Touch Of Fate
/ Touch of Fate 215 In Need of an Acting Skill
Negotiations themselves went rather smoothly, and it only took him an hour or so to receive his purchases. He left better equipped than when he went in, but his wallet had taken a beating in the process. Apparently, there was some kind of blockade going on out at sea, which, when combined with the siege itself, was creating some difficulties in getting fresh materials.
Mike thought it was a little strange that he hadn't heard about the blockade yet, but figured that the organization wouldn't want to harm their relationship with him by cheating him at this juncture. Besides, he immediately struck it off with the broker, who started by offering him a generously proportioned breakfast, free of charge. He decided to just consider it a service fee.
He'd successfully acquired several materials he could use for crafting, but the selection had been more limited than he'd expected. Evidently, the wartime squeeze effected even the underworld merchants. Nevertheless, he should have enough to start working on a few of his projects, even if only the simplest. A part of him was itching to take the materials back to the dorm and start working on transmuting mana cores while using Artifice. Combined with the little practice he was able to complete last night after escorting Tal back to the dorms, he thought he might be close to a breakthrough.
However, he still had a few tasks left to complete.
The next destination was a merchant's stall in one of the poorer corners of the Span's markets. Finding it proved easier than he anticipated, as it was the only one in the area that was still open. Unlike the actual market district in the New City, it seemed that these businesses were more adversely effected by the siege.
The merchant in question dealt primarily in pottery, and several clay vessels of various sizes and shapes were on display. An old, grumpy looking man sat in a folding chair nearby, idly fanning himself while sweating in the morning heat. He glanced at Mike briefly, before losing interest and resuming continuing to stare into the distance.
[That's strange, the note said to meet the contact here at four bells.]
Almost as if it was responding to his thought, the distant clocktower sounded four times.
[Ha! I knew I was right. Could they be late.]
"Alright, boy. Let's get this over with." The store keeper groaned while standing. "Take a look at that pot over there, and pretend like you are seriously interested in it."
"What? Really?" Mike asked while looking around at the deserted street. "Is this necessary?"
While he was waiting for a response, he used Appraise on the man who was apparently the information broker.
--------------------------------
Seth of the Mountain Green
Age: 34
Race: Human
Class: Infiltrator
Title: Master of Disguise
-------------------------------
Mike swallowed his surprise. The man in front of him looked seventy, at the very least.
[That's an impressive disguise.]
Seth glowered at him, "Yes, its necessary. You never know who might be watching. Now, act like I just gave you a bad price for the pot, argue for minute, then lose interest and find something else. While you do so, tell me what kind of information you are looking for."
Trying to keep the various instructions straight in his head, Mike pretended to grow irate, and made a slashing motion with his hand. "There are a lot of things I want to know, but mostly I need information about the Tenundians. Specifically what they are planning on doing now that their initial assault has failed."
"Dial it back a bit. You don't want to oversell it." Seth replied with a placating but exasperated expression, "That can be arranged, but it will be hard to give you anything you couldn't just get from your teacher."
Mike had been expecting them to know a fair amount about him, all things considered, so the revelation didn't surprise him. Placing the pot on the stand, and moving over to a bowl, he twisted his face into a look of mild irritation while asking, "Can it be done? Emmanuel has decided to keep certain details close to his chest. I think he knows more than he's telling, but I can exactly force it out of him."
"Hey man, just making sure you know what you are asking for. Anyway, that kind of information will take a bit of snooping to get a hold of. Ever since the battle ended yesterday, the Tenundian command section has been cracking down on intelligence leaks. Getting in there is going to be difficult, and therefore expensive."
Casually examining the bowl, he asked. "Are you really telling me that you haven't already sent someone to figure that kind of thing out?"
Seth laughed. "I didn't say that at all, but you have to take care of your field agents, or they end up working for someone else. In the worst case, without telling you." He lifted up another bowl that was slightly different than the one Mike was holding. "Come check this one out, and pretend to be listening seriously."
Mike complied.
"Now, we can get you that information specifically, or I can have one of my people compile a report on the full military specifications of the Tenundians and the majority of their combat forces. Look surprised now." The 'shopkeeper' muttered while handing him the bowl.
He didn't have to pretend, the idea of such a report was startling. Especially, since he was dealing with what amounted to a non-state entity engaged in illicit information trading.
"Perfect. The second option is obviously more expensive, and will take more time to fulfill, however, most of the information has already been gathered so it should only be a matter of putting it together."
"How much?"
