RP:Butchers and Barrels and Kittens and Coopers
Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc
This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.
Background
Valentin, previously instructed by his most beneficent and gorgeous Guildmistress (who would never ever be caught nagging like a vicious harpy) to have several large barrels made, pops into Larket's trade quarter to finalise the order.
There he wrangles with Cooper Lou, aided by a precociously perceptive Kitten
Setting
Not too far from the town square of Larket can be found the tradesmen's quarter, where merchants and mongers of all kinds can be found, from coppersmiths and blacksmiths to coopers and cartwrights.
It's a rough and rambunctious place where voices are loud, prices are negotiable, and reputation is everything.
Butchers and Kittens and Coopers, Oh my!
Valentin was standing by a prominent Larket cooper's establishment, arguing loudly with a wiry dark featured man over what seemed to be the price of some barrels. "Now listen, y'banker, t'hell with y'bleedin' children! Let 'em starve! We blimmin' well agreed on a price per blimmin' barrel, an' now you tell me that th'price has changed? I don't blimmin' well think so!" Valentin loomed over the other man who, though physically less impressive, had enough spleen in him to potentially backchat a dragon. And backchat he was most certainly doing, with fervour "Listen, you big oaf! That was before we were told to use thicker timbers and copper bracing. Now, I don't know how you lizard lovers in Cenril do things, but here in Larket, we get a fair price on the goods and labour! Now, it's an extra gold per barrel, and if I agree to less, then my name isn't Cooper Lou!" Valentin bristled, his muttonchops standing on end "No, guv, -you- blimmin' listen! I didn't say nothin' about no blimmin copper..." Valentin paused a moment. "Wait a blimmin' moment!" His growl lifted an octave "Tha's blimmin' right! I didn't order copper bracin's! I said blimmin' iron bracin's on account o'the metal bein' cheaper since th'whole Kregus thing died down. Now you explain yourself, afore I put my boot so far up yer Xalious you'll be tastin' leather!" From the gathered audience, this argument had been going on for a small while. It wasn't uncommon for this kind of exchange to crop up in the trader's district, as merchants and traders made it a point of honour to try and fleece each other for all they were worth - reputations were often won, lost, regained and lost again in such exchanges. It was a form of entertainment, in some regards, not just commerce.
Daisy watches the two men bicker for as long as they've been bickering. Tiny little thing she is, she hardly gets noticed. Especially when large men are large and yelling and... large. She is no stranger to burly men and their brawls. Verbal or fisty, they happen. So while they carry on, the tiny little druid makes it her business to inspect the barrels. "Hn." A single claw is extended to scratch that copper band. "Excuse me?" Oh kitten. You have to speak up louder than that. So she does. "Excuse me." The butcher's sleeve is tugged on with one paw while her other holds up the claw she just scratched with. "It isn't copper."
Valentin was evidently working up a nice little explosion while Lou raved "One of your lot came round with a piece of paper and amendments to the order, mate, and I'll be damned if I'll stand here and have you rob me blind! You butchers must have mince for brains!" Valentin, having drawn himself up, feels his sleeve tugged, and glances down. "Oh, 'ello Kitten." And then Daisy's words register. "Say what?" Valentin's response was quiet, entirely lacking the inflection and bombast of the argument thus far. Lou, whose sharp ears had also caught Daisy's words, puffed up indignantly. "No bloody way! I got them bracin's from Vernon, who got them as excess stock from a coppersmith on the other side of Larket! Vernon's solid as oak, mate!" There was a shift in tone among the babbling conversations of the onlookers, a sense of an impending 'something'. Valentin quietly said "Shut up Lou." The butcher then looked at Daisy and gave her a nod "You'd better prove your words quick-like, lass, or these men will have you drawn an' quartered for malignin' their business." A glare from the butcher quietened Lou down, who stood in offended silence with arms crossed. The onlookers hushed, interested to see if there'd be a brawl to top off events.
Daisy tilts her head with a sweet smile that might make throw up if you look at it for too long. "Oh of course." She gives the butcher's arm a little pat then goes to kneel in front of the barrel she was examining before. "It is paint." The whispers and stares don't bother her any. The kitten has an audience from time to time and this time she isn't even doing anything amazing. That claw of hers remains extended as she scrapes more of the colored paint from the band. Underneath that coppery paint is a silvery grey color. "I'm more of a flora kind of girl, rather than metal." She looks up at those men with a cocked ear and a twitch of her whiskers. "But this isn't copper."
