihal. Captain of the Lucky Bird." He straightened his collar, giving the avriel an appraising look.

[Pharan]

T

he coins clicked softly on the salt-gnarled wood as they were put down, one after the other, on the table. Five coins in total, silver, not gold. It seemed their owner had a clear idea of how much the time of a fisher might be worth. Maybe, he was just stingy.

“Pharan Elluin. And a moment of your time, yes,” Pharan confirmed his offer.

The Avriel took a quick step to the side when a heavy-set woman pushed her way past him to drop a squid the length of his forearm between him and Rorom. Pharan’s expression became a habitual scowl but he contained himself. Arms crossed, he watched as the fisherman began to dole out his catches with well-practiced patience.

At least, he thought, that barrel of his is growing empty quickly.

“I don’t have any need for fish, no,” Pharan said again, once there was a lull in the line of potential customers. He nodded to the east where the streets slopped as they wound towards the harbor. “I was led to believe by one of your colleagues, that you might be open for a business proposal. A mercantile endeavor if you will.”

Pharan took a step forward and two back as a little Ithecal girl dropped a few copper nel on the table, to receive a large fish of some kind or other in turn. It was a peculiar dance avoiding the customers and fish both and after a moment, the Avriel gave up and shifted to the side of the table instead.

For two, three trills he studied the man’s profile. “Before I go into details about what I need—would you mind to enlighten me about what you know about the local trade routes, captain?”, he asked finally. “In particular those you have sailed before? If any?”

[Rorom]

While many seamen needed little provocation to speech, Rorom had always been fairly reticent and cautious in his approach with strangers. The advent of his marking by Charmadarst had begun to alter that. Even before, however, talking shop about his trade and especially sea travel got him to open up more than anything else.

Rorom scratched his beard while studying the avriel in front of him. By then, much of the fish was gone, and a healthy bag of nels were resting in the mariner’s palm. These he placed carefully into his side satchel. Then the avriel had his undivided attention.

”Well, there’s a trade off, depending on the kind of route you want to take between continents, or even through the coasts of the Eastern Continent.”

”The way I see it, there’s two ways to go. After leaving Ivorian patrolled waters, you have all manner of scum and piracy occurring. It’s safe just before you hit the Rharnian route, which will lead you either into the river that runs from the Stormlands. It’s rife with river pirates there, and things have been especially bad since the trouble brewing in Rynmere. The Etzori Belt is a favorite of corsairs looking to plunder fat merchants and their undermanned boats.”

”Then there’s the routes that are less travelled by pirates. But for good reason. Sea creatures are especially feisty beneath deep waters. But it isn’t just that.” Rorom genuflected as he pronounced the next name out of his mouth, ”Chrien sends storms to the surface of those waters. Waves larger than the highest walls of any keep you’ve seen would turn any number of smaller ships upside down.”

”Going from Athart to Strosdyn, for instance… This is a straight shot and well clear of pirates for the most part. It’s simple enough to avoid them over the deeper waters, but one stray wind can send you south, right into Moseke’s Cauldron, waters that boil with the heat of a volcano! You’d need not only a great navigator for such a voyage, if only to know which way you’re going.” Rorom was not the best navigator by any stretch of the imagination, and had never entertained the idea of traveling the Athart-Strosdyn route. But he suspected that wasn’t necessary here, although he could be wrong.

”So… Say I was going to bring a shipment of jewels or what have you from Ivorian to Ne’Haer, I would rally up a group of volunteers, marines, sailors and thugs for protection on the voyage, taking the Rharnian route north, up toward the Etzori belt and then following the Western coast all the way toward Ne’haer, which just happens to be where I’m headed.”

Rorom tapped his foot as he counted the many miles it would take to undergo such a voyage in his head. He counted a fair many dozens of trials. But given the rarity of commodities between cities, it could prove quite lucrative, enough to band together a group of marines to help see him through the more dangerous waters of the Etzori waters. ”Now you said you had a business proposition? It just so happens I have a boat available if you need someone or something transported.”

