[Location]The Center for Employment and Business Licensing

[Verilian]

Sam Leaie The clerk answered all the man's questions and sent him on his way. Sam would report to the Nitrozian estate for work the following day and be given more details there, but for the time being he was content in knowing that he had a job. It would pay the bills, and it would help build his reputation in the city. It was a good job. Jay Dasher Before I can respond further, you need to take care of the Moderator Intervention on your character sheet. Until you have taken care of it, you cannot post in Ravok. Malice The clerk eyed the halfbreed as he entered warily. Zith were never to be trusted, and neither were their tainted offspring, but it wasn't his job to question the value of a man's race. His job was simply to give that man a job, and let the city sort things out. He was surprised when the zith-blood gave him the filled out sheet, not having expected it to be able to write. The skillset wasn't surprising, every creature such as him the clerk had ever met were violent types skilled with weapons. He had an idea already of what the man wanted, but he asked anyway. "No wait, just need a few questions answered. Firstly, what sort of job would you like?" Rezren "Work as an intelligence contact, and a mercenary," the merchant read aloud as he looked over the simple application, quirking an eyebrow curiously. "We will have to know who exactly you were providing intelligence for, and on what sort of subjects. Also, if you could elaborate a bit on what sort of mercenary work you have done in the past. There are always mercenary jobs available, but jobs related to intelligence are a bit harder to get." Bojovnik Vybutit The clerk looked at Bojovnik, then motioned to the application that he was supposed to fill out before answering him. "There are always mercenary jobs available in Ravok. All you need to do is fill out this form and you will be put on retainer." Mercenaries were simple business and the clerk liked them, because they were easy to deal with. As long as they got paid and something to stab, they were happy, and they usually weren't overly chatty either. Chatty clients meant he saw less people, and that made him look bad. OOC : You have permission to work as a Mercenary in Ravok. You will need to do at least two threads per season in order to get your salary. Also, please put a timestamp at the beginning of your post so that I can know when your job started. If you don't put a timestamp, you can't get paid. This is your storyteller secrets thread: http://www.mizahar.com/forums/topic23773.html Please copy the link into your profile under the under control panel so that it will show up like your character sheet link does. If you have any questions, feel free to ask Tanjun Vorot The clerk eyed Tanjun curiously as she filled out her form. He eyed every woman who entered the office though. She wasn't one of the voluptuous curvy ones that he usually favored.. but maybe he might have a chance with this one. At least, he thought as much, until he read her application. Ebonstryfe. No chance.. she was out of his league. "Ah, your handwriting is just fine, my lady. What sort of job were you interested in? Mercenary work would probably suit you, but you might not have time for that. Would you be interested in any other sort of work?"

[Malice]

Before heading to his seat, Malice hears the clerk ask him what type of job he is interested in doing in the city. Malice turns around to the clerk, walks to the desk, and says with a grin, "Well..I could be a guard if your city needs it. Also I can work as a body guard to one of your VIPs. I figure the sight of an Zith or even a half Zith would keep the lowest of people away." He puts his gauntlet hand on his desk and says in a low voice, "I could also put my Zith nature to the test and retrieve runaway slaves or criminals for you. Honestly, I don't have your human morals, so I don't mind doing the underhanded actions that might blemish the image of your beautiful city."

[Nyctea]

23rd of Summer, 512 AV Hm, this place is smaller than I'd thought it'd be... the walls could be a little darker... Rummaging her rucksack to find the piece of paper she was looking for, Nyctea worried she may have left it behind at the Market. Her hand finally skimmed the sheepskin sheet her father had placed at the very bottom of the sack. With a sigh of relief, Nyctea walked with the form in hand toward the clerk near the front of the room. I better remember to thank Father's friend for filling this out for me, once I get back. Hopefully, I'll be able to add good news. She forced herself to smile at the man in order to make sure things go as smoothly as possible, before sliding the form across the table. Name: Nyctea Age: 2 (late teens, early twenties in human-years) Race: Kelvic (Great Horned Owl) Relevant Skills: Competent and stealthy hunting skills Able to fly and kill silently Can see and hear clearly in the dark Novice flutist Past Work Experience: N/A Other: Looking for a couple part-time employment opportunities, preferably as a Huntress, Courier, Information Broker, and/or Spy

[Verilian]

