Incline 34: Ivahstar

Pulling us up into the black market, Heiya throws herself out the door. I look on over and watch as she skips along the road, dancing her way off of it. A huff escapes me and I park everything up. If this were a shady street, I would sabotage the lorry. Thankfully, black markets have more class than such places. 

I slam the door behind me and pocket the keys, knocking my daughter along. Going up along the lorry's side, I glance at the hole in the tarp. Hrurim's mutterings and complaints reach me without issue and I open the rear up for him. He comes on wheeling out, our valuable produced laying comfortably in its cage. The little lift takes its time and Hrurim grows impatient.

"Careful!" I bark, reeling from the thunderous bang of the trailer coming off the lift.

"He deserves it!" Hrurim snaps back and I shake my head. As if Nin can do anything to him in that cage. Not a wisp of magic in him, too. Nin won't do anything this day other than get sold for a high price. Our ticket to getting close to Gamtambo.

"Enough. Let's get going." I urge my daughter and friend so we can get this over with. Business hours aren't far off and we can get started gathering prices. It's a good chance as well to get familiar with the layout of the market square. Black markets may not be known for their orderly establishment, but it helps to congregate with similar products.

"Gods and goddesses, let some fat old hegge buy this bug already." Heiya complains as her musket jostles over her shoulder. I raise a hand and spread my paw over her shoulder, giving her a firm shake about. She looks my way and groans, her eyes on their rolling way out.

"Stay with Hrurim. If you're not with me." I tell her and she goes quiet, her teeth covering her bottom lip. It flicks out and she nods.

"Got it." she says, her voice surprisingly reluctant. I glance back at my human friend and sense nothing wrong. Gut and mind are calm. I guess she was serious about us having a shopping trip together...?

Hm.

"We will still have that look around together, Princess." I whisper to her, to see if that's actually the case. A smile comes to her lips, and it grows, spreading to me. A mixture of pride as a father and the simple joy that I got it right.

"This one of those places we need to register at?" Hrurim asks as we start to get into the market proper. I bring the group to a halt and look around with a frown as many other merchants set themselves up. Illegal produce, drugs, weapons and untaxed goods. Animals and slaves are... There.

"No. Better we don't attract spies if there are any here. Besides, who's going to enforce rules at a place like this?" I say, almost scoffing my rhetorical question as Hrurim huffs a smirk.

"I'll have a look around for a proper stage or something. Nin here isn't some run-of-the-mill animal." Hrurim explains and I nod, though I find one of my paws moving about. Will we need to pay a fee of any kind for such a luxury? Guess I'll have to ask around and work it out.

"Guess I'll tag along." Heiya lets out, her mood a teetering edge of nonsense if things don't go her way. I give her a reassuring nudge on the arm and she waves as she departs. I keep my eyes locked on Nin as he quirks up with curiosity. Good. Activity from him will encourage people he's the real deal.

My eyes shift, catching the glances of a handful of gun runners. One of their sales assistants running out to get a more proper view. She twists around, shaking her scantily clad backend at the caged bug. A grim snort shoots out of me. She's certainly welcome to try that in a real osibindah hive.

Now... Business.

"I'm going to want to be heading this way." I tell myself, heading off with my rattling gear in tow. A stranger's eyes lock with mine and he backs off as my glare grows. It's hard to say who I should be worried about here. There really is too little that I know.

Could be years back when I was still in the general rhythm of what I once was. I still would be on guard with no idea as to who is a problem and who isn't. Too much at once, too many motivations and prices. What may look like someone's snitch could well be a snitch for many I am against or none of them at all.

People don't know my face, though. I made a well enough effort to keep it out of government and police records. Surface and under it. Part of my time with Suhurlodst as well was false records. The fame means nothing to me, just the pay and respect for the deal.

A noise rumbles through me and I slip some of my equipment into a hidden view. If they don't know my face, they may know my familiar calling cards with equipment. I'm hardly the only one, but Gamtambo knew what he was doing with those blood wasp purges of his. My suppliers dried up because of him going after the Waspkeepers.

The only permanent looking building here comes into view and I focus the path to it. Any obnoxious merchant gets a shove and anything like that with an invasive personality gets a punch. The market guards keep their distance, fingers on the triggers at all times. Fights are common, they're only here to stop weapons firing.

"Halt." one such enforcer orders, his tattooed arm coming up. I meet his eyes, barely looking over at that missing finger of his.

"Here to speak to the manager." I explain, letting one of the other guards pat me around.

"Mm. In you go." he admits, standing aside with a whistle for all my gear.

"I know right? Not even sure why he'd be here." another guard lets out, his attention no doubt attracted to all of the gun runners present. I go through the building's door, throwing myself into the stock market-like noise and mayhem. People throw of all races throw themselves around over and under each other. Kelbalids gallop inconsiderately and humans tower above. Aelenvari partners cling to their men and hordes of hwardgon make it a mess to get through.

