A day in the life... (Introduction to the Black Market fic)

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JoshuaDurron
 

A day in the life... (Introduction to the Black Market fic)

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Wed Oct 08, 2003 11:29 am

(Note: These events take place on the same day that the Pit Lord Elite, or whatever they are now, left Doma city.)

Boreas, or 'Ree', was reclining comfortably in the back room of the Sow's Ear, their usual rondevue bar in Doma, and waiting for his lieutenants to arrive. His little expirement in crime had been going for only a hand full of days, and already they had made a fair deal of money. But he foresaw that ending soon, if precautions weren't taken. Ree was musing over these facts when the door opened and a large, muscular looking nekojin was shown in. Mri'jal had arrived first. No surprise there.

Ree motioned to his right hand neko, indicating that he should sit down, which he did. As he unslung the long, wrapped bundle that contained his weapon and leaned it against the wall, he asked, "So, boss, what arrre we discussing today? Public rrrelations? Prrrices? Who to bully into accepting ourrr prrrices and who not to?"

The drow shook his head in reply. "Nothing of the sort, my dear boy. It's a matter a little more important than that. I'll explain once the others arrive."

"Otherrrs? All of them?" Mri'jal asked, obviously surprised. Ree nodded. All four of the black market's coordinators hadn't met simultaneously with it's mastermind since it had hastily been organized a week ago. The plan had been to avoid getting them all in one place again so as to avoid suspicion. Both men knew this, and both knew that if Boreas, the most cautious of all people, had called them together, then there must be a good reason.

The exchange had barely been completed, and it's implications digested, before another person was shown in. While Mri'jal was a tall and imposing nekojin, he was still dwarfed by the figure who entered. Hrimm was a kumajin, with all the size and muscular development you would expect from a member of that bearlike race. A large sack dangled from his shoulder, which Ree did not doubt contained his deadly repeating crossbow. The drow found himself reflecting absently that he was probably the most wanted person in this group, yet also the only one who didn't walk about armed most of the time.

Hrimm wordlessly took a seat next to Mri'jal, nodding his greetings to his boss, and to his fellow lieutenant. A companionable silence fell over the room as the three men waited for their other two companions to arrive.

Looking at the two sitting next to each other, Ree found it incredible how well they got along. The were, after all, very different. Mri'jal was built in a very compact manner, much like a spring, but Hrimm was tall and rangy, more like an unbending suit of armor. Mri'jal had been raised in the desert and was always cold, hence his ever-present jacket over his coveralls. Hrimm, on the other hand, was raised in the mountains, and so used to cold that he never put anything over his baggy shorts and short sleeved shirts except in the very dead of winter.

Their first encounter hadn't encuraged things any, either. When they had first run into each other, they had litterally run into each other. In the ensuing confrontation, Mri'jal, much to Hrimm's surprise, left the field with the honor of stronger man, leaving the Kumajin very dizzy, and with a major bump on his forhead. What the nekojin didn't realize until later was that Hrimm had left the field with his wallet. But despite, or perhaps because, of the nature of their first meeting, the two had later formed a friendly alliance before eventually working their way into Ree's circle of influence.

The drow's musing was interrupted as the door opened a third time and the Ear's proprieter showed in their final two companions. One was a tall, striking woman with shoulder length silver-green hair. Nai Resh had siren blood in her viens, and it showed. In fact, Ree and Nai had had a... relationship in the past, one which left the two still friends when it ended, despite the fact that her brash personality grated on him at times. When he had needed a person to put in charge of the thieving portion of his opperation, he had known who he could turn too, for both efficiency and power. The drow had no doubt the siren woman carried her sai's concealed somewhere on her person, either within the folds of her blue shirt or under the flared legs of her pants which covered her boot tops.

The second person was a woman known merely as Amanda. She was the only human member of the black market's high rankers, but, like the rest of them, she had her own oddities. Like, despite the fact that she was a mage, she carried a massive warhammer with her most of the time. And, while it was not with her now, she was by no means unarmed, as the 'magic inhibiting collar' she wore was actually one of the market's expertly produced forgeries. Amanda the black mage was quite capable of using her magic, thank you very much. The other odd thing of note was the fact that she was missing her left arm. While Ree had no doubts this somehow effected her turning to a life of crime, she had never seen fit to share what had happened with anyone the drow could get information from.

