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Xaikon leaves the smithy, his mind working things over. The boy could be a useful tool, had been already. He seemed quite willing to turn on his father, to some extent. Even if everything went wrong, perhaps he could be turned to the tengu's purpose? It was worth a thought. Xaikon found the Apothecary and entered, careful to look for any interesting information that could tie this place to the mysterious holy man.
The tengu whistles appreciatively and says, "I think I have already met the great man in the family." Xaikon does wander around the smithy a bit, making friendly conversation about the tools and such he sees. After a bit he goes on, "You know, friend. I have some pull with the authorities, and some smarts about finding fakers and charlatans. I wouldn't mind putting your 'holy man' under my lens. He sounds very...fishy, as you say. Do you know where I could find him?"
Xaikon takes it in. There was something here, the boy was basically begging to be questioned. It was risky, tipping his hand before having all the facts but...that was how one gathered the facts. The tengu decides to throw the dice. "Must be a hard life," he ventures, "Living in the shadow of a retired master? Even if he is your father. I bet many like me simply ignore you to gaze in awe at the old masters fine works to ignore the more recent masterpieces?"
Xaikon's bright eyes sweep the smithy. He didn't know much about metal-working except skilled blacksmiths were in high demand in the Shackles. And Halgo was supposed to be the best. Perhaps this was an apprentice? "Greetings, young sir." Xaikon says, his high voice fluting gracefully, "How goes the day with you? I have traveled far, and could not pass without seeing the famed Steel Clad Giant. Your fame reaches many leagues." Xaikon pours on the flattery and takes the time to gauge the young man.
Xaikon nods, "Thank you friend. Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." he buys a drink or two for the man. "When you are a wandering merchant, you need the help of locals like yourself to keep in touch." The tengu does his best to nod, not easy with his short neck, and goes on, 'Anything else worth hearing out of the city? Anything interesting, perhaps a business chance or two? Anything a traveler should know before he goes in walking in the gates. Hate to be surprised by, gods forbid, a plague or a fire." he said, and piously bows his feathery head.
Xaikon drank in the information eagerly. Clearly the plan was working. The distraught smith was 're-united' with his dead wife. Now was the time to make an offer to the man, to entice him to his side. The tengu whistles a thanks to George and turns to Tobit, "What a wonderful inn you have here. Please, I'll take two rooms, one for my men and one for myself." After that he turns to his men and whispers, 'Get to sleep men. You stick out here like a sunflower on the deck of a ship. You'll have time to roister later, I promise you." He winks and sends the men off. Then he turns and tries to sit on the edge of the 'friends' by the fire. He listens but occasionally puts in a comment when appropriate, not rushing things.
Finally he brings the conversation back around to the smith at the Steel Clad Giant, 'So, friend, you know master Tewey well? I must admit, I am curious. I have heard stories but no little of the man himself. I'd greatly appreciate the words of someone who knows him." Xaikon lays on a bit of flattery.
Xaikon takes in the rather quaint scene. It is a far cry from the rough taverns of Quent, at least the ones that he frequented. This seemed a small slice of paradise. Xaikon had no time for such things himself of course, and he had a nasty tendency to take advantage of nice peoplem but tonight, he just needed peace and rest. And news, if he could get it. Xaikon bows, knowing that being tengu doesn't exactly help matters, saying 'Same to you. We are just merchants passing through to the city. We have been at sea for months and are hungry for news of any kind. I also have business at the Steel Clad Giant." He figures a bit of truth mixed in the lies might make it easier to swallow.
Is it possible you have enough space for my small group here and perhaps any news from the city?" He gestures to his crew to be on good behavior.
Xaikon takes in the jungle dusk, the crying of the birds, the croaking of the frogs and the ever=present whine of the biting insects. Looking at his few men he nods to himself and says, 'We head into town and find an Inn. We need news and good ale, not a night fighting off snakes and centipedes. Stay sharp men, some unlucky chaps might pick us for easy outlanders." he whistles ironically.
Xaikon's feather rustled in the light breeze, sending a cascade of colors. Interesting place. Perhaps a base of operations for himself? It was tempting, with the wharves and buildings already made. It was a bit close to Rapier Bay though, too close for serious work. Still, he would have to have his scrivener track it down. The fact that this man still got paid hinted at a paper trail. For now.... Xaikon directed the men to tie up here. He lowers his voice to Melchoir, "Captain, leave a few stout lads here. Give them orders that if anything happens, anything to set sail and meet us in Rapier Bay. I'm not losing the Roost to some backwards jungle bandits. I'd rather risk the levy task then the ship. Otherwise, we all go overland to Rapier Bay. All right?"
