From Mosholu's Journal


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I began to wander and meander aimlessly around the city, striking up conversations where it seemed appropriate, the ebb and flow of urban life making its way back into my blood stream. Soon I started to feel a little more comfortable in Irawaddy, despite its size and strangeness. After all, it was still a city.

Trying to find more about scrolls, I also discover that the raid on the stronghold at Westpit is common knowledge in Irawaddy now. But some of the men I have spoken to have heard that El Wahafi lost more than salt in the incident. Why else would he be trying so hard to find those responsible in the city when everyone know it was the Salt Raiders who did it? I think about the book I carry in my backpack, the ledger from El Wahafi's Keep. I know that to carry it is dangerous, but to leave it out of my sight, subject to snoops and prowlers is unthinkable.

I asked around on the street, and found that the economy in Magic Way is not the thriving center it was in generations past. Certainly though it rivals anything I have seen in Freestone. The Fruit Market alone dwarfs the Freestone Farmer's Market (which only took up half an Irawaddy block). I have also heard rumors of the Fruit Market, that the Nagoni, though not as involved in the commerce conflicts, are also not comfortable with El Wahafi's monopolization of the salt trade. There are rumors that he is looking to eventually move into the fruit trade as well.

A I walked along the Way, I learned that it has become harder and harder to get magic. Most of it comes only from South Helios and points south of that and it is drying up from there as well.

This may work in my favor, especially as there is a strong demand for any kind of spells, especially higher level ones. If we stay in Irawaddy long enough I may gain that power. I could supplement my income in legitimate ways. Think of it: I could become one of the very ones I steal from, those who exploit supply-and-demand.

I entered a small shop, with wooden walls (no doubt protected by magicks) and a dirt floor. There were a few components for sale, but it was obviously a small operation. I nearly left when the owner (maybe) asked how I was. We made small talk, and soon enough talk rolled around to El Wahafi's search. I told him, "Yeah I heard they were looking for some reading materials of a different sort. Didn't make much sense to me." I tried to guage his reaction but he was obviously smoother than I thought. I decided to move right to business matters and said, "I have two things available for you for trade or sale, at market price of course, and I'm looking for some specific items. What would you have to offer?"

He looked over my scrolls for a good while. I began thinking about the paper I stole from the temple. Then a light sweat broke out when I remembered the paper I took from the military ship. This is how it will unravel I thought, with a trail of paper. Just as I became nervous he said, "Nice stylistics. Good hand. Did you write these?" He sniffed at the paper, looked at it through the light. "Sturdy grade. Almost workaday quality of the Northern Helian type." He looked over at you and winked, "not cheap this paper." He frowned at another piece, the more recent work. "This isn't so good. But it'll last."

He thought for a bit and finally said, "I'll give you 25 and 5 for the Sleep and 153 even for the Door-Opener. Of course, I can up that value in a bit of trade. I don't have a lot of scrolls ready right now. They go out the door quickly. I've got the one that lets you crawl all over the wall and ceiling and the enfeebling ray. Give me the two scrolls and another 50 gp and I'll throw in Locate Object and that's a deal."

I made to leave and he said, "Now I'm a small shop. If you want anything else, go down the street to Arf's Emporium. He's got pretty well the library, but he sells them at book +10% and he doesn't bargain."

His words about how fast his stock moved gave me a thought.

"I did write them and can write more if you are interested. Might take me a few days, more if I can find some of El Wahafi's men and get work. Why do you think they would be looking in the city?"

As I waited for his response I rolled up the two scrolls, then laid down the 50 gold and the two scrolls I had for him. "I'll take the trade over the gold," and I told him what spells I had to offer for scribing.

"Back where I come from we haggle on every deal but the first. The first is the cement of trust that brings more and better deals. I hope that we have earned each other's trust and can have a long partnership. What did you say your name was, friend? I am Bessurano Tolvaj."

I extended my arm in the traditional forearm handshake.

He grasped my forearm. "I am Guerlian. It is a pleasure. I do not know about such strong binds in Irawaddy-" here he chuckled to himself, and I felt slightly misused, but, I thought, I could always recoup my losses in other ways.

