"There is an private supper club on the north section of Shantytown. It's the only decently maintained house in the area so we will not be overheard. Our guards will keep an eye out for any intervention from the city, of course."

You note that this is somewhat interesting that a messenger is doing this level of negotiation with you. The man also has the three inches of height and sturdiness of build that's usually not found on people in this area.

"As mentioned, you are welcome to bring a small escort outside, and up to five arms-men with you to encourage safe negotiation, if you are concerned. I do not know what you are selling myself, being just a messenger, but I am permitted to say that they are VERY interested in whatever it is you are selling."

He didn't quite add 'after all, they sent me' but you certainly got that impression. He looked quite out of place in this area.

"That would be most agreeable, friend."

Vasati said, holding his arms out to his sides and flashing his sigil in the palm of each hand.

"I trust that I will not cause undue distress by announcing myself so?"

If he met with no further disagreement, he set out immediately.

He nodded, surprised.

"We'll make sure to watch for the sigil, and I'll pass that on to the guards and my superiors."

Vasati gathered up Claire if she was coming along, and moved off to the Northern section of town.  If traveling alone, he took his beloved alleyways.  If moving with the fighting mech, he was bolder, walking down the streets without fear of being accosted despite his fine clothes.

[So is Claire coming along in this thread?]

OOC - (So, Claire is coming, right?)

(Claire is coming.)

Vasati had spent hours in front of a silver mirror, looking for the perfect face amongst his endless multitude.  He wasn't sure if he quite had it, the hair had been the hardest bit, but he had eventually decided that youthful vigor was more important than the distinguished flashes of silver he typically preferred.  As a result, it was a younger guise than what he typically wore, but there was something about it that just sang to him.  Presentation was everything, after all.  He'd bedecked himself in well worn fighting leathers if the highest quality, intricately engraved with silver tracery.  A beautiful cloak of midnight purple finished the look, more silver embroidery lining the hem and hood. Silver caps topped the chords that bound it to his throat, an ostentatious display of wealth that might easily have drawn the wrong sorts of attention in the wrong parts of town.   Yet despite all that, he hardly seemed to be noticed at all by the locals, blending in as naturally as if he had been a leaf drifting on the wind.

He positively strutted as he walked down the main streets, his perfectly sculpted chin held high, the soft leather of his fine boots making not a sound as he walked.  With Claire present, he had no concern meeting the Guild Representatives at the hill outside on the City.  He'd seen what the fighting mech was capable of, and while he didn't quite understand the particularities of such a thing, he valued her presence immensely.  He'd been hoping for flash, and didn't mind letting her steal the show.  He was to be among thieves, was he not?  He'd reclaim it soon enough if the Guild was willing to play nice.  The Arch Key hung heavy on a chain under his shirt, warmed by the heat of his flesh.  He was learning its secrets, but he hadn't mastered them yet, and he wasn't sure he yet intended to surrender it before he had.

If the Guild took issue with such things?  Well now, wouldn't that be fun?
This message was last edited by the player at 06:31, Tue 02 June 2020.

Vasati had indicated his desire for flashiness to Claire, and so she came with him in her full "battle dress," and had even transformed her right gauntlet to add a very obvious gun barrel loaded with pretty pink doom; the only things missing were her wings (which could be deployed easily enough if it came to a fight). Her face was placid as a lake, to go with her role as a (very attractive) bodyguard, and she moved side-by-side with Vasati in easy, quiet companionship.

"Run down what I need to know about this negotiation?" she asked along the way, once they were outside the city. Mostly to make conversation, since she was really only coming along as a show of force.

Heart of the Lion is up.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:44, Tue 02 June 2020.

The supper club is certainly an anomale: one of the only well maintained buildings between the shanty town and the bustling market north of the city proper.

Most of the other buildings here are decaying ruins, making even the cheap construction of the shanty town seem prosperous. Those few who live here are truly desperate, as there was no respite from the dry, salty ground.

Still, there were a few hold out buildings between the two zones, and one of the few well maintained ones was the three story supper club and kitchen. Why this place stood amongst the crumbling ruins and dusty ground was unknown, but somehow, it was well maintained with garish freshly painted walls and visible guards outside.

It was a sharp contrast to the crumbling ruins that surrounded the place and huddled pathetic masses that lived inside of these places. How did this place stay in business?