Malice The clerk almost chuckled. Of course he had been right, the Zith wanted a job that involved violence, but if he thought he was going to be entrusted with protecting the city he had another thing coming. The clerk didn't want half-breed monsters protecting him, and he doubted anyone else in the city did. "I am afraid we do not have any guard positions for you at the moment, city or private." Then the Zith leaned in and presented another possibility. Runaway slaves were a problem, sometimes, but there wasn't exactly a job that directly dealt with them. They were usually apprehended by the city guard, or the Ebonstrfye. But, when the slaves actually did escape, merchants sometimes employed mercenaries and bouty hunters to recapture them. "I could set you up as a mercenary. It would only be basic missions, until you prove yourself, but sometimes the slavers do hire mercenaries to capture escaped slaves. Plus you could sign up for any other of the jobs available. Mercenary work is first come first serve, though, so how often you work depends on how dedicated you are to getting work." OOC : The reason I am saying there isn't a guard position available is because according to the price list to be a guard you need a weapon skill and and unarmed combat skill. You have only weapons. Basically, for mercenary work you can either do modded threads, or ask approval to self-mod threads. Your missions don't necessarily have to be about combat, you could just be escorting a caravan or something like that. Also, work threads include getting jobs. I would accept one thread where you get the job, or seek out the job, and one thread where you actually do it, and count them for your required threads per season. You can also do extra threads, for in thread rewards, but those are up to the storyteller grading the thread. If you are interested, we can move forward from here. Nyctea It was his first day on the job. The young clerk, Matt was his name, was a Ravokian born low class citizen raised to love Rhysol and everything about him. Young Matt had actually just gotten the job a few days ago, putting his application in at the CEB just like everyone else, and now he was working there. It was kind of funny to him, he had just been looking for a simple desk job. He had never expected to start out at one that had such a huge responsibility tied to it. He was in control of people's future income, and that was power. So when his first applicant approached, his excitement grew. She was a pretty thing, about his age from the looks of it, with striking yellow eyes. How lucky was he that his first applicant would be such a beauty? When she slid him the form he quickly read it over once, then a second time pausing at the word Kelvic. ...she was kelvic? Kelvics were animals. Slaves. What was she doing applying for a job? "Ahem, miss," he said in a not so polite tone. "I'll need to know a bit more about you, if you want to rise above the animals and work in our city. First off, if you're a slave, I'll need your owner's signature before I can offer you any work. Second, I need to verify what type of kelvic you are. It says here you are an owl, but you are going to have to prove it. You can shift here, or we can go to a private room, your choice." It would seem that Nyctea's desire to have a smooth application was not going to happen. Like most Ravokian's, Matt was racist, and on top of that his father worked at the KRI, which meant he viewed kelvics as little more than animals to be used and studied. That, combined with the fact that it was his first day and he was trying to make a good impression on his superiors, meant that Nyctea was not going to have an easy time.

[Giph]

4th of summer 512 AV Giph made his way towards one of the official's behind their desks that wasn't bussy with another person and laid down his filled in form and identification papers. He hadn't really know what to put down, most of his skills where either not what you would put on an official form. Or not really what was useful in any job he knew of, who would need a swimmer? "I'm here for a job." Giph stated the obvious form : Name:giph age 17 race:human Skills: decent swimmer, climber and runner Working history: none oocHope you dont mind Giph already having identification papers. i thought it would be logical since he has been living in ravok since birth.

[Nyctea]

Typical Ravokian. Quick to judge, rarely considerate. I should have expected as much from this simpleton; his look of haughty disdain would have been unnerving if I hadn't seen it all my life. Nyctea clicked her tongue as the clerk mentioned 'proving' her Owl form. Her initial hope for little trouble was now certainly in vain. "I'm sorry sir," she started, with a slighting patronizing tone. "but a certain efficiency would have uncovered that I am indeed a full citizen of Ravok, and therefore immune to slavery." Nyctea knew that working at her parents' stall would help her gain the vocabulary needed to sound the least bit cultured, instead of the low class citizen she truly was. Hoping her remark had instilled assurance of her legitimacy, Nyctea thought back to that fateful day. In knowing that their daughter wouldn't be safe otherwise, Nyctea's parents had had her registered with the Black Sun and granted full citizenship when she was just a child. She silently thanked both Rhysol and her parents for this protection, before realizing that she may have stepped a little over the line in the way that she'd spoken to the man. Without him, there was no other way that Nyctea would be able to gain a respectable position in Ravok. He was her key to circumventing future prejudice, as ironic as that sounded. Keeping this in mind, Nyctea continued in a slightly more gentle speech, so as not to provoke the man. "No matter, I'm sure a simple file check should clear that up for you. So you say you'd like to know more about me?" Nyctea's voice dropped low and stayed soft, with her hand slightly held out as she walked around the clerk's table. Her eyes focused on his, a sly smile on her face. "How about if I answer whatever questions you have for me as I undress in the private room you mentioned." A shift required her nudity if she wished not to ruin her attire. Nyctea knew that most Ravokians were used to this Kelvic transition, but a little show for this young lad could surely liven up her day.

