Metropolis of Imhabia (Ronin/open)

[Yoshimutsu Watanabe]

Imhabia, jewel of the Ronin, once a small smuggler's port or staging point for thieves and brigands, now a bustling metropolis. Home to many, not just the Ronin and not just Isonians, Imhabia is alive with a miltitude of races and peoples.

Any and all are ever welcome to reside in Imhabia under the munificence of the Ronin, but not without a price. All who lived within the walls of Imhabia paid Ronin taxes and levies; taxes naturally being lower for full citizens. Any could reside, but only those who swore allegiance to Isonia were able to claim the title of "Citizen of Imhabia".

Such was the way of all things, and with the changing of the times gold was in short supply. Short shrift was given to heathens, barely tolerated as it was, that could not or would not pay taxes. So it was that a crowd of onlookers gathered as a troop of Ronin heavy infantry stormed the house one defaulter this bitterly cold morning.

Chotto, chotto! Move quickly now, out you go! Quicker to pay tax to city, not so quick to take house. Out! a largish soldier prodded a man with the butt of his yari spear, forcing him down the steps from the mean townhouse on the lower side of Imhabia.

On the man's arm a simple band showed, the kanji symbol for 'pride' denoting the man's adherence to the heathen Foret faith. A faint hiss erupted from the crowd gathered and the man balked momentarily before being felled by a clubbing blow from the yari's haft.

Move, dog, I have no time for this, I have orders to relocate you to the fountain quarter. Now, move!

Unceremoniously the troops loaded the man and his meagre belongings onto a waiting cart and rattled off to the fountain quarter of the city, the crowd dispersing in their wake...

[beggar man]

He trudged along through the crowded streets of Imhabia taking care to not let his wrappings drag through the mud puddles for the tenth time. Looking presentable wasn't the purpose for that day had long gone, rather he was trying to keep his rags as dry as possible for they did not move as well when the wetness was made stiff from the cold. Stuffed under his arm was a large roll of parchments and in his other hand were nails and a rusty hammer. In his pocket was a bag of gold and a pass to give him permit to carry out his task.

Having already posted a few parchments at the gates of the more desirable suburbs and the gathering places along the main thoroughfares, he felt like he had already fulfilled the wishes of the Ronin Lord, yet he had made it clear that all must be posted at his desired locations. Although he was getting tired and his joints were stiff with a cold ache, he wasn't one to leave a Ronin Lord's wishes unfulfilled, especially when there was Gold involved. Besides, everyone knew that the Ronin Lords would find out if someone didn't do what they said. The Gold would buy him enough rest and comfort later anyways.

It was only a shame he couldn't read. The parchment notices must hold something important or at least amusing, for everytime he nailed one up, the crowd it drew would immediately become excited. No one bothered to tell him what it was about though. Filth like him wasn't worth talking to in those parts. Even Kerrick at the Fidler Crab eyed him suspiciously until he showed Kerrick his permit.

Having made his rounds, he stood in the town square with only one left. Finding a large wall to put this one on, he applied it with care, putting the nails through the mortar in the wall. A passerby stopped and began to read it. Immediately he called to others and told them to read this....

"A handsome and somewhat mysterious Ronin Lord seeks the company of a desirable and adventurous lady that likes long walks in the woods, isn't afraid of a little blood, even better if its alot of blood, and wants to complete a man. Further details will be given shortly."

[grey man]

The grey man walked through Imhabia, watching always watching. That was what he was paid to do, to watch, and to see, and to report. He was good at it, nobody noticed him, nobody stopped doing what they were doing or stopped saying what they were saying.

As always, there were complaints about taxes. Everyone complained, especially the foreigners and heathens. Recently a few followers of Foret had been turfed out for non-payment of taxes, so he was walking through the neighbourhoods where Forets tended to live.

The grumblings were louder, as they always were, after an incident like this. Several had announced their plans to leave town, once and for all. A couple he even recognised as having announced that about once a year for the past several years. He smiled quietly to himself about them -- they were merchants and doing very well for themselves, even with the taxes they were paying, they weren't about to leave.

