A few minutes ago saw Arkold in the company of Wynona, Chiaroscuro, Envoy, and Haskalah; now he's been dragged off by a mysterious black mare with a vicious attitude, lots of knives, and a pink hair ribbon, who explains that there's someone very important who'd like to see Arkold… If he wants to learn about an interesting opportunity. A few minutes ago, Arkold was feeling quite safe and on top of the world…

S'Lezan is a fancily dressed rat – one might go so far as to say foppish, unless one was a noble used to such dress – with a taste for purple. He sits at one side of a table, with a small entourage surrounding him – sword and dagger sheaths are quite visible. Carousel completes the enclosure of the wolf. "Yeah, this is the boss," she says. "He wants to talk to you. You've got a minute, right?"

S'Lezan motions to a stool in front of the table; black liquid sloshes from his mug with the gesture. "Have a seat, boy. Drink? Wild Turkey Black." He looks up and down at the wolf, assessing him.

Arkold umms and nods, "Why yes… I'm quite free." he says, deciding to be extra careful on what he says from now on. He takes the seat, "Thank you, and yes I would like a glass."

S'Lezan gestures to a caracal nearby, distinguished by thigh-high boots and flaring white sleeves on his blouse, and a rapier at his belt. "Slyboots, pour our friend a drink. He'll need it." The rat flashes a sharp grin as the caracal picks up a carafe and pours some sludge-like black liquid into another mug and sets it before Arkold.

Arkold places his paw around the glass but does not sip. Instead, he leans forward slightly in a gesture of interest and asks, "So I am told by your assistant you are in need of me sir… ?"

The rat leans forward. "Allow me t'introduce m'self. I am S'Lezan… " He pronounces the name 'Seh-leh-zahn'. "Think of me a 'friend of the family… The brotherhood that encompasses all of us who walk in the night, if you get my drift. Those awake when 'good' citizens are fast asleep."

"And you are?" the rat asks.

Arkold tries his best not to act nervous, and is doing a fairly good job he thinks, despite the rumors he's heard of these kind of encounters. He nods, "I am Arkold. I believe you could call me a night walker as well." He smiles slightly.

S'Lezan nods. "As I have been given to understand." He grins gape-toothedly and drinks from his mug, looking pointedly at Arkold and the wolf's untouched mug. "Natch, you'll understand, any good family sticks together. Brothers don't steal from brothers, we don't tell on each other. S'there's a problem, we deal with it ourselves. So hey, when I hear there's a new pursesnatcher workin' the Bazaar, I think, 'Hey, maybe he just hasn't had time to come and pay his respects'."

Arkold nods and hmms, not saying a word while he ponders this situation… He takes the mug and brings it to his lips, taking a very small sip to 'check' the flavor.

It tastes like grape-flavored sludge… But somewhat sour and very alcoholic.

"So hey. A few days later. No new brother to say hi, show around, introduce to the family a bit." S'lezan waves his hands. "I figure, maybe he just needs a friendly reminder. Maybe he'd like to know there's family around. Pay his respects to the local brother."

Arkold nods and drinks a bit more. "If I have offended you I am sorry… " he says, tilting his head slightly in that look of Jupani questioning.

S'Lezan shakes his hand. "Nah. It happens. People get things on their mind, they forget little things like who they owe their good fortune to. Or maybe they got something they don't want to talk to their brother about." He raises an eyebrow. "Tell me, 'Arkold', iffen I send off to a 'friend of the family'… " There's a way that he pronounces those words that makes it certain he's talking about a very specific someone. "Am I gonna find out you're a good brother, or maybe that you need adopting?"

Arkold nods and smiles, ears perking up slightly. "I will try my best to impress you, sir. Am I to believe you have someone in mind for me?" he says.

S'Lezan leans forward again, thunking the heavy stone mug on the table. "All right, boy, let me say it nice and slow so you c'n follow. Around here, the Temple's a light sleeper. It don't like more than a little bit of noise in Darkside. So, we family, we try and keep it just the right bit of quiet at night. An' that means, no one walks at night but I say so, or another brother like me. We like to keep it in the family, y'see. Iffen you're not in the family, we… 'discourage' you from walking at night. Iffen you *were* in the family, you'd have come and paid yer respects already. And iffen you *want* to be in the family… " He draws this off and looks at Arkold meaningfully.

