Post by Raab on Jun 15, 2017 22:28:42 GMT -5
They were unlike anything he had ever seen. The books were old and definitely unique, feeling more like obscenely organized notebooks rather than formally published manuscripts. They were also quite heavy and clearly too large to fit in the small sack that was draped awkwardly over his shoulder. The overstuffed bag hung low on his back, swinging madly with each step he made, crashing into his side every so often as it jostled about. He had not anticipated that the texts would be so unwieldy, and the effort put into carrying them threw off his normally refined and collected gait. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and lower back as he trudged down the crowded dirt path before him. He certainly couldn't ask his companion to share the burden, as the books themselves were much too valuable and important to be left with a common mercenary. The amount of money Madame Almonte had given him for their purchase was certainly the largest sum he had ever seen, and he had felt rather important carrying such a small fortune about in public for a time. Now, in the waning moments of his first adventure, the young man was broke, and the comfort of security the money had brought him evaporated as quickly as the sweat from his brow.
The high noon sun bore down on Pirate's Market, making the final stretch to the pier especially difficult. All he wanted to do was sit down in the shade with a cool drink and begin to finger through the manuscripts he had just purchased, unlocking whatever secrets that lay within them before returning to the Madame; and not just because of their supposed value. This unyielding curiosity was familiar, something he felt nearly every time he saw a book that interested him, and it was an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that drove his obsessive infatuation with reading. Up until this point, it had only ever served him well.
He had also grown quite accustomed to the comforts of high society, its attention to hospitality and sterility, which made the trip to Pirate's Market all the more shocking. He was, however, a little disappointed in the lack of drama and mystique one would expect to find while visiting a veritable black market. He wove fantastic tales in the daydreams that assaulted his waking hours, imagining shootouts, brawls, and bloody murder to be lurking around every corner. In fact, the bustling market he had just left seemed more of a place where a lot of people were just trying to get by in whatever way they could. He briefly pondered how difficult these people's lives must be, and rather suddenly let out a deep sigh as he realized the futility in his desire to help any one of these poor souls.
He adjusted the pack on his shoulder, letting out a frail grunt as he did so. His eyes quickly darted over to his hired arm to see if he had noticed, but the mercenary wasn't paying any attention to him, and was actually staring blankly into the horizon as he swaggered beside his self-conscious client. The brute hadn't had much to say during the entire span of his short employ, although he couldn't begin to think what topic of conversation they might both find appealing. He thought back again to the hagglers and hockers at the market and their unfortunate existence.
Just trying to get by...right.
The pair's advance was slowed as the crowd abruptly thickened. They had just arrived at the waterfront, but the afternoon traffic had grown more congested than usual. He was not a particularly large character, so even on his tiptoes he could barely make out the situation among the sea of people and creature alike. He noticed that, at least for a marketplace pier, there were a surprisingly sparse amount of sea-faring vessels docked in the harbor. Upon further examination, he realized that there were no ships to be seen for a couple thousand yards in either direction. Past the docks, there was only the vast expanse of South Blue stretching on for what looked to be eternity. There was, however, a small disturbance just past the nearshore where a wave was beginning a regal crest. He could hardly make out what it was, but it appeared that something was...on the wave. The speck was too far out, impossible to properly define with his only slightly better-than-average eyesight. Regardless, it was certainly something out of the ordinary.
He quickly reached around to his back and brought the overstuffed sack to his chest. Something didn't feel right about the situation, and large-scale public disturbances usually meant terrible things for people with expensive merchandise (regardless of whether or not this was true, he kept telling himself that repeatedly from that point forward). His entire body began shaking, and his gaze suddenly shifted to his part-time partner, who at this point looked happy to be finished with an easy pay day. The gruff mercenary sucked back a wad of mucus and spittle, grunted, and spat the loogey out on the dirt just in front of him. After smacking his lips, the hired arm grinned and raised his eyebrows before making his salutation.