Then, perhaps sensing my unease, he said, "But you can ask anyone on the Way that my word is bond. Your scribing is strong. You have had some good experience for someone of your age. I can definitely find work for you. All of those magicks you know are in demand here and I'll pay you half of their selling value for each one you complete. I will of course provide the materials."

I considered his offer and looked at him closely for the first time. I thought back to my days scribing in Freestone, for the mages guild there. I had learned a lot there and had had a good time. I definitely would not abuse this man's trust, having learned my lesson. He was an older man, gaining that extra layer of flesh that made him look a little unhealthy and he had a wispy beard. The shop was a bit of a mess, but in an interesting way. It was a mess that is a result of someone with an interesting mind at work.

"I don't know why you want to sell your skills to Wahafi. That path is littered with doldrums at best or brutality at worst. He did not get to where he is by treating people gently."

He handed me the three scrolls I packed them into one of my cases and told him I would definitely take the job, but I would need some time to recopy these more permanently into my collection. "I hope you understand. I will return in 5 days and become your scrivener. I look forward to it, Guerlian. And perhaps you have spared me a few doldrums and brutality, I thank you."

I headed out and looked around, looking for any of the faces from my walk over here.

The crowd was still pretty thick at this point, but no one stood out from my earlier trip. People in Irawaddy were pretty busy, or at least doing a very good job of pretending to be busy and not paying any attention to me. It was a relief. For weeks I have been on highest level of alertness and I was growing weary.

Arf's was a much more organized affair. A long low counter divided a neat front room from a tall row of shelves stacked neatly with white scrolls. This was what I was looking for. Clean professionalism and efficiency.

Young acolytes in uniformed robes waited on customers and pulled down the scrolls with white gloves.

"May I help you sir?" one asked me. He was about my age, though less confident in a way, as if he didn't believe he could be on my side of the counter. I believed he could handle himself, but it was clear he didn't.

"Indeed. I am here to pick up three scrolls for Master Bessurano Tolvaj, my mentor. I fear that I may have again preceded the messenger. I'll pick them up myself, please, but do tell the messenger that I have already been here and have picked up our master's bidding. I believe he sent me for a Hold Door Closed, Shocking Grasp, and FireHands, though he said you might call it by the name, Burning Hands. I believe that should come to 82 gold and 5 silver, yes?"

"Hmmmm. Tolvaj." He pulled out a large book and started flipping through it. "I don't see a Tolvaj."

He closed the book and I thought our business was complete. "But no matter, you said you beat the messenger. If you don't want to open up an account, we can sell you the materials in cash immediately. Please fill this out while I check the prices."

"And yes, you are correct about the price and we have all three in stock. One moment. Please."

He handed me a form that asked for my name and address and a brief questionnaire about what kinds of spells you like to cast. This was ridiculous. For a city that likes to keep secrets I was shocked at some of the questions on their survey. And they asked if I was interested in joining Arf's Bonus Club? Bonus Club?

This was too efficient, I thought to myself.

"Well, my master is staying aboard a vessel in the harbor, the Silver Apple of the Moon, I can't recall exactly which pier, but if you need to find out for sure, I can come back."

I filled out the form, leaving the boat's name as address and put down Abjuration as spells "I like to cast." I thought for a second about the chances my new employer knew Arf, or his Customer Service Representatives, but dismissed the odds as long and forgot about it. This guy wouldn't remember "my master's" name 20 seconds after I left the shop.

"I think it best my master comes down himself to apply for membership as I never know how long we are staying in one place. You said cash was fine, right?"

I began counting out the 82 gold and 5 silver as I waited for him to bring the scrolls over.

He brought the three scrolls down, placed them in a row on a leather mat, opened each one, checked the header and then rolled them up neatly with a dull red ribbon.

He took my money and counted it thoroughly. Then he looked at my questionnaire (briefly) and put it in a little cabinet below the counter in front of him. (Note to self: steal the "lock-box" and give it to Guerlian.)

