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~ Influencing Merchant Affairs ~

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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Zandelia on February 6th, 2015, 3:00 am

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Winter 25th, 514 AV - The Quay House

The fire was crackling as per usual, the inter chills were biting hard this season, harder than the previous few years that she could recall, and she was not one to suffer in discomfort if she could help it. The flames glowed, lighting the room with an orange hue against the starry evening that lay behind the shutters. She disliked company she did not know beyond doubt, especially in the twilight hours. So it was with a suspicious gaze that she took in the man sat across from her at the table. He had come knocking at her bidding yet still she left nothing to chance – her broadsword was in her grasp, scabbard tip digging into the floor as she toyed with the basket hilt handle idly.

“You’re sure that the information is correct?” he asked her, tone sharper than she liked but his concern was at least rational.

“If you like you may find another person with my particular talents to try again,” she smiled slightly at him, pulling the blade out slowly before letting it rasp back into the scabbard, “but then you’d still need to compensate me for my services”

“Like Hai I would!”

“Yes, you would,” she stared at him flatly, voice growing hard as iron, “as I performed my job. To the letter and more, for which I am not asking extra out of good faith. But you would leave here without the information as you deem it suspect. I will sell it to…someone else”

“Someone’s else? Are you threatening me Web? I Won’t toler-“

“I do not threaten, I promise. Now, you can take what I have garnered or you can leave your gold and go. Either way suits me. And to answer the unasked question, no…you wouldn’t make it to the door if you try to leave without paying”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Promises,” she told him sweetly, “I dare much. It’s why you came to me. Now you put me in a dangerous weave for a few days. I require adequate compensation”

“Fine! Hundred gold, as agreed” he threw the pouch upon the table with a growl and went to take the envelope that was upon the table underneath her fingers.

“My costs are now Hundred-Fifty” she told him calmly.

“Bugger them they are! You agreed a hundred!”

“Before you insulted me by doubting my ability and my word. Cost goes up when I have to put up with cheek” she stated to him calmly, her tone was clearly unsettling him and she found it amusing.

“Fine!” he threw a stream of other coins upon the table to meet the cost and she let him take the folded pile of parchments with a snort of disdain.

She refrained from laughing until she was sure that he had left the premises entirely, through the Gatehouse and likely down the street by now what with the anger he had stormed out with. She had thought about asking for more when he slammed the door, claim for potential damages, but the moment for her own teasing enjoyment passed quick enough and she kept her lips sealed. After all, it wouldn’t have done to ruin her reputation – it had surely increased in infamy with her neat little playing of the would-be merchant prince whom had just taken his leave. It paid to have a reputation for being hard but fair, skimming a bit extra just meant people would trust her more as it was clear she was out for herself. She pulled out the blade of the broadsword and turned it in the air, watching it light u with the hues of the flames behind her.

What a job, what fun indeed! Sometimes I wish there were more like them in this fetid wood pile…
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Last edited by Zandelia on March 1st, 2015, 6:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Zandelia
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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Zandelia on February 7th, 2015, 12:11 am

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The Pig’s Foot – Three Days Previously

She wasn’t paying attention to the crowded thong of sweaty – mostly ripe, male – bodies today, she had decided that it was a fine day to take a break, to catch some much needed air and focus upon lighter tasks. She was certainly providing much amusement to those who could hear her at last, her lute upon her lap and the case next to her wine upon the rough surface of the table as she tried to better her rather poor abilities. She had chosen the tavern for a very good reason, it was loud. Loud enough to hide her noise for the most part but still soft enough that she could hear whether she was getting it right or not. Still, even though she was just tuning the thing there were sniggers dotted here and there close by.

She ignored them though her cheeks burned, hopefully mistaken for anger, as she closed her eye and her fingers shifted upon the strings, moving up and down as she had been taught as a child. Forefinger tested the sound of the second dual strings, using the first set already tuned as a guide. She plucked them thrice and noted that they were a little flatter than they should be. She began turning the pegs, plucking as she went, until they settled into a better set of notes. This she repeated for all of them, taking quite a while and with many stops to fortify her courage with delicious alcohol. Once finished she gave the strings a series of plucks and strums to scattering of half-hearted cheers from those closest who approved of not having their ears assaulted anymore.

