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Stumbler

[Questing]The silk road

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As the group was seperated from the rest of the bustling streets somes, something felt odd to Youri. As his crimson hus had casted their gaze upon Roman's being, he took note of his behaviour, how he seemed stressed in some manner. The facial expressions he displayed simply adding to his curiosity as he would not be able to possibly understand what the man was seeing, nor going through. With a deep seated sigh escaping his nostrils, Youri crossed his arms some as he waited in silence for the man to explain himself. "How about we hear less about that, and more about the job you've had in mind, fate-seer." The name Youri had used for Roman seemed to hide a slight tone of certainty, as if he did want to believe what he had to say regarding these threads from earlier. His hues did catch a glimpse of his own, so he was willing to give Roman the benefit of the doubt.

And there it was, the explenation Youri had somewhat anticipated to hear. While his eyes narrowed on Roman, they did not exactly show a sign of contept, nor real annoyance at his words. Rather, he seemed to somewhat understand where he was coming from. Lowering his arms beside his being, he stared somewhat in silence at the man, though his mind ran rampant with the idea. 

 

However, the snap out of his thought was provided by Abralla as she spoke out that she would go. It was more her 'colorful' choice of words that made him skeptical about the female, though he figured she must have some capability to her. It did however amuse Youri how she spoke, as it reminded himself of bygone days. As her eyes were notably creeping over to him, he gave her a stare directly into her own with his crimson colored hues. Though that soon drifted off to Fallaman.

It appeared the two others who would follow on this adventure were somewhat set in stone to follow along with this tale. And with a faint sigh escaping his nostrils, he turned his gaze back over to Roman. "You speak of a matter most deem an illusion. Fate. Yet, you've been able to present me with proof, by allowing me to view a certain thread I otherwise could not. While I don't buy into this still, I'm willing to present you the benefit of the doubt." His tone seemed a bit different than before, as it was more relaxed instead of tense. Regardless, it appeared that Youri was set to come with.

 


 

Edited by Coffee-Addict

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Urgent documents my ass! Sharak cursed silently within the lulling safety of his mind, a place so wild and twisted only that wretched man would have found reassuring. Next time I'm to snatch some fucking papers from a fucking merchant I'm gonna rip his arm apart with the gods-damned documents still in his hands, rather than masquerading as a beggar. This place stinks of piss from a mile away! How miserable must a city it be when an honest beggar cannot even plea for coin without needing to puke every other hour? The deplorable train of thoughts rapidly scurrying through his brain was but the last one in a long chain of events that lead him there. Too long, probably. Nevertheless, he was on a rather leisurely mission, which involved relieving a relevant businessman of the unneeded burden of half a dozen credit letters, worth about three thousand hawks in total. The quest he was pursuing was a self-imposed one, a scheme he devised on the spot when he met the man during a previous task; at the time, Sharak was playing the part of a peer man of affairs whose interests spanned in the refined tradework of Lenshalin brandy casks. Noteworthy as it is, that particular kind of liquor sold for over twelve merlins per ounce, making it one of the most expensive booze of the continent. Needless to say, it was all bullshit, conjured with expertise from the perverse mind of a consumed con artist. Regardless, the plan worked out smoothly and allowed him to swindle the poor bastard for quite a fortune; but money was worth to him only so much as the inebriating experience of obtaining it. Thus he hopped from his previous victim onto the current one like a voracious and insatiable predator would switch from the slain body of his former prey to a new more succulent target.

In the light of such fascinating yet despicable events, Sharak found himself immersed in the flowing world of Union Capital, a city whose slender architecture was not fancier than the curious people who inhabited it. Lik'matten was one of such people, one of the many enriched merchants that were too busy with their affairs to beseech any degree of caution when rustling from one place to another. The plan was then extremely simple, for the victim, despite its riches, was a naive man when it came to matters of personal safety. Sharak would merely play the part of a beggar at the corner of this alley: as soon as Lik'matten passed by, he would bump into the man by feigning a teetering walk, then promptly snatch the poorly concealed documents from the inside pocket of the victim's coat with a remarkable work of legerdemain. After observing the merchant for a couple of weeks, Sharak was a hundred percent positive he would stroll right beside the alley, as it was the shortest route to the counting-house.

