username: lady of the willow tree | audio
( She is heat and storm and hissing anger: ) You fools. And me, fool, listening to the master, helping! ‘Who could have known, Karsa, who could have known?’ I could have known, you could have known, any woman with sense could have known! Men? Men know nothing. You steal from a merchant, what does he do, eh? What does he do?
( A pause, as if she nearly expects an answer — before continuing, impatiently: )
He makes more coin. Do you know whose gold you took? Whose gems you took? Who made a large deposit at La Rea just when you all broke in? Do you know? Do you know who? Torsten. Congraaaatuuulaaaaations. The high merchant. The Torsten who won the auctions, the Torsten who inked a grand salt supply contract he needs that money to pay for. The Torsten who is bringing the great-bellied best, that ship Imperious in a few days. To make up for it.
( But she’s quieting, at least. ) And on it, he brings something powerful. We hear… the master hears. A commission. Because when merchants lose money, pah! They turn into smugglers. They say Unhalad’s brothers hired Torsten to bring in... help for him. Everyone heard about the bodies on the pillars two weeks ago. Unhalad’s own people picked out and killed, no, they can’t have that. No one… no one in the east sent help to Sa-Hareth when the dead took us over, but the dead, eh? The dead help each other. Funny, no? The world. And funny, you. What are you doing? Wasting time, with tales since grandmother was too young to even open her legs. ‘Arne the Red,’ who cares? How can a man survive three days and three nights in the tundra cold? He doesn’t. But you waste time on that, instead of —
( Bitterness and bile and she pieces herself together again. )
There is one matter of gladness. Unhalad’s allies sent him... some sustenance, as well as his weapon. More like you. Hopefully better than you, ah? Not fools? A handful of captives. Every man and woman and child deserves freedom. We will cut them loose. And tell Haltham, if you see him, there is work beyond sniffing the salt.
( Determined, then: ) Now. My people, we infiltrate. And we brave the instrument. But we are few. Eight? And... maybe exercise will do you well, ah? Keeps you from other foul business? Help free your fellows from the Imperious. We go together to the ship, but we each do our part. And we succeed.
I have more of the quartz for speaking, when you free them. Ten pieces? I will send them. Like I sent you quartz to... visit La Rea. And you made gain. So now I ask my cut: some 7,000 coins would provide us enough supply to make a few men friends, to procure some sailor garb… while, alternatively, 13,000 pieces would get us... a more substantial distraction. Who is coming? And how much gold can you give?
( ooc: This is a precursor to the ship rescue test drive & game event that our resident Sith Lord player proposed. Full event details will go up on 27 April! )
( A pause, as if she nearly expects an answer — before continuing, impatiently: )
He makes more coin. Do you know whose gold you took? Whose gems you took? Who made a large deposit at La Rea just when you all broke in? Do you know? Do you know who? Torsten. Congraaaatuuulaaaaations. The high merchant. The Torsten who won the auctions, the Torsten who inked a grand salt supply contract he needs that money to pay for. The Torsten who is bringing the great-bellied best, that ship Imperious in a few days. To make up for it.
( But she’s quieting, at least. ) And on it, he brings something powerful. We hear… the master hears. A commission. Because when merchants lose money, pah! They turn into smugglers. They say Unhalad’s brothers hired Torsten to bring in... help for him. Everyone heard about the bodies on the pillars two weeks ago. Unhalad’s own people picked out and killed, no, they can’t have that. No one… no one in the east sent help to Sa-Hareth when the dead took us over, but the dead, eh? The dead help each other. Funny, no? The world. And funny, you. What are you doing? Wasting time, with tales since grandmother was too young to even open her legs. ‘Arne the Red,’ who cares? How can a man survive three days and three nights in the tundra cold? He doesn’t. But you waste time on that, instead of —
( Bitterness and bile and she pieces herself together again. )
There is one matter of gladness. Unhalad’s allies sent him... some sustenance, as well as his weapon. More like you. Hopefully better than you, ah? Not fools? A handful of captives. Every man and woman and child deserves freedom. We will cut them loose. And tell Haltham, if you see him, there is work beyond sniffing the salt.
( Determined, then: ) Now. My people, we infiltrate. And we brave the instrument. But we are few. Eight? And... maybe exercise will do you well, ah? Keeps you from other foul business? Help free your fellows from the Imperious. We go together to the ship, but we each do our part. And we succeed.
I have more of the quartz for speaking, when you free them. Ten pieces? I will send them. Like I sent you quartz to... visit La Rea. And you made gain. So now I ask my cut: some 7,000 coins would provide us enough supply to make a few men friends, to procure some sailor garb… while, alternatively, 13,000 pieces would get us... a more substantial distraction. Who is coming? And how much gold can you give?
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Regardless, if we can evacuate all those on board who don't deserve death by icy waters, it would be... pleasant to put a few extra holes in that miserable pile of driftwood. Sa-Hareth needs only one Imperius.
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The ship, do what you want with it, after. I have no care.
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I certainly shall. Grab what goods you might find useful off it then, if any, because conditions willing it's going to the bottom.
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She can always be renamed.
Is there a bay near here deep enough to act as a harbour?
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On the other hand. Vengeance is sweet.
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That doesn't mean there is never room for a little extra.
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[ Yeah, he's using the Prince voice now. Sorry Archeval. ]
As Karsa showed, we cannot guess the full extent of the consequences of our actions. Our best chance at survival - at the retaining of life and limb - is to manage this operation with little evidence any of us were there at all.
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The captives are coming off, and one way or another, something is happening to that accursed ship. I will not simply leave it be.
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[ It is, he's just Like This, sorry Archeval. ]
Then we find a way to sink it that could have happened even if we never stepped foot on it.
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[ his voice turns to a deep, wry drawl ]
Personally I was thinking along the lines of a small natural disaster.
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A small natural disaster?
[ He sounds genuinely curious, though, that usual slight coldness that he speaks to Archeval with seemingly - for the moment - forgotten. ]
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You sink her, or you let her go.
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But letting her go - if she takes word of our exploits, that may cause far deeper problems in the long run, not simply for us, but for your people as well.
Unless you believe there is a way to free her cargo and yet still look like the fault lay within the ship itself and not from outside incursion.
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Thank you for your work.
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Regardless, your instruction is noted. Hm, it's been some time since I shoved anything that big. Let me see, this will require some creativity... [ thoughtful hum ]
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I don't put much stock in any of that, and however things are in Sa-Hareth, I suspect neither do you.
I'll figure it out. Figuring things out in the field is what they pay me for.
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Perhaps the translation on these devices is not as robust as I'd hoped. Yes. Paying you is the idea.
What resources I have are yours.
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Truly breathtaking.