audio | username: raven master

[pulvisetumbra]

( Moaning, laughter, lewd innuendo — the fixtures of the House of Dew's channels. Until, a steeled voice cuts way: )

Tamaiu, if you please. Impress on your ladies the virtue of silence for the next hour.

( All too suddenly, betraying how often the mistress of the house listens in, the cacophony of sound dispels. He continues: )

Good afternoon. You’ve made rather a mess of things, haven’t you?

I made my first fortune in Sa-Hareth. Inevitably, through sales of salt. Now, this was before, when death was still a reliable constant, and trade margin weren’t unhelpfully eroded by the competition’s ability to deploy dead contingents that require no rest, no feeding, and minimal attendance while they operate the production line. I assure you, immortality is infertile ground for business.

( A moment, for amateurs to appreciate this economic downturn. )

At this time, I volunteer no name. You do not require it. Allocate me one as you please. I am a merchant, by trade. I am accustomed to a degree of discretion. But I have no guarantee that you would offer me the same courtesy in the event of your capture, and the ambitions of this enterprise frankly surpass you. It is of utmost importance that I survive.

It is of secondary relevance that you do the same. But my collaborators and I have allocated a not insubstantial volume of coin, sweat, blood and personal sacrifice to progress your escape and survival. The hope, the gain, and the only purpose of this operation is to remove you from Akhuras and direct you to pastures new. Any alternative allows for Unhalad, his siblings and their masters to utilise you in a war that has devastated our world.

( Another pause, measured. He is accustomed to the protocols of rhetoric. )

To be clear. You are not so naïve to assume our first efforts didn’t study the merits of your murder. We tested this on a batch. Regrettably, our enemies proved sufficiently apt to resurrect their captives and use them after.

We will therefore proceed with extraction. Some of the standing eastern portals still offer the possibility of transfer to other worlds. Although… most have not been tested in generations, and we may need to deepen our voyage east, if and when the beacons cannot accommodate us. The safety of portal transportation to your persons is candidly immaterial to us and remains your concern.

( Be that as it may. Another moment's hesitance: )

My part in this endeavour is to secure information on the portals and their location, along with facilitating transit, on occasion. You will contribute with coin, with labour, with discipline. Begin by assisting Haltham and Karsa as much as possible.

Now. If you attracted Unhalad’s attention, it is not unfair to assume you were all previously situated in a position of power. You are used to being heard, perhaps also heeded. Some of you may have commanded every room you stepped in.

Except for this one. I am master here. You are merchandise. I have no interest in hearing objections of stupidity, vulgarity or sentiment. Any other questions, proposals or comments may be submitted in an orderly manner.

( And perfectly civil once more: ) Tamaiu, if you please again. My thanks and regards to your ladies.

Comments

audio; un: lady love of a thousand poets

[thehoneybadger]

["The merits of your murder"? Rachel is extremely pissed off.]

Mm, I think I'ma call you "dickweed", 'cause that's what you are, and that's me being nice. I can think of a lot worse things to call someone who opted to have people killed just for funsies.

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[pulvisetumbra]

If that is your description of our efforts to save hundreds of thousands of our people at the regrettable expense of a handful of strangers, so be it. You are fortunate enough to not be in a position of necessary sacrifice. Enjoy it.

Will that be all?

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[thehoneybadger]

Nnnnot even fucking close, douche-canoe.

Ooh, I'm "fortunate enough not to be in a position of necessary sacrifice"? Fuck you. A life's a life, sorry I'm not enough of a Vulcan to believe in that "needs of the many" crap.

[pulvisetumbra]

If you think I have an appetite for your puerile attempts at vulgarity, you're mistaken. You, like all your colleagues, are free to leave, if you are unwilling to collaborate. I see no need to extend my patronage to you. By all means, depart your accommodations by the end of the day.

[thehoneybadger]

You've kind of got us all stuck between a zombie apocalypse and a hard place, though, haven't you? I'm dumb, but I'm not stupid.

Sorry, pal, I ain't one to bounce when the going gets tough. But I want this to be crystal, here - I'm doing this for everyone else who got swept up here in round two of "shit let's be guinea pigs". I'm not doing it for you.

[pulvisetumbra]

Very well. Your token verbal protest that achieves nothing while you continue to benefit from my protection has been noted. I hope that you feel like a much more morally upstanding person for it.

[thehoneybadger]

I do, thanks. Sometimes I feel like a cunt, but right now you've got me feeling a lot better about myself, so, cheers.

I've got my eye on you, bud.

...you can't see it, but I'm pointing at my eyes and at you. Or at least in front of me.

[pulvisetumbra]

( A notable pause, considering: )

Will that be all, Rachel?

[thehoneybadger]

...maybe.

What do you mean, we're "merchandise"? That one don't fly with me.

[pulvisetumbra]

It means that you are intended for transport and delivery.

[thehoneybadger]

Well, no shit, Sherlock, I know what "merchandise" means. What I mean is that, relevant to us/we. I know you're a merchant and when you've got a hammer everything looks like a nail, but c'mon, I ain't just a quart of barley.

[pulvisetumbra]

You would think so.

[thehoneybadger]

Oh, look at you, knowing so much. I'm worth at least two quarts of barley.

Don't make me seize your means of production, shitbird.

[pulvisetumbra]

( A sigh, protracted. )

You will speak civilly, or find your access to this communication channel removed.

I am not a captive spectator to your one-person strongwoman act. We are all collaborators, in civil terms, or we part ways.

[thehoneybadger]

[She knows when to hold 'em and knows when to fold 'em. Right now, she's holding, but close to the chest.]

I've got my eye on you. Two eyes. As often as I can spare them.

[pulvisetumbra]

Indeed. The threats of a child who required my efforts for her rescue paralyse me. Do you have actual questions?

[thehoneybadger]

When I do, you'll know. And I could have gotten out of there just fine, thankyouverymuch.