The Spot

[Lessomm]

Winter, 2nd, Year 513 Lessomm pushed the door open and entered the Spot. It had been a long time since he had been here. Last time he had been without work and desperate for money in order to eat and keep the roof above his head. Things were completely different now. He was well employed and well looked after and it showed in both his appearance and his presence. He was proud and he belonged here. The young Eypharian was here with a purpose and he walked straight for his goal. Under his clothes, four of his six arms were pressed against his body, hidden under his butler outfit. A long black swallowtail coat and pants covered most of his body, only the white of his shirt and the pristine white gloves were visible from underneath it all, creating a strong contrast with the rest of the outfit. His hair, tied back neatly into a ponytail, blended in with the black of his outfit. The uniqueness of his clothes drew enough attention so that the somewhat odd shape of his body, created by the hidden arms, went mostly unnoticed. The job board stood in the same place as it always had and Lessomm ran his fingers over the tier 1 job request, skimming the titles, looking for a specific one. When he found it, he unpinned it from the board and walked over to the bar. "It's not evil." His master had said. "You only see it as such because you want to." Lessomm had had some trouble understanding his master's point of view. "There are two ways this could go, Lessomm. We take the job and do some minor material damage or...!" His master had stopped here for a moment, lifting a single finger to stress his point. "Someone else will go in and instead of destroying the man's wares they will break his arms, legs, nose and a few ribs. Not because the job requests it but because they -like- to do so." It had been the first time Lessomm had discussed, even argued, something so strongly with his master. He hadn't been able to grasp how it was not evil to go and destroy something belonging to someone else. His master had spent at least a full bell trying to explain it. By the end, however, Lessomm had agreed to accept the job. Not because he agreed with his master's point of view but because he understood that other people might take the job and finish it in a different manner. By doing it Miro's way, they would save the man from such a fate. He placed the request on the bar, upside down so the bartender could read it. Rival Removal, the title said. It wasn't right, doing something like this. But it would be even more wrong to do nothing and leave it in the hands of someone worse. As his master had said pointed out, the lesser evil was the better evil. "My master would like to take on this job." Chances of the man knowing Lessomm's master without him providing the information were going to be zero so, in order to avoid wasting more time, Lessomm added the information himself. "My master's name is Miro. He's worked for you before." He wasn't sure if that was the case but Miro had been here before and Lessomm seemed to remember him talking with the bartender who had been working here two seasons ago. He couldn't remember if it was the same one.

[Abstract]

Lessomm

Bohir glanced up, eyeing Lessomm for a moment. "Miro?" he asked, before frowning. "Sounds familiar. I'll just look up the job..." He flipped through his book, before landing on the page.

"Right... Miro.." He scribbled down the Nuit's name beside the job, before looking back up at Lessomm. "Alright. Here are the details..." He removed a slip of paper from the book and passed to to the Eypharian, then carefully closed his book.

Job :

Come up with the details as you like! The merchant's name/occupation is mentioned on the paper. You just need to attempt to ruin his business however you wish

[Inoadar]

32nd day of Winter, 513

Inoadar nodded to a few of the patrons of The Spot as he waltzed in. He was surprised to see a smile on Alice's face as she passed by a few tables away. 'It's got to be faked,' he figured. 'She probably wants to stick a knife in my back and is trying to put me off my guard.' He and Valerius had interrogated her not far from this very "spot", he recalled with a chuckle at the play on words. It must have been a good sixty-seventy days ago now, but he doubted she would forget it.

It crossed his mind that it my well be some sort of weird mental "victim syndrome". The tact of impressing upon her that she would be saving her family from scandal and ruin by confessing to Val and himself DID have a fair degree of truth to it. Perhaps she had truly embraced that as some kind of emotional defense against the underlying thought that she had betrayed her family. Well, they had promised not to tell, and so far they hadn't. The possibility of blackmailing her with THAT detail could be useful in days to come.

