Blaes was wanting for Micky just outside the entrance to the TRC, impeccably dressed as usual. His formal suit had been replaced with a champagne dinner jacket tailored to flare at the hip. He nodded cordially at Micky as he approached.
“Excellent to see you again Mr. Taylor, I’m glad you could join me.” Blaes offered his hand as Micky joined him by the door.
“I owe you one for the invitation mate” replied Micky with a smile. “I’ve been buzzing about it all day.”
“Indeed, shall we away then? We are to meet Algernon at a private members club a short walk from here?”
“Lead the way mate.”
Blaes led Micky along the broad boulevards of the government district with clear assurance, passing by office buildings and plazas without so much as a backward glance.
Coming to a stop before a nondescript oaken door way Blaes turned to Micky. “Here we are then, the El Masri. Typically it is restricted to members only, however you will of course be coming in as my guest.”
“I appreciate it mate”, replied Micky. “What kind of a place is it? The only private members clubs I’ve ever heard about were pretty much just fancy bars rich lads used to hide from their wives.”
Blaes barely suppressed a snort. “There is perhaps an element of truth to that, although I suspect many of the members would not appreciate it being expressed quite so frankly. There is no gender requirement for membership here, just a certain standing in the community and an invitation from member in good stead with the club. In truth most of us use it as an escape from the more public pressures of our roles. That and the attached kitchen is most excellent.”
Seeing Micky fall quiet at this explanation Blaes turned back to the door and rapped smartly upon it a single time. The door swing open instantly, the wood moving over the stone without a single sound. Standing in the doorway was the single largest dragebarn Micky had seen during his time in Outremer. The broad green black wings tucked tight to his backs still brushed against both walls of the hallway. More alarming than the man’s sheer size was the uniform he wore, which reminded Micky of nothing so much as a Napoleonic Hussar. A blue velvet dolman stretched over his broad chest, adorned with thick silver ropes of braiding.
“Mr Andrews” he growled, the bass notes of his voice vibrating Micky’s chest. “A pleasure to see you again. May I take you coat?
“Thank you Erik” replied Blaes, handing the dinner jacket to the man who stepped back and hung it from a wooden stand set off the hallway.
Not for the first time Micky felt rather underdressed in comparison to Blaes.
“I hope you and your guest enjoy your time in the El Masri Mr Andrews” the dragebarn spoke a final time before opening a door at the far end of the hallway and ushering them into the club proper.
Micky hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect from a private members club, but the El Masri lived up to even his nebulous expectations. The hallway lead into a grand central hall populated by small rosewood tables and high-backed leather armchairs. A deep red carpet covered the floor while the walls were of ebony inlaid with brass and sliver.
“I do believe that Algernon will have taken his customary private room” said Blaes, leading Micky through the room towards one of the doors off to the side. Opening the door without hesitation, Blaes strode though.
Left standing in the doorway Micky had no choice but follow Blaes into the room. This room was decorated in a similar fashion to the main hall, but the single inhabitant could not have been any more different. The majority of members in the main hall had been wearing clothing similar to what Blaes was wearing, some variation on formal dinner wear, but there was none of that here. Almost disappearing into the cushions of the armchair was a diminutive figure in tan cargo shorts and a vest made entirely of pockets and pouches.
Swinging his bare feet off the table the man turned to Blaes. “Blaes, you posh old bugger, get over here!”
“It is good to see you Algernon, it has been far too long” Blaes replied, a warm smile on his face. “Before you get sidetracked old friend, I have a guest I need to introduce” he gestured to Micky.
“This wee scrap of a lad Is the one you thought would make a salvager? I ate studier bowls of porridge as a babe in arms.”
“His Skill and Class combination would make him a valuable addition to either of your salvage crews” Blaes replied.
Feeling thoroughly dismissed Micky took a step towards Algernon. “I’m right here mate, if you’re gonna talk about me you may as well do it to my face.”
Algernon laughed uproariously at this, a high tinny sound which echoed around the small room. “At least you’ve a bit over vinegar in you lad. Pull up a seat then and let’s talk.”
As Blaes sat gracefully Micky dropped into the other seat at the low set table with a graceless thud. Algernon drew three cut crystal glasses from a trolley beside the table and filled them with a dusky amber liquor.