Valentin scratched the stubble on his jawline, taking a moment to consider how to turn this to his advantage without losing his working relationship with the Larket tradesmen. Lou's jaw, in the meanwhile had almost hit the floor, and it appeared his temper was rising once again. Valentin commented "Lou, mate. You may want t'have one o'yer boys see t'Vernon. If he's as solid as oak, an' he has been thus far, then someone's put him up t'this. Someone's cuttin' in on yer territory, mate." Lou shook his head a little, gathered his thoughts, and his tone of voice was quite different to what it had been in the middle of their 'argument'. It was more relaxed, kind of cold and calculated "Queen's tits, but I think you're right on the mark. Jacque. See to it." One of the burlier coopers puts down one of the barrels he'd just hoisted onto his shoulder, says "Right you are Lou." and meanders off onto the main street. Valentin carefully examines the bracings. "Nice work, kitten. Well spotted. Should hire you for that kind o'thing" Valentin's head worked in strange ways. For all that he had been a vampire and necromantic experiment subject for several decades, he still thought of himself as a tradesman first, and was almost normal when conducting trade-related business. "Now, me, I can tell this is iron. Which, Lou, luckily enough, is what I blimmin' asked for in the first place!" Valentin visibly resumed the original belligerent demeanour he had been sporting at the start of the affair. Lou, knowing an opportunity to save face when presented it, unfolded his arms and poked Valentin in the chest "Listen mate, I ain't going t'accuse you o'settin' Vernon up for this, but I find it mighty suspicious that this all works out so damn well for you! But, we here in Larket believe in a fair price for goods an' labour, so I'll charge you for the thicker planks an' the cheaper iron bracings. And that is bloody final, or my name is not Cooper Lou!" Valentin grunts, spits some water on his palm, and holds his hand out. "You're a thief, Lou, but the price is fair. Done deal." Lou spits on his palm, and seals the deal with a handshake. Both men then wipe their hands on their respective aprons. Valentin, although having no saliva, always made sure he ingested some water before these meetings. No trader trusted a dry palm. It showed disrespect. Valentin turned to Daisy. "Well, lass, been bumpin' into each other all over. You followin' me?" There was no menace there - just a matter-of-fact question.
Daisy always, always helps out the scary ones. Maybe that one has a headache or this one needs a bandaid. Who knows what a bandaid is? Oh right. They're just bandages right now. Silly time periods. Right! So. Always help out 'cause you never know when you'll please a possible ally. Good, bad, and the ugly, kitten. The feline hops up onto her feet and offers the butcher a nod, keeping close to him with her paws folded at the small of her back. "Yes." She follows quicklike just in case one of those other townsfolk decides to snatch her up for whatever reason. Hey! People are weird and just snatch other people up for whatever tickles their fancy at the time. Daisy lets out a soft whistle while they walk. Don't ask why just yet! Geez. Impatient people are impatient.
In which the Butcher explains to the Kitten what it is that he does
Valentin mentally processed the list of tasks he still had to worry about as he tromped down the main road of Larket, Daisy alongside. So, the barrels were on the way. That would no doubt please her Grand Necromantic Narkiness - not that she'd reduce his workload in gratitude, or anything. The vats were ready to go. He had her stupid goat an' the seventeen vampires on ice for her mysterious ritual. That pretty much left takin' time aside to lecture th'blimmin' Novus Morior an' tryin' to teach the blighters a bit o'critical thinkin'. Stupid robed gits had heads full of clouds - sure, dark cumulo-nimbus clouds - but damned clouds nonetheless. Still, all that aside, the transaction had been a success, and he still had Lou an' his lads on side, even after that potentially catastrophic hitch in the deal. Valentin figured Vernon would lose a few teeth over this one. Jacque was pretty simple in his approach. "So Daisy. How'd you spot th'scam? That was some impressive gildin' they'd put over the iron. Lou nearly had 'imself a fit."
Daisy has to trot along rather quickly to keep up with Valentin's pace. Little legs mean the girl has to take three steps to his one. She doesn't mind so much since all of her fluff isn't really fluff at all. The pudgy kitten just hides it well. "Can't you smell it?" She pulls a small cloth from her bag and cleans the paint residue from beneath her claw. Which... sounds gross now that it has been mentioned. Eh. Can't imagine much can gross out a butcher. The cloth is lifted up for the man to take. "I could smell the paint."
Valentin raised his eyebrows. For all his vampiric senses, he still mostly used his eyes. This was, perhaps, a handy reminder t'stop bein' so particular about that. "Now that y'mention it, it does 'ave a distinctive reek to it." Valentin could understand how Lou could miss it, though. The cooper was busy with a lot of orders at present time, which made it a bit easier for someone to slip him dodgy parts on the sly. "Tha' nose o'yours could come in handy on occasion, if'n y'aint none too squeamish. I'm constantly out gatherin' exotic specimens o'critter for the guildmistress, see, but I ain't much of a tracker, m'self. I am, however, willin' t'hire on a consultin' basis those what have the ability." Valentin shoulders a beggar out of his and Daisy's way without breaking stride. "It's not pleasant work, mind. I ain't in the habit o'bringin' back the specimens alive, which is somethin' of a dealbreaker for most. But if'n you ever need some spare coin an' are considerin' employment on a task-related basis, come find me. It's inevitable I'll 'ave somethin' on the go." Which would be true until such time as he could send Tenebrae back from whence she blimmin' came.
