An Eye For All Things Pretty

by **Tove** on August 24th, 2018, 8:56 pm

83rd Day of summer, 518 AV
36 chimes after the 12th Bell

“Yeh got the coin, I got the wares. A win-win if I do say so myself.” The voice is deep, words mispronounced due to a lack of proper education. That was a common theme in Sunberth, one of the many that painted the city in a negative light. Tove listened into the conversation as she allowed her legs to swing back and forth.

Many shop owners and locals alike had begun to prepare for the season change. Fall would bring cooler weather, which then would become freezing once winter approached. Some of the richer types would be cooped up in a dimly lit room covered in fur blankets as the fire cracked in the background, but sadly that would be the minority.

Late summer brought cool showers but the air remained sticky and almost unbreathable. Unpaved roads had transformed into a stiff river of dried mud, occasionally catching some unlucky cart.

Tove raised a brow as the sound that resembled metal clinking against metal made its way to her ears. She turned to face the merchant she had accompanied as she allowed her gaze to drop to his hands as he counted out his coin before dropping it into his pocket.

“Aye little lady, you keep eyin’ my coin like that I might just think your sizing me up.” He chucked as he made his way to her side. “Yeh find what you’re lookin’ for? You’ve been lookin’ at that booth the whole time we’ve been stopped.” He allowed his eyes to cut towards the particularly expensive jewelry booth. The seaside market was rather busy as locals stocked up on essentials whilst unlucky tourists scanned over the many over-priced items.

“Not looking at the booth, I’m looking at the shoppers.” One shopper in particular, one she had been sent off to observe, “Tell me, what do you know of that fat fellow?” He stood out, brightly colored fabrics embroider beautifully, and the many jewels upon his fingers glistened in the sunlight.

“Him?” The merchant unwrapped his lunch as he spoke, his eyes locked on the man as well, “If I remember correctly that is Chubs, a slaver I think.” He paused for a moment to take a large bite into the apple that had been previously hidden within his pack. “Nasty bugger but he does have an eye for all things pretty.”

Tove responded with a mere nod, her eyes still locked upon ‘Chubs’. A silly name, one that spoke of his weight for sure. Tove hated few things, but Slavers were not her favorite lot for obvious reasons. He carried himself like a pig in heels only with less class. He DID have an eye for pretty things though, his fingers and collar decorated with elaborate jewels and precious metals.

Word-count: 476/2500

by **Tove** on August 25th, 2018, 9:11 pm

“Hmm, what's a pretty little lady such as yourself-” The merchant spoke with a mouthful of apple, stray juice and pieces having made a home within the coarse black hairs that made up his beard. “Watchin’ somebody like him for? Can’t be due to the fella's looks, unless you like men twice your age with more fat than bone...in which case maybe though I doubt that's the case.” The Merchant smiled, the skin of the apple having wedged itself between his crooked front teeth.

“No reason! He just...stands out is all. It's not often you see such a hefty fellow dressed in expensive garments in Sunberth, no?” A lie. Tove wanted- no needed- dirt on Chubs. Her eyes shifted away from the slaver as he lifted a gold earring to his cartilage, which appeared to be rather small when compared to the rest of his body. She had hoped the friendly merchant would have more to say about the slaver, something she could use to better her reports. “Do you- ugh- know anything else about him? Is he the type to watch out for or just another schemer with two mizas to rub together? You must know something seeing that you knew his name and all, he clearly isn't just your friendly neighborhood slaver.”

“Don’t know much about the fella to be completely honest with ya, I tend to stay away from those slave types. Heard that he has good taste in food, clothes, and whores...but that's about it. He's damn rich too, guess a life has a hefty price on it, seein' that he is a slaver and all that.” The merchant answered, his eyes having shifted between Tove and Chubs as he spoke. To say Tove was disappointed with the lack information would be an understatement and it seemed the merchant had caught on to that because he continued to speak. “His name ain’t Chubs that I know. It’s somethin’ with a ‘T’ if my memory hasn't gone to shyke like the rest of my senses.”

