PM to join All in a day

[Berend]

Berend nodded in agreement with the sentiment, none to happy to have been woken up in the middle of the night. His work called for it though, so he couldn't really complain in 'polite' company. Just thinking about it made him want to look about, and see whom was staring at him. Ignoring the impulse, he stuck to staring forward while he listened. "Ah, you know, depends on the day. Somedays plenty to do, other days you scrape for something else" He tried sounding confident, and sure of himself, but his voice cracked as he spoke which had his cheeks redding a tinge more. "Winter's always a bad time for finding things though" Having hoped for a change of subject, he could've easily sighed in relief when it sounded like he hit upon something important, but he dared not to make any noise that might interrupt her. What with all the wondering about his work, and his voice cracking, he was entirely content to just listen. Reflexively, he stopped when she did, finally giving in to the urge to look about suspiciously before relaxing a little, and facing her more squarely. Not having any alley behind him, he was confident enough to loiter in front of a few stalls with her. The merchant guards at his back gave him small comfort, but reassured him of a certain kind of security. At least the subject was now relatively tame for anyone overhearing. "All day eh? Must have been good friends to take such a trip" He said, a bit of wonder in his tone as he mused what that would be like with his own little circle of 'friends'. Any way he spun it though, it didn't end well. "Never really considered it. Sunberth is all I know, and Ma talks an awful lot about how anywhere else your either powerful, or a slave. Besides, works never so good to get me on one of those ships in the harbor, or a caravan for that matter" Berend spoke, softly now, and shrugged. "Is that why you came here? To be free?" "Uh.. Not to say you were a slave miss or anything like that, but I heard they regulate a lot you know, and uh, just didn't word that proper!" He hurriedly added, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

[Shakune]

"I bet." She murmured, once again in that conspiratory tone and with the same smirk on her lips. The young lad certainly seemed shy, almost willing himself to come across as confident but seeming the exact opposite. Had Shakune ever been like that, in her youth? She guessed not; her existence had been centred around her miserable mother when she was a young girl, and then the man who had practically become her father until his untimely death.

Once again, she was transported to the past as she recalled the countless faces she had come across during her travels. "Sea travelling does funny things to people. It tends to bring them all closer, or drives them apart instantly. Fortunately, only a few people come to mind in that sense." There had been exactly two such people who had joined Shakune's ship in her eight years at sea. Both had left within the turn of the season, one voluntarily and one who was practically thrown overboard.

She shared his observation that getting onto a ship was pricey. It was something Shakune had been planning to do for the past two years, but as of yet she had failed. There were always more dire things to spend her money on; inconvenient things like bread and medicine.

Her thoughts were cut short by the lad's words, and his sudden desperation to correct them. In response, Shakune laughed. "Gods, I ain't offended! Don't worry." She patted his shoulder encouragingly, grinning now, "it takes much more than a genuine mistake to offend me - don't you worry. But no, I came here because my ship docked her. But our captain died. And after a while, the crew went their own way." She described the occurrence with a casual shrug, as she did every time she repeated it. In reality, the situation had been devastating for her at all stages: the death of her captain who had been a father to her, to the dissolving of the crew, who had become her extended family. "Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky I ain't ever been a slave. Apparently in Ravok Chaktawe's are highly sought after." She said this with a stranger sense of pride, as if she were a pedigree dog on show.

[Berend]