A couple more were talking about doing something about it. He noted them, and they would be in his report, usually they were harmless as well. But one of them would need question... he sounded more professional, and said he could bring in the Angels if the people in the crowd around him rebelled, and opened the gates. Yes, that one would have to disappear.

He walked on.

[Lia MoonFlower]

There were rumours on the wind, that a secret promotion or two had been made deep in the Ronin ranks, and that Go Seigen, the wandering samurai, and Lia MoonFlower were now of the rank of Chu-nin.

Some even spoke glowingly of how Seigen had come to his promotion, of his hard work and his time dedicated to the guild. While others whispered that it was Lia's relationship with the Jo-nin Yoshimutsu which gave her this exhalted position, near him and almost practically by his side.

Sitting in a room above the noisy crowd of the Fiddler Crab, Lia raised an eyebrow at this last little bit of information. She shrugged slightly at the informant, not caring what the populace had to say in regards to her relationship with the Jo-nin. Nothing of the sort really mattered much to her except the extreme tiredness which seemed to rack her frame every day, every hour. It had been like that since her injury at the tournament, which still twinged when she moved too fast.

A lose velveteen robe hung on the Chu-nin's frame as she sat at the table, her long red hair unbound for the moment. The trip into Imhabia was a planned quick one, checking up on things and picking up a few items that she couldn't get out at Yoshimutsu's keep, and then she would be returning there.

Of course, she could go back to her keep, but what would be the fun in that? Xyen was there, merrily playing lady of the manor and enjoying herself, and Lia could care less about the day to day operations.

All Lia wanted to do was sleep. And she could do that just as well in Yoshimutsu's bed as in her own. Better, in fact.

A soft smile alighted on the elfwoman's face as she began to drift off into a not infrequent daydream of being in Yoshimutsu's arms, just feeling the warmth of his presence near her. It was a common thread in her mind when she was away from him, and it made her want to hasten her trip that much more.

Tightening the robe around her to where it appeared a bit more presentable and leaving her hair unbound, she tread down the stairs of the tavern to the main taproom, her eyes searching out Kerrick. Some of the information she was waiting on would still be another few days, and she loathed the idea of being away from Yoshimutsu for that long.

"Kerrick, ye hear any thin' 'bout those inquiries I sent out yesterday?" she asked, settling herself comfortably on a stool. The looks sent her way didn't bother her - she was used to her 'strange ways' being commented on. It added for extra zest in her life, hearing all the gossip.

[Yuukomono]

With the apparent break in the flow of the tournament, Yuukomono Norihako could do little to further her mission to the lands of the Ronin, and as such, she decided to explore the city of Imhabia; what better way to pass time and learn more of her hosts? The city was impressive, though she had seen few port cities in her lifetime, and had she not spend so much time training and exploring as a younger girl, Yuukomono would have found its rough beauty disarming.

Kajiwara, her assigned escort and now friend still walked beside her, staying as close as respectfully possible, his steel-grey eyes quickly darting about. He had been nervous since the assault on her on the spectator grounds by several brawlers, and perhaps rightly so. Even though she was more then capable of handling them, Yuukomono knew that Kajiwara was only doing his sworn duty, and as a samurai, he could not, would not do any less. Though she had wanted to put her more deadly ceremonial hashi in her hair, he had warned her against doing this saying that someone would know what they were for. Also, it would be easier to conceal her true status if she used the duller, less attractive wood that she did now. He had though, allowed her to keep her fan out and open, and Yuukomono made sure to keep the nasty surprise it had within it ready to ward away potential threats.

Though they were pointed in the quickest direction of the Fiddler Crab tavern, Yuukomono had insisted they take a longer route in order to see more of the port city, much to the dismay of her guardian. With the memory of the attack fresh in his mind, he was quick to ward her away from exploring alleys and sheltered areas, and kept a hand on his sheathes when they ran into a mob of "heathens" being herded by Ronin soldiers and were forced down a series of shady streets.