Just you wait, haven’t started playing yet… she told herself.

She began to pluck with her thumb and forefinger of her right hand, her left fingers holding and releasing the strings along the neck as she knew they should. Her placings were all off, slower at times and yet at other times faster than they should be. The notes were discordant, a cacophony of terror unleashed with her own fingers. She winced and stopped, taking a deep breath and continuing. This time, rather than trying to play flowingly she settled for singular notes, chords here and there. She kept at it doggedly, her fingers learning the memory required to repeat at faster speeds as she kept repeating the song’s music. Chord, three notes, chord, four notes, faster notes here, another chord. It was maddeningly slow, so slow the song was unrecognizable but she was learning and that brought a smile to her face.

“Plan on torturing us into talking today then Web?” came the gruff voice of Merv as he replaced her wine with another cup and did his best to be gracious between the winces at the sour notes that pinged out every so often.

“I thought I’d try it as a new tactic” she responded as she began again, this time slightly faster and with more of a rhythm as her fingers worked – the remnants of a jaunty tune rearing its beauty intermittently.

“Can you try it somewhere else?”

“And have your patrons miss out on good entertainment?” she grinned in triumph as she managed one circuit of notes without a mistake for once, slow though it had been.

“Well there’s a gent here to see yer. Says it’s about gold. Lots of gold”

“Gold I have”

“And,” he lean in and whispered the next portion, “about taking a hold of the markets and controlling them. Merchant he says. Reckons himself a right toff”

“Send him over” she sighed as she repeated the notes one last time before placing the lute into its case and leaning back with cup in hand.

“Mistress Web I presume?” he man appeared, all fashionable dress and faux mannerisms, a small bow of theatrical nature.

“”And you are?”

“Interested in advancing myself and your interests”

“Interests? What interest do I have in a merchant war pray tell me?”

“A war? Oh please, spare me such grim avenues. I mean to win through trickery. Now, all I need from you is a list”

“A list?”

“Well…more a series of lists. Copies of rival’s supplier contracts. How much they pay for them, who supplies and when. That sort of thing”

“You mean to undercut the market. Sell for lower prices by getting supplier rights cheaper. The goods come in and you can offer less, thus decimating the competition”

“Very astute! Yes, I plan on winning through business”

“Cut-throat business”

“It always is”

“And then they’re forced to either negotiate with you, or better still to sell their business to you. Thus you become the prince of the paupers”

“If you help me o course”

“And why should I?”

“I have one hundred gold that says you should, not to mention that when I am in my rightful position I will owe it to yourself. I can be very….grateful”

“Very well, give me the list of names and locations. I’ll see what can be done”

“Done!” he slipped a small piece of parchment to her and she folded it up before sliding I into her boot, “to villainy and bloodless victory” he nodded at her before turning with a flourish of his coat.

“Now that one…that one is too mighty fine to know what day it is. Still…good money. Very good money indeed” she told herself as she swirled her cup and thought trough possible plans for what lay ahead.
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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Zandelia on March 1st, 2015, 5:41 pm

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Castle Commons – Two days previously


It was a shaded part of the joining between the Commons and the Warehouse District, a place it was noted that few of the upstanding citizens of the city ever truly ventured. A warren of thieves and guards who might as well have been thieves considering the way in which they extorted gold from the businessmen who required their services. Not that paying them actually meant that they would de their jobs either. Still, it was as convenient a place as any to conduct the business that she was planning – if it went as planned. It hardly ever did but then that was why she was squatting on the corner of a roof and gazing over the lip, hood up, as she awaited the expected arrival.


