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Log: A Salting Saffron

Page history last edited by wastevens@... 15 years, 6 months ago

PCs: Saffron Horizon, Masq Timor

 

-Saffron Horizon-

Son of a Saffron Horizon is a tall, lithe young man of slightly disarming beauty. Long blond hair that looks to be tinged blue when the light hits it reaches down to the small of his back, though he usually keeps it contained in a pony-tail, along with staying fastidiously clean-shaven. His eyes are a very dark blue except for a sliver of green around the edge of the iris. In general he is best described as 'long and slender' though as his bare-armed robes show, it's not for lack of trying.

He wears a saffron robe, and very much enjoys his contrast with traditional immaculates. He always carries the spear of his order, either openly or concealed as a walking cane. Horizon almost always carries a smile and a comforting word for those in need, though be prepared for a fight when the mood to drink and whore gets in him, he sometimes finds himself incredibly reluctant to stop.

 

-Masq Timor-

Before you stands a man of middling years, his eyes bright and blue and clear. He stands very straight, a little shorter than average, with the beginnings of a well-fed paunch obvious through his cloths. A network of crows' feet and worrylines spread across his thin face, his thin lips pulled into a thin frown. His dark hair is pulled back pony tail, and greying at the temples. His full beard is still more pepper than salt, hiding his chin and upper neck.

He is dressed is very fine clothing, cut from dark silks and rich white furs. He wears a tight silver chain, and a pair of gold rings, one encrusted with small rubies, the other set with a large diamond. The cut and worksmanship are both exceptional, and exude a quiet aura of wealth and power around him.

 

---

 

Here in the Bastion District, the people are rich, the shopping is fine, and the office of Masq Timor can be found. Relatively unassuming, paneled in rare white woods from the depths of the Northeastern forest, it smells fresh and feels cool, even in the midst of the stink of Nexus that pervades even here.

The first floor is filled with scribes at desks, dealing with clients of various social strata. A few armed men, spears held casually, joke with one another. A darkhaired woman briskly moves between the desks, looking over shoulders without making comment, making the scribes sweat a little more.

It is to here that people come with problems. Material problems, or problems that powerful friends can sometimes see to getting fixed. Problems that otherwise seems somewhat intractable.

 

    Saffron Horizon feels somewhat strange coming back to Nexus, his last visit here ended with him wandering off into the Wyld. Adjusting the pack dangling from one shoulder, with the hand not occupied with manageing his spear, he stops outside of the building he hopes belongs to the man he has come here to meet. Safffron is somewhat agitated at having to leave The Silent Peaks at a time when so many need help, but he hopes that this meeting will bring some much needed aid to the region. Taking a deep breath, he moves throught the doorway into the busy ground floor.

 

A dark haired, pretty and well dressed woman smiles at Saffron as he comes in. "Well to Timor's; how can we help you today?" Her voice is high and clear, as she leads him towards a desk.

 

    Saffron bows to the pretty young woman, smiling at her. "My name is Saffron Horizon, I was asked to come here to visit. I wasn't told much else."

 

The dark haired woman nods and smiles. "Ah, from the Silent Peaks, yes?" She nods slightly. "Mr. Timor has been interested in meeting you. Please, take a seat and-" She stops mid-setenance, a creature of nearly incadesent beauty walks down the stairs. Another woman, dressed in a fancy of silk and gauze, walks imperiously down teh steps- certainly, one of the Fair Folk. The eyes of the room are drawn to her, and all the writing stops for a moment.

"Ah, that was his previous appointment. Your timing is most fortutious, Saffron. Please, this way." The dark haired woman says, walking towards the stairs.

 

    Saffron stares at the woman as she descends the staircase. His eyes go in and out of focus for a moment, and his hand tightens around the haft of spear. He follows the pretty secretary up the stairs, however, though his eyes never leave the Raksha. Speaking to the secretary, he asks "Does your master often have dealings with the Raksha?"

 

Several of the scribes break from their reverie, making various warding signs at the 'R' word and giving Saffron a dark look. The dark haired woman hmms, half turning, before shaking her head slightly. "Oh, no. Not often. However, when an envoy of the Opal Court comes to speak to a high ranking Guild member..." She trails off, and gives a kind of helpless half-shrug, and an almost embarassed smile, leading you up the stiars. The imperious looking woman continues out the door, and back into the streets of Nexus.

 

    Saffron watches the woman exit's Timors, oblivious to the stares of the scribes. "I... see," he responds, a note of dissapointment in his voice, but for the lack of contact, or for the contact at all is unknown. Pulling his attention away from the departing woman, and continues up the stairs after the secretary.

 

Masq Timor sits at a large desk built of dark woods in his office. A huge, hulking bald man stands at attention near him, armored in a simple breastplate, his eyes showing as little animation as a corpse's. Masq smiles broadly as you come in. "Ah, you must be the Saffron Horizon I heard about! Please, come in. Can I offer you any refreshment? Food, drink? There's some fresh baked river fish, if you'd like. Especially good with this white wine I picked up recently." He smiles toothily at Saffron.

 

    Saffron bows to Timor, though he slips a wink at the secretary before turning his attention to Masq. "Thank you but no, aside from a few weaknesses I prefer to abstain from such decadence as much as I am able." Scratching his chin, he reconsiders "Though perhaps a glass of wine would be nice."