When they finally saw the tavern, Yuukomono felt her companion breathe a sight of relief, though something told her that being inside a crowded, dimly-lit building in the middle of a wharf district wouldn't be much better then anywhere outside. It was rumored that several of the Ronin themselves conducted some of the more unmentionable buisness deals here.

Being sure to keep their papers visible for the bouncer Jerem, Yuukomono entered first and made her way to the bar area, with Kajiwara casually breaking away from her and following a few moments later, keeping within the mingled crowd of souls, less his presence attract more attention to her then necessary, though Yuukomono doubted anyone would pay her any heed. She was in all ways a low-ranking emissary: her clothes and posture, her walk and her speech had been tailored to show a poor, insignificant young girl who may have been blessed with a fair face, but would never be able to attain the rank to put it to use.

The bartender, a man named Kerrick Halfhand, seemed decent enough a person, but he was being spoken to at the moment, so Yuukomono casually put several small coins for a drink of poor potency, a drink that someone of her status would have asked for, on the bar and waited for service. Kajiwara took a seat at a nearby table and kept her within his peripheral vision and gestured to a young lady to come sit and talk/flirt with him for effect.

She wanted to laugh at the gesture; the audacity of his actions was easily the funniest thing she had seen in a long time. But she didn't have the luxury of that, so instead she let her laughter flicker in her eyes for a moment before returning them to the bar as she waited for her drink.

[Lia MoonFlower]

The longer Lia sat at the bar in the fiddler crab, it seemed the more news came to her with very unsettling comments. Bothered greatly by this, the Chu-nin of the Ronin stood and made her way back up to her room, not pausing to speak with any other who tried to catch her eye.

Thoughts turned in upon herself as she stripped immediately of the robe that she wore, and in doing so, began to rummage through her other clothes, looking for the proper outfit in which to go on a 'sightseeing mission'. It didn't take very long for her to find what she was looking for, and soon a figure clad in pure black leather was see exiting the room in which Lia was staying in, scaling towards the roof.

[center]***[/center]

The mask was hot, and Lia found herself grimacing behind it, wanting to rip it off and breathe in the air deeply - or, as deep as one would dare to breathe here in the cities. Even in the more sophisticated ones, sewers were primitive at best, and Imhabia was no exception. Of course, that was neither here nor there, and Lia found herself once more focusing on her own fact finding mission.

Pressing further into the shadows, she stilled her breath as she listened to one of the more hidden Foretian lords who kept a residence in Imhabia speak with his peers. He seemed to be gloating over a victory over an unbannered and undefenseless Dardenite realm - one that seemed to be suspiciously devoid of peasants and any real force.

She frowned, inching closer to the window from the spot in which she hung quite precariously from the rooftop. Luckily, his residence remained in a heavily shadowed part of the city, and she was able to hang there undetected for the moment, at least.

The sound of laughter floating away from the window awoke Lia from her reverie, and she carefully scaled the wall and pulled herself in through the window, crouching low, green eyes ever alert...

[Sartek]

Sartek stood on the outskirts of Imhabia. He was looking at his future home but his mind was elsewhere. With the departure of his dear friend Ryloc, Sartek had found himself confused and not sure which direction to go. Both in life and on the road he was travelling. One night, when he was laying back looking at the stars, a face popped into his thoughts. The face of another friend. So it passed that he now found himself on the verge of a new journey. He just hoped Yosh and the Ronin would make him welcome.

Sighing, he threw his backpack back over his shoulder and headed into town.

[Lia MoonFlower]

Gripping the windowsill tightly, the elfwoman carefully clawed her way into the room of the Foretian lord, her eyes narrowed dangerously. The smell of death hung over the keep, and Lia kept her guard on at all times, her back to the wall and her eyes darting back and forth.

