new_canton | 6-26-1043 Anderson Sharug

Semael arose early from his bed at the inn. He hoped to get some time with Anderson Sharug before there were many people on the street. He also knew that Anders always got an early start on the morning in order to get as much done as possible before he had to mind the shop.

In the common room Semael invited his companions along if they were interested, then grabbed a butt of fresh sour dough and a bit of sharp cheddar to eat for breakfast on the way. The sun was just beginning to show above the trees as Semael began to walk down the street. The town was still quiet. Down the alleys a few bedpans were being emptied as people began to stir but was overridden by the smell of fresh bread coming from every inn and pastry shop along the road.

As he rounded the corner onto Smith street, the hammers and billows of the various smithies worked together sounding like an army fighting a heavy breathing dragon. Half way down the street was the smaller smithy run by Anderson Sharug. He was at the anvil working a piece of metal with surprising finesse, coaxing it into any shape he desired with a few strikes of his hammer.

Semael entered the shop, somewhat anxious about the reaction he would get, but of course none of that showed in his body language. Anderson had taken a beating, and Semael felt partially responsible. The wounds had healed some in the few days that had passed, but it was obvious there was lingering soreness. Semael began to feel a little guilty for not coming earlier, but hoped Anderson would understand that it was an attempt to keep from betraying their professional relationship.

"Anders," Semael said between hammer strokes, catching his attention, "I was very concerned when I heard you had been kidnapped. I managed to get what I believe is the story from another source, and I apologize if you feel that myself or my friends are responsible. I hope that our taking care of Hacksaw will give you some reprieve. I don't want to cause you any undue trouble or unwanted attention. I would like to continue to honor our agreement if you feel it is still beneficial to you, but I understand if you feel the need to reconsider." Semael said with the calmness, empathy, and sell assurance only a deva could manage.

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Lately, Neh-tohon has been distracted by dreams and memories of the clans and life as a slave so he initially missed Semeal's entrance and his comments. Ever the perceptive bloke, he quickly fills in the gaps and gives the party a wink as he disappears out the rear exit of the inn. Despite the fact it is mid-day, Neh-tohon is a ghost on the streets. He passes a pair that don't notice him as edges behind them while they are making racist comments about a halfling street performer. Silently, as he slips by the nudges the man's mead all over his friend and is off before the later begins pummeling the confused loud mouth.

The prank lightens his spirits and distracts him enough from his own thoughts before he reaches the blacksmith. Unnoticed he sleeks around to the rear of the shop near the anvil and forge. The steam, heat from the forge, and the soot stained alley provide wonderful camouflage for his watch. For a few hours he remains at his perch, the lack of movement would have driven most men and women to collapse but Neh's monk training make the task easy. The wait finally pays off.

The bell above the shop’s entrance chimes. Neh-tohon takes in a silent yet deep breath. With the breath he blocks out ever other sensation, the heat of the forge, the cackling of children at play only a few doors down, the crinkling of embers, all else goes quiet as he strains to hear sounds from the front of the store. As his ears stalk after his prey, a voice stands out. Oddly it is only one voice; he knows the old man was watching the counter, but why isn’t he speaking. A question for another time, he can’t let the only voice escape him. It is a woman, and she’s whispering. She is an elusive one. Like the trickster hares of mountains, she tries to mask her call in the ambient noise. “The patient hunter with time can catch the hare.” The voice of his Neh-tohon’s father interrupts his thoughts. So, he waits and teases out the sounds. Whispers and muffles they maybe but there are clues there also. Her comments are slowing and he can tell the end is near; just a few more words is all he needs. “Semeal, Neh-tohon, Balint, and Jesse.” She said in concluding her monologue. The embers start popping more as Neh-tohon is forced by his shock to utter, “Ruby.” A plume of smoke rises and a timber buckles in two at the word. The bell rings again and Neh-tohon waits.

A minute passes and Elder Sharug walks to the forge and begins to work a piece of blackened iron n. Halfway through the routine he stops. Frustration shadows his face as he sweats and begins to finger a pendant. Neh-tohon stares at the curious object aware that the trinket not the iron is somehow the source of his frustration.

She knew that this entire thing could backfire right in her face and blow her cover, but it was a good move. She had awoken with it in the middle of the night. It wasn't fully formed, just the conclusion hanging in the darkness. She latched onto it, followed it backwards, a piece of yarn leading to this moment. Of course, this was also the moment when the yarn could fray, or worse yet, burn.

"I understand your concern. I assure you that you'll have protecti-" her sentence stops as if she's been interrupted, but the blacksmith hadn't spoken. Obviously agitated she waits as he fingers his pendant, his eyes glaring at her accusingly.

"I know, and that was...unfortunate. I wish I could have done more than the pendant for what happened to you. I am still not sure how they found out about your connection."

Lying was easy for Ruby. Ever since she was a child. Of course, this wasn't completely unexpected, being what she was. She definitely had the connections to heal the blacksmiths tongue, but that would require letting go of the string. She had followed the string back this far, she needed to return to its conclusion. She reminded herself it was worth it.

"Much has changed since then." Ruby continues on, "Judge Judith will be giving the adventurers a specific title and responsibility." Again she felt interrupted, but she pressed on. "I promise you, you won't be in danger if you continue with this deal. No more danger than simply still living after Harken had gotten to you."

She turns towards the exit and sniffs the air. Someone was there. In the alley, but she couldn't make them out. Obviously the tail was good if it had snuck past her and stayed hidden this long. She'll need to deal with it. Or maybe the tail wasn't for her, but for Sharug.

Quickly, she picks up her pace and hurries down the street, instantly getting lost in the crowd. She doesn't reappear until she's standing in front of the inn that she used as a meeting spot for the adventurers. She hadn't given them a job, and the Dark Lady knows they wouldn't find one on their own. They had to be in there, and hopefully they could hurry back to the Anderson Sharug. His life depended on it.

After watching Sharug work the anvil for an hour. He returns to the shop to shut it down for the day. Neh-tohon figures he's got all the information he can for the day and that his friends need to know about Ruby's involvement with Sharug, so he returns to the inn and reports to his friends what he heard and saw.

-=Halting=-

Ruby should get to the others before you. We'll let them each post before you show up again.

Continuation of this story should be done in the AM thread below.

6-26-1043 Anderson Sharug

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