He had seen it coming for a while, and had he been a more calculating man, H’saan would have lined up a new job before announcing his intention to leave Marianna’s practice. What he’d actually done was put off the unpleasant business until the situation with Aemelius could no longer be ignored. It was unfortunate, really, as the Sandsman had been the closest thing he had to a brother, but the constant competitiveness wore at him, sucking the pleasure out of his work like a leech.
So it was that H’saan Alai found himself engaged in the unaccustomed endeavour of figuring out his next move. After his years with Marianna, the thought of attaching himself to another practice seemed disloyal, but the half-giant healer lacked the necessary experience, reputation and capital to set up his own. Word around the city indicated that there were opportunities for work abroad, with mercenaries of all kinds being hired for a war in distant Pan’s Isle. The idea sounded stimulating enough – but in war, there would be much hardship and turmoil, and H’saan simply didn’t see the point in putting himself through that trouble if he could avoid it.
To travel, he decided, with a merchant’s caravan or the like, would be his favoured choice. It would not be entirely free of risk, but no man could live in fear of the inevitable, and he would be well suited for the work. With a satisfied rumble, the half-giant rose to his feet and headed towards the Great Market, in search of employers and a mid-morningtide snack.
Neither worry nor regret troubled him as he returned to the moment, not really wondering what other directions his feet would eventually take him in.
Sabata: Other Directions (Samheen 29 MT)
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Sabata: Other Directions (Samheen 29 MT)
Last edited by Guest on Mon Feb 12, 2007 2:50 am, edited 2 times in total.
Morningtide was the busiest time of day in the Great Market. Although the great tentlike domes protected Sabata's inhabitants from the full force of the furious afternoon sun, during tradetide its heat could still be felt fiercely on the air. So the city-dwellers preferred to conduct their business during the early marks of morningtide, before the sun had the chance to ascend into the sky and begin its daily campaign to stare Sabata into submission.
As usual, the Great Market was a feast for the senses. The main aroma on the air was that of various costly spices, one of the region's main exports, but in the market this was joined by the smell of both raw fish and cooked meat. Stands selling snacks were not infrequent in the central area, as the hustle and bustle of the market was hungry work. Most of these sold the meat-filled dumplings known as bhuuz, a speciality of Terra Incognita, cooked in sizzling clouds of steam. Other variants were also available - the bhansh, boiled in great pots, and the fat-fried khuushuur.
The press of the crowd was all around H'saan. The streets of the market were wide, but lined on each side with rows of stalls and stands and filled with the crush of marketgoers rustling past. The air, too, was full of sound and fury. As well as a cacophony of music, coming from the various flautists, lute-players and raconteurs of the quarter, the voices of seemingly hundreds of hawkers jostled with each other for airspace. Amidst the more mundane, some were even advertising the war that H'saan had heard rumours of. A blonde man in an unseasonably heavy leather coat was booming out his offer.
"TAKE THE PORTAL! FIGHT FOR CROWNS IN AN ISLAND PARADISE! MAKE YOUR FORTUNE AND GET BACK BEFORE THE LADIES KNOW YOU'RE GONE! THE WEST IS RECRUITING!"
A little way outside the main market stood the Crying Dragon tavern, Sabata's best-known tavern and meeting place among outsiders and foreigners. And just off the main concourse of the innermost ring of the dome stood a narrow-windowed, whitewashed building that was known to be the local headquarters of the Eastern Sands Trading Company, a large Western venture. Both these places were good bets for one seeking travel opportunities - as was the Longfellow Institute, a location some way away within the residential district that regularly organised expeditions out into the sands.
As usual, the Great Market was a feast for the senses. The main aroma on the air was that of various costly spices, one of the region's main exports, but in the market this was joined by the smell of both raw fish and cooked meat. Stands selling snacks were not infrequent in the central area, as the hustle and bustle of the market was hungry work. Most of these sold the meat-filled dumplings known as bhuuz, a speciality of Terra Incognita, cooked in sizzling clouds of steam. Other variants were also available - the bhansh, boiled in great pots, and the fat-fried khuushuur.
The press of the crowd was all around H'saan. The streets of the market were wide, but lined on each side with rows of stalls and stands and filled with the crush of marketgoers rustling past. The air, too, was full of sound and fury. As well as a cacophony of music, coming from the various flautists, lute-players and raconteurs of the quarter, the voices of seemingly hundreds of hawkers jostled with each other for airspace. Amidst the more mundane, some were even advertising the war that H'saan had heard rumours of. A blonde man in an unseasonably heavy leather coat was booming out his offer.
