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username: haltham
( Audio: translated through the House of Dew quartz network. A man’s voice, fairly coarse, hesitant. )
...llo? Hello there? Right. Sorry. This is a fancy —
( Fumbling, as he hunts his words and the device settings. Try again: )
Greetings. This is Haltham. I met you. Some of you. At the jailhouse. I was the one who told you...? You remember? Tall? Green eyes? You remember. Come on. Most of you were, ahhh... a little... little rougher for your wear, but you remember. Sweated blood to get you out of… and Karsa, Up the mines? Well. Doesn’t matter now. I’ve got an hour. If you didn’t know me then, you’ll learn me now.
( And softer: ) I wish I could see you. See all of you. I’m told… Tamaiu sends me word every few days. Tells me you’re all right. Handful, but... what’s that about some of you starting the old trade? True, that? Well. Well, well. Just wish I could see you. First ones we’ve gotten out, and I can’t even see — ( Laughter, bittersweet. )
...you don’t care. Look, you’ll leave Sa-Hareth soon. The old man worked long for it. He promised. And I know you must have questions, and I’ll tell you right, I do too. I’m doing my bit, but he doesn’t let on much. Think he’s afraid, he says too much to one of us, we get captured, the entire work’s at stake. And maybe he’s right. Who’s to say, eh? Who’s to say. For now, you and I, we focus on our duties. Yours: get coin. We just need a bit, and — no, I won’t be lying, not me, it’s not a little. About 100,000 pieces. Give or take, what thirty good men make at the port each month. And it won’t all go to you, either, got some pockets to fill, if we want you out without... trouble. And we do. We all do.
We’ve got options: we take you out with the old spice caravan when it comes by the next full moonrise, or we find you a smuggling ship. Either way, won’t be cozy, but you’ll live. You’re the living sort.
( He seems to catch his wits back about himself, just as the channel is briefly disrupted by the half-purred, half-moaned communication of a courtesan wooing a patron into a booking. Haltham waits until she’s done completely: )
...ladies here, they’re something else, aren’t they? If I had that kind of coin, I wouldn’t say no, myself. Sorry. Sorry, we’ve got children with us. And look after the lil’uns, will you? The pink and the furred one. The girls? They’ve got a... people here, you get all sorts. Them’s good, and then there’s them with appetites. ( A pause, pregnant. Long. )
I’ve got some tips, in any case. Some... guidelines. Give it another sennight, the fat trade starts, and every big man east comes in with his ship, and they bring anything. Everything. So much gold. And then there’re the auctions, and they waste, fellows, friends, they’re pissing that money, then, they’ll buy and sell anything. Sell them rags and tell them it’s riches, and they’ll believe you. Anyway. Anyway, there’s salt to sell, if you want. Some... other things, I’m sure you’ve got your plenty. And I’m bringing them, by the way. Your old things? We rescued some. Has to be in turns, with the House’s laundry and spice and food parcels, and we bury them deep, but. Just cast yer eye, it’ll be there. All of it. If it’s yours, it’s not mine, and I’m no thief. None of us... we don’t want anything from you.
( His voice drops to an octave, a murmur. ) Look. Advice? If you take it? Keep your head low. Let the old man sort you. Don’t go anywhere alone. Trust no one, or as few as you can. Unhalad’s people, you can tell them apart, they’re everywhere, and they’re wild. And they go wilder, the colder it gets, has them running. Look... kill them. If you can, do it quick. But don’t try it with the red sleeved’uns, though. Stay out of their way. And if you can’t... the old queen had our pillars put in for the parades, and they’re are good iron. Strong. Could berth your boat against’em. Honest. Run. Run, head first, and meet the iron where your head’s soft on the sides. Do yourself with your own hands, it’s better than if red sleeves get you. You trust me.
( OOC: post open, threadjack amongst yourselves at will. Haltham will input here and there.
Character inventory items that weren’t with them when they escaped will be brought in over three House of Dew deliveries spanning the next few days. The first shipment will come with laundry, the second will comprise small items hidden beside apothecary bottles, and the third will come with the establishment’s food carts. Up to you which belongings your character gets back first, and whether they’re in pristine, lightly chipped or damaged conditions. )
...llo? Hello there? Right. Sorry. This is a fancy —
( Fumbling, as he hunts his words and the device settings. Try again: )
Greetings. This is Haltham. I met you. Some of you. At the jailhouse. I was the one who told you...? You remember? Tall? Green eyes? You remember. Come on. Most of you were, ahhh... a little... little rougher for your wear, but you remember. Sweated blood to get you out of… and Karsa, Up the mines? Well. Doesn’t matter now. I’ve got an hour. If you didn’t know me then, you’ll learn me now.
