Special Delivery! [Quest | NPC]

Cho

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The Tabaxi sighed as he sunk back onto the bar stool, arching his back to lean on the bar itself. His tail swished and flicked from side to side feverishly — as if possessed by its own thoughts and feelings — betraying the feline’s outward, stoney expression. He tapped a clawed digit on the wooden exterior of his tankard and smacked his lips, fighting against a perpetual thirst; an unnatural thirst forced upon him by a less than happy deity. His gaze turned to Ratima and the “Shadow”, his expression shifting to somewhere between a scowl and a half-cocked grin. There was something about the Khajiit. His fur bristled and his nose itched at the thought.

“Blessed be..” he murmured, recognising the subtle signs from his otherworldly benefactor. Fish huffed and placed the tankard down. He spun on the bar stool, away from the bar and rolled his wrist. There, now resting in his gloved paw where there was nothing a split second earlier, sat a wicked, curved blade. He winced as it materialised in his palm, a visible plume of smoke rose from his paw as the blade singed the fur and seared at the skin below, leaving the scent of burnt hair and flesh hanging in the air. .

“Alright.. alright.. Gods above. I miss one payment and you act like I’m dodging it entirely… I couldn’t pay because I was in jail..” the rogue hissed quietly at the blade, “No thanks to you, I might add! What was that shit with tripping me? Almost like you wanted me to end up in that cell with the dog and her.”

He grumbled irritably and placed the blade down on his lap. The air around it seemed to thrum slightly, as if it wasn’t happy with being set down. Quickly, he retrieved the coin purse Ra had reverse pickpocketed onto his person and set it down beside the dagger. He took the blade up once again before placing the tip of it against the purse. Slowly, at first, the purse began to shift and warp until it was entirely consumed by the blade, disappearing entirely from this plane of existence.

“You fu- this is why I ended up in that cell, isn’t it? Nothing to do with my misfortune.. you wanted me to end up with this lot, didn’t you?” Fish growled at the blade, shiftily glancing from side to side to make sure nobody was eavesdropping in on his conversation… with a dagger.

“Oh you are good. A massive, massive bitch, but you’re good. Fine. I’ll stick with them. Do the job she’s given me. You’ll get your cut.. no more singeing my fur, though. It makes me paw feel off and I can’t pilfer goods with a fucked up paw, can I?”

He shook his head a few times with a grumble as he rolled his wrist once again. The blade faded into nothingness, retreating back to the pocket dimension She had created for the Rogue. He sighed in relief after taking a long drink from his tankard, the thirst finally abating as he swallowed the questionable alcohol. It didn’t matter to him in that moment, though. It tasted like the nectar of the gods and quenched every trace of thirst that ailed him.

He sat for a short while, a few seats away from both pairs of his compatriots. He didn’t have the energy to feign interest in their conversations and the drink was starting to pull a tipsy haze over him. The Tabaxi sighed into his cup and finished the rest of whatever Gerudo alcohol he’d been brought. A glint caught his eye, from behind the bar.

Caught in the flickering flames of lantern and candle alike, a shiny, nearly gold coloured mug hung from the central wall, obviously in a position of pride. Perhaps a hard earned trinket or just the barkeeps prized golden tankard. The trickster mused idly for a little while, mulling over his sticky fingered intentions before finally giving in.

Fish dug around in the component pouch that hung from his belt and produced a small piece of fleece which he rubbed between his clawed digits. The tankard seemed to shimmer for a moment as an exact replica of it settled within the same space.

He paused, glancing from side to side to make his initial spell had gone unnoticed. He dipped his chin a little and forced an innocent smile as both Ra’tima and Demetri glanced over at him. Had they noticed? He couldn’t be sure.

He returned the fleece to the pouch at his side and waited a few moments, taking occasional “sips” from his empty cup. Silently, the rogue weaved a spell, summoning his spectral, magical hand into existence, drawing on the latent arcane energies within him to cast the spell without the usual necessary incantation and patterns. Invisible to the naked eye, the arcane appendage floated beside the tankard. It wrapped its airy digits around the handle of the mug and prized it from its holding and quickly flew back to the Tabaxi. He could conceal his magical hand, but the floating tankard was something only speed and luck could conceal.

Fish stretched his arm above his head and yawned widely as the Mage Hand stuffed the tankard into his satchel, hopefully drowning out any noise.

Satisfied he’d gone unnoticed, at least he thought he had, the Trickster hopped down from the bar stool and, following another stretch, turned to head for one of the tavern's rooms for the remainder of the night.

“Well, uh, thanks for the assist today. I’ma get some sleep. It’s been a pleasure.. see you back in Uruk, I guess? Good night.”