Taking out a little chit of scrap vellum (scrap!), he cut to a small rectangle, scribbled out the price of the three scrolls, then listed the scrolls and wrote "paid in full" with a final flourish. A regular Mr. Fancy-Pants, this one.

"Would you be interested in an extra scroll case? We're having a special on bone ones from the south. Very high quality. Can hold 4 spells watertight. 5gp today only."

Good move, I thought. The impulse buy right at the end, when my guard was down. Slick. I could use one, so I went for it. Lubricating the wheels of future business, I figured.

"Well, Master Tolvaj didn't say to buy one, but I'm sure he could use one, who wouldn't need an extra now and again. Okay. I will. He did say something about vellum, but only if you have a supply of good quality, and I don't know much about it, but I trust you could spare some for him, yes? Would there be a sale on that as well? We have had a long journey and he has had to be sparing with his notes. That was as frustrating as you can imagine...for us all. I may have to run back to the boat for more coins, depending on the price. I'd say he needs at least 50 sheets."

"Well, 50 sheets is going to cost you 400 gold," he says. I nearly choked. Cases for 5 but paper too dear to fill them up. Irawaddy needs to get its collective head checked.

"Well, perhaps my master can have it imported, or pick it up somewhere else in our journeys. Thank you for your time, and perhaps Master Tolvaj will come down himself next time. Thank you again."

"What about the scroll case? Only 5 gp today, sir?"

I plunked down 4 gold and 10 silver, hoping to annoy him, and though I could swear I saw his lip twitch I'll never be sure.

I went over to the Al Hadoun for a nice late breakfast. It is a center of a lot of political gossip in town, and I thought I could do well to gather info there. Before that I cruised through the fruit market to see if they had oranges yet. They did.

By the time I got there the oranges were already mostly sold, but there were still many good ones left. The oranges here run darker than I am used to. Their juice is like the warm blood of nature.

I grab a seat and offer an orange to the proprietor. "Their juice is like the warm blood of nature," I said. "I have a big appetite today and a lot of work to do the rest of the day, so I will need a lot of energy. Bring me the usual, but double helpings, please."

"Of course, my friend. Ah, this orange is fresh from the market. I will squeeze its juice into the lamb, and will have a slice for myself." Three large men sat at a table next to mine, smoking and nibbling on olives.

As I sized them up I listened in on their conversation. They were discussing the gossip and politics of the day and after a while I became accustomed to their accents and the words they emphasized over others."

"Would you like a cup of gahwah to start your lunch sir?"

"Shoo Kran, (thank you). Aiwa (yes). Black as usual."

A few more minutes and it became apparent they were talking about the slave trade. The Slavers have not traditionally associated too much with other businesses in Irawaddy. There is some social stigma against them. However, recently some of El Wahafi's top lieutenants have been seen heading south more than once and entering the Slavers' compound. Many of the slaves are picked up from the tribes that line the coast between Irawaddy and South Helios, but recently North Helion warships have been coming from the south with captured soldiers. They sell the slaves and then use the profits to buy weapons. Very interesting.

I looked closer and saw they were wearing tan robes that went down to their leather slippers. They wore a little chain around their neck and had beards. They seemed to be comfortable merchants of the area so I started a conversation with them.

"I heard they're bringing in a lot of captured soldiers now, men and women from much farther south. The tribes have been mostly depleted anyways," said one of them, and I used this as my opening.

I lean over toward their table and said, "Excuse me, I am new to the area and I was wondering, where do the slaves go? I haven't seen that many in the city after the sales. And which are the best sellers?"

"They go west to the fields. The better ones stay in town and go to Rafiq or Kaseem to the wealthier households."

I said, "I see. Can they be trusted in the houses? Are they broken when they get here, or is it buyer beware, like so much else in this most excellent city?"

"The slavers do a pretty thorough job of breaking them in. Threnoble used to lead that clan, but now there are many different houses. It is, sadly, one thing that is done efficiently in this city."

"Do you not love Irawaddy? I sense some regret?" I had to keep asking questions to keep the conversation going.

"Ha, ha. Of course, I do. It is the city of my birth. But this is a lawless, broken place. It is a sad statement when the slavers are the most efficient operation in town."

