The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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The Found Arcana – Chapter 5 [IC]
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“So what is your poison really?” she with a widening grin. The short woman asks, handing him a coin. She’ll accompany him in line, and get herself something to drink.“Name is Amy, I live in Touristville… Saw you guys in action some time ago.” she says with a nonjudgemental look.
AM intends to get the man to speak about his leader, and
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Is Bobby carrying around a fruit basket on a crowded dance floor the strangest part of this situation? Or is it the apple-eating intimidation?
The apple core hits someone, but the place is so crowded that they can’t figure out who threw it.
*****
“Hurlg,” the ork tells AM. And then, after a moment of reflection, “… unless you’re drinking with me.”
At the bar, the ork slaps the coin on the counter. “Fomorian Usquebaugh,” he says. “Plus whatever she’s having.”
A fancy bottle arrives. By the bottle design, it looks Irish Celtic.
“They say that in the Fourth World, they used to make hurlg from fermented rye mixed with animal fat.” He makes a face. “Glad they’re not doing that anymore. This one tastes more like whiskey.”
He looks over at AM’s delicate constitution. “Unless you have a stomach mod, I wouldn’t drink it if I were you.”
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I probably can’t drink that. AM orders a fruit-flavored beer with low alcohol content. I did not catch your name.
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4th world?” she says with a grin, “Did not think I’ll hear it mentioned. History lover?”
When her drink arrives clicks her bottle with his liqueur and says “cheers”
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Oh drek!
He hadn’t wanted attention and … she was looking at his emotions right now.
Jawsey let the hyper-focus of Psyche help him center his attention on the incredible astral shading of Urubia’s left wing, filling his mind with its complexity and emptying it of fear. At least emptying as much as he could.
Spoiler:He danced through the emotional waves until he was near her, automatically adjusting his movements to the actions of her wing. Only when that wing was almost filling his astral senses did he stop, bow, and do his best to astrally ask “Shall we dance?”
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The ork gives a sideways glance at AM, perhaps still disbelieving his drinking partner. “Chaz,” he says finally when asked his name. AM recalls that she overheard him say ‘never trust an elf’ after she targeted him with her spell.
“It’s important to know your history,” he says, sipping the Fomorian Usquebaugh. “It gives you identity. It teaches you who you are. It prevents you from becoming someone you’re not… or shouldn’t be.”
That last thought seems to linger in the air, and is obviously weighing on him.
*******
“DANCE WITH ME,” Jawsey hears in his head. He knows enough about magical theory to be familiar with dragonspeech as a specific form of telepathic communication, but it’s one thing to read about it and another thing entirely to experience it in person.
So Jawsey and Urubia dance astrally. Jawsey keeps his wits about him. Perhaps it’s little nudges from Urubia’s draconic will, or maybe her presence is just so massive that it’s hard to miss her body language, but Jawsey finds it very easy to dance with her. It’s fluid, with the the momentum passing back and forth as readily as two trained dancing partners. It’s intimidating but – dare he say it – fun? Or maybe it will be fun in hindsight after the adrenaline wears off.
The song ends and Urubia gives Jawsey and ever-so-slight bow.
“COME TO ME AFTER THIS SET,” she tells him.
On the dance floor, Bobby can tell that the Crimson Guard are getting agitated in the extreme about something.
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Bobby looked from the guard to Jawsey’s slightly drooling body. He was tempted to look into the astral himself, but he doubted that that would make his job easier. By now he really wanted to get out of here – too much noise, too many people and too many eaten apples…
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AM seems interested, she respects history – but it not that distant. I take it you are not so thrilled about working for a dragon along with all the other gangs in Redmond? I mean, I think about Redmond and I don’t think I’ll recognize it by tomorrow. “
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“I’m not worried about the dragon,” he says gruffly. “It’s some of the others.” AM remembers that she instructed him, “Stop the secret alliance with Nightmare and the Ancients.”
He seems about to say something else but then holds his tongue. He looks at AM sideways, his eyes narrowing. He still seems to doubt her intentions, or perhaps even her nature.
“Who are you with?” he finally asks. “You working tonight?”
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AM responds trying to sound harmless so that Chaz would confide in her “My only agenda is that I wanted some friendly face with the Crush as you seem to be the new power in Touristville. So it is nice to have someone to ask what is going on once the Brain Eaters are gone. I run a private detective agency in Tourville. A partnership really, I am their tech expert. I mainly hack the comlinks of cheating husbands to find digital proof of their infidelity. Not the most pleasant of works, but it pays the bills, and I owe quite a lot to the wrong kind of people.
I came here because I wanted to know what was going on, I had some intelligence about a deal with Urubia but then I saw the Ancients and it felt like things are way bigger than I anticipated. I mean these guys have branches all over the continent. Haloweeners are also a mystery to me, difficult for me to grasp how Urubia got them to play ball with this after what the Ancients did to them. “
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“Huh,” Chaz grunts. “I thought you were one of the working girls and that someone paid you to talk to me.”
