The Drowned Winch was in its usual state for the evening. Quiet contemplative older sailors were sipping their drinks, some recording their thoughts. Perhaps for an inevitable memoir, or to send home to their family to remind them of their adventures across the sea.
The younger ones were drunk. Every kind of drunk. Stupid drunk, slumped against a wall and slurring every word that left their simpering mouths. The loud drunks had flocked around a table and were in the process of shouting sea shanties at the top of their longs. A few sleepy drunks were passed out face first on their tables, while a few others hand slumped onto the floor. All of them seemed to be having a good enough time.
Agatha Hargrave was here for none of them. Instead she was focused on two gentlemen sitting quietly in a corner. Her incorporeal companion had informed her of the pair earlier in the week. Niamh had simply told her out of idle boredom, having floated about Limsa Lominsa while Agatha had been spending days inside to come up with some sort of scheme.
A bit of idle watching had revealed the pair to be Garlean defectors. They had taken the opportunity to flee upon the Garlean's failures at the Praetorium, and had made a minor reputation among the locals by being rather open and honest about that fact. They weren't looking to repair past mistakes, and simply wanted to settle into a new life. Limsa Lominsa, with its rough going crowds already, had happened to be the perfect place to do so.
None of that particularly mattered to Agatha. What had interested her was that apparently they had spoken of a stockpile of crystals. And it just so happened that she desired a stockpile of crystals.
Her approach was swift, and purposeful. She drew up a chair and sat at their table with no invitation, and leaned in close so that she could whisper and still be heard.
"Gentlemen," she muttered, ignoring the look of annoyance the pair of them gave her.
On her left sat a roegadyn, a good deal taller than her. He was on the younger side, especially compared to the older hyur that sat across from him. The old man looked calm enough, and waved a hand at the roegadyn to hold off on drawing his weapon.
"Ma'am," the hyur said. There was a gruffness to it, but he remained polite.
"I do not wish to take up any more of your time than I already am," she said, trying to sound professional. "It has come to my attention, per some old reports, that you two know the location of an old stockpile of crystals." The reports were a lie, but a believable one.
The pair shared a look, the roegadyn in particular looking on edge now. The old man kept his cool, and leaned forward. He looked Agatha dead in the eyes as his fingers drummed on the table. "Aye, we might. Started hordin' 'em away from the local beasties so they couldn't summon eikons. What would it mean to you?"
"I've a need for them. There are those who are having issues with aether. I believe they would be useful to resolve such a matter."
The pair shared another look, this one longer, and much more communicative. The roegadyn nodded, and the hyur nodded in agreement.
"We'd had similar thoughts," the hyur said. "I take it you have plans on where to distribute."
"I do," Agatha said, "Will you be here in a few days time."
"Here every night," the roegadyn said, seeming proud of the fact.
"Aye," said the hyur.
"Good."
And with that she stood as quickly as she had sat down, returning the chair to its point of origin. She now had her source, now it was just a matter of adding in the slight curve of acquisition. She wanted a confused trail if anyone would attempt to follow.
A third party would be required.
No comments:
Post a Comment