 

Masq Timor shakes his head slightly, before waving vaugely at the dark haired woman, who vanishes down the steps. "Honestly, you monks... But that's neither here nor there." He smiles, less toothily and more friendly-like. He gestures towards one of the plush chairs across from his desk. "Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable." Then, after a moment, he adds, "So, I'm given to understand you're trying to offer the good folks of Silent Peaks some manner of help, hm?"

 

    Saffron chuckles, "I am no immaculate, Master Timor, I obstain for reasons of my own," and steps forward to take a seat in the chairs that Masq indicated. Replying to Timor's question, Saffron nods, "I have reasons of my own for being in Silent Peaks, though I do try to offer my services when I am able."

Masq Timor nods briefly, bobbing his head, bird-like. The dark haired woman returns shortly, bearing a chilled bottle of pale wine and a pair of glasses, pouring some of the sweet liquid for each, then vanishing as swiftly as she came. "Well, reasons of your own. Something personal and private, I shouldn't wonder." He shakes his head slightly. "But still. What kind of assistance do you offer the good folks of the Silent Peaks?"

 

    "I practice Golden Janissary. I provide help and protection for those I am able. Though I have occasionally find things far beyond my own abilities, I am not alone." Saffron frowns, and leans over in his chair, "The people there are terrified. Dark rituals at night leave corpses with the hearts torn from their chests, servants of darker beings stalk the lands. It is a dark time for the people there."

 

Masq Timor ahs, and nods. "Bad times. I've been hearing a little bit about it; bad for business to. Hard to convince a merchant to head up to the mountains when they've got to double their guards and the people are poor and scared." He shakes his head slightly, almost sadly, before reaching into his desk and pulling out a small leather pouch. "Course, funny thing. Most of those things don't care much for salt," he says, tossing the pouch towards Saffron.

 

    Saffron catches the pouch, dipping a finger in and touching it to his tongue before closing the pouch tightly. "We draw lines where we are able, but it is hard to salt entire villages. A Reliable supply to the area would be of great value, though the manpower would be as much an issue. Are you offering sort of deal?"

 

Masq Timor nods slightly, pulling out some papers. "In a manner of speaking. I trust that you could arrange the manpower, if you had something resembling a reasonable supply of salt?" He gives another toothy grin. "Not that I couldn't supply labor, too, but that'll add to the cost. Which may be... considerable." He looks at the papers, flipping through them as if double checking, then slides them towards Saffron. They tally costs for procuring and transporting salt- an expense considerably outside the normal bounds of the villages. Several talents of silver, more than a full harvest would be worth.

 

    Saffron frowns at the paper, trying to estimate how much he could scrape from Silent Peaks without going to his friends... he is confidant they could cover it, but he is loath to commit them, though he doubts the people who would truely benifit from these shipments would take years to pay off this sort of money. Working his lips, Saffron asks "What would be interest on this? How long would I have to arrange payment?"

 

Masq Timor reclaims the papers, tucking them away. "Oh, a fair bit. However, I'll be honest; it's probablly not /strictly/ profitable, even at these prices. Hard to sustain a losing enterprise, and any shipment, no matter how large, will eventually be used up. I mean, one good rainstorm..." He lets the thought trail off. "There's a reason most merchants wouldn't bother with such. However," He leans back in his chair, obviously self-satisfied, and takes a sip of the wine. "I am not most merchants. So. Let us assume, for the moment, that money is a problem. Maybe we could work out some other kind of deal?"

 

    "I don't know Mastor Timor, I may know someone who could come up with the money." Saffron frowns, hesitating, "I believe they would pay, but I am loath to commit them to this. My own talents tend more towards martial persuits," he smiles, thinking back to the years leading up to leaving the monestary, "though I could get just about any woman in this building out of their cloths inside of ten minutes." Shaking his head, he says "Though either talent is unlikely to pay off something of this magnitude."

 

Masq Timor hmms, smiling to himself. "You might be suprised, on that count. Still." He drums his fingers for a moment, as if doing some calculations. "Let us say, two talents of silver-" about a third the original request, a consideribly easier cost "- for the load, and two favors from you- one martial and one extra-marital, as it were." He smiles at the joke. "A good shipment of salt should help ease some of your burden, and the burden of some of your farmer-friends as well." He arches an eyebrow. "Does that seem fair to you?"

 

    Working his lips again, Saffron nods, "I think that could be arranged. I believe I might be able to get that out of what I have saved." Saffron smiles, "You could say I live very frugally." He sits back in the chair, and sips some of the wine brought out earlier. He considers the taste for a moment, "I don't suppose I would know the nature of the favors, or the time?"

 

Masq Timor shakes his head slightly. "Nope. Sorry. If I knew what I wanted to ask, I'd ask it now, so we could get any tedious questions out of the way." He shrugs. "Most likely, I'll just ask you to help guard a caravan traveling through some unusually dangerous lands. Guards are good, but you martial arts types can be something else." He pro-offers a hand. "Sound like a deal?"

 

    Saffron nods, "I understand," and takes one more sip of the wine, and leans forward to take Timor's hand firmly. "It's a deal. I'll get the money to you, and from the way you found me this time I think you'll be able to do it again when you want to call in the favors."

 

Masq Timor grins broadly, giving a firm shake in return. "The salt will be on it's way in a few days. If you're willing to wait, you can ride back in one of the wagons." He grins in return. "Pleasure doing business with you."

 

    "I think I will, ride back with the Caravan that is. " Saffron rises to his feet, and bows once again to Timor. More formally now, "The people of Silent Peaks will thank you for this. As do I."

Comments (1)

Richard Hughes said

at 2:35 pm on Sep 11, 2008

Intrigued. Read in full by moi.

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