67th of Spring, 513AV
Mountains. Ignotus didn't care what anyone said, mountains were Rhysol's work. No other terrain was quite as teeth-grindingly abominable as mountains. They truly seemed to be designed to turn perfectly serviceable bodies into sausage material. If he had to actually climb the damned things, he likely would have given up then and there. But, mercifully, he didn't. He simply needed to attract what did.
Specifically, what Ignotus was looking for were slavers. Nasty, ratty things that made travel through the wilderness a touch on the nightmarish side. But they were also extremely hardy creatures, and, perhaps most importantly, were good at transporting people against their will. This would be very useful for what the Nuit wished to do.
Because Ignotus Everto had a problem. He needed to bridge a distance of hundreds upon hundreds of miles in order to rob a man in Alvadas. Simultaneously, this man would likely be coming after him. And since travel as a Nuit was an incredibly difficult and arduous affair, this posed a very unpleasant state of affairs- but a state of affairs that could be rectified. Thus, the slavers.
Presently, the Nuit was doing what could only be described as tempting fate. Walking alone, in a rich man's garb, with no visible means of defense, beyond the watch of the law. And whistling, of all things. Merrily whistling. It really was like he was asking to get mugged. Or ransomed. And while it was several bells, and a quickly-defused encounter with a pack of wild dogs (Hypnotism really was such a lovely tool sometimes), eventually the wizard was rewarded.
He had to hand it to them, they really did work quite quickly. One moment he was strolling casually along a particularly thick clump of brush, and the next he was being seized by the arms, manacled, and getting a sack thrown over his head. As he was led away by some very smelly ruffians, the Nuit allowed himself a grin. Perfect. Every dozen chimes or so, he hazarded a small cranial detachment to allow himself to see. It pleased him to see an encampment coming into view. A very sizable encampment. Is more perfect a concept? he wondered to himself as they entered the camp proper. A bonfire was crackling ten meters away, and across it was a massive tent. This was where Ignotus was led. "Got another one, Chief." a female voice said.
"Really?" replied a baritone. "Let's have a look at him, then."
The sack was yanked off the Nuit's head, and he was able to take in his new surroundings. Another, smaller fire burned in the middle of the room, and a thick bearskin run lay between it and a rough-cut... Well, a throne wasn't quite the right word. More a collection of sawn-up logs made to look like a throne, for ego's sake.
A few goblets of tin, and one of gold were strewn across the room, and a rather miserable girl around the age of fourteen languished in a leash next to one of the posts. The tent's fabric was a faded red. Evidently, the "chief" liked to travel in style. The man in question was a log-like, tanned human in his thirties, with jet-black hair, a jagged, scarred face, and vibrant blue eyes. He wore furs. Two other, equally burly men in sackcloth stood at either side of him. "A Nuit. Of course." he grunted. "Guess someone who wants to learn Pavi or something will like you." a quick look at the wizard's clothes caused him to raise an eyebrow. "Or how to handle their coin."
The chief got a gracious smile in return. "My dear, I think I have a better idea." This netted him a smack- but one that was chastised by the man. Ignotus really did love implanted thoughts- they always came in so handy. "Hold. Let him speak." The slaver sank into his makeshift throne, a smirk on his face.
"As you may have deduced," the Hypnotist began, "I am a man of rather ample means. Means that, tragically, you're currently unable to plunder."
"Tragic indeed." snorted the chief.
"I believe I can remedy this sorrowful state of aff-"
"Gonna try to buy yourself?" he interrupted. "Forget it."
"No." said Ignotus, a pulse of Djed radiating from him. Patience. Credulity. "I wish to buy someone else. Someone who has not yet been captured."
A furrow came to the chief's brow. But money was money and anyone who could afford this man's clothes wasn't bullshyking, plus it didn't cost him to listen. "A man named Andyn Issidia. He's an Alvad merchant."
Ignotus had done his homework before striking out. A night's plunder of Zeltiva's birth certificates and housing records netted him Andyn's appearance. One that he relayed to the Chief. As he did so, he brushed his fingers lightly against the man standing at his left- he seemed a touch distracted. Bored, even. In an instant, glowing green Cordas strings attached themselves to him. They would be useful later, should negotiations go South. Of course, he had a thick band of Res wrapped around his torso as well. Just in case.
"If you can collect him and bring him to me, I will pay you the sum of two thousand gold Mizas."
This announcement caused quite a stir among those in the tent. That was more than twice what they could get for a Jamoura! Now he really had the chief's attention. "Uhuh. And why should I believe you?"
"My dear..." Ignotus chuckled, "Do I look untrustworthy to you?"
Credibility. A spark of humor, a light dash of goodwill. And a dollop of greed. Child's play. The chief laughed. "You. You're an interesting character, you. I'd sell you, but you'd net half of what you're offering at best. All right. You've got yourself a deal Mr..."
"White." Ignotus said. "John White."
It wasn't a total fabrication. A John White did live in Zeltiva- he just happened to be dead for two years with no next of kin. His mailbox was abandoned. Perfect for discreet use.
"Afraid you'll have to go back on your own." said the Chief. "The Road's to the southwest. I'm sure you'll be fine."
The Nuit chuckled. "Delightful. Chief. Though... I do have one request..."
The slaver's brow furrowed again. "Mm?"
"Everything on his person. Keep it in pristine condition. I want it all."
This caused a raised eyebrow, but the slaver shrugged. "Pay for 'em, and they're yours." Yes, he was the type to copper and silver.
"But of course!" Why not humor him?
"Then it'll be done."
"Excellent!" chirped the Nuit with a grin. "And... Good luck."
He was unshackled then, the Cordas strings were broken, he was given a point in the right direction, and sent on his way. In the corner of his vision, the Nuit saw a row of cages, all of them filled with the poor and destitute. He could have saved them, if he wanted to... But that would mean destroying his tools. Besides, he would end slavery entirely once he had the power he needed. Really, he was only putting their freedom on hold- not denying it.
As Ignotus Everto walked back to Zeltiva, he couldn't help but laugh.