“So tell me? Why go to be a salvager? It’s not the easiest work and only the best strike it rich?”
“I want to learn more about Outremer. I want to see this whole world and learn about the ‘verses beyond this one” Micky explained. “I thought about joining one of the Delving companies, but I don’t love the idea of fighting all the time.”
“Aye lad, those Merc lads are fair mental. For all that they’re needed they don’t necessarily see eye to eye with me and mine.”
“Huh, why’s that, I’d have thought you would have worked very closely with them” asked Micky, somewhat confused.
“It’s a difference of approach lad. I make my money learning about things that come through the convergences. The which is damn near impossible if the delvers blew the whole thing to buggery in the process of closing it.”
Pausing to sip at his drink Algernon sighed with contentment.
“So talk to me about your Stats. What am I working with here?” Algernon asked. Micky offered the man his left hand as he opened his menu to share his profile.
Name
Michael ‘ Micky’ Taylor
Level
1
Class
Bard
Hp
36 of 36
Sp
52 of 52
XP
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
0 of 500
Stats
Might
6
Grace
8
Will
13
Wisdom
9
Sway
15
Balance
10
“Its not completely BLEEED” Algernon admitted after seeing Micky’s Stats. “You’ve a decent Will, and more than enough sway for a fresh Level One. Might and Grace both need work but that’s not a dealbreaker. What about Skills?”
Skill
Rank
Cooking (mundane)
Novice (22)
Driving
Apprentice (37)
Evasion
Novice (14)
Performance (metal)
Novice (16)
Performance (shanty)
Apprentice (42)
Persuasion
Novice (18)
Research (magical)
Novice (1)
Research (mundane)
Novice (12)
Tackling
Novice (6)
Writing (academic)
Novice (32)
“The research and writing could be deal handy for the eggheads on the payroll, and the diggers wouldn’t mind the buffs a decent Bard can provide. You might be on to a winner here Blaes.”
“I merely seek to assist two friends with a single action” smiled Blaes as he drank slowly from his glass.
“Ok lad, what about abilities?”
Ability
Cost
Asess Information
Novice Rank (1)
Active: 5 SP per minute
Enhanced Tune Novice Rank (1)
Active: 7 SP per minute
Examine
Novice Rank (2)
Active: no cost
Decipher Text
Novice Rank (1)
Active: 15 SP per minute
Seeker of Truth
Novice Rank (1)
Active: 50 SP per use
“Cupboards a bit bare there isn’t it? You’ve only the one Class Ability and five eighths of BLEEP all combat ulitilty.”
“Yeah, I still need to find a proper Class trainer to teach me some Bard Abilities” Micky explained slowly. “There is this though”, he reached into his belt pouch to retrieve the plectrum before passing it over to Algernon.
There was a long pause as Algernon examined the plectrum before he handed it off to Blaes.
“There is this he says, lad do you have a BLEEPING clue what that is?” Algernon asked as his voice climbed an octave.”
“Yes Micky, this is rather an impressive artifact. However did you come by it?” Blaes followed Algernon’s question with one of his own.
“It’s a guitar pick, with a couple of bound Abilities” Micky explained, keeping his voice calm and steady. “I found it in a junk shop in the bazaar this afternoon.”
“In. A. Junk. Shop!” Algernon’s voice reached a near manic pitch before he burst out in a wheezing laugh.
“This is a most intriguing artifact Micky, but something this powerful should have been fabulously expensive. You said it was in the bazaar?”
“Yeah, the merchant who had it seemed to want to get rid of it, said it had been taking up shop space for too long or something.”
This last revelation was altogether too much for Algernon, who bathed the table in a fine spray of bourbon. “You’re BLEEPING kidding right?”
“Nope, scouts honor” Micky replied, “needs a Bard or an Evoker to use them though so the merchant hadn’t been able to use it for anything.”
“BLEEP it, you’ve got the Stats and the Skills, we’ll make the rest work out. Anyone with your BLEEPING luck has got to be good for business. You wanted a job, you’ve got one lad. Come by the compound tomorrow morning and we can sort the details.”