The Shell Game (Open)

[Avari]

Avari hurried through the crowds, throwing a glance over either shoulder every few minutes to make sure no one was paying attention to her or looking askance at her. She didn't really expect that anyone would be following her, as she thought she had conducted her first attempt at the shell game rather well and hadn't antagonized anyone too much. Nevertheless, it never hurt to keep an eye out for any people who might be unhealthily interested in a Konti running a get-rich-quick game and walking away with a tidy handful of mizas. Certainly, it wasn't as though Avari were the only opportunist lurking in the streets of Zeltiva.

It's a good thing no one seemed to question me too much, she thought gleefully. Well, aside from that young fellow who was looking at me oddly. Still, you would think more people would be suspicious. A mind-reading, second-sighted fortune-teller tossing the shells? I wouldn't have put any money down for that, but they came running to me without a qualm in the world!

Gently, but persistently, she pushed through the crowds. Her progress was slow, but she didn't wish to appear as though she needed to hurry too urgently. Instead of jostling for position, Avari contented herself with tugging her hat tighter down on her head and draping her drab cloak more closely around her shoulders in an attempt at camouflage.

When she reached the end of the docks, the Konti squeezed between two cargo wagons stopped in the middle of the road by a group of rowdy dock workers crossing the street. She experienced a moment of alarm when the wagon in front began moving, but managed to dart through before the second wagon started following. Without slowing down, she hurried into a noisome alley between two lodging houses that catered to sailors looking for cheap accommodations. The smell of rank garbage nearly drove her back out of the alley, but Avari resolutely pinched her nose tight. Breathing through her mouth, she made her way deeper into the alleyway and around the back of one of the lodging houses, where the offensive odor was a little less pervasive.

Wrinkling her nose nonetheless, Avari cautiously eased herself into a comfortable squatting position above the ground. For certain, no one would come into this alleyway unless they really, truly had to, she decided with satisfaction. She was just about to unfasten her purse, now a little fuller thanks to the mizas won from the shell game, and examine its contents, when the noise of approaching footsteps made her freeze.

Without thinking about it, she shot to her feet and put one hand on the hilt of a throwing dagger. The Konti looked around herself warily, unsure whether to try and slink away, to run outright, or to confront whoever was approaching.

Who would have followed her into this place? What business could anyone have with her? Or were this mysterious follower not here for her? Was there going to be trouble?

[Paragon]

"I'd let go of the knife, if I were you," Phillipe said darkly, turning into the alley and staring the Konti rogue down. To most Zeltivans, she would have been impossible to chase down. She had skill in stealth, blending into the crowds, moving quickly but lightly. However, Phillipe was better. And this girl would soon find out why. "You're a clever one. You acted just outside of everyone's vision, but right under their noses. And you cut loose when you're winning - smart. Real smart." He smirked, folding his arms. The confusion was evident on her face, yet she didn't speak - she didn't try to immediately defend herself. It seemed like... she'd never been caught before. "I'm not going to force you. That would defeat the object of this. But there's someone I want you to meet. Someone you should meet." He smiled at her again, his charm overcoming his youth. "Even if you're just a little curious, you'll follow me. But I can't make you. You can turn around and walk away, and you can forget you ever saw my face." He walked right past her in the alley, determination in his step. He didn't look back. He didn't wonder if she'd follow or not. He already knew the answer.

[Avari]

Avari's jaw dropped when she saw Philippe enter the narrow, stinking alleyway she had chosen as a hideout. His brief, enigmatic, but strangely compelling message was all the more impressive for the simple fact that he was there, in front of her, when she had done her best to lose herself in the crowd and yet still hadn't managed to elude him somehow. Nor had her tricks with the shell game fooled him any, it seemed. If she had known he was such a skillful and perceptive man from the beginning, Avari would have packed up and left as soon as she'd seen him coming.

Yet, for all that he had seen through her scam, Philippe apparently hadn't come to shout recriminations at her, demand his money back, or threaten to drag her off to Zeltiva's legendarily horrible prison. No, he was here to praise her and to invite her. The shock of it all made Avari blink rapidly and shake her head, trying to clear her mind.

Despite her wariness, the Konti had to admit that she was curious. Slowly, she ran his last few words over in her mind and came to her decision. Closing her money pouch and tying it securely at her waist, beneath the grey cloak that served so many purposes for her, Avari rose to her feet and fell into step behind Philippe.