Keeping to the shadows, she crept along inside the keep to another room, where the "lord"'s files were kept, all in a neat little pile. Flipping through them, she found the information that she sought and quickly stuffed the files and parchments into her shadowwear.

It didn't take much for Lia to decide that the game was over, and she needed to get back to safety - which was primarily OUTSIDE of this keep. Creeping back through the shadows, she made her way to the window in which she had made an entrance and began to climb out of it.

It was then that she was spotted, a black foot sliding out the window. Hearing the shout of the guards, Lia grimaced and quickly made her descent down the wall, booted feet making as little noise as possible as she ran through the gardens of the keep, and back towards the main city where she would have the luxury of blending in with the populace, and not being targeted anymore.

However, her luck was soon to run out. Scaling the outer wall, Lia felt the bite of cold steel into her right shoulder as she flipped over the wall, and a strange burning sensation began racing through her veins. Checking to make sure that the wound was clean, she continued to run, the poison of the blade beginning to make its way into her system.

Muttering incoherently to herself, she tore off the leather mask that hid her features and ran directly for the Fiddler Crab, her pace slowing enormously. Collapsing just inside the door, she lifted her head for a moment before croaking out Yoshimutsu's name, and then the darkness overtook her as the poison took hold.

[Sun Ce]

As Sun Ce stands staring at the walls of Imhabia for the first time, finally reaching his destination. Staring at the gates weary from travel, passes through the gates to find a place of rest.

Travelling through the narrow street's for seemingly a long time, Sun Ce finally find's an inn to rest called the Fiddler Crab. After entering the inn and his vision adjusting to the dim surroundings, spots a table in a corner and heads for it. Dropping down on the bench calls over to the bartender for some refreshments and a room for the night.
Sipping on his ale slowly, trying to get his thought's back, but the sleepiness was starting to overtake him slowly from his long journey.

TBC

[Go Seigen]

Go Seigen had been surprised by the promotion. He had not looked for it, he had not asked for it, he had not been expecting it. It had come quietly as well, without fanfare or ceremony, the Jo-nin Dainichi had address him as Chu-nin. He almost missed it at the time, being focussed on the discussion, and the task at hand.

The Ronin had been his home for all his time in the lands of Maxim, and he had been happy there. He had visitted many other lands, usually at the head of a conquering army, and none had impressed him enough that he would even think of moving elsewhere.

[Yuushi]

The city had seemed unusually busy today. The wagons were already heading for home with the supplies that I had purchased. Life was different now I thought as I walked toward the tavern. It was the same tavern in which I had so anxiously waited for the Jo-nin Dainichi so nervously. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever expected her to take me in as she did.

I was now a Ronin and Dainichi had seen to it that I knew the meaning of that word and beyond. Hours of endless training came before the first war that I was involved in. Days of battle under the most adverse conditions possible, yet no word of complaint was ever uttered. That was one distinct Ronin characteristic but there was so much more about this breed of men and women who were so closely bound together. It was a way I had come to honor and respect and I desired only to learn more.

A posted parchment caught my eye and I stopped to read it. An unusual chill ran down my spine with sparked intrigue as I read: A Ronin Lord seeks the company of a desirable and adventurous lady ... After finishing reading the last word I looked around to see if anyone was looking and tore the parchment from the post. I folded it and slid it quickly inside my cloak and walked with a brighter step as my mind explored the possibilities and I continued on my way to the tavern.

[Lucien Starshadow]

Lucien stood at the bow of his ship, the Stormrider, watching as they approached the docks of Imhabia. He was returning in a far beter mood than he had left. When the ship had left port, he'd been quite upset at his performance in the tourneyment.

He turned and looked backward, seeing the reason for his lightened mood following in Stormrider's wake. The former pirate ship would bring a fair bit of gold in prize money. He had no trouble admitting that the new sails had proven their worth. Enchanted to take on the coloration of the sky behind them, they enabled Stormrider to approach targets far closer before being spotted.

