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Nulanos
‘Toloth’
Forty tons of gold
Part IV
-All trinkets hold value-
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Scaldingport
Late last month of winter 192
The small girl stared at her mother with gawking pleading eyes, drool running down the sides of her mouth. The mother, comely mouth pressed tight on a decent face –which bonded well for her daughter given her profession- hissed for a second time they needed to go. No pastry, or cake for her. The small corner bakery just outside the port’s gates keeping its door open despite the chill to entice those returning from the docks.
Or going, I suppose.
Most white cream covered pastries sold already with only four left in a glass bowl, but there was plenty of cake left, its large pieces hard by now but still eatable and glazed with strawberry jelly at the top. Not much strawberries in the jelly, but the taste was still pleasant judging by the smell.
The Issir baker stared at him unsure, Nulanos dark skin hinting at Issir lineage with something else mixed in. Nothing else was mixed in of course, but Nulanos wasn’t going to tell him that. The large rim of his hat shading his eyes.
“I’d like one of your pastries,” he said coolly and placed both his gloved hands on the narrow counter.
“It’s half a silver per pair,” the man lied, sensing he was a foreigner carrying a heavy purse. “Real goat milk in the cream and sugarcane syrup.”
Mmm.
He turned his left hand around and showed him the round gold coin under it.
“Keep a silver, but I want the rest in silver as well,” Nulanos told him in that same tone. The Baker nodded.
“I need to step in there to get my coin box. Keeping only coppers here,” he replied pointing at the open door behind him. The workshop and stoves clearly visible. “It’ll be a second.”
“Sure,” Nulanos agreed, the Baker stepped into his workshop and he returned in seconds with his box, just as his customer was fixing the large hat on his head casually.
“Here it is,” the Baker said giving him the change and taking the gold Eagle. He pushed two pastries from the large plate towards him and Nulanos picked them up carefully with both hands.
“Thank you for the trade,” he told him politely and the Issir nodded with a satisfied smile.
He walked out of the bakery and into the busy street leaving the port, paused for a moment to locate the slow walking mother and daughter, then headed after them. Nulanos ate one of the pastries en route, the taste decent, if a not bit undercooked and reached the two slow-walking females in less than a minute. He cut in front of them nimbly and smiled without splitting his lips.
“Ladies,” he said in a pleasant voice. “I believe you’ve forgotten something back there.”
“Ehm,” the mother murmured unsure, narrowing her eyes. Dark circles under them from working all those late hours. “I don’t think we have…” she paused seeing him offering the pastry to her daughter. The little girl taking it with a squeal and burying her cute face in it. “Mister…”
“Neil,” he helped her and removed his hat to get to the cake he’d hidden under it. “I believe this is yours.”
She stared at his blue-black short hair confused.
“You’re not an Issir,” she said and frowned. “I can’t—”
“What’s her name?” Nulanos asked flipping his hat and wearing it again.
“Evelin,” her mother murmured.
“It’s a gift,” Nulanos explained. “It worth little for me, but it means a lot to her. As for this,” he pointed at the slice of cake in his hand. “This will cost even less. A mere trade… Lady…”
“Liene,” she replied and glanced around them with a frown. They shared a name. A lovely gesture and an indictment for a missing father perhaps. “Mister Neil, ehm… perhaps later?”
“All I want is information,” Nulanos explained.
“What kind?”
“A ship moored this morning and is difficult to approach without drawing attention on my person,” he explained. He could have done it of easily course, but giving her the opportunity to trade, seemed the better tactic. “I’d like a name so I can use with the guards.”
Liene had worked the docks all night.
“Ido Tols, an Issir,” she said after a small moment of hesitation, the hint of blush on her dark cheeks. Nulanos gave her the cake and three silver coins.
“Thank you Mister Neil,” Liene gasped, adding hopefully. “We have a small place near the market.”
Ah.
“I have to see a man about a ship,” Nulanos replied, touching the rim of his hat. “Stay safe ladies, the port is full of crooks.”
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Ido Tols stared at the pirate that had brought him there and then at the silent Nulanos.
