Completed A Foot in the Door (Iskessah Kosun)

[Inoadar]

11th of Fall, 513

'Well, at least I'm not having to go to the preachin' IHL first, this time.' Inoadar grumbled to himself. His leg ached. It troubled him beyond the pain and the inconvenience of frequent rests. It had been mauled by a wolf more than a full season ago and still was barely showing signs of healing.

He found it difficult to suspect Wrenmae for this too. But, like several other aspects of recent difficulties, it seemed to begin with the strange young man's arrival. After the mauling, at the end of Spring, his leg had begun to heal normally enough for ten or twenty days. He hadn't even needed bandages on it anymore. Then, five or six days after the maledictor had installed himself as a temporary shop assistant, the damned thing had broken out in rank, weeping infection. He'd had to change foul-smelling, damp, stained bandages two or three times a day. And he always felt kind of sick.

Business had certainly been good though. His poisons had been remarkably potent during this same time. He'd been able to actually "cut" his toxins and still win praise from his customers. He'd gotten near double his normal product from normal initial investments. What would make HIM so weak, yet his poison so strong?

He also suspected the clever fellow had been doing some sort of mind djed affect on him. Looking back, there were numerous instances of some very out-of-character behavior that he simply could not account for. It had gotten him into no end of trouble, trouble he could not seem to extricate himself from, but which Wrenmae seemed to be able to smooth out with inexplicable ease.

He didn't even know why he liked the guy so much. He'd been nothing but trouble...it seemed...but he could never pinpoint exactly why. Once again, he dismissed this fruitless speculation in a huff. The man was gone, south to Syliras, he understood.

His mind followed this usual circular path as he sat, rubbing his lower leg. At least it was healing again. And at least his only side trip this time had been to the NHC offices. They were in the docks, so was his room at Tarsin's Boarding House, and so was his target destination, one of the numerous NHC subsidized apartment buildings scattered throughout the Docks district.

The other day - well, in truth, it was eight or ten days ago - he'd gotten around to returning some charts and reference material to the IHL. He'd been allowed to take them home during his enrollment period there, studying the Fungal and Araneida families of toxin development. He'd wanted to ask about enrolling in the Serpente course there, but was advised to wait, as it was unexpectedly full this season. He'd asked his Araneida master if there was any preview material he could research.

The man had snorted indignantly at the thought of a non-enrollee laying his hands on any IHL property. Inoadar had expressed his understanding and turned to leave when the Master called him back. Inoadar waited in equal parts patience and curiosity as the man went through some records in a back-corner cabinet.

"Here it is." he crowed, pulling out a yellowed folder. He pulled it back, out of Inoadar's reach. "Vayt's Teeth, boy! I'm not giving it to you! Just a name and an address. I knew a man named Mattieu Kosun years ago. He could probably have been a Serpente Master here then if he'd chosen. But, for whatever reason, he wished to enjoy his privacy. He's been dead for some time now, but there's apparently some niece, or cousin-twice-removed, or some such relative living at this address."

He scratched some numbers down on a scrap of paper. "The old fellow probably had a log or journal of some sort, detailing his work. I suppose it's possible you could persuade this "niece" into giving it up to someone that would actually put it to use. I hate to see a lifetime of work gone to waste. For that matter, if you wished to donate it..." he let that hang.

So here he was now, approaching a door, limping and sweating in spite of his cane. It was, in fact, a combination blowgun and stiletto. He also had his usual assortment of darts hidden up his sleeve in loops on a soft leather bracer. There were a few other hidden weapons. It was not that he expected trouble, it was simply common sense, as he saw it. He stopped to collect himself, combing and straightening himself up as he practiced the name a few times, hoping he had it right. "Iskessah Kosun...Iskessah Kosun..." He cleared his throat and knocked on the door.