Arkold nods as he listens, and when S'Lezan stops says, "And I do want to be in the family… "

The rat beams. "Good. I'd hate to have to lean on a nice Jup like you look like. Can't stand big sad puppy eyes. All right then. Slyboots here, he's been watching you for a while. Says you have decent technique. A bit Eastern, like they got around Abu Dhabi, but pretty good. Tell you what, we'll charge you a 'lil 'processing fee', like what the Temple's got… " He chuckles here, and his entourage laughs dutifully. "An' give you a first time job, see how you do. Iffen you do it right, I'll tell a 'friend of the family' that you're all right in my book. Gehnoh?"

Arkold nods and smiles, his tail flicking, "I understand, sir. I will try and make the family proud."

"Good, that's the kind of attitude I like to see. Here's t'yer future in the family!" S'Lezan toasts, and evidently expects Arkold to take a deep swig as he does. *glug*

Arkold decides hesitating to take a sip would be in very bad taste, so takes a swig too and tries not to choke.

The rat grins broadly and laps black ooze from his muzzle. "So let's get down to business. 'taint much, but just enough to let a 'friend of the family' know you're serious… Fer the processing fee, let's say, one gold." He holds his hand out.

Arkold nods and places his money pouch on the table, "That should cover it, sir."

"Ah! Very good. I knew when you walked in," S'Lezan says cheerily as he takes the gold shekel and puts it away. "There's someone who was born to be in the family. Gets along well with his brothers. Likes to go for the big jobs, not scrape along with quarter-ante jobs. All right now, to the assignment… "

S'Lezan leans forward. "Now, being part of a family, you don't always get to go for the glamorous jobs like looting the big houses out in the country. You're just starting out, you've still gotta prove yourself a little, show that you can do the dirty work, not just lift purses. You understand that, right?"

Arkold nods and his tail wags a bit. "Cannot do the big jobs all the time, or else they wouldn't be big. Yes I understand." he answers.

S'Lezan pats Arkold's hand. "Good, good, Arkold. You'll go far in this business. So then… " He taps his mug, then takes another drink and wipes his rattish muzzle. "There's this squeaker in Scholar's Quarters, runs an antique store. Behind the scenes, he finds new homes for things that get lost and find their ways into our hands… Get my drift?"

Arkold grins a little. "A resale man," he says, nodding.

"So, like he's had some troubles, needed to borrow a bit from our mutual 'friend'. It's no shame. Everyone does it now and then when they have hard times. But, thing is, when someone borrows a bit, he's got to pay it back, on time. That's the mark of someone dependable. Someone to be respected." S'Lezan raises his eyebrows. "This squeaker, his account's a bit overdue. I need someone to go an' remind him that we like payments prompt."

Arkold nods, "I understand sir. Sometimes furs have to be reminded." His ear flicks.

The rat nods back. "Right. I knew you'd catch on quickly to this business. So, Carousel'll give you directions. You remind him I'm expecting his payment of two gold by sundown tomorrow. If you've got to remind him a little hard, well, it happens. But don't kill him, our 'friend' doesn't think dead people are very good at paying debts. Got that?"

Arkold nods and smiles a bit. "Never seen a dead man carry a purse," he jokes.

"Good. The name's Achimed the Glove, an' the place is… "

Arkold has made a change of clothes since he left S'Lezan's place; a nice blackcloak that covers his noble attire fairly well, and some extra money.

The shop seems to be quiet today, and even the patrons of the coffee shop next door are snoozing, an ermine laying with his head pillowed by a large yellowed tome of some sort. Evidently the black steaming mug near him has done little good in keeping him awake. Through the greasy front window of Achimed the Glove's shop can be seen a vaguely rat-shaped shadow moving about, adjusting displays.

Arkold walks along the street thinking about what the family has told him, and wonders what fate this poor merchant has in store for him. He hates having to rough up some poor old rat, but hey, that's the business. Arkold looks around and mutters to himself, "Must be the place… " He steps inside.

Behind the counter is a rat who contrives to look like a cheap hood in an expensive outfit of velvet and silk. His left hand is gloved and he never moves the fingers on it; his right is bare, and he is presently using it to clean rust carefully from the inside of an old-looking ship's clock. He looks up as the bells over the door ring. "Ah! A customer," he barks. "Come in, come in, look around. Achimed's Used Things. Very good deals. Very good quality."

Arkold nods and looks around for a moment, then steps closer to the rat, "I'm here for something in particular. I'm here to shop for the family." He is sure to put an emphasis on the family, one the rat should understand.

"Ah! This item I am working on, dating from venerable old ages indeed, it would make a marvelous mantelpiece display," Achimed says cheerfully. "Just look at that brass varnish, the fine workings of the dials. Truly a tribute to craftsmanship of those who have gone before. Don't you think your house would be much beautified? Or if you speak of some toys for the cubs perhaps… " He tries very hard to look like an innocent shopkeeper.