“Never seen ye afore,” he rustled, yellow eyes examining his long fine black coat and soft leather boots. Nulanos was a wiry, tall individual. “Mister Neil?”
“I’m looking to catch a ride to the Reefs,” he elucidated.
Ido raised a thick white brow. “We don’t run a traveling agency matey. Dis is a… merchant ship. Doing… trade stuff.”
The pirates standing near them nodding, smiling unconvincingly to sell it.
“Let me see, if I can trade for it,” Nulanos said raising his right hand, a silver coin lodged between mid and index finger, no numbers on it, or other markings, but a carved skeleton’s skull.
Ido stood back shocked. “You…,” he paused, scrunched his face and glared at him. “Where did you get this?”
“This? I got it from a man named Erlad, I think,” Nulanos replied calmly.
“Why didn’t you say you’re a friend of the Brotherhood?” Ido grunted.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve used it,” he explained. “Didn’t know if it was still good.”
“It ain’t milk to spoil mate. Well anyways, Erlad ye say hmm,” Ido said. “How long ago did you get it?”
“Years.”
“Ye don’t look that old.”
“Do I get to sail with…?” Nulanos’ voice trailed.
“The Black Eel,” Ido said, then added a little apprehensively. “We might change it to ‘Lucky’, for commercial reasons.”
Nulanos nodded. “It’s a good idea Captain Tols.”
“First Mate, ‘Calm’ Carson Zain captains the Black Eel,” Ido corrected him.
“Apologies, I shall strive to remember it,” Nulanos replied and flipped the coin on his hand, turning it to a simple silver, he then dropped in a small pocket at the side of his coat.
“No free cabin available,” Ido warned. “Ship is packed with grain and whiskey, just so ye know. It’s either that, or the deck.”
“I’ll find a corner on the deck,” Nulanos replied readily. “But I might want to taste that whiskey Mister Ido.”
“Haha,” the pirate guffawed more relaxed now. “Don’t we all matey. Don’t we all.”
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Four days later and two into another year, the weather brought heavy clouds over the nimble brigantine, but no rain, so Nulanos stayed on the deck to watch the sunset. Not much of it, but the change of colors on the clouds. Ido came to stand next to him under the small balcony of the quarterdeck, fine ebony pipe in hand lit.
“We be getting to the Reefs pretty soon,” he told him smoking with his eyes closed. “We need to wait for light though to enter the channel. It’s a bit tricky to attempt it in the dark.”
“All jobs are,” Nulanos agreed and glanced at his pipe. A small trinket. “Smells like Levacum tobacco,” he noted casually.
Ido nodded blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “Ye know yer tobacco Mister Neil.”
“One learns with time,” Nulanos replied.
“What brings you to Lord’s Burrow?”
“Pleasure?” Nulanos jested.
“Haha, yeah right,” Ido guffawed. “Yer a witty one. Get yer pipe out, I have some left.”
“You know, I think I forgot it someplace,” Nulanos said.
“Eh, more for me I guess,” Ido replied with a shrug.
“I have some Red Leaf though,” Nulanos tapped his pockets, pretending he was searching for it, then got the small wooden box out.
“Hmm, heard about it. Difficult to find on Jelin,” Ido said and eyed him as he opened the small lid. “Is that it?”
Nulanos got a couple of small dark spheres out, like beads. “It’s a pulp really, turned into these globules. You crash them into the bowl and well, the rest is easy.”
“Right.”
“Here,” Nulanos offered the two he’d gotten out to him. “You give it a try. Only take care not to be on duty for some hours. They make you sleepy the first couple of times.”
Make you envision things that are not there.
A dangerous thing when one walks a ship’s deck.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Haha, no shift till morning. Then it’ll be all hands on deck for the crossing,” Ido retorted and grabbed the beads with his free hand. “I’ll just try ‘em as you say and go get some shuteye.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Nulanos agreed with a thin smile. “See you in the morning Mister Tols.”
“Same Mister Neil.”
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They barely saw each other the next morning, what with Ido being busy navigating the ship through the narrows and Nulanos disappearing in the busy docks afore the Black Eel had even started unloading.
