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notmuch_23

Ficheur and Chips [Quest]

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Nadia had been working the register at the Mil Dot Port Kyros for a few weeks, and the shock of a small fox handling things has worn off. Things here are priced in ravens and chips, because ravens are worth 100 chips, and it forms a decimal pricing system much like dollars and cents or pounds sterling and pence. That makes Merlins like ten-dollar bills, and hawks like hondos Not worth that much, but that kind of system.

It's the hawks that have a problem though, or more specifically, some hawks. Yes, guns tend to be expensive, and some rifles, with 500 rounds of certain types of ammo can cost enough to justify paying with a hawk. Nadia, like all other radar foxes, has been blessed with a giant olfactory reception surface inside her nose, and a giant olfactory bulb between the lobes of her brain. It lets her smell the difference between each and every sapient being, all sorts of items, and surprisingly, even metals!

That's why Nadia is sitting at the register, rubbing hawks in her hands then sniffing her palms; a few of them just don't smell right, and she's smelled that off scent before, but just doesn't know where. They've passed the acid, touchstone, and density tests, but Nadia just canNOT shake that smell! Is that normal?

@danzilla3 @L E V I A T H A N

Edited by notmuch_23

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Port Kyros was a wondrous place.

While they waited for their new home to be built, Ren had suggested that he and his students take the opportunity to explore the city. Almost immediately he had been enchanted by the blend of cultures evident in every facet of the port. The architecture was breathtaking, colorful buildings and exquisite statues doting the landscape. Local cuisine was like nothing he had tasted before; especially the wide variety of tropical fruits on offer. The views on offer were equally spectacular. From the safety and comfort of a cafe, he could fully appreciate the beauty of the ocean.

But now he was in search of something new. As he had sipped from a cup of tea, he had heard a couple speak of a store tended to by a talking fox. Having never encountered anything of the sort before, he decided to make his way there. Now he walked through the door of the Mil-Dot Port Kyros to see a fox seemingly inspecting some coins.

"What vexes you, my small friend?"

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If Yu Yi Ren wanted to see something new, he certainly would here. From the doors opening on their own, the electric lighting, and the firearms in the cases and against the wall behind the counter cases, very little in here aside from the decor can be found anywhere else in Port Kyros.

Nadia is still rubbing coins in her hands and sniffing the metal residue left on them, though she's now on the Merlins, and there are some that don't smell quire right, just like the Hawks. though since she has out the equivalent of at least hundreds of thousands of dollars, and there's nobody using the range, Zerrorth, a half-copper half-lead female dragon polymorphed into humanoid form stands guard, brandishing an assault rifle, with the muzzle currently pointed towards the floor.

9 hours ago, danzilla3 said:

"What vexes you, my small friend?"

"Some of these coins don't smell right," Nadia transmits through the RF converter box under her neck, "did any of the mints just change the metal composition of their Hawks and Merlins?"

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    Kumara moved through the settlement of Port Kyros, Genesaris' Terran Consulate. One of a few established points in The Rising West. One could spend months exploring the West, an undisturbed haven with its own atmosphere about it.. Perhaps it was where the Port resided, as well as the Forest that would be known as Brehill to the world in due time. Perhaps it was divine favor? The Empress, even? No one had a clue yet. But those attuned could feel it: in the air and the earth and the sea, even the heat of the sun. Torches had more life here, even! This demesne was vast and powerful all on its own -- something the Matreyan Nations within Khaiperion were fully aware of.

 

    The Enforcer bore grace as he traveled through the streets of the mercantile district, even bearing some form of grace as he inquired with various stores about counterfeit currency circulating. Some had problems, and some were unaware until he spoke it from his own lips. Always a funny thing, when one spills the truth on the unknowing. Justice was his Creed, with diligent service to his people being the muse in which he put his efforts into. The Law was his greatest investment of his own personal time. Orphaned and abandoned, he was found as one of a few survivors in a slave settlement. A then-Enforcer Senior Lieutenant, pending high rankings into Administration and Lawmaking for the political world of Khaiperion as it would come to be known. He could not have known who or what the boy was.. but now, it was time for the world to know and to be endowed with his rich spirit.

