Closed Fish and Salt

Four eyes always see more than two. (Fallon pls)

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Fish and Salt

Postby Estrellir Konrath on September 17th, 2015, 12:59 pm

Fall 9, 515 AV
The Kelp Bar

Leaning against the back wall of the Kelp Bar sat a Konti. Despite the dimly lit environment and her sitting in an even darker corner, the snow white locks and pale scales shimmered in the flickering light. Unless she took precautions and disguised herself, a Konti always stood out like a beacon of light.

Estrellir didn’t particularly mind the glances and whispered discussions though. She’d been wandering through Zeltiva for the past few days, using every chime to get to know the city and its infrastructure. She’d known Kenash like the back of her hand, both the six sisters of sin and many of the surrounding plantations. If she were to spend a season or more in Zeltiva, she would have to familiarize herself with the city. All but thrown out of her natural environment, she had to adjust to new conditions as quickly as possible. Estrellir Konrath didn’t simply move places. Back in Kenash, she had been privileged, but in Zeltiva her name held no meaning. All she had was money, a small stash of metal coins, and determination.

Despite her former social standing or perhaps because of it, Estrellir knew that understanding a city meant more than settling down and getting a job. She wanted to learn how the city worked and how its residents ticked. Investigation had always been more than an occupation, it was her livelihood.

So she had found the Kelp Bar, still wrapped in her worn black coat, feet in dusty boots tapping against the floor. The hood was up, casting a shadow over her features, although she knew it concealed neither her racial identity nor the quality of her clothing. Looking down, she inspected her mug of kelp beer. Green, fishy and strong. The first taste was followed by a flinch. Sighing, she took another sip. Of course, one couldn’t expect to find anything comparable to Kenashian rum in other parts of Mizahar, but this… would take some getting used to. At least it went down like fire, decent alcohol.

With another sigh, she produced her old pipe and lit it carefully before looking up. The reputation of the Konrath Dynasty wouldn’t protect her in East Street, so she had to keep an eye out for trouble. Beyond that, Estrellir opened her eyes and ears to Zeltiva, curious about what awaited her and ready to use it to her advantage.
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Fish and Salt

Postby Fallon on October 1st, 2015, 7:55 am


"What do you mean it's gone?"
"Exactly that. Vanished I tell you! No sign of any forced entry or anything."
"Keep your voice down,"
the man hissed, voice dropping down into the background. Shoulders hunched in, pitched words only able to be picked out from what was said, "Now tell me what you mean, mate. This ain't good you know."
"Tell me something I don't know. How in hai am I supposed to pay the landlord now?"

The Kelp Bar, a hive of gossip and worry on the more individual level - at least on this day it was. It was simply another occasion for Fallon to take up residence and scour the underbelly of Zeltiva for various clue drops and delicious pieces of information. Or hunt for work, either or was perfectly fine in her eyes, a mere means to an end in which she became then able to obtain her end goal. Knowledge was vital, it allowed her the space and time to outmanoeuvre potential hazards and snuff them out before they grew too much; similar really to how to deal and tend to people accordingly. Taking her perch at the bar in what was starting to become a usual spot for her, Fallon let her eyes flicker, counting and watching the shapes move on through. The gauntlet covered hands were cupped neatly around the tankard, the bitter taste of kelp beer resting on her tongue. Much like the mercenary inhabitants she had dressed down, rough coat of red and wearing a more meaner appearance on this night. The belt held the multitude of blades, the scabbards tapping against the floor whenever she moved.

With a turn of the head she saw the more bent in shapes, the forms of men merely looking about. Rough clothes, but notably clean hands, nails trimmed with the beard cleanly clipped. The voice was unsuiting for the clientele of the bar. Crisper with the poor attempt to try and smother it in with the rest, "No one followed you right?"
"Of course not,"
spoke the other, shaven one. He seemed to be playing within something before him, a glint of a shining surface in the dull before it was smothered by a hand, "I got them made by the way. Just as the big boss requested. Now I've got to play delivery man."
"Oh really?"
she heard the curious tone, "Does that mean...?"
"Yes. Yes it does,"
with a clasping of the hand into a shake, there was a low hum of a voice, "We will be strong unto the end of days my brother."

Fallon's eyes rolled away, looking down the other length of the bar but her ears remained straining as she attempted to listen to the mumble of the conversation. They continued, for the most part, "This is... excellent. I am pleased that I introduced you now. We will be worthy associates."
"Indeed. We will get many a task done in preparation. We must, it is of the utmost importance."
"Yet, when and where do we begin?"
"Calm yourself brother. Time. No doubt her eyes and ears are watching. When it is time you will know. Until then, stay sharp. We do not know who will be working against us."
"Like that blasted investigator?"
Fallon choked momentarily on her drink, her shoulders hunching in as she continued to transfix her gaze away from them.
"Yes. That investigator. I am sure in time she will be... seen to."
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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