"TAKE THE PORTAL! FIGHT FOR CROWNS IN AN ISLAND PARADISE! MAKE YOUR FORTUNE AND GET BACK BEFORE THE LADIES KNOW YOU'RE GONE! THE WEST IS RECRUITING!"
A little way outside the main market stood the Crying Dragon tavern, Sabata's best-known tavern and meeting place among outsiders and foreigners. And just off the main concourse of the innermost ring of the dome stood a narrow-windowed, whitewashed building that was known to be the local headquarters of the Eastern Sands Trading Company, a large Western venture. Both these places were good bets for one seeking travel opportunities - as was the Longfellow Institute, a location some way away within the residential district that regularly organised expeditions out into the sands.
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Island paradise, eh? H’saan grinned, amused by the way the promoter felt compelled to add a touch of glamour to even so bloody a business as war. Shouting “crowns†would have been enough to attract most of the men the recruiters were after – although it was doubtful that crowns were on offer. Sadly for the mercenaries, they would be paid for their skills rather than their lives, and thugs and fighters weren’t exactly prized for their rarity value on the mean streets of Sabata.
Let others die for coin. The half-giant had never been one to involve himself in bitter conflicts against his fellow man. The occasional tussle could be invigorating, fun even, but his true enemies were disease and injury, pain and death itself. They could strike at any time, in any home or on any street corner – no healer needed to travel far to find them.
A khuushuur vendor was located easily enough and a few burns later H’saan wandered away satisfied, licking residual traces of oil off his lips, mutton and onions settling quite agreeably in his stomach.
The whitewashed headquarters of the Eastern Sands caught his eye around the time that it occurred to him that the Longfellow Institute might be looking to hire as well. Another decision, another fork in the road. Well, he had plenty of time and no reason not to investigate both these options before heading for a cool drink and pleasant company at the Crying Dragon later in the tradetide.
As the Western traders’ building lay closer to his present location, he visited that first.
Let others die for coin. The half-giant had never been one to involve himself in bitter conflicts against his fellow man. The occasional tussle could be invigorating, fun even, but his true enemies were disease and injury, pain and death itself. They could strike at any time, in any home or on any street corner – no healer needed to travel far to find them.
A khuushuur vendor was located easily enough and a few burns later H’saan wandered away satisfied, licking residual traces of oil off his lips, mutton and onions settling quite agreeably in his stomach.
The whitewashed headquarters of the Eastern Sands caught his eye around the time that it occurred to him that the Longfellow Institute might be looking to hire as well. Another decision, another fork in the road. Well, he had plenty of time and no reason not to investigate both these options before heading for a cool drink and pleasant company at the Crying Dragon later in the tradetide.
As the Western traders’ building lay closer to his present location, he visited that first.
Last edited by Guest on Wed Feb 14, 2007 4:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
The Sabata offices of the Eastern Sands Trading Company lay in a prime spot within the city's Market District, just off its central concourse. The building was a whitewashed monstrosity. A full four storeys high, it thrust upwards towards the cloth of the dome far above the streets. An architect from the West had clearly been brought in to work on the edifice, as its formidable size and sturdy construction were a cut above most construction work done locally. Furthermore, the narrow window apertures were spanned by grid lattices of thick, square glass panes, a refinement uncommon in both the Desert City and the Western Kingdom.
No guards stood watch on the outside of the building, but two flanked the doorway on the inside. While the man to the left was olive-skinned and armed and armoured in traditional Western style, wearing chainmail armour and carrying a longsword, the one to the right was clad in the robes of a Red Tribe warrior of the Sands. The disparate pair were a perfect illustration of the culture-spanning nature of the trading venture. While the Eastern Sands Company had its roots far to the west, in World's Mouth, its fate rested entirely upon operations in Sabata and elsewhere in Terra Incognita, the very reasons for its existence. In the few yahren that the Company had been in operation, it had begun the laborious process of hammering two cultures together into a malleable material.
