73rd Spring, 515 AV – East Street
It was a sight which she had not expected to see upon her usual morning walk, something which in point of fact filled her with a deep sense of unease. She had seen schemers, lawyers, double-dealings and laundering of gold that sought to undermine the city and those she was was employed by. She was hazy on the last two points but Anelda had been quite instructive, in her own way, that anything untoward should be reported because they were in the business of maintaining good governance. She was still unclear on how such things fit into her work, she was a novice at politics, but she trusted Anelda as far as she could throw her and that was more than most people had managed to achieve with her throughout her life.
She certainly has helped me more than most, for her own ends of course but still...she is worth some respect and appreciation. But this...this could be bad. Could turn ugly. Fast she told herself as she approached cautiously, keeping to the side of the streets and the morning shadows where possible.
As she got closer she noted that she was, in point of fact, not hallucinating. There, in the middle of the street, was a neat little pile of what appeared to be kegs and alcohol stores of varying kinds. It was early, early enough that she was the first upon the scene. She noted that none of them had been opened yet and the bottles in the racks filled all of the slots and thus none had been there to steal them away. She looked every which way she could, there were no law enforcers here. Likely they were busy with the rising of the day, she awoke early these days as her schedule demanded it. The fact that she had a day off this day didn't change the waking Bells. She sniffed and took what opportunity she had before it was contaminated beyond reason. There was a scent of strong cloves around some of the barrels, she knew not what that meant but dutifully committed it to memory.
“So...someone leaves this here. Knowing that as soon as it is found word spreads and the evidence is drunk and disappears. Bottle remain, kegs might remain. Enough to note the name of the merchant. Or merchants. Wait....that's interesting” she muttered as she clambered about and looked at the stamps upon the wood.
“They're all the same” she whispered to herself, “so someone wants to either send a message or give a very bad day to someone specific?” she wondered to herself as she circled them.
There were no footprints, the spot had been chosen well and no evidence remained of the perpetrators. She pulled one of the parchment stamps off of one of the crates and folded it before slipping it into her pocket. It could become useful very quickly indeed. Licking her lips she pulled a bottle of wine from an opened crate and peered at the top. It was corked and the wax was unbroken, she could see no evidence of tampering. She was, perhaps, being paranoid and looking a gift horse in the mouth but she was wont to be a careful sort. You never knew when a nice little trap was being set. Yet...she did not feel that about this incident. It seemed isolated but senses tingled and told her it probably was not, given the singular merchant involved. She counted them all, imprinting the numbers and types upon her mind. Someone, somewhere, would know where this came from. From there it could be trackable.
“Here! Everyone! Booze in the streets! BOOZE IN THE STREETS! Sailor's dream!” came the shouts.
She sighed and knew that now, for better or worse, her time as up and the party would begin.
oocSo! Here we are as promised. Ignore Zand's personal thoughts and paranioa,. Get stuck in all ye revellers!
One rule – keep posting order. If the next person has not posted within a week go ahead and post yours next. Be courteous to other writers. And have fun!
*rolls the kegs down the street*
It was a sight which she had not expected to see upon her usual morning walk, something which in point of fact filled her with a deep sense of unease. She had seen schemers, lawyers, double-dealings and laundering of gold that sought to undermine the city and those she was was employed by. She was hazy on the last two points but Anelda had been quite instructive, in her own way, that anything untoward should be reported because they were in the business of maintaining good governance. She was still unclear on how such things fit into her work, she was a novice at politics, but she trusted Anelda as far as she could throw her and that was more than most people had managed to achieve with her throughout her life.
She certainly has helped me more than most, for her own ends of course but still...she is worth some respect and appreciation. But this...this could be bad. Could turn ugly. Fast she told herself as she approached cautiously, keeping to the side of the streets and the morning shadows where possible.
As she got closer she noted that she was, in point of fact, not hallucinating. There, in the middle of the street, was a neat little pile of what appeared to be kegs and alcohol stores of varying kinds. It was early, early enough that she was the first upon the scene. She noted that none of them had been opened yet and the bottles in the racks filled all of the slots and thus none had been there to steal them away. She looked every which way she could, there were no law enforcers here. Likely they were busy with the rising of the day, she awoke early these days as her schedule demanded it. The fact that she had a day off this day didn't change the waking Bells. She sniffed and took what opportunity she had before it was contaminated beyond reason. There was a scent of strong cloves around some of the barrels, she knew not what that meant but dutifully committed it to memory.
“So...someone leaves this here. Knowing that as soon as it is found word spreads and the evidence is drunk and disappears. Bottle remain, kegs might remain. Enough to note the name of the merchant. Or merchants. Wait....that's interesting” she muttered as she clambered about and looked at the stamps upon the wood.
“They're all the same” she whispered to herself, “so someone wants to either send a message or give a very bad day to someone specific?” she wondered to herself as she circled them.
There were no footprints, the spot had been chosen well and no evidence remained of the perpetrators. She pulled one of the parchment stamps off of one of the crates and folded it before slipping it into her pocket. It could become useful very quickly indeed. Licking her lips she pulled a bottle of wine from an opened crate and peered at the top. It was corked and the wax was unbroken, she could see no evidence of tampering. She was, perhaps, being paranoid and looking a gift horse in the mouth but she was wont to be a careful sort. You never knew when a nice little trap was being set. Yet...she did not feel that about this incident. It seemed isolated but senses tingled and told her it probably was not, given the singular merchant involved. She counted them all, imprinting the numbers and types upon her mind. Someone, somewhere, would know where this came from. From there it could be trackable.
“Here! Everyone! Booze in the streets! BOOZE IN THE STREETS! Sailor's dream!” came the shouts.
She sighed and knew that now, for better or worse, her time as up and the party would begin.
oocSo! Here we are as promised. Ignore Zand's personal thoughts and paranioa,. Get stuck in all ye revellers!
One rule – keep posting order. If the next person has not posted within a week go ahead and post yours next. Be courteous to other writers. And have fun!
*rolls the kegs down the street*