Events That Occurred Upon Our Arrival in Southport
Threesday,
Fifth Hand of Coldeven, EE238
Tándir
of Great Harbor
Southport,
The Monarchy of Tyyst
Tyyst.
The Monarchy of Tyyst was vastly different from most of the island
nations of the Mystshroud Isles. It was a merchant nation, headed by
merchants for the benefit of merchants. Everyone else simply scraped
and clawed or stole and murdered their way to wealth or prominence.
It was nothing less than one vast criminal enterprise in my mind, and
because of this it had been a very lucrative source of business for
me over the past decade since I had relocated from Great Harbor to
Wirost. We arrived two days after leaving Writh, the junk we had
booked passage on having made it across the Cobalt Sea without the
springing of too many leaks. We had boarded in Chimera's Rest as
Tándir Teracina and Saafiyah Linhau but presented papers to the
Southport city watch identifying us as Tándir and Saafiyah Jansaren,
merchant and daughter. We passed from the unrestricted wharf
district into the city proper with ease.
Saafiyah
was unusually quiet and lethargic that first afternoon in Tyyst and I
put it down to exhaustion from the two days of barfing her way across
the Cobalt. She did mutter something about never again, which
brought a smile to my lips and an angry glare to her pretty eyes.
She did look a little pale. Eventually though she returned in fine
form, and all it took was a large plate of goph spiced with grains of
paradise at one of the more upscale inns that served the market
district. During that meal Saafiyah managed to attract the adoring
attention of a dark-eyed, olive complexioned youth, probably the son
of one of the city's many merchant barons, dukes or princes. He
didn't catch on to my leave-my-daughter-the-fuck-alone glare, his
eyes riveted on Saafiyah as she graced him with approving smiles.
The
first evening we checked into a small, discrete inn. Saafiyah
proudly handed her travel papers to the innkeep, "Wirostian!
Saafiyah Jansaren!" The burly, gruff innkeep merely glowered at
her enthusiasm. As we climbed the stairs to the cramped quarters on
the second floor she asked if she'd get her travel papers back. I
told her she would. "Are you sure? When?" she asked very
seriously. That brought a smile to my face, the thought that she
took something as simple as sharing a ficticious last name and
equally ficticious familial bond as seriously as she did. Our room
was on the smallish side but well appointed and clean. Saafiyah
expressed her pleasure by diving onto the rather large bed and
stretching out on the feather filled bed. "Soft!" she
explained in delight. I merely pointed to her bedroll and then to
the floor beside the bed.
We
set about gathering information the following day.
"Camyder
Cavalcanti sends his regards, assassin," were the words that had
been spoken before I had lost consciousness in the manor. But beyond
that, I had little to work with to start tracking down my quarry. I
did not know if he was in Southport, or anywhere in Tyyst for that
matter. It was likely, given the Cavalcanti family's position in the
Tyystian Court, but as one of the pre-eminent merchant families in
the city and with business dealings throughout the Mystshrouds it was
possible that Camyder Cavalcanti would not be found in Tyyst. I had
settled on a long term stay, all the better to gather information
with as little suspicion as possible. I secured a mercantile license
from the merchant guild of Southport, setting up a stall in the
well-to-do market district, buying and selling general goods. This
put me in constant contact with other merchants as well as the
skilled laborers of the city such as the smithies and clothiers, none
of which could sell their finished goods directly to buyers. All
goods had to pass through the hands of an authorized merchant in
Tyyst.
For
several hands I spent the day trading, bartering and slowly depleting
my reserves of coin, procuring cargo space aboard the merchant ships
headed for Folkestone's Landing with the hope of one day getting a
return on my daily investment in goods. I trusted that Trelbar would
know better what to do with the odds and ends that I collected than I
would. I did not expect to make a profit after he took his cut, but
hoped that at least some of the coins I shelled out each day might be
returned to my purse. Saafiyah, on the other hand, disappeared for
long stretches each day, running through the market district with her
travel papers in hand and eventually exploring some of the city's
other districts. Unlike her home back in Folkestone's Landing,
Southport was devoid of beggars and guttersnipes such as herself, the
city watch rounding them up on a regular basis and pressing them into
service with the military or into slavery if they were female or not
old enough for military service. In the cold, stark terms of the
Monarchy of Tyyst, all people were expected to contribute in some way
to the betterment of society. It was not an option, but a mandate.
Saafiyah,
I noticed, seemed to gravitate towards the slaves. Many times in the
security of our rented room at the inn I tried to explain how
dangerous such behavior was, not only for herself but for the slaves,
but no amount of objections on my part could convince her otherwise.
By
the end of summer we had been in Southport for almost three turnings
seeking information, making contacts, and my funds were running
dangerously low.
Saafiyah
returned to the inn late one evening, late enough that I had begun to
have some concern for her safety. She let herself into our room and
nodded at me, smiling enigmatic despite the stern, almost angry,
glare I was giving her for worrying me so.
"Camyder
Cavalcanti will be at the Uhaishara tomorrow night to offer alms,"
she informed me. The Uhaishara was the local temple of Hunstus, God of
Trade.
My
anger fled. "How did you come about this information?"
"A
slave of House Cavalcanti," she said.
"And
you trust this slave?"
"I
do," she answered.
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