• Solo • War and Hospitality

[Woe]

18th of Ymiden 720

Woe had his task laid out fairly clearly by the councilman of the Hospitality Guild. While he waited for the Faldruunium to come in from the many orders he sent out, he'd sent Fleaface to put out his feelers in the various Guilds, to learn the politics of the economic machine of Quacia, such as it was. The old man had proven useful at digging information, despite his rough exterior. Although his manner lacked sophistication, he had a way of absorbing information, just by virtue of appearing unimportant. People felt comfortable to speak all kinds of truths in front of a pauper, and while Fleaface had mere intermediate skills as a spy, he was a master of maintaining the appearance of someone utterly unimportant. Woe had no such talent, which was why they worked so well together.

Woe was slumped over his desk, having succumbed to the vapors of a mixture of ambrosia mixed with opium. He found it took the edge off his urge to flay random people. Having ventured out into the streets several times in the past few days, to ensure that the way was prepared for the materials to arrive, he'd occasion to meet folks. He had underestimated the urge to flay. How Magpie had warned him of it, if only he'd listened. Then again, his spark had fooled him, hadn't it? He didn't mean to flay Sywena, or even Stoll... did he? They forced him to, by dint of showing aggression and force. He had no choice, particularly with Stoll, who'd meant to kill him. What else could he have done?

Woe snored lightly into his desk when Fleaface happened upon him. Woe could sense him, but didn't rouse from his slouching position. He could sense the disgust and disdain that Fleaface had for him. Not for the fact that Woe was drunk on some vapor, but that he couldn't even handle his substances yet.

"Oy! Master! Wake'up. Got some news fer yer."

Woe lifted his head, his blue eyes bloodshot from the vapor. He rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes, as he set aside the book he'd been reading. Turning in his seat, he tried to appear casual as he leaned an elbow against the table, and looked to Fleaface expectantly.

Fleaface straightened his back, then cleared his throat. "Yer know the guilds... Agriculture, Raw Materials, Industry... They all got a three-way alliance with each other. But that ain't the bad part." Fleaface grinned sadistically, knowing that Woe wouldn't like what he'd have to say. "They got it in for Hospitality. Not takin' kindly to Hospitality trying to usurp Agriculture, with the aid of one unnamed Magelord who had the ear of the King at the time."

For an unnamed magelord, the one whose name escaped Woe time after time certainly seemed to get around. A perpetual thorn in the side of anyone trying to make progress. Nevertheless, Woe had no concern for someone he couldn't pin down one way or another. "And, what of the War Guild? What obstacles lay in wait for me there?"

Fleaface's grin faded just a tad. A good sign, "Raw Material guilds have them by the balls. They might want ta help, might even be talked inter it. But..."

"Damn politics..." Woe said, irony dripping from his mouth. "You'd think with annihilation standing at our doorstep, these 'Guilds' would be more willing to cooperate with each other."

"Master?" Fleaface's brow twisted in confusion.

"Instead, they position themselves in such a way that their rivals will take the brunt of the destruction, to ensure that only they will remain when the devastation is over." Woe shook his head, "It's short-sighted, damnably so." Woe thought that had he command over a Guild in a position of magnanimity, he could consolidate his position without compromising that of another. Perhaps they could be convinced to stand down, but for now, he needed to have the War Guild ready to their side, at least in time for Raw Materials to be convinced to let down their embargo.

"Take the day off, Fargis. I'm going to be out the rest of the night." So saying, Woe stood from his seat, somewhat shakily as the blood rushed back into his head. He righted himself soon though, and made his way toward the door.

[Woe]

"Hello, yes? I represent the Hospitality Guild." Woe was stood at the reception of one Eapheo Perfeita, being attended by the very bored-looking Rufion Perfeita. The lad's hand idly traced the pommel of his rapier, and he sighed with every word Woe shot his way. Nevertheless, the mention of the Hospitality Guild brought a glint of recognition to the lad's eye. He looked up, throwing his head back with a dramatic flair as he took in the sight of Woe.

"You've got something my father wants? He's heard several 'representatives' of your Guild now in no less than twenty trials. Everyone of them appears to leave empty handed, with a disturbed and shattered look on their face. What hope do you have among these seasoned negotiator to attain what they failed to acquire from my father?"

Woe blinked a few times, and then cocked an eyebrow at the boy. "I won't know until I get an audience with him. Surely there's something he wants. And I feel if anyone is in a position to offer it, it is me, here and now." Woe smiled thinly at the lad.

Rufion's eyes flared dangerously, as if he felt he was being challenged, or anticipated having to put Woe down in just a few moments. Wondering what that expression was about, Woe desperately ached to use his Empathy magics to try and decipher the look, but his Abrogant spark was imprisoning Empathy behind a solid field of denial. It would be too obvious if he tried to exert himself here.

