Spring 17th, 513 AV – The Flaxen District
The Eastern Quarter looked the same as it always did to her gaze, nothing in Nyka ever really changed for the most part. It was its most admirable positive trait and its worst damned enemy as far as she was concerned. It brought stability, prosperity and a sense of belonging – these were things not found in abundance anywhere else she had visited, not truly. Still she could not help but wonder what would happen to the city if a crisis tore through it, whatever that might have been. Could it have reacted properly? Oh, she played with such scenario’s frequently, often planned triggering such an event herself and for her own gain. Still, if she ever did gain control of a portion of Nyka she would have to know how to defend it and she could see little in the way of such abilities so far.
They all rely upon the Monks, take that away from them and they have…nothing. Few can fight, none have seen true brutality. It’s a wonder they’re even civilized at all! she chuckled to herself internally as she sat upon a bench and watched the bustle of trading that was the bulk of the Flaxen District.
It was strange to her, thinking such things as she sat and peacefully passed her gaze over the various ritual scrawling and symbolism scattered here and there on the stone walls of the buildings that were not obscured by the bodies of sweaty stall vendors. It was very much the beating heart of the Order of the Heavy Coffers – not a single Laat went astray and they all came from – and returned to – the vault of the Monastic Order in the East. The citizens here were friendlier than most she knew, that had not changed in te years she had been away and it presented her with an opportunity she had not had the resources to try on her last visitation 6 years prior.
“Advantage indeed, though not the conventional sense” she muttered to herself.
She was awaiting someone, anyone of a more…illicit nature. Her scheme had been a simple one, to spread rumour and whsipers thorugh the ranks of the foreigners within the Safe Haven Hostel that someone wished to meet with those possessed of ‘sticky fingers’ as it were. It was a whisper that she kenw would carry far and it had ripped thorugh those assembled for their daily rationgs like fire upon dry grass. Money was scarce and travel difficult without the coin – she had rpesented those who dared with an opportunity and all she had to do was sit upon a bench.
Not an overly bad deal. There is no danger to it, none would let it slip to Vysia for fear of impalement and so…I am safe. For now. We shall see what happens if someone shows up she mused as she tried to pick targets from the crowd.
Her game was a simple one – she needed others to owe her before she could take advantage of favours owed. It was an equation known the world over but decidedly impossible in Nyka. No, she needed to do something for them without them even knowing and that was where the larceny came into play. She would have a few things stolen from a few merchants, enough to be thankful when returned. Now all she needed to do was wait.
“Hope they aren’t too bloody long at it, I haven’t got all day after all” she stated under her breath as the frustration began to settle in a little.
Amusing thread, as it is.