"If you are taking me into a trap," she said conversationally, raising her voice for Philippe to hear her, "I hope you will not forget that I am behind you and that I do have a knife or two on me. Believe me when I say I know how to use them, too. If you mean me harm, then I assure you that you will be the first to die."

It was a bluff, of course, but Avari didn't want this cocksure young man to think she was entirely without weapons or protection of her own. Philippe didn't have to know that, while she did know how to use her throwing daggers somewhat well, they were nearly useless in close combat. Nor did he need to know that if she were truly in danger, she would much rather run away than trust to her skill with a blade. He only needed to recognize that she wasn't a naïve, trusting little lamb to follow him blindly or a helpless, shrinking violet either.

Keeping this in mind, the Konti resisted the impulse to huddle furtively beneath her cloak, but tried to walk with her back regally straight and her head held high. Even her stride took on a jaunty, forthright quality. She wanted to project an image of fearless confidence. Any close observer, though, would have seen how her eyes gave her the lie, how they darted and flickered nervously from side to side trying to watch everything all at once, peering after every shadow and glancing down every alleyway in search of possible threats and escape routes.

"Otherwise," she went on tranquilly, trying to sound careless, "lead on mister Philippe, or whatever your name is. Take me to whomever it is that I have to meet."

[Paragon]

"Devilishly skilled as you are sly," he muttered, still refusing to turn back, even at her threats, "just call me Phillipe." He smiled half to himself, imagining the Konti's worry and curiosity. In fact, it was lucky he had found her, rather than the Watchmen. The place he was taking her... it was surely better than a cold, dark cell. "I'm a scout of sorts, Konti," he began, "I scout out candidates for my boss." He didn't say any more, turning down another alley, and eventually coming to a dark, blue door, mottled with time. He tapped the fraying wood with his knuckle three times, paused, then tapped again. He waited for the familiar question. "Where have you been?" a voice from inside asked. "Eight lengths of the dock, round the Laviku Monument, and up the Astronomy Tower." He was grinning as he recited the answer he had spoken so often. The door lurched open, and Phillipe beckoned the girl into the darkness. "Don't be frightened, I'll lead the way," he winked at her, "and besides. If you get scared, you can hold my hand."

[Avari]

Despite her wary nervousness, Avari called upon her internal reserves of hauteur and pride to give the smirking Philippe her best scornful, contemptuous sneer, the sort that she imagined the fabled Empress of Alahea might have shown toward the mud clinging to the bottom of her jeweled slipper. The young man deserved it for his constant winking and leering, not to mention pulling that fast one on her by pretending to be an ordinary mark when in fact he was serving a scout for something -- or someone -- more important and powerful. Suggesting that she'd need to hold his hand! What nerve!

"Hmph," she snorted, crossing her arms across her chest and sweeping past Philippe with a haughty lift of her small chin. "No amount of fear will ever make me want to get that close to you, sir. I don't want to know any more about you than I already do."

Then, with the bravado that had gotten her into so much trouble on Konti Isle, Avari marched forward into the darkness beckoning through the open door. She was determined to show that she wasn't afraid of Philippe or whomever he served, even if they did have secret codes and passwords that suggested a large and well-ordered organization. Somehow, it seemed that she had caught the attention of a group of criminals who had done so well for themselves that they had their own building. The Konti dared not show fear or weakness here, not when confronting something completely unknown.

She immediately paid the price for her show of boldness when she walked straight into the person who had presumably been standing at the door, demanding passwords from people. Thrown off-balance by the collision, Avari couldn't catch herself or regain her balance in time when the floor beyond the open door became a flight of descending stairs. Before she knew what had happened, Avari's foot missed a step, her heart skipped a beat, and she went tumbling down the stairs head over heels. It was only a few minutes before she finally rolled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, but to Avari it felt like an eternity. In the murky darkness, she slowly climbed to her feet with a groan, feeling bruises forming on her knees, elbows, and possibly the top of her forehead.

"Ooof," she mumbled, dusting off her breeches. "Why wasn't there a sign there warning people about stairs..."