Within the building it was cool and quiet, mostly a result of its thick walls. Even the babbling roar of the market place outside was no more than a muted murmur here. The front door opened into a spacious hall, spanning two storeys, with a balcony running around the edge at first floor level. Directly in front of the door was a substantial desk in dark wood, and behind it sat a youngish woman with long dark hair, poring over a scroll which seemed to hold some sort of list. At H'saan's approach, she looked up, speaking in a voice instantly recognisable as being from the Mouth. Her eyes narrowed somewhat as she took in the half-giant's appearance, but her greeting was clear and professional. "Good morningtide, signore. What can I do for you?"
No guards stood watch on the outside of the building, but two flanked the doorway on the inside. While the man to the left was olive-skinned and armed and armoured in traditional Western style, wearing chainmail armour and carrying a longsword, the one to the right was clad in the robes of a Red Tribe warrior of the Sands. The disparate pair were a perfect illustration of the culture-spanning nature of the trading venture. While the Eastern Sands Company had its roots far to the west, in World's Mouth, its fate rested entirely upon operations in Sabata and elsewhere in Terra Incognita, the very reasons for its existence. In the few yahren that the Company had been in operation, it had begun the laborious process of hammering two cultures together into a malleable material.
Within the building it was cool and quiet, mostly a result of its thick walls. Even the babbling roar of the market place outside was no more than a muted murmur here. The front door opened into a spacious hall, spanning two storeys, with a balcony running around the edge at first floor level. Directly in front of the door was a substantial desk in dark wood, and behind it sat a youngish woman with long dark hair, poring over a scroll which seemed to hold some sort of list. At H'saan's approach, she looked up, speaking in a voice instantly recognisable as being from the Mouth. Her eyes narrowed somewhat as she took in the half-giant's appearance, but her greeting was clear and professional. "Good morningtide, signore. What can I do for you?"
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Never having taken the opportunity to enter the building before, H’saan made the most of his visit, gawking shamelessly at the relative wealth and luxury that lay around him. Perhaps gawking is not the right word. The half-giant was generally a man in his element wherever he was and whoever he was with, so it might be more accurate to say that he gazed around the hall with interest and appreciation as he strolled towards the desk, taking time for a friendly nod at the two guards.
Ahhh…how cool it is in here. A body could get used to this. But as tempting as it was to loiter around, out of the oppressive heat, H’saan was here for a reason. He quickly turned his attention to the woman at the desk, whose initial reaction was polite, if somewhat… disapproving.
Why does she look at me so? As far as the healer could tell, he presented himself perfectly respectably in his customary robes. These were similar to those worn by the People, only larger, and without the colours which would identify his affiliation with one Tribe or another. They were not frayed or soiled. His flamboyant tattoo was not on show today. As always, his nails were trimmed, his hair was perfect and he was clean (dirty physicians didn’t tend to be very successful).
Of course, the simple fact of his race made him a barbarian in some eyes. It was a view which the half-giant accepted without much rancour. Five burns in his company was usually enough to alter that opinion.
Is there something in my beard? Perhaps that was it. Raising his left hand to his mouth he feigned a cough and discreetly brushed away any remnants of his brunch. Reassured that there was nothing in there that she could possibly object to, he cleared his throat and turned the full force of his gleaming white smile upon the unsuspecting receptionist.
“Ahem, I beg your pardon d’war.â€
Closer now, and from his vantage point, he could see that the lady had been preoccupied with some sort of paperwork. Ah, I have interrupted her. That was all. For pleasantries, then, there will not be time. She struck him as the proper, efficient sort anyway, so he behaved himself and got straight to the point.
“A small matter is all. My name is H’saan Alai. I am a healer, seeking to… broaden my horizons. I would be much obliged if you could direct me to the one with whom I should speak regarding employment within your Company.â€
Ahhh…how cool it is in here. A body could get used to this. But as tempting as it was to loiter around, out of the oppressive heat, H’saan was here for a reason. He quickly turned his attention to the woman at the desk, whose initial reaction was polite, if somewhat… disapproving.
Why does she look at me so? As far as the healer could tell, he presented himself perfectly respectably in his customary robes. These were similar to those worn by the People, only larger, and without the colours which would identify his affiliation with one Tribe or another. They were not frayed or soiled. His flamboyant tattoo was not on show today. As always, his nails were trimmed, his hair was perfect and he was clean (dirty physicians didn’t tend to be very successful).
Of course, the simple fact of his race made him a barbarian in some eyes. It was a view which the half-giant accepted without much rancour. Five burns in his company was usually enough to alter that opinion.
