Thread: A Tale Of Tails And Trades (Starring TaintedRose and Erit of Eastcris)

The summer sun hammered down relentlessly on the undeserving dirt track of a road that lead through Nis, a small farming town barely of a size to hold the title found slightly to the west of East Jesus Nowhere, better known as clinging to the border of the Crown's authority. Beyond that authority lay land little-explored but greatly feared, for few who delved without a fully armed expedition force ever returned alive and in a timely fashion, and those that did told stories that could make veteran soldiers hide under their beds at times. Of course, out of those excursions also came considerable wealth in the form of rare and exotic herbs and seeds, as well as creatures previously known only from fairy tales, if at all. A most profitable business had sprung up around these nekos, as they came to be known, domesticated, bread and trained as adorable pets and companions for those with money to spare or friends in high places. They were cute in appearance and mannerism, bearing a feline's ears, tails, fangs, and sometimes other traits, as well as having a kittenish enthusiasm and curiosity. But they were also smart, able to speak as well as any normal human, read and write with the proper education. It was in that dauntless midsummer heat that the owner of one such neko, a merchant named Alistair Creed, stood with his normally tight-laced shirt hanging loose and his coat unbuttoned as he haggled relentlessly with an old business associate named Martial. Ten silver marks a barrel would be more than this entire town sees in a year, the trader said, his voice a slightly gravelly baritone that tended to drop to a rocky growl when he was trying to intimidate someone, and more than I can pay, and you know it. Five each, Martial. Alistair tugged at the collar of his unstained cotton shirt with a slim, dextrous hand and sighed. A problem with your most reliable reliable partner also being a good friend is that the liked to mix business with private affairs when it might net them a bit more money. At least, in Alistair's experience. That's more than twice already what I'd give anyone else, and it's as high as I'll go. The other man sighed, shaking his head and throwing up his hands. Fine, fine. Five a barrel it is. No need to be so serious with me, Alistair. The farmer's slightly pudgy face cracked into a familiar smile as his large and calloused hand extended out to seal the bargain. Alistair's own, equally as large but more wiry, shook it, and the merchant counted out the coins to pay for the liquor he'd just bought. Nis was a town with few visitors and no geographical significance, but everyone knew about it because their exported alcohol was just that damn good. The four barrels Alistair now possessed would easily earn him back much more than what he'd paid. If you were a sane man, Martial, the merchant grumbled, you would understand why I would be in an unjovial temper with this heat. It's hot as the hinges of Hell out here. The two talked for a while more while they oversaw Alistair's cart being loaded with his goods the liquor as well as sacks of grains and bolts of cloth all tightly packed and arranged. Once that was done, they parted and Alistair made his way to the small inn, really a large house, where he had arranged his lodgings. He barely got through the door without ducking, being a good head and a half taller than the average man and broader in the shoulders than most, but lacking the apparent brawn to make him seem truly massive. The dark-haired man with hard, iron-gray eyes was wiry, however, with a lithe strength hinted at by his lean, toned appearance hidden beneath his clothes. A few years as a soldier in the expeditions had that kind of effect on the body. He sat down in the small chair by the window of his room and watched as the burning sun slowly began to dip behind the great white-capped mountains he'd once helped explore and plunder, waiting for his collared cat to return. He'd let her run around the last few hours of the day, with a few silver pennies to occupy herself with, and the instruction to be in their room by dusk, while he dealt with the boring business Alistair was a stern owner, to be sure, but caring. If she came back before dark, that was else he'd have to track her down and make her regret disobeying.