[Pharan]

P

haran listened in silence. In the east, the pale disk of the sun was swallowed by a storm front the color of slate. The stream of people in search of fresh fish and molluscans dwindled to a trickle. A one-eyed tom, its ginger fur ruffled by the winds, slunk forward to gorge himself on the offal gathering at the feet of old fisherwomen.

By his side, Rorom talked about the intricacies of trade around the island—and Athart. From time to time, Pharan nodded to the mariner’s words; compared the heard to the little he knew. Momentarily he brought up the other man’s tangle, but when the shades of the slow-winding skein matched the man’s calm, self-assured attitude he willed it out of existence again.

“You are a well-traveled man, it sounds like”, he said finally, once the captain of the Lucky Bird had ended. “I hope you will forgive my curiosity—but it’s not often you find yourself asking a fisherman to tend to a merchant’s tasks.”

Pharan’s lips curved into a faint smile. Despite his words, he didn’t look particularly apologetic as he tore his eyes away from the crowd of marketgoers that still sometimes ebbed towards them in pursuit of fish and other seafood.

“I do have a business proposal to make—but I have to admit, it is somewhat peculiar.” He reached into his pocket to produce a folded piece of parchment—a record of goods, with weights and measurements and curt descriptions—rendered in his own, unadorned hand.

“That’s a list of fabrics I currently have sitting in a local warehouse—good Athart silk for the most part, also some linen and a bolt of lace or two. You said if you were to ship jewelry, you would hire additional deckhands and a sellsword or two and sail to Ne’haer—I am offering you that. Just replace the gold and gems with quality textile fit for nobles and rich citizenry.”

Pharan straightened. “I don’t have a buyer in Ne’haer, but if you were to take it all, I would make you a good price. You could have the goods on your ship before the morrow. No need to sail to Athart. No need for docking fees or random… taxes to greedy harbormasters. It could be all yours—to sell in Ne’hear or elsewhere, at your leisure.

“If you are interested, I can have samples of the fabrics be brought to your ship before nightfall. Any weaver or tailor will assure you, they are of excellent quality.”

[Rorom]

Rorom shrugged at the avriel's expression of skepticism. "Well, any Biqaj that's spent more than an arc's time on land without break, would learn any routes he had to travel. Whether he owns a boat or travels as a crewman. Our natural curiosity and interest prompts us to inquire on such details. I'll freely admit I haven't done much cross continental trading. It's a risky venture. But you won't find a more cautious and careful captain than Rorom Nji'ihai."

It was times such as this, that Rorom praised the fact that he was blessed by Charmadarst. Old Nel as he was called by salts in every tavern and harbor. The Grifter's Eye would let him know if this avriel intended to cheat him out of his nels. So he conducted his business with perhaps an unsettling level of confidence and trust.

"Aye, I'll do that." He said, looking over the manifest document. It was strange, reading the common tongue when only a few arcs ago he couldn't read a lick of common.

It sounded very much like a trade he could make. He only needed the manifest though, and for the goods to be signed over to his property. They could do the trade right here, if Pharan was of a mind. Time to see if the avriel could produce, and whether he intended to cheat the bearer of a Sombran mark.

"I'll of course need your signature on the manifest, and a note signing over the property of these goods to me. From there, me and whatever lads I can rustle up will haul the goods to my ship." Rorom smirked, "Don't worry about me, I trust you've delivered."

So saying, he held his coin pouch in his hand, and brought out three onyx nels, "Will these do for what you're selling? I believe the going rate for a shipment of silks to fill a sloop's hold is about two and a half onyx. The other half a gratuity for your good will. Go buy yourself some decent clothes, you'll make a better impression when you get back home."

The coins he laid down, and waited for the avriel to make his marks on the manifest. If and when he did make his notes, he would take the manifest, and be off. He had one eye on a crew to hire, and another on a big longship he'd spotted on arriving into the harbor.