A few suspicious looking riff raff just "happened" to be standing outside the club, looking tough, swords on their hip. These had to be the guild observers. They spotted Claire and Vasati (they were both kind of hard to miss) and gave them a polite nod, stepping well out of their way.

Two fully armored mercenaries, in full armor and carrying polearms, stood impssively outside the door directly. They took one look at Claire and Vasati and also stood aside.

A friendly looking overweight middle aged maitre'd invited them in. His clothing was fanciful for the area, of good quality, but not finely colored like most rich in the city. Upper working class then?

"Ah. You are the two guests for Mr. Nomefalso (Mr. Falsename?). Welcome to the supper club!

It is a pleasure to invite patrons willing to rent out the entire club. We hope you and your.. companion will enjoy the meal.

Our servers have readied the food and wine so that you can conduct your negotiations. You will not be disturbed by waitstaff, as per our instructions. The other guests are on the second floor. "

The smell of delicious freshly baked bread came from inside the club. There were no signs of other patrons.

He paused momentarily to answer any questions or concerns.

Vasatti spread his arms wide in an expansive gesture as they walked the path to the supper club.

"A pebble strikes the surface, and sends forth ripples for all the world to see, Signora Durand.  We go to see how the powers that be react to the new shape of the world.  The thing I appreciate most about thieves?  Adaptability.  Perhaps they will be able to shift and alter to the changing of the tides, but most likely not.  When power and wealth become entrenched, oh my do they try and dig in their heels to any perceived shift in the wind.  But we are not the wind, are we Signora Durand?  What cares the tide if the high and mighty seek to oppose it?"

He tapped his nose knowingly, throwing her a look.

"Our new friend Plaga seeks the establishment of a new business venture, among other things.  Were he but the wind, he would need to seek the favor of those who we now go to speak with, and pledge himself their underling.  Otherwise, given the nature of the Good Doctor's work, it is safe to say that objections might be raised.  Yet, Plaga too has friends in high places.  He has Vasati.  So we go to buy ourselves a seat at the table as a favor to those sitting at it, not to Plaga.  We go to sooth ruffled feathers and slow down the hasty so that they might have time to recognize the inevitable.  The tides are changing, and they are a vast and infinite thing.  We do not go to threaten and bluster, we do not go to strike fear.  We go to ensure that they are all suitably impressed, and appeal to their baser natures.  We appeal to their greed, and hope that they are capable of indulging with restraint.  If they prove incapable of even the smallest restraint?  Well, then we have Signora Durand, do we not?"

He laughed.

---

As was his way, he ignored the guards completely as they passed.  To the maitre'd he gave a polite nod as they approached, adding a completely unnecessary flourish to the gesture.

"In the past I've done a few rounds with the Dealer, and I think it was he who was most interested in future games with me."

He said in answer, flashing his brightest smile.

"Let us go to the second floor, and see what they have in store for us, no?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:04, Tue 02 June 2020.

"Mercantile plots and schemes," said Claire affectionately. "Well, in that case, I'll help you as more than a bodyguard." She managed to take a bow without breaking stride. "For who knows better the passions of men than a singer?"

It felt slightly odd to use the poetic Vissian cadence. Claire thought she liked it, though.

---

As they entered the building, Claire retracted the gun barrel back into her arm. She smiled at Vasati's suggestion. "Please lead on. Maybe I'll enjoy the taste of some of their drinks."

Plaga would arrive at the supper club not long after Vasati and Claire. She had a lot of matters to attend to, but her relationship with her mysterious investor was something she couldn't ignore. As such, she had to put her other projects on hold, the only sign that she had other things to do being that she arrived slightly late to the negotiation.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:17, Tue 02 June 2020.

The first floor is largely empty, and you are quickly escorted up some stairs to the second floor. The building is old and in Patrian style, though the original statues were looted long ago, the place has been restored with more modern reproductions.

The second floor is clearly more of a private club then the first floor. There are only three large tables (which are massive things carved of driftwood), and only the main one has guests. A staggering array of foods have been placed across the tables.
A number of small oil lamps on the side the wall and candles on the table provide ample lumination.