Is there something in my beard? Perhaps that was it. Raising his left hand to his mouth he feigned a cough and discreetly brushed away any remnants of his brunch. Reassured that there was nothing in there that she could possibly object to, he cleared his throat and turned the full force of his gleaming white smile upon the unsuspecting receptionist.
“Ahem, I beg your pardon d’war.â€
Closer now, and from his vantage point, he could see that the lady had been preoccupied with some sort of paperwork. Ah, I have interrupted her. That was all. For pleasantries, then, there will not be time. She struck him as the proper, efficient sort anyway, so he behaved himself and got straight to the point.
“A small matter is all. My name is H’saan Alai. I am a healer, seeking to… broaden my horizons. I would be much obliged if you could direct me to the one with whom I should speak regarding employment within your Company.â€
Last edited by Guest on Sun Feb 18, 2007 2:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
"A healer looking for work," the receptionist repeated crisply, looking away from H'saan's face as she spoke. The woman wasn't sure how to react now; she was caught between the negative effects of a long-standing prejudice against pagans, inculcated from her earliest days, and the positive effects of a businesslike manner and radiant smile, with neither winning out completely.
Professionalism came to the rescue, though. "You'll want to speak to Master Corlais," she responded. "He deals with personnel and recruitment. His office is the first you'll come to at the top of the stairs, just off the balcony." She took a moment to take in his size once again. "Ah... I'd make sure that you knock before entering."
She indicated an archway leading to a stairwell behind her and to her right. This opening was flanked not by guards but by a pair of tall leafy green potted plants. The stairs beyond were carpeted with thin woven mats displaying colourful, geometric patterns.
Professionalism came to the rescue, though. "You'll want to speak to Master Corlais," she responded. "He deals with personnel and recruitment. His office is the first you'll come to at the top of the stairs, just off the balcony." She took a moment to take in his size once again. "Ah... I'd make sure that you knock before entering."
She indicated an archway leading to a stairwell behind her and to her right. This opening was flanked not by guards but by a pair of tall leafy green potted plants. The stairs beyond were carpeted with thin woven mats displaying colourful, geometric patterns.
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"My thanks. A good day to you, d'war." With a courteous nod and another flashing smile, H'saan moved on, continuing to admire the interior design of the building (which was far more pleasing to the eye than the stark white outer walls). The plants were a pleasant touch; to the half-giant, they seemed rather more exotic than anything else in the building, being completely unadapted to the desert environment he was used to.
At the top of the stairs he paused briefly to compose himself, rapped on Corlais's door as instructed, and waited for an invitation to enter.
At the top of the stairs he paused briefly to compose himself, rapped on Corlais's door as instructed, and waited for an invitation to enter.
The door, already ajar, swung open at the slight touch, at the same time as a light tenor voice called "Come in!"
The room beyond was bare-walled, giving the impression that it hadn't been occupied for very long... although the sheer quantity of stuff strewn across the floor seemed to disprove this. From rolls of parchment, to discarded clothes, to eating sets, bottles of liquor, armour, barrels, rolled-up tapestries... the only spare space was a thin isthmus of bare floor leading to a desk by the window, which itself was piled so high with books and paperwork as to be completely unusable. Behind the desk was a sleeping mat. The room's occupant clearly lived in his office as well as working in it.
The man himself rose from his seat on a barrel and picked his way through the mess towards his visitor. He was slim and of average height for a human. His skin was tanned such that it was slightly darker than his mousy brown hair, which was short and stuck up in unruly tufts and spikes. He was lightly and informally dressed, in knee-length breeches and a loose tunic exposing wiry bare arms.
"Kal'essen," he greeted after observing H'saan for a few flickers. His accent was Western, but not as strongly pronounced as that of the Mouthie receptionist. "Arnaud Corlais. Since you're here and I don't know who you are, my best bet is that you're here looking for work... right?"
The room beyond was bare-walled, giving the impression that it hadn't been occupied for very long... although the sheer quantity of stuff strewn across the floor seemed to disprove this. From rolls of parchment, to discarded clothes, to eating sets, bottles of liquor, armour, barrels, rolled-up tapestries... the only spare space was a thin isthmus of bare floor leading to a desk by the window, which itself was piled so high with books and paperwork as to be completely unusable. Behind the desk was a sleeping mat. The room's occupant clearly lived in his office as well as working in it.
