Closed [The Obsidian Club] Money Problems

[Bennar Witt]

1 Fall, 515 A.V.
The Obsidian Club
Benji was nervous. He didn’t talk much to Deniss, and definitely not like he was about to. But there was no use beating around the bush as they say. He would just have to go up and ask him outright. Benji cleared his throat and finished his Summer Solstice in one burning slide down the throat. He set his glass carefully on the countertop. This was going to be an interesting conversation. Deniss already knew Benji was planning on quitting to open his own business. It had been an idea he had floated to his bosses over the past couple weeks in the hopes of some positive feedback. It was an ill-founded hope. They were all rubbed a little wrong by the idea of an employee quitting and asking their advice on his business. And Deniss was the most irritated from the looks he occasionally shot at Benji.

The bar was pretty deserted on this Autumn afternoon. It was between the early morning regulars and the early evening party groups. The bartenders were spending most of their time polishing everything to a respectable gleam. Naia was standing in front of the stage, coaching a pair of musicians on the types of music she expected from them that night. Naia was always very particular about her tunes. Two patrons sat together at one end of the bar. A few smiths who specialized in farming equipment. Their humble smithy was down the road and these two were the last stubborn remnants of the day’s regulars. Soon they too would lumber off to sleep and there would be a few hours of nothing before the big night-time rush.

The founder and owner of the Obsidian Club sat at the bar in the corner rubbing his head and talking to Rynas, who was working the counter. Rynas glanced up when Benji approached and slid his way down the bar to give them some space. There was a duo of musicians playing a slow tune that was meant to relax the patrons, it was not working on Benji. Naia seemed pleased though, her objections had temporarily stopped.

Deniss’s beard was well groomed and his hair eyebrows were furrowed, hanging low over dark eyes. His hair was slicked back and he lazily twirled a glass of water in one hand. Benji had never known much about the man, save that he was rarely seen in the bar. That was probably due to his adamant lack of interest in most of the activities that go on in bars, like drinking, dancing, or smiling. But he was a decent boss, always had money to pay Benji at least. That’s what really counts.

“Hey boss. I was hoping I could talk to you.” Gods, this was excruciating! Benji thought to himself as Deniss glanced up at him. Deniss set his glass down and turned in his stool, leaning back against the dark painted wall.

“What do you need Benji?” Deniss asked, his tone neutral. As always.

“I need some money. A loan.”

[Neologism]

"Imbeciles. You would think they would be more careful. It isn't their lacey..." A pair of intimidating brown eyes turned towards Bennar as he approached, the previous conversation cutting off. From afar it seemed casual, but upon approaching it was very quickly apperant that something was tense in the converstation.

A curt and cruel chuckle eminated from Deniss' beared mouth as soon as Bennar had finished his sentence. "You quit my establishment, forcing my to find someone else to do the drinks, and you want even more money from me? What I pay you isn't enough boy?" The ellusive man settled his cold brown eyes of the other man. He let a few ticks go by before turning back to his glass, with a quick chug, he pulled the rest of the water down quick.

"Sure, I'll give you a loan." The man stood, carefully placing his glass on the counter and turning back towards the stairs leading up to his office. He didn't need to speak to show that Bennar was meant to follow him.

Once up the stairs, Deniss lounged on the couch in the small office. It was no spectacular office, small and quaint. However it was very apperant in what the room was made out of that Deniss didn't often find issue with his ledger. Teh large skyglass window was tinted, a unique use of the space glass that the Akka could only rarely put to use. His desk was a rich wood of the Kalean forests that Lhavit couldn't reach to reap the benefits of. And the bookshelf was filled to the brim. However small and comfortable, it was clear there was no expense shared.

"So. Bennar, you've worked here a while." Deniss motioned towards the simple wooden chair that sat in the corner of hte room, a stack of unravelled scrolls laying atop it. "I suppose you and I don't speak much do we. How are you?" The start of the casual conversatoin might've been a play, but after a few ticks, Deniss leveled his eyes on Bennar once more, and the man knew his employer wanted an answer.

