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Dark Sun: Praetor
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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5659379" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p><strong>House Tomblador Compound, Market Precinct, Balic</strong></p><p></p><p>Kalius stared into the flat, cold eyes of the elven caravan leader trying to swindle him. </p><p></p><p>"You call this glass?" he said, gesturing at the deformed lumps of melted sand laid on the table between them. "I've seen halflings more useful than these lumps of rubbish. Two gold, no more."</p><p></p><p>The elf glared back. "Maybe Wavir will give us better, we don't have to trade with Tomblador."</p><p></p><p>"If Wavir will buy these shoddy bits of half-melted sand from you for more than two gold chits, then you'd be doing us a favor by weakening our competition." He produced two etched and hardened ceramic discs and slapped them onto the table. "Take them now, or go try to find someone else generous enough to buy your offal."</p><p></p><p>Behind the feigned anger, Kalius saw the calculations running in the elf's eyes. For being a nomadic savage, Ariendal wasn't a fool. He swiped the coins and spat in the sand.</p><p></p><p>"May you cut your hands on them and your blood attract a Tembo," Ariendal said, storming off.</p><p></p><p>He grunted. "Why would I be carrying them when I have a dozen slaves at my command?"</p><p></p><p>With a gesture, said slaves set to gathering up the twisted glass shards while Arakai, his half-elven aid and the most useful slave he'd ever worked with, set about dealing with the minutia of determining where in the massive Tomblador compound and to what ends each individual piece should be taken. Kalius leaned back and drank a drought of warm broy, wiping his forehead at the early morning heat.</p><p></p><p>As the slaves scurried about, he saw familiar figures walking towards him; the young Praetor and his mul brother that had so conveniently tracked down the caravan raiders. <em></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>If he wasn't so young and so newly Praetor, I would suspect that he arranged the whole deal just to curry favor with us,</em> he thought sourly, bringing a wide smile to his lips.</p><p></p><p>"Praetors Jerrek and Sandstone, to what does Tomblador owe the pleasure of your company?"</p><p></p><p>Jerrek smiled - though it seemed like he was always smiling slightly, like there was a joke that he got that you wouldn't understand - and bowed. "Kalius, we are fortunate this day. Our ex-gladiator friend Hakar did indeed have one other oddity that he'd swiped from the raiders. We managed to drag him away from his broy long enough to get it from him."</p><p></p><p>He produced a strangely shaped copper fragment, covered with undecipherable designs and patterns. Kalius tried not to let his expression change as Jerrek set the bit on the table, watching him intently. "While it is, of course, valuable for its metal alone, it seems to be of little functional use..."</p><p></p><p>Kalius reached for it, trying to act casual as his pulse pounded at his temples. "Hm, I'm not sure what this is, but if you say it came from our caravan, I'll give it to my superiors as they likely know its purpose and true value. Once again, House Tomblador is in your debt. Perhaps you would have some broy with me?"</p><p></p><p>Jerrek shook his head even as his brother swiped the broy jug from Kalius' hand and downed the whole thing. A wry smile spread across Jerrek's face as Darus set the now-empty jug down on the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. </p><p></p><p>"Unfortunately, there seems to be no Broy left and urgent business calls me elsewhere," Jerrek said, with a smile and a slight bow. "We are just grateful that we are able to be of some small service to our Tomblador friends," </p><p></p><p>Kalius marveled at how sincere the Praetor made it sound - either Jerrek really believed in what he was saying or he was one of the smoothest liars Kalius had met in decades of haggling, bartering, and negotiating with every variety of merchant, swindler, petty thief, desert brigand, noble, starving pickpocket, merciless slaver, unscrupulous nomad, and every other flavor and disposition of the intelligent races of Athas.</p><p></p><p>One finger absently traced over the designs on the cool surface of the copper fragment as the Praetors wove their way through the traffic of the ever-busy Tomblador Market and out of his sight.</p><p></p><p>Arakai walked up beside him, following his gaze to where the Praetors had just passed through the compound gates. "Do you trust him?"