His eyes drift over toward the bordello.
“A detective agency, huh?” He still looks suspicious/skeptical. “So it’s your job to learn secrets, amirite? That makes you the honey trap. A pretty face, a bottle of booze, and I just spill my guts. Is that how it’s supposed to go?” He shakes his head in frustration.
“I’ll tell you what. YOU find out what’s going on with the Ancients and I’ll pay YOU. All you elves know each other, right? Use your elven wiles on someone else. I’ll pay you – creds or coin – if you find out before I’m blackout drunk.”
He takes another drink of hurlg.
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AM chuckles ”A working girl…?” struggling to keep her beer in. She only had one lover her entire life, and would probably not even know what to do with an orc twice her size if she wanted to. Yes, I learn secrets for a living.
However, she is more comfortable when Chaz mentions money, and she leans in when he mentions business “What’s it worth to you to know why the Ancients are here? she says like a tradeswoman, indicating that it is not her first transaction tonight.
She pauses, and then adds I have 13 coins already, so money or favors are preferable. as I seem to make more coins than I spend.“ She figures it is worth a shot to try and get some extra cash, especially when she already knows why they are there.
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Chaz plays with his stack of coins. AM thinks she counts ten of them, which means that he’s been agitated enough to not spend any, despite the obvious delights of the Fun House.
“Alright,” he says. “Creds instead of coin. I’ll pay you a thousand nuyen if you tell me what the Ancients are doing here. I want to know who invited them, who they’re talking to, and why. They haven’t been part of discussions up to this point.
“Better hurry. This tastes good and I’m going to drink it fast. If you want to get paid, you’ll have to remember before I get so drekfaced that I can’t remember this conversation.”
He takes a big swig of his hurlg.
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Jawsey returns to his body, and messages the team. He’s happy that ARO’s don’t contain tone unless you add it deliberately, so he just sends the facts <<floor and ceiling are not warded or anything, so there may be a chance to go scouting OK. However I propose holding off on exploring of private areas, because Urubia wants me to come to her after this set. Seems I stood out astrally more than I’d thought I would.>>
<<I assume she will be able, at least, to read a guilty conscience, so I think I should focus on coloring inside the lines until then. After that, well, maybe I explore, maybe I’m under Urubia’s thrall and not making my own decisions, who knows. You’ll both have to decide how much to trust me afterwards.>>
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AM says calmly “You can keep drinking, as I already know the things you ask me. As I said, I was curious m about it myself and thought the information would be valuable. I tell you what, I can tell you for 500 if you explain why they worry you so much.”
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The set ends. The audience cheers and applauds. A few stragglers remain on Urubia. She sets the Awakened ones down gently. There’s a mundane who is clearly blitzed on something, riding her tail like a bucking bronco. She switches back into human form suddenly, leaving him in midair. He faceplants on the reinforced concrete floor and knocks himself out. A couple Crimson Guard swoop in and drag him off, leaving a thin trail of blood from his (likely broken) nose.
Urubia’s naked but when you’re a different species you don’t really care about such things. Plus, she’s gorgeous, and that just adds to the sexual tension that permeates the Fun House. She walks confidently toward a side door, which one Crimson Guard opens for her while another puts a silk robe over her back. The door closes and the Guard stand beside it.
********
Chaz gives AM a wary look, likely wondering if he’s been suckered. But, at the same time, he probably wants to save five hundred nuyen.
“Alright, I’ll tell you. Redmond’s not their turf, that’s why. Oh, I know, they’ll claim ‘the whole plex is our turf’ but they don’t run in Redmond. So if this is a Redmond deal, why are they here?
“Look at history. The Salish invited the elves onto their lands and what happened? The elves took Oregon. And you elves don’t die of old age. You just multiply and grow and expand until take over everything.”
He’s getting agitated. He’s gripping his bottle pretty hard, to the point where AM is worried that it could shatter in her face.
He looses his grip. Letting out a short, stiff sigh, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a credstick. He slaps it on the bar in front of AM, his palm covering it until she tells him her side of the story.
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Bobby replied while Jawsey was available to hear him: “Whatever you do, don’t make a deal with a fragging dragon.”
He used the opportunity to oggle said dragon while he could but left it at that.