He didn’t wait for any replies and he turned on heel and skulked away, directed towards a room for the night by the Gerudo.

He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and threw himself onto the, somewhat firmer than anticipated, bed with a grunt.
Word count: 1000/5000
Special Delivery! ... And a Live Tour?

Quest Giver: Ra'tima-dro (NPC | @Masahir N'air )
Quest Length: 5,000 words
Quest Location: Mesa Roja
Quest Prerequisites: Be 'Fish in the River' (NPC | @Cho )
Quest Reward: Standard
Repeatability: Unique
Quest Description:

Ra'tima-dro has had a couple of long days spent in Karim, causing hijinks as she begins to reform her Thieves' Guild. She has tasked this Tabaxian Rogue with delivering a sealed scroll case of documents back to her shop, The Golden Sands, in Uruk- a newer city located roughly two-to-three days travel away from Karim. He is to hand the delivery off to Masahir, and recite a specific cant, then he is to learn the rules that Ra'tima-dro has set for thieves working under her guidance.

Upon reciting the cant, Masahir will be interested in getting the rogue settled into the city, up to and including giving him a tour of Uruk while informing him of the aforementioned rules, and providing him with food and lodging, if he is willing. After completing the tour, Fish is more than welcome to rove around, as long as he abides the tenets he was just informed of. Generally speaking, the Five Tenets are as such:

1.) Do no harm nor heist while within Uruk's walls.
2.) Do not disrespect King Gilgamesh's authority.
3.) Never bring harm or humiliation upon the Guild.
4.) Do not harm or kill marks, nor your fellow guildmates.
5.) Never attempt to skimp on the Guild's cut.

 

Cho

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The bed frame squeaked under the Tabaxi’s weight as he tossed and turned, trying to find that one comfortable spot. He writhed and writhed to no avail before sitting bolt upright on the bed. He huffed as he fluffed the vaguely soft pillow to support his back as he sat up against the headboard. Fish rested his head back against the wall and flicked his ears, doing his best to reshape them after they flattened against his head whilst trying to get comfortable. He smacked his lips, the few hours that had passed since his drink in the bar had staled, leaving a less than palatable taste on his tongue. A flick of his wrist conjured the spectral appendage into existence, hovering idly a metre or so from his severed arm. The Rogue glanced down at his satchel on the floor and the Mage Hand responded, floating lazily down to the bag and lifting it up onto the Tabaxi’s lap. He scoffed in feigned surprise as an all too familiar twinge of pain radiated from the palm of his paw.

“No..” He started, speaking into the inky blackness of his room, “This one’s mine. It’s a cup for fuck sake. I’m keepin’ it.” The Tabaxi sighed and turned his satchel upside down and shook it vigorously. A moment later, the contents of the bag began to spill out onto the bed. More than would be possible to hold in a of this size. He huffed idly as he shook it a few more times, making sure he got the very last dregs of his stuff out. All sorts of odds and ends lay on the bed from cups to smaller pieces of art, scraps of paper to elegantly rolled scrolls, a small armoury, the purple felt bag and a crystal, about the size of his fist, that resembled a cats eye, but with a gouge hewn down the center.

“I’ve got fuck all else for you. See? Let me sleep would you, otherwise you ain’t getting any other cuts, I swear.” The Tabaxi pleaded, his arm thrown out to the side in protest, “I’m not fuckin about this time. You cut me off plenty of times.. I’ll cut you off-“

The unmistakable sound of an inferno filled the room. The feline shielded his eyes against the bright, flickering flame as he jolted and tried to get a bead on the source of the flames. Fish paused for a moment as he caught sight of the source of the sound and heat and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The candle next to his bed was burning far brighter than it would; the flame licking at the ceiling before dying down.

“Man. We really must be far from home.. you’re not doing so hot in the power department over here, are ya?” He exhaled, blowing a raspberry as he did, “You’ll get your next payment when I get paid. No sooner. Probably already got a bounty on my head for that shit you made me pull back there.”

He didn’t wait for a response this time, instead he rolled to face away from the candle and closed his eyes, swiftly drifting into a deep, thankfully uninterrupted, slumber.

***​

Fish awoke with the dawn. The sun just barely crested over the dunes of the desert, burning away at the inky shadows of the night just gone. He sat bolt upright in the bed as quickly as his eyes cracked open and set about stuffing his belongings back into the extradimensional depths of his Haversatchel, only mildly panicked.

“Shit.. fuck..” he cursed himself quietly as he fumbled with a variety of trinkets, “Should’ve been gone by now…”

He yanked his trousers back on with a groan, dressing with one arm while trying to pack his stuff up at the same time was never going to go well. He tripped on the hem of one of the legs and slammed into the ground with a heavy thud and a grunt, the wind forced out of his lungs. He recovered as quickly as he fell, rolling onto his back and hauling himself up. He tugged his hooded cloak over his ears and left the hood up as he stuffed the last items back into his bag.