</p><p></p><p>"As far as I can throw his brother," he said with a snort.</p><p></p><p>He glanced down at the fragment. "But just because someone can't be trusted doesn't mean they can't be useful."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5659379, member: 60965"] [B]House Tomblador Compound, Market Precinct, Balic[/B] Kalius stared into the flat, cold eyes of the elven caravan leader trying to swindle him. "You call this glass?" he said, gesturing at the deformed lumps of melted sand laid on the table between them. "I've seen halflings more useful than these lumps of rubbish. Two gold, no more." The elf glared back. "Maybe Wavir will give us better, we don't have to trade with Tomblador." "If Wavir will buy these shoddy bits of half-melted sand from you for more than two gold chits, then you'd be doing us a favor by weakening our competition." He produced two etched and hardened ceramic discs and slapped them onto the table. "Take them now, or go try to find someone else generous enough to buy your offal." Behind the feigned anger, Kalius saw the calculations running in the elf's eyes. For being a nomadic savage, Ariendal wasn't a fool. He swiped the coins and spat in the sand. "May you cut your hands on them and your blood attract a Tembo," Ariendal said, storming off. He grunted. "Why would I be carrying them when I have a dozen slaves at my command?" With a gesture, said slaves set to gathering up the twisted glass shards while Arakai, his half-elven aid and the most useful slave he'd ever worked with, set about dealing with the minutia of determining where in the massive Tomblador compound and to what ends each individual piece should be taken. Kalius leaned back and drank a drought of warm broy, wiping his forehead at the early morning heat. As the slaves scurried about, he saw familiar figures walking towards him; the young Praetor and his mul brother that had so conveniently tracked down the caravan raiders. [I] If he wasn't so young and so newly Praetor, I would suspect that he arranged the whole deal just to curry favor with us,[/I] he thought sourly, bringing a wide smile to his lips. "Praetors Jerrek and Sandstone, to what does Tomblador owe the pleasure of your company?" Jerrek smiled - though it seemed like he was always smiling slightly, like there was a joke that he got that you wouldn't understand - and bowed. "Kalius, we are fortunate this day. Our ex-gladiator friend Hakar did indeed have one other oddity that he'd swiped from the raiders. We managed to drag him away from his broy long enough to get it from him." He produced a strangely shaped copper fragment, covered with undecipherable designs and patterns. Kalius tried not to let his expression change as Jerrek set the bit on the table, watching him intently. "While it is, of course, valuable for its metal alone, it seems to be of little functional use..." Kalius reached for it, trying to act casual as his pulse pounded at his temples. "Hm, I'm not sure what this is, but if you say it came from our caravan, I'll give it to my superiors as they likely know its purpose and true value. Once again, House Tomblador is in your debt. Perhaps you would have some broy with me?" Jerrek shook his head even as his brother swiped the broy jug from Kalius' hand and downed the whole thing. A wry smile spread across Jerrek's face as Darus set the now-empty jug down on the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Unfortunately, there seems to be no Broy left and urgent business calls me elsewhere," Jerrek said, with a smile and a slight bow. "We are just grateful that we are able to be of some small service to our Tomblador friends," Kalius marveled at how sincere the Praetor made it sound - either Jerrek really believed in what he was saying or he was one of the smoothest liars Kalius had met in decades of haggling, bartering, and negotiating with every variety of merchant, swindler, petty thief, desert brigand, noble, starving pickpocket, merciless slaver, unscrupulous nomad, and every other flavor and disposition of the intelligent races of Athas. One finger absently traced over the designs on the cool surface of the copper fragment as the Praetors wove their way through the traffic of the ever-busy Tomblador Market and out of his sight. Arakai walked up beside him, following his gaze to where the Praetors had just passed through the compound gates. "Do you trust him?" "As far as I can throw his brother," he said with a snort. He glanced down at the fragment. "But just because someone can't be trusted doesn't mean they can't be useful." [/QUOTE]
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