Xaikon nods to himself. That hadn't gone too badly. The bribe had kept Jackson on the friendly enough side, which was a nice side-effect. He needed more money though, and soon. He glanced skyward and saw Omen circling above, as usual. The tengu envied his pet's flight, it would be a great help in avoiding sandbars... Soon his musings broke off as he saw the newly assembled pier and buildings. Xaikon stared at it long and hard. Was it a pirate's den? A rival attempt at a city? Perhaps Jackson hadn't been joking when he said the levies were high. Maybe someone wanted to create a rival port? In any case, it might be just what he needed. Or a trap. Xiakon takes the Roost in, waving back to the man. When they get close enough he shouts, "Ahoy! Where is this and can I tie up here?" He mutters to the crew. "Stay sharp boys..."
Xaikon whistled lowly. He was being taken for a ride here, but that didn't have to be the end of the world. A little smooth talk might get them out of this, that a little gold. The tengu takes 10 gold coins and wraps them. "I am not heading toward Rapier Bay, I have business in Lilywhite. But I'd hate you to waste your time fully out here." He throws the little bag of coins to the pompous captain. "Something for your time." Turning around and speaking lowly, "Take us back out to sea, captain. We'll enter the city overland. We can't fight this whole lot." Turning back he shouts, "Anything else required?"
Xaikon crowed in triumph as the ship let free and slid back into the water. 'A ration of rum for every man tonight, Captain!" He turns back to the business at hand however, keeping an eye on the two ships nearbye. "Resume course, Captian. Keep an eye for shoals, have a leadsmen sent for, make sure he don't run her aground again." The tengu was quite curious what was unfolding just a short distance away.
Xaikon peers at the rowboat, trying to figure out what si going on.
But he had his ship to save. He turns back to the Captain. 'Drop the sails, and get the men all on deck. We don't need more weight and we don't want that wind pushing us onto the shoal even more." The tengu curses mildly, while he looks at the ship. Then he sings out some more orders "More all the weight to the stern, quickly now. All ballast, water, food, everything, even the sailors. We want as much weight off the center of the keel as possible. We'll try to drag ourselves off. Load the anchor in the johnboat and drop it in deeper water. Hook up the chain to the windlass and anything else we got. And we'll pull ourselves off. Now, look lively! I still have an appointment with those ships out there. Get to it!" Xaikon fully plans on helping haul the ship off the ledge, even if he isn't very muscular. Spirit of the thing.
Xaikon curses as they run aground. He was a sitting duck now, if that ship was dangerous. But then again, perhaps they were trying to warn him? For all the good a pilot would do him now. In any case, he had a ship to keep afloat here. 'Captain, check the bilges. Make sure we didn't spring anything. And send a few men to take soundings. Find out how deep we are, and if it is mud or rock out there. I want answers sharpish!" he barks, then turns to stare at the light ship. He wouldn't signal until he knew how bad of a situation they were in.
Xaikon laughs, 'Of course Captian, I'm not blind. I just wanted to know if you think, if things go south and they run, if we could catch them. Like I said, I fancy some visitors. Anyway, take us up along side, but stay sharp. It may be a trap." He looks hard at the ship and then adds, "Signal, we reply in the affirmative."
Xaikon narrows his eyes. Ustalav? That was a landlocked country...and then the flag switched to Geb. Tengu don't grin but he whistled deeply, the same thing. A nervous small ship? He turns and shouts up the Captain Melchoir, 'Can we catch them, Captain? I have a fancy for some visitors." He turns back, looking at the distance between the two ships.
Xaikon sits stunned over the chest for a few moments as he processes the windfall. Then he straightens, looks tot he heavens and prays silently, "Oh Reaper of Reputations. You have favored your servant. I thank you for this chance and even if it contains poisoned barbs, make me worthy to it." After that dutiful moment passe,s he cackles like a young tengu who found a bit of candy. These flags would make his plans much easier. He grabs the chest with him as he climbs up deck, and spots the sail. It is distant, far out on the still active sea.
