Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

Jeod

Dance stared at the vast bookshelves in awe, shocked that one man could have so many to himself. A tall human with a scar tracing his left temple to his scalp and white hair greeted them. "Do sit. I won't stand on ceremony in my own house." He studied them as they seated themselves in the cushioned leather chairs round the oval table.
"May I offer you pastries and a glass of apricot brandy? I cannot talk for long, but I see you've been on the road for many a week, and I well remember how dusty my throat was after such journeys."

Loring burst into a grin. "Aye. A touch of brandy would be welcome indeed. You're most generous, sir."
Dance felt himself die inside as Birgit glanced at him. "Only a glass of milk for my boy."
She didn't call me hers.. so we're not doing that, then.
"Of course, madam." Jeod responded, then rang a bell for the butler, giving his instructions and leaning into his seat. "I am at a disadvantage. I believe you have my name, but I don't have yours."

"Stronghammer, at your service." Roran spoke.
"Mardra, at your service." Birgit was second.
"Kell, at your service." Nolfavrell said.
"Kvaed, at your service." Dance spoke in his normal voice, earning a glance from Roran.
"And I'd be Wally, at your service." Loring completed their introductions.
Jeod gave Dance a strange look before responding. "And I at yours. Now, Rolf mentioned that you wished to do business with me. It's only fair that you know I'm in no position to buy or sell goods, nor have I gold for investing, nor proud ships to carry wool and food, gems and spices across the restless sea. What, then, can I do for you?"

Roran leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together and stared at them for a moment.
"To put it simply, sir, we represent a certain group of people who- for various reasons- must purchase a large amount of supplies with very little money. We know that your belongings will be auctioned off day after tomorrow to repay your debts, and we would like to offer a bid now on those items we need. We would have waited until the auction, but circumstances press us and we cannot tarry another two days. If we are to strike a bargain, it must be tonight or tomorrow, no later."

"What manner of supplies do you need?" The merchant asked.
"Food and whatever else is required to outfit a ship or other vessel for a long voyage at sea."
Curiosity gleamed in Jeod's eyes. "Do you have a ship in mind? For I know every craft that's plied these waters in the last twenty years."
"We've yet to decide."
The merchant didn't press the issue. "I understand now why you thought to come to me, but I fear you labor under a misapprehension." He splayed his hands in a gesture to the room. "Everything you see here no longer belongs to me, but to my creditors. I have no authority to sell my possessions, and if I did so without permission, I would likely be imprisoned for cheating my creditors out of the money I owe them."

He stopped as Rolf returned, holding a huge silver tray carrying pastries, crystal goblets and a glass of milk next to a decanter of brandy. He set it on a footstool and served the refreshments, hesitating in front of Dance. "I'm an adult." He assured the butler. "Short, but not a kid." Rolf resumed and finished, excusing himself and leaving.

When he was gone, Jeod drained his cup in a single go, then continued after setting it loudly on the table.
"I may be of no use to you, but I do know a number of people in my profession who might... might... be able to help. If you can give me a bit more detail about what you want to buy, then I'd have a better idea of who to recommend."
So Roran went on to explain everything they required, might need, and even things they merely wanted. Dance sipped his drink, but found himself missing the stuff from his old Grilby's. Occasionally Loring or Birgit interrupted to add something Roran missed, but mostly he did the talking.
What worried Dance was the way Jeod stared at the man, his eyes growing more surprised and fascinated by the second.
It occurred to him that the merchant might recognize the requirements as the things needed to transport a village.
His fears were soon confirmed when Roran wrapped up his list.

"It seems to me," He glanced at Dance again. "That this would be enough provisions to transport several hundred people to Feinster or Aroughs... or beyond. Admittedly, I've been rather occupied for the past few weeks, but I've heard of no such host in the area, nor can I imagine where one might have come from." Roran's face went slack as he paused, looking directly at Dance. "But then, you do have a skeleton in your midst, a rather bold move bringing him into the city, in my opinion, but that is only my opinion."
They all froze, Roran reaching for his hammer before Dance stopped him with blue magic.

Jeod simply took one of the pastries and bit into it, unaffected by the obviously threatening action and display of magic. Dance yanked off his hood, revealing himself. "You know?"
The merchant finished his bite before answering. "I may be bankrupt, but I'm still a man with many connections, my friend. However," Here he faced Roran once more, whose fingers were twitching. "This is still your concern. I'd suggest you see Galton on Market Street about your food and old Hamill by the docks for all else. They're both honest men and will treat you true and fair." He took another bite of his treat.

When he finished, he addressed Nolfavrell. "So, young Kell, have you enjoyed your stay in Teirm?"
"Yes, sir," Spoke the boy, smiling uneasily. "I've never seen anything quite so large, sir."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, sir. I-" "I'm curious, sir," Roran interrupted a bit loudly. "As to the nature of the shop next to your house. It seems odd to have such a humble store among all these grand buildings."
A smile graced Jeod's features. "Well, it was owned by a woman who was a bit odd herself: Angela the herbalist, one of the best healers I've ever met. She tended that store for twenty-some years and then, only a few months ago, up and sold it and left for parts unknown." He let out a sad sigh. "It's a pity, for she made an interesting neighbor."

"That's who Gertrude wanted to meet, isn't it?" Nolfavrell asked. Roran shot the boy a vicious look before Dance flinched at the recognition in Jeod's eyes. His grip tightened on his chair until his knuckles were as white as bone. "It can't be!" He leaned forward, studying Roran's face for a moment before he spoke softly. "Roran... Roran Garrowsson."
The other had been halfway out of his chair with his hammer out before he froze at the last name.