The two women took resting places from the selection of comfortable seating their hide away provided, and turned to look at Ree. The drow, in turn, took a moment to survey his collection of people.

A nekojin who's speech impedment had made him the target of ridicule, both from other races and his own. A kumajin who had forsaken his people's way of life to study mathmatics. A siren who's personality was more like an abbrasive security chief's than a soothing woman's. And a mage who appeared so small and frail, yet contained enough bottled energy to break a demon's curse.

And their leader, a drow who knew almost nothing about the way his 'kin' lived, and didn't really give a damn, even if people did stigmatize him with it. Getting all of them together had been a tremendous effort, one he almost hadn't been willing to make. But, damn it all if this wasn't going to be fun!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've called you together to discuss this little game we've decided to play with the law. I think that we've gotten our team ready. Now it's time to discuss the competition."

To Be Continued... <p>

English does not have a word for what you do to do a dead thing to make it stop chasing you. Clearly, you cannot kill that which is dead. But until Mr. Webster comes up with replacement, we are forced to render dead that which is dead. - Just Call Me Fed


The man wants a new pair of pants. What's wrong with that? - Crawling Reshiki</p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=joshuadurron>JoshuaDurron</A] at: 10/8/03 3:17 pm

JoshuaDurron
 

ONWARDS! =D

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Fri Oct 10, 2003 1:26 am

"The competition?" Mri'jal was the first to answer, as he had been first to arrive. "You mean the demon guarrrds?"

Ree shook his head. "No. I mean people competing with us, marketwise."

Hrimm spoke up, his deep rumbling voice filling the room. "What do you mean? We've been doing well in all aspects of sales."

Again, Ree shook his head. "In terms of raw profits, yes. We've been making money off everything, weapons, potions, the whole bucket. But our biggest items so far have been forged collars, collar removal, and sacred water. In fact, they make up two thirds of all our takings. But demand for those services won't last forever. Potions haven't been moving well, and other services, such as smuggling, haven't lost us any money because they haven't been asked for, and we currently have other productive things for those people to do. But when the demand dries up, they'll just be a drain on our resources, yet still one we can't afford to cut. Thus, unless we manage to get people using those services, and soon, we'll be in trouble, and that sometime in the very near future."

"Bah," Nai burst in with one of her typical flippant noises. "Everyone needs potions and the like at some time or another. Sooner or later, the supply that was in the city'll dry up, and people will have to start coming to us."

But Hrimm was shaking his head. "We already passed the maximum time period for that point to fall into two days ago. I calculated it myself. But on that day, we didn't sell more than a dozen. People simply aren't yet willing to pay our prices, or they haven't heard of us yet."

Silence greeted that statement, until Amanda broke it by simply saying, "Or, they've found an easier way to get what they need."

Ree nodded. "Exactly. Someone in this city either has connections to the outside, or is making potions and procuring weapons themselves, in quantities sufficent that they can undersell us, and at the same time being better known to the more... adventerous crowd than we are."

Mri'jal stood up and stretched casually. "Then what we need to do is find them ourrrselves."

Ree nodded. "That's what I want the four of you to concentrate on. Once you feel you've got something, meet me back here. I'll drop by every day at this time, starting tomorrow, to see if any of you have found anything. Best of luck."

The room emptied out, and Ree headed back towards his small house. If all went well, that was all the work he'd have to do for the day. <p>

English does not have a word for what you do to do a dead thing to make it stop chasing you. Clearly, you cannot kill that which is dead. But until Mr. Webster comes up with replacement, we are forced to render dead that which is dead. - Just Call Me Fed


The man wants a new pair of pants. What's wrong with that? - Crawling Reshiki</p>

Uncle Pervy
 

Re: ONWARDS! =D

Unread postby Uncle Pervy » Fri Oct 10, 2003 7:45 pm

This intrigues me. Keep going. <p>------------------
Greetings, large black person. Let us not forget to form a team up together and go into the country to inflict the pain of our karate feets on some ass of the giant lizard person.
</p>

JoshuaDurron
 

A moment of complete irrelivence?

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:53 am

((Note: Spob has actually made contact with the black market. That is all.))

"Leftsider?"