Sharak was waiting idly at the border of the street, begging for money with the most convincing pitiful look one could put on. He was dressed in a brown jute tunic stained with days-old encrusted filth, which looked more alike a mistreated sack of potatoes stolen and debatably adapted to work as a robe of sorts. His hood was woven in the same unruly fashion and let out a few locks of curly grey threads that would be too inconspicuous to call hair. His face was scarred by a plethora of bruises, his eyes were pale to near blindness, and all his frame, from the pointy fingers to the hollow cheeks, made it obvious the beggar was way past malnutrition. As soon as Roman's group entered the alley, his ears perked up with curious attentiveness. The group was nothing short of alluring for a series of reasons: the bizarre meddling of people, the awful look of concern that exuded from one, the sidelong glances of suspicious that escaped another, the marvellous uncertainty blazingly stamped on the slender features of their leader. Thanks the fucking gods! If they existed at all! A nifty intermission from this bothersome wait... I might even get to enjoy myself today. I guess this pisshole of a city is not that fucked up in the end. Well, it is fucked up, but that's just my line of business.

He lent over the corner in a sudden spasm of rheumatic coughing. ... I am chasing, aside that it is a ring of significant importance, more than any object I have ever encountered... Oh-oh, it really sounds like the treat for my teeth. While he was planning his next move, Lik'matten made his inglorious appearance from the rear end of the street. Already bothered by his former mission, yet not willing to give it up (it's still cold paying metal, y'know?), Sharak stood up among the shivers and trembling of presumed old age. He tottered over and bumped into the designated man, uttering a stream of lamentable excuses and paltry blessings to the gods of mercy, thus distracting the unsuspecting victim from a superior sleight of hand endeavour. After the misdeed was accomplished, the beggar fluttered to a corner and vanished, only to be replaced by the most average-looking, ordinarily dressed, lower scribe: the epitome of mediocrity. He had short brown air, unassuming dark eyes, an uneventful face topping a medium-built frame; his attire was just as unexceptional as his opaque gaze, with a consumed yet well-kept blue doublet and a pair of second-hand black breeches. The documents rested safely behind a hidden pocket near his right breast, but they would not reach the counting-house any soon. Sharak was going to tail the mysterious group into whatever deed they were up to; and once he could grab a hint of their scheme, he would tear it apart and burglarize the shit out of them. All from a safe vantage point, lest him not get too fired up with the adrenaline of battle... or not. 

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The final details

 

Roman shook his head. He could not deny that he was less than skillful when it came to social interactions. He never had the chance to create many long lasting relationships and never really learned good manners. Instead he was shipped from family to family trough adoption, so Fallaman was not wrong by saying he lacked manners. However to Roman's surprise they all agreed to follow him. At this point he felt like he ruined it with his sloppy approach but it seemed like it was going to work out.

-Well that settles it then. I am Roman Blake. It is a pleasure to have all of you working with me. Now if you have more questions, concern, or anything of value to say... we can do so on the walk. I appreciate your willingness to work with strangers, but I am sure we won't remain as such for very long.

Once he was done talking, he lifted his right hand and pulled on the web. For a fleeting moment, it was visible to all. They could see it more clearly than before, including the man who was spying on them... 

It was extending in the core of the city, surprisingly. How could something of such value be hidden in plain sight like this? Well they would soon find out. Roman then gently let go of it and started following it. Clearly he could still see it while the others could not.

 

???

-He made allies! With them he just might-

-Stop it. Look at them! I would laugh if I could. Pilling more garbage together only creates more. Plus have you not noticed the one stalking them? He might even settle this for us without even having to lift a finger. 

The other entity remained silent. They both shifted their attention on Sharak. 

 

And so it begins

 

-From what I can see so far, it won't be as simple as finding it. It seems to be in the middle of a high populated area, so there is no reason why it would not have been uncovered by now. Also I doubt something of such importance will be unguarded. Anyone here have some idea on how to proceed? See me as nothing but a tracker, bringing you to the location. 

 

As he spoke he confidently walked towards the object. He seemed to have lost all sort of sadness of lack of confidence he had earlier. He was already feeling at ease with them, he felt like he had very little to lose by trusting them.

 

 

 

Edited by Stumbler

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