Post by Lady Aslinn Draconis on Sept 15, 2010 8:34:47 GMT
Many came to Mercia; it was a large affluent city. Many seeking riches, others working to merely survive, while the lower class seemed to simply thrive. Honest pay for honest work. Though the law saw to those that wished to break such rules, but there was a higher court that allowed many things to go unchecked or just merely unnoticed. To these people it was a simple question of who could pay the higher price. For such dealings were seen to in the shadows of a local seedy tavern. High Lords, magistrates corrupted due to gambling debts unpaid. Many should be thrown in the stocks but that was not always the case.
For information that one had great need for. One would just have to pay the higher price. Of course this was the simplest of tasks for families with money. If one had enemies they merely had to simply provide the coin and the information. The selling of information was a dangerous game, one that tends to leave those that the information was about in ruins.
In the far reassesses of the local tavern a tall man dressed in a heavy hunter’s robe. Hood drawn in order to avoid detection, sat at a round table. In his company were two men of equal height. They too were dressed in dark robes though one donned brighter hues of fabric beneath, obviously a man of great wealth. It was places like this that one did not need to bump into someone. The seediness of the place left in question one’s character. Or so it was uttered. It was best to trust one’s ears to whispers then their back to shadows.
Ruffling their cloaks ever so slightly as they took up stool adjacent to the man. The two exchanged looks between themselves. Hardly anything needed to be said that a medium size pouch full of gold coins could express. A parchment was then slipped across to the man. When the tall man extended a hand to collect it. A hand clamped down upon his. A firm, narrowed gaze locked with him.
“Understand the importance of this sir.” It was explained. “My Lord wishes to remain at a distance. You have instructions to harm only those that oppose you. The woman, well you may rough her up if need be to make it appear true. But draw blood and it shall be on your head.”
The dark robed man’s gaze lifted and with a firm nod of his head he acknowledged the pair. His hand drew back. Within his hand the pouch of gold pieces. His payment was to frighten a young woman, until her rescuer comes and saves her. It was a foolish trick, but one that would work if the woman was feeble minded and naive. The question was simple. Would it work? With the right motivation she would come around.
For information that one had great need for. One would just have to pay the higher price. Of course this was the simplest of tasks for families with money. If one had enemies they merely had to simply provide the coin and the information. The selling of information was a dangerous game, one that tends to leave those that the information was about in ruins.
In the far reassesses of the local tavern a tall man dressed in a heavy hunter’s robe. Hood drawn in order to avoid detection, sat at a round table. In his company were two men of equal height. They too were dressed in dark robes though one donned brighter hues of fabric beneath, obviously a man of great wealth. It was places like this that one did not need to bump into someone. The seediness of the place left in question one’s character. Or so it was uttered. It was best to trust one’s ears to whispers then their back to shadows.
Ruffling their cloaks ever so slightly as they took up stool adjacent to the man. The two exchanged looks between themselves. Hardly anything needed to be said that a medium size pouch full of gold coins could express. A parchment was then slipped across to the man. When the tall man extended a hand to collect it. A hand clamped down upon his. A firm, narrowed gaze locked with him.
“Understand the importance of this sir.” It was explained. “My Lord wishes to remain at a distance. You have instructions to harm only those that oppose you. The woman, well you may rough her up if need be to make it appear true. But draw blood and it shall be on your head.”
The dark robed man’s gaze lifted and with a firm nod of his head he acknowledged the pair. His hand drew back. Within his hand the pouch of gold pieces. His payment was to frighten a young woman, until her rescuer comes and saves her. It was a foolish trick, but one that would work if the woman was feeble minded and naive. The question was simple. Would it work? With the right motivation she would come around.