Avari flushed red when she heard the muffled laughter of Philippe and the guardian of the door floating down the stairs. Averting her face, she busied herself with patting down her hair and straightening her clothing while the young man took his time coming down the shadowed stairs. She gingerly touched the tender spot on her forehead, before minutely checking her thin canvas gloves for tears or rips that might need immediate mending.

"I'm still not holding your hand," she informed Philippe shortly, once he had joined her at the bottom of the stairs. With a magnanimous air, she added, "But this time, you can lead the way. Take me to your boss, please, or whoever it is that's interested in me."

[Paragon]

"And to think I said you were devilishly sly..." Phillipe said with a crescent smirk. After her stumble, the Konti took the rear, expecting him to lead the way. He shook his head with a light chuckle, then began to ascend the stairs. They were metal, clanging beneath his boots as they walked. There wasn't far too go, and when they reached the top, Avari seemed to hold back apprehensively. "Nothing to be scared of, Miss Konti," Phillipe said, with a little more care than his last bout of words, "nothing at all." And then he knocked on the first door they walked past in the upper floor corridor. There was a gruff reply, the word unintelligible, and Phillipe opened it and strode right in. Avari hung back still. "Boss," he said, with a little flourish of his hands, like every good showman. "When you will grow out of the theatrics?" the man sitting at the other end of the room asked with a laugh. It was not a malicious laugh at all, merely a joke. The man sat at a small wooden writing desk, papers and small sealed boxes around him. He wrote by candle light, the short wick flickering on the desk beside him. He was a bald man, and rather large in size. His features were more jovial than intimidating however. "You must be the girl Phillipe told me about," the man said with a grin, "he speaks highly of your... skills." He pulled the cork out of the top of a glass drink vial at the side of the desk, spinning on his chair to pull glasses from the cupboard behind. "Drink?"

[Avari]

Avari's eyes went wide as Philippe opened the door to reveal a small pool of candlelight in the room beyond, illuminating a small writing desk and the gleaming bald pate of the man seated behind it. While he and Philippe exchanged bantering pleasantries, she lingered at the threshold, unable to conceal her surprise at the unexpected sight. After all of Philippe's sly little hints about a boss who wanted to meet her, the Konti hadn't been sure what to expect, but she had thought his mysterious boss would look a bit more impressive than this large, genial-faced man who looked more like a merchant or businessman than anything. She tried to make out the man's face in the dim, flickering light, to see if it was someone she might recognize, but to no avail.

What she wanted most of all at this moment was time - time to think, to gather her thoughts, and to tap into her powers of Divination to figure out what sort of man this boss of Philippe's was. Everything was moving just a little too quickly for Avari, from the docks to the alleyway to this shadowy building with the blue door. She did not have the luxury of time, though. If she hesitated too long, that grin would surely turn into an angry glare, which would mean nothing but ill for her while she was in his territory.

Forcing her body to move, she stepped over the threshold and came to stand on one side of Philippe. Her eyes never left the large, bald man's face, still trying to match it to something from her memories.

"No drink for me, thank you," she said as levelly as she could manage. "I do appreciate your hospitality, but I'm sure Mister Philippe didn't bring me here for a social visit."

She kept her face composed and her voice steady, which made her feel a little proud of herself. Her throat did feel a touch dry, especially after all that talking in the morning and the walking -- and falling down the stairs -- this afternoon. However, Avari wasn't about to trust whatever drink a stranger was about to offer her. At best, it would be kelp beer, which she had tried once and vowed never to drink again; at worst, it might be some unfamiliar or even tainted alcohol, which would only hinder her at a time when she needed all her wits about her.

"You make it sound as though Philippe has spoken of me before," she went on, "but as far as I can tell, I've only met him just today when he started placing bets on my shell game. I don't see how he could've gotten word to you about my humble little game between then and now."

Her eyelids flickered a little. "That is, unless your man here is a much quicker runner than he looks. Or unless you've been watching me practice my...skills a little longer than just a few hours."