Tryannus A name Tove had been sure to engrave into her mind after her meeting with her employer, along with the many others that had been named off. Goldfinger had a way of making his voice elegant and kind, yet threatening all at once and Tove hadn't wished to speak to him any longer than she had to. That night she swore to herself she would never forget the names given to her, which in turn resulted in many hours of constant repetition as she listed off the names in the order they had been given to her.

Donovan, Tyrannus, and Natlana…

Tove hadn’t the slightest idea of what her employer planned to doing with whatever information she could report back to him, just that he wanted it. It was hardly any of her business anyway, she just needed Goldfinger’s coin, not his plans.

“Hmm…I think Chubs suits him pretty well. It's also easy to remember which is a plus in my book.” Despite having agreed that the name suited him quite well, she would not repeat the silly nickname in her reports back to Goldfinger. Professionalism was key and Tove lacked just that, best to not add onto the list of reasons to be put on Goldfinger's bad list if she hadn't already been added onto it.

“Reckon you’re right 'bout that, nicknames are given for a reason after all.” The merchant responded as he pushed himself up and off his seat upon the cart. “Well, sorry to tell ya little lady, but my lunch break is over, best to get movin’ before it rains or somethin’ like that. You know how it is.” The merchant jutted his thumb forward as he motioned her to remove herself from his cart.

Tove let out sigh as her boots hit the ground, her eyes having rolled lazily as he rushed her. She would not only be forced to stand upon his departure, but she would also be forced to stand alone in a packed out market whilst she spied upon the unsuspecting Slaver. She made her displeasure known to the merchant as she pouted, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him gather up his things. He cared little of course, a small grin sprawled across his features as his eyes glanced over to her.

“Nice meetin’ ya girly, try not to get yourself killed...and stay away from that big fella if y'know what's best for ya.” The man waved as he pulled his cart further along the ocean of elaborate stalls that lined his path. Tove watched as the man disappeared into the crowed, never to be seen again. That was how it often went. Tove would meet a friendly face, their conversation would end, and they would disappear for good…or at least for several seasons.

Word-count: 806
Total: 1282/2500

by **Tove** on August 29th, 2018, 3:48 pm

Boredom- It was a dangerous thing. One of two things that had always left Tove neck deep in trouble, the other being curiosity. The two together were a recipe for disaster in Tove’s experience. It had been only five-chimes now since Tove's friendly merchant companion had left her in a wave of tourists and locals. Five-chimes of looking at a fat slaver as he inspected jewels and silks alike. Five-chimes that could be have been spent doing something somewhat interesting, maybe then time would move faster.

Tove had found herself a place to sit atop a rather uncomfortable hay bale, thick strands having occasionally jabbed painfully into her flesh. She was just close enough to hear the conversation between Chubs and his guards. Occasionally they would even speak to the merchant who had been previously mocked by the large fellow. The only thing Tove had found even remotely interesting about the banter was the sheer amount of crude and
mispronounced words that could be used in one sentence...Which is saying a lot since she did reside in Sunberth. Tove had heard a lot, as a slave and since, but never had she heard such horrible remarks of the opposite sex.

“Oi, do ya think this’d look nice with some silks? I think it makes my eyes pop, no?” Goldfinger presented his guard with what appeared to be an onyx earring, shiny gems having caught the light.

A fashion connoisseur then? Or maybe just a desperate man.

It took little to no time for the guard to respond. A grimace had cut his features in half upon hearing Chubs’ question. He would be a fool to admit the truth, that the earring hardly looked nice on the man. It drew attention to the fact that his ear had remained small despite the weight his body endured.
“Y-yeah boss…looks real nice on ya.” The young man stumbled upon his words, nervousness laced around each pause his mind had forced him to take. Chubs stared back with a raised brow, the earring still dangling from in-between his thumb and index finger. He looked the guard up and down, the air tense enough to cut with a butter-knife.

“Hmm…ya ain’t lyin are ya?” The Slaver growled as the guard coward back in fear.

“No sir! It looks-erm-great! Very…dashin’…” The poor guard’s compliments were overshadowed by boisterous laughter. Chubs gripped his stomach as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
“Calm ‘yer tits, I’m just messin’ with ya boy. Now- shut ‘yer trap before ya annoy me with yer jabberin’” Then, just as nothing had happened, Chubs continued to shop.

