Post by Elestera on Jan 27, 2007 21:20:19 GMT -5
The first thing Lazek had noticed about the man was that his hands were wrapped tightly in heavy cloth. Even at a distance, the rough bandages stood out against his otherwise immaculate, if simple, outfit. He’d entered the bazaar and taken a few steps down the dusty trail between stalls, glancing back and forth as he went, searching for something. He was a tall man, and his skin was too pale to be a local. His posture was stiff and his movements precise, not a gesture wasted as he paused to question one of the local guides. Lazek continued to watch him until he turned and wandered down a nearby row and out of sight. Something about the tall man had been unsettling, but he simply shrugged it off and reclined back into his cart.
His goods, the legitimate ones at least, had long since been sold, leaving the inside of his cart bare save for the various pieces of cloth used to shield merchandise from the elements in transit. Exotic foodstuffs, silks from across the western sea, even a few tomes and tools that had been special orders by repeat customers. All had left his possession and been replaced with solid coin. He grinned slightly as he realized that even with the cost of a new Runner to pull the empty cart home, he was still going to turn a profit.
He closed his eyes, letting the numbers dance through his mind, as well as reminding himself of the few items he still needed to deliver. He’d have to wait for the guards to change first, of course. He’d found the night watch of Aralus to be much more agreeable to his side businesses than the day shift. Dusk was still several hours away, and a nap was starting to seem like a good idea. He’d almost fallen asleep when he realized that he couldn’t feel the warmth of the twin suns on his face any longer. He blinked a single eye open, and the first thing to come into focus was a hand covered in heavy bandages. The tall man had apparently wandered back into his row, and was now standing at the side of his wooden cart, staring down at him and blocking the light.
He sat upright with a stretch, arms raised above his head as he scooted forward, chitin booted feet digging into the dust as he stood and brushed himself off, “Sorry, but I’m closed already. Inventory’s gone, as you can see.”
The man shook his head slowly, “I’ve not come to trade with you, merchant.”
Lazek blinked, peering at the man for a moment. Up close it was apparent he’d been given a high degree of physical training. Broad shoulders accompanied by thick limbs, and his light hair cut close to his skull. His proximity quickly made their differences in size plain, as the man was easily half a foot taller than his own wiry 5’8”. He could imagine that in many other circumstances, he’d be greatly intimidated dealing with this man. Right now he was simply annoyed, “If you aren’t lookin’ to trade, what’re you doing here?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, “My name is Erimus. I am offering my services as a guard; I was told that there is money in such ventures. Bandits on the western road, I believe?”
“A guard, huh? Why aren’t you signing on with the bigger caravans? Or the mercenary companies?” he shifted slightly on his feet, hands finding the pockets in his vest. It was true the bandits had been growing bold lately. A bandit’s spear had pierced the flank of his old Runner, leaving the insectoid beast with just enough life in it to get to the gates before collapsing from its wounds. Even so, Lazek had been trading for nearly a decade, and something about this offer didn’t sit right with him.
“I do not wish to become a mercenary, and the bigger caravans only want permanent guards. I seek someone going west that will accept my aid instead of coins I do not posses,” Erimus’s tone was as stiff as his posture, in fact Lazek wasn’t sure he’d moved an inch since waking him up.
The merchant pondered for a moment, then simply shook his head, “Sorry, I ain’t hiring right now. Not even cheap labor that looks like he’s been breakin’ his hands over and over again.”
“My hands are fine, but if that is what you wish, I shall depart,” Erimus bowed slightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, left over right, and resting his hands on his shoulders for a moment. Without another word, he turned on his heel precisely and walked away.
Lazek stood there scratching the back of his head through his black hair. He sighed in confusion, picking up his cloak from the bench at the front of the cart and lying back down in the bed of it. Draping the material over his face to block out the last few hours of sunlight, he let the sounds of the market lull him into sleep.
His goods, the legitimate ones at least, had long since been sold, leaving the inside of his cart bare save for the various pieces of cloth used to shield merchandise from the elements in transit. Exotic foodstuffs, silks from across the western sea, even a few tomes and tools that had been special orders by repeat customers. All had left his possession and been replaced with solid coin. He grinned slightly as he realized that even with the cost of a new Runner to pull the empty cart home, he was still going to turn a profit.
He closed his eyes, letting the numbers dance through his mind, as well as reminding himself of the few items he still needed to deliver. He’d have to wait for the guards to change first, of course. He’d found the night watch of Aralus to be much more agreeable to his side businesses than the day shift. Dusk was still several hours away, and a nap was starting to seem like a good idea. He’d almost fallen asleep when he realized that he couldn’t feel the warmth of the twin suns on his face any longer. He blinked a single eye open, and the first thing to come into focus was a hand covered in heavy bandages. The tall man had apparently wandered back into his row, and was now standing at the side of his wooden cart, staring down at him and blocking the light.
He sat upright with a stretch, arms raised above his head as he scooted forward, chitin booted feet digging into the dust as he stood and brushed himself off, “Sorry, but I’m closed already. Inventory’s gone, as you can see.”
The man shook his head slowly, “I’ve not come to trade with you, merchant.”
Lazek blinked, peering at the man for a moment. Up close it was apparent he’d been given a high degree of physical training. Broad shoulders accompanied by thick limbs, and his light hair cut close to his skull. His proximity quickly made their differences in size plain, as the man was easily half a foot taller than his own wiry 5’8”. He could imagine that in many other circumstances, he’d be greatly intimidated dealing with this man. Right now he was simply annoyed, “If you aren’t lookin’ to trade, what’re you doing here?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, “My name is Erimus. I am offering my services as a guard; I was told that there is money in such ventures. Bandits on the western road, I believe?”
“A guard, huh? Why aren’t you signing on with the bigger caravans? Or the mercenary companies?” he shifted slightly on his feet, hands finding the pockets in his vest. It was true the bandits had been growing bold lately. A bandit’s spear had pierced the flank of his old Runner, leaving the insectoid beast with just enough life in it to get to the gates before collapsing from its wounds. Even so, Lazek had been trading for nearly a decade, and something about this offer didn’t sit right with him.
“I do not wish to become a mercenary, and the bigger caravans only want permanent guards. I seek someone going west that will accept my aid instead of coins I do not posses,” Erimus’s tone was as stiff as his posture, in fact Lazek wasn’t sure he’d moved an inch since waking him up.
The merchant pondered for a moment, then simply shook his head, “Sorry, I ain’t hiring right now. Not even cheap labor that looks like he’s been breakin’ his hands over and over again.”
“My hands are fine, but if that is what you wish, I shall depart,” Erimus bowed slightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, left over right, and resting his hands on his shoulders for a moment. Without another word, he turned on his heel precisely and walked away.
Lazek stood there scratching the back of his head through his black hair. He sighed in confusion, picking up his cloak from the bench at the front of the cart and lying back down in the bed of it. Draping the material over his face to block out the last few hours of sunlight, he let the sounds of the market lull him into sleep.