"Just tell him, I may have a way to resolve his issues with the Materials Guild..." Woe left it at that, and backed away from Rufion, taking a seat at a nearby sofa. Rufion gave him one last glare, before leaving the room, sauntering into the back to fetch his father, presumably. A loud conversation, audible over the din of the forge, was held in Vahanic, which Woe knew not a word of. By the time they were finished speaking, Rufion arrived ahead of his father, and stormed out of the smithy.

Eapheo glanced apologetically at Woe, but didn't seem at all moved by his presence. "Listen, if you're after my help for the Hospitality Guild, you can forget it. Raw Materials has strangled my supply to the point that I cannot but acquiesce if I wish to fulfill what orders I have."

"I understand." Woe said, standing up from the sofa to meet Eapheo halfway across the reception. "But if there's anything else you need, things you cannot acquire on your own, I have my means... There is a shipment of Faldrunium on its..."

Eapheo shot him down right there. "Yes, half the Guilds already know about your order. Nothing passes beneath the notice of Raw Materials. They have eyes everywhere in Customs and in the rookeries. Not a single parcel passes through customs without their knowing, so you can kiss your precious faldrunium goodbye."

Woe kept a straight face through the implication of what Eapheo was saying. While it's true that confiscation of his goods would present another obstacle and step to overcome, he could overcome it. With the help of his Grifter's Eye, he couldn't be robbed of his goods without knowing of its exact location. Nobody swindled a marked of Chamadarst, however gullible the marked may be.

"I'm aware." Woe said, telling a slight fib. "But I tell you I will have a portion of Faldrunium for you, to make such blades as only legends can tell. But, if that isn't enough..."

Woe shrugged, and stepped back toward the exit. "Surely there's something else I can do, something you may need?"

Eapheo wrung his hands. He did not look like a man to do that for the slightest reason, so Woe could tell there was something definitely troubling him. "You need only tell me what it is, and it will be done."

The famed bladesmith and Councilor of the Guild of War fidgeted, looking one way and another. Then he pulled a book out of the pocket of his apron. "The truth is, I anticipated your arrival. I knew about your Faldrunium arrangement..."

"Where are you going with this?"

"And there is something perhaps you can help me with... You look like a fighting type."

Woe shrugged, then nodded. Eapheo returned the gesture. Then pressed the tome into Woe's hands. On it, was written in common the words of Sa-Ki-Uata, a famous smith of the Guild of War, as billed by the cover. "What is this for?"

"For learning what Faldrunium can do as a weapon... So you can make your specifications. As for what you can do for me..." Eapheo took a look out the window, over Woe's shoulder, then returned his gaze to the Webspinner. "You can take my son's place in the draft, of the Dragoons, when the fighting comes to Quacia, as it must."

Woe paused a moment, considering. He felt he'd be forced into this conflict as a mere soldier or commander sooner or later. So this came as no great shock. Still, he didn't suppose Rufion would agree to this arrangement.

"Doubtless you've met my son. He is tempestuous, and greedy for glory. He wishes to throw his life away on the Creep... You must negotiate with one of the recruiters, offer yourself his stead... His papers are hidden in page 45." Eapheo nodded at Woe.

Was that all? "I will do this then, but time is short. I need to make my preparations for my employer, before I can go off playing officer." So saying, Woe nodded to Eapheo. The less they said proceeding from this point, perhaps the better. Eyes were all over the place, after all, especially in a city flush with arcane users, and all of them with influential masters.

He would see this recruiter, and take the place of Rufion, but first, he needed to insure the fate of his Faldrunium shipment.

[Doran]

Woe:

Knowledge:
[*]Politics: Quacia has instituted a draft of young men.
[*]Politics: War with the Creep isn't far from arrival.
[*]Intelligence: Contact: Eapheo Perfeita: A Grandmaster Smith and Councilor of the Guild of War in Quacia.
[*]Intelligence: Contact: Rufion Perfeita: An impetuous would-be soldier.
[*]Persuasion: War and Hospitality 1/1
[*]Negotiation: War and Hospitality 1/1

Loot:

• A book about Faldrunium smithing by Sa-Ki-Uata.
• Draft papers for Rufion Perfeita.

Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: 10, for meeting a famous smith.
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10

- - -

Comments: Asking Fleaface to learn the politics of the “economic machine of Quacia” is definitely a good idea. I have to admit, I’ve grown rather fond of Woe’s NPC. He is quite a useful man!

Drugs seem to be a popular way of dealing with the thirst. If only Woe had listened to Magpie when it comes to flaying! I quite enjoyed reading your PC’s thoughts in that regard!

Fleaface’s reaction to seeing Woe upon his return was interesting. I wonder if Fleaface has a higher tolerance for drugs!

I also liked the subsequent interaction with Rufion.

Enjoy your rewards!