The man himself rose from his seat on a barrel and picked his way through the mess towards his visitor. He was slim and of average height for a human. His skin was tanned such that it was slightly darker than his mousy brown hair, which was short and stuck up in unruly tufts and spikes. He was lightly and informally dressed, in knee-length breeches and a loose tunic exposing wiry bare arms.
"Kal'essen," he greeted after observing H'saan for a few flickers. His accent was Western, but not as strongly pronounced as that of the Mouthie receptionist. "Arnaud Corlais. Since you're here and I don't know who you are, my best bet is that you're here looking for work... right?"
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The half-giant chuckled, extending a hand towards Corlais. “And thus, my true intentions are revealed,†came the jovial reply. “H’saan Alai. You may think of me as a freelance healer, although I may be able to serve in more than one capacity.â€
He glanced around the room, marvelling at how completely it managed to undermine the impression of order and Western superiority that the rest of the building exuded. One might easily have mistaken the office for some sort of store-room, inhabited by a squatter. Clearly, Arnaud Corlais was not a man to place his faith in first impressions - if he was, H’saan was sure, he would have made greater efforts with his own.
Perhaps that is not such a bad thing, he mused. The healer suspected that the position of personnel officer would not be trusted to simply anyone; a fledgling enterprise like the Eastern Sands would depend at least partly on the quality of its employees for its continued success.
It suited him that already, Corlais showed signs of being more open-minded than most foreigners. It was a small courtesy to use local forms of greeting and address, but it went a long way to showing the beshi that their culture and ways were respected. It would also suit him well if the recruiter could truly see through people more clearly than most – H’saan had no wish to work alongside fools and dishonest men, nor any desire to fawn over them for the sake of a job.
“Let me be frank with you. I have not yet decided what paths my career will take – today I wished only to introduce myself and to learn more about your Company and the opportunities it may offer. If you have the time, of course,†he added, glancing over the mountain of paperwork. For the poor man’s sake, he hoped he would be able to find a secretary soon.
He glanced around the room, marvelling at how completely it managed to undermine the impression of order and Western superiority that the rest of the building exuded. One might easily have mistaken the office for some sort of store-room, inhabited by a squatter. Clearly, Arnaud Corlais was not a man to place his faith in first impressions - if he was, H’saan was sure, he would have made greater efforts with his own.
Perhaps that is not such a bad thing, he mused. The healer suspected that the position of personnel officer would not be trusted to simply anyone; a fledgling enterprise like the Eastern Sands would depend at least partly on the quality of its employees for its continued success.
It suited him that already, Corlais showed signs of being more open-minded than most foreigners. It was a small courtesy to use local forms of greeting and address, but it went a long way to showing the beshi that their culture and ways were respected. It would also suit him well if the recruiter could truly see through people more clearly than most – H’saan had no wish to work alongside fools and dishonest men, nor any desire to fawn over them for the sake of a job.
“Let me be frank with you. I have not yet decided what paths my career will take – today I wished only to introduce myself and to learn more about your Company and the opportunities it may offer. If you have the time, of course,†he added, glancing over the mountain of paperwork. For the poor man’s sake, he hoped he would be able to find a secretary soon.
Corlais's eyes followed H'saan's to the desk, then he glanced at the newcomer and shrugged. "Oh, yes, I have time. We're between caravans at the moment, so the place is quiet." He dragged out a sturdy stool from behind his desk, pushing off a sack full of something which thunked as it hit the floor, and proffered it to his visitor. "Take a seat, if you like."
The Company man perched himself back on his barrel and started to speak. "So. What we do is... we're a trading company. Roughly speaking, we transport goods from Terra Incognita to the Western Kingdom, and vice versa. For the most part, we sell goods in World's Mouth that can only be obtained here. Things like spices, and certain types of tobacco. Oh, and salt. Lots of salt." He smiled. "We do that mostly by sending caravans across the desert, although we have been known to transport goods by sea when our warehouses fill up. The caravans then come back, lightly loaded, with a selection of finished and quality products for the rich of this city. Running the caravans is a tough job, but few tend to complain, because even the lowest paid jobs still get you more in a month than most expected to earn in a yahren. The least that can be said of us is that we turn a fair profit.