"Yeah.." Berend agreed with a shrug, and a little smile after he broke eye contact with her to look down at his feet. They contrasted well with the snow melt on the ground, and were all together inappropriate for daytime sneaking. He looked up again, searching her face for answers. Why the questions about what he did? Did she know? If she did, why even talk to him? It didn't make sense to him, her being suspiciously amiable and yet no trap had been sprung. His left hand reflexively felt the side of his breeches, reassured at the weight of the spare coins there. He didn't look down to check, for he wanted the movement to at least have a pretense of being casual, but belatedly he realized his intent stare dispelled that notion long before. Taking a deep breath of the cold air to settle himself, he directed his eyes away from hers a fraction lower to focus on her nose. They were still so new that he was finding it increasingly harder not to gawk at them, so in this case, perhaps it would be more appropriate for him not to look there. He also tried quieting his mind, putting his myriad of misgivings on the shelf for the moment while he focused on listening to her tell of the sea. That was by far more pleasant to think about, as to hear her tell it, there was nothing better. Whatever that means. Berend couldn't help but wonder if her time in Sunberth enhanced or soured those memories, and settled on the former after hearing her have so many words on the subject. He only talked a lot about what he liked after all, and so it figured an outsider might too. Could be wrong though, never know a Chaktawe before His words followed the thought, and hastily his mind struggled to correct the situation and the assumptions he made on life elsewhere. He had a sense of something wrong in what he said, or a suggestion of it. It hadn't occurred to him to think before replying, so lost in trying to observe as he'd been, but now suspended in the moment, free of thought, the awkward moment stretched endlessly before him. She answered it with what he hoped was a hearty laugh. This time, he did not try to hide his smile, so relieved was he by this, because he honestly feared offending this stranger. She was too comfortable here to not be formidable, and probably fast given her occupation. Probably could out run him if it came to it, but he certainly did not intend on giving her a reason to want to. So when she mentioned the captain, he promptly quit smiling so he could frown, and looked down at his feet again. This time it was longer than a few blinks. "Get yourself warmed with a nice cider here!" Recognizing the voice, Berend looked up still frowning over the morbid news, to settle his gaze on a grizzled old man stirring a pot of the drink while simultaneously heckling the crowd. He resisted a smile at the chance for a change of topic, and instead looked at her again. "Care to get some, my treat for a moment ago.... or anything I might be dumb enough to say in the future if that suits you" It occurred to him to add that last part moments later when he remembered her words earlier that relieved him so. Putting one foot in front of the other, but still angled to the side to keep her in view, he started slowly for the merchant.

[Shakune]

Shakune's sharp black eyes observed her companion again. He still seemed on edge; as if he had just been about to carry out a complicated crime and she had interrupted him. Perhaps she had, but why stick around and continue their conversation?

It wouldn't be unlike Shakune to stumble upon a suspicious scene and assume everything was just dandy and perfect. It wasn't that she was naive; Shakune knew crime happened, but she lacked the common sense to take note of things. Once before, she had placed herself between two men who had been quietly planning a murder. The half-breed, who had happily got drunk in their awkward company, had not noticed their subtle hints that she should leave. The would-be victim had survived the night, and Shakune's new friends had learnt never to plan their criminal activities around her.

Her attention also moved to the grizzled man and his steaming pot. The fruit cider smelt warm, sweet and tempting. Before Berend had even finished his sentence, Shakune was nodding enthusiastically. "Yes! Anything warm would be welcomed, especially alcohol."

She followed in suit behind him, black eyes focused on that pot of cider that was now the sole object of her desire. By the time they stood beside the vendor, Shakune realised with mild embarrassment that she practically salivating. Perhaps the cold had finally got to her, turned her mad so the presence of anything mildly warm excited her so much.

"And don't worry about sayin' stuff," she began, restarting their previous conversation before she had focused solely on getting to the cider pot. Shakune reached her hand towards the great metal pot and the emanating warmth welcomed her like a lover. Oh, how she'd love to just dive right into that pot! "If someone's guna be all funny wit' ya after you've said something, they're not worth it." She waved a hand to emphasise her point. In Shakune's history, many friendships had been severed by such means. A bad joke could sour even the most solid relationships. "People need to get over themselves."

Seriousness did not suit Shakune; her mother had been deadly morbid and dull, so as a child the half-breed had sworn to never be the same. Life was far too short to be insulted by the words of another person, especially if there was no intent behind them. "There's much more serious things to worry about." She murmured quietly, reinforcing her opinion more to herself than to Berend or the vendor.