 

    For now, though, he would finally come to visit the Mil Dot Port Kyros and its automatic doors that would greet him and all other customers. to his surprise -- not that it would show -- there was a fox and a man.. but the fox was at the register.

 

"Some of these coins don't smell right," Nadia transmits through the RF converter box under her neck, "did any of the mints just change the metal composition of their Hawks and Merlins?"

 

"No, They Did Not. The fact you can tell a difference means that is also fake.. Someone has been flooding our market with false coin. You are not the only store." He grimaced, shaking his head as he stood on attention. 
 

"Enforcer Kumara: here to investigate these financial injustices." He bowed to them a bit with hands together, golden eyes settling upon the two before him.

 

   His voice was smooth as silk, deep and rich. On duty, though.. it bore power -- people say it was something similar to a flip being switched. His serious tone commanded a room; it did the same in battle and during instruction. He was not one to sit back while people were robbed of their funds and left with contraband that they could circulate into the surrounding economy. To save face and honor, Kumara set out to listen to his people. 

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"But these are reeeeeally great fakes then," Nadia "tells" Enforcer Kumara, "I did an acid test, a touchstone test, and a density test, short of actually drilling into the coin. So how could other merchants, or even you, tell that these are fake? Did the enforcers drill into suspect coins?"

Drill...

...that word triggers something in Nadia's memory.

"Wait a second, I think I may have almost identified the 'wrongness' I smelled," Nadia transmits before hopping off the stool and trotting to the back. A few minutes later, she emerges with a container of drill bits in one hand, still using both to walk. then she gets back up onto the stool, opens the reusable container, rubs the tip of one in her left hand, and a suspect hawk in the other, and smells one hand, then the other a few times.

"Okay, these don't have exactly the same smell, but really fucking similar."

Of course, the drill bits she got are tipped with tungsten carbide.

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Ren bowed slightly to Kumara, showing the proper amount of respect to the law enforcement official. He had been unaware of the counterfeit money circulating through the markets of Port Kyros, though that was hardly surprising. The average citizen was unlikely to be aware of crimes which did not directly affect them. As long as the coins in their wallets could pay for their food and rent, that was all they needed to know. But now that he knew, he couldn't help but wonder.

Pulling a few coins from his wallet, he held each in one hand and tuned his spiritual senses to the objects. Money, like anything else a person touched, often absorbed a sort of imprint from that person. The more people had touched an object, the more imprints would be present. Sure enough, the coin in his left hand bore the imprints of thousands of people. The one in the left had only a few.

"I believe this I have found another false coin," he said, putting it on the counter. Focusing on the coin the fox held, he spoke again, "And you are correct. That coin is also a fake."

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"Well, what now?" Nadia asks, "if ya got a place where the counterfeiters, and only the counterfeiters were, I could sniff them out."

Nadia looks at the label on the drill bit set, printed in English.

"Do either of you know anything about...

...tungsten carbide?"

Zerrorth pipes up. "Tungsten carbide is a hard compound. Not the hardest, but it's up there. Tungsten metal is brittle, and has a really high melting point. It also has the same density as gold."

Nadia looks at her.

"Whaaaat? I'm a metallic dragon; metals interest me."

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"I have personally handled every coin in every store that I have moved through. My hands seem to know more than most mundane testing." he mused, twisting his splayed out hand back and forth at the wrist.

 

In truth, he bore a sort of psychometric touch that divined whether the coin was Khaiperi in mint or from outside forces. With his father being a prominent figure in the world of Khaiperi Law, he found it more and more his duty to hammer out the impurities of the lands under their beloved Laa'zera. For her, for her cause, for her people: Kumara fought for all of these, but above all Justice was his backbone. It was not a love for his father or his ideologies, but something born into him beyond any other influence; a shining light in a growing land with growing opposition and a growing population who did not need, but would benefit from a guiding light and sharpened sword that would fight for what was right.

 

"Perhaps we can work with a collection of the countefeit coin, rather than just working with one. I've grabbed a few significantly fresh and kept them separate from the rest, here." 

 

From his hip came a sack of counterfeit coin, with a smaller pouch bundled to the knotwork cinching the sack. He had collected and reimbursed the unfortunate victims of these counterfeit currency situations as best he could, leaving notes with his signature for reimbursal once he ran out of physical coin to compensate with. An adjustment was made to his headgear, fitting it better after placing the sack and pouch on the counter top in front of Nadia.