[Pharan]

I

t will suffice.”

Pharan’s eyes had narrowed dangerously at the Biqaj suggestion that he should treat himself with some decent clothes once their business was settled—as if he was a beggar who thrived on other people’s generosity or a tatterdemalion vagabond who had to feel ashamed of the rags he was wearing—but the expression was short lived. All too quickly, the Avriel had his features under control once more, his frown exchanged with a noncommittal smile.

Sometimes, we have to swallow our pride, to get what we want, Pharan reminded himself, as he straightened over the front of his (admittedly well-worn) tunic.

In truth, three onyx nel was more than he had expected. It was more than Orick had suggested for him to ask as a starting offer. It was even about as much as his sister had made a year ago, with a shipment of similar size and quality, before her local contact had abandoned her for a more reliable supplier. Pharan had seen the numbers, in the ledger she had borrowed him.

“You shall have the signature and the deed of transfer—if you excuse me for a moment, I will find everything needed.”

Acquiring parchment and writing utensils on the fish market proved more of a challenge than Pharan had expected, but in the end, he managed to borrow everything he needed from a sour looking man who ran a small candle shop up the street.

Pharan signed the manifest twice, once in the column script of his people along the side of the list, then again, in Common beneath it. He penned the document that transferred ownership of the goods at the warehouse to Rorom, taking the man’s suggestions for how he wanted to have it worded and again signed it twice. He also drew up a third piece of document, more of a note than anything, lines of ink filling the parchment top to bottom.

He handed the last one to Rorom first. “If you ever find yourself in Athart in search for more work—this will let people know you are looking for me or my sister. I am sure, we can come to an agreement again, should it come to it and we always have more silk in need of shipping.

“The signed manifesto and the transfer,” he continued, and it was only then, he accepted the man’s three onyx nel. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

[Nursia]

My first time seeing an actual business transaction take place between players.

I must admit, seeing Pharan's prior post being made good on here was a nice bit of continuity, and getting those silks suddenly seem more solid of an approach than if I didn't read it. Rorom, I enjoyed the reflection on your character's culture as well, through his dialog. It's nice to see business facilitate such great roleplay!

Enjoy your rewards.
Pharan

Rewards

Knowledges:
Business Management: Drawing up a deed of transfer
Business Management: Knowing past prices helps set future ones
Business Management: It’s a good idea to stay in contact with potential trade partners
Discipline: Regaining one’s composure quickly
Investigation: Inquiring about someone’s qualifications
Negotiation: Laying out the situation at hand
Negotiation: Pointing out the advantages of a deal
Seafaring: Intricacies of the Yrithal-Rharne Route
Seafaring: Intricacies of the Athart-Sirothelle Route
Wealth:
+3
Renown:
+5
EXP:
+15

Feedback

Understand that all criticisms are done in good faith. It would be a greater disrespect to not say anything in the face of problems. Please contact me through this account's inbox if you wish to further communicate on the matter of improvement, or if you feel as though anything is unduly harsh.

Rorom

Rewards

Knowledges:
Seafaring: Intricacies of the Yrithal-Rharne Route
Seafaring: Intricacies of the Athart-Sirothelle Route
Appraisal: Guessing the price of a shipment of silks.
Cartography: Ivorian: A large island in the Crescent Sea
Cartography: Yithiral: A city of trade in Ivorian.
Navigation: Finding one's way through the streets.
Negotiation: Making a deal before the other party changes their mind.
Sombran: Grifter's Eye: Can tell if they're being straight with you, when it comes to merchandise.
Wealth:
-3
Renown:
+5
EXP:
+15

Feedback

Understand that all criticisms are done in good faith. It would be a greater disrespect to not say anything in the face of problems. Please contact me through this account's inbox if you wish to further communicate on the matter of improvement, or if you feel as though anything is unduly harsh.

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