With a clap of her hands, Shakune ended her solemnness and grinned to her companion. "Now, for cider!"

oocSorry for the delay! I completely thought I'd already replied to you

[Berend]

Having had noted them all proper like, the vendor was ready with two steaming cups of the stuff already on the table. Berend let a handful of copper mizas go clink against the table to allow the merchant to go through what he thought was right for his trouble, and while the fellow went about that, he took one of the rough wooden cups in hand. He didn't drink it though, or even look into the contents of the cup because she was still speaking, and he figured it more respectful this way, stranger or not. Not that it was hard not to, for over here it was a bit warmer with that fire going, and his wool clothes did a better job for it. It almost took away the numbness in his extremities. "Yea?.. That be true enough, but then again, they wouldn't get no use of all them pretty words" He managed a grin at that, but mumbled out that last bit, his eyes conveniently occupied else where around the market. Most notably, the lingered for more than a few moments on someone whom looked a lot like Grael, and then they disappeared, leaving him to look back at her. A good thing too, because the conversation seemed to be getting to an uncomfortable shade past casual, but that soon righted itself thankfully. "Indeed, I'll drink to that" Raising his cup to click against her own, Berend's grin turned into a smile, and then with that ritual done, he downed its' contents in a gulp that sent much needed warmth back into him. It proved to be sweet, and decently strong which suited him fine, with him going so far as to hand it to the merchant for another cupful of the ambrosia. The fellow seemed more than happy to comply, and more of his coin went scrape on the table as the man collected his due. Berend stifled a sigh at that, the custom drawing a bit of old ire out of him now that he was getting all settled with this, but he let it go in favor of collecting his cup. The drink had been just what he needed it was decided as he sipped away at this new cup, his mind trying to think up what was appropriate for this situation. Now that he had the fire in him that he had been waiting for, what next was he to do besides spare idle word to the cold breeze. He was calm now, or at least a good bit calmer, and he felt he could think clear enough to proceed with care, but the direction of it still puzzled him. Another scrape, scrape, scrape from the old man counting out his due brought to mind that his own purse getting a bit light, and his hand tightened a tinge white around his cup. "So I'm curious, do you have to be writing your clients messages, or do they" Berend took a decidedly long sip with that said, and tried seeming all casual by leaning against the stall. His thought though, were back on the mark, the only thing that mattered with these being the days of cold and hunger. If he could just find out what she wanted from this situation, maybe, just maybe, he could arrange a deal.

oocOh, no problem! It does indeed get hard to keep track at times

[Shakune]

The cider warmed Shakune almost immediately, and she felt that sickly sweetness trail down her gullet and into her stomach. The alcohol was most likely burnt off - assuming there had been alcohol in the cider to begin with - but the courier felt almost drunk with relief.

Aah, thank the Gods!

The lad's question stirred an altogether different response. She frowned, pursed her lips as she considered his question. It was not a difficult question to answer - no, she did not write her client's messages for them. But it was not the challenge of answering that had silenced Shakune.

It was the fact that she had never even considered offering scribing as part of her services. She could write well enough - as well as most of her clients, anyway - but more importantly it was something that she could improve and incorporate into her business. Offering a scribing service would be something that offered Shakune the opportunity to charge more, and increase that all-important profit margin in doing so. And it wouldn't cost particularly much to do; extra ink, paper. Time would be the most costly thing, learning how to spell each word perfectly and neatly.

"I do not, no." Her answer was slow, meticulous, much like her current thought processes. "But quite a few of m'clients are... questionable, as I'm sure you can imagine. Some don't want the person receiving their letter to know who it was from, so having someone else write the message in question..." She trailed off.

Yes, having Shakune write some of the messages herself would surely put some of her more... debatable clients' minds at rest. Then again, how many of such clients would want her to write the message? Because then she would know what the letters said as well, as any secrets or codes might be broken and revealed.

"I would have to offer complete confidentiality. Have a contract, sell my soul -- something." Shakune spoke into her steaming mug of cider, muttering the practicalities of the idea over and over. A quick focus group might help clear her mind. She shot a black up to Berend. "If you used a courier to send a letter, or somethin', would you ever use a scribe? Assuming that the message you were sendin' wasn't a secret." A pause, then: "or even better, if it was. Would you trust the courier to keep the secret? If her livelihood depended on it."

Her pulse was racing, her eyes bright and voice spirited. Shakune loved the business, and was forever gnawing at that profit, much like a dog with a bone.