There are no staff, and when you enter, the thick door closes behind you. There's no exterior lock, not that this would stop either of you. The Matire'D doesn't quite run down the stairs when you enter the room, but it's clear he wants no part of this discussion, barely managing a "Enjoy your meal, patrons" before he makes himself scarce.

Bread and meats not readily available given the climate have been laid out - you haven't seen many land animals after all. It's all very expensive, and the sort of thing that you'd expect at a business lunch within the city.

Sitting at the far side of the main table are eight individuals.

Taking their positions at the front are the messenger you saw earlier, "the dealer" from the Saint's, and a jovial man in spectacles carefully dissecting a plate of something like prosciutto. Given their positions, you can guess they will be negotiating. The jewlery and fancy clothes between them scream their wealth and power.

Flanking them are 5 fighters, wearing hardened leather. From the scars on their faces, you'd imagine them to be expert knifemen. They move with quiet precision, and do not speak. These men are clearly guards, and move with obvious deference to the others.

Then there is the young, rather athletic looking long haire man who sits at his own table. He looks about 3 social classes too low to be in here, but everyone seems to be too polite to point this out to him. His clothes are salt stained. You've seen his look among the rowers who ferry cargo, Shellbacks, you've heard them called? He gives a quick look at the two, gives a merry wave, and then goes back to his food, oblivious to the deal going on. The others act as though he didn't exist.

The spectacled man motioned to the chair "Please, sit. Feel free to enjoy the food and wine. Or we can immediately get to busienss if you prefer. I take it your lovely companion is not equipt to dine with us? Exquisite work."


I think you've met most of my associates under one name or another? Do not mind the others. They are merely insurance."

It didn't seem possible that Vasati's grin could go wider, but somehow it did when his flashing dark eyes fell on Plaga.

"Ahah!  And then there were three.  And here I was worried you might leave me all on my lonesome to play games with these card sharks.  Come, come, join us!"

He waved her over, and then made a show of taking the stairs and climbing to the second floor.    As he entered the main room, he gave those assembled another of his patented flourishing bows.  The runes at his palms pulsed once, twice, his sign and sigil his greeting given that he was cloaked in one of his many faces.

"Gentleman, are we bothering with names, or are we keeping this discreet?"

He said as he took a seat, pouring himself a glass of the most expensive looking wine he could lay eyes on and taking a moment to savor its aroma.

"Ah, too long gone, too long indeed.  Yet now I am returned, and we are all here to do business, no?  Let us immediately get to it then.  The food will not spoil, the wine will not turn to vinegar, but these poor gentlemen will hardly be able to take their ease if they are to be insurance all night.  Let us settle things between us first, and then we might all drink merrily in celebration of our new found fortune and good luck."

Not heeding his own advice, he took a long sip of the wine, looking expectantly to see if either of his companions had anything to add.

Claire gave the bespectacled man a dazzlingly-white smile. "Why, thank you," she said as she took a seat...and then a short sip of her own wine, though she didn't touch any plates. "And a little wine, at least, would be nice and won't hurt me any." Only then did she nod to Vasati's request to speed up the business.

Simply adressing Vasati with a nod, Plaga took a seat to the other side of the man, likewise nodding to Claire to acknowledge her presence. She said nothing to the man either, since Vasati was clearly the one that would manage the negotiations. For now, she was here just to watch the encounter.

The dealer spoke up.

"I think we prefer discretion. After all, this is an extremely discrete matter, yes?

Besides, exchanging names with a whisperman is rarely a smart move."

He winked.

"What you need to know is that the parties interested in information on how you.. acquired the key are here, as you asked, and there is someone who can conclusively identify and appraise the Arch Key."

One of the guards nearly did a doubletake. The key was not often discussed, and few knew of it. The other guards did not react, or not care, least of all the odd young man.

The friendly man placed a few esoteric instruments on his desk, wands of crystal and various tincitures and powders. "Sadly, I've failed to bring my aetherscope or my analytic machine. Bright republic technology facinates me.

Still, a chance to study the key is grand, and the pay is good. May I see the key for identifcation?"

Vasati chuffed in amusement, but with his lips closed in a tight smile it was just a short outburst of air through his nostrils.

"Ah, stealing my thunder, but I suppose I did ask that we get straight to business."