[Iskessah]

Iskessah did not understand Joshry's obsession with celebrating the anniversary of her birth, but here he was in her apartment, and with an abomination of confection. "I hope you know I am not going to eat that," Iskessah told the boy with a grimace of distaste. Joshry merely shrugged, grinned, and said, "More for me." As the boy began to cut himself a piece of the cake, a knock came at the door. Iskessah gave Joshry an annoyed look, assuming that he must have brought additional humans in some bizarre attempt to "party". But Joshry just shrugged, as confused as she was. Iskessah went to the door, habits of caution ruining her calm. Her muscles tensed, and her mind began running wild with possibilities. She hated her limited senses in this form, but despite how easy it was for strangers to sneak up on her, as long as she was in Ravok, her human form was the safest for her. She cast her mind back to her recent actions, wondering if she'd let slip anything lately that would make people suspicious of her nature. Nothing stood out, but she could never discount the possibility. If it was someone who had been harboring suspicions for longer, then it was more likely that they wanted to blackmail her. Regardless, until she knew more about her visitor, her best strategy was to pretend nothing was amiss. She opened the door about a foot, enough to get a good look at the man standing in front of it, without revealing the inside of the room, or Joshry's presence. She glared coldly at the intruder and said, "What do you want?"

[Inoadar]

Inoadar could behave quite humbly when the situation required it. He had no hat to remove, but he hunched his shoulders slightly in what he hoped was a meek demeanor. He placed both hands in front of him, one atop the other on the crook of his cane.

His attitude very nearly flared into a reactive anger at the glare she "welcomed" him with. A considerably less-than-friendly "What do you want." did nothing to aid his facade of passivity, but he held it in check with an effort.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, Miss...Kosun?...Iskessah Kosun? Forgive me if I am mispronouncing it." he said, giving her only just the slightest pause to confirm or deny the identification. She did neither. As he continued, he let the lower end of his cane creep into the doorjamb in case she decided not to hear him out. "My name is Nolan Parnell. I am a poison crafter here in town and I was hoping to expand my areas of expertise into the 'Serpente' family..."

Just for a second, he almost added a clarification that 'Serpente' referred to snake-venom-based toxins, but there was no look of a question on her face. Logic further deemed that if she was the niece, or second cousin, or whatever, of this Mattieu Kosun, she probably knew damned well what it was.

She did not appear to think this was sufficient reason to invite him inside, so he cleared his throat and continued. "I have been attending the Institute of Higher Learning up until this point for such additional fields of knowledge, but they are presently all booked up in the 'Serpente' curriculum. However, the current attending Master in that field informed me that one Mattieu Kosun is, or rather, was, a relative of yours, and possessed a comprehensive journal on the subject, and I...uh...do you suppose I could possibly come inside?"

[Iskessah]

Iskessah's eyes narrowed when he mentioned Serpente posions. What does he know? her mind insistently demanded. It seemed too coincidental that this unknown person would just happen to arrive on the doorstep of a secret Dhani, looking to learn about snake-poisons. Not to mention that any reminder of how Mattieu had used her filled her with a cold fury. Fortunately, he kept talking, which gave her time to calm herself before she had to reply. Of course, Mattieu had been known in certain circles as a student of the poisoning arts. It was not unreasonable to assume he had a journal; from what she understood, keeping journals was not at all uncommon among scholarly types of any profession. So, if he wasn't here because he was suspicious about her identity... that meant he was just a nosy brat looking for any knowledge he didn't already have. She suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to cooperate. If she'd learned anything in Ravok, it was that generosity was not how people operated. Even the Valdinox who had secured her citizenship papers had demanded something in return. This Nolan Parnell's problem was that Iskessah did not particularly want anything from him, and so she was disinclined to cooperate. On the other hand, there was no faster way to suggest she had something to hide than to turn him away outright. Finally she said slowly, "I don't know if I can help you. And I'm a bit occupied at the moment--" Suddenly, Joshry interrupted with, "Who is it Iskessah?" Even more annoyingly, he had decided to come over to the door, his curiosity frustratingly insatiable. She pretty much had no choice at this point but to open the door all the way. "Oh, hi. Are you Iskessah's friend? We were just celebrating her birthday!" He greeted Nolan with his customary big dopey grin. Iskessah suppressed a grimace with difficulty. She had to forcibly remind herself that Nolan had no reason to search the room, and certainly wouldn't try while she was there. She made a mental note to move the journal to a more secure hiding place when he left. Reluctantly, she stood aside to let the man in. Perhaps Joshry would be distracting enough the man would forget why he came here.