He walked around the pirate port for a couple of hours, familiarizing himself with the place. It had grown steadily since he’d last visited, but space in the surrounded by ridges of dark basalt opening was running out.
Nulanos spent the rest of the day visiting the different shops and venues, never staying anywhere for more than half an hour and keeping his purchases, or ‘trades’ to a minimum. With the night coming again, he stopped at the edge of the docks, nearer to the taverns and lit the ebony pipe he’d taken from a passed out Ido the previous night. The aromatic smoke helping him appreciate the lively pirate port in the warm winter night.
His eyes on an old head sitting on a bench overlooking the docks and the ships moored there. One of them badly damaged. The kind of damage that doesn’t happen from weather. With a disappointed sigh for he had missed its entry, Nulanos walked towards the old pirate and stopped next to him.
“A Kraken?” he jested and the old Lorian turned to look at him pensively.
“Atterton is dead,” the old pirate said. “Red went out captaining his ship and after he brought it back. A good one ‘Old Red’ was.”
Nulanos nodded.
“I just refilled it,” he told the old pirate and offered him the loaded ebony pipe.
“Hah, give it,” the man retorted with a smile, mouth sporting more gold teeth than real ones. “It smells wicked from here.”
“Aye,” Nulanos replied and went to light a stick from a nearby port lamp. He brought it back and gave it to the old pirate, the tip still smoldering. “What happened to the other ships?”
“No one has a clue yet. Word is Dawson might have gone under,” the pirate murmured and inhaled deeply with a grimace of satisfaction. “Darnit that’s some good shite me lad. What is it you do?”
“I’m in the trade,” Nulanos replied. “Anyone knows what they were after?”
“Nah, just rumors,” the old man replied. “Are you with anyone? Or are ye looking to join?”
“I run my own business,” Nulanos said and grimaced. “I was looking for a venue, owned by a Vale.”
“Is that so? Ye know Adele?”
“Is she close by?”
The man turned and pointed at the platforms three hundred meters from the west edge of the port. The road turning there and while dark had fallen over Lord’s Burrow, the neighborhood was well lit up and noisy.
“The brothel street?”
“Haha, Adele runs a tavern, the Purser,” the old seadog replied. “That’s a gods darn good blend ye got in here me lad,” he added. “Been a while since I’ve gotten me hands on the like.”
“Keep the pipe,” Nulanos replied and handed him the small box with the Red Leaf beads. “I appreciated the talk.”
“You sure? Why, ye have an old man’s gratitude,” the pirate looked at him. “Was nice talking to ye as well matey. Didn’t catch yer name.”
“It’s Neil, ‘Quick’ Finch,” Nulanos replied and old Hamil Finch stood back surprised, smoke covering his wrinkled head. “We’ve met briefly some time back.”
“By gods, I don’t remember ye son. Must be quite the time,” Finch murmured and Nulanos nodded with a small smile.
“Quite a time indeed Mister Finch,” he replied and tipped his hat, then turned and headed for the busy street in a roundabout way.
You were but a boy back then.
Drugged out of yer mind.
All trinkets hold value, but a precious few of them someone shall always appreciate more.
To trade is to correct the imbalance and place stuff into the proper hands.
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After taking his time to make sure no one had followed him and allowing the night to fully embrace the port, Nulanos finally strolled towards the lit up street, though there were plenty of dark spots and sinister side alleys all about, if one wanted to put forth the effort to find one. The harlots and the already inebriated pirates gathered at the ill-reputable establishments’ entrances arguing over prices. Comely wenches darting out of equally low-quality taverns to entice clients away using the same tricks and a couple of more serious groups discussing –grog in hand- about the days’ happenings.
The newest rumor being that another ship had returned in the time it had taken Nulanos to reach the Purser. Since thirty minutes wasn’t that long for the news to have spread so fast, so he guessed a bird had been sent midway to their return to warn the port of their imminent arrival.
Among other things.