Arkold places his paw on the rat's shoulder, and tries his best to look like he means business. "I think the family is more interested in what you can give us… " he says with a low, very slight, growl.

"A good deal at low prices?" Achimed quips, looking unimpressed.

Despite his apparent nonchalance, however, Achimed sidles sideways along the counter towards the curtains that prevent customers outside from seeing into the back room. His hands go under the counter.

Arkold hmms, thinking this approach must have been tried before, he tries something else, "You know, the family is very generous, and they do a lot for their friends… But you see, favours should be repaid, do you understand?" He makes this sound rather casual, hoping the rat will just hand over the money peacefully and save him some problems.

"I'm glad to see you have such a generous family," Achimed says, continuing to do a good impression of innocence. "But your tone of voice nearly gives me the feeling that you think I somehow owe your family something. Imagine that! I'm a good honest businessman here. Do you really think I would ever forget a favour done for me?" He tries to smile, his crooked black lips making it more of a grimace.

Arkold begins walking over to the rat, "I'm sure you're a good business man, and the family wants to see your business continue… " He walks to the counter and out of sight from those outside, "But you see, in order to prevent something… perhaps an accident… you should always repay the family."

"I would never dream of doing otherwise," Achimed says, starting to look a bit nervous as he backs toward the curtains. "But it seems to have slipped my mind… What is it you think I owe your family?"

Arkold walks behind the counter and stops, tilting his head, "Now you know quite well what you owe, but I shall remind you despite your act; Two gold, by sundown tomorrow." He tilts his head, "Carefull, you wouldn't want to trip and ruin those curtains… " He grins toothily.

"Wait! You can save me a trip," Achimed says, the rat suddenly brightening up as if having an idea. "If you'll just come in back, I'll give you the money and you can take it right back to your 'family'… I'll expect a receipt for that, understand."

Arkold shakes his head, "No, that would be unfortunate. You see, the family grows weary of waiting. I am just here to remind you, the next one… well… " He pulls out his dagger and runs a finger across it, "He would not be as nice as myself. I think for the sake of your business, you'd best hand over the two gold now."

Something thumps in the back room.

Arkold perks an ear. "Company?" he asks calmly, "Wouldn't want anyone else to be involved in our little matter."

"All right, all right, I get the 'point'," the rat says. He cackles at his poor jest, then motions for Arkold to follow him into the back, pushing the curtains up to show a very dark back room closely pressed with shelves full of what appears at first to be junk. Perhaps some of it might actually be valuable.

"No, just my assistant. Moving boxes. Quiet in there, fluff-for-brain, the man just wants his money!" Achimed yells.

The rat grumbles as he pushes into the back room, the curtains starting to fall back down. "Now where did I put the box… "

Arkold follows the rat to the back room but stays near the door and the light, watching very closely, and looks for this assistant.

A vaguely rat-like shape lurches towards Arkold in the dim light.

Something scrabbles in the darkness. Achimed mutters as he moves boxes around, then sneezes. That must be him in the shadows, lurching a bit… But it's difficult to make out in the dim light.

Arkold hold his dagger firmly in one paw and casually moves his other paw into his jacket, as if to scratch an itch.

The figure comes closer, reaching stiffly out to the Jupani with its arms. There is an almost overpowering (to Arkold's sensitive nose) smell of formeldahyde coming from it.

Arkold takes a few steps back into the front room, and says, "Come into the light, slowly."

Almost complete silence in the back room now. This place is crowded! Not a lot of room to move around in. The light grows dimmer… Perhaps it's just a cloud passing before the sun outside.

The ratshape shuffles oddly into the light coming through the curtain. It does appear to be a misshapen rat… one that's been crudely sewn together from disparate body parts. It comes closer still, until the death rictus and empty eye sockets of its face are visible.

Arkold gahs and backs up, drawing his pistol. "What horrors do you keep here, merchant??" he says with an air of panic.

"My… assistant," Achimed's voice whispers from somewhere in the shadows. "He used to work for the 'family'. I offered him… better terms. Now, what was it? Two gold shekels?"

Arkold replaces his pistol but keeps his dagger out, calming down a bit. "Yes two gold… What happened to him to befall such fate?" he asks.

The grotesque caricature of a rat continues to dance before Arkold, almost seeming to float above the floor.

Arkold huffs and tries not to look at the rat.