[Bennar Witt]

The acid of Deniss’ last words to Rynas seemed to hangin the air between them, almost as though the bar owner meant for the vehemence to linger on Benji. Or perhaps it was the malevolent gleam in his eyes. Either way Benji wasn’t much liking it now that he had time to register all the less than subtle cues Deniss was giving off. His laugh and his words stung. Benji seriously doubted Deniss would have much trouble replacing him. But Deniss seemed the type of man who noticed every little slight and held grudges.

After an uncomfortable silence in which Benji struggled to find out how to respond to Deniss’ accusation the bossman stood. “Sure, I’ll give you a loan.” And set off towards the stairs across the dance floor. The moment of ease that came with his words was trampled by the stampeding fear that came with that office. Benji had never been in there. He knew there was something going on back there, he had worked here for a while after all. But what it was was a mystery. If Deniss had anything to do with it, he wasn’t sure he wanted any part in it.

Benji groaned and hurried after Deniss. He needed the loan. The room above was not what Benji expected. As Deniss slid onto the couch and made himself at home Benji surreptitiously inspected the room around him. The casual wealth in this room alone would not come from one third the share of the Club. Deniss, at least, was involved in something more. Benji had the sinking feeling that he had just been thrust into Deniss’ world by coming into this office.

Benji’s attention was yanked from the skyglass window when Deniss began to speak again. “So. Bennar, you’ve worked here a while.” Deniss was the only one who ever called him Bennar. Both Naia and Rynas had opted to use his nickname. Bennar, they said, was too formal for the floor. In Deniss’ mouth it sounded like a judgement. “I suppose you and I don’t speak much do we. How are you?”

“I, uh.” The question was simple and the answer should have been as well. But Deniss was looking at him with such a serious glare, and benji was by no means in his element. “I’m fine. I just really want to get this business set up.” He finally said.

His curiosity got the better of him. Benji glanced about the room, looking for clues as to what it was that Deniss did behind the scenes. Benji was relatively sure Rynas or Naia was also involved. They seemed so much more equipped for the bar life. But they couldn’t be ignorant of what Deniss was doing, whatever that was.

“I feel that-” Oh gods, what am I doing? “Perhaps there are some strings attached to this loan.” Gah. There he went, poking the bear. “I mean other than the usual.” Surely this idiocy only lead to painful death by fist. Maybe Deniss would change his mind and think Hey, this guy isn’t my guy, I’ll just kill him. Benji was prone to saying dumb things when thrust into high stress situations. It was a vice. It was already done now, and the only thing to do was ride it out. “I mean I have worked here a while. I’m not stupid.” Last statement debatable.

The tension of the moment made Benji reel on the inside. The silence was heavy between them. Both men seemed to be calculating. Benji, for his part, was hoping this wasn’t one of the last moments of his life. Deniss’ office was nice, but it wasn’t where he wanted to spend his last minutes in the world. Benji wouldn’t have been able to tell if that moment lasted a tick or a bell.

[Neologism]

Deniss grinned. "Well if you thought there were strings attached, you would be right. Not even in Lhavit do we give away free money." Bennar's employeer straightened himself, sitting up to properly talk to the man before him. Thoughtfully, he brushed his fingers across his carefull groomed bear once more. "The only question that, unfortunately, remains is... how willing are you?"

Deniss stood, strolling over to his shelf, where he brushed calloused fingers over the worn spines, stopping on a mute green. A book, that lined against the other journals and notes, would not have stood out in the least. It didn't even have words on the outside to notify the looker what was in it's contents. He turned to Bennar. "Or rather, how sneaky are you?"