For now though, he was here to check the job board for new diversions. He saw several promising options. "Affair Breaker", "Evidence Disposal", "Last Meal", "Rival Removal". All pretty clear cut, by the titles given. He wondered how often the targets of these jobs found their way in here and had no clue that their fates were up for sale. He smirked with the memory that he himself had once been such a target. He wondered if Amolina had taken any jobs here since then.

He looked again for something about "Kneecapper", but it looked to have been taken. He shrugged. That wasn't really his style anyway, though he suspected it could be handled a number of ways. But then, that was true of all of them. As he gauged his options, an angle began to develop in his mind. Something useful to put the new facility on the map, spread a little city-wide anxiety at the same time. Rhysol would be pleased. He put back everything but the "Affair Breaker" card and strolled up to the bar.

Bohir gave him a somewhat cold greeting. "Thought you might not be back here, Parnell." he growled. Inoadar suspected that he knew about them putting his waitress to the question. "Well, no real harm done, I guess. The day there IS,though..." the big man left the threat unfinished.

Inoadar nodded, "Fair warning, then." he acknowledged. "I was interested in the details on this." he slid the 'Affair Breaker' card across the bar to him.

[Abstract]

Inodar

Bohir looked through his book for several moments, avoiding eye contact with Inodar. He found the page and the job request, and removed a slip of paper from it. He shoved it in front of the poison-maker ungracefully, before jotting the man’s name down with a quill.

”Done” he grumbled, before stubbornly turning away from Inodar, and starting a quick and friendly chat with another man.

The Job :

Basically some guy is having an affair with a slave of his… wife is NOT pleased. She wants the slave disposed of ASAP, however you like… WITHOUT the blame on her. Have fun

[Miro]

1st day of Winter, 513 AV

Miro walked into the Spot and up to the counter. He reached into his sling and revealed a piece of parchment acknowledging that he had completed his task for Alendrus to an acceptable degree. He spoke to Bohir in a calm, docile tone. "Master Miro, here to claim my reward for Glyphing. Alendrus has provided this writ of completion, and the amount specified on the job was 70 Miza. It was completed as a service to the city, and to Rhysol. The Institute of Higher Learning has witnessed the rise of a great Summoner."

The Chained One quite late on turning in the job, and still hoped it held some form of relevance. He had completed it a while ago, but many things had held him up and prevented him from turning it in until now. However today was a special day, his birthday, the dawn of Winter. He forced some free time and would use the coins to treat himself. He gave a closing remark to the man behind the bar and chuckled before turning to check out the occupants of the Spot. "Better late than never, eh?"

It was quite dead, and likely held no allure for his day of leisure. He would take his pay and move onward. Perhaps to find Lessomm, or to treat the residents of Ravok to Morwen's grace. He had already done his opening prayer to the Goddess, but still her grace was not spread. Snow and ice and the joy of creating. To express one's self through the medium of ice and share it with the kin of the city. His Reimancy was a boon in this instance, unrivaled in its ability to produce his supply of ice. It had been too long since the Ice Reaver tapped his mark last.

[Abstract]

Miro

The bartender looked up at Miro, raising an eyebrow as he approached. He took the parchment and filed it away, opening his large book at the same time. When he found the job he nodded and made an agreeable sound, before turning around and heading into a back room. He returned with a medium-sized bag of mizas, and passed it to Miro.

"Here ya go" Bohir said with a smile, closing his book. "Come again."

OOC+70gm for you!

[Tyrek]

Day 37 of Winter in the Year 513 AV

The sun was setting, its red and orange hues blending together into a spectacular sunset as they touched down on the calm waters of the lake. A small sea otter floated contently on his back gnawing on a small fish he had caught. Tyrek lounged against a wooden pole attached to one of the piers along the Docks. The merchants had finished their business for the day and the activity on the docks was winding down as evening approached.

Tyrek gazed at his tavan companion who was diving under the water and reappearing some distance off. A small smile flickered across the Svefra’s face. Him and his friend had gone through a lot together. Memories of the past flashed through his mind.

Zith. Murders. Family. Gone.