His eyes found the label with the words on it, realized he’d already visited the place that morning and had a cup of decent beer in exchange for the cup, stopped at the last moment afore entering it again and stared two hundred meters away at the entrance of a two-story hostel opening abruptly. His trained, but also gifted, eyes easily picking up the young knight exiting, sword strapped on his waist and mail gleaming in the dark. He took a position at the entrance with a glance at the noise coming from the street Nulanos was dawdling.
Hmm.
There is another trinket in there. A fancy one and in the flesh.
Precious to some, reviled by others.
He made to step through the open door but paused again, the music coming from the tavern a horrible rendition/misappropriation of a song Valwarin had written some a hundred and twenty five years in the past, already a stupid tune then –made worse. Nulanos sighed, his hooded ears tuned in on the conversation a couple of pirates were having and made his third attempt to enter Vale’s tavern, when he spotted a familiar figure ducking into a side alley and stopped, this time giving up on his plan.
Luthos had given it his all to stop him and one should at least listen to the trickster god.
A second after Grim had slipped inside the alley, two shifty looking thugs had followed after him, a part of a crew of four that were shadowing the skillful thief.
Make that ten, Nulanos decided noticing a couple of more groups casting glances at the trying to hide in the shadows Grim.
Hmm.
And now those things the bird whispered are revealed.
Nulanos went by the open door, stooped adroitly to pick a hefty but worn out browcorn broom left just inside and next to a wooden pan, a hand opening his coat, the other sticking it under as he moved away from the tavern and towards the alley.
Never leave a place empty handed.
He turned the corner, an eye on the men casually approaching as well, but not paying him any attention, as they had seen him loitering around the venues since the morning, the other on the two thugs ten meters in front of him. Nulanos opened his stride, just as they slowed theirs to jump on a retreating Grim who had found the end of the alley –towards the inner ring of the city port- probably blocked by their friends.
Ah, Nigel, what did you do lad? He wondered a small smile forming on his mouth, whilst letting the front of his coat open fully and flipping the broom in his right arm, the shaft more than a hundred centimeters long and of thick wood, its end flat but battered and thinned out from all the sweeping.
Nigel paused seeing the two thugs approaching, long knives in hand and made to jump on a side wall, flip over the narrow alley and grab the lip of the wall across it, to escape on the roof.
“It’s a loose roofing,” Nulanos warned him, his voice ringing down the dark alley standing not a meter behind the two local ruffians. Grim recoiled with a gasp, lost his footing and almost run head first onto the wall. Eh. The thugs yelping and cursing at the same time startled, the one standing on his right twisting around to glare at Nulanos, the other just going after the stumbling Grim taking the opportunity.
The man that had turned around got the business end of the heavy broom at the left side of his face, the shaft breaking above the tail and his head snapping violently the other way. Nulanos flipped the shorter broomstick in his hand expertly, an eye on the dodging a knife Grim and used it again to guide the dizzy faltering thug towards the brick wall with the broken tip, after slotting it under the flaying man’s armpit. Gave him a good heave at the end, the thug’s cranium cracking with a solid bang that rattled the building and then collapsed like a sack laden with rocks.
Nulanos glanced at the entrance of the alley, saw light from torches approaching and danced forward, smacked the swinging knife out of the hand of the second thug with a brutal whack of the broomstick, Grim having his shortsword out already and swung at the groaning, more shocked than hurt ruffian, catching him right at the bridge of his nose.
And squashing it.
WHAM!
“Gaarggh—” the thug cried, his nose splattered on his distorted face, but Nulanos kept his focus flipped the broomstick again and speared him in the throat with it just enough to cut his groan short. He then planted it on his chest and shoved him backwards into Grim’s blade. The thief knifing him twice in the kidneys finishing him off.
Grim made to speak, but Nulanos cuffed him once upside the head to stop him, run two steps to the left and jumped lithely for the edge of the roof. He swung his legs around and climbed it, then turned and offered his hand to his pupil. A livid Grim grunted and followed his example, using Nulanos’ arm to climb next to him. Without speaking Nulanos run to other side of the dark roof, following the sturdier vertical rafters and avoiding the weakened planks. A cursing Grim following after him, stumbling twice afore his eyes got used to the more illuminated rooftop.