Something chuckles up in the dark rafters.

"Why… " a voice rumbles from above, "I suppose *I* happened to him."

"Allow me to introduce you to my new business partner," Achimed says from within the shadows. "What was your name again? I fear that it has slipped my mind in all this talk of… favors."

Arkold hrrms and takes a swipe above the dead looking rat with his knife, having an idea…

The knife connects with something, and the rat's left arm drops to its side, along with a length of the cord that supported it.

There's an almost audible gloat, then an annoyed Achimed continues, "And if you would cease mangling my stock in trade… "

The rest of the rat drops as well, followed by the articulated cross that was used to manipulate it. "Rat gut does not make for strong cords," the voice says from above.

Arkold huffs, "You can call your assistant down from the rafters, now… And my name is unimportant."

"Well… Perhaps I should show you why you should address my new business partner in a more polite tone of voice," Achimed says smoothly. He fiddles with a fire-starter by a lamp, which quickly catches light. It reveals, up in the rafters, a rather long body. Long enough to take up almost the full length of the rafter. Long is also a good description for the talons on its paws. And maybe for those teeth too, as the dragon smiles down at the wolf.

Vorgulremik says, "Hello, Unimportant. I am Remy."

Arkold is standing just outside the doorway to the back room, where the dragon can't jump down on him. He frowns gravely and mutters, "A dragon… "

Vorgulremik smiles again. "You're new at this, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't move too fast," Achimed observes. "His reflexes get set off when someone does that. His temper's not very good either. Even at the best of times." He tilts his muzzle up, looking smug.

Arkold nods to the dragon named Remy, and tilts his head. "What I am is of little importance really. Dragon or not, the family wants its money. Get rid of me and there will be more. Give me the money, and… well… no one has to be the wiser and I can be off," he says, with a look of grave calmness… lLike one about to set off a deadly trap.

Vorgulremik says, "S'Lezan must be running low on idiots finally. You're not an idiot, are you?"

Achimed starts to look puzzled as he glances up at Vorgulremik, who doesn't seem to be making any imminent moves toward Arkold. He furrows his brows and looks Arkold over carefully.

Arkold shakes his head a bit, "I am merely a Jupani sent to gather money for the family, and my job is simply to get the money and be off." He hmms and looks at the dragon a bit more.

Vorgulremik says, "Ah, but your job is not to get killed, now is it? How about you go tell S'Lezan he'll get his money back, and a bonus, if he comes to collect it himself?"

This gives Achimed cause to startle. "What? What are you saying, Remy? That arrogant son of a mouse would burn this whole neighborhood down before… What is it, is there something special about this one?"

"That must be it, it's 'Be nice to Jupanis' day," Achimed grumps. "Except no one told meabout it."

Arkold hmms and asks, "What does a dragon want with the family? And for that matter, with this shop… ? I must say a dragon in a shop… " He pauses as listens to the rat.

Vorgulremik grins back to Achimed, but it's not quite the same grin he gave Arkold. "Yes, Achimed, he has a special quality. Namely, the ability to deliver a message without forgetting half of it."

Vorgulremik says, "He has a bearing that you would do well to emulate, Achimed. He is a noble."

Achimed grumbles and stares hard at Arkold. "What's a noble doing working for that old drunkard, Sleazy-ann?"

Vorgulremik turns his gaze back to Arkold, to hear the Jupani's answer.

Arkold looks back and forth between the two, the sees the dragon looking at him. He answers, "Hmm, so there are some things a dragon cannot tell. Why do I work for him? Might as well tell you, it matters little. Because some day I hope to get off this floating rock, and I need the money for an airship, that's why."

Vorgulremik grins. "A thief with ambition then. I knew there was something I liked about you."

Arkold's ears flick and tail twitches. He grins with a hint of nervousness and says, "It's nice to know I'm liked."

Achimed rubs his stiff left hand under his chin. "Dagh-taken nobles. Always meddling with an honest businessman just trying to get by… " He glances toward his 'partner' again, obviously the junior partner of the two, rather than the senior that he'd like to pretend he is.

Arkold looks at Remy and hmms, "Might I ask you something… ?"

Vorgulremik says, "S'Lezan does not appreciate ambition like I do, young noble. What would you ask?"

Arkold nods. "Why do you stay here? Such a grand creature in such a dusty old hovel… Surely there are better places for one such as yourself? I can think of many," he says, a little less afraid and more awed, as he's never seen a dragon before today.

Vorgulremik arches a bony eyeridge, "All in due time. Will you deliver the message that Achimed wishes to meet personally with S'Lezan, in order to discuss a business deal of… mutual interest?"