"You should qualify that, friend," chimes in the other one. "El Wahafi's organization has grown pretty efficient. Almost too efficient, some may say."

"I was thinking of asking his men for work. I hear the Salt Tribes have been acting up again and that work suits me," I said, trying to gauge their politics.

My first mistake.

"I'm sure he's hiring." They looked at me with a slightly less friendly air.

Trying to recover, I rush in with "I mean, I hear that's one of the strongest games in town. Plus, I heard he's missing something more than salt, something more...precious."

"You're referring to that raid on Westpit, of course."

The heavier one looked over and said, "They say the Raiders got a lot of salt, perhaps a quarter of the Rainquarter's yield. What else did you hear he was missing, friend?"

"Yes, the Salt Tribes. I hear that he is looking all over the city for the Salt Tribe fighters who attacked him and stole the riches in the keep. I hear he is missing many things," I said and laughed, trying to not overdo it.

"Yes, I suppose. He has been sending his men through every nook and cranny in town, looking for something. But maybe he's just trying to find the culprits."

"Salt Tribe fighters come into the city?"

"Well, really, no, but a lot of the tribesmen have moved here for menial labor or dock work since their salt dried up." He sucks on an olive. "Mmmm, salty."

"Would they try to sell the treasure from the stronghold maybe? Surely the Salt Merchant king would know where to look?"

"Yes, that's a good point. They'll bring the salt in bits & pieces and try and sell it. But I don't think they'll be coming by with that salt for many months."

"Are you three Salt Merchants? Or, perhaps, shippers? I am a scribe, as you see by my inked hands."

"Ha ha ha," laughs the fatter one. "I own a couple of fishing boats in the lower docks. Does okay for me."

"And we export sardines," say the other two.

"How many ships do you have?" I ask them. "A fleet, or but one. I ask because I look for work. If you have large holdings in the city perhaps you may need a writer in need of a book."

"Ha ha ha ha" All three of them laugh hard this time. "I'm afraid," says the fatter one, "that our stories will be written in ledger books only. If it's work you need, I recommend you go down to some of the scroll shops on the Way, or perhaps the larger merchant houses up on the Main Docks, though you may have to be a member of the Seaman's Association-"

"There's a group that would be happy to see El Wahafi go down," interrupts the other.

"Why would the sailors hate El Wahafi?"

"Not the sailors. The Seaman's Association."

Ah, shippers then. But why? He hasn't cut them in?

"The Seaman's Association works with the El Wahafi's organization but are not happy with their monopoly of the salt production. El Wahafi is beginning to dictate prices and is slowly raising them. The merchants are now putting pressure on the docks to lower their prices. Also, El Wahafi is threatening to build his own docks. The Seaman's Association would dearly like some leverage against El Wahafi."

We spoke like this for a few more minutes and then I tried to suggest that the Seaman's Association might be able to leverage El Wahafi with the ledger I took from the stronghold.

Mistake number two.

The fat one says, "Ledger?" The second one spits out his gahwah and the third starts choking on an olive pit.

They seem to understand what I was talking about all right. At least the second and third ones. The fat one is looking at them curiously, while the second one is trying to get his check nervously. The third is staring at you in disbelief.

So I say, "Does that mean you have no one to recommend?"

The middle one is up and paying, looking both ways. The third one says, "surely, you're joking, sir." The fat one still doesn't know what's going on.

They hustled out the door as the waiter, who must have been over my shoulder said, "More gahwah, sir?"

It was later that night that we were attacked by the Salt Merchant's men. I wonder if it was Linear's magic shoppe trip, or my trip to the Al-Hadoun that tipped them off, but I trust the merchants to keep it to themselves, as they would benefit most directly from the fall of El-Wahafi.

We are hiding out now as I write this. The plan is for us to lay low for two weeks in hopes that the Wahafi thugs will think we left town. This also gives us precious time to rest and recuperate, and most importantly, time for me to write the scrolls into my spell book. We have been on the move since we jumped off the boat and I have had little time to keep up with my book, much less exploit my talents at writing scrolls for to help our party.

To be continued...