( And softer: ) I wish I could see you. See all of you. I’m told… Tamaiu sends me word every few days. Tells me you’re all right. Handful, but... what’s that about some of you starting the old trade? True, that? Well. Well, well. Just wish I could see you. First ones we’ve gotten out, and I can’t even see — ( Laughter, bittersweet. )
...you don’t care. Look, you’ll leave Sa-Hareth soon. The old man worked long for it. He promised. And I know you must have questions, and I’ll tell you right, I do too. I’m doing my bit, but he doesn’t let on much. Think he’s afraid, he says too much to one of us, we get captured, the entire work’s at stake. And maybe he’s right. Who’s to say, eh? Who’s to say. For now, you and I, we focus on our duties. Yours: get coin. We just need a bit, and — no, I won’t be lying, not me, it’s not a little. About 100,000 pieces. Give or take, what thirty good men make at the port each month. And it won’t all go to you, either, got some pockets to fill, if we want you out without... trouble. And we do. We all do.
We’ve got options: we take you out with the old spice caravan when it comes by the next full moonrise, or we find you a smuggling ship. Either way, won’t be cozy, but you’ll live. You’re the living sort.
( He seems to catch his wits back about himself, just as the channel is briefly disrupted by the half-purred, half-moaned communication of a courtesan wooing a patron into a booking. Haltham waits until she’s done completely: )
...ladies here, they’re something else, aren’t they? If I had that kind of coin, I wouldn’t say no, myself. Sorry. Sorry, we’ve got children with us. And look after the lil’uns, will you? The pink and the furred one. The girls? They’ve got a... people here, you get all sorts. Them’s good, and then there’s them with appetites. ( A pause, pregnant. Long. )
I’ve got some tips, in any case. Some... guidelines. Give it another sennight, the fat trade starts, and every big man east comes in with his ship, and they bring anything. Everything. So much gold. And then there’re the auctions, and they waste, fellows, friends, they’re pissing that money, then, they’ll buy and sell anything. Sell them rags and tell them it’s riches, and they’ll believe you. Anyway. Anyway, there’s salt to sell, if you want. Some... other things, I’m sure you’ve got your plenty. And I’m bringing them, by the way. Your old things? We rescued some. Has to be in turns, with the House’s laundry and spice and food parcels, and we bury them deep, but. Just cast yer eye, it’ll be there. All of it. If it’s yours, it’s not mine, and I’m no thief. None of us... we don’t want anything from you.
( His voice drops to an octave, a murmur. ) Look. Advice? If you take it? Keep your head low. Let the old man sort you. Don’t go anywhere alone. Trust no one, or as few as you can. Unhalad’s people, you can tell them apart, they’re everywhere, and they’re wild. And they go wilder, the colder it gets, has them running. Look... kill them. If you can, do it quick. But don’t try it with the red sleeved’uns, though. Stay out of their way. And if you can’t... the old queen had our pillars put in for the parades, and they’re are good iron. Strong. Could berth your boat against’em. Honest. Run. Run, head first, and meet the iron where your head’s soft on the sides. Do yourself with your own hands, it’s better than if red sleeves get you. You trust me.
( OOC: post open, threadjack amongst yourselves at will. Haltham will input here and there.
Character inventory items that weren’t with them when they escaped will be brought in over three House of Dew deliveries spanning the next few days. The first shipment will come with laundry, the second will comprise small items hidden beside apothecary bottles, and the third will come with the establishment’s food carts. Up to you which belongings your character gets back first, and whether they’re in pristine, lightly chipped or damaged conditions. )
no subject
I can hear you, sir.
no subject
no subject
My name is Beitang Moran. I was in the jailhouse. Can you tell us who rescued us?
no subject
no subject
And the one who sent you? Our mysterious benefactor who somehow needs us to finance the rest of our own rescue?
no subject
No. No, no, he's not here. Not in Sa-Hareth, I don't think. Haven't seen him. No one's seen him. And he's not one to... not one to not be seen. Not him.
He gave the order, though. Made the arrangements.
no subject
How do you even know he is an old man, if no one has seen him?
no subject
Course he's old. Right. Right, maybe he isn't. Maybe he's just... you ask me, right? You ask me. He's old. Maybe he's not old. For older people.
no subject
no subject
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I wish you luck in finding a companion.
no subject
We count the trade turns, more than not. The moonrises. The ten-day spans.
no subject
What of those who work the earth, in place with gentler climate? Do they use the same?
[Moran, please calm down. but no, he cannot calm down when there is knowledge to be acquired.]
no subject
Ah, if I could just see you.
no subject
And I suppose we shall meet once we have managed to assemble our funds, shall we not?
[The information, he commits to memory. About thirty days for a turn of the moon, similar to what he is accustomed to.]
It was a bit dark in the jail, I suppose. And none of you stayed long.
no subject
We'll meet when I guide you for travel. Me or Karsa, but I'll ask the old man to let me be.
no subject
no subject