"I'm afraid, however," Corlais continued, "that travelling with the caravans is not for you. Nothing personal, you understand," he clarified. "At least not on my part. But the Mouthies are damnably prejudiced against non-humans, to put it bluntly. I'm surprised Lavinia even let you in to see me. If you did travel with them, you wouldn't want to go any further than Dragonskeep on the other side of the desert, and even then... we've had race issues among the caravaners themselves before now." He shook his head dismissively. Clearly this was something that irritated the untidy man.
"That doesn't mean we don't have anything for you, however," he added. "As a matter of fact, I'm trying to put a team together for something a bit different at the moment. Not a long-term position, you understand. More of a one-off venture, although one thing can lead to another... You say you're a healer?" Corlais scrutinised the half-giant's robe, seemingly looking for a mark of tribal affiliation. Finding none, he continued. "And by the looks of you, you're familiar enough with the ways of the locals, the desert people. If you can... ehm... look after yourself, as well, we might be able to employ you." He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "One of our most profitable suppliers out in the desert is currently refusing to comply with the terms of our contract, you see."
The Company man perched himself back on his barrel and started to speak. "So. What we do is... we're a trading company. Roughly speaking, we transport goods from Terra Incognita to the Western Kingdom, and vice versa. For the most part, we sell goods in World's Mouth that can only be obtained here. Things like spices, and certain types of tobacco. Oh, and salt. Lots of salt." He smiled. "We do that mostly by sending caravans across the desert, although we have been known to transport goods by sea when our warehouses fill up. The caravans then come back, lightly loaded, with a selection of finished and quality products for the rich of this city. Running the caravans is a tough job, but few tend to complain, because even the lowest paid jobs still get you more in a month than most expected to earn in a yahren. The least that can be said of us is that we turn a fair profit.
"I'm afraid, however," Corlais continued, "that travelling with the caravans is not for you. Nothing personal, you understand," he clarified. "At least not on my part. But the Mouthies are damnably prejudiced against non-humans, to put it bluntly. I'm surprised Lavinia even let you in to see me. If you did travel with them, you wouldn't want to go any further than Dragonskeep on the other side of the desert, and even then... we've had race issues among the caravaners themselves before now." He shook his head dismissively. Clearly this was something that irritated the untidy man.
"That doesn't mean we don't have anything for you, however," he added. "As a matter of fact, I'm trying to put a team together for something a bit different at the moment. Not a long-term position, you understand. More of a one-off venture, although one thing can lead to another... You say you're a healer?" Corlais scrutinised the half-giant's robe, seemingly looking for a mark of tribal affiliation. Finding none, he continued. "And by the looks of you, you're familiar enough with the ways of the locals, the desert people. If you can... ehm... look after yourself, as well, we might be able to employ you." He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "One of our most profitable suppliers out in the desert is currently refusing to comply with the terms of our contract, you see."
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“Regrettable,†H’saan murmured, shaking his head in sympathy for Corlais as the Westerner related the news of racial conflicts amongst the caravaners. He was beginning to think that the Company would not be the place for him when the recruitment officer made his offer.
The half-giant lowered his brows seriously as he listened. “I was raised Marianna of the Red – I know many of her people’s customs, yes,†he confirmed with a nod when the human was done. “And I have some skill with the sling and the quarterstaff. But tell me more about the agreement with your suppliers,†he invited Corlais. “They are of the People, I presume?â€
H’saan sat back in the stool, fingering his beard thoughtfully. “A desert man’s word is his life, Master Corlais; oathbreakers are executed, or abandoned to the Sands. You can be sure that any agreements the People make will not be broken lightly, even those made without paper, and those made with guarddii. This leads me to wonder: is it possible that in some way, one of your workers has broken the terms or given offence without knowing it? It would not be difficult to do – they are proud of their customs, the People of the Sands, but… closed, like your Mouthies.â€
He shook is head again, this time with a wry and affectionate smile. “A few yahren more, sir. We will see in time that all men are alike before the Sand and the Sun. But while we wait for this time, I would like to try and help you, even if I choose not to travel with your party. I would not see violence done over a simple misunderstanding.â€
“Especially if profits will suffer afterwards, eh?†he added, Sabatan to the core, white teeth flashing in a sudden grin.