Nai the Siren Half turned from her discussion with one of her scouts, who had been out investigating the city's guard configurations, to see one of her subordinates on the so-called 'review board' in charge of approving potential customers. "Yes, what is it?" She demanded.

"We've been contacted by an interesting case. We're not quite sure what to make of it." The subordinate offered her a stack of papers, which she snatched and began scanning over. "As you can see," the man rambled on, "he is technically a buisness owner, but he's not been in charge of his shop all that long, and we've had no chance to observe his dealings. But-"

"Yes, I see," she cut him off. "But his connection with the previous owner is enough to get him a second go. I'll have someone look into it. In fact, it says here that he's been seen around the Ivory Horn alot, especially of late." She was tapping her fingers absently on the papers. After a moment, she summoned one of her 'tavern spelunkers', people who she employed specifically to gather intelligence in drinking establishments. It was early enough in the day that he wouldn't have departed to make his rounds yet.

The dwarf came sauntering up, running his fingers through his beard. "So, good lookin', what can I do for you?"

Nai almost chewed him out for not addressing her properly, but at the last moment stopped herself. She hadn't much cared for the code name Ree had assigned her for use in the opperation. It struck her as if it was meant as a joke, to augment his Nekojin friend who he called 'Righty'. Or, too, it could be one of his even-more subtle attempts to get under her skin, something he had enjoyed doing even when they had been involved. Regardless, it suddenly occured to her that the failure to use her 'proper title' didn't really bother her. It also occured to her that she had been standing there without answering the dwarf for nearly ten seconds, and that she was beginning to look a tad strange. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she addressed him. "You spend a lot of time at the Ivory Horn on your routes, yes?"

The dwarf nodded. "I spend my fair share at the Horn, yeah. It's a nice place, and its got good booze."

"Tell me what you know," she paused a moment and made sure she had the somewhat unusual name correct, "about 'Spob'."

"Spob?" The dwarf laughed. "Well, he's trustworthy enough, if that's what you're concerned about. Up until recent, his sister ran a shop that was on my good side. I understand she trusted him completely. He's got no reason to be blabbin' about us to the demons. But beyond that, I dunno much."

Nai nodded. That was enough for her, and the original gut impression she got from what she saw on the papers before her seemed to be confirmed. "Alright, thanks. You're free to go." She waved the dwarf off, turning back to the guy who had brought the problem up in the first place. "He seems OK. For now, we'll give him the green light. But tell Righty to keep an eye on this guy when he meets with him. First rule of crime is, 'Don't trust anyone.'"

With a nod, the man moved off and left Nai's thoughts entirely. She had to figure out some way to track down the bastards who were cutting into their action. But how?

The question continued to bother her for the rest of the day... <p>

"Strenghten your lyre and sing
The hymn of death
The sky opens to us
They fly to the ray"

-Cante per me, Kajiura Yuki</p>

JoshuaDurron
 

HE IS INSPIRED! =D

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Mon Oct 13, 2003 11:26 am

Over the roofs of Doma at night, a deep voice was heared saying,

"The stars rise at night
To shed their light
Decide the fates of men
Then are gone again."

Hrimm lay stretched out on his roof, gazing up into the night sky. Since the occupation of Doma, and the general decrease of ambient noise and such during the nights, star watching had become a much more enjoyable hobby. In his youth, he had loved to sit outside and watch as the stars drifted over the treetops, the old rhyme he had just recited running over and over through his brain. When he had first come to Doma, he had been glad to see all his old friends still up there in the sky. The stars do not change.

Unlike life. Two weeks ago he had been a third rate bookie, struggling to stay afloat after the 'retirement' of one of Doma's formost gambling kingpins. A week ago, he had been recruited by that same kingpin, with the offer to stop managing the game and start playing it. At the time, he had been willing to bet that life couldn't get much better. Now, he was sure. The Boss (who he knew only by assumed names) had done something unprecedented. He had made an error of some sort, failing to properly gauge the resistance his venture would meet. He was asking his friends to try and sort it out, but if the Boss couldn't handle it... Hrimm had little confidence in his own abilities. And so he had come to the roof tops once more, to consult with his old friends the stars.

Stars were wonderful things, he reflected. They were always there, always in their own, familiar patterns. They predated all known civilization, and they would doubtless still be there once the current one had fallen. They glimmered in the sky like precious jewels, untold wealth belonging to whoever would bother to look towards them, countless coins glittering with their own light against a black, velvet curtain...