In a complete contrast to his fevered movement moments ago, the thief took to sneaking from his room. He cracked his door ever so slightly and pressed his eyebrow up to it to glance down the hallway. Satisfied the coast was clear, he eased the door open just far enough to squeeze his slender form out and pulled it shut behind him, quietly. He winced as the hinge creaked and the lock clicked into place, quiet as it was.

To say he tiptoed would be an understatement. Light of foot as he was, the rogue managed to make his way to and down the stairs to the tavern below without making so much as a whisper. The night before the floor had creaked and groaned under any pressure.. Now, there was absolute silence. A practiced feline agility lent its hand to his escape from Malius’ safehouse.

He probably didn’t need to stage a daring, stealthy escape.. but he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a beat down at the hands of that Gerudo. Especially not for the sake of a bloody cup.

He left a couple of silver pieces on the bartop as he stalked through the dingy interior of the tavern. Fish approached the entrance door and lifted the catch. He slipped out of the tavern and was met with a somewhat fresh morning. He closed his eyes and craned his neck as the sun lavished it’s warm rays over him. At least until the door to the tavern slammed shut, having swung back on itself. The Tabaxi winced and froze in place for a mere moment before setting out into the sands.

“You twat..” he chortled to himself, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure there were no angry Gerudo chasing after him, screaming about cups and the like.

1016+1000 = 2016/5000
 

Cho

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With the safehouse a good distance behind him, Fish began to relax a little as he strolled, sauntered even, through the golden-red dunes of Mesa Roja. He clutched at the strap of his satchel and brought it round to his front. He unlatched it, opened the flap and plunged his hand inside. His thoughts turned to the lacquered scroll case the Nightingale had given him. As per the properties of his Haversatchel, his clawed digits closed around the smooth wooden case and he pulled it free of the extradimensional holding.

“Let’s see what this one”, he muttered in a vaguely mocking tone, “has gotten herself into, shall we?” He finished, his tone drawn out into a curious purr. The Tabaxi flexed a finger and extended a claw. He drew his claw along the seam of the case to cut the seal and opened it up. A few documents and letters expanded a little, threatening to spill out into the sand. Fish-In-The-River gave a quiet huff as he kept them in place with a finger and muttered the all too familiar incantation to summon his magical appendage into existence. The Mage Hand swirled and roiled, like an agitated cloud of smoke, as it assumed it’s form as the Rogue’s other hand. It extended towards the scroll case and pulled the first document out. It held it up in front of his face as he read it.

“Honeyed mead? Moonsugar..?” He murmured quietly. He’d heard mention of moonsugar by the Khajiit who called Karim home, though he’d never really had the mind to question them on what it actually was. It sounded like some space dust to him. Something from the outer reaches of the material plane, but that was all much too far fetched and he didn’t really have the patience to try and hash it out, so he glazed over it. The Mage Hand placed that document into his other hand before going to retrieve the second.

“Commerce fees?” He read with an audible groan, “Boring.” The spectral appendage stuffed that document into his hand as well and went about taking the third document and holding it out in front of the Tabaxi again.

“Sealed.” He muttered with another grumble. He considered leaving it be for all of half a second before the magical hand tore the seal free and he read Ra’tima-dro’s inquiry of ‘King Gilgamesh’s’ steward. Another mention of moonsugar was all that drew his attention. He shook his head with a sigh, nothing of any interest to the Tabaxi. Nothing he could pilfer. He passed the Mage Hand over the seal of the letter and channelled a different kind of spell, a cantrip, over the wax. The Mending spell pulled the wax back into place and reformed the seal, as if nothing had ever happened to it. Fish placed the documents back into the scroll case, closed it up and repeated the same process as with the sealed letter.

“Good as new..” Fish purred as he placed the scroll case back into his haversack, his curiosity well and truly abated for the time being, as mundane as the results were. He gave a sigh as he continued to trudge through the sweltering sands. He was used to heat, but this was different. He was raised in the tropical jungles of Maztica; humid and sweaty. But the desert was devoid of any moisture. What little sweat was produced was quickly absorbed into the sand below his exposed paws. He wrinkled his nose, his whiskers prickling as he sniffed the air around him.