He keeps his new flag kit close, in case he needs it.
The tengu's beady eyes narrowed on the chest. He had an innate love of puzzles and mechanisms but not that great a skill at opening. As with most of his race, his curiosity outstripped his skills. Still, with the ship running tight, he had the time. Turning to the chest, he gets out a set of thieves tools, and sets to work.
Xaikon tapped his talons on the ship's rail as he considered the two letters. After so long, things were moving quickly now. It was wonderful to watch. Which string to pull first....? As he ponders, he shreds the two letters very finely and lets the tiny bits drift down into the lively sea. Never can be to careful, even with a trusted crew. But the choice was easy. Bogsbridge would have to wait, along with Lilywhite. It was time to start building an organization and that required talent. ”We make for Rapier Bay, Captain. Run as quick as we are able, we have an appointment to keep.” The words were sweet to his ears, after years of running place. He kept an imperious, judging eye on the crew as they went about their business. It did them good to have a stern eye on them, sometimes. Being the ship's master, it was part of his job to put the fear of the gods in them. He stalked the ship fore and aft, his beady eyes prying everywhere, his light feet avoiding the piles of rope and canvas strewn about.
Tired though he was, Xaikon stood at the prow and took a deep lungful of the salty, sea air. As always the briny, seaweed laden scent revived him. It had been a long night, making the Fortunes' Roost ready for another voyage. All sorts of things always came up between trips ranging from the mundane, a new coat of paint, some minor rope replacements, to the serious, checking for sprung timbers and replacing major items. But the issues had been slight, which is why Xaikon, this morning,m had a ship begging to be released into the rollicking, playful seas. The tengu turned to Captain Melchoir, eyeing this trusted individual. ”Anything else to report from the last voyage, Captain?' Xaikon asks, 'Anything I need to know before we set out on a long term cruise around the island?”
Sorry about the delay. Won't happen again.
Xaikon eyes Kolzee with distaste. The man was a fool, and worse, one that thought he would be an easy mark. he would need to be...punished for such insolence. "Forget this. You obviously are not a real dealer. I'd be better off going to see those drunk fellows." Xaikon rolls his eyes but gets up and goes over to them exaggerating it insultingly to Kolzee. Hiding in plain sight, indeed. When he comes up to Bargs he speaks quickly and quietly at first, "The elf and half-orc. Work them over, outside. Be rough, but no blood. The elf has some drugs on him, take them and bring them to me. Don't be obvious about who you work for. Meet you at the ship." After that he slams his fist on the table, 'Bah, a pack of drunks! This town keeps getting worse." His anger is fake and sarcastic, even to Kolzee. With that Xaikon goes out into the night, pausing outside to see if he can hear any commotion from his lads inside.
Will post tonight!
The tenements held no terror for Xaikon as he traveled into the poorer districts of Quent. He grew up in a place very much like them, in Port Peril. From one Shackles city to another, the fringe lived mostly the same way. Just as he is about to duck into the Drunken Parrot, the tengu sees a fluttering dark shape, black against the night settle on the tavern sign. Xaikon stops and looks up, cawing slightly. An answering crow echoes down. ”Hello, Omen. Are you having a nice night ashore?” he says up to the perched raven. The jet-black bird cocks it's head and says, ”Ashore!”. Xaikon laughs and says, ”Just be sure to stay close, we'll be putting out again soon. I hope.” he adds, quietly and vanishes into the warm, well-lit tavern. He listens to the prattle of the annoying drug dealing elf. Gods he hated his habit at times like these. Shame and disgrace, a weakness. Not only was it expensive, taking time and energy from his plans, it made him waste time on people like...like this. Cutting through the annoying blather, Xaikons peaks up when the barmaid walks away. 'Miss? Ignore this man here. A round of drinks for everyone in the house. My apologizes for this...individual.” He turns back to the elf, speaking harshly. For all of his strong words though, his hands shake, his eyes water and his brain rattles at the sight of all that Pesh. ”First, shut up. I'm here to buy Pesh, not listen to your life story. Second, never mention Shadraq outloud in my presence again. Ever. Got that? Third and finally, be an ass on your own time. Tonight, before you leave, you are going to leave a very generous tip for this place of business. If you don't, I'll hear about it, and then we'll have another little chat and I'll b doing the talking, got it?” He pauses, hating himself for his weakness but adding, 'I'll take two doses of the yellow. And tell your bodyguard there to ease up, I'm not going to hurt you. Tonight.” the tengu adds, waving at the orc at the dealer's side.