This particular pirate had been chasing down an Isonian merchantman when Lucien's vessel had found it. The brigands soon discovered that the line between hunter and hunted can be very fine indeed.

[Leto-san]

Leto had returned to Imhabia after the work he had done. The work was always interesting, but rarely safe. The last bit of work he had done involved a relatively small ogre and a rather large clan of bandits. Leto enjoyed returning to Imhabia after the job, his home away from home.

Leto was not born in Imhabia but had adopted it as his second home when RONIN had adopted him. Leto was a magic user, a battle mage. He loved what he did and RONIN gave him every opportunity to utilize his talents. He had not destroyed the bandits on his own, that was done with the assitance of a troop of Isonia's finest. The ogre, that was all his because it was not just a normal ogre, it was an ogre mage. Not one of the most delicate forms of casters, but crudely strong none the less.

The thing that worried Leto the most was not possible repercussions from the last job he did, but the letter on his desk. He had read the letter three times, but nothing had changed. It looked like a spectre from his past had returned. With that, there would be no rest or peace until what had been done in the past could be attoned for. It was time to break the seal.

Leto unlocked a chest in the corner of his room, pulling out a scroll. The scroll was sealed with wax, carrying the symbol of a war hammer and a crown of roses. The symbol brought back many memories, but Leto shook them off. Jevroth would know the second he broke the seal, and would know that he needed to come, if not why. Taking a deep beath and offering a prayer to Isonia his patron goddess, Leto broke the seal.

[Jevroth]

Imhabia, the name echoed in Jevroth's ears. Imhabia was a city much like any city: large, crowded, noisy, and an aroma that was unique to itself. Unlike other citys, Jevroth was actually looking forward to visiting it. Imhabia was a port town, home of the (in)famous RONIN, a group of individuals news of whose exploits had reached the far-off lands of Jevroth's birth.

Jevroth had heard of the RONIN from Leto, a magic user he had become acquaitenced with. Leto had been traveling in the far-off lands when they met and then had formed a common bond. Fighting off a hoarde of ravenous goblins will do that to you. It was at Leto's request that Jevroth travelled to Imhabia. The seal had been broken, he knew that the moment it had been. He didn't know why he had been summoned, but knowing Leto, it was not going to be pretty.

[Lia MoonFlower]

The air was heavily perfumed around Lia as she continued her looking runs, already more fires burning deep in the night. The wound on her shoulder twitched, the poison still in her veins, but slowed, thanks to a healer in Imhabia. Lia hadn't needed to look into the healer's eyes to see the truth - the poison was lethal.

Sighing to herself, the elfwoman continued to watch with keen eyes as the Foretian lord's keep continued to burn merrily, peasants panicking here and there, running to get water, and/or their belongings before they perished. A few of the serfs had taken the momentary confusion to throw off the oppression by their lords and had deserted, running into the forests before they could be forced to give more than just their blood and sweat for their livelyhood.

Luckily for Lia, most of them never really looked up.

Her arm shaking from holding her up, she settled up against the treetrunk and looked around, before closing her eyes. She had to do this alone, and on her own - she couldn't ask Yoshimutsu for help, or anyone else. It had been her own fault she had been seen getting that information from the Foretians - therefore it was her own fault that she would suffer the consequences.

Of course, that old codger known as Kerrick should keep his mouth shut about the healer having been to see her.... if he knew what was good for him.

Mossy colored eyes quickly scanning the ground, she made sure it was clear before descending and blending in, once more in her normal clothes, the kimonos of Yoshimutsu's keep long since left behind. They still hung from the wardrobe in her room at the Fiddler Crab, and Lia felt a pang at the thought of having left them with that note, instructed for Kerrick to give to the Jo-nin when he made an appearance.

[center]"I love you. But I'm sorry." [/center]

Nothing more, nothing less. If Lia didn't return in five days time, Kerrick was to seek out Yoshimutsu and hand deliver that note, and then he could tell Yoshimutsu all about the poison if he so wished - the healer had assured Lia that she would be dead by then if the antidote wasn't administered.