He froze…

A cold shiver ran down his spine. One unfamiliar smell and then another, opposite sides of the trail he followed, from what he could tell, but he couldn’t see either source. He considered turning back for a moment but confident is his ability to talk his way out of a confrontation, he pressed on. However, he wasn’t stupid and he didn’t particularly fancy getting into a scuffle if he could avoid it. He drew on the latent magical potential within himself and produced an exact duplicate of himself. It continued to walk the path while Fish made himself scarce and dipped into the looming dunes. It didn’t take long for the sounds of a scuffle to ring out. The Tabaxi peaked over the sandy hill to spot a Khajiit and a taller, broader dark-skinned man diving at his duplicate, only to slip directly through it and into each other with a dull thud. He snorted dryly as he stepped up onto the dune and picked at his claws, doing his best to appear as unimpressed as possible.

“Well. You two must feel pretty dumb right about now, eh?” Fish teased, looking down his snout at the pair, “Look, I won’t tell anyone if you sod off and let me get on my way.” He offered, sarcastically, but he offered nonetheless. The Khajiit and Redguard had just about recovered as the Cat-burglar skidded down the sandbank and came to a gentle stop on the path. The Khajiit opened her mouth to speak to which Fish raised a single finger and shushed her.

“Not up for debate. Really. Just turn around and head back down that path and I’ll forget this even happened…” He was fully expecting this to go down like a lead weight either way, so subtly slipped a finger into his component pouch and rooted around until it was coated in a sticky, black substance. The Redguard was the first to pipe up this time.

“There’s two o-” He started as Fish wafted his hand around and expanded a shimmering, ethereal sphere out in front of him. He pushed the ethereal balloon out towards the pair of bandits and watched as their movements slowed down and the Redguards speech slurred as the time around them distorted; slowed by the Arcane Trickster’s spell.

The Khajiit, however, was disconcerting. Fish could see her figuring out what was what with his spell, slow as it might be. He squinted a bit but didn’t pay much heed. She was still slowed, afterall. Anything she did would be at half speed and he’d have more than enough time to react. At least, that’s what he thought. His fur bristled and his reflexes kicked in as a blur of movement caught his peripherals. The sneaky she-bandit had freed herself from the spell — probably much earlier than Fish thought possible — and had launched herself at him, a blade outstretched threatening to spill his guts all out into the sand. He reacted in the only way that his surprised mind allowed; screeching and ducking down into the sand as her blade whistled mere inches from his skull. He wheeled about and regained his composure as the Khajiit woman righted herself as well.

“Look, friends. I told you. You coulda just walked away, but you got greedy, I guess? Two on one isn’t that big of a handicap when time is halved for you.” Fish chortled, entirely glossing over the fact that she’d caught him completely off guard. His facade was far from stellar as he was visibly panting and struggling to regain his breath. She attempted to capitalise on his state and threw herself at him again. He was a little more prepared this time. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and used her own momentum against her as he yanked her forward off her footing. He followed up with a heavy kick to her lower back, sending her stumbling into her Redguard companion.

“Be a real shame if you couldn’t see, either, huh?” He raised his paw and snapped his fingers. The shimmering, ethereal balloon surrounding the bandits immediately shrank threefold and shifted to the blackest of blacks. An impenetrable abyss of darkness that not even the brightest of torches could dissipate.

“I’m gonna get going now.. If you can get out of there, good on you. It’ll disperse in like.. 10 minutes. But that’s, what, twenty minutes for you, I guess? Y’could just sit and wait it out. Either way, I’m off. Probably wouldn’t try this on the next lot that come down this path. They’re likely less into fuckin’ around like this.” He called back to the bandits in the sphere of Darkness as he set back off onto the trail to Uruk.

* * *​

Another day or so of walking saw the Tabaxi to the outskirts of the desert city; Uruk. He quickly flagged down a local and asked for directions to the Golden Sands.. Given that he wasn’t actually privy to that information. He sighed in resignation as he was told he had entered town on the wrong side and needed to trek all the way over the other side of the city to get to the shop. So, he set off again. Pushing through crowded market squares and busy alleyways alike, he dipped through the locals as if it were second nature to him.

Finally, he came to the Golden Sands, huffing a breath of relief as he entered. The Tabaxi stifled a gasp as he caught sight of the woman behind the counter. Ra said she was a rose, but man was that an understatement and a half. He immediately turned to face the door, licked the pad of his paw and slicked his ears and fur back with it. Fish put on his best suave voice and smoulder as he approached the counter and leant against it with a sleazy grin.

“Well, hello, beautiful..” he purred, “Weather’s lookin’ pretty crappy- ah shit- fuck..” he grumbled irritably, “That ain’t it.. Fuck..”

The young woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the man before giggling. “Yeah~? I don’t think I’ve heard that pick-up line before.”

“It’s a good’un, right?” He snorted a wry laugh, “Nah, for real, there was something about it being cold tonight I was s’posed to tell you, but I’m all up in my head and that, y’know. I can totally try and pick you up after ‘business is concluded’ or whatever.”

