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Alua considered Erix's question, her face scrunched up as she tried to think. It hadn't occurred to her to take Lupi on in any sort of permanent fashion. She tried reordering her brain to put Lupi in "potential workmate" category instead of "charitable rescue". Making sure the woman in question couldn't hear her, she said, "I don't know, she's pretty strange. I've never met an elf before who seemed so offended to be called anything other than a goblin."
A stray spirit drifted by her, and the oracle's attention wandered. Pulling herself back, she said, "On the other hand, who am I to judge? And she does have some useful magic."
Calling the new recruit forward, Alua asked, "Lupi, are you looking for work? You've proved yourself useful, and we can always use another set of hands. We run an investigative firm, so not all our cases are so...violent. Want to come back to the office with us and think about it?"
Nymm (June) 10, Zol (Tuesday), 998 YK
Sharn – City of Towers, Khorvaire
The next morning after your adventure to the Fallen came with an insistent drizzle that the southern winds bad blown in from the Sea of Thunder – hardly a rare happenstance but this time the rain didn’t come with a lowering of the temperatures and thus left the air almost stifling. This time, you were half-expecting the courier who came knocking on the Agency’s front door on the eight bell of morning, to deliver another message of an audience that had been approved by your most recent employer. The Huntmaster awaited your pleasure on the ninth bell of the morning, ensuring you had little time to waste in getting to the Pinnacle.
On the eve of Brightblade, the city was roaring with activity despite the hot and humid weather – while the greatest competitions of brawn and physique were scheduled for the day after tomorrow, the city had been slowly building up for the finale for several days now, with competitions and activities steadily increasing as the holy day of the Sovereign of Strength and Steel approached. And while the day of celebrations centered on Dol Dorn, the temple of his sister deity proved quite the hotbed of activity as well, as you learned upon your arrival to the administrative center of the church of the Sovereign of Horn and Hunt in Sharn. This time, you knew the way to the correct office and made it into the waiting room with barely a minute before due time – a small wonder, considering the congestion on the streets you had to navigate to make it all the way up to the district – to be greeted with one reproachfully raised eyebrow of the Huntmaster’s secretary, the one reserved for quests who didn’t arrive with time to spare.
Having shown his displeasure in that subtle manner he ushered you in the Huntmaster’s opulent office with hardly any wait at all. The powerful church official sat behind his desk and didn’t rise to greet you, but you noted that this time, a single chair had been placed before his desk for your convenience.
”I must commend you of the speed of delivery, I suppose,” Werem grunted, his voice sour. ”But the condition of the goods upon delivery did leave something to be desired. The beast was barely clinging to life, I hear. It will take some effort to get it presentable before the ritual. I have half a mind to charge you for the required ministrations, but I suppose it wasn’t part of our agreement, so I shall let it slide this time.”
”Now, about your reward,” the Huntmaster said, toying with a sizable pouch sitting on his table. ”Here’s the agreed-upon sum… unless, that is, you’d rather decide to take this instead,” he went on, taking out a sealed letter from a drawer and putting it down next to the pouch.
Alua's eyes widened in disbelief at the Huntsmaster's words. "Charge us for ministrations? Hold us accountable for damage taken by a creature that was captured in Xen'drik, drugged so repeatedly it became tolerant of the sedative, lost in Fallen, holed up in a tower full of undead it had to fight, and then attacked and beaten bloody by another group that you had hired without telling us? That was incredibly st..," she caught herself just in time, "dangerous. It set us at each other instead of working to capture your prize. For a few moments, there was a real chance that we'd kill each other, AND your beast."
Phin looked at the envelope and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Paper doesn't pay the bills and based on recent experience, it would be difficult to accept something on faith." The elf didn't want to outright say that they couldn't trust him based on how he'd hired multiple teams to do the same job but she danced around the issue. "Is there a reason for not telling us what's in the envelope?"
"Charge us for ministrations? Hold us accountable for damage taken by a creature that was captured in Xen'drik, drugged so repeatedly it became tolerant of the sedative, lost in Fallen, holed up in a tower full of undead it had to fight, and then attacked and beaten bloody by another group that you had hired without telling us? That was incredibly st..,"
Baran had been out of sorts all morning. He wanted very much to meet with his mentor and work through this horrible affair, but he didn't abandon his new crew. When during the meeting Werem started his thankless show of gratitude and was answered by Alua's frustration, the young man's eye came awake again. He stepped behind her with a little flush of pride. He was only a little glad she didn't go further.
"Is there a reason for not telling us what's in the envelope?"
'It must be of special importance to the agency ... if it were worth money or power he would have cashed it in for himself. Its' not as important to him as the coin he promised us anyway.' Baran tried to make his face look its' most unimpressed, "Well, it's at least easy to carry." He tried to hold back any show of curiosity. What would this buzzard think the agency would trade so easily for cold coinage?
Alua's eyes widened in disbelief at the Huntsmaster's words. "Charge us for ministrations? Hold us accountable for damage taken by a creature that was captured in Xen'drik, drugged so repeatedly it became tolerant of the sedative, lost in Fallen, holed up in a tower full of undead it had to fight, and then attacked and beaten bloody by another group that you had hired without telling us? That was incredibly st..," she caught herself just in time, "dangerous. It set us at each other instead of working to capture your prize. For a few moments, there was a real chance that we'd kill each other, AND your beast."
”I had no particular reason to believe you’d succeed, so I deemed it wise to hedge my bets by providing myself a backup plan,” the Huntmaster said, leaning back in his chair, clearly not overly concerned about hired help challenging him – not now when he had already got what he wanted. ”From what you just told it sounds like you both reached your target at the same moment? That was unexpected, I have to admit, but thankfully,” the way Werem said the word suggested you were the ones who should be thanking your lucky stars, ”the matter was resolved… adequately.”