Xiakon followed Scratchling into the dimly lit office Shadraq always kept. Visiting the fecthling also called a strange mixture of comfort, for the office was always exactly the same, and revulsion for the office's actual contents. The tengu delicately avoids touching anything in the room,a s always. The fetchling was very finicky about such things. As Shadraq pulls up a chair, Xaikon speaks, his voice sounded a bit harsh compared to the greasy undertones of the scrivener. 'Yes, it is always glad to be back in Quent. Port Peril was it's usual pretentious self. The Pirate Councilw as meeting and the usual pomp and circumstance was in full force.' Xaikon lets out a small whistle, the tengu equivalent of a sigh. He turns a gleaming eye on the desiccated rodents and shudders inwardly. Tengu were famous for their varied eating habits but Shadraq's meals would but anyone off their food. He is happy when the homunculus takes the plate out of immediate view. He taps a feathered hand on the thick table as the scrivener catches him up on affairs in Quent. When the fecthling is done, Xaikon nods ”Excellent. As always, your knowledge is impeccable. I'll go have a talk with Melchior. The time is coming, Shadraq. Change is in the air, and not just in Quent. We'll need everything running ship shape, at sea and on land. I know I can rely on you. But I have many appointments it seems, I'll let you get back to your meal.” The tengu gets up then, as if just remembering, turns back, his muted feathers glittering faintly in the dim light. ”Do you have any contacts with the treasure hunters in town?” Xaikon asks rhetorically, knowing Shadraq probably knows every last one. ”Keep tabs on them. Get me the names of some of the best. It may prove quite vital. And please, try to avoid the ones most likely to try and double-cross me and leave me in the jungle. I don't have time for that nonsense. Again, enjoy your meal.” As he leaves, the tengu does the sign of leaving, just as formally and respectfully. It was rare that Xaikon could openly partake of his faith's more obvious actions, and he enjoyed it when he could. Xaikon, with a mix of reluctance and pleasure, leaves the stifling, foul smelling scrivener’s office. The fresh, if jungle-laden air of Quent is refreshing after that. Xaikon ponders his priorities for a second. Seeing Melchior is vital, getting an update on the Roost is key to his plans. Yes, Melchior it is, no doubt. Everyone else can wait. But before he can stop himself, his finds his legs taking him toward the Drunken Parrot and more pesh. Xaikon curses his weakness, as he makes his way among the beggars, fighters and revelers in nighttime Quent. The drug was becoming a problem. For the hundred time he made a vow to try and cut back a little, for the upcoming plan....He is still making these vows when he finds the Parrot
Xiakon walks up the main street, his talons lightly clicking off the odd cobblestone. The lowering sunset dulls the tengu's colorful plumage until it is just a haze of shimmering colors, not the rainbow of iridescent plumage it usually is. A heavy black cloak hides it even more thoroughly from prying eyes. A belt, with many punches hung low on his belt, as well as a set of sharp blades. This hardly stuck out on the tough streets on Quent, doubly after sunset where a man's life was often worth his speed with a blade. The rogue takes a deep breath of the fetid, humid air of the city, rolling off the jungle. He always liked Quent. Sure, he had spent some rough years here, but formative ones, ones that made him the tengu he was today. Port Peril was bigger, sure, with bigger pockets but I had a sense of...insecurity. Hoping to be something it wasn't. Quent, knew exactly what it was and embraced it. A dog eat dog city, with a devil take the hindmost attitude. It appealed to Xaikon and he never doubted making this city his home for these past years. But tonight he moved quickly through the streets, with an easy confidence. Tonight he needed information, he needed to know what was happening and he needed to know where his ship was. He needed the scrivener. His pace quickened and revealed some of his nervousness. He strode past the beggars and dilapidated Inns, all familiar landmarks to him. He makes his way to the scrivener's office, and taps on the door. He wonders if the scrivener is still awake and hopes so. He usually kept strange hours and it was odd when Xiakon didn't find him awake, going over this report or that tough. The scrivener had his hands in every pie in Quent, or so it was said. He was invaluable, even more so on a night like tonight.
Not many Tengu avatars to choose from... |