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AM retains her cool, and try to calm the big orc. “Elves have long lives as you cleverly mentioned when you plan to live for a long time you tend to think about the future. You say that the deal is a Redmond deal right? I respect your perspective, but to understand the elves you need to try and think like an elf. They are not worried about this year, or even about the next year. They play the long game and think even for decades ahead. “
She pauses and then says “Now imagine you are an elf for a moment, you learn about a very ambitious dragon which is capable enough of making peace between all the gangs in Redmond. Even the Haloweeners which they nearly wiped up in the past, they see that the wheel is turning, and they do not like the change. They feel that Urubia will expand beyond Redmond at their expense. With the Haloweeners on board, they feel that revenge motivates Nightmare more than profits. It adds to the danger. Now, what do they want…? I asked them myself, they look to join the alliance. Right now, when Urubia’s influence is still local, they have a lot to offer. It will be difficult for Urubia to refuse if you ask me. “
“So we know why they are here, now who invited them. How do they know all these details? This one I had to extract from another gang. Don’t expect the Ancients to tell me their secrets. I probed Widow in that direction, and she did not deny talking to the Ancients. Now, when I thought about it it made sense. You know, Ancients are sort of global, and they are active in many places and some of these may have bug-problems. Perhaps not now, or next year but eventually. So keeping good relations with the bug-experts makes sense for the Ancients. So the Spyders invited them here.”
She raises her drink and takes a long sip, waiting for Chaz to pay up.
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Jawsey nodded to Bobby “I won’t do so willingly. But fragging dragons. I have no idea what is going to happen. “
And then the set was done, and he had to either go see Urubia , or flee. But he didn’t know how far he’d have to flee to get out from between two dragons.
Much of the crowd was trying to get to the stairs now that the set was done, so for a bit Jawsey felt like the old stories about that fish, salmon was the name, that fought their way up the rivers of Tsimshian, forcing their way against the current. Back before the rivers were ravaged and the salmon died out.
If they ever managed to restore the rivers of his homeland, were there enough salmon somewhere to start a new population? Maybe the sea dragon would know?
He realized that he was going down a psyche-hole, but as he approached the door he couldn’t get salmon out of his mind. They said that before the Europeans made it this far, his ancestors used to to make bottles out of carefully sewn salmon skin, fill them with salmon oil, and trade them south. Had any of the oil made it to what was now Redmond?
He approached the door and informed the Crimson Guard at the door “Urubia asked me to come see her after the set. I don’t know what it is about, but I figured we should all do as she asks, right?” After a moment he also asked “I don’t suppose either of you know if salmon still spawn in some rivers in the Salish-Sidhe?”
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Chaz leans towards AM. She can smell the hurlg on her breath. Even the fumes are enough to make her dizzy.
“Urubia. Hates. Elves.” He lets it sink in, his malice hanging in the air. “There’s no way that she’d let the Ancients to the table, not after what the elves did to her in the Tir.”
AM has the feeling that Chaz is pretty pissed at her bulldrek story.
“But the Ancients were formed by political exiles from the Tir!” he remembers, snapping his fingers. He lifts his hand off the credstick to point a finger in the air at this realization. “So maybe it’s not elves that she distrusts so much as the Tir…”
He drifts off in his thoughts. His fingertips are in his mouth and for a moment AM wonders if he’s biting his nails.
“But the Ancients and First Nations…” he mutters under his breath, trailing off.
He stands and leaves suddenly without another word, leaving behind both the credstick as well as what’s left of his bottle of fancy hurlg.
AM slots the credstick and finds the sum they agreed on.
*****
Jawsey approaches the door. The two guards are big brutes. A quick glance at the astral confirms that they’re competent adepts. One of them is staring back at him on the astral, and doesn’t look amused. In fact, they’re both staring daggers at Jawsey, their auras thick with unconcealed jealousy.
“No way,” one says, blocking the door.
“Frag off,” the other says more directly.
Jawsey explains that Urubia asked for him.
“If you’re lying to me…” one of them growls.
Jawsey sees the Adam’s apple of the other bob up and down ever-so-slightly, suggesting some subvocal communication. His face twists into a sneer before finally stepping aside.
“Okay, drekhead, you can go in. But mind your manners. Ask Urubia about the salmon; she owns half the Olympic Peninsula.”
Jawsey passes through the door, which closes with a heavy THUD behind him. It might be ominous, except that things on the other side are actually very tranquil. The noise of the music and the party dies away and all of a sudden his ears stop ringing.
He sees a staircase leading up. There’s not any other direction to go, so he takes it. He finds himself in a colossal room at least three stories high. It’s clear that it’s Urubia’s personal space and that she can be in her draconic form here without feeling claustrophobic, if dragons ever feel such silly things.
He finds Urubia sitting next to a wide window on a luxurious divan, a long and low sofa with no back or arms. The divan is covered in crimson silk with a gold pattern that looks Persian. She sits on it, still in her loose silk robe, looking out the window to the world below. Without turning around – and without a word – she pats the space on the divan next to her, inviting Jawsey to sit down and enjoy the view.
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Now, without anyone to watch over, Bobby felt lost again. He still had one coin to burn. But not on apples. His stomach roiled at the thought. Too much acid and too much pectin for his human stomach. The urge to turn into a bear with his much more robust digestion was immense.
No, what he really wanted was to find a place to go all out. A place like this had to had an arena where violence was not only allowed but encouraged.
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