RP:Lirithen Buys the Diamond
Part of the Merfolk Tale Arc
Summary: The elf Lirithen makes the second confirmed purchase of an artifact of Mercea, the earring of Avaritia now in his possession for the price of 20,000 gold..
Characters: Finn, Lirithen
Location: Port Rynvale; The Broken Barrel Inn.
Finn was in Rynvale again, evidently recovered from whatever megrims had beset him after his visit with Terra the night before, if the girlish giggle of the serving girl who was leaving his table at the bay window was anything to go by. The runner seemed oddly at rest within his own skin as the first signs of evening crept across the skies of the shores. Within moments he would head up to the parlor to begin an evening of considerably less dangerous work than the previous night had required, and already several shots of Rynvale’s best rum lay warm in his gullet. The male was lounging in the bay seat, one knee bent to offer support for the arm that lay draped across it, while fingers played intricately with the handful of cards that lay cradled in the same. What was left of the pack was spread out on the table next to him, and ever so often, a card in hand would be turned, flicked casually onto the rough surface, and slid eventually into place beneath whatever line the runner saw fit. Twas a private game, one that helped him think..to any on looker it would seem peculiarly pointless and puzzling. Just the way he liked it.
Lirithen 's entrance was unheralded prior to his emergence from the street outside, and even then was likely ignored as the elf strode purposefully up to the Barrel's bar, pausing to view the selection of liquids available. A hoarse clearing of his throat attracted the attention of the Simon, who wrinkled his nose at the sickly sweet smell rising from the end of a cigar clamped between the rogue's teeth. An eyebrow lofted at the inquiry of his poison that followed. "Surprise me," replied the acrobat, exhaling a thick pillow of grey smoke, "and have you dish, or something? I'd hate to get ash on your lovely floorboards." Simon merely stared while reaching for the most expensive drink on offer, pouring the elf a generous measure of cognac. Lirithen sighed, tapped the end of his cigar and calmly let the ash spiral to the floor as he reached for his glass, turning to view the collection of cut-throats and pirates the Barrel was offering on this particular day.
It was, oddly enough, the distinctive smell of quality cigar smoke in a room more familiar with cheap chewing tobacco or cigarettes that caused the eyes of the runner to lift from his current employment and narrow thoughtfully on the silver haired elf as he made himself comfortable at the bar. The runner didn’t move, his thumb sliding over the surface of the cards in his palm to upturn another. The joker, how..appropo. He curbed the twitch of his lips. The Tree born hadn’t been seen in this neck of the woods for months, it bore noting why he had chosen to end the habit. At this time of the evening, the daytime crowd gone, and the evening band trickling in, the room was empty enough that his voice would not even have to be raised for that husky drawl to crawl across to sensitive elven hearing. “Far from your forests, aren’t you Jumper..” he observed idly. “To what do we owe..the honor?.” This last dripped with dry irony.
Lirithen turned to face the source from which his ears had discerned the use of an old alias, a brow jumping to mingle with wavy silver locks that hung over his forehead as emerald latched onto the smuggler baron. Response was forsaken in favour of a mouthful of smoke, a trail of which was left in the rogue's wake as he picked up his glass and made his way, quite bluntly, over to Finn's table, where he immediately seated himself without exchanging pleasantries. Or otherwise. "I keep an ear on the docks," Lirolae began to reply, pausing for another hit of the rum-flavoured cigar, "and have heard rumours that I find quite intriguing." A minute shuffle of the shoulder travelled down through his coat, rattling the pouches attached to the inside of his armoured coat and causing a barely discernible chink to escape into the air. Jumper was carrying a wealth quite unusual for his usual purse of one or two thousand. "Someone mentioned some artefacts... You're looking to shift."
Finn did not miss that clink of metal against metal, but he did not turn his head to so much as acknowledge that the elf had settled into place beside him. Only a bad salesman revealed his desire to make the sale. Another card was slid into place. “Oh aye?..” he murmured softly. “Reckon the lads on the docks are yacking a whole lot of late then. Fair stream of stangers passin’ though with the same tale of late..” A soft grunt of dissatisfaction slipped past his lips, the red head making a minor adjustment to the alignments of cards of the table’s surface before speaking again. “But there might be somethin’ to their ramblings..for the right price.” Now would the gold flecked gaze travelled to fall upon the elf. Just how much did he know? If he was fishing for information, he likely would not be willing to offer as much as an informed buyer. If he knew what he was asking for.. “What’re you lookin’ for in particular? Demand for certain..items is stronger than others. Affects price, as I’m sure you’d understand.”
Lirithen :: "I'm not sure entirely what I'm looking for," the elf replied honestly, "I know the specifics of a few items, but they do not interest me." The reality; bidding was probably too high for the elf to compete with. If so many details had leaked, they must be widely sought after. "I'd prefer to peruse the entire selection before I jump into making any irrational buys, hmm?" Both eyebrows raised now, as if seeking Finn's agreement with the previously stated before continuing. The cigar was made use of again, the taste washed down with a mouthful of the decidedly horrid cognac.
Finn’s fingers paused in their turning of another card. “I reckon its not what they look like mate..as much as what they can do that’d be interesting to you. If you fancy a particular..gift.. then I figure don’t rightly matter the hell it looks like, aye?” An echo of once present camaraderie echoed in his low tones before he would turn over a series of cards, each accompanied by a single word. “ Greed, Arrogance, Addiction, Lust, Selfishness, Anger.. the story goes..the wearer can provoke corruption along any of those lines. That’s a lot of power for a man to get his hands on..” he drawled idly. He would speak nothing of the taint that came with wearing the artifacts consistently, as he in fact knew nothing of it. “Seems that power is popular..quite a few folks shown’ an interest, made a sale, got a couple pending.” And a necklace to steal, if he could garner the right crew and resources, for the mother of all payouts.