Creeping carefully, the shadowfae having long sinced caused their havoc on the lands, Lia entered the grounds of the Foretian lord and began to search out for his sorcerors - the only ones who could brew that particular antidote. There were a scant three days left for her to explore for such a thing, and if all went well, she'd soon be back at the Fiddler Crab and Yoshimutsu, nor any of the Ronin would know any better about her carelessness.

If not... well, by then it wouldn't matter anyway - would it?

[Lia MoonFlower]

The weight of the short sword was reassuring as Lia peered through the thick foilage towards the keep. She was lucky that this particular area was in a place where she could blend, the only potential hazard being her hair.

That, however, was being controlled. Tied back in one thick plait and covered in a green hood, there was nothing vibrant about the elfwoman at this moment except for maybe her eyes, which gleamed through the night.

Dodging from tree to tree, she was quite careful to make sure that she didn't run into anyone or anything before running from the edge of the wood to the keep, where she slunk down into the shadows, trying to catch her breath. She sighed softly, knowing that her body was severely damaged already from the poison if she couldn't pull a move like that off. Kneeling in the shadows of the keep, she peered up into the sky and sighed softly.

The moon was descending now, nightfall would soon be giving way to dawn. It would be better for her to rest, to find a secure place and sleep the day away, before making her way to the sorcerors of the Foretian...

but time, it was running short.

Bracing herself, she crept inside the castle, her eyes blinking back tears.

[Jevroth]

Jevroth had spent a long time travelling, by horse, by cart, by ship, even once by a two-man carriage, but by far the hardest part of his journey was the short walk from the inn he was staying at to the meeting place he was to find Leto. Leto had told him of the large fountain in the middle of the town and it was not difficult to find.

It was not that Jevroth did not want to help Leto, they owed each other their lives. It was not even that Jevroth was afraid to get hurt or die, he was a warrior and well used to the danger. The reason for his unease was the lack of information. Armies lived and died by information, not just the blade. In his past, Jevroth had led men into battle, many time, and he understood the true value of information. Going into this situation blind was not something he was looking forward too.

Jevroth saw the fountain from a distance away, it was a magnificent work of art. Scantily clad stone maidens cavorted with fanciful fish and playful animals. Jevroth approached the fountain with the care of a true patron of the arts. In truth, he had some small appreciate of art, more so than most would guess from their first impressions of him. He was a rough looking man, build like a stone wall, but he moved with a grace seen rarely outside of a dance hall. Strong features were only additions to his character.

He did not have to wait long for Leto to arrive. Despite the years that had passed between their meeting, he recognized Leto the moment he stepped into view. The tall, slim, dark-haired individual blended into the crowd unless you knew who he was. As Leto approached him, Jevroth set himself for whatever was to come.

[Leto-san]

After Leto broke the seal, he had prepared for the meeting to come. He knew Jevroth was coming, he knew it in his gut. He and Jevroth had fought together in the past, and it looked like they would have to fight together again. Preparations took longer than he would have liked, but Leto was not at all suprised at the length of time. In fact, he was somewhat supprised that he had been able to get everything he needed in Imhabia at all.

Leto spoke with his commanding officer about the need for personal time. He did not expound on why he need the time, but was able to comvince the officer to give him his leave. All Leto had to do now was wait for Jevroth.
******
When Jevroth reached the town of Imhabia, Leto knew the instant he stepped foot through the gates. He did not truely know how he did, but he did not argue with the feeling, he followed it whenever it made itself known. He had told Jevroth to meet him by the fountains, and he wasted no time in getting there himself. Walking through the town, he composed the message he was to give Jevroth. It was not going to be easy to explain, but he knew Jevroth would understand the need.