Daisy actually lets out a little bit of a giggle. "Alive?" This kitten has seen much more blood and gore than anyone ever gives her credit for. Not that you could blame them. Look at her. She should be playing in a garden or something. Well she does that too, but a druid's heals are hardly needed in a garden. Plantish heals, sure. But not plantish heals. "What kind of things do you need to be alive?" She purses her lips in a thoughtful manner. That is what people do when they're thinking: lip pursing. We all love a good cliche! "Even if they were mostly dead, I could keep them somewhat alive until they got to you. If you'd like."
Valentin clarifies the nature of his work for the kitten's benefit. Valentin might fit some folks' definition of 'monstrous' - at least, to those who knew him well - but he was at least honest in his dealings. "No luv, what I mean is this: I kill things. I chop 'em up into little pieces for the Guild's experiments, load 'em up in me meatcart, an' haul 'em home. Some folks gets a little queasy when I start butcherin' th'specimens, y'see. An' that accounts for me constant lack o'helpers." Which was fair enough. Not many had the coldblooded nerves of steel Valentin had developed over several decades. "I'm a butcher, kitten. Carvin' things up for th'tables o'the higher classes has always been m'job. An' I'm damn good at it." Modesty wasn't one of Valentin's flaws either.
Daisy blinks those huge green eyes up at the man several times. "Oh." Well that explains a lot of things. The feline doesn't suppose it is all that big of a deal that he chops *ahem* specimens up for experiments. Everybody has to have a job, right? And if experiments need to be done. Well. "I usually put people back together." She smiles again, not at all queasy about what happens to the inside of a body when it becomes the outside. Shove it back in, say a spell, sew it up, and all before lunchtime. "Not always though. I could bring those to you. What kind of specimiens do you need?"
Valentin scratches the stubble on his jaw "In all honesty luv, it don't really matter, so long as it's mostly intact afore I get to it. Anythin' dead is grist t'the mill, but th'things I get actively sent out for tend t'be big an' nasty. Or small an' nasty. But the all-pervadin' theme o'me sorry existence is the damn things are all downright nasty. Could be minotaur bits I need t'get one week, vampire bits th'next. A slice o'mermaid, a cut o'wolfman. Th'mistress has exotic needs for her workin's. Me, I don' ask, I just supply th'demand." And occasionally get called in to help with the actual necromantic workings as well, but that was Guild business and could be left unsaid. "Really, if it's dead an' was either supernatural or really blimmin' dangerous when alive - chances are I can use it. But mostly I'm sent out wi'special orders t'fill. An' it's those special orders where I'm inclined t'pay some gold fer a helper."
Daisy doesn't really know how she feels about killing people just to kill them. Maybe she'll come across a few things that he needs by accident. "Mmm. I think maybe we might be able to work something out." Her stump of a tail swishes, nearly throwing her off balance. Damn. Gotta get used to that, kitten. She uses the butcher's arm to steady herself then quickly snatches her paw away again. "I bet I could find something to make it less messy for you too."
Valentin grunts, letting their meandering path take them out of the busier streets into quieter alleys "I'm a clean worker, luv. There ain't no mess when I'm done. It ain't no brag when I say I'm a master o'the art o'butchery. Neatest cuts an' cleanest workspace in Cenril, an' no joke." Except when folks trash th'joint, Valentin thought. "No, it's that sharp nose o'yours which may well help me the most, that an' your quick-thinkin' ability t'understand what y'nose is tellin' you. Tha's a more useful an' employable knack than y'might otherwise think. All the nasty stuff, the butcherin' an' killin' o'critters - well, I handle that. Don't trust others t'do as neat a job of it, y'see. An' once its done, well, it's in the cart then - out o'sight, out o'mind" The butcher glances up at the sky, gauging the passage of time. "Well luv, It's been fun an' all, but I got t'go take care o'some Guild business in somethin' of a hurry. I'm always in need of a good offsider so if y'need a job, an' don't mind corpses an' other nastiness, feel free t'get in touch. Cheers for the head's up on the barrel bracin's" Their course taking them into an empty culvert, Valentin would then touch his hand to the brim of his bowler hat as strange sussurating whispers would hiss and clash in the air around him, forming the cantatus of shadowbinding. Valentin sinks instantly into his own shadow, which then cracks open its eyes and grins its head-splitting cheshire grin. And then the shadow is gone, whisping off among the many other shadows of Larket.