Arkold nods, not seeing any other choice except to die. He answers, "I will… But before I go let me say this; a noble could be far more useful than a dusty old merchant. If you ever find need for a more… useful partner, look for Arkold."

"Yeah. This is just the *start*, you see?" Achimed puffs his chest out, looking just a bit ridiculous in his rich clothes. "We're going places. If you're smart, you'll do as my partner asks… If you're not… " He glances over at the rat puppet.

Vorgulremik grins. "I'm sure we'll be able to do business in the future, Arkold."

The rat sneers, but finds little to gainsay Arkold with at the moment. "We'll see, won't we."

Arkold grins back to the dragon, then looks to the merchant, "I can deliver the message, but perhaps some money now would help to lure him over here."

Vorgulremik says, "Give him a gold coin, Achimed."

Achimed scowls, but reaches into an almost invisible seam of his outfit, out of Arkold's sight, and then retrieves a gold shekel with smooth edges. It seems he indulges in the habit of clipping coins of a little of their metal. "Here. Tell him to come alone. Just with you. We'll keep this talk between us, without lots of people who might get twitchy with their swords." He grins hideously. "Otherwise we might have to remind them not to twitch."

Arkold nods and takes the gold coin, placing it in the pouch under his cloak. "He will be here," he says to the dragon, knowing him to be the real boss here.

Vorgulremik grins and nods, relaxing on his rafter.

Arkold grins to himself as he walks down the street thinking, o O ( A dragon… I could have never imagined I would meet one of those, and in such a hovel! With a dragon as my partner, I would not need an airship. The possibilities! Ahh… and I even got my gold coin back. ) He flips the coin and hides it away on his person, smiling all the way.

In the Monkey's Head Tavern, S'Lezan looks up to greet Arkold. "Ah! The prodigal returns. Did it go well?" he inquires. He gestures for the wolf to sit down and share some Wild Turkey Black.

Arkold takes a seat at the table, "Strange news sir, but news you will like." He smiles, his ear twitching.

"Oh?" S'Lezan has Slyboots pour another mug of the sludge-like liquor for Arkold.

Arkold takes a sip and nods, saying, "Seems this merchant has gotten his grubby hands on something good – I've seen it… But due to the nature of this find he'd rather it not become well known that he has it, and he'd like you to come with me to see it. Leave the others."

"I see… " The Guildbrother's eyes rest on Arkold, measuring him. "That sounds like Achimed. Always promises, always 'It'll be better tomorrow'. What makes you think he's not just feeding you bait, 'til he can hook and gut you?"

Arkold's tail twitches. "I've seen it, and it's big, sir. Nothing he can move quickly. If we head over there now you can see it for yourself, and we can get it out together, without drawing a crowd," He says with a look of utmost confidence, a look he's practiced many times.

"Something good… Hmf. It occur to you, sonny-boy, that Achimed *is* a pawn broker? What's he got that's so special even he can't unload it on some Kavi-witted fool?" S'Lezan hawks and spits, his blackened saliva staining the floor of the Monkey Tavern. "Give me the truth, lad. I didn't get to be Guildbrother by going anywhere someone says without checking 'em out first."

Arkold leans forward and whispers just to S'Lezan, "He hasn't sold it because he doesn't know its value… it's a First Ones piece… Useless junk to those who don't know what it is, but I do, and if we can get it from him it would be worth far more than 2 gold… " He leans back and his ear twitches.

S'Lezan looks disappointed in Arkold. "Son, it's Achimed's business to know the value of his pieces… Especially the relics. Now, you say that he wants me to meet him somewhere. Privately. Without bodyguards. Now what's the *most* obvious reason you can think of for him to ask that last?"

Arkold nods, "A trap, I know." He drinks a bit more, "Well if he is planning a trap, what could a little rat like him do to the two of us?"

"A little rat and how many friends?" S'Lezan continues to fix Arkold with a beady-eyed look as the wolf drinks nonchalantly.

Arkold nods, "You know him better than I sir." He rests his paws on the table, "If you do not wish to go, I understand… We… I, can always gather the two gold tomorrow… If thats all you want." He sounds disappointed.

S'Lezan looks up to Carousel, who fiddles with her knives, and back to Arkold. "Now, being as it's me that's considering you fer application to the family, Arkold, I feel obligated to remind you that we try not to lie between brothers. Someone who gets caught out lying on a job, well… He don't work for the family anymore, or anyone else either. Life's hard enough without some vermite of a brother making it harder on the rest of us, got it? Now, you want to try telling me what happened… For real?"