He said, removing the thick chain from his neck and carefully setting the Arch Key down upon the table.   He leaned back as he allowed the specialist to do his work, his eyes drifting to the ceiling and his fingers crossing behind his head.

"Given that the previous owner is already making inquiries, I will not pretend that the understanding I have regarding the composition of her household is not now sadly several days too old. It's value has depreciated, something I understand far too well.  However, I do not think it needs saying that in a matter of days I achieved something that I believe you described as "legendary" and "astounding," something to have very important people "clamoring" for my attention.  I liked the sound of those words then, and I like them now."

He looked down to eye the Dealer as he echoed the man's words.

"Therefor, let us not play games.  When I say I know the location of other potent relics, and that with a little Effort I can learn the secrets of the defenses that guard them, I from this point on will assume that you will take me very, very seriously.  Yes?  Good.  So then the question becomes, do you hunger for that which is just before you, within your grasp?  Or do you have the foresight to understand the implications of what has just happened here?"

His gaze was steel, unyielding and unbreaking.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:27, Wed 03 June 2020.

"Yes." Said the 'messenger' from earlier, with a slight smirk.

The dealer gave a nod to the messenger.

"Terse, but accurate. For reasons of political expediency, my friend here would like to purchase the key. It would greatly reduce complications if you were to sell this item to the man, so that it could be returned to the council.

The current political climate is.. troublesome.

Earthquakes. Our fish supply is threatened. Explosions and disappearances at the university. Independent sources of addictive drugs that somehow totally avoid customs."

He very carefully did not look at Plaga as he said this. The young man at the other table, on the other hand, did, paused for a moment, and then made a clear "aha" moment as he stared at her.



"Return of the key to the city through official channels would go a long way to assuage the fears of the council and the city, that all these new things are not there to pilfer our treasuries and eat our souls.

If you are uninterested, well, what can we do?" The Dealer gave a shrug. "I know we outnumber you, but I'm not stupid, we wouldn't have a chance against all of you. " Again, the youth at the other table gave away the game, stifling a 'bullshit' into a cough.

The dealer raised a warning hand, and the young man's coughing fit ceased.

"So, my associate will check the key, and my friend here will make the offer. If you say no, then we will hear any additional proposals regarding the other items. Though those are highly sought after, the key is just that important."

The 'messenger' from earlier nodded. "That thing is a threat to the city while it exists. If you return the arch key, it will go greatly to proving that you and you're... associates are not hostile to the city. Plus, you will have the debt of a major family.

So, what do you want? A noble title with none of the responsibilities? I can probably do that. Association agent status with a house without the responsibilities? I can make that happen. You want to be a guild head? I'm not in the guild, but I am the sort of person who can make that happen if you return the key."

Plaga's lips curled into a smile behind her mask as the young man showed such a carefree unrespectful side to her. He had clearly heard about her, but she wondered if he would react that way if he knew more. In another time, Plaga would have likely shared the opinion of the other low lives regarding gang leaders. Unless you have a working relationship with them, stay as far away as you can. But after her rebirth, those that in the past may have proven an impossible threat were merely an interesting challenge. As the man faked a coughing fit, Plaga amused herself imagining the terror on his face where he to face Plaga and her most recent allies. Perhaps, in the right circumstances, that vision might turn out to be prophetic. For now though, it was more important to let Vasati achieve a good deal than to satisfy her own desires. There would be plenty of time to get acquainted with the Shellbacks in the near future.

"My apologies."

Vasati leaned forward, placing both his elbows upon the table and steepling his fingers together.

"That... thing?  I am afraid that I must ask you and your companions to be more precise in your language.  Do you mean the Arch Key, or are you referring to myself or one of my companions?  We came here to do business, to forge contracts, and to establish certain understandings.  I see I should have made such understandings more clear, for coming here in good faith I find you discussing threats, threats backed with with the rather notorious leader of the Shellbacks all but spoiling for a fight."

He seemed to catch himself, and turned to look at Claire.

"Ah, I suppose I cannot fault you in being prepared, given the company I keep.  Still, I am afraid that your famed fighter is to leave this conversation frustrated and bored when our business is concluded.  So, while we wait for you associate to conclude in his most excellent work, I would be most intrigued to hear what exactly is meant by that thing."

The messenger instantly responded with genuine seeming cofnusion.
"Wait. What? What are you talking about?