“You were ‘supposed’ to tell me about the weather?” She tilted her head a bit, pursing her thick red lips as she thought his words over, before she grinned widely. “What, who sent you, Uruk’s weather man? I’m flattered, but I’m on shift... Can’t really get away with sneaking off, or the owner will have my head~ ... Did you need to buy anything?”

“You’re clearly not sneaking off right if the owner finds out… I may have some experience in that particular area…” Fish shook his head adamantly, “Urgh.. no.. Really. Um. Ra’tima sent me. It’s uh fuck- Oh wait, got it! I hear it’s gonna be cold out in Uruk tonight!”

“Oh, cold out? That means it’ll be crystal clear- I hear they say cold nights make for the best weather to stargaze... Have you ever gone stargazing before?”

“Mhmm mhmm. Yep. It’s good weather for moon-gazing too, eh?” He wriggled his eyebrows, grinning coyly as if to elicit some sort of praise for his stellar recollection of the phrases he was supposed to say.

2016+1850 = 3866/5000
 

Masahir N'air

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Masahir snorted, scoffing at all his smarm and confidence over having finally remembered the phrases he was supposed to recite to her. Her smile and gaze never faltered as she stepped from behind the counter, walking over to the front door. She held the door, kicking the doorstop out from under the bottom.

She glanced at the couple of customers idling around the store, and rolled her eyes. “Alright everyone, sorry but the shop is closed.” She shooed them out and closed the door behind them with a push of her hips before turning back to face the tawny feline.

“So,” she stuck out her hand expectantly, “what did she send you with? A scroll case, right~?”

“Scroll case. Yup.” He dipped his hand into the Haversatchel and retrieved the scroll case. He placed it down on the counter and pushed it over towards Masahir.

The desert rose of a woman was quick to take the case, popping it open in with what had to be a practiced grace and taking a few moments to leaf through the documentation within. Commercial fees, inquiries... This looked like the product of the Khajiiti matriarch’s most recent mission on behalf of King Gilgamesh. Masa closed the case back up, stowing it away somewhere under the counter...

“Should I assume that you’re new to the beautiful Uruk? Your trip here from Karim must have been an ordeal- the desert sands aren’t all too kind to wanderers.” She couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of suspicion towards him, but if her áma had vouched for him, had sent him along with instructions and the cant... Well... Ra’tima-dro was always a better judge of character than her when it came to shady underground individuals.

He just....

He reminded her of someone she didn’t want to think about. Someone that she’d rather forget all about, and pretend had never happened.

“What’s your name by the way? Or, are you the type of rogue that lives for the utmost mystery?”

“Uh, not really... Fish-In-The-River. Most just call me Fish. It’s a whole thing... What about you?” He asked, hurriedly brushing past his full name.

She giggled. “I’ve got a bit of a mouthful of a name too, so I’ll just spare you the fumbling; you can just call me Masa or Masahir~”

He pondered a moment. “Name’s almost as pretty as you are.” He smirked.

The dancer couldn’t help but lean in towards him, feeding into his coy flirting. “Do you need a place to stay the night, or are you sweet-talking to me for just the fun of it~?”

“Why, are you offering?” He chortled and leaned in a little himself, “Both is a valid answer, right.. right? Gotta show you the real deal with sneaking out either way.”

“I might have an empty space in my sheets tonight... But you’ll have to prove a lil’ something to me first, after all, I can’t just give away my love for free completely~”

Fish quirked an intrigued brow, “Oh yeah? What’ve I gotta prove then?”

She flashed her bright smile at him, running a playful finger down the collar of her low-cut shirt to tease him with a bit more of her bare skin. “That you actually know how to have a good time, for one~ I’m a bit of a party girl, you could say... I like having good times, live for ‘em even~” She stuck the tip of her pink tongue out impishly. “If you wanna play ball, you’ll have to prove you can keep up with me babe.”

“That’s all?” He perked up a little, baring a toothy grin as he straightened up a bit, “Sweetheart, you show me the bar and I’ll show you a time and a half... I don’t know my way ‘round here just yet, so you’re gonna have to give me a guided tour… Also uh- I can make it look like you never left if needs be.”

“You should know that the owner is out-of-town... I’m sure we can slip out for a few hours if I locked up the shop.” Masa laughed nonchalantly, as if she had zero fears of repercussions from the Nightingale who’d given Fish his mission. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her... So as long as you don’t set anything on fire or land your fuzzy ass in jail, I think we’ll be fine~”

“You said you wanted a good time though...” his black lips curled into a toothy, wry grin, “I make absolutely no promises on either front. I know I can handle a little stint in jail... you on the other hand... I dunno. You’d have riots waged in your honor. Could go either way, y’know..”

