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[IC] Eberron: The Plumbers
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<blockquote data-quote="mfloyd3" data-source="post: 7954242" data-attributes="member: 23867"><p>Alara moved quickly up the street, slipping around the small crowd that was just leaving the House Ghallanda inn and under the striking new sign. She was not quite late, she reassured herself as she stepped into the firm's offices, but she had cut it very close. Well, that was fine. Even if she had been late, it would have been better than showing up to the meeting in what remained of her aristocratic wardrobe. This was not an audience that would be impressed by such things, even if the gown had been up to par.</p><p></p><p>She strolled up to Fenic's desk. The goblin looked up and gave her a polite nod of the head. "Success?" he asked.</p><p></p><p>"Not really," she said, slipping the carefully rolled parchment from under her tunic and passing it to the goblin. "Bank draft."</p><p></p><p>The goblin frowned in confusion. "That's good, isn't it?"</p><p></p><p>Alara gestured to the document. "It won't be," she sighed.</p><p></p><p>She'd thought the job might actually pay out two days ago, when she had brought the elderly aristocratic couple's missing jewlery back to them and reported that their maid was already in the custody of the Watch. But word had leaked to Kundarak about the recovery of valuables, and a House agent had paid the pair a visit before nightfall the same day. He had left, Alara knew, with both the goods and the firm's only realistic chance of getting paid.</p><p></p><p>Torn had insisted she pay the couple a visit, hoping they might pay up if pressured. And Alara had done as he'd asked, even donning her remaining fine clothing in hopes that they would be embarrassed enough in front of another noble to conjure something up. But it had simply been a pathetic scene with the three of them sitting in faded finery, drinking weak tea from chipped cups in a house whose furnishings had already been stripped of anything saleable. They'd known her for a fallen aristocrat just as surely as she'd known them. In the end, she accepted the bank draft she knew to be worthless just because she could not bring herself to humiliate the couple still further.</p><p></p><p>The aristocracy is dying, she reflected yet again. And what will replace it? The bloodless, honorless commercial oligarchies of the Dragonmarked Houses? The irony of having that thought in an office run by a Tharashk scion was not lost on her.</p><p></p><p>The wizard noted the familiar box in the neighboring room. "You brought cremfel?" She asked. The goblin nodded. "Thank you, Fenic," she offered sincerely.</p><p></p><p>Alara slipped into the neighboring room, greeting her colleagues politely as she helped herself to a cup of tal and a pastry, intent of cleansing her palette of the taste of musty tea and despair.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="mfloyd3, post: 7954242, member: 23867"] Alara moved quickly up the street, slipping around the small crowd that was just leaving the House Ghallanda inn and under the striking new sign. She was not quite late, she reassured herself as she stepped into the firm's offices, but she had cut it very close. Well, that was fine. Even if she had been late, it would have been better than showing up to the meeting in what remained of her aristocratic wardrobe. This was not an audience that would be impressed by such things, even if the gown had been up to par. She strolled up to Fenic's desk. The goblin looked up and gave her a polite nod of the head. "Success?" he asked. "Not really," she said, slipping the carefully rolled parchment from under her tunic and passing it to the goblin. "Bank draft." The goblin frowned in confusion. "That's good, isn't it?" Alara gestured to the document. "It won't be," she sighed. She'd thought the job might actually pay out two days ago, when she had brought the elderly aristocratic couple's missing jewlery back to them and reported that their maid was already in the custody of the Watch. But word had leaked to Kundarak about the recovery of valuables, and a House agent had paid the pair a visit before nightfall the same day. He had left, Alara knew, with both the goods and the firm's only realistic chance of getting paid. Torn had insisted she pay the couple a visit, hoping they might pay up if pressured. And Alara had done as he'd asked, even donning her remaining fine clothing in hopes that they would be embarrassed enough in front of another noble to conjure something up. But it had simply been a pathetic scene with the three of them sitting in faded finery, drinking weak tea from chipped cups in a house whose furnishings had already been stripped of anything saleable. They'd known her for a fallen aristocrat just as surely as she'd known them. In the end, she accepted the bank draft she knew to be worthless just because she could not bring herself to humiliate the couple still further. The aristocracy is dying, she reflected yet again. And what will replace it? The bloodless, honorless commercial oligarchies of the Dragonmarked Houses? The irony of having that thought in an office run by a Tharashk scion was not lost on her. The wizard noted the familiar box in the neighboring room. "You brought cremfel?" She asked. The goblin nodded. "Thank you, Fenic," she offered sincerely. Alara slipped into the neighboring room, greeting her colleagues politely as she helped herself to a cup of tal and a pastry, intent of cleansing her palette of the taste of musty tea and despair. [/QUOTE]
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