Arkold huffs, and nods, "Ok, you want the real truth? He's got backup… very dangerous backup."

"Good," S'Lezan says. He doesn't appear to hold any resentment against Arkold for lying to him. "I figured it was something like that. It doesn't take much to scare gutter trash… Someone like you though, I figured you'd be tougher. So, what kind of backup are we talking about here? Big, nasty, dangerous? Poisonous? Fast?"

Arkold rubs his ears, "Scare? Yes it scared me… Big… Dangerous… A dragon." He takes another sip and groans, "Of all the luck, my first job, it has to be a dragon."

Slyboots's ears perk up. "Really? A *dragon*? How big?" Others of S'Lezan's entourage begin muttering between each other, evidently surprised, and Arkold hears a 'Where'd he get… '

Arkold looks at the others. "This one's… it's really bad boss, it's not huge, but something about it… it's not right," He says softly.

S'Lezan nods. "Don't worry. We look after our own," he says, getting up to walk about and pat Arkold's shoulder. "I'm not charging you for this one because everyone gets scared or greedy and tries double-crossing me. Once. But once is all you get, buddy. Now, tell me the rest. How big, where does he have it kept, and is it winged?"

Arkold looks up. "He's got it in the back, in the rafters… and yes it has wings. Sir, have you ever seen a dragon play with a dead body before, like a toy?" he says, somewhat shaken.

"Never. They're mythical," S'Lezan answers breezily. "Who knows what they do? But if it's a living thing… We can take it. Carousel, dig me up a few of our best bowmen. Slyboots, get me someone handy with a net. What do you use, Arkold? Daggers? Sword, maybe?" The rat paces. "If Achimed wants a private conference, let's see how loud he laughs when we turn the tables on him, eh?"

Arkold nods. "I use a pistol sir, and my dagger here… You think we can take that thing?" he asks while standing up.

"Depend on it. Where did Achimed want us to meet him?"

Arkold answers, "His store."

"Right. Get what you want, and let's go." S'Lezan nods to his assistants, who depart on their own errands.

Arkold leans against the table and shakes his head, muttering, "What an awful day."

Later that evening…

Arkold walks along with S'Lezan, looking at him from the corner of his eye. He's surprised he wasn't killed for lying to the rat, though he really had no choice in the matter… and maybe S'Lezan knows that. He pats his cloak pocket and thinks the extra pistol he picked up should come in handy.

S'Lezan appears to be alone as he walks with Arkold toward Achimed's shop, but the wolf's neckhairs prickle as he realizes they are being shadowed by perhaps eight or so expert crossbowmen and trappers. The streets are lit with lanterns only sparsely, making pools of light upon the dirt. The shop appears to be closed…

S'Lezan looks about. "This the place?"

Arkold nods and answers, "This is it sir, the rat's shop."

"Knock on the door for me then," S'Lezan says.

Arkold walks over to the door and knocks twice, waiting for an answer.

"Come in," a voice calls. Achimed's.

Arkold nods and opens the door, looking back at S'Lezan, "He's here sir, he wants us to come in."

"Fine then," S'Lezan says. He glances back meaningfully at the shadows, then motions for Arkold to go in first before following him into the shop. Candles flicker in the back room, behind the curtain…

There, Achimed seems to have squeezed out enough space from the stacked boxes and shelves to fit in a table, three chairs and a fourth place for the dragon to sit, and a tea service that is kept warm by a small burner. Achimed grins sickly at S'Lezan, looking about for the Guildbrother's usual entourage. "So good of you to come, sir," he says. "Do join me and my… partner… for tea."

S'Lezan raises an eyebrow at the sight of tea. He eyes the dragon watchfully.

Vorgulremik is 'seated' on his haunches at the far end of the table, holding one of the tea cups in a large foreclaw.

Vorgulremik says, "S'Lezan, I'm so glad you could come. How much time do I have to make my pitch before your troops descend upon us?"

Arkold nods and mutters something about never knowing dragons could drink tea.

S'Lezan looks taken aback, then answers, "Fifteen minutes. If they hear anything – like screams – then they have orders to burn the place immediately. I see I am dealing with no mere hatchling here." He grins crookedly. "As you may have heard, I am Guildbrother S'Lezan… And you must be Achimed's new… 'Partner'."

Arkold just listens quietly.

Vorgulremik smiles and nods his head in a slight bow. "Call me Remy. Do have a seat, please, and you as well Arkold."