Coins. Why did that seem important? Now that the image of coins had come into his head, he couldn't shake it. But why? It wasn't like he handled them a lot each day. He merely got expense and taking reports from all the branches of the organization, and then put all the numbers together, nice and neat. But the image wouldn't leave him.

With a sigh, Hrimm got up and went down into his room over a local blacksmith's shop. He pulled over the sheaf of papers that held the day's takings on it, and looked over them. What did the Boss expect him to do, divine the competition's identity from these numbers? Money spent, money taken, ammount of Mallian currency, ammount of old Doman currency, it shouldn't be possible to do anything with those numbers.

Until he realized, in a flash of insight, that it just might be possible. The night wore on, while Hrimm carried out numerous calculations, half in his head, half scratched on pages of parchment. When he finally reached his conclusion, he knew he had it. Iron clad evidence. Far to wound up to sleep now, the kumajin grabbed his crossbow and his papers, slung the one over his back and shoved the other into a belt pouch, and began making his way over the rooftops towards Mri'jal's shanty. Hrimm knew that if he was making a mistake, then the nekojin would be the one most likely to spot it... <p>

"Strenghten your lyre and sing
The hymn of death
The sky opens to us
They fly to the ray"

-Cante per me, Kajiura Yuki</p>

JoshuaDurron
 

Part Five

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Tue Oct 14, 2003 3:30 pm

It was a dank place, that was for sure. But Amanda didn't notice that as she sat hunched over her work bench, working on crafting another one of those collars that had been selling so well. Getting the aura around it just right was a difficult challenge, especially after one had done it several times already that day. But she persevered. She hadn't earned the nickname 'the Tower' for her hight after all, but rather for her unshakable drive to rise to the top of her profession. Finally, the collar looked just right to even her discerning astral eye, and she let her concentration fade, sitting back in her hard, wooden chair.

"Tower?" With a start, Amanda realized her subordinate had already called her several times. She sat back up and turned to look at the white mage, who was across the room on the other side of the laboratory. The other five mages who usually populated the black market's hidden lab were nowhere to be seen.

"Yes, what is it?" She asked, gathering her wits back about her after an embarrassing fit of exhaustion. She couldn't afford to be slacking off now that she had finally reached a position with some clout.

"Ma'am," he said, seeming just a tad embarrased, "it's well past the cerfew. The others have already left. Don't you think you should head home?"

Amanda flinched, ever so slightly. Not only had she lost track of what was going on in the lab around her, she had lost track of the time. While that was fine and good for most mages, it wasn't something she could allow herself. Most mages had little appriciation for their schools of magic, their tutors, or any of the other advantages that people with even a little money had. In the end, she had learned magic in part by stealing books, in part by taking advantage of her strong will and natural talent for magic. When the opportunity to lead a team of mercinary mages in a new illegal undertaking had been offered her by the mysterious drow she knew only as her 'boss', she had jumped at the chance. But if she kept loosing her connection with reality while concentrating on the astral, then it was unlikely she'd be able to keep a hold of the precious opportunity she had been given. She shook herself out of her reverie and stood, saying to the other mage, "You live over the entrance we use, right? So you won't have a problem getting home under the cerfew."

"Yes," he answered. "But what about you? Will you be able to get home alright?"

"Probably not," Amanda conceeded. "But I know someone who lives nearby. I'll stay there until it's safe to move around the city again." As she spoke, she struggled into her blue half cloak and scooped up her war hammer, slinging the mithril weapon over her shoulders. Once she was ready, she stepped over to the door and opened it, simultaneously casting a spell that forced a bubble of air around her body that would keep the spray and water from the water fall just outside from drenching her. The white mage followed just a few steps behind her wearing a full length green oil-cloak that repelled the water. Thus the two made it outside the lab and into the city's sewers.

The mages walked in silence, and Amanda found herself reflecting on how little she actually knew about her staff. She worked with them on a daily basis, manufacturing potions, fake collars, and other such goods for distribution by the market, but she knew only two of them by name, and they were code names at that. Whoever this drow was, he had set up a highly information effecient organization. One learned things on a truly need to know basis. But the Boss wasn't afraid to let you know what he needed. And right now, what he needed was something Amanda strongly suspected she couldn't help him with: the nature and location of the competing buisness (or buisnesses) in occupied Doma. As she contemplated the problem, she got several strides ahead of her companion, and then almost tripped on something as she came around a corner. With a curse, she did a hop-skip-stagger maneuver and regained her ballance just as the white mage caught up with her.