The list had been extensive, a good seven names of prominent competitors and four side-sellers who her employer had noted would pay extra for but were not required. She was not concerned over the gold offered but her reputation, as such she had made arrangements over the last day to make sure she would have the information required on all of those listed. She was hoping it would all come with the impending delivery, that way she would have the time to look it all over to check for accuracies and potential exaggerations. Middle-men did so love to add in little flairs to make their job seem harder and earn more gold, she should know as she used to be one. She peered down after glancing about to make sure she was alone upon the roof and saw the first arrive, head shifting this way and that but not thinking to look upwards.


There is a reason most do not make it past your level lad, thank your wits that you're useful enough not to get killed for parchment she told herself as she shifted position to get a better vantage over the other smaller alleys below her whilst keeping an eye on the boy below.


Creeping across the roof now she took position over the crossing that was to be the meeting point, five smaller alleys randomly jettisoning themselves into an open space, open enough for both meeting and trap and she was not sure which one it would be just yet. She could see the other three hirelings making their way down each of their routes, slow and cautious as befit men and women of decent intelligence. She smiled as they met each other and immediately started nattering to each other – bragging and leering. They thought their lives were jokes, fine and fun things filled with adventure. They were not wrong she begrudgingly had to admit but then again they were all far too naïve in their views also. She sighed and levered herself over the edge, scaling down the rope she had put in place and hitting the ground softly upon the balls of her feet.


“Merchants, they're all fools Is wear. Good at making gold but piss poor at all else. A few questions and a bitter assistant! All it takes!” one was roaring as the others laughed.


“I will be the judge of that Nemia, your mind can be quite weak at times. Too busy measuring your manhood for the women present. Let me see” she clicked her fingers and though he spat at the ground in irritation he had the sense to do as was asked.


She looked it over, the list was for one of the priority targets, inventory seemed sound and the sources of produce checked out when compared against her own siftings yet the prices paid seemed lower than expected, far lower than expected. She frowned and clicked her fingers for the other pieces of parchment and lay them upon a nearby crate, smoothing them out flicking them to and fro as her gaze sought comparative confirmation – she was finding it difficult to locate. It was as if the lists were made up on the spot based upon rudimentary knowledge and the requirement to throw her off a scent. She folded them up and slipped them into her armour and as she straightened, anger flowing through her at the betrayal, she heard steel being drawn. She turned and leant against the crate, fingers upon the handles of her tonfa.


“Where are the real lists?” she asked casually.


“Safe, thought we'd take the contract ourselves”


“Really? You thought that up all by yourselves did you? Did you also think up how to survive?”


“You're not as tough as you think you are Web”


“So you say, yet I don't see any of you charging in first...do I?” she spoke casually but there was steel beneath, forged from the flames of wrath.


“Could be we finish this peacefully...”


“And let young idiots set an example to others that betrayal is rewarded? Interesting notion but hardly in keeping with my character. You know that. So...who's first?” she asked, pulling out her weapons and stepping forwards slightly.


It happened quick enough, the leader let the others attack first but they were far from experienced fighters, sneaks not mercenaries. A flick of her weapons here blocked and disarmed two, stepping under the blows of the others her legs swept around as she lowered herself to the round to take the legs from another. It was about momentum, not power. They were more but they were slower and she kept up her assault. Both weapons at once, striking at shoulder and knee here or rib and groin there. She pivoted and kept her arms moving, her centre of gravity mobile. They didn't have much time to attack back between the blows and rebounds of cold iron but when they did she moved and they hit one of their own. A few chimes and it was all over. Fallen bodies and blood, all dead and weapons skittered away to be found later by those who wished they had them.


“Should have taken the money and kept your lives. Espionage need no loose ends. I'm starting to think I should just kill all of my sources as soon as they've fulfilled their purposes” she sighed in frustration as she began the arduous process of searching the bodies.