The half-giant lowered his brows seriously as he listened. “I was raised Marianna of the Red – I know many of her people’s customs, yes,†he confirmed with a nod when the human was done. “And I have some skill with the sling and the quarterstaff. But tell me more about the agreement with your suppliers,†he invited Corlais. “They are of the People, I presume?â€
H’saan sat back in the stool, fingering his beard thoughtfully. “A desert man’s word is his life, Master Corlais; oathbreakers are executed, or abandoned to the Sands. You can be sure that any agreements the People make will not be broken lightly, even those made without paper, and those made with guarddii. This leads me to wonder: is it possible that in some way, one of your workers has broken the terms or given offence without knowing it? It would not be difficult to do – they are proud of their customs, the People of the Sands, but… closed, like your Mouthies.â€
He shook is head again, this time with a wry and affectionate smile. “A few yahren more, sir. We will see in time that all men are alike before the Sand and the Sun. But while we wait for this time, I would like to try and help you, even if I choose not to travel with your party. I would not see violence done over a simple misunderstanding.â€
“Especially if profits will suffer afterwards, eh?†he added, Sabatan to the core, white teeth flashing in a sudden grin.
Corlais smiled broadly. "Exactly, Master Alai," he replied. "Some in the Company would like nothing better than to beat the natives about the head a bit until they cough up the goods, but that's no way to set up a business agreement. Not one that's going to last, at any rate."
"They are of the People, yes," he clarified. "Yellow Tribe, a good way out to the south-west of here. They provide us with steady quantities of cassia and frankincense, every twenty days or thereabouts. If we're lucky, they also have scales and other dragon products. In exchange we offer them a great deal of hard cash and a selection of... arms, mostly. Weapons and armour from the West, especially bows and ammunition, as the the workmanship is usually better than they can achieve themselves, and we can provide them in greater quantities."
"Anyway, this all worked out fine until our last visit, around Samheen 22nd," Corlais continued. "The caravan leader reported that the tribe had simply closed up. Our main trade contact there was civil, but hardly polite, informing us that the contract was over and that we were no longer welcome among them. When the leader asked them why, and referred to the terms of the contract they had agreed to, the People did not respond but instead became increasingly agitated. Members of the Tribe were visibly walking abroad carrying the weapons we'd previously sold them. They seemed very ready to use them, apparently. Naturally the caravan leader feared conflict, and worried that he'd lose the money and the goods they'd brought with them, so he pulled out pretty swiftly and came back to Sabata empty-handed."
The Company man shrugged. "After a while I came to the same conclusion you did. In my time here I've never known the People to just up and break an agreement like that. So it had to be something on our side that caused the schism. Thing is, I just couldn't figure out what it could have been. Questioning the caravan leader didn't help, as he was highly defensive about the whole incident."
"So I'm putting a team together to investigate. I only want a few people along, and no guards as such - we don't want to appear threatening. Still, the group will need to be able to defend itself and get out quickly if the situation turns hostile. Hopefully it won't come to that, and we'll at least be able to get to the root of the problem. I'm also thinking of sending some fine silverware along as a sort of reparation present, but I'm not sure."
The untidy man clapped his hands together and stood. "So what do you think? That's the situation; now here's my pitch. It seems like you're a useful sort to have around, so I'm willing to offer half a crown on your return, regardless of the outcome, plus another crown if I judge the mission has been a success. In addition, there would be the possibility of further employment with the Company, should you wish it." He wandered towards the desk. "You'd be engaged as a healer and advisor to the negotiator. The place is a little less than a day's ride away, so you'd likely be away for two days. Interested?"
"They are of the People, yes," he clarified. "Yellow Tribe, a good way out to the south-west of here. They provide us with steady quantities of cassia and frankincense, every twenty days or thereabouts. If we're lucky, they also have scales and other dragon products. In exchange we offer them a great deal of hard cash and a selection of... arms, mostly. Weapons and armour from the West, especially bows and ammunition, as the the workmanship is usually better than they can achieve themselves, and we can provide them in greater quantities."
"Anyway, this all worked out fine until our last visit, around Samheen 22nd," Corlais continued. "The caravan leader reported that the tribe had simply closed up. Our main trade contact there was civil, but hardly polite, informing us that the contract was over and that we were no longer welcome among them. When the leader asked them why, and referred to the terms of the contract they had agreed to, the People did not respond but instead became increasingly agitated. Members of the Tribe were visibly walking abroad carrying the weapons we'd previously sold them. They seemed very ready to use them, apparently. Naturally the caravan leader feared conflict, and worried that he'd lose the money and the goods they'd brought with them, so he pulled out pretty swiftly and came back to Sabata empty-handed."