"Are you alright?" He inquired. But he got little more than a curt nod as Amanda knelt down to investigate what had almost caused her to dive head first into the center of the sewer: The body of a very large rat. Blood still oozed slowly from a number of large, and nasty looking wounds, appearing to have been made by both magical and physical means. Even if it hadn't been killed by a sword thrust to the brain, it would have most likely expired shortly there after of blood loss. "Ma'am?" The white mage inquired curiously, wondering what could be so interesting.

"It's nothing. Let's keep going." Was Amanda's answer. But it wasn't nothing, she knew. Amanda the Tower now had something that might proove to be a solution to her problem... <p>

"Strenghten your lyre and sing
The hymn of death
The sky opens to us
They fly to the ray"

-Cante per me, Kajiura Yuki</p>

JoshuaDurron
 

Long-assed part 6

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Wed Oct 15, 2003 1:08 pm

The knock came as he was about to go to bed. Mri'jal the nekojin liked his rest, and he got little enough of it as it was that when he had to answer the door, he was almost tempted to simply club the person over the head with his Do-dachi sheath and leave him there for the guards to find. The only flaw with this plan was that the person at the door was not a him, it was a her. Two hers, to be specific. With raised eyebrows and a sudden suspicion that this would be worth missing out on some sleep for, he put his weapon away and let his two co-workers in. Once they were seated, he asked, "So, ladies, what brrrings the Towerrr and Leftsiderrr to my humble home so late at night, and in such unforrrgiving times?"

"We think we've solved it." Nai answered.

"Solved it? You me the Boss's prrroblem?" The nekojin inquired. "Alrrready?"

Amanda nodded. "We at least know where they're likely to move through, and who's likely to be leading them."

"Do tell. I am quite currrious to know who could have slipped past the Boss's inforrrmation networrrk."

"Griff," was Nai's blunt, one word answer. Mri'jal drummed his fingers on the table in front of him, trying to recall the name, and momentarily admiring how the moonlight through his 'skylight', actually a hole in the roof he had yet to fix, illuminated the orange streaks in his fur. Then it was back to buisness.

"Grrriff, you say? Isn't he one of the castle guarrrds, or some such thing?"

"He was," Amanda put in, "before this mess with the demons started. According to Leftsider's information network, he's still in town, and he's up to something. We haven't been able to determine what yet."

"Verrry well. He might be connected to the grrroup that's underrrselling us, he might not. So wherrre is he opperrrating from?"

Nai picked up the train of thought again. "The sewers. When the market was organized, we started sending out a number of expiditions into the sewers to determine whether we could smuggle through them. In the process, we discovered the place we now use as the Tower's lab. Once a section of the sewers was explored, we didn't return to it. However, tonight we found evidence that one of those bastardly tough rats that live down there was killed, not far from Tower's lab."

"It showed signs of both physical and magical damage," Amanda reported, "but none of our mages reports having engaged one, and none of our scouting expiditions were in the area either. Thus, someone else must be using the sewers, much as we are."

Mri'jal nodded. "Yes. That does make some sense. But we have no prrroof that Grrriff's orrrganization is connected to ourrr loss of prrroffits. Most likely, he's simply trrrying to forrrm some sorrrt of underrrgrrround movement to deal with the demons."

"That doesn't explain the numbers." A sheaf of papers fell through Mri'jal's 'skylight' and landed on the table, followed by Hrimm's deep voice from above. The three already seated below jumped, and Mri'jal mentally cursed himself for having taught the kumajin to move so silently. Clearly, he had been listening in on them for some time.

"Carrre to come down to ourrr level and explain that, o one who sits above?" Mri'jal asked once everyone had regained their composure. In reply, Hrimm's massive form filled the hole in the roof, and a moment later he swung down and landed with a loud 'thump' on the floor next to the table. Lacking a chair, he simply stood at the head of the table and lectured, like he was a tutor speaking to a group of students.