[Inoadar]

As much as Inoadar knew he had a pass to enter, he could see that the woman before him was not happy about it. Normally, he wouldn't care. He assumed they were both human, so he figured that if worse came to worst, he'd disable them both with poison and just take what he wanted while they lay in convulsions on the floor. But in this case, it was likely the woman had the journal hidden, possibly booby-trapped. Plus, he'd foolishly mentioned his reference from the IHL, which meant the woman could possibly trace him back through that lead.

He kept the possibility of poisoning them both in mind though, figuring the cake on the table to be a likely target. But for now, he simply tried to be amiable, hoping to find that this "Iskessah" had no great desire to retain the book. He thanked the young man that had indirectly invited him in and immediately launched into diplomacy, hoping to disarm the annoyance which had flashed across the woman's sharp features. He tried to hide his eagerness behind a look of embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I did not know I was interrupting such a special day. I mean, I knew I would be intruding to some degree, but thought if a mutually beneficial agreement could be reached, I would make up for it." He could see the woman just aching for him to offer to 'come back later'. He thought this hope might make her more wiling to come to terms with him, just to get him gone all the sooner.

He quickly took an expected tact in order to veil any notion that he recognized the alternative obligation to offer to leave. "Well, I certainly hope you have a very happy birthday. I will try to keep this short then. As I said, it is my understanding that you possess a journal belonging to this 'Master Mattieu', and I was hoping to make use of it. I mean, I hate to see a man's life's work sit, collecting dust."

He looked around, seeing no indication whatsoever of any lab equipment. He took this to mean that the woman would have no reason to keep the material. "I would be willing to accommodate you in any way you chose. I can understand that you may not wish to part with it, in which case I would be willing to copy the material from it, if you prefer. Or perhaps there are only sections of it that I would need. I'm trying to develop my craft, and this family of toxins is one that would be quite lucrative to master."

'Now to blab on boringly and hope she will surrender some arrangement to shut me up.' he thought, stifling a smirk. "You see, I started learning first in Sunberth where I served as an apprentice, so I had no real choice over the families of toxin that were covered. When I then moved to Zeltiva, I found the "Aquatic" sources in rich supply, both in literature and material, naturally being a coastal city..."

He droned on about how the local environments of the cities he'd visited determined which toxins were most readily available to be studied or indulged, citing unnecessary examples. He intended to eventually lead up to the fact that 'serpente' toxin was quite lucrative and marketable here, because of the many sources, swamp, forest and marine varieties primarily. And how it was only misfortune of timing that prevented him from doing this research at the IHL. He went on that it only made sense to learn a craft so readily available to be developed from the indigenous sources in the area, rather than pursue categories that were sparse to non-existent in this part of Mizahar.

He tried to keep blathering on, because he could tell that the young man standing nearby was going to change the subject at the first opportunity, and he wanted very much for this woman to grow tired of his babble and agree to come to terms with him before that happened. Thus far, however, she seemed to have no more interest in pursuing this "Happy Birthday" than HE did.

[Iskessah]

It was only the first few words Nolan spoke that made Iskessah recall with annoyance how much humans talked, and how little they said. His toad-eating manner made her want to give him a first-hand experience of the poison Mattieu was so fond of using. Sadly, that would take time, enough for him to run away or scream or otherwise cause trouble. Iskessah considered the journal he was after. She'd picked it up a few times over the years, but had never done any serious study. At the moment, she couldn't think of any particular reason not to give it to him, but there was no reason to help him either, and if she'd learned one thing from all those years with Mattieu it was to never give up any information you didn't have to. There was no benefit to sharing Mattieu's journal; worse, if he got hold of Mattieu's ideas, he might try to repeat them, which would put her kin in danger. Not to mention that too close a perusal of the journal would reveal her identity to a reader of the slightest intelligence. And she'd discovered that when people in Ravok went on and on without saying anything substantial, they usually did so for a reason. She was saved from having to address his request immediately by his monolithic speech. His plan to bore her backfired terribly. As he spoke of distant lands, some of which she'd been to, and the details of their local poisons, a spark of interest lit in her eyes. She moved very little, not inclined to give much away, but her eyes were fully open, and focused on his face, fully alert to what he was saying in a way that she hadn't been when he'd only been talking about the journal. She was beginning to think she might not regret having let him in after all. At the very least, he was more entertaining than Joshry's ridiculous confection. (Joshry, meanwhile, had gotten bored of the conversation and slowly edged back to the table for another slice of cake.) In any case, she was feeling charitable enough to engage Nolan Parnell in at least a few moments of conversation. It would be interesting to see what they could learn from each other, and what they could keep hidden. As he concluded his argument, the corner of Iskessah's lip curled up, possibly as if in some private joke. “I know a little of the work my uncle performed, and he went to great effort to retrieve decidedly non local venom. I doubt you’d find what you are looking for in the journal he kept, even it hadn’t been burned long ago." There, let him chew on that for a bit. It wasn't even much of a lie. Iskessah had almost burned the thing on accident before she'd found it. What kind of maniac kept his journal buried under the logs of his fireplace?