The Company man shrugged. "After a while I came to the same conclusion you did. In my time here I've never known the People to just up and break an agreement like that. So it had to be something on our side that caused the schism. Thing is, I just couldn't figure out what it could have been. Questioning the caravan leader didn't help, as he was highly defensive about the whole incident."
"So I'm putting a team together to investigate. I only want a few people along, and no guards as such - we don't want to appear threatening. Still, the group will need to be able to defend itself and get out quickly if the situation turns hostile. Hopefully it won't come to that, and we'll at least be able to get to the root of the problem. I'm also thinking of sending some fine silverware along as a sort of reparation present, but I'm not sure."
The untidy man clapped his hands together and stood. "So what do you think? That's the situation; now here's my pitch. It seems like you're a useful sort to have around, so I'm willing to offer half a crown on your return, regardless of the outcome, plus another crown if I judge the mission has been a success. In addition, there would be the possibility of further employment with the Company, should you wish it." He wandered towards the desk. "You'd be engaged as a healer and advisor to the negotiator. The place is a little less than a day's ride away, so you'd likely be away for two days. Interested?"
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
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A potential crown and a half for two days' work... that was not bad at all.
"I am," the half-giant replied. "But I must confess I had not expected an offer so quickly, and I had plans to speak with the explorer Crispin Longfellow after our meeting. It may be that nothing will come of it, but I still wish to see what opportunities his Institute might offer."
He paused thoughtfully for a few flickers. "It should not take me long to make preparations to travel for a small party. A tide, at most. If it will not affect your schedule, I would like to give you my decision tomorrow. In the morningtide, perhaps?"
"I am," the half-giant replied. "But I must confess I had not expected an offer so quickly, and I had plans to speak with the explorer Crispin Longfellow after our meeting. It may be that nothing will come of it, but I still wish to see what opportunities his Institute might offer."
He paused thoughtfully for a few flickers. "It should not take me long to make preparations to travel for a small party. A tide, at most. If it will not affect your schedule, I would like to give you my decision tomorrow. In the morningtide, perhaps?"
Indeed, a crown and a half was an infinitesimally small fraction of the funds available to the Eastern Sands Trading Company, while at the same time being more than some of the poor of Sabata and the Sands would see in their entire lives. The Company was likely to have more money at its disposal than some of Tazlure's smaller countries, although such comparisons were naturally never made.
"That sounds reasonable," Corlais replied cheerfully. "Thanks to the Mouth's bond system and our stockpiles, there's no particular hurry in getting the supply flowing again. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this little issue to anyone who looks rich enough to hold shares in the company, though." The slim man didn't bother to explain the concepts of bonds or shareholding. Such things were obviously second nature to him.
"Departure wouldn't be until the morningtide of Samheen 31st at the earliest," he continued. "I'm still trying to find another few people to go along. We run a tight ship here, and we don't keep many staff standing around waiting for something like this to happen. So feel free to point others in my direction," he said, smiling. "Competent people, anyway."
"Oh, and watch out with Longfellow," he warned. "I've never met him myself, but I've heard it said that the little man's plans are often... too ambitious for his own good." He grinned. "I say this as one Sabatan to another, of course. Not as an employer to a potential employee." His voice then took on a more serious note. "But if you're looking for security in your job, we're certainly the better option."
"That sounds reasonable," Corlais replied cheerfully. "Thanks to the Mouth's bond system and our stockpiles, there's no particular hurry in getting the supply flowing again. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this little issue to anyone who looks rich enough to hold shares in the company, though." The slim man didn't bother to explain the concepts of bonds or shareholding. Such things were obviously second nature to him.
"Departure wouldn't be until the morningtide of Samheen 31st at the earliest," he continued. "I'm still trying to find another few people to go along. We run a tight ship here, and we don't keep many staff standing around waiting for something like this to happen. So feel free to point others in my direction," he said, smiling. "Competent people, anyway."
"Oh, and watch out with Longfellow," he warned. "I've never met him myself, but I've heard it said that the little man's plans are often... too ambitious for his own good." He grinned. "I say this as one Sabatan to another, of course. Not as an employer to a potential employee." His voice then took on a more serious note. "But if you're looking for security in your job, we're certainly the better option."
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
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