Legend of Ransera

The Market
27th of Searing, Year 122 Steel

Aurin grunted as he twisted, stretching sore muscles, before taking a seat at the bar, his back to the wall so he could keep an eye on his surroundings. He figured he was safe enough among the covens. If they were going to kill him, well, they outnumbered him and he was on their turf. But it seemed as though they were coming to accept him. Even now, he had another meeting scheduled. This pub was less intoxicating than the domain of the Myshalarai, but he wanted to keep his wits about him in any case. They had been more forthcoming, at least, which spoke to a growing rapport and trust. He had been told a representative of the Railrunners and another from the Kindred would meet with him.

It had occurred to him that, if he was successful, they might have to work out a schedule for his initiations. Masquerade and Semblance had been awful, mostly because they came simultaneously and he was fed some alchemical solution to blunt the effects of threshold sickness that only made it worse in some ways. But as long as they accepted him, he would consider it a win. With the largesse of the First Minister, he ought to be able to travel freely between the cities depsite the growing tensions; he could get his hands dirty helping targeted coven witches out, and perhaps they would complete initiation when he got them safely to Kalzasi.

There were plenty of ways things could go, though he supposed if things went well with the Railrunners, that ought to be his priority given he was trying to become a terminus for their underground railroad.

But he tried not to overthink things before there was something to think about. His eyes surveyed the room, wondering from whence his contacts would come.

A contract he understood. Valencia he knew. This was a less unsettling meeting than he had shared with Eshar of the Myshalarai. But now he was one of them, and now he had the Whispers following him around. Some, perhaps, wanted to ensure he made good on their bargain; others, perhaps, wanted to make sure he survived to do so. One of Jacq's was leaning against the bar, keeping an eye on him and everything. But that only helped him relax a mite.

There was magic in the parchment, in the pen, in the women at his table and the people all around. After introducing him to the Kindred and explaining the changes in the contract, Valencia was silent.

His eyes shot up as the women communicated, and he peered at the empty seat, sensing the shift in the aether before the Wild thing appeared.

He blinked.

"Good day, Muin," he said, unsure whether he ought to shake its limb or not. "Sacred?"

Aurin sounded dubious, looking from Muin to Farza.

"I don't know that I do," he admitted. "Life taught me to look out for myself because nobody else would. But I have people now... and they are sacred to me, I suppose. I don't know if that word is correct. I'm not a religious man. But you care about one person, you have to care about more people, and I've found that circle expanding. The Myshalarai have taken me in. The Grymalka have accepted me. Sort of. I don't love them, but they are my people now, as well. I grew up in cities, but... now I regularly take my people out into the green places. My boy has a garden and it... hm, it's peaceful to sit out there as the sun is going down, the wolf pup patroling for small game. His friend is a summoner... apparently his garden is a sanctuary for spirits and... life."

He shrugged. He hadn't seen it, but Torin spoke of it almost reverentially. Aurin rather thought the Kindred would take a shine to the elf.

"Ah... he's a friend of Urs' as well. You might ask him more. Sorry, didn't mean to deflect. I think the answer is... I'm starting to. I don't know if that's an acceptable answer."

"Thank you, Muin, Farza. I would consider it an honor to have you as friends." The man was, oddly enough, serious. "I will certainly carry your greetings to Kalzasi, or if you would commit them to paper, I can carry them when I leave. The courier business is slightly less dangerous than playing Myshalarai games."

They would find him a strange bird, no doubt. He was now Myshalarai, but preferred to blend into the background and only strike when necessary. He was accepted by the Grymalka, but ignored the ghosts in his own life. When he signed this document and received a Rune, he would be a Railrunner, but he didn't travel as much as he used to. He wondered what it might mean to be a friend of the Kindred; they hadn't offered him their trick, but that was all right. They were friends and he was already doing them a service. That could build into a working relationship.

Aurin watched them depart, then turned back to Valencia.

"I was raised by a contract killer, but it's not my true profession. Information. Connections. I know I'm unexpected and brash, coming in here wanting to become a member of every coven of note." He shrugged. "Fortune favors the bold, I suppose. Also, these are interesting times, eh?"

His eyes continued to peruse the document. So far, he hadn't found anything to protest.

"As for connections, I know a particularly talented runeforger. He works with the summoner who... is also a alchemist and artificer. They seem to be going in together to create new wonders. If the covens need things... at least, I haven't heard of any major coven who crafts artefacts. Well, I have an in on them and I could smuggle them into the Market. I would just have to assure him that they would not be used against Kalzasern citizens, only the Order or in self-defense. That sort of thing."

Aurin would broker a deal for Torin, but if he could, he would let Torin be the connection with Sivan if the Kindred wanted a Summoner in Kalzasi, with Kala if the Grymalka wanted a Necromancer. Mists, if Arry and his minstrel hadn't left the continent, he might have tried to get them involved in all this.

