exit, stage e a s t

( She is heat and storm and hissing anger: ) You fools. And me, fool, listening to the master, helping! ‘Who could have known, Karsa, who could have known?’ I could have known, you could have known, any woman with sense could have known! Men? Men know nothing. You steal from a merchant, what does he do, eh? What does he do?

( A pause, as if she nearly expects an answer — before continuing, impatiently: )

He makes more coin. Do you know whose gold you took? Whose gems you took? Who made a large deposit at La Rea just when you all broke in? Do you know? Do you know who? Torsten. Congraaaatuuulaaaaations. The high merchant. The Torsten who won the auctions, the Torsten who inked a grand salt supply contract he needs that money to pay for. The Torsten who is bringing the great-bellied best, that ship Imperious in a few days. To make up for it.

( But she’s quieting, at least. ) And on it, he brings something powerful. We hear… the master hears. A commission. Because when merchants lose money, pah! They turn into smugglers. They say Unhalad’s brothers hired Torsten to bring in... help for him. Everyone heard about the bodies on the pillars two weeks ago. Unhalad’s own people picked out and killed, no, they can’t have that. No one… no one in the east sent help to Sa-Hareth when the dead took us over, but the dead, eh? The dead help each other. Funny, no? The world. And funny, you. What are you doing? Wasting time, with tales since grandmother was too young to even open her legs. ‘Arne the Red,’ who cares? How can a man survive three days and three nights in the tundra cold? He doesn’t. But you waste time on that, instead of —

( Bitterness and bile and she pieces herself together again. )

There is one matter of gladness. Unhalad’s allies sent him... some sustenance, as well as his weapon. More like you. Hopefully better than you, ah? Not fools? A handful of captives. Every man and woman and child deserves freedom. We will cut them loose. And tell Haltham, if you see him, there is work beyond sniffing the salt.

( Determined, then: ) Now. My people, we infiltrate. And we brave the instrument. But we are few. Eight? And... maybe exercise will do you well, ah? Keeps you from other foul business? Help free your fellows from the Imperious. We go together to the ship, but we each do our part. And we succeed.

I have more of the quartz for speaking, when you free them. Ten pieces? I will send them. Like I sent you quartz to... visit La Rea. And you made gain. So now I ask my cut: some 7,000 coins would provide us enough supply to make a few men friends, to procure some sailor garb… while, alternatively, 13,000 pieces would get us... a more substantial distraction. Who is coming? And how much gold can you give?


( ooc: This is a precursor to the ship rescue test drive & game event that our resident Sith Lord player proposed. Full event details will go up on 27 April! )

( 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. )