Closed Your Mission Whether You Choose to Accept It...

[Loken]

25th Day of Spring , 516 A.V.
12th bell/Noon

There was a vaporous mood within the Cave of Wonders while Loken wandered its ragged rows of beds to better acclimate himself to his current place of employment. Although, If one were to ask what Loken thought of Azim's Cave of Wonders they would quickly question if he truly blended with the environment of the drug den. He wasn't particularly interested in the personal use of drugs. In fact, Loken believed that the use of drugs would be counter productive to his worship of the goddess of logic, Gnora. And after the monster that had attacked him upon his arrival into Nyka seasons ago, he wasn't particularly interested in being blind to thing which lurked on rooftops.

The Cultist stopped to stand at the bedside of a elderly man trapped in the euphoric delusions of addiction. He looked around the crowded yet desolate building, a building filled with bodies but only husks that lacked real higher cognitive functions remained. He glanced to the ceiling an felt a hint of agitation. He had suggested quite pointedly that Azim see to the dilapidated buildings repairs, but it was hard to argue with a man who constantly smiled back at every negative thing he said, so resisted nagging his employer any further; at least verbally. He still kept an eye out and acted on anything that proved to be to much to ignore. Mainly, that involved upping security. Keeping all the clientele docile when inside of the buildings, and collecting debts from junkies.

“Loki!,” A voice boomed through the building. Loken knew who it was immediately and turned towards Azim. "Bring brain an sword!" Loken adjusted the leather armor he wore, then drew the hook sword from its harness on his back, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge why Azim needed him to arm himself. Walking into the back room of the Cave which housed Azim's personal drug crafting supplies. “I'm here.” He turned to close the door slowly, eyeing Azim for a moment while closing the door; something in the Benshira's disheveled manner, so utterly covered in cosmetics for artifice of concealment, reminded him of when they had first met.

Azim began to speak in a rapid string of fluent shiber, and although despite Loken's understanding of Arumenic and Tawna, he just stood there as the Benshira spoke. He could not understand what the man was saying, but he did understand the intonations of a swear word being spoken. "Azim, I have no clue what you are saying. Take a breath, focus, and tell me the specifics. Now, what is wrong?"


One simple job! Was one simple job! But oh, they get me! They get me good ... Now I get them. Hard, and you help. If there was one fortunate part of this whole situation, it was that Azim could tell which way was up. He had hired Loken as a posioncrafter, but often used the Ano Cultist as an enforcer. And given the current situation, Azim felt glad for hiring the Cultist. "Bandits! They rob me!" He paused, stopping to think about what he had said. "Well, not me... Self was not there. But, the caravan! All the new specialties drug shipments, gone! Wagon of ingredients picked from the Taldera Northern Reaches ...just..just, taken! Myself needs those to make very fancy things.

Loken raised a brow that caught Azim's attention, “Caravan? How far out into the wildlands?" He waited for a moment in strained silence, awaiting his employers response. "Last news I heard from birdies, shipment vanished north, north west of city. Two days travel at best." Loken hesitated. Not knowing how to start. Not knowing how to commit to speech all the things Azim must be aware of, which lacked only official pronouncement.

"You do realize that you hired me as a poisoncrafter? I will help as best I can, but you should know the success or... possible failure... of this 'favor' should not interfere with my actual duties." Loken motioned his hand, indicating the near table with its delicately crafted chemistry equipment. The whole of the lab was delicate, unlike him. Stating the facts of his job like a true businessman. "Fine, so long as you help get problem solved! Gha! Just deal with it... if not you, than go get mercenaries, Azim will pay them well."

Loken turned away from Azim again; his voice became determined to give comfort to the other man. “Your things will be returned. I will go find capable people to help expedite the recovery process.” He stated before gathering his things and exiting the back room; closing that door behind him. He was ready to leave the Cave when the front door opened. It caused him to stop and stare at the person who entered. For a brief moment Loken stood dumbfounded, he knew the man from somewhere, but the name escaped him. Then a fraction of a second later the recollection hit him like a brick when he further examined the man's face.