It took some time but eventually she found what she was looking for, not as much as she had hoped but enough to pay for her inconvenience. The lists had six of the seven main targets and two of the minor, they looked genuine enough to her eye too. There would only be one way to find out though and given that her partners had just tried to kill her she wasn't about to trust their corpses with being factually correct. She stuffed the parchment into her armour and made her way back into the light of day. It was time to validate her sources and see if they had any potential for her own ends.
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Zandelia
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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Zandelia on March 1st, 2015, 6:05 pm

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The Day Before The Deal


“So we are sure that this is the genuine article?” she queried pointedly as her fingers danced the gold miza across the back of her knuckles before the young woman.


“Definitely, copied it myself” she smirked proudly and made a snatch for the coin.

“Ah ah! You can read and write can you? He doesn;t seem the sort of employer to help his employees too much”


“Doesn;t mean I can't copy what I see does it? Don;t know what the Hai it all emans but its what was in there” she responded sulkily.


“And how did you gain access to it”


“Well I am the cleaner. I move things. Switch things around. Sort them out. Don't pay no mind to the scrubber, I'm just clearing up your shyke you lazy git. You know?”


“Yes...I suppose that I do, don't I? Very well, you may have your gold. And remember...”


“I ain;t never saw you, don't know you, nothing about these thingammies on that parchment. Can't write remember?”


“Very good Valeria, very good indeed. You will be most useful I am sure. Here” she stated and handed over five mizas, a small price for such worth but then as the girl had said she didn;t know the worth of it.


She had just received over a day's pay at any rate and Zandelia had to smile slightly as she saw her face light up like a bonfire and a tear or two trickle down her cheek. She nodded gratefully and dashed off into the throng, no doubt to go buy medicines for her brother who was currently ill with the fever. It was one of the reasons Zandelia had chosen her for the task of theft, that and why a stranger who owed her a favour would soon be delivering expert care to the boy who would now live thanks to a little industrial espionage. She hadn't been the first this day either but the alst, the last of ten in point of fact. So far she had spent fity gold just to get twice that, not that she wouldnp;t be begotiating for more. Yet it had been worth it after all of the waiting and tense sweating in the crowds. She had her lists – three of them now – and with them in her grasp she was beginning to develop a scheme of her own.


One for profit and fun in equal measure I think, now...let's analyse what we have she told herself as she retreated towards the Quay House for what she was sure would be an enlightening experience of the inner worknigs of the world of business.


It took her the ebtter part of five Bells to fully mine through all of the data, her own slips of parchment before her and quill and ink dancing across their blank surfaces with notes and comparitive deductions. Numbers were shorter here but larger there and she had to deduce various averages to make it all work. The true ledger copies were the key really, she was just missing one of them at present – her employer's. She wanted to know how he fit into the wider web of commerce in the Commons but for now she contented herself with reviewing his adversaries. It turned out that there were three who posed him significant threat – the cost at which they purchased many of their goods seemed impossibly low. To her mind it indicated connections beyond the mundane tradesmen.


She sighed and pinched her brow, leaning abck into her chair and pouring out another cup of spiced wine as she placed the quill tip back into the inkwell. She had five piles now when she included the two originals she had started with. One was the true copies she had acquired, another true copies that she would file away for her own uses. Then there were the three forged ones – the ones her dead comrades had made, the ones sloppily made that were inaccurate occasionally and one penned by her own hand based upon plausible averages taken from across the other four. The names of the sources were the same across all of them though, they were too known to alter without suspicion. As she began to sip there was a knock upon the door. She placed the cup down and took up a dagger as she made her way towards the entrance.


“I know you're there Web! I think you'll want to hear what I have to say!”


“And what is that?” she asked after cracking the door open ever so slightly.


“A business veture!” came the roaringly merry reply.


“I have many of those”


“Not ones where you get to do what you really want to do lass. I know you're reputation. You want to work for a complete arse or you want to work for the thrill and help out decent folk at the same time eh? Eh!”


“You try anything, I kill you. Count to five and open the door, close and lock it after” she stated as she stepped back.