Lirithen drummed his fingers rhythmically, brows furrowing in irritation. Theft was difficult when one was ignorant of where the prize was kept. He almost smiled at the thought of honest transaction, but quickly wiped his face clean of the expression. "Cigar?" the ranger asked suddenly, pulling a small wooden box seemingly from no where and placing it on the table for Finn's examination. Inside would be a selection of three or four of the things on a cushion of fine purple velvet, the tree-born producing a matchbox from inside his sleeve the second Red made his selection, unless the offer was declined. Were such the case, the smuggler would be gifted with an offended frown, but the box would be left in case he changed his mind. "Arrogance - may I call it pride? - and selfishness." These two had slipped beneath his radar. "Jewellery, are they not? I'll offer twenty-thousand if either are earrings."
Finn’s gaze dropped to the cigar box. Tempting, but the male was leery of anything that might perhaps be laced, with poison, a truth agent..or any other equally unpleasant thing. “Never touch the stuff..” he dropped in a lazy drawl. “But I reckon if it’s an earring you’re lookin’ for, Selfishness would be your interest.” Another look, an almost curious one this time was darted the ranger’s way. What would..as it were, one of the ‘good guys’ be wanting with an artifact that could stir up such mayhem? The ability to induce out of control hoarding on another, could not possibly have a pleasant outcome. The imposition of another’s will, in any form, was surely frowned upon by his sort. Unless he was no longer their sort. Curiosity became thoughtfulness, but nothing was said upon the matter. “An’ just your luck, you happen to have the first bid on it, if you’re puttin’ it down. Twenty thousand seems an agreeable number..” he murmured with eyes returned now to the turn of his cards. It was close enough to the price at which he had sold the earring that was this ones mate. “Shall we make a deal then elf?”
Lirithen took a moment to carefully contemplate, disguising it as another harmless intake of cigar smoke and cognac. This was an evil artefact, with a very tempting power... The gears in his head began to churn out all sorts of wonderful and dastardly plans made possibly by the implementation of this particular piece. A nod followed, the glass of cognac placed on the table to free a hand so he may reach into his coat and draw forth two of the fat pouches, which were then placed quite nonchalantly within Finn's reach. "Twenty-thousand," the elf voiced in the wake of a yawn, arms spreading wide and low, where some slight-of-hand freed a single throwing knife from one of the many sheaths on the ranger's thighs, to be hidden beneath the table. If Finn tried to run with his gold now, Jumper was willing to bet he wouldn't make it very far.
Finn’s lips curled in an idle smile at the sight and sound of the gold being placed upon the table, before the male leaned back in the window seat and lifted his hand in an idle movement that may have been nothing more than the request for another refill of his drink. Oddly enough, the female that came to his side and dropped the runner a wink, slid a small shot glass of whisky before the elf, before flashing him a smile and a heartfelt warning. “You be careful with that drink now darlin’ wouldn’t want you chokin’ on ice now would we?” she purred. And with another knowing look, the girl would melt into the ever increasing crowd, as quickly as she appeared. A careful look into the glass would reveal a single diamond stud, winking in all its seductive glory through a sea of amber. As soon as the runner was assured that the elf had seen and retrieved the item, his broad hands would reach of the gold upon the table. “Pleasure doin’ business mate..An if you’re of a mind to earn it back, there’s somethin’ that needs doin’ that your particular..skills, might come in useful for.” He added, dangling the lure. “But I reckon we can talk about that another time.”
Lirithen resisted the urge to tut at the unnecessary dramatics, but played along for the sake of it. "Your concern is pleasing," replied the tree-born with an equally sweet smile, lifting the glass from the table to toast the waitress as she made her leave. "And a generous gift," was voiced idly at Finn before the elf lowered the glass, reaching inside his pocket for a vial of a colourless liquid. He would wave away inquiry as to what it was as he poured the vials contents into the glass, rotating the glass in his hand to ensure the two substances mixed. "Something to soothe the burn," he voiced as he lifted the glass to his lips, downing the concoction in a single gulp before placing two fingers inside his mouth to remove the stud where he had caught it between his teeth. The nullification mixture had, indeed, dispelled the discomfort at the back of the throat that such drinks caused, as well as having the effect of completely defeating the effects of any common spike the runner may have had his tart slip into the drink. "That would depend on the matter at hand," Jumper continued idly as he made quick work of inserting the stud into place and then flicking his head over the base of his pointed ears to hide the diamond's sparkle, "I may be up for a good heist, though I'm hoping you don't expect me to carry out an assassination." The cigar box was replaced under the table, along with both of Lirithen's hands which seemed to meet on his lap. The half-smoked cigar previously between fair lips was laid to rest on the table's side.
Finn exhaled almost unnoticeably. Only after the deal had been done did he allow himself to relax fully. “Related to the artifacts actually. Seller’s holding on to a piece that the market is willin’ to go to the limit for.” A grim smile tugged on his tanned lips as he raised his own amber liquid to his lips to down a swig. “The necklace.. I’m figurin’ I can get 50, 75 easy for it,” he murmured. A lie, of course, but if he revealed how much it was truly worth he might find himself with a bigger problem on his hands. “Reckon if we get it, the split would make it well worth the effort. Don’t have to make the decision right away..”
Lirithen lifted an eyebrow at the proposal. Seventy-five was hardly 'the limit', but still a substantial sum. "An interesting thought," Lirolae replied as he lifted his hand, now somehow housed within a tight white glove, and extended another cigar outwards for Finn to take, if he so desired. A little sweetener. Shrugging, he placed the thing casually on the table and pushed himself into standing, a curt nod completing the evening's business. No indication of the removal of the cigar box was given, yet any who searched for it would find it quite gone.