The shellback spoke up with a grin on his face.

"Aww hey, don't be like that... mysterious thief person type guy. I got no beef with you.

I fight. Not to brag, but that's kind of my thing. You're supposed to be the thefiest theif who ever theifed. If someone said they could easily outtheif you, wouldn't you at LEAST say something? I mean, I really didn't come here to start a fight, but I'd like to think it would be a fair on-"

The messenger spoke up "For the love of God, enough, please just SHUT - THE - FUCK - UP."

The shellback blinked, zipped his lips shut, and took another swig of wine. He said nothing, merely lightly tapped his finger at the table to pass the time.


There was an uncomfortable silence.

The dealer was an impenetrable mask of calm. The messenger was hiding barely restrained fury towards the shellback.

The scholar hesitantly spoke up. "I think that.. the whisperman thinks that your friend insulting the woman because she's got an artificial body."

Said the scholar, trying to be helpful. He looked remarkably calm.

The messenger, again, looked incredulous. "What? No! I mean the key. The thing that I am talking about and want to buy from you. Why would I be talking about anything else"

The messenger took a deep breath.

"I'd also like to clarify. I was not making a threat, I am stating a fact I have no control over: you are beginning to be perceived as a threat by the powers that be.

Allow me to describe about what I know about you, and perhaps you will see it from the council's perspective. Not all of this will be known of course, but enough of it is that you should get the picture.

Standing in front of me is a man there are no records of, who knows the city's underworld enough to be a whisper. This man said he was going to find the most valuable stolen objects in the city, and shortly thereafter found an object that is the defacto badge of office of the ruler of the city, plus has god knows what other magical powers.

Rather than return it for a reward, he has more money than a major house could throw together in a year to establish the item's veracity and set up a meeting, incidentally throwing the entire economy into a turmoil by doing so.

When we establish a meeting, this man brings with him the following people as his companions: a woman who reputedly can create glaciers and fought a giant sea monster. A drug lord who creates vast quantities of products the Collegium Alchemist school could crate, without any network or a single intercepted shipment, all within the space of about 3 months. And that's just the people you are at the table with, lest I mention that most of you were first sighted when a boat the size of a Republic Battle Cruiser arrived in our harbor.

Yes. You are a threat to the powers that be. You don't have to sell me the key. It would make things simpler, but if you don't want to, well, we can still make other deals."

The scholar looked up, having completed his work.

"Sorry, I was finished the base scans a few minutes ago, but it seemed rude to interrupt.

Full aetheric resonance that matches. Null response to dysjunction. Zero conductive and thermic resonance, you could drop this in a volcano and it wouldn't melt. Gross chemical properties indicate a zinc heavy component and carbon scoring commonly found in late Patrician period.

In short, I am 99% confident this is the Arch Key.

I will continue testing to verify with other means. I should be able to get it up to 99.8% in the next hour, as well as determine a few other facts about it. You've certainly paid enough for full services."

Plaga couldn't stiffle a chuckle as the messenger perfectly described who they were dealing with. She was impressed, as she expected her reputation to spread, but not this fast. Clearly they were as good as they seemed at gathering intel. Though she still doubted they knew much about her past, their information of her current affairs seemed up to date. She decided to casually voice her thoughts as they came.

"I seem to have underestimated just how well informed you were. I trust my companion is more aware than me when it comes to who you all are. So far I've detected a genuine interest for the well-being of this city. Which is why I'm rather puzzled at your choice for a bodyguard for today's meeting. I have no doubt that the boy over there is more than capable, but I have trouble picturing him to be loyal. Of course, if I'm wrong, I apologize for my ignorance."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:54, Thu 04 June 2020.

The shellback mimicked talking, but kept his mouth closed. He had been ordered by his superiors to stay quiet, after all.

The messenger shrugged, but the dealer spoke up.

"He's hotheaded and prideful, certainly. That's not the same thing as disloyal.

I've known prideful men drag their secrets to the grave, screaming, under incredible pain, with no hope but to die a needlessly painful death out of loyalty. I've known careful, rational men decide that betrayal was a better deal.

Incidentally, if you want to have a discussion later for your own interests, that could be arranged. I will leave out my friend, of course. This is of no concern to him."