“I wouldn’t be going to jail, it’s as simple as that... I have a certain way with persuasion, and way too many friends who’d just hate to see me so uncomfortable... But you, mister. You have rules to follow while working for mi áma-”

“Well, apparently it’s your job to tell me those rules.. so maybe you could hold off until tomorrow for that, hm?” The Thief leaned back in towards Masahir, closing the gap between them to little more than a couple of inches and waggled his brow again, his tone shifting playfully as his confidence swelled.

She narrowed her eyes at him before bracing her chin on her hand, letting him get as close to her as he wanted- as long as he didn’t touch her. “Yah hotshot we can totally put off the super important rules talk until tomorrow if you want~ I suppose you wanna wait to get paid until tomorrow too, right~?”

He hesitated.. the corner of his mouth twitching idly as he mused his next words carefully, “Well, shit. I mean, I’m penniless. Not a copper to my name.. new place 'n all that. But I’m pretty confident I can get us by without any money changing hands.. unless of course you fancy breaking the rules just a little, handing over the pay and then I can really spoil ya?”

A grin stretched across her dark red lips as he spoke. A very pleased expression was painted across her face as she gave a soft scoff, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head as she stared down at the hem of his collar. Was this broke bloke really encouraging her to break Ra'tima's rules and give him pay before agreed?

She chuckled softly, excitement trilling through her body at just the idea of that level of scandal.

Masa’s big dark eyes flicked up to the tabaxian’s green ones, gazing at him with a pleased smolder as she trailed her fingers along his collar, playing with the blue fabric. “You know...” she whispered breathlessly, “going out and spending the night on the town with you sounds amazing~” She brushed her free hand under his chin, tracing his silky jawline. “You seem like a man who really knows how to enjoy his time, but...”

She paused wistfully, as if a sadness had settled on her, before her expression pulled a cheeky one-eighty. “Ra has one major rule hunny: don’t fuck with her money. Sorry babe~” Masa put on the most dramatic frown as if to impishly chide him as she pulled back from the counter. She turned her back to him, running her lithe hands through her curly mane to fuss with pulling it back into a puffy ponytail. "I will give you credit for the ballsy attempt though, confidence is pretty damn sexy."

Fish may have thought that he was being slick, sneaking a long gaze at her ample rear while she was turned away from him, but she could feel the weight of his curiosity and sly interest.

He huffed a sigh, “Hey, where’d that “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her” attitude go?” He pulled back a bit more to stand straight for a moment. Sure, he was trying to keep eyes on the prize, not so subtly after a while. He was sure that she knew exactly what she was doing and he played along for the time being. “Like I said, though, we don’t necessarily need coin to have a good night. I’ve.. got my ways. I’m sure you’re clued in, what with who owns the place. Your choice, sweetheart.”

Masa smacked her lips and shot him a bit of an incredulous look. “All you have to do to get paid is listen to the rules, I don’t really even see why you want to put it off~ It’s not like it’s some ancient, crusty mamotreto with a bajillion pages that you gotta read or something. You got an aversion to it or something hun?”

“Rules? Sure. Why, don’t you?” Fish quirked a brow and rolled his wrist a few times, “Rules are.. rules are dull. But, If it’s what you’ve gotta do, it’s what you’ve gotta do, I guess. Hit me with ‘em and I’ll try my best to stick to ‘em all night.”

“Well, money makes everything easy to deal with, doesn’t it? Besides, some rules have a good enough reason to at least consider them. First things first, you should never bring harm or humiliation to the guild. Reputation matters. Keep yourself clean, don’t catch a big-ass rep as a problem with the city guards, and don’t make us a laughing stock. It should go without saying that if you bring the wrath of the law down on us by being a dumb idiot, your hide will make Ra’tima-dro a nice throw-rug.” She leaned on the counter again, whispering softly to him- that smile playing on her lips once again. ”She likes to keep souvenirs if you piss her off enough, and nothing stokes that fire faster than recklessness getting your fellow guildies killed."

“Secondly," she perked back up, as chipper and casual as one could be, "we have deals and connections to most of Uruk’s upper crust. Unless you get a job from the boss to specifically hit one of their estates, don’t mess with the elite. That’s for your safety as well as ours, most of ‘em are pretty damn dangerous people anyways.”

“Third- and now, I’ll let you in on a bit of a secret with this one: the owner of this place is insane with money. Like, no fucking joke babe, it’s like she sees the world in math and numbers first. I’ve never seen her make a mistake counting coins, even by weight, and the backups of her ledgers have backups. What I’m saying is it’d be really stupid of you to try to be slick and skimp the guild on it’s fair cut for any jobs you get through us. Won’t get you killed, but it will get you kicked out to the curb.”

