M3: Assassin's Knot (Patlin judging)

Eanos

The monk hesitates, not inclined to give ground, but as Rinaldo is meant to be his employer, he finally relents. Not turning his back on the strange, unmoving man until they're a safe distance away, Eanos retreats with the merchant.
 

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Once outside the place, Rinaldo stop and whispers to Eanos. "What do you think of him. You think he has any relation with our reason here?"
 

Eanos

"I'm not sure," Eanos admits, whispering in return. "He seems to genuinely believe this is his house, but Arness was pretty clear that the building was supposed to be open. Either she doesn't know he's squatting, or she knows all too well and sent us here hoping he might do us in--a thought that worries me quite a bit."

Here he furrows his brow, adding, "And did it seem odd to you that he never moved as we talked with him?" Eanos shakes it off, not sure what to make of it.
 

"Yes, and even if he has nothing to do with our case, he intrigate me, and I would be curious to know more about him. Let's see."

Rinaldo walk back to the door and knock. "Sir, I would like to talk with you a moment, can I?"
 


Eanos

Eanos comes up beside Rinaldo, worried about what happens if the man does suddenly decide to move.

"Should we perhaps come back with a few more people? Maybe he'd be more cooperative with more of a showing?" he whispers.
 

The man seems to soften. "Are you really thinking of starting a trading post here? What sorts of things were you planning to trade in?" He steps out of the shadows. It is none other than Priska the Fool, the begger you saw on the steps of the inn on the first night of your arrival. He wears tattered clothes, but holds the longsword with a firm hand. The longsword itself is finely made, with intricate leaf designs on its hilt. If the blade is an equal to the hilt, it must be at least masterwork.
 

"It is among the possibilities. Sadly, nothing can be sure at 100% until I have the fund necessary. I am looking for the funds. But I'm serious in my procedure. I want to build a tarding post to trade animals and good produce from animals, like leather clothings or armor, hat decorated with feather from exotic bird, or simply the raw material that some magician might need for there spellcasting. In all that, the common thing is I want to produce things from exotic animals, nothing compare with the things a farmer can produce with his herd.

This town is a good place as it is near some swamp and jungle, where I could catch most of the animals I need. For the others, they would surely come by sea, so they could be carried to the harbor here. The transformation could be done here, as I am quite sure it will cost less than in the capital. Taxes are heavy generally in the capital. Then, all the product could be sold in the country and capital.

For now, I am prospecting everything: people who could give some funds, customers (the Prince would be a good one), place to place the trading post, how to carry all animals.

But you, I've seen you on the street last night, begging. Maybe you'll like to work instead. As I said, it wouldn't be for tomorrow, but if things are going as I wish, it would be in less then a year."
 

"I see." says Priska, sounded a bit disapointed. "Isn't it dangerous going into those jungles looking for such exotic animals? The jungles south of here, for instance...very dangerous. How do you defend youselves?"
 

"That's the wonderful things about business, you don't do everything yourselves. Look, my speciality is trading, so I am the one who do all the merchandising and negotiation needed. I have associates and employee in this business. Hunters, animal trainers and even wizards. Magic can give you something that normal needs cannot. And these people I hire generally know the place they hunt.

I know jungles can be a dangerous place with there wild animals. If it is that, I think my associates will just need a little adaptation to this jungle. Or maybe there is more to it than animals?"
ask Rinaldo, showing some concern to the fact the man find the jungle dangerous.
 

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