As he neared the fountain, he saw the man by it. He would have said the years had not been kind to Jevroth, but that would be a lie because Jevroth had looked like that the first time he met him. Jevroth would never be considered a pretty man, but he still seemed to attract his share of the women. Leto noticed that Jevroth had seen him and sped his pace up. Meeting him would have been interesting under different circumstances, but this was not going to be fun.

[Lia MoonFlower]

Sleep had been hard in coming, as the poison began to reach it's final stages. Hallucinations teased Lia's mind as pain racked through her body, patches of her skin beginning to turn mottled with bruises as the blood vessels under the skin burst.

Attempting to ignore the pain inside, she continued to creep along the darkness to the wizard's hut on the Foretian's land, pounding on his door with her fist. More blood vessels burst under her hand, and the elfwoman coughed, blood errupting from her mouth.

"Who goes there?" an ancient voice intoned, the door opening in time to recieve a fountain of red blood as Lia was racked once more with a coughing fit. "Who the hell are you?"

Instead of some smart assed reply as Lia generally held for such a question, her glassy eyes regarded him. "Help.... me..." she croaked, before falling face first on the floor. Her chest heaved again, and a puddle of blood began to form on the floor, the poison turing her insides to mush.

"I've seen these effects before..." the wizard mused, leaning down and sniffing the air around Lia. "Just as I suspected. Althsat." Leaving the elfwoman laying in his doorway, the wizard moved to his cauldron, which was sitting on a table. Chanting softly, several ingredients began to fly through the air towards him, dumping into the cauldron. "Foretschwain, moroden. Incantenum Finate!"

Blue light errupted from the table and began to form around the cauldron as the ingredients were mixed and heated to a roiling boil. Lia had managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, blood dribbling down her chin and front.

"Poison..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. The wizard nodded absently, dipping a ladle into the potion.

"One of my more effective ones, indeed." he commented. Bringing the ladle to Lia's lips, he watched as she drank, greedily. At once her breathing began to return to normal. "Drink again, please." the ladle filled up again, and she did as told, the liquid disappearing as her lips worked around the edge. "Good, good. Now, tell me my dear. How did you get here, and how did my most excellent poison end up in your system? Take your time. Your body needs to finish mending quite a bit. Then, as Foret wills, I will know your secrets."

[ConcordantNexus]

Leaning over the rail of his beloved xebec Askari, Hasker the Dardenite sighed wistfully. He was a portly middle-eastern merchant who'd originally made his fortune on the sealanes from Baalbek to Imhabia. Mind you he'd since lost the greater part of that fortune too...

It had been a couple of years since he had seen the metropolis of Imhabia. Imhabia was once renowned throughout the world as the Crown Jewel of Maxim.

:Lately her highness seemed to have lost some of the glamour,: thought Hasker as calculating eyes examined how many or rather how few merchantmen were berthed at the various piers and docks. :but the makes two of us,: continued his inner voice, and it was true given the hard times that Hasker had been through of late. Civil unrest and worse in his home city of Baalbek, increased piracy in the Nicobar islands, that unlucky affair where Ferret customs agents found contraband in his hold and perhaps worse of all, his tyrannical mother nagging him to marry before she passed through the veil (died). "Darden defend me against further misfortune! I've certainly had enough trouble to last me a lifetime!" muttered the anxious Baalbekian Dardenite.

"Full circle we come again, yes?" asked a dusky skinned Nicobaran as he joined the fat merchant at the rail.

"Yes Rajim, so it would seem. I hope that they haven't raised the cost of the Imhabian Mercantile Pass, we have don't have that much silver," replied Hasker.

"Ya mon, need to pay for supplies, the sails in particular need replacing."

"Tar to patch up the leaks in the hull..."

"We should hire sailors sir, rather short-staffed since that bout of dysentery hit us..."

The merchant and his mageling assitant considered and weighed plans and options as their ship moved into harbour, where she was met by a RONIN cutter and directed to a suitable pier...

[ConcordantNexus]

Several hours later the Askari was comfortably berthed and securely tied up to a pier. The meagre crew helped a squad of local stevedores unload the cargo under the watchful eyes of Hasker the Balbekian.