[Verilian]

Giph The clerk looked over Giph's paperwork as he muttered in response to what the man said. "Isn't that what all of you are looking for?" It wasn't a question he expected an answer too, the man was just in a sour mood. Giph's application didn't help any either. Once again it was a person with no skills that applied to any one specific job. "And what sort of job were you seeking, sir?" Nyctea It seemed it was going to be Matt's lucky day. Nyctea, despite her somewhat rude remark, seemed willing to follow direction and was going to shift for him. Which of course mean he got a sneak peak at the girl beneath all the clothing, and that was a bonus he was more than willing to accept. When they'd told him his job would have perks, Matt never imagined just how good the perks would be. The young man led the kelvic into the back room, questioning her about her parents and what they did as they went. When they got there, he tried to pretend that it was all just business, but anyone could tell the young man was enjoying himself. He was tempted to demand other things from her.. but, she was not a slave. She already had her citizenship papers, and in theory, he could get in trouble if he went too far. The proof of animal form was standard, though few of the clerks ever bothered with it, but anything else would have been too much. "Assuming this checks out," he commented in an attempt to break the silence, and appear professional, "We should have no problem setting you up as a hunter for the city. There aren't enough of them, and I do get tired of eating fish." OOCSo sorry that I took forever on this, guys! Feel free to send me angry PMs if I am being unresponsive. Oh, and in the future, if you include the job you want in your initial post, it will move things along quicker, because then I don't have to ask what job you want.

[Piraen Saneka]

14th of Fall, 512 AV The bird of prey stepped off of an unusually crowded footpath, taking refuge within the archway leading to the Center for Employment. "Excuse me." He muttered as he glared at the passing group. It was a large group, full of rowdy youths. From the moment he had stepped onto the path, they were on his case. Shouting, pushing, jesting...Piraen swore to never have kids. Brushing away the bad memory, Pi adjusted his vest, pulled the wrinkles out of his sleeves and entered the building. Having just earned his "Newly Registered" badge, the kelvic was now quick to flaunt it. First step in being a new citizen, he figured, was to get a job. Easy enough. Noting that others were filling out a sort of application, Piraen made haste in obtaining his own and filling it out. He wrote in the same way many Sylirans (though he wasn't born there, Piraen felt he was as much of a Syliran as anyone else, seeing as that was where he spent a sizeable amount of time), quickly and with little effort. As a biproduct, the words on the page came out in harsh, stick-like shapes that were anything but easy on the eyes. Employment Application : Name- Piraen Saneka Age- 2 years Race- Kelvic (Brahminy Kite) Relevant Skills- Competant Seamster Observant Can remember length notes and measurements Works well with others, including customers Past Work Experience- Nothing official, just some small tailoring jobs for friends. Other- N/A He walked an even pace up to the counter, nodding to the person on the other side. "Hello," He placed both hands on the edge of the desk, smiling cordially as he spoke. It had recently been brought to his attention that he, apparently, spoke softer than expected. So, in an attempt to compensate, he leaned towards the desk slightly, raising his voice a small level or two. "Would you happen to have a tailoring job open? If so, I have this," Piraen tugged loose a neatly folded paper, unfolding it and offering it up to the clerk.

[Alisdair McKennan]

A'lisdair was furious. How dare they tell him he can't operate without a proper license? He'd been working in Ravok for a year now, and now they told him that he couldn't be paid for a "real job" without getting it looked over by the CEB? Bloody government. It was a thorn in his side. However, before he entered the large stone building he braced himself against a wall and took several deep breaths, counting. Podrick's words ran through his head once again. "Nothing is solved through anger. Take deep breaths, and get a hold of yourself." Dear old Podrick. He always knew what to say. Properly collected, A'lisdair strode into the office with his head held high, in what he thought was an elegant gesture, but it just made his awkward, skinny form seem all the more bizarre. He'd never been good with people anyway.

He walked up to one of the clerks and asked politely, "Excuse me, I am a veterinarian in need of a job license. Do you know how I might acquire one?" Then he remembered the form that he'd filled out earlier. He reached inside his coat pocket and took out a neatly folded slip of parchment. He unfolded it and slid it across the counter to the clerk. "My credentials," he explained.

Name- A'Lisdair McKennan
Age- 4 years
Race- Kelvic (Spotted Hyena)
Relevant Skills-
-Competent in Animal Husbandry
-Novice Herbologist
-Novice Taxidermist

He was proud of that last one. He'd lost only one beloved pet under the knife, and it was still looking lively on the mantlepiece. One eye had started to droop though. He would fix that when he got home. He smiled at the clerk indulgently and waited for their response.

[Maedoc]

80th day of Fall, 512 A.V. Maedoc walked through the doors of the Center for Employment and Business Licensing confidently. He was a citizen now, a probationary one, but a citizen nonetheless. Such things as ambition and power could come later. Mizas enough to feed himself were the order of the day today. He needed to find work or else the coins he had held on to since his days with Tulk would not last him long in Ravok. Thus, Maedoc found himself in the second bureaucratic establishment in the past two days. But such things were a necessity at the moment. He pushed his hammer deeper into his cloak, not wanting it to be too visible here in pleasant society, but failing to hide it totally. He stepped forward behind a youth talking to one of the clerks. Maedoc tried not to listen to the youth haggling for better wages while he waited, instead thinking back on the harrowing prayer he has spewed forth at the Registrar yesterday. He wanted to tell himself he had no idea where he had found the words, but knew it was a lie. They had been a confession of his soul, a relinquishing of a burden, and a renewal of life. The youth left, looking nonplused, and Maedoc stepped forward. “Hello, I’d like to apply for work.” He said, self-consciously playing with the frayed end of his dirty sleeve.