“Next, try not to badmouth the King in public. Not a good look, Uruk’s got a lot of loyalists to the crown and we don’t need enemies in our home. Finally: we’re professional thieves, not thugs or assassins. A dead mark can’t make payments after all~ We’re in the business for profit, not revenge.” She paused, looking him over. “Got all that, handsome?”​
 

Cho

Avatar-in-Training
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The Tabaxi cocked his head a little and picked at his ear with a claw, feigning boredom as Masahir reeled off the rules he was expected to follow.

“Yeah I got it. Really, though, no bad mouthing the King? Not even if he’s a dick?” Fish-in-the-River quirked a brow, though his tone shifted a little, letting Masa in on the joke.

“Not where anyone important can hear you, at least~ Keep the shittalking behind closed doors, because it’s by his grace that I- and the rest of this city and its beautiful people- and our guild, exists. Allies are important after all~”

Fish tapped the bridge of his nose and nodded a few times, “Gotcha. You’re pro-King, then, hm?” He enquired, seemingly with genuine curiosity. A little part of him wanted to blabber on about how all the Kings he’d met back home had, in fact, been dicks.. but better minds prevailed and he left the question as just that.

The woman pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. “I am... pro-THIS-king, yeah. I don’t really remember much before him, and I know that he is the man who summoned me to the last world we lived in.” She rested her hand on her chin, then motioned like she was dismissing whatever thought she had. “It’s actually this whole complicated thing now that I think about it- are you a native, Fish?”

“Yeah… that sounds like a lot. And I’m much too sober to attempt to comprehend it. Native? To here? No. I’m from Faerûn. Been here a little while, though, I just.. woke up in an alleyway in Karim. Genuinely thought I’d had one too many, blacked out and ended up on some other continent, but uh, no. Pretty sure it’s Her doing, but that remains to be seen for sure.” Fish rambled a little. He gestured to his head at Her mention and rolled his eyes, “It, too, is a whole thing.”

“... Faerûn~?”

“Uh-huh. That’s the reaction I’ve gotten from most when I said where I’m from. Apparently, it’s some completely separate plane of existence to this one.. y’know, like the plane of fire or something. I knew cross-plane travel was possible, but only for ridiculously good wizards and like, deities or whatever. I don’t really get it or understand what’s happened.. I’m just rolling with it. I’m not dead, I don’t think, so it can’t be that bad, right?” Fish chortled loudly and scratched at his snout for a moment.

“Well, I’m from another place called the Endless Dunes, but one day me and Ra walked out of a building... And found ourselves on Opealon? I think jumping planes is... normal? For wherever these Crossroads are.”

“It’s all a bit head-fucky, really, right? Frazzles the brain good and proper. I’ll just take it for what it is and accept this as my new home.. until I’m yanked to the next plane for whatever purpose the Gods decide.” He shrugged nonchalantly before tapping a clawed digit on the counter, “You’ve done your rules now, though, right? Fancy giving me the guided tour of bars to frequent?”

The dancer smiled broadly and warmly, “Of course, good-lookin’~ One thing first: what type of bar suits your fancy best? Nightclubs~? Dive bars~? Sports bars~? Uruk has quite a lot of places to have an exciting night~”

“Pretty sure I suit dive bars best, but you.. you look like you’d be more at home in a club. What d’you say to starting off in a dive bar and then heading somewhere a little more your style?”

She nodded eagerly. “I think I know just the place- you have a preference between like, uh, say beers, meads and stouts, and harder liquors? ... How fast do you want to hit the ground~?”

“No real preference, nah. I’ll take what I can get! Not much room for fussiness when your coin’s limited.” He mused idly, rubbing his chin, “Wouldn’t wanna hit the ground too quick, gotta enjoy the ride a bit!”

Masahir giggled, reaching under the counter and retrieving a pouch of coins, tossing it to the Tabaxi. It was perhaps a larger payday than he was expecting, he bounced the bag in his hand, judging its weight. “It’s uh- two hundred, right?” He snorted, “Yeah, no, I’m not gonna try and keep up with her and the counting thing..”

“There’s a few platinums in there. Consider it three-fifty. Hopefully that’s enough for you to enjoy tonight at least, yeah~?” She made her way around the counter, coming up beside him and stroking up the back of his full arm in a playful tease. She took his hand and pulled him towards the door. “I’m officially off-shift~”

“Heh- time for some fun, then, eh? Where to first? I don’t know my arse from my elbow in this town.” Fish chortled and gave the dancer’s arm an enthusiastic tug out into the streets of Uruk, “Best uh- best get to spendin’ this real quick, y’know?” The spectral Mage Hand jostled the heftier-than-expected pouch before tucking it away in his satchel.