[Berend]

Berend took another long savoring the taste of it a bit more than the heat of it this time for the drink had already started doing its work, washing away the cold stiffness from his body. Felt so warm on his insides in fact that he wouldn’t have been surprised if the frost on his wool cloak had started melting, though it didn’t. It did bring some color back to his cheeks though, with the pale being replaced by a more rosy hue to reflect the chapping effect of the wind as it gusted down these tight, narrow streets. He didn’t feel like shivering anymore at least, and having that suited him enough to continue standing here in the cold, contemplating. There was business to do after all, and he could brave this foul weather a little longer for it’s sake. His eyes flicked to her waist at the though, hoping to easily spy a coin purse there or something of equivalent value that would make all of this worthwhile, but he hadn’t yet spent much time on such things, usually going for the more obvious examples that Grael pointed out to him so he had no clue of what to look for. To frustrate things, her endless eyes remained on his mind, making him uncomfortable to even dare looking for such a thing, so much so that after a few moments of futile searching, he once more looked up at her face before promptly looking back down into the contents of his cup. Raising it to his lips, he drained the last dregs of the cider remaining, and set it down with a thump on the counter, and kept his hand over the top so the merchant knew he would have no more. He had spent enough coin as it were on this stuff that he was growing to find a bit too sweet for his taste for he was starting not to feel his best, though maybe that was him just recognizing the effects of the cold. Whichever, the drink did not settle to easily on his stomach, and took with it any appetite he might have had before. It occurred to him now that perhaps he shouldn’t have risked such looks so soon, with his plan only freshly formed and hardly enacted yet. He could’ve just ruined it for himself with that, tipped her off to what he was doing for she already had her suspicions, of that he was sure from their chat earlier. No one took too kindly to being made a mark of, though he’d yet to be caught sizing someone up so he wasn’t sure of what to look for to know that she had indeed caught him looking. Petch that though, he was determined to go through with this, and get whatever he was going to get. Who knows, he might just come out of this on top. Invest it in some warmer clothing and stronger drink. That sound just great to him. “Probably, provided I’d had previously dealt with them I suppose. Like on smaller jobs, ya know?” Berend mused, his hand off the cup now to scratch at the stubble on his chin. It felt a sticky from where the cider had dribbled out so he stopped touching the spot, and tried forgetting about anything that might make him fiddle about right now. A picture of calm he needed to be if this was to work out at all, and so he took a deep breath with that in mind, looking to the sky occasionally as if giving the idea of it a lot of thought, although he had already long decided what he was going to do, and what he wanted to say. If she didn’t speak or if she had, he would wait a few moments acting like this, breathing in and out, while glancing wonderingly at the sky before he opened his mouth to speak again. “How much would you pay for such a service anyways?” It all came down to that really, for depending on how she answered would determined if this job was truly worth it. The less the better in his opinion for paying to much might come out as a hard loss should he fail, but then again, if she charged high, might be she have a sizable purse with her just coming off of a job and all. High risk, high reward as they say, but was he really ready for that? “I ask cause if it isn’t too much, might be I have need of such a service, for the old face to face isn’t always the best option you know?” There it was, he said it, and it all came down to this. He could almost imagine the coin spinning.

[Shakune]

The courier's mind was set ablaze yet again. So much so, in fact, that she did not notice her companion's wandering eyes. Shakune had been the victim of pickpockets before, but she carried so few coins on her person that she always thought that the poor sod who had marked her as a target actually come off worse. There were far richer individuals in the city who took great pride in carrying expensive items or great handfuls of coins. The half-breed was definitely not one of those characters.

Regardless, her imagination swelled at the male's words. So he would use a scribe service! Only after having dealt with the individuals before hand of course, but that was to be expected. Shakune had a small collection of loyal customers who she valued greatly. A couple of them were always complaining about their handwriting, so maybe she were to offer them a writing service alongside her courier service, they would gladly pay the extra.

His question - the first, that is - did not register to Shakune until she realised that a silence had fallen and it was her turn to speak. "Oh. Er--" She collected her thoughts, dragged them away from the potentials and maybes. "Depends, really. A letter is pretty cheap - one gold coin at the most, unless you want it delivered the same day. Same for packages, really. I charge more for heavier loads and quicker deliveries." She finished off her cider with an enthusiastic gulp. "Customers can pay upfront in full, or in two parts before and after the delivery. This costs as extra gold miza though, for insurance."