 

"Are there large deposits of Tungsten in this area? Mountains, meteorite impacts? Waterways?" He asked, more openly than directly to the fox before him. 

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"No clue," Nadia says as Zerrorth shrugs, "but smelting it would take a fuckton of energy. Probably look into movements of large amounts of charcoal or coke, large amounts of electrical generation, or large amounts of magic usage."

Yes, tungsten makes a great stand-in for gold if done correctly, but the energy required to melt it will give these criminals away.

It"s one thing to know where, but it's quite another to bring them down.

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Ren didn't know enough about Port Kyros to know where facilities capable of producing the metal the fox was speaking of. Still, he thought there might be another way for him to help.

"I might be able to locate the production facility if they are indeed using magic to create these counterfeits. Once I'm in the general vicinity of the forge, I would be able to sense such a powerful source of supernatural energy. Is there perhaps some kind of industrial district, somewhere where such a process would go unnoticed?"

Perhaps some would find it odd that a martial arts master would randomly volunteer to help a fox and a guard break a counterfeiting ring, but that was the Tiandi way. Strength and knowledge for their own sake were meaningless. Only when used for the betterment of one's fellow man did power have meaning.

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"Either way, we can't do shit standing around here," Nadia transmits to the converter before putting all the coins she was inspecting into a bag, hopping down from the stool, balancing that bag on her back, and taking it to the vault.

When Nadia re-enters the sales floor, she's wearing a black, armored, tactical vest, which has a pistol holstered between her front arms. The radar fox then opens a few cabinets in succession, to get more magazines for her pistol, a box of .45 ACP hollow-point rounds, and a Bowie knife, sets the box of rounds and empty mags on the counter, then climbs back up to the stool.

"Something tells me these criminals aren't going down without a fight; they rarely do. Y'all need any hardware?"

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"Quite the fitted fox, if I do say so myself." he mused.

 

      This was turning out to be more and more intriguing of an self-appointed assignment.

 

                                        "Something tells me these criminals aren't going down without a fight; they rarely do. Y'all need any hardware?"

 

"I need no such thing, thank you. The Market rings, proper and illicit, within the districts ought to lend us a way to find the tungsten, but I would wager they are working underground or someplace remote.. Wicker Mountains, even. Alethea is known for many mingling types.. especially the kind we ought to be wary of. If we can find our way to the fences and forge, we might be able to reap fruit from our labor sooner than later. " He bowed his head to the fox who now loaded and racked herself with weaponry and other accouterments. 

 

     A whirl of his wrist brought forth his blade, sheathed and hanging from the cord that would find suspension upon his form if it were not in his hand. The blade bore curve, though nothing ridiculous or familiar to a scimitar or samshir. No, it was a form of dao that, when used in acts of righteousness, found harmony with the spirit of the wielder that was Kumara. Something he had been ingrained with was such : Preserve your blade for the blood of unjust. Let the innocent find peace in its presence.. and the opposition great terror in their hearts as they reflect on their decisions leading them to such untimely encounters.

 

      Kumara was ready, and had quietly turned to face the door, though he kept his head poised for listening in a slight turn of the head so that he might be able to glance them down if they speak. Otherwise, he was gearing up in his mind the various places they might come across as they hunt across the West for their criminals of import.

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((Well, since it's been so long...))

"Well, might as well start at the closest market," Nadia says as she heads out the door, both halves sliding open as she approaches.

The Port Kyros open marketplace to Nadia was just a sea of legs to dodge. It's reeeeally hard to see who's selling what, or where to go when you only approach knee hight to the rest of the people. It's just cloth, sandal, cloth, sandal, hairy skin, cloth, sandal, cloth, sandal, cloth, sandal, smooth skin, rib kick.

"YeAAAAAAH!" Nadia yells from her own vocal cords. Of course the offender doesn't even break stride "and FUCK you too asshole!" That last one is of course from the converter box. Radar fox vocal cords and tongues are not well suited for humanoid languages; she's tried.

"I hope either of you can see better than I can; it's hard to get any meaningfully coordinated air currents down here."

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