"Oh, Right. The prospective Wave Guard." He nodded to himself as if he had won a slight reward for remembering him. "Despite the ever present need for vice ... what would bring a man like you to a place like this?" Beckoning the man over to him.

[Pulren Marsh]

It had been at the Sharp Tongue the night before. Pulren had been enjoying a wheat ale with a local. They had spoken a little about the Aperture and the man's own experience. It had been a terrifying ordeal with things reaching out to him over the time. When he tried to describe what he had seen, Pulren just nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, ordering him another drink. The men spoke for a while and many tales were spun until something had come about that piqued his interest. The name of a house in Nyka known as Azim's Cave of Wonders was suggested as an oasis from the temporal madness that oozed from the Aperture. In fact, it was even rumored that some of the solutions inside were made from the Aperture itself.

Perhaps it was the spin of the alcohol or the general malaise that he had been feeling of late, but Pulren had an idea cooking in the hearth of his brain that by imbibing the Aperture, he could somehow understand it better and commune with it in some fashion. Would anything join him in such an intimate fashion as he had experienced last season. Probably not. But any kind of reach back into that pit for some kind of understanding was better than a life of floating in space. So he soon found himself in this very cave, though it might be better called Flophouse of Incense. A knock at the door had solicited a very lovely young woman which made Pulren, for the moment, consider a different set of wondrous things to explore. Once it was clear that only these strange powders and tinctures would be tasted, he settled with taking in the story of Godeye and its supposed creation from Konti water and the blood of the creatures from the Aperture. He was also shown a dust that was snorted that came from scrapings from the rift itself.

Paying the young lady for each sample, he watched her sway away and he examined the small blue vial and the packet of powder. Looking around at the other denizens of the cave, he thought it best to go home probably and try them out the first time. All of a sudden, a voice came to his left and Pulren looked up, his face contorting into something between recognition and mild surprise. Snapping his fingers as if his mind might jump into action with the sound, he said, " Wait, don't tell me. Lo something. I remember you from Zeltiva. Always glad to see another Zeltivan." He couldn't think of his name, so he moved on to answering the question.

"I came looking for things to get me better acquainted with the Aperture. I spent some time in it and came out a changed man. Need to make that connection again. What brings you here?"

[Loken]

For a brief moment, there was something in Loken’s expression that was oddly impressed. Oddly curious. His black eyes fixed on Pulren, pinpoints of ebony fire. “You were almost correct in remembering that my name is Loken. Out of civility, he allowed a slight smile to form on his lips. "And while I have been to Zeltiva, I was born a son of..." He paused for a moment, remembering that he was raised an orphan in Sunberth who never knew his true parents or birthplace. "...Sunberth." he replied coolly, “and to answer your question, I work here. Although not as a keeper, so if you wish to buy a vice. Azim will be able to help you find what you seek.”

It was then that an idea came to mind. He was going out to look for capable fighters when one had stumbled upon him. By the grace of the gods, Loken tried to factor this new variable into all his equations. He absently watched how Pulren moved. Watching his hands or eyes for any sign of addiction. He did not want a drug addict too help him in his future ventures.

He had worked for Azim long enough to spot the tell tale signs drug abuse. "You have been within the Aperture? Having known some idea of what lurks in it's shadow. It would seem that the Wave Guard has turned you into a capable warrior? But given that you are now here, I take it that you have a new calling in life? "

[Pulren Marsh]

A stoic glare, though not completely unfriendly. The stone face of this Loken reminded Pulren of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He decided to chew it over in his head while he carried on with this one, see if he could come up with some more clues, possibly. While it felt a little sad in Pulren's bosom that Loken wasn't from Zeltiva, he perked right back up with the mention of Sunberth. "Ah, the city of anarchy. I know it well. It's my favorite place to take a vacation." All that madness, killing and shyke just made it too good to pass up. Get away from it all.