Phin looked at the envelope and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Paper doesn't pay the bills and based on recent experience, it would be difficult to accept something on faith." The elf didn't want to outright say that they couldn't trust him based on how he'd hired multiple teams to do the same job but she danced around the issue. "Is there a reason for not telling us what's in the envelope?"
The Huntmaster smiled widely, clearly savoring the moment. ”Patience is a virtue, my dear. I do like to get to know the people who work for me, and while I didn’t have much time to run your backgrounds due to circumstances, my people did note one interesting thing – the fate of your poor companion and the original owner of your Agency. Manslaughter, of all things. How very… unfortunate,” the priest went on, leaning forward on his comfortable chair.
”Breaking rocks in the Blackcaps is not conductive to one’s good health. Certainly not when a grieving father unsatisfied to anything sort of capital punishment is added to the equation. Someone with both the money and the connections to ensure… an eventual fatal accident. A prison mine is a dangerous place, after all, with plenty of opportunities for a… careless or unlucky prisoner to fall into a deep hole or have a tunnel collapse on him.”
”But as it happens, I have connections of my own,” Werem said, toying with the letter. ”There have been times when I have found it convenient to have people I can trust in all sorts of places, and the place where your associate is serving his sentence is one such place. Written in this letter is the name and contact information of a reliable senior guard stationed in that very prison camp, a man who has proven his loyalty and capability to me over the years… a man who, for a suitable, modest monthly compensation, could ensure no such accidents take place, or at the very least diminish their chances of claiming your associate’s life. Now, information doesn’t come cheap, and letting you make use of this person’s services may bring him to the attention of the grieving father I mentioned, and I’d hate to risk losing his future services. But it would be cruel for me not to make you the offer.”
”So, which reward would you prefer?” he asked, a slight smile on his lips, weighting the heavy purse in one hand and the letter in the other.
Calling the new recruit forward, Alua asked, "Lupi, are you looking for work? You've proved yourself useful, and we can always use another set of hands. We run an investigative firm, so not all our cases are so...violent. Want to come back to the office with us and think about it?"
The others discussed something in hushed voices, but Lupi could hear a word 'goblin' mentioned. "They are discussing about me, obviously, I hope I did not screw things too badly", she thought.
When Alua came to ask Lupi to work for the firm she was surprised, "Me... sure... I mean... you saved my life, sure I want to help you out any way I can." and then followed the group to the office. She was feeling very positive about the group now, normally goblins were not treated that well, but the group clearly shared some kind of similar value that all races are equal.
Next day Lupi followed the others to Werem's office. She had not met Werem earlier, the business was then run by the boss of her earlier group. She did not know all the details about Sebastian, so she kept quiet on Werem's latest offer.
”So, which reward would you prefer?” he asked, a slight smile on his lips, weighting the heavy purse in one hand and the letter in the other.
I never thought my acquaintance to have sunk so low. So, not only is he most certainly wrongly imprisoned but the agency is to be blackmailed to assure his safety. It is true, poverty is the worst sort of violence. Baran stepped from behind and then around to Alua's left side. He nodded to her. He knew the agency's choices were a moot exercise and, as leader in this moment, she would need unconditional support. She had his trust. He even smiled lightly ... but in his head he was composing a lampoon of a covetous, wrenching, scraping, flatulent and impotent old man who ate money until one day he fell into a minting press and eventually given to the church as tithes.
Alua felt despair flood through her. How can I choose? We need the money to keep the office open. But how can that be more important than the Boss's life?!
Trying to keep her face neutral, Alua said, "That is valuable information, true. But perhaps not as valuable as 500 Galifers. After all, we have contacts of our own. I think we could agree to pay 200 Galifers for that information, leaving 300 of the reward money as compensation for the very sensitive and confidential task we performed for you."
Taking a deep breath and drawing on her inner reserve of persuasiveness, Alua tried to convince him of her compromise.
Looking at Alua in a consolatory manner, "We Have been plagued with poor luck I'm afraid. We did push hard. Thanks to you, Huntmaster Werem, for your generous commendation on the speed of our delivery. Had we a bit of luck we might have beat the support team you wisely sent. Unfortunately, we were struck with bad luck again and that very support team had already badly damaged your prize. I was surprised to see their lack of care after you had agreed to pay them so well - and only a four person team. They were not up to your good will. I hope you will take pity on us and aid with a small gratuity in addition to the letter. It's unfortunate no one could ever know of your generosity."
”Umm…” Werem mused, leaning back and scratching his beard as he considered Baran’s eloquent plea. It was true this amount of money mattered little to him, and that reminding his new employees who had the power and who did the jumping when the other shouted was the main point of this whole exercise. But it wasn’t as if he really cared what happened to their former associate in the prison camp – this Sebastian meant nothing at all to him, and while the grieving father in question had been an occasional opponent on various levels of the city’s administrative struggles, he wasn’t an important enough opponent to score points against by just giving out the information that might help thwart his dreams of revenge.
He did care of the safety of a valuable resource, however, and giving out the guard’s name to these people might turn him into a target, someone to be removed from the way of a father’s righteous vengeance on the killer of his son. Or presumed killer, at least – Weren’s agents had uncovered enough information to suggest this ir’Brock fellow might just have been someone convenient to shoulder the blame.
”Well spoken,” he said after a long silence. ”For having done a passable work, I will throw in another 50 Galifars – the same amount as I already gave you as advance payment – with the letter, if you decide to choose that as your reward.”