Meanwhile, Rajim, the dusky Nicobaran negotiated himself the escort of a pair of Harbour Command armsmen. Like in times before, they wore pale blue caps and a sombre dark blue uniform. Truncheons and cutlasses made up their visible armament. They accompanied him to the Offices of Harbour Command where he settled Askari 's docking fees and import duties and then paid out the equivalent of 1000 Imhabian silver shillings to purchase a new Imhabian Mercantile Pass.

:Times can't be so bad if they can still afford waterproof vellum and have it magicked to retard flame and foil forgery,: thought the Nicobaran. A minor mageling in his own right, he smiled approvingly at the spell-craftsmanship. Having finished his examination, he stowed the documents safely away in his beltpouch.

[lilmess20]

LAND HO!!
Rings through the night air. The once quite deck becomes a bustle of activity.

THROW OUT THE BOW LINE…YE OV’RN THERE TIGHTEN THAT RIGGIN…ALL MATES TO LAANNDD ME SHIP!

A grump old sea haggard captain yells to his crew.

The travels have consumed lilmess with weary bones. New lands, new friends, and a new life bring the strength to lift his cloak hidden face up to catch the seamen at work. Eyes once bright with the fuel of a new start now show the age of many months at sea. Lilmess weaves in and out of the organized dance of the deck hands readying the ship for a much-needed rest along side the docks of Imhabia. Leaning on the rail of the vessel the city illuminates with the intensity of a magic spell. Each building seems to have torches lit as if to send out the welcome to all who land in her harbor. Words just above a whisper flow from lilmess’ lips

Home alas

[lilmess20]

The seclusion of the inn room provides comfort for the lone figure sitting at the well-worn table provided for the tenants. A small goblet containing Elvish Wine swirls gently in the well-defined hands of the assassin. The fast gathering bubbles are the backdrop to flashes of the past. Memories of the life lived. Several chapters have been entered into the cranial slide show with the conclusion yet to be determined. A thin grin begins to form with the developing form of a lady from the foggy daydream. The beauty is quickly whisked away by the frequent faces of the unfortunate that have been branded with the bounty of the cruel profession. Death consumes and surrounds all of the dreams and thoughts of the one called lilmess. With a blur the goblet is hurled through the air with immeasurable force to meet the wall.

MY HANDS ARE STAINED WITH DEATH. MY THOUGHTS…ALLOW NOT…The love of my life to enter.

The newly formed fire in the eyes of lilmess disappear making way for the sorrow.

My companion…My friend…My love…I need you…

The weight of his head and eyelids give way to a deep dark sleep…

[ConcordantNexus]

In a rented warehouse of modest size, near the pier where the Askari was berthed glowed a pair of candles and to magesight, the faint sign of a simple ward against eavesdropping.

On a wooden crate sat two tall, fat candles, a bottle of port and two glasses, a platter of cheese and bread and a folder of papers. A slightly overweight middleeasterner sat on a stool opposite a Nicobaran with a half dozen gold hoop earrings in each ear.

Any sign that the authorities noticed an influx of goods on the pharmaceuticals market Rajim?

Mheh! In a city this large, a shipment like that gets swallowed up real fast. `Sides, they've got their hands full fighting an uneven war.

Perhaps we should consider what rulers might wish to purchase during wartime?

And the conversation turned to matters of military supply...

[ConcordantNexus]

Hasker and Rajim watched everything as the stevedores and their new complement of sailors loaded up the last batches of goods on their xebec the Askari.

"That's what I heard too...,"murmured the portly Baalbekian.

"Enough tongues be waggin same ting, must be sum truth ta the matter,"replied the smiling mageling.

"So all of them are leaving? How? When? Why?"

"Most of the RONIN are rumoured to be preparing to leave sir. dunno how. Dunno when. Dunno why, but it's sure gonna change the socio-political-economic map of Maxim."