The Guildbrother dusts off his chair and moves it slightly before sitting. He gestures for Arkold to sit as well. "You'll forgive me if I decline the tea. I'm well aware how many strange herbs are for sale in the Bazaar and less-known places."

Vorgulremik says, "Of course."

Arkold nods and sits down next to S'Lezan.

Vorgulremik says, "I asked you here so we could discuss opportunities… and a solution to your growing dilemna on the streets."

"Hopefully not 'burn them down and let the First Ones sort them out,'" S'Lezan says dryly. "That's been tried already."

Vorgulremik chuckles.

Vorgulremik says, "No… I refer to your other problem: too many thieves, and not enough loot to go around without drawing undo attention from the authorities."

S'Lezan's ears prick up. "Interesting."

Arkold ear flicks.

Vorgulremik grins, "We have in this room a unique gathering of skills. S'Lezan, who knows the streets and commands the equivalent of a small army. Achimed, who knows the ways and needs of merchants… and young Arkold, who understands the games of the wealthy.

S'Lezan nods.

Vorgulremik says, "And myself, who has a large view of things. }:)"

Vorgulremik says, "Tell me, what is it that keeps Rephidim afloat, as it where?"

"We do not know," S'Lezan says cautiously. "It is believed that the islands are the divine creations of the First Ones, who made this world what it is… "

Vorgulremik says, "You take me too literally, Guildbrother S'Lezan. I refer to that which makes life here possible. Trade."

The rat looks slightly confused that Vorgulremik would ask such a strange question in the middle of business dealings, then laughs shortly. "Hah. Would you have us all turn airship pirates then?"

Vorgulremik says, "Piracy is expensive and risky. There are other ways to profit from trade, however… "

"Go on?" The rat leans forward on the table, watching the dragon curiously.

Vorgulremik says, "There are many small shipping companies and independant traders… but only a few major shipping concerns which dominate."

Vorgulremik says, "They dominate because of their size and ability to buy their goods in large quantities, so that they can undersell their smaller competitors."

Arkold nods and thinks about his father's business…

Vorgulremik says, "But what would happen if certain shipments simply failed to arrive?"

Vorgulremik says, "Say something basic… like salt? How would people preserve their meat, or spice their food?"

"Mm. What do you think, Arkold?" S'Lezan looks over at the wolf.

Arkold chuckles and nods, "Then those who have, say, salt… Could charge whatever they wanted."

Achimed casts a look toward Arkold as well, but not one as apparently comradely as the Guildbrother's.

Vorgulremik says, "And those would be the smaller traders… and also those that transported the goods from the docks to the markets, and the merchants that they deliver them too."

Arkold looks at S'Lezan, "I never knew dragons had such buisness sense, but he does have a point sir."

"So what is it that you plan?" S'Lezan inquires. "What do we look like, merchants to go around buying up stock? There's no way we can buy up enough salt to make a dent in the market."

Vorgulremik says, "And what if, for example, those smaller traders had an agreement to only use your people for transport, S'Lezan? And what if only the merchants that made deals with Achimed could take delivery of those products?"

"Mm. So you want to arrange some 'accidents' for people who don't follow the plan, eh?" S'Lezan says.

Vorgulremik says, "Accidents… well… the market is a harsh place. An edge of the competition is worth a lot."

Arkold says, "And for us to make sure said cargos never arrive?"

Vorgulremik turns to Arkold, "That is the part which I will take care of."

Vorgulremik says, "And, as Arkold can attest, the wealthy also compete with each other in less obvious ways."

Arkold nods.

Vorgulremik says, "A shipment of rare spices from the Savan vanishes, and so a noble's dinner party must do with less than ideal seasoning… whereas another noble, who has made a deal with Arkold here, can have all the spice he wants."

Vorgulremik says, "His status will therefore rise at the expense of his fellow nobles."

Arkold smirks a bit.

Vorgulremik says, "And eventually, the larger shipping concerns may decide it better to pay a special tariff rather than lose more ships."

Vorgulremik says, "This will give us essential controls within the Black Market, Open Market, and Luxury Markets. At very little risk."

Arkold nods and tilts his head, "And… whats in this for you?"

Vorgulremik smiles, "Why, your grattitude of course."

S'Lezan nods. "Interesting… I can authorize a trial, but I want to talk to my boss about it. He'll be curious to meet the person who came up with it… " He snorts at S'Lezan's witticism. "That, and you want to be in a position to control all this trade. If you can get even a quarter of everything that goes through Rephidim under your talons, that's an awful lot of shekels we're talking about, neh?"