People moved in thrums through the streets, carrying about with their daily business and hustling too and fro. The entertainer’s voice cut clear through the noise. “Well, there is this one dive, The Jaunty Maiden, they have deliciously refreshing mimosas- did they have mimosas in uh, you said... Faerûn, right? Did they have drinks like that in those lands?”

“Mimosa? Never heard of that.. Sure we had drinks.. But uh, mostly mead and stouts. There was wine and spirits, but they were either shitty, expensive or under lock and key. There wasn’t an in between.”

“Let me guess, only the elite had the pockets and taste for them? What a shame, but oh well, you’re here now... So... I will make sure that you get to try out some cocktails and mixed drinks~ Good ones go down so smooth you don’t taste the sharp of the alcohol, but you get all of the fun~”

“That’s the basic gist of it, mhmm. Right, well, these drinks best live up to my expectations now.” He grinned a little as he guided the pair along the streets with a practised grace, dipping through the crowds, narrowly avoiding any collisions along the way. He mused a moment and his ears pricked up as the familiar jangling of a mass of coins echoed out from the pockets of a passer-by. The Tabaxi gave the person a quick once over, going as far as glancing over his shoulder to get a better look, all the while mhmm’ing and doing his best to keep up with the conversation with Masa. He gestured quickly with a nod of his head and his Mage Hand fluttered out of the visible spectrum and floated over to the bloke with all the coin. He didn’t go for the coin, though. He knew better. She wanted his coin. Instead, he lifted the guy’s stuff. A silver pocket watch and a pouch of what Fish would later find out was a rather popular tobacco for the area.

“-so I was telling Damien, ‘dude, you have to show me how you make your drinks’, because our patrons at The Crimson Lily are always talking about how they’re pretty strong, knockin’ their socks off and all that. Love that man, and the club- it’s just a bit pricier and uh- well. I usually work there on the weekends. I don’t want any of the regulars bothering me thinking I’m on-shift at The Lily, yanno?” She’d noticed, well, moreso felt his attention divide itself. She could hear it in his voice, how he was suddenly not as invested in her words. He was distracted by something, and she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was.

Masa poked her head forward, trying to catch a peek at his fuzzy face. He noticed and shot her his best nonchalant and casual smile. Her curious gaze told him that she’d caught him doing something suspicious, and she was more than likely already running down a list of ‘best guesses’. The Tabaxi gave a soft murr, nudging her arm and presenting her with the silver watch as a gift.

“Looks better on you anyways..” He grinned, dangling the watch from its chain for a moment before handing it over, “Play your cards right, you may be in for plenty more where that came from.”

She took his ‘gift’, smirking back at his boastful swaggering. “Oh~?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “next time you lift, lift something golden so it matches my other jewellery, okay baby?” The diva laughed, pocketing the watch in the front pocket of her jeans. “But if we’re in the business of showing off, allow me to preform~”

She slipped her hand out of his, wandering up to one of the stalls along the street, a man peddling various accessories- scarves, headwraps, necklaces, bracelets, rings and piercings. The woman leaned in, gazing at the trinkets and shinies when the shopkeep noticed her. He rushed up to the counter, staggering when he really got a look at her.

“Hola señor, I was just looking for some new rings to help really accentuate my manicure~” She reached a hand out so he could see her decorated nails, painted in red and gold with little white diamonds pressed along the inner edge of her cuticles. The shopkeep eagerly took her hand in his own, fishing the collection of rings from the case and peering over them.

The man, Yanzu- he’d informed her, was quick to figure out her size, swapping rings that she pointed out on and off her fingers until it looked just right. He studied his handiwork, beaming at her with a very pleased smile. “Like a work of art~”

She grinned back, nodding as she gazed at the gilded additions to her hand, “I am a work of art, mi amor~”

“You were born to wear these rings.” He asserted in agreement, holding her hand in both of his now.

“They belong to someone as beautiful and dazzling as me, don’t they~?” She asked, leaning her chin in her free hand and beckoning him closer to whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t you love giving them to me~? It would make me so happy...”

Yanzu looked up at her with wide, awed eyes, as if he was truly noticing her for the first time, and nodded eagerly. “Of course, it would be an honour to give you such a gift...”

Masa rewarded the man with a kiss and her thanks, then retreated back into the crowd to meet with her Tabaxian company- who was staring at her curiously. Now that had been some charm magic if he’d seen any, because she had walked away with ten new golden rings free of charge and with no one really being the wiser. She gave Fish an amused, tittering giggle. “You have your ways, I have mine~”

3866+1853=5719 Quest complete!
 
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