[Paragon]

"No drink..." he looked at her carefully, and then chuckled, "well you're right about that. Quick, aren't you?" He poured himself a little of the Kelp beer - an acquired taste at best, though he had learnt to take in its merits. Unfortunately it was the only beverage readily available in Zeltiva - at least until they could... acquire a new shipment of alcohol from elsewhere. "Oh, no," he said with a grin, looking back at Phillipe, "I don't want to scare you, but this young man has been watching you for nearly a month. He came to me all that time ago, as a scout like, and said you were a daughter of Yshul if ever he did see one." The man motioned for Phillipe to pull two chairs from the corner of the room to the desk. "Please, sit. It might not be a social visit, but I want you to be comfortable. You can call me Lion, for that's what they all call me," the bald man that Phillipe called boss glanced around the room, attempting to make the look casual. "I run a little... establishment here. We acquire items in the city, stuff coming in and stocked in the warehouses for example. And then we have a few guys like Phillipe, who work some fancy tricks and sleight of hand." He took a sip of the beer. By the God's it was bitter and dire tasting, but it was strong, and it did the trick. "It was your little game that prompted him to bring you here, I think. You play a few of those often down at the Kelp bar, don't you? Well there are others like you... Phillipe has been sat in that bar every time you've pulled a stunt there. And yet you didn't notice." He raised the glass to the boy. "He might be a cocky one, but his fingers are blessed by Yshul, this one."

[Avari]

Avari almost laughed aloud, and it was only her ever-present sense of self-preservation that restrained her. "You've been watching me for how long?" she exclaimed, her voice climbing sharply at the last words.

The Konti shook her head in mild disbelief. "I was fully expecting you to attribute your uncanny speed and knowledge to some sort of well-controlled network of informants and messengers throughout the city, or something similar. That would have been impressive to hear, indeed. I might even have believed you if you said Philippe here really was a phenomenally swift runner. The gods do work in strange ways, after all, and mortal wizards even more strangely. For all I know, there does exist some gnosis mark or type of magic that makes people incredibly fast.

"But this? You expect me to believe that you have been keeping an eye on me for…how long? A month?" Avari shook her head, her pale hair floating lightly in the warm, flickering light. "In cities like Zeltiva, thiev…err, tricksters like me must be ten a copper. Like you said, there are a lot of others like me, right? I'm good, but I'm not that good."

With a shrug, the Konti spread her hands wide. "So, of course I didn't notice your man watching me at the Kelp Bar or anywhere else, because I didn't think I was worth watching. I cut a few purses, I pick a lock or two, and now and then I run a little scam on a gullible-looking mark. You fellows must be easily impressed."

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as though a great burden had been lifted from it. By Avalis, it felt good to put all that into words! It had been a long time since Avari had freely admitted to anyone what she did every day of her life. She didn't even mind calling herself no better than a common thief. She had only been at this "profession" a few years, after all, and there was still so much she could learn.

"I'm flattered, Mister Lion, but I can't say I feel too scared," she concluded. "Not yet, anyway."

Only then, at the end of her little rant, did Avari notice the proffered chair that Philippe had pulled out for her. She perched on the edge, ignoring the faint discomfort of the bruises on her knees as best she could. Making herself comfortable, she slouched nonchalantly against the chair's back, loosely crossing her legs and letting her limbs go slack.

"And who is this Yshul that you keep mentioning?" she demanded. "Is this a person that I should know?"

The name did tickle vaguely at the edge of her memory, and in an intriguingly unsavory way. Trying to think back to her scattered education in pallid, pealescent Mura was difficult though, here in this dimly candle-lit lair. She couldn't think of anyone by the name of Yshul.

"Who is she?" she repeated, tilting her head curiously. "A client, a patron, perhaps? Someone who's taken a liking to Philippe here, I take it? And what does she have to do with me?"

[Paragon]

The man nicknamed Lion laughed, taking another sip of his drink. He revelled in its warmth as it slid down his throat. "Yes, a month indeed, Miss Konti. Eyes watch from the shadows, or so they say." He pulled a drawer open on the table in front of him, procuring a small statuette. It was a feminine form, draped in black with a dark mask adorned on its face. The details were exquisite, and Avari would certainly wonder on its value. Lion thumbed it for a moment, twisting it in his hand, before placing it down in full view of the Konti. "Yshul is our most esteemed Lady," he said with a broad smile, "you play your skills down immensely. You see, we do this because of Her. We have no interest in veteran thieves near the end of their careers. We're interested in young thieves, just starting out, showing great promise and potential. I acknowledge you're no master thief, but Yshul promises me you will be one day." He watched her reaction. Phillipe was too, grinning from ear to ear like a cat who had just gotten some cream. "Now what do you think of that?"