"I realized it while thinking about the day's sales. When Malachious came, he had a premade currency, which was forced into circulation through the stores. People buy in Doman, and are paid or given change in Mallian. That kind of system should replace about 75% of the currency in the given time frame, and people who fill positions as shop keepers and the like shouldn't have access to a supply of Doman currency at all. It's all been confiscated."

"Yes," Nai acknowledged, "we learned that some time ago. Your point?"

"Over the past week, we've taken a large amount of Doman gil in, and we've been paying out in Mallian, just like the shops. But we've been able to keep our Doman gil, since we're not an official buisness. I'd say we've got about half of the remaining Doman currency in our coffers, for use should it ever become of value again. But in the past two days, we've still been recieving large amounts of Doman currency. One example," Hrimm pointed to a line on the papers he had dropped down, "this fellow 'Spob', he paid for his mage collar entirely in Doman gil. Now Spob is a shop keeper, he shouldn't even have access to Doman gil. So why is he carrying illegal money? Because he's a patriot, and he's probably working for Griff's resistance movement."

Amanda nodded. "It would make sense."

"So we've prrroved that therrre is a rrresistance movement. How does that prrrove they'rrre rrreducing ourrr sales?"

Hrimm again pointed to the figures on his paper. "What two services are unique to us? Collar removal and collar counterfitting. Over the past three days, these are the only services that we've been paid for in Doman gil. Now you'd think, that with the diminishing supply of Doman gil, we'd be seeing it more frequently in small purchases, such as potions. But it's not turned up there. Why? Because the people spending Doman gil have another source. The resistance isn't buying our potions because they're getting their own, probably through the sewers."

Mri'jal sat back in his chair and thought about that for a moment. It was an impressive array of circumstantial evidence. Each of the facts alone meant little, but his companions had had the presence of mind to grasp at what they might mean, and bring them all together. Up until that very moment, he wasn't sure what kind of organization Ree had signed him on to help manage, but now he knew. These were crooks of the highest caliber. "Alright, we take this to the Boss tomorrow morning. We'll see what he makes of it." <p>

"Strenghten your lyre and sing
The hymn of death
The sky opens to us
They fly to the ray"

-Cante per me, Kajiura Yuki</p>

JoshuaDurron
 

Epilogue

Unread postby JoshuaDurron » Fri Oct 17, 2003 11:07 am

Ree reclined in his chair at the Sow's Ear, listening to what they had to tell him. It was an impressive feat, even for them, to come up with all this in under twenty four hours. They had been back at the meeting place several hours before he had planned to see them back, in fact they had even beaten him there by nearly fifteen minutes. Finally, Mri'jal finished laying out their evidence, and their conclusions. "So?" He asked, "What do you think?"

Ree thought about it for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "I think you're right. It would be alot like the Doman government to set up a resistance and supply it with their own means, rather than buying from the poor, struggling criminals."

"But what are we going to do?" Nai inquired. "They represent the government. If we go against them, and they do manage to get rid of the thrice blasted demons, then it'll go bad for us when they regain power."

"Who's in power doesn't matter to us," Amanda pointed out. "We'll operate outside their influence either way."

Hrim shook his head. "But if we go against one side or the other, they'll make it a point to interfere with us. That will make things more difficult."

"If we sell to the resistance, we make a profit," Nai observed. "If we turn them in to the demons, we might be able to get a reward, and make a profit that way. The question is, which one provides the greater profit?"

"Well, Boss?" Mri'jal prompted. "Will we beat them, orrr join them?"

Ree contemplated his answer in silence for a moment. Slowly, a feral, menacing, down right evil grin. If one did not know him, one might think he was a drow straight out of the underworld, bent on hellraising and prisoner taking. His four lieutenants drew back slightly...

Finally, he spoke. "Beat them or join them? Why Mri'jal, my friend, I intend to do both."

The drow leaned forward conspiratorially and began to explain. "First, we need to get in touch with Griff and the undergroudn..."

The back room of the Sow's Ear was in use for several hours that day. When it's occupants emerged, the bartender barely even gave them a second glance. Where they were going, and what they were doing, it was none of his buisness. Whatever it was, he was sure it was nothing more than just another day in the life of the Doman black market...

~Fin <p>

"Strenghten your lyre and sing
The hymn of death
The sky opens to us
They fly to the ray"

-Cante per me, Kajiura Yuki</p>


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