Vorgulremik says, "Just as you all shall reap the 'gratitude' of the shippers, merchants, and nobles you bestow your favor upon."

Arkold hmms softly…

Vorgulremik says, "I care little for monetary wealth. Influence, however, I value highly."

S'Lezan taps a fang with a fingertip. "All right. But I want to see that you got what it takes to pull this off. Arkold here… He'll be our go-between. When you find a shipment you want to stop coming in, send word an' we'll take care of it. An' I want a third of the profits, plus looting rights."

Vorgulremik chuckles…

Vorgulremik says, "This is not piracy, S'Lezan. I will take care of the 'accidents' resulting in the loss of shipments. There will be little left to loot."

"So where's the profit in it fer us?" the Guildbrother asks, leaning forward.

Vorgulremik says, "You will control the flow of essential products into Darkside, and into the Bazaar. You can charge what you want."

Arkold nods, "But those shipments still carry valuables… perhaps we should try and capture, before we destroy?"

S'Lezan grins to Arkold.

Vorgulremik shakes his head to Arkold. "That is expensive and dangerous. If piracy is suspected, the Temple fleet will fly escorts. If the losses seem to be random, they are just 'bad luck'."

Arkold says, "How do you plan on destroying these ships, exactly?"

Vorgulremik smiles, and tiny fires flare in his nostrils. "Airships burn."

S'Lezan glances at Vorgulremik's wings. "Up close 'n personal, maybe?"

Vorgulremik says, "Exactly."

Vorgulremik says, "The smaller shippers, grateful for the opportunity to profit, may be happy to transport other materials at our request, as well."

Arkold says, "Hmm… a burnt airship leaves little remains. A lot of treasure would go with it. It is too bad we cannot use your wings to get someone aboard first, steal some things while you cause havoc? A sack full of money is a nice bonus."

Vorgulremik arches an eyeridge at Arkold, "Is a bag of ceramic coins worth your life, when you could make tens of times as much by providing nobles with their luxuries?"

S'Lezan muses. "So you want us to… Steal shippin' schedules? Burn down a few warehouses their owners what think they had plenty of stuff in, then find out they don't anymore? Tell our contacts they better buy while the buying's good?" He raises an eyebrow at Vorgulremik. "Gimme something so I k'n show the boss that you've got solid stuff here."

Vorgulremik says, "Reliable market and shipping tips are certainly items you could sell… "

"Mm." S'Lezan rubs his chin, then looks up at a knock on the door. "Just a minute." He goes to assure the apparent nondescript cloaked figure that yes, he's just fine, he's talking business.

Vorgulremik says, "And of course, you could always hire the smaller carriers to transport the products which you will buy yourself, knowing that they will become suddenly very valuable."

Arkold stays mostly silent and just listens.

S'Lezan returns and nods to Vorgulremik. "Awright. You have something in mind for a start?"

Vorgulremik says, "There is a significant Eeee population here, which likes to indulge in certain rare spices and foods shipped in from Ashdod. I believe they will make a good test market."

"Mm. Any in particular?" S'Lezan studies Remy as he takes his seat again.

Vorgulremik says, "Teas and spices are shipped in bulk. The next major shipment will not arrive."

Vorgulremik says, "We will see how the market reacts, so that we may then decide if it is a product worth manipulating."

Vorgulremik says, "I will, of course, require the shipping schedules of the major carriers."

Arkold nods, "I can get that."

"Right. You need to know when Ashdod makes its next big job." S'Lezan looks over at Achimed, then Arkold, then back to Vorgulremik. "I s'pose Achi here'll need to take out a little 'investment' in spices. Need a loan?" He grins evilly, and Achimed grumbles.

Vorgulremik says, "This is a market test. We won't try to provide the missing product this time."

S'Lezan stands. "All right. Let's see if this idea of yours works or not… I'll send Arkold here with word later. An' I think a 'friend' will want to speak with ya later, eh? C'mon, let's get started." He gestures for Arkold to stand.

Vorgulremik nods.

Arkold gets up and brushes himself off.

Arkold smiles a bit and and looks at S'Lezan, "I tried to tell you there was treasure, boss."

"Heh. Didn't mention the dragon sittin' on it." The Guildbrother swats Arkold's shoulder, and the two walk out into the quiet night.

Vorgulremik finishes his cup of tea, smiling inwardly. { Greed and vanity, my two great allies. You have yet to fail me… }

Vorgulremik thinks, o O { When it all falls apart, the chaos will be sooo delicious! }