[Inoadar]

For a moment, Inoadar nearly sagged in disappointment.'The book had been burned?' he lamented silently. An anger started to burn in his gut. This "Iskessah" had started to look interested as he'd ran on, attempting to wear her resistance down. Why would she have been piqued like that if she knew she only had this major letdown to offer up in response? It added up to her having enjoyed ruining his hopes.

Then certain other inconsistencies stood out. They may have been mere slips of the tongue, but it was an incongruity worth investigating. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. Perhaps I'm nitpicking, but the faculty at the IHL never mentioned any great amount of travel on his part. I'm sure there's a simple explanation, but you seemed to recognize many of the geographical references as to which species are found where. Excuse me if I mistook what seemed like sparks of interest at my mention of several distant locations."

He made distinct attempts to sound self-effacing, but he watched her carefully now. "I don't mean to pry, I'm just curious what you mean by "great effort", if he did not travel. Or, on the other hand, if he had all these species shipped in, how is it you seem to recognize these places. Forgive me if I'm broaching something private, you just seemed to suddenly grow interested, as if you had some memory of them."

He quickly shifted tact before she became certain of his veiled accusation."Perhaps that memory extends to who it was that provided him this service. I mean the service of shipping these creatures into Ravok. Surely such an undertaking would require some clearance... records... documentation." He shrugged, "If the journal itself is lost, this would be another angle I could pursue. I could probably cross-reference such documents with those on file at the IHL and get some ideas of what sources he was working with."

He let enthusiasm creep back into his voice, though mostly he was watching her reaction, "Then with the work you did with him, I might be able to reconstruct some of his research. How "long ago" did this journal burn anyway, if you don't mind my asking?"

[Iskessah]

His suspicion that she enjoyed ruining his hopes wasn't entirely wrong. She took a certain pleasure watching his face fall, and if she'd been less preoccupied, she might have done it on purpose. She briefly indulged in a moment of fantasy where she had the luxury of tormenting victims without fear of reprisal. But she was quickly reminded this was not one of those moments by his subsequent accusations. Irritation drenched her voice as she snapped, “I have traveled, or don’t you recall the march lassst year?” She silently cursed; in her frustration, she’d let her hissing accent slip into her speech, just a bit. Normally she wouldn’t be too worried--most people assumed it was just a lisp--but she didn’t want to take chances with someone poking this close to her secrets. She went on, trying to be more careful, but still unable to keep a hard edge out of her tone. “My uncle preferred to hire help. He paid well to keep them quiet. I don’t mind telling you that the only trick he had involved nobody knowing the origin of the venom he employed.” His last question was easier to answer. The lie wasn't all that difficult to maintain, since it was something that could easily have happen, and might as well have, given how little she'd taken advantage of the journal. Now that she gave it so much thought, she wondered why she hadn't burned the book by accident. It seemed a little strange to her that she would bother to search the fireplace before getting warm, especially at...that time. She pretended to think about his question for a bit, as if trying to recall exactly when. Finally, she turned to Joshry and asked speculatively, "When did we meet?" Joshry blinked a few times, having been unable to entirely follow the conversation so far. He had no idea why a strange man was here asking questions about a man long dead, and he, fortunately, was unaware of the journal. Iskessah had never bothered to mention it to him, and it was a good thing too, because she wasn't entirely sure about Joshry's ability to keep secrets. He had a good heart, but he didn't really play the games that his mother and Mattieu had been so good at. "Um... I think it was about seven... no, eight years ago now," he finally responded, puzzled out of his mind, and just trying to keep quiet so he didn't make trouble for Kess. Whatever she was trying to do, it was way over his head. Iskessah turned back to Nolan Parnell and said, "Not long before that." She gazed back at him, almost eagerly, though she tried to suppress any of that emotion from showing. She was unaccountably curious what tactic he would try next. It had been so long since she'd tried to match wits with someone, and it surprised her how much she was enjoying it.