Nodding to the idea that Loken worked there, he grinned, glad that he had received one of Azim's daughters rather than the man himself. Fingering the items he had purchased, he responded," I did buy a couple of things. Drugs aren't what I do, but I just thought they might help me find what I seek. I think I can handle it. Drank all of that kelp beer in Zeltiva and never became a drunk, after all." He toasted the man with an imaginary mug of the stinky brew. When talk came of the Aperture, his smile faded and his eyes darkened some. "I've been deep within the Aperture, yes. Seen something far beyond the Aperture. Somewhere else, some dark space where strange creatures dwell. Stranger than anything I've ever seen here." He paused a moment, taking in a mental inventory.

"Well, on the same level as some things. It's funny that you mention the Wave Guard, though. It's been a long time since I was one of their number. I actually joined the Zeltivan Martial Society. It is an old mercenary band. Since I have moved from there, however, I am operating on my own orders. A selltrident, I guess." He didn't explain why he didn't say sellsword. It was evident enough to Pulren. "My calling remains the same, mostly. Worship Laviku, explore the world and its secrets, fight incredible creatures and have a great time and make money at it."

[Loken]

Loken nodded his head as Pulren spoke; although Loken's own gaze seemed to linger more on the people around than on Pulren himself, there was no real purpose behind the direction of his gaze. He had no interest in what it was that those people had been doing. His diverted gaze was more to focus on what the other man was saying, listening to every word with rapt consideration.

When Pulren finished addressing him, his gaze finally wandered over to the sell-trident and Loken canted his head to one side by the faintest of increments. "Pulren Marsh," he mused in response in an almost wholly flat tone while he regarded the other man. He gave a brief, almost indiscernible nod on response to the man's previous comments and he took one step closer towards him.

He lowered the volume of his voice enough so that only Pulren could hear him. "Azim has tasked me to find a mercenary to help rectify a problem. And while I do truly wish to hear the stories of your exploits within the Aperture, I have priorities." Loken rested a hand against the pouch on his belt that held his shuriken within, not actually taking anything out.

"Bandits have absconded with a wagon shipment belonging to Azim. The caravan with his wagon was last seen north, north-west of city. Roughly two days travel from here. The wagon was filled with ingredients needed to craft special drugs. And I highly doubt that simple bandits would have the knowledge to use his supplies. No matter the reason, they need to be returned. This can be your mission, whether you choose to accept It."

[Pulren Marsh]

When Loken repeated his name back to him, it was as if he was reading it from a ledger. the tone was flat and even, like he was verifying to the Zeltivan what he had just said. whatever he had said to the serious man, it had made some kind of sense as he stepped closer to Pulren, lowering his voice in a way that only offers came. Pulren's listening ears went on for the pitch. A mercenary was needed and here he was, answering the call without even knowing it. The whole scene made Pulren grin uncontrollably. Here he had come for some kind of false vision when it was made clear that his appearance had been no coincidence at all. His presence was required and something inside of him had him show up before he even knew why. The Gods were at work, surely.

The nodding of understanding came as the whole thing was laid out before him. Bandits had stolen a wagon shipment of potent and valuable ingredients for Azim. No doubt the bandits were either addicts for the substances or they were savvy sellers. Either way they were unlikely to just give back the goods with a please and thank you. that is why force was required. Pulren felt honored to take on such an adventure and already put his mind to the details. Two days travel probably meant horses, which wasn't wonderful. Maybe they could take their own wagon to haul the stuff back? It was worth a try. The idea of bumping around on a horse when there was work to be done made his stomach a little queasy.

It also sounded like a two man job at the minimum, though three to five sounded best. "Do you have any other people in mind? How about yourself? You seem like you can probably handle yourself well enough in the face of danger. You serious types are good for that, right?" He chuckled, though he felt like he was in the presence of icy Keene again. "I absolutely accept. It sounds profitable enough. Any word on the pay? I would imagine that returning highly sought and rare ingredients by a wagon load would fetch a pretty copper, don't you think? Bringing yourself would surely cut down on a share that would be wasted on lesser men, if you gather my meaning." Looking at the small vials he had considered and scoffing at them as they were returned to one of the lovely spawn of Azim, he looked back at his stone faced companion. "Otherwise, I absolutely accept."