The door opened, the lock clicked and from there on out her evening improved considerably.
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Zandelia
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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Zandelia on March 1st, 2015, 7:00 pm

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The Present – Quay House



“Well I do believe that went rather well, wouldn't you say dear friend?” she asked, still looking at the flickering colours as she turned the blade but noting the creak of wood as the stairs took the weight of her guest and they made their way down to meet her, across the floor and eventually pausing before the chair next to her.


“I thoguht so, he was quite greedy wasn;t he? So fileld with, with...”


“Guile? Self-importance? Shkye?” she asked as she sipped from her cup once more.


“I was going to say ambition but those work well enough too. You;re doing good work here Web”


“So you say Jimmy, so you say. Only Tanroa herself will decide whether that is so. For now though I take simple pelasure in having had fun. And having thwarted a complete and utter bastard. He was rotten, deep down. Just wanted power. Wouldn;t have know how to use it” she muttered before draining the cup and placing it down carefully.


“That why you gave him the wrong copies you spoke of?”


“See this sword?” she asked as she held it before him, “this was my father's sword. Died this year”


“I;m sorry to hear that”


“I'm not, I helped kil lhim. He sold me into despair as a child and got my mother killed. All for ambition. Ambition can be useful, but only in the mind of one who doesn;t see it as a path littered with the bodies of innocents. That is why I gave him the wrong copies. Made some gold out of it too. Even after spending some of my own”


“He the only one you sold it to?”


“Hah! You are smarter than you lok Jimm.y I'll give you that. No, I went to all of the others with the same offer. All but three accepted so quickly you could see the other's poverty striken corpse int heir eyes. The rest declined but did nothing, knowing the tohers were likely asked. You...you were the only one to act in the interests ofd others. Why?”


“Monopoly”


“Explain”


“Monopoly helps no one but the owner. Even the customers eventually get cheated out of everything just for, for sake of example, a simple laof of bread. Competition, fair or unfair, is all that keeps prices down enough for honest folk not to starve in this city. You helped me maintain the norm”


“With a bit extra for yourself no?”


“Well....I am a businessman. Ingenious idea by the way, shifting the figures so mine seemed like I was no threat, that I paid far more than I actually do. Why did you do that?”


“Three reasons, forstly it means that you owe me and I like favours. Second, it means that you will be paying me as much as everyone else. Thirdly, because than I know that – unless I am a terrible judge of character – the winner of this little game will be someone who doesn;t actually want to crush the others. I can think of no better capstone to such a thing”


“Fair enough, how much do I owe you? Hundre-fifty?”


“Yes, but keeo your pouch where it is. And take the rest of these,” she stated with a small grunt as she gathered the other pouches up and placed all but one of them into a heap on the table, “I will kep one, cover my own expenses and make the agreed hundred I wanted. The rest you can take to the orphanage. Or some other charitable place. Let people who need it get it. I have no need of gold”


“Then why do you do it?”


“Because I can, because tohers always think I'm stupid. Because it's a game to be played on the grand scale. Or perhaps it's because I'm contrary. Take your pick. Just take it away. Gold corrupts and I don't want it”


She kept her position, slipping the broadsword into its sheath after Jimmy had departed with the hard-earmed money she had just given up on. She smiled into the dim light of the room, she had told him the truth but he had likely not bleeived it. He probabl thought she was a dcent soul now who did it to give others a better chance at life. The truth was that such considerations were admirable but secondary. She had done ti because she hadn;t liked the smell of her first employer, because they were savvy minds who conned othersd and deserved to be conned in return. It was all a game, she was just ebtter at playing it, that knowledge was worth the effort.
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Zandelia
I Aim To Misbehave
 
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The Would-Be Merchant Prince

Postby Alea Davenport on April 5th, 2015, 2:23 am

Thread Award!


Zandelia:

Skills:
Intimidation +1
Instrument: Lute +1
Stealth +1

Lores:
Contact: Valeria, an Illiterate Cleaner
Jimmy: A Decent Merchant

Notes:
Please remember to edit your request to show that it was graded.


If you have any questions about the grade, please feel free to PM me and we can discuss it.
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