Tyrek shook his head, vehemently try to shove the thoughts out of his mind. Waking up on the remains of his home and finding the sea otter peering down at him was the only thing that kept him together during the first few years. Had he been alone during those first few months, he most likely wouldn’t have made it. He owned a lot to his little friend.

Tyrek sighed and rubbed his face. It had been five, hard years but he survived. He did what he had to and didn’t look back. He pushed off the pole and whistled loudly. The little mammal perked up from the water and chattered at Tyrek. The Svefra gave two short whistles and the sea otter dove under the water. A few seconds later it popped up beside the deck. Tyrek leaned down and picked up the little animal from the water and set him down gently on the wooden pier.

The sea otter shook himself violently, water spraying everywhere. When he finished he looked up at Tyrek and chattered at him loudly. Tyrek chuckled,“C’mon you, it’s time to get a drink.” The Svefra set off down the dock, sea otter following closely on his heels. As they were approaching their apartment, Tyrek noticed a floating structure. He squinted at it, not really sure what he was looking at. It seemed to be a boat of sorts. Laughter and music carried through the evening air, originating from the oddly shaped construct. It was labeled, The Spot.

Tyrek looked down at his tavan companion. The sea otter stopped and tilted his head up at the Svefra quizzically.“Hmm, you’re right, let’s try it out.” He strode towards the boat and crossed the small wooden platform that acted as a bridge from the pier to the door. Opening the tavern door, he stepped inside.

It was surprisingly clean as far as taverns go, much to Tyrek’s surprise. Tables, stools and chairs were scattered across the room. The bar was slowly beginning to fill with customers as the Ravokians were finishing their work and coming to get a drink. The smell of cooked food waffered through the air and the sound of loud men trying to talk over one another hit him like a wall. Scully maids flirted and carried tankards of ale from the bar to their respected customers.

Having taken everything in, Tyrek began to step away from the doorway towards the bar, but a board on the wall to the left caught his attention. He made his way to it and stared at it passively. Seeing something that spiked his interest, he tore one of the pieces of parchment off the wall. Tyrek strode over to the bar, his sea otter scurrying around his feet.

The Svefra crossed both arms and leaned against the countertop. “Excuse me, bartender?” Tyrek lifted one hand and slid the parchment across the wooden surface, “Can you tell me anything about these…Worried Parents?”

[Abstract]

Bohir didn't recognize the man who approached, but knew a job request when he heard on. "Alright," he muttered, nodding a little, but didn't bother to even look at Tyrek once. Instead, he flipped through his large book, coming to a spot near the end, where he stopped.

"Right. Basically, as the name says, a pair of -wealthy- parents are worried about their kid... he's getting into trouble they don't approve of, and think it might be going against Rhysol, or the Black Sun. They don't want him arrested though... they just want him watched for a few days, and then want a report on anything... suspicious... he did." Bohir shrugged. "That's the idea, at least. I have the details here." He pushed a slip of paper towards Tyrek.

OOCFeel free to come up with details....

[Tyrek]

Day 37 of Winter in the Year 513 AV

Tyrek listened intently as the bartender spoke. "Wealthy parents, I can deal with that," he mused. Babysitting, not something he was exactly keen on doing but it would give him the opportunity to check out the more wealthy district of Ravok.

"Alright, I'll take it." Tyrek reached across the counter and took the slip of paper from the bartenders hands. "You'll be hearing from me soon," he called back over his shoulder as he made his way to the door. He stopped briefly at the door and turned. He stuck his thumb and index finger in his mouth and blew two sharp whistles. A small whiskered face poked up from a chair across the room.

Tyrek jerked his head in the direction of the door and the sea otter leaped off the chair and scurried to his friend. Tyrek looked down fondly at his tavan companion and pushed the door open, stepped through and disappeared into the night.

[Abstract]

Before Tyrek could walk too far, Bohir's hand lashed out and grabbed his wrist. It wasn't in any sort of violence, but the man's lips twitched down in a frown. "Your name, please?" he asked impatiently, quill tapping the page where the name should be.

Once the name was given and written down, the Svefra was free to go out and begin his job.