Monday, May 2, 2011

Turn 2: Probabilities

Husz Chénu, after silently listening to the various propositions, and peripherally watching the two Shen and Cookie whispering together, looks somewhat annoyed and finally interrupts, almost whispering.

"My new friends, I will be utterly honest with you at the risk of my own loss of ego. I am in dire need of the 2000 Credits. Not that 2000 Credits is a large sum for me but I have a past due debt in the amount of 25000 Credits incurred at the Death Arena last week...the remainder of my assets are tied up in various properties and investments and I'm exactly 2000 Credits short of the 25. If I don't satisfy this obligation immediately, the cost will most likely be my right hand or worse...

Furthermore, I assure you that this particular site looks very promising and under better conditions I would ask for 5000 Credits and a 25% share or organize my own expedition. Although I cannot disclose the source from which I obtained the coordinates and the other details of the site, I am absolutely certain that this information remains privileged yet I cannot guarantee that it will remain so for more than a few days. If you are primarily concerned about my veracity and my intentions to treat you all fairly, allow me to set your minds at ease. I am a long time resident of the city and keep an office in the Old Quarter. You would have no difficulty in locating me should I attempt some subterfuge against you and feel free to inquire about the premises if you need testament to my good character.

It is most unfortunate for us all that you seem to be equally afflicted with pecuniary woes. I must go and attempt to peddle this prize elsewhere unless...

Perhaps you might be interested in intervening on my behalf with the individual that I am indebted to? Not that I am asking you to engage in a criminal act but if this individual was to meet with some, he is well connected, a nephew of the sub-Nar and I fear the prefecture of police might be motivated to actually investigate such an accident...

A better idea, one or several of you that might have a penchant for violence could be sponsored to fight in the Arena. There are matches tomorrow and I'm sure that earning a few thousand credits would be possible. I would even be willing to wager on the match and use my winnings to assist you in acquiring transportation and other supplies that you will need additional 10% share...

What do you say friends?"


  1. To Husz Chénu Arto says, “Good sir, please do not be too hasty. I must consult with my companions. If you excuse us a moment … .”

    Drawing Jesamin and Maxaml aside, he whispers, “Well, what say you, my friends? The fact that Ser Chénu admits to a weakness, and that he is well known within this town, inclines me to believe that we are less likely to be merrily led into a trap. As for the buy-in price, I am financially embarrassed at present, much to my shame and discomfort, and have but Cr40 in liquid currency to my name. But what I have, I am willing to stake if it is your wish to go on this adventure.”

    “I notice that the Shen appear to like Cookie. Perhaps if we were to invite him to join us, his newfound friends might be induced to join us as well, though I must admit that I know little of Shen and may be misunderstanding their reactions.”

  2. "I think your assessment of the situation may well be correct. However, we will need additional funds. I'm somewhat short on funds myself.

    Max pauses, scratching his chin. "I don't really like the idea of anyone fighting in the Death Arena. We will need everyone healthy for this expedition. Surely there is another way to raise some creds?

    Let's talk with Cookie and those other fellows. Maybe they have some ideas?"

  3. Jesmain shifts in her chair a little uncomfortably.

    She whispers, "I do *not* want to see any of you risk your lives in the Arena, though... (and she gazes at the other table)... those fellows over there might be more capable. But we hardly know *them*. I doubt that they will stake their lives on a mere rumor.

    "No, I do have some funds. Nowhere near enough to cover the whole amount, but it is something. I could put in at least 300 Cr and possibly up to 400 Cr, though that will leave me with very little.

    "No, we need to raise additional funds...

    "Or... perhaps this gentleman would like to dodge the ire of his debtors on the expedition with us. If it is as rich as he says it is, then surely he'll have enough to save skin after we all return."

  4. Sun stands up. "Tal, Tab.. and Cookie.. I suggest we go talk directly to the gentleman in question. As well as that trio over there who keep looking at us."

    Sungam strides over toward the trio and offers a mid-depth bow to the group. "My name is Sungam Bronn. Is there something I can do for you?"

  5. Cookie scratched his hairy face. These damn Iguana-birds were too smart. They were speaking in full sentences. Not only that, they were using logic to analyze what Cookie had said and not fighting each other to the death for the pickles. This was very strange indeed. Perhaps . . .

    The old man squinted, looking all over the bodies of the two Shen. He could see no zippers. That settled the matter. If he couldn't see zippers, they Iguana-bird's must actually be humans in Iguana-bird costumes - but not only that - they were obviously secret agents.

    "Sorry fellers, I didn't realize you were all incognito and everything. I understand," he gave the two a big wink and nudged Tabash with his elbow. "You probably wouldn't be interested in anything as mundane as a salvage op, so I apologize. But you sure are welcome to tag along. You make an good point about that Chenu fella - he's probably a bit shady. But I did put the fear of God into him with my liver threat, so I trust he'll be civil."

    Cookie pulled another jar out of his apron. "I've got plenty of pickles in back. We deep fry them around these parts. Spicy batter. The pâté we have is made of that vat grown plant liver substitute. Nasty stuff. I wouldn't feed it to people I liked. But if you folks happen to tag along, out in the wilderness we can round up some of those little dust-beavers. Nasty little buggers. But they have a very succulent organs. Now their livers make a fine pâté if they've been munching on juniper berries. Old earth plant. Gives a nice twang to the meat."

    He turned to Sungram, "You look real familiar, Golden Boy, come to think of it? Oh yes, I remember. Frez. My youngest boy's wife's brother. Why Frez, I didn't think I'd see you around these parts, with you being dead and everything. Thirty years now? So, are you in the service with these two secret agents now? Sorry I was trying to shake you down there just then. As you know, I need the money." Cookie leaned over to Sungram and whispered loudly, "Honestly, I think I'm getting a bit old. My mind wanders and I forget who people are sometimes. But don't worry, Frez, it's just for short periods of time," He patted Sungram on the back.

    Cookie stepped back to address all three. "I'd love to see my family before I die of old age, and this job is probably my last chance at raising the funds to see them again. Honestly, I'm not good as I used to be with figures and bargaining. The numbers on money confuse me sometimes. If you'd like to take a little time out of your secret agenting, I could sure use the likes of you big strong boys. I have a good eye for technology, so I think we can make a hefty profit and the three of you can get some gambling money to use in them fancy spy casinos. So what do you say we go talk to Mister Fancy-pants - and you fellers can take the lead on bargaining. Then I'll crack open the pickle barrel."

    After he finished talking, Cookie realized that the group had already left to talk to Chénu, so he hobbled on after them.

    - Ark

  6. We both follow Sun over to the other table. We are curious what all is going on, and why they seem to be so interested in the four of us.

    We are very intrigued by the notion of hunting dust-beavers. Pate sounds good right about now.

    Sun seems to have some idea, or at least a hunch about these people. We'll go along and listen. Maybe there'll be money, or pickles or even pate involved...