Nulanos reached the edge and jumped down the new alley, collided with a startled pissing squatted on her knees harlot, stopping her scream with a brief kiss and offering the broken shaft of the broom for the trade.
“Ehm,” the young harlot murmured, unsure whether to be embarrassed for getting caught with her skirts raised given her profession, or look to get more from the touchy customer other than a broomstick.
“Any place at the near serves black whiskey?” Nulanos asked her afore she’d time to decide, a silver coin gleaming between index and mid finger. The young harlot’s favorite trinket easy to guess. She snatched it out of his hand fast as a viper and smiled a rotten smile that solved Nulanos the riddle of their earlier kiss’ horrid aftertaste.
Ugh.
Nothing a cup of alcohol wouldn’t burn out.
Gods be willing.
“Dagger’s Sheath is right the corner, where I—”
“Leave that,” Nulanos cut her off with a perfect, but gnarly smile he couldn’t keep in. “Offer another.”
“The Silken Ferret?” The young woman guessed, apparently knowing few venues outside her ‘industry’.
“Run now little port bird,” Nulanos urged her with a light slap at her now covered buttocks. “See if anyone’s standing there and give us a good whistle for another silver.”
The harlot chuckled in delight and sprinted at the edge of the alley, Nulanos turning around and heading the other way briskly. Grim followed after him to the exit of the alley, through the second ring of Lord’s Burrow and into its now closed workshop street, where their own safehouse was located.
“Eight,” Nigel Grim hissed. “Luthos curse ye. What are you doin’ here?”
Toloth, the elder of Uruma Isle counted in the Old Tongue and paused afore starting again, long bronze rod in hand covered in gore. For each misdeed child. To balance the scales.
The Coal Isle mostly gone now, but for the still standing Coal Mountain according to that crook Ebe. Along most of the Mori-Zilan like the old goat.
And him of course.
Nulanos sighed, loosened the bindings on the drenched in sweat shirt he was wearing underneath his coat and stared at the half-asleep half-busy partying pirate port.
“They cut you off,” he explained austerely, as this was important. “Either Vale’s spawn, or the Brotherhood has betrayed you Nigel, put a hit on your head.”
“Shite,” Grim cursed furious. “Gods darnit,” he continued even more livid and kicked a rail breaking it off the platform. “That fucking bitch!”
“You’re fine,” Nulanos reminded him evenly. “It’s a good trade Nigel.”
“Eh,” Grim grimaced and stopped pacing the platform. “Van Fleet said the gold is gone allegedly. Vale went down with the ship.”
“Has everyone left his ship?” Nulanos asked.
“Only Van Fleet, he’s badly injured,” Grim murmured and then paused to narrow his eyes. “You don’t think… but the Pillager is too small!”
“Maybe not all is lost,” Nulanos replied. “Each one values a trinket differently. Is willing to do more or less to get it in the scales.”
“This is a god darn treasure… Eight,” Grim had paused to whisper the last part.
“To them perhaps. Do you think they killed Vale for it?”
“She’s like a bad rash,” Grim spat still unsure whether to like her or not, given he didn’t know who wanted him dead. “But I don’t see her leaving those coins behind.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?” Grim asked a little frustrated at the way his night had turned out. The score was important to him, since he intended to retire a rich man after it.
Nulanos had tried it several times in the past but his favorite trinket was the life itself and he just couldn’t let go.
“Nothing,” he replied and reached in his side pocket, got a worn out leather purse out and emptied it in his hand. A couple of silvers and twenty coppers in it. Grim crunched his jaw this way and that looking at the coins.
“That the thug’s?” he queried.
“Uhm,” Nulanos replied affirmatively. “More than enough for a meal and a nice drink, but nigh pitiful a sum for having a man of your stature killed,” he finished with a soft chuckle at how little Grim’s life was worth to those ruffians and the thief rolled his eyes exasperated at his leader’s weird sense of humor.
But it is, Nulanos thought still chuckling. Very entertaining.
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