Deniss held the book up as if to toss it at Bennar before rethinking and carefully handing him the worn green leather. "What I'm asking you do to is not actually... illegal. It's only that some prefer not to... be associated with it." Deniss would not object if Bennar opened the bland book as he talked, strolling back to his desk. But Bennar would find nothing in the blank pages but a gaping hole, meant to hide contents inside. "Unfortunately for businesses like mine, one of those people who don't want to associate themselves with the leisurely activities of the city, holds a very powerful position." Deniss opened a drawer to his desk, removing a heavy looking small coffer. "Things are changing with our leaders, so it is important," Deniss emphasized the word, firmly placing a box down on his desk with a resonating thud. "That we keep low for these coming seasons."

"You're task is simple. You go to the Makuhla Tea House, leave a note. And then make your way over to the Springwater square and... deliver another... message." He offered a sly smile before turning back to the coffer, unlocking the intimidating metal and slipping out a thin vial. He held it up to the light, where Bennar, if he squinted, would be able to see a thin lining of tablets stacked within the glass. He held it out to Bennar, eyebrows perking up. "Think it's worth it?"

[Bennar Witt]

Ben listened without comment as Deniss spoke. The man exuded a nonchalant intimidation that seemed a deeper layer than his physical aura of danger. Deniss was one of those men you looked at and avoided at all costs. He just didn’t seem like it at first glance. It was too bad Ben was knee deep in their business already, or else he would have just left.

And then been killed, probably.

Ben glanced at the book that Deniss had placed in his hands. He opened it and stared down at it. He had been hoping it would shed some light on this mysterious task, but it held nothing but an inky circle. No, no it wasn’t ink, it was magic. Ben stared at it, and turned the book in his hands. The hole that seemed to defy reality did not move from the page of suck him in. What manner of magic is this?! Ben’s thoughts raced as he struggled to tear his attention from the book and back to Deniss’s words.

He was talking about politics. An person who was clearly an enemy of his, whether they knew it or not, and was also influential in Lhavitian politics seemed to be worrying Deniss. He urged discretion and the need to lay low. That was probably why this job was being offered to Ben in the first place. Perhaps Deniss and the others were being watched too carefully to carry out their own nefarious plans. They needed a middle man, or a scapegoat. What a manipulative petcher Deniss was.

Ben nervously closed the book in his hands and tucked it carefully under his arm. The arm did not get sucked into an alternate dimension, so at least there was that. Ben was still trying to come to terms with the moral implications of going against a powerful Lhavitian official when Deniss drew the thin vial from his reinforced coffer. This was clearly the the ‘not actually illegal’ part of the task. Some sort of drugs. He had to deliver drugs under the nose of the Shinya. Oh gods, I’m a fool.

Ben liked to think he was a good man. He liked to think he disdained criminal activity and maintained a nice, neat control over his moral high ground. There was almost no doubt that this would create a metaphorical mudslide on that high ground. If he did this he would irreversibly put himself in the class of criminals which he so disdained. But was he really better than all this? Was Ben willing to give up the loan, his business, and his future of independence and respect over an ideal? An ideal that could not keep him warm in the winter nights, an ideal that could not stave off hunger. An ideal that would mean little in the wider world if he meant little.

On the other hand was he willing to sacrifice his morals for this? Whatever this was. Ben rubbed his hand absently along the spine of the book, a bit rougher than he would have normally. Truth be told, he hadn’t held many books, and he rather liked the feel of it. An image of his father shaking the hand of a very wealthy parchment maker surfaced in his mind’s eye. The man had been a very respected merchant and businessman and Ben’s father had been his first choice in transporting his goods across Kalea. Respect. It was the ultimate currency. Respect and fulfillment. He had been brought along on that trip to assist with the loading and unloading of his father’s cart. Both his brothers had stood silently by his side. He hadn’t really been needed, but Ben thought he had been there to give the impression that his father was waited on hand and foot by his people. Appearances were everything to that man. To many men.

Ben reached out and took the vial from his hands.