"Well...since you paid me in advance, this is it for you and me. And with that...I say have a nice life, kid."
The mercenary turned on his heel and began slowly forcing his way through the crowd toward the northern side of the docks. He gulped, watching as his only means of protection sauntered off with a pocket full of his Aunt's money. He pressed the sack even closer to his chest, squeezing them together with as much force as he could muster, perhaps subconsciously thinking that he would better protect them from whatever was about to unfold...
...but who was going to protect him?
He was alone now, and that funny feeling grew funnier with each passing moment.
The high noon sun bore down on Pirate's Market, making the final stretch to the pier especially difficult. All he wanted to do was sit down in the shade with a cool drink and begin to finger through the manuscripts he had just purchased, unlocking whatever secrets that lay within them before returning to the Madame; and not just because of their supposed value. This unyielding curiosity was familiar, something he felt nearly every time he saw a book that interested him, and it was an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that drove his obsessive infatuation with reading. Up until this point, it had only ever served him well.
He had also grown quite accustomed to the comforts of high society, its attention to hospitality and sterility, which made the trip to Pirate's Market all the more shocking. He was, however, a little disappointed in the lack of drama and mystique one would expect to find while visiting a veritable black market. He wove fantastic tales in the daydreams that assaulted his waking hours, imagining shootouts, brawls, and bloody murder to be lurking around every corner. In fact, the bustling market he had just left seemed more of a place where a lot of people were just trying to get by in whatever way they could. He briefly pondered how difficult these people's lives must be, and rather suddenly let out a deep sigh as he realized the futility in his desire to help any one of these poor souls.
He adjusted the pack on his shoulder, letting out a frail grunt as he did so. His eyes quickly darted over to his hired arm to see if he had noticed, but the mercenary wasn't paying any attention to him, and was actually staring blankly into the horizon as he swaggered beside his self-conscious client. The brute hadn't had much to say during the entire span of his short employ, although he couldn't begin to think what topic of conversation they might both find appealing. He thought back again to the hagglers and hockers at the market and their unfortunate existence.
Just trying to get by...right.
The pair's advance was slowed as the crowd abruptly thickened. They had just arrived at the waterfront, but the afternoon traffic had grown more congested than usual. He was not a particularly large character, so even on his tiptoes he could barely make out the situation among the sea of people and creature alike. He noticed that, at least for a marketplace pier, there were a surprisingly sparse amount of sea-faring vessels docked in the harbor. Upon further examination, he realized that there were no ships to be seen for a couple thousand yards in either direction. Past the docks, there was only the vast expanse of South Blue stretching on for what looked to be eternity. There was, however, a small disturbance just past the nearshore where a wave was beginning a regal crest. He could hardly make out what it was, but it appeared that something was...on the wave. The speck was too far out, impossible to properly define with his only slightly better-than-average eyesight. Regardless, it was certainly something out of the ordinary.
He quickly reached around to his back and brought the overstuffed sack to his chest. Something didn't feel right about the situation, and large-scale public disturbances usually meant terrible things for people with expensive merchandise (regardless of whether or not this was true, he kept telling himself that repeatedly from that point forward). His entire body began shaking, and his gaze suddenly shifted to his part-time partner, who at this point looked happy to be finished with an easy pay day. The gruff mercenary sucked back a wad of mucus and spittle, grunted, and spat the loogey out on the dirt just in front of him. After smacking his lips, the hired arm grinned and raised his eyebrows before making his salutation.
"Well...since you paid me in advance, this is it for you and me. And with that...I say have a nice life, kid."
The mercenary turned on his heel and began slowly forcing his way through the crowd toward the northern side of the docks. He gulped, watching as his only means of protection sauntered off with a pocket full of his Aunt's money. He pressed the sack even closer to his chest, squeezing them together with as much force as he could muster, perhaps subconsciously thinking that he would better protect them from whatever was about to unfold...
...but who was going to protect him?
He was alone now, and that funny feeling grew funnier with each passing moment.