Who

Ryott

What

Ryott continues her surveillance of the Spice Merchant.
Continuing from Ryott the Spy - Pt 1 {Vig}

When

Evening of the first day of the first month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Rooftops, The Pit, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 21 May 2018 04:00

 

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It’s a gamble…but it might just work.



Rooftops

If you can find the handholds to haul your way up - and there are plenty, if you know where to look - then there is a hidden highway of tile and adobe that waits for knowing travellers to tread its path.A road best travelled by those sure of foot and able to stomach the occasional leap between buildings without falling victim to vertigo, the rooftops represent a quick and possibly convenient way of travelling about the bazaar; though don't be surprised if there's the odd shady opportunist willing to take a risk this high above what law lies below.

The view from up here is spectacular; rooftops, sun-bleached, weathered, beaten by time, spread like an uneven patchwork quilt from here to the very borders of the bazaar. Some flat, some tiled, some frequented and some abandoned - it's not unusual to find the odd potted garden, stored goods or even a precious chicken coop, locked down to protect the feathered denizens within its thread-protected casing.

The sounds of the bazaar are muffled, the scents blissfully so too, making it a potentially pleasant little getaway for those in need of a little peace and quiet to observe the skies, to travel the high walkways, or to simply soak in some of Rukbat's rays.


While waiting for Enyem to close up shop for the evening, Ryott makes a small meal out of the cold meatrolls and small skin of water she had tucked away in her pack. Checking in with her blues she’s sent an image of the rough looking men going into a shady gambling den, and looking to be settling in for a long haul at the Dragon Poker tables. Instructing Strife to remain behind in hopes of eventually following the men to where they lay their heads. Trouble is called back to her and it only takes a few moments for the dark blue to pop in from between over her head, soundlessly circling down until he lands next to her, furling wings onto his back.

Reaching into a small pouch at her belt, she pulls out a small piece of jerky and gives it to her blue, reinforcing his training. It’s not long after that she spies three figures leaving the shop. The two women scurry off in one direction, while the man locks up and then heads off in the opposite direction. Trouble is sent after the woman, Ryott is guessing they are off home as all respectable women should be at this time of night, and she needs to know where home is. The man, Enyem is her target and it’s him she will shadow from the rooftops.

Sure and fleet footed, the teenaged spyling moves soundlessly over the rooftops, keeping the spice merchant always in her periphery vision. Pausing when he meets a group of similarly dressed gentlemen, she crouches against a wall swathed in shadow, her ear pricked to pick up any tidbits. From what she manages to glean, they are talking business. Time passes, and she worries that nothing more will be learned this evening. But suddenly, Enyem and a couple of the other men break off from the group and Ryott is off again.

It doesn’t take them long to reach their final destination after that, ending up at the Pit, which is bustling with activity. This might be tricky. The great thing about being a kid and a pickpocket is that kids are mostly ignored by the adult populace at large…Except in places where kids are strictly prohibited, and then they stand out like a fresh glow in the darkest cavern. A heavy sigh as she considers her options. Studying the bouncer at the door, she narrows her dark eyes at his face, trying to, even at this distance, judge what kind of man he might be.

It’s a gamble…but it might just work.

Shedding her pack, she removes her previous disguise and quickly dons it once more. She still has the makeup on her face, and even if it’s rubbed off a bit, it’s dark enough no one should be scrutinizing her too closely.

Finding a large pot to stash her pack into, she slips off the roof and then down the sidestreet towards the entrance to the fighting den. Scrubbing at her eyes hard to redden them, she starts to sniffle and can feel the first pricking of tears at the corners just as she shuffles up to the man at the door.

“Please sir,” the battered urchin squeaks in a weak voice, thick with tears, tapping the man on his arm. “I saw my pa go in ‘dere.” the accent she puts on is meant to age her even younger than she is, hunched over to make herself look as small and helpless as possible.

“Dere’s 9 of us mister, we starvin’ and he’s spendin’ our food monies on the fights. Ma died last winter and now I don’t know how we’re going to last this one..” burying her face in her hands as her body gets wracked in pitiful sobs.

Krusher, as his friends call him (you don’t wanna know what his enemies call him), is one of the toughest bouncers who work this place, but there is something about a bawling girl child that just breaks through his tough exterior and finds the gooey center hidden way deep inside.

Crouching his massive frame so that he can see eye to eye with the girl, he puts a meaty hand on her trembling shoulder. Looking up at him, Ryott’s eyes are brimming with tears, cheeks streaked and even a respectable drip of snot from her stuffy nose which she wipes off on the sleeve of her shapeless dress.

“Aww honey, now don’t cry. Why don’t you tell me what your pa looks like and I’ll go fetch him right to you,” he offers helpfully, it’s not exactly in his job description, but it’s not right a man letting his children starve while he gambles away their livelihood. Seems Krusher here is one of those rare bouncers with a heart of gold. Ryott’s hit the jackpot.

“Oh thanks sir! He’s got brown hair, shaggy like, and a light beard. Oh and his eyes are brown. And he’s about so tall…” she lifts her hand to indicate the average height of a man from the bazaar, “Kinda scrawny build.”

Of course her description could cover about two thirds of the patrons he’s let in this very night and besides, he can’t be away from the door for that long. Looking down at the girl, he narrows his eyes slightly, weighing how much of a threat a half-starve bazaar brat could be.

He must not find her very threatening though because he stands then and opens the door for her. “Go in and find him girl, but try to be quick about it eh? And if anyone gives you any guff, just tell em to talk to Krusher.” he ruffles her head then, and for a minute, Ryott’s heart stops beating as she can feel the hair that’s been sewn around the shawl covering her head, shift in a way hair shouldn’t. It feels like a lifetime to the spyling girl before he again lifts his large hand and moves out of the way so she can go through the doorway.

Once she’s inside, Ryott takes a moment to just breathe. That was close. She would have to rethink this particular strategy when it comes to her disguises, but for now her wild idea actually had worked, and she can feel a surge of adrenaline bolstering her for the next part of the task.

She has to find Enyem…in a nearly full house. This would be fun.

To be continued…

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