I will be a man of consequence. Ben let his light blue eyes settle on the contents of the vial, frown lines appearing between his eyebrows. He told himself that this was not illegal, and he would more than make up for any misgivings when he was more established in the city. Truthfully, the moment his finger slid around the vial he felt that old familiar flare of excitement. He was a part of something secret, a trick or lie or hoodwink. That had always wrestled some pleasure out of the darkest parts of his mind. He had learned to be invisible with his parents. The result of a negligent parentship and a more than active mind, a trickster and a secret keeper.

A liar.

“I can be what you need, Deniss. I can be a sneak, and I can certainly be a messenger. But I need more information before I determine if it’s worth it.” Ben set the vial carefully down on the desk and placed the book next to it. He tucked his thumbs into his belt because he didn’t want his hands to be seen shaking. Leveling his gaze at the burly mage he hoped he didn’t look too out of place.

“The most important question is how much am I getting paid?” He thought paid suddenly fit much better than ‘lent’. Especially if some ominous greater political power could possibly come into play. Not only was the danger a factor, but the lasting tie to Deniss and the Club could be bad for him. For both of them really.

[Neologism]

"Straight to the point! Good boy." Deniss boomed, snatching the vial from his desk and flipping the book open nonchalandly. A low tune whistled from his lips as he sought the first page. He uncorked the top of the vial, pouring three tablets into his hand. As soon as the tablets hit his skin, they began to glow and Deniss quickly dropped one onto the open page, in the center of the book. With a small spark, the tablet disapeared. The gaping hold turning into a small dot on the page. With skilled fingers, he flipped the page and repeated the process twice more, so that the first three pages of the book had a dot instead of a hole. The cheerful whistling stopped.

"Do be careful, I want my book back in good shape." He muttered, slamming the green bind closed with a force that greatly contradicted his care for it. "What you need to know is that when you get to the Tea House, you will sit down and order a cold cup of berry tea. If the server doesn't know what you are talking about, tell him Hiro will know." He paused, sliding the book towards Bennar once more. "You will take the Kina before you so much as think about the book. When you have it, you will tear a single sheet from the book. One. Sheet." He leveled his gaze on Bennar, not needing much more to get the point across. "She is going to try to get you to give her more, but you will only give her one."

He sighed, straightening up to close the coffer. In the silence the gently thuds and clanks of the lock against the wood as he placed it back in a drawer he could not see were like screams in the night.

"Its rest hour, so naturally you'll be a bit suspicious." He glanced at Bennar, circling back around to return to lounging on his couch. "Don't worry about the Shinya, they don't care about us just yet. If you see one of the Constellations, more specifically the Tenya, try not to sweat. If they show up at the Tea House, order yourself a tea and wait them out. Don't conclude the transaction if a Constellation is there." He leaned back onto the couch, reaching over to the table beside it ad picking up a book. He flipped through the pages until it landed open on his bookmark.

"Do the same at the springwater square. You'll see a man, who is probably drunk and hiding in the shadows, and he's gonna ask you for a map. He'll be asking everyone for a map, actually. Rip him out two sheets, but only give him one, hold on to the second." Deniss looked at Bennar. Another sly smile peaking out between his whiskers, posing the book infront of him as if he was prepared to read it. "You might like Jero, he's a character, and easily bribed. He's good on his word and will pay you for the first, but if you taunt him with the second, he'll pay you for that too." Deniss shrugged, brown eyes flitting to the book as if he was done with the conversation, while clearly still talking.

"Two transactions, that's not an issue for you Benny?" Deniss asked, eyes returning back to his from the book. He looked at the man before him for a second, mouth almost open as if to speak, but no other movements to speak appeared. "I suppose if you get it done before the end of the rest hour, your... payment," Brown eyes concentrated on Bennar as Deniss decided he agreed that this agreement was no longer a loan. "Might multiply." He shrugged again, returning to his book. Enjoying the power of the boy, Deniss raised his hand in the air slightly to wave towards the door. "Starting now, you got a hundred-fifty."