His second statement sparked yet another flare of interest from her, but a wholly different recent. A new client, perhaps! Business excited Shakune, and she stood square onto the male to really get a good look at him and let her presence be known. "Ah, I see. Well, if y'do need a service, I'll give you a good price." Always start with the promise, Shakune, even if ya don't mean to follow it through.. She extended a hand towards him, equipped with the parchmet sheet that she had request the mysterious figure from earlier to sign. She held the paper up to him, for his inspection. "I'm also the only courier that requires a signature from both the sender and the receiver. To confirm the goods have been delivered for the agreed price. To keep up security, like." Her eyebrows twicthed upwards microscopically and the tiniest of smirks played on her lips, [b]"sticky fingers, and all."[b]

[Berend]

His mouth twitched to form a small grin at the price, but he stopped with that as soon as he took notice of it. Instead he chewed on his bottom lip while he listened quietly, keeping his eyes on hers. He saw himself in them, and suppressed a shiver, wondering just what those eyes could see, and what of the woman behind them. “Care to walk and talk?” Berend turned to the merchant as he asked, scooping off the spare few coins left after this little diversion, and dropped them into a small sackcloth bag before looking up at the man. “Not that I don’t appreciate your company, just business” “Happy to have you no longer loitering about” The man groused, showing plenty of teeth, and he wanted to gag at his breath which stunk of salted fish a few days too old. He managed to stomach it though, and offered a tight little smile in return before turning towards Shakune. If she entertained his suggestion, he’d start walking towards her, off at an angle so that when she walked with him, she’d be on his right side. Keeping her away from the side that held his coins was his intention, but if she forced the issue of walking along his left, he’d make no fuss an continue along in relative silence. “I have need of your services today actually, and I’d like you to write something for me if you could. Do you have the materials on you?” He kept his eyes mostly on the narrow streets they navigated, but before he asked his question, he made sure to catch her eyes, his own very wide. His heart beat faster than the rhythm of their steps, and he kept his hands from fidgeting by fussing with the front of his tunic when the urge struck him. “If not, I can wait for you to go get them and pay for the rush, but the letter needs be sent today to have any effect” Berend hastily added when he realized that she might actually say no, thereby interrupting any and all plans of his. He was staring again, so he looked instead on the people whom didn’t seem intent on moving out of their way, so he’d walk a little closer to her, and start wondering if he should just do it right here. If he was favored, the side he was on would hold her purse, and then it would be an easy thing to lose himself in some possible throng of people up ahead. To do that though, he’d have to be sure her purse was there, and he had seen nothing that might have indicated that. His left hand went to the pouch tucked into the waist of his breeches, fishing out a gold miza he’d brought in hopes of making good use of it. “Its real enough too” He chuckled, holding it out to her to inspect. A miza well spent if his hopes were true.

[Shakune]

Shakune's eyebrows twitched upwards in mild surprise. "Today?" She repeated somewhat dumbly. She was not a suspicious individual - not at all - and yet her companion's suggestion that he required her services seemed altogether too... well timed. But then again, had it not been he that had started the conversation about her providing a scribe service? Indeed it had, at least as Shakune remembered their conversation, though she had most likely brought in the topic of her employment. So she had led the conversation in truth, not the male beside her. It could not be a stitch-up then, surely?

And yet the niggling sense of unease remained in the pit of her gut. Shakune had no doubt that her new acquaintance was some sort of criminal, a thief or pickpocket most likely. Could it be that he was selecting her as his victim? She wasn't naive enough to reject the idea, but at the same time it went against Shakune's general psyche to assume the worse of people.

She shrugged off the idea after several ticks of consideration. Physical belongings were not important to the woman. She was carrying nothing of true importance on her body right now: in her satchel, the two sheets of parchment she used for her courier service, a quill, and a collection of silver and copper coins. A thief would perhaps make sixty or so silver mizas off her if he stole her coins alone. The quill would be the most expensive item in her bag, and even this could be easily replaced.

Oh, petch it. She thought conclusively. If he was going to rob her, she may as well let him. A successful robbery or heist would boost his confidence, and after all the male had bought her a cider.

"I have the stuff." She said simply, reaching into her pocket and retrieving the papers and quill. She glanced momentarily at the gold coin he proffered, but did not take it. "I don't have an envelope though, does this matter?" The courier came to a slow stop, quill hovering over the parchment page at the ready to take his message.