PF_GM_23 |
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It's roughly an hour short of noon and the Otari Fishery is quite a different place from the raucous gathering hall that it was the night before. Last night, the building was filled with the indistinguishable chatter of dozens of patrons, all partaking of one of the varied entertainments that the proprietor offers every night. Games of chance and skill, a couple of bards competing to be heard above the noise (and each other, naturally), and plenty of food and drink.
And tucked away in a relatively peaceful corner, a table with the six of you seated around it--and one crocodile napping beneath, resulting in more than one nervous glance to check its position relative to one's feet--with a complimentary meal and round of drinks spread out before you. The Fishery's owner, Tamily Tanderveil, was quite insistent that you all get to know each other before taking on the job that she was offering. Something about forging bonds that would make you more effective as a team or some such. You're not quite sure how that'll work out, but you at least managed to learn each other's names, and you got a free meal in the process!
Now, however, the main floor is all business. Tables that held games and drinks have been returned to their intended purpose of processing fish, and a steady stream of the day's early catch is already being handled. Scaling, cleaning, and then off to be sold directly in the market or prepared for shipment elsewhere. The air is already thick with the smell of fish, blood, and offal, and you can only give thanks to the divine that it's not one of Otari's humid days, when those smells combine with air that's almost thick enough to chew to make for a truly miserable experience.
But your musing on the hardships of working in the Fishery is interrupted by the steady wood-on-wood *thump* of the Fishery's owner approaching. A short, red-haired human woman of middle-age, with a face bearing a generous scattering freckles and deep-set laugh lines, her most noticeable feature--because she makes an obvious effort to draw attention to it--would be the surprisingly fashionable-looking wooden peg that replaces her left leg from just below the knee. It's the sound of this peg hitting the floor that produces the distinctive sound that catches your attention, and while the prosthetic doesn't visibly interfere with her stride, Tamily does have the rolling gait of someone who's spent more time on the deck of a ship at sea than on dry land.
Not one to waste time on casual chitchat when there's things that need handling, Tamily immediately launches into a brief explanation of why you're all here. "Right, so let me start off by thanking you all, again, for answering when I asked around for some help with this problem of mine." Gesturing with one hand for you to follow, she turns and makes her way to a stairwell heading down, where she leans on the railing and points to the stairs as she resumes speaking.
"And the problem is that I've had my stocks of fish going missing for nearly a month now. A few other things as well, like ships' biscuits, salted meat, and pickled vegetables, but mostly the fish. It started out small at first, enough so that I thought it was just an increase in the population of the usual vermin that I have to deal with. No problem, just put out more bait and traps, maybe hire a ratter to get down there and have a look, right?" The question is clearly rhetorical, because she doesn't wait for an answer from any of you. "But then the loses started increasing, far beyond what any vermin infestation could be responsible for. Thought it might have been the local lightfingers having a go, but their boss swears up and down that it's no doing of theirs, and that no outsiders have been practicing their trade either."
Now the woman's expression shifts of a deep frown, and her tone changes as well, thick with frustration. "Tried to get Captain Longsaddle to assign a few of the guard to have a look down there, but he says it's not going to happen, not sooner or later. He's got nearly every man and woman in armor out protecting the loggers from whatever's giving them grief lately, and the scant remainder working double time to keep Otari protected. Not a body, warm or cold, to spare on his end." As she says this, the frown eases into something closer to what is almost certainly her natural expression of good humor. "But fortunately, I've got more than a few friends here and there, good folks who know other good folks willing to lend a hand. And that's you lot."
Stepping away from the railing, she leans over and pats the lizardfolk on one arm with a friendly smile. "Now Rik'tik here was all set to get down there and have a look for me, but I managed to convince him to wait. Not that I don't doubt he's quite capable, especially with Grasz there helping out," she adds while dipping her head in the direction of the crocodile at the lizardfolk's feet. "But the sheer volume of stock that I'm losing suggests to me that's it's more than what one person and one crocodile can safely handle. So, that's the job then. Go down there, find out what's taking my fish and whatever else I've lost, put a stop to the taking any way that you can, and then come back to tell me about it and collect your pay."
Tamily's expression shifts once more, now serious with a faint hint of regret. "And I'm really sorry to tell you this, but I'm not going to be able to go any higher than the 10 measures (Absalom gold coin) that I've already offered each of you. Between what I've lost in sales from the missing stock and what I'll have to spend on my contribution for the upcoming Founder's Day Festival, I can't afford any more than that right now." With that said, she looks each of you in the eyes in turn and awaits your decision to proceed with the job or back out.
While the Founder's Day Festival as whole celebrates Otari's founding, the events themselves typically celebrate one or the other of the three founders, and their lost comrade for whom the town was named, specifically. Contests dedicated to Vol Rajani or Otari Ilvashti are physical in nature while those celebrating Zarmavdian are for more cerebrally-inclined participants, and Aesephna Menhemes is honored by contests of either sort.