AZAG (LORDS OF MARS) GAME

Already in the Center are scrawled slips:
• Noxmorte: (a merchant's cart, still loaded)

You've each won a bit, too.
• Scabbers: an old crown (from Noxmorte, where do you know to get one?); a virgin's teeth (from Osslame)
• Osslame: your enemy's right nut (from Scabbers); a forgotten god (from Noxmorte)
• Noxmorte: antique dueling pistol set (from Scabbers)

I doubt either of these have seen the tithe from a spice camel. Ah well, it's the nature of this game.

Noxmorte picks up a blank slip and writes down the words, laying it in front of himself. "A bottle of fifty year old Barbasdu wine."

Noxmorte takes the dice, under his breath he whispers a small prayer of thanks to the spiders for the luck he hopes to receive. The spiders take their percentage, even of prayers. He tosses the dice onto the table. Looking at the dice, he pushes the new chit for the wine into the Center, moves the Dueling pistol set back to Scabbers and retrieves the Forgotten god chit from Osslame.

Noxmorte steps away from the table and heads out into the street. He'll have to be more careful about which table he sits at next time. He gives the street a long sweeping gaze, looking for anything that stands out from the normal crowd. He then pats his harness, feeling the documents, he heads off towards the spiders.

Noxmorte suppresses the look of distaste that wants to cross his face. These little men are just doing their job, despite having seen him before. "I bear documents that I was instructed to retrieve for your masters and no, I will not give them to you. My orders are to hand them directly to your masters."

Of course he will, Noxmorte muses and begins to wonder how peculiar this is going to be. He unrolls the documents and holds them in the dim light coming from the doorway.

Noxmorte bows in deference to the Spider and leaves. He nods, almost imperceptivity at the guards as he passes them. Once back into the street, he turns in the direction of his rented room. Keeping his eyes alert as he moves through the street. He angles for a small cafe with an outdoor table. His intent is for a drink and a light meal to help push back the exhaustion.

Noxmorte looks her over, "No," he slightly shakes his head,"Morda owns this place. He likes to relax with the customers." Gesturing to a seat, "He'd be happy if you joined us."

"I don't know if it's wonderful, but I do have a name, Noxmorte. What brings you out into the streets of Byzaron today?" Noxmorte signals to Lombo to bring a drink for the girl.

"No where in particular. I just finished a job and tomorrow I will seek a new one. For now, a bit of rest, I suppose."

"Ah, it seems you are already at work." He scans around the crowd, checking to see if anyone has been loitering too long or seems to be watching.

"Why not? What do you suggest?"

Noxmorte leaves some coins on the table and stands. Gesturing to Yirin the direction he starts down the street with her by his side.

They walk a few blocks down the busy street before turning left onto a slightly smaller street. The crowd here is thinner and there are fewer shops that open into this street. About four blocks further on they take a right onto an even narrower street, just barely wide enough for a wagon to pass. The buildings look older and feel quieter, it's part of the residential section. Another block and they turn left through an archway that leads into an interior courtyard. A small fountain sits in the middle, the three story building has twenty-four residences spread out around the four sides. Crossing the courtyard, they start up the stone stairs to the second floor, at the landing Noxmorte pulls out his brass key to unlock the door on the left.

Seeing the boy Noxmorte will stomp his boots on the last few stairs, the louder sound echoing in the stairway. He will hold out his hand for the coins when the boy awakes.

Noxmorte collects the bag of coins and turns to the boy, "You can go." Opening the door, he enters, scans the room and then motions for Yirin to come in.

Later, he closes the door behind Yirin as she heads back down the stairway. Locking the door he turns back and cleans up in the basin.

Once his eyes adjust to the dim light, Noxmorte will head to the bar to get a drink. With his drink in hand, he turns to scan the room again. He walks across the room and sits at a table with an older man, he's wearing a red sash across his chest and has a long scar below his left eye.

"How's business?", Noxmorte asks with a measured familiarity.

Noxmorte lets a half-smile show at Tombo's curt answer. Never really a talker that one. "Between, and looking," he answers keeping the words to a minimum in Tombo's style.

Noxmorte cringes at the question, "No, I have not, and I prefer to make enemies in far away lands, not in my home. Surely not with those I often work for and who can crawl through my brain."

"The prize is for the name of the thief? That alone shouldn't be to dangerous. I wonder if the blood crow feather is a calling card or a distraction."

"Well then, this should keep me busy for a bit. Thank you for the news, I'll let you know how it turns out." Noxmorte stands and offers a polite bow.

He will head across town to the Gripped Hands, seeking information and trying to stay out of any gambling games.

Seating himself, "Well, that'll be after my next trip to Barbasdu. In the meantime, have you heard of the spider with the empty cellar?"

"Funny's not the word, if it was a spider and it get's caught, the others would tear it limb from limb, for starters." Scanning the room to see if anyone's watching him before continuing. "There's a prize, I hear for anyone that discovers the thief. Any thoughts?"

"Pfft, the streets here are dangerous to cross. I'm looking for leads, if there are any."

"That sounds promising," standing up he leaves a coin on the table. "For your drink and your time." Heading into the street he pauses to scan around before heading off towards the Pretty Birds.

With a half smile, Noxmorte replies. "Unlikely, any openings at the bar?"

Noxmorte nods to the doorman and then gazes around the area. There has to be a way in, he ponders to himself.

Noxmorte heads down the street, checking to see that the doorman has lost interest and then circles around the building. Finding the back door, he checks to see if it's locked.

As the two men enter the dock, Noxmorte will grab a box off of the wagon and head up the ramp. He'll try and avoid the men with the barrel and see if he can make it through the storage area to the front, or at least the kitchen.

Noxmorte is wearing his standard harness, the leather straps were not originally cheap, but are showing their wear. The same can be said of his boots, he cleans them regularly and should only be sporting today's dust. His waist wrap is recently new, but it too was not expensive. Noxmorte can tell the patrons of the Pretty Birds are of a higher class, some men are dressed similarly to Noxmorte, showing off their scars and wealth at the same time. Their harnesses appear brand new, the leather shines and the metal buckles have various designs engraved and inlaid in gold. The other men, obviously those who've made their money without the sword, are wearing fine fabrics of light weave. The loose fitting style of the clothing is designed to keep them cool, but also show off their wealth rather than their form. The women are grouped into two types, the older ladies have a reserved and disguising style that again, shows off the wealth and less the figure. The younger women seem to be here as decoration for some of the men, showing a moderate amount of flesh and having closer cut designs with lot of gabs or slits to offer the chance of seeing more.

Noxmorte makes his way towards the bar, signaling for the bartender. "An ale please, how's your day going?"

Noxmorte smiles at the intended jab. "I am, thank you. Just looking for a little information, the people here see the city from a different point of view than the masses."