Seth grinned at him. "In a business like this, we don't discuss price until the required information is in hand. Come back at ten bells, and we'll have both options available by then. The cost will be determined by how valuable or worthless that information became in the intervening time."
Mike frowned. Since it was unlikely for the Tenundians to simply pull up their stakes and leave, chances are the price of that kind of data would only increase. He briefly debated about simply walking away at this point. There were probably other places that could provide him with information, and he could always beg his teacher to let him in on it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Seth's report would come in handy.
Finally, he nodded. "Alright, I'll be back."
"Ah, before you go, buy that bowl. Its only two silver."
"...Why?"
Seth gave him an ingratiating smile, "Hey, a man's got to make a living. Just think of it as a commission fee."
Sighing, Mike handed the money over, and left. Hoping to put some distance between himself and the rapacious information broker.
[What am I going to do with this?] Mike asked himself while looking down at the bowl. Out of curiosity, he used Appraise.
-----------------------------------------
Clay Bowl
Item: Tier 1
A simple clay bowl made by a potter.
-----------------------------------------
[...Helpful.]
Mike tossed in his bag and promptly forgot about it. It was still early in the day, and he had a few hours until his strategy meeting at the makeshift Almiran headquarters. If he went back to the dorms now, he could maybe get in a solid hour's worth of work before he had to leave. It was tempting.
Alternatively, he could hang out in the market district until the meeting. This option eventually won out by appealing to his lazy side, the heavy breakfast from this morning making him feel sleepy and content.
[I guess I'll stop in and see Gail. Now that I think about it, its been a while since I've worked on my Alchemy. Maybe this would be a good chance to do so. I'm sure she would be willing to let me use her facilities.]
Destination decided, he began making his way back to the market district by the most direct path he could manage. This took him near the slums, where he could sense Selene, presumably still watching over Brenden. He was briefly tempted to make a detour, but figured that the beastman probably still needed some space, since he hadn't come back on his own yet.
Hopefully, Brenden wasn't one of those tsundere types that refuses to return until someone asks them. He didn't seem like the type, but for some reason Mike couldn't shake the idea.
[I'm sure he's just too busy unifying the local gangs.] He thought about it some more. [Well, I'll give him a few more days before I bother him.]
Mike was walking through a narrow and narrow and sparsely populated street when he detected several sources of mild hostility. Blinking in surprise, he looked around and realized that he'd unconsciously strayed into one of the rougher neighborhoods. He'd apparently become the target of a group with less than honorable intentions. Judging from the sensations he was getting, they were working to carefully surround him.
[Huh. How long has it been since the last time I was attacked by thieves?] Mike thought idly while he strolled nonchalantly down the street. He was already mentally preparing for when they struck.
A small hooded figure stepped out in front of him. For a moment, his focus slipped. The thief he was facing couldn't have been any older than her early teens. While he wasn't one to underestimate an opponent based on their age, he found himself losing all interest in the coming fight.
As she advanced forward, with a determined look on her face, he relaxed into a stance that would allow for greater range of motion. Hopefully, she wouldn't resist too strongly.
She stopped a little outside of his reach, pointed one finger at him, and dramatically announced. "There you are, you lying, conniving, cheating bastard! How could you?! What about our child? Little Marty? What are we supposed to tell him."
Mike's mind blanked for a second as the unexpected words hit him right as he was about to launch himself into a disabling maneuver. All he could muster in his defense was a simple, "Huh?"
"Play along." She hissed through clenched teeth, before marching up to him and grabbing him by the collar. With a surprising amount of strength she began dragging him towards a major road. As she did so, he noticed that the hostile presences stated to fall back. "Just wait until we get home! I'm going to make sure you never stray again!"
[I see. I can't believe that actually worked. Do they really think I would be with a girl that young?]
Dismissing the troubling line of thought, he spoke quietly to her. "You can stop. They've backed off."
The girl turned. "Eh? Already? They don't usually give up that quickly." She let go of his collar and favored him with a smile. "You should watch yourself, mister. The Crows are a nasty bunch. They have a habit of beating their victims rather badly. You're lucky I came along."
He smiled ruefully, "I guess I am. Thanks."
She nodded as if that were to be expected. "Still, I can't believe they are still doing this stuff. Don't they know there's a war going on, and good people are dying?"
The girl suddenly became gloomy. Mike had the overwhelming instinct to pat her on the back and tell her everything was going to be okay. But before he had the chance to, she bounced back into cheerfulness with a speed that was liable to give someone whiplash.
She threw back her hood revealing two white rabbit ears. "Anyway, the name's Lara. What's yours?"
Chapter end
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