"All right. You don't want my firstborn... You seem to be protecting me as well as yourselves, which is gratifying." He looked up. He hoped that once he proved himself, they could dissolve this contract and just treat him like any other Railrunner, but if not, it wasn't so odious a yoke. He twirled the amber stylus about between his fingers; its clear magical purpose had made him want to ask questions about runeforgers in the city, but he would have time to learn.

"Without further ado, then..."

Aurin signed the contract.

To Aurin's mind, the problem of the Order of Reconciliation was already his problem. He was Myshalarai now, and part of him wondered whether Myshala Herself would come sniffing after him at some point. His coven did revere her and while he wasn't particularly religious, he did believe the Dragon Gods and Mistlords existed. He didn't want to get on her bad side. And anyway, even as far as Kalzasi where their dogma was disregarded, the Order had most likely engineered the attack on Torin's minstrel friend. They were acting with impunity on his doorstep, and he wouldn't allow them to keep their foothold in what had become his home if he could help it, not so close to his people.

And now these were his people too. This was a great deal of responsibility, but it came with a great deal of power and spun the threads of his spiderweb of a network ever farther and wider. It gave him the ability to more carefully tend to his home and his people.

But he didn't disagree. He just nodded along with all she said, agreeing in general, though she didn't seem to want to delve too deeply into details just yet.

She took the contract and the magical stylus, and he didn't resist. He could sense the bonds tightening around him, but he also sensed the strength this contract would give him. She was now bound to mark him or see him initiated in the Railrunners' mysteries. Aurin had given, and he would receive. That settled onto his shoulders and he didn't bother hiding the nerves he felt with glamour or willpower.

"I've survived three," he said, "so I'm made of stern enough stuff, I think. But I know it's more of an art than a science, so I'm not foolish enough to think there's no risk. But now... we trust one another. We're bound. I know you will do right by me, and I will show you that I will do right by you. I suppose the contract just gives us a bit more confidence in each other." He smirked at her innuendo, but neither confirmed nor denied it. People did like to assume quite a bit about his sex life, and most people would be disappointed in some ways, perhaps titillated in others.

"Ah, do you have any advice about that?" he asked when she mentioned placement. He stood and nodded toward the door. Aurin would precede her if she insisted, but contract or no, he didn't like turning his back on people. "I have the entire day set aside for this meeting and whatever might come of it, so I'm at your disposal." When they were upstairs and in private, he doffed his clothes down to the waist, not to seduce or impress, but to show her his others. Masquerade hidden under his right bicep, now with a new shape within it, reminiscent of a stylized rose. Semblance under his left bicep. Negation on his right shoulder.

"I suppose left shoulder for symmetry, but..." He shrugged.

"I... don't want to be an experiment, but I would be interested to know what happens to the person you mark on the eye." He paused, then smirked, but it wasn't so sharp as before. He wasn't negotiating, wasn't playing a game on shifting sand. They had an accord and he knew how far he could trust her and her coven, though, of course, one couldn't always account for every single person's possible actions. He was curious about her amber pen, as well, but he supposed it wasn't time to ask about artifacts yet. But perhaps he would be able to give Torin some idea of the wonders he was seeing in order to help his boy engineer new wonders of his own—his wonder boy.

"I don't know who gave me the first two; I was not fully aware, though I suppose I must have been aware enough to consent or it wouldn't have worked... at least as I understand these things. They were less concerned with me surviving, I think. I got them both at the same time, and was pumped fully of alchemical... things to make the threshold sickness less likely to be fatal, but... well, awful in different ways. The third came from Talon Novalys... Or Arcas if you believe in reincarnation. In order to safeguard a dangerous artifact. I don't know if his skill and power had anything to do with it, but I definitely grew in power with that one much more quickly."

Aurin didn't know if it was his sharing that got him the lesson, but sitting there, he was able to connect what she said with things he hadn't been able to articulate about his other tricks. He tried not to feel stupid, but he also wondered if Torin would sit down and teach him magical theory, and perhaps even his elven friend would deign to inform the man who had only gone to the school of hard knocks before.

"Thank you for that," he said without irony or sarcasm after she answered one of his many, many questions. "That will really help, I think. I won't be blipping around any time soon, but perhaps I can easily sneak into town for the midwinter meeting or something." He was going to have to do some traveling, the better to map out the slipspace in his mind. Eventually, he might be able to oversee an empire called Portions for Foxes if communication and movement could be nigh instantaneous. It was a wonder the Railrunners weren't more powerful. Perhaps he could help them become so. Perhaps, the covens might become cells of his business in a sort of symbiotic relationship.

But that was getting ahead of himself.

"I have seen the slipspace, I think. My Semblance trick is strong, but I don't... always know what I'm looking at. Perhaps that will help me, though. All right, well. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

The fox swallowed his nerves and turned his left shoulder toward her so she could do her thing if she was ready, as well.