My jaw clenches tight and I force my way through, parting this sea of bodies with tiring effort. I break on through to the main office and a pleasantly dressed woman greets me. Her expression doesn't crack from its flat monotone and I glance around. She silently passes over some tabletwork.

"Thank you." I tell her, taking what I need and I get to it. The main office door slams open and I glance up, my brow cocking. I set the tabletwork down and grab the man before he can close it again. Not a word comes out of him, as if this is usual. He throws himself out of my grip, flattening his suit down, and a businessman's smile comes out.

"How can I help?" he asks and I wave him towards the window. Thanks to the early business day right now, it's not hard to find my group.

"Got a one of a kind item for sale." I say, and he huffs, scratching a hand through his greased up quills. He shrugs, that lightly make-up'd fur shining under the simple office light.

"Lots of people do." he dismisses, that toothy smile remaining.

"An osibindah with a mortal soul." I clarify and his expression flatlines to a confused comatose.

"A w-what?" he asks.

"Osibindah. Human eyes. Mortal soul." I reiterate, adding on a bit more detail.

"I see," he goes, his paws fiddling around all the files and drawers he has in this office. I fiddle with one of the toys he has on his desk and he forces it to a stop. Our eyes meet again and he comes back with what seems to be an inventory list.

"Naturally, we'll inspect the goods to make sure you're right about it. Otherwise you're heading off to the regular slave section with a fine," he explains, his way of speech almost as insufferable as any other lawyer. I scoff and shake my head.

"A fine for my sharpest quill." I mutter, the bureaucratic threat sounding so out of place here. How in All-That-Remains will you ever enforce a fine here? I don't exactly stand out physically. And he's got no on-demand artist here to draw me out. But you don't last in places like this without a good memory. So, maybe this man will surprise me.

"A warning, however." he lets out as he sets some stuff back into their slots and homes.

"Hm?" I go, maintaining eye contact with the unbothered businessman.

"No one was exactly expecting what you're suggesting. You might be here a while," he indeed warns. I nod.

"I'm not interested in staking out the highest price." I say, keeping my answer brief so as to not let out too much information. He nods and gestures for the door. I head on out, not even bothering to go back through the tabletwork. It's all nonsense, anyhow. 

I find myself back at the edge of the hustle and bustle and I linger around to the edge. A frown takes me over and I lean up against the wall. Black market guards are certainly sloppy. All these representatives and possible higher ups. All of them ripe for assassination and slaughter.

I guess the idea isn't to stop them dying, it's to stop me getting out with the money. Still, the amount of times I've cleaned up buildings such as these on behalf of Gamtambo and others... It pains me to know they haven't taken well enough precautions. Though, I suppose with Don Vyacvan operating so close, this black market is as safe as it can be. For a black market, anyway. 

"Mm." I let out, putting a firm stop to all this wasteful wandering of the mind. Heiya wants to have a moment together and Hrurim has more than enough time to set up. Should get going and take a new route to the pair. Scout the place out some more while it's light on the sellers and buyers.

To think this building is going to get busier. And messier, once the drugs and alcohol kick in fully. I sound off with a grumble and get out through a quieter door. A pair of thugs bash into me and I bash right back. We lock eyes and they back off, mostly. One of them, a man with a thickly scarred eye, lingers.

"Can I help you?" I ask, trailing a finger near the trigger of my weapon. Unless this man here has some secret magic in his system, he's not drawing faster than me. Won't aim as well, either, with that messy eye. So deep even the fur's not growing back where it should be.

"Not at all," he lets out, straightening his fancy coat and the suit under. A thoughtful noise lingers in my throat, hidden by the sounds of vehicles, stall and stage construction. Those two are definitely involved with a mob of some sort. Like soldiers of the old days when the technology and magic was not there, uniforms are needed. It's all so similar, even with all the changes.

I... I cannot know if Gamtambo's men are here. And, if they are, if they're even looking for me. For all I know, one of his lieutenants is simply selling merchandise. Some associate or something else. I cannot know for sure.

The sooner we're gone and out of here, the better. One less chance to be found before it's too late. One less opportunity to slip up. One step closer to Gamtambo himself, my finger on the trigger at the right time.

"Mm. What if our contact was going to sell here?" I ask myself in the open, knowing my voice is cloaked by the busy makeshift streets. It's a good point to consider and perhaps I've let it slip my mind for too long. We had many things in that transport convoy when the earthquake hit. Treasure, weapons, goods. All stuff that can be easily sold here.

A connection to Gamtambo that actually knows my face well enough...

My favoured hand settles on my weapon, and I keep to myself. The gaps in the crowd come naturally to me and I slip on through them, keeping out of the way of everyone. No fights, no messes. Get back to the other two and get this deal over with before a problem comes of it.