[Inoadar]

Despite his focus, he still allowed a sight double take to betray his notice of her lisp. He tried to cover it by feigning surprise that a woman would be accepted to take part in a military campaign."Oh, I...uh...I'm sorry...You campaigned with the army last year?" It would not do though, to question such a thing. She would undoubtedly be insulted, and that would gain nothing. Better to adopt an envious tact. "I wanted to. But I was com-...asked to stay behind."

He hoped his approach would undo the chance that she might have felt he was suggesting that she would only be asked to accompany the army to serve as camp whore. He also hoped she might have taken note of his deliberate "slip" on the word "commanded", to get the impression that he, too, was more than just a citizen.

But more than anything was the notice of the lisp. It had only been last season he had first encountered one of those "Dhani", a man named "Kyo- or Kyro-something". He too, had the lisp on "S"es. A warning flashed across his mind that Kyro (or whatever) had been freakishly strong. It also came to mind that his old temporary assistant, Wrenmae, had told him that these Dhani were usually enslaved when found. He thought it was Wrenmae anyway. It occurred to him that this "Iskessah" may not BE a citizen at all. Which meant she would be very cautious. And HE should be as well.

He only half-listened to Iskessah's blurb about how every aspect of Mr. Mattieu's past pursuits were conveniently conducted in such a way as to leave no trace or witness. Encouraging a strange visitor to believe that there was no trail to follow would certainly be consistent with the aims of a member of a race wishing to remain hidden. He didn't know if this status would make citizenship unobtainable for such a one. After all, he knew that Irriari, a Zith, had obtained it. But there was something inherently distrustful about shape-shifters. 'Were Kelvics ever citizens?' he asked himself doubtfully.

Another inconsistency presented itself, "venom", not "venomS", or rather, "venomssss" he thought with an incompletely stifled smirk. "I'm sorry, Miss...Iskessah...Was this just a sslip of the tongue? Are you saying Mr. Mattieu only worked with one venom?" he deliberately put an ever-so-slight lisp on the word. "A Master would hardly limit himself so. And why PAY at all to keep such men quiet? The most trustworthy tongue is a dead one." he gave her a direct look. "Or one with just as much to lose. For instance, a partner."

[Iskessah]

Most of Nolan's assumptions went right over Iskessah's head. She was too used to planning her words carefully to take notice when he decided to change one of his, and she generously forgave him for not having the practice to fully plan what he wanted to say before speaking. And the idea of "camp whore" never even entered her mind. Even if he had been implying she slept with the whole army, she would hardly have taken it as an insult, nor would it have followed logically that she was incapable of anything else. She took her pleasure where she wished, and that had no bearing on her other skills. Iskessah's eyes narrowed sharply. Had he taken note of her hiss and played it back to her? It was so slight she couldn't be sure. And what would be his purpose in such an act? Most Ravokians who noticed the hiss at all either ignored it or looked on her with disdain. The only time someone has even taken an interest in the habit was someone who knew more than they should about Dhani. Still, the odds that he knew something were too small to risk raising a fuss. If she panicked and became defensive, that would only prove she had something to hide. When she spoke of Mattieu as a master, her lip curled in a smirk of contempt, and her eyes barely contained intense bitterness and hatred. She laughed derisively and said, "Mattieu had one trick, and it made him more reputation than talent. It kept him wealthy, until," here she glanced at Nolan, lowering her eyelids mockingly, "the partner you mention judged him unfit to live." Joshry choked on the piece of cake he was trying to eat, and he looked at Iskessah with disbelieving, almost angry eyes. "Wh-what? You never told me--" He cut of as Iskessah shot him her most annoyed glare. Really, what did he think would happen to her if he couldn't learn to keep his mouth shut in front of strangers? There years of friendship were enough to still his tongue for now, but she knew he'd be demanding answers. If she were lucky, she'd have the chance to explain in private. If not...