14-chimes after the 13th Bell

“Here ya go, you can use the gold to…buy yourself a nice pair of legs to keep ya warm ‘fer the night…” Chub’s clasped the scrawny merchant’s shoulder as he dropped the coin within his sweaty palms, a strange grin spread across his features as he watched the merchant’s eyes widen as Chubs paid for his wares. It was a lot of coin, especially since he had purchased a necklace. Pretty, silver mixed along a gold chain, a raven connecting the clasp and the chain. It was pretty, but useless in the grand scheme of things. Just an item purchased to boost the ego of the owner.

"I- thank ya sir…I appreciate the business!" Tove watched as the merchant’s eyes brightened with each coin Chubs dropped into his palm, his lips agape as he counted. The merchant’s eyes then dropped to his pocket, his fist white as he shoved the coin in. He was cautious, a good sign he could somewhat handle his coin. Tove wondered what he would spend the coin on though she had little time to ponder as Chubs had already begun to walk towards ‘No Man’s Land’, in the hours spent at the market even Tove had worked herself up an appetite.

Tove stayed away for a good chime or so before she followed Golfinger into the Tavern. From what she had noticed, he and his guards had not yet suspected her of spying and she would prefer to keep it that way. Even in the tavern she hid herself from their direct field of view, her back facing them rather than her face.

“What was we talkin’ about again? Ah, yes, the wench from this mornin’ no?” Chubs spoke with a mouthful of chicken, bits and pieces having spread about as continued on with his conversation. He cherished each bite as if it were his last, holding the well-cooked food within his mouth for a moment too long. For every one bite he took, three chugs of the most expensive beverage in the menu followed close behind. His lips smacked as he chewed, random grunts having escaped him as he continued. “Ain’t nothing but another pair of legs and tits but she came with a hefty price…best not to let that go to waste right?” He spoke less so to communicate but to brag of his mastery in the business of exchanging life for a pretty Miza. The guard who made his seat across from Chubs nodded and agreed to every word that came out of Chubs food-filled mouth. Had he paid the poor sob to laugh at his jokes as well? Tove knew little of what made a man skilled in simple conversation thus she had little idea as to why any man or woman would put up with a man such as Chubs. Coin was her only suspect…

Once again, Tove found herself bored with Chub’s day to day routine and his dull conversations. They gave away the obvious. He was a nasty slaver with an eye for pretty things and food, a business man too. He hardly seemed to be bright. In fact Tove wondered how the man had managed to count his coin by himself but she was sure Goldfinger knew. He was hardly doing anything of interest. Tove had hoped to learn more of the Vino or the Quay but Chubs hadn't even mentioned either of the two. A bunch of slavers in one group was hardly Tove's idea of a good time- in fact- she would much rather be spying on someone less...slaver-like. Sadly there was only one name on Goldfinger's list of people to watch that had little to do with slavery, or at least seemed as though she hadn't. It was difficult to tell in Sunberth.

The day had continued on slowly, the sound of laughter and music having intensified as the night wrapped its fingers around Sunberth. The barmaids trotted in every chime or so with a new tray at hand, Chubs having treated himself like a king amongst peasants. Beautiful women surrounded him like Parchment moths to flame. Chubs seemed to enjoy the attention, his arms wrapped around as many as he could fit, those who could not having made their home upon his lap. Tove had grown weary of the Slaver’s boastful nature even when there was little to boast about.

Tove figured it would be best to leave before Chubs decided it was time to go home. She was dedicated to her job but lacked the bravery that she would need if she were to visit Slavers Row. It scared her to no end. The idea of being chained up and sold had often left Tove in a state of pure panic. Goldfinger would hardly care of her personal dilemmas, she knew she would soon have to face her worst nightmare in the form of chains wrapped around a living being with the intention of selling them off. One last glance towards Chubs sent a chill down her spine. It only took one look, their eyes had met as she exited the building, a shyke-eating grin still etched across his face as women purred sweet nothings into his too-small ear. Luckily escape was just a step away. The cool air wrapping around her as she exited the Tavern. Her legs carried her as fast as she could make them, the memory of Chubs grin evilly lodged into her mind. In Tove’s opinion it was a job completed.. She hoped Goldfinger would feel the same.

Word-count: 1,360
Total-2,642