Book One
Chapter One: A Bad Business
Section 1: You Just Can't Get The Good Stuff Anymore
The paper wrapping folded back easily, the white powder now visible. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, and I swished my hand through the material. A fine quality, I had to admit, but not what I had been hoping for. "Declined," I said coldly and sharply, the guards on either side of me walking forwards to escort the sellers out of my office.
"What?! This is the finest in all the land!" exclaimed a desperate Altmer, eyes red with fear and anguish.
"I said. Declined. Use force if necessary, Tarvitz," I snapped, leaving my guards to deal with the High Elf woman and her Dunmer companions.
"Thank the Gods," I sighed as the sellers decided to go peacefully.
"Sir, might I suggest lowering the bar? That was a good batch."
"Tarvitz, I hired you for one thing and one thing only. And that is to be my guard. Economical matters of mine are none of your concern. Any further questions?" I said, looking at each of the guards. Saul Tarvitz was a good man, only trying to help, but in this business you had to be cold and harsh, because that's the only way you can get things done.
"No, sir. It was merely a suggestion," he said humbly, scratching the back of his head nervously.
"If anything happens, I'll be at Orelly's.. I need a drink," I said, leaving my guards at the office.
Orelly's Bar and Breakfast was my favorite place to go, whether it be on business matters or simply to eat and drink. It was slightly expensive for an Under-Town operation, but it sold only the most exquisite brandies and foodstuffs.
"Hey Orelly," I called as I pushed aside the rickety, maggot-infested double doors to the shop.
"Ahh, Tarick. If it isn't my favorite customer," said the old Nord, scratching his white, scruffy beard. Several of the occupants turned to look at me, I recognized several of them.
There was Mr. Galensturm over in the right corner of a bar, in his usual position with his head half-wresting on his hand, sipping wine through his "special straw", and observing the other people inside the bar. Then there was Mr. Telem Faurus, who was a buyer and had done a great many deals with me. He was a great man, and always offered a good price. His face wasn't visible, but I was sure he was aware of my presence. A gorgeous, young waitress stopped by me, and I was dumbfounded for a second.
"Would you like a drink and some food, Mr. Garvil?" she asked me in her singsong voice.
"Ahh.. Uhm I apologize. Yes, actually. I'll have the usual, just ask Orelly what that is, it's quite complicated," I said, too tired to explain what I wanted. I grabbed a chair next to Faurus, and lowered myself into it. "Hello, Telem. How goes the business?"
"It goes bad, I'm afraid. I think I just wasn't cut out for this job," he said sadly.
"Ohh nonsense, Telem. You are doing just fine," I comforted him, patting him on the shoulder. "If anything, I'm the one doin' bad. I just can't find the good stuff these days. Well hell, I suppose none of us can."
"Please, Tarick. That's unnecessary. I'm just going to have to grow up and face the facts," said the Imperial, brushing back one of his bangs that had fallen over his left eye. Telem was atleast ten years older than me, I couldn't imagine him ever quitting the business.
"You seem down.. How 'bout I buy ya a drink eh?" I offered, shaking him by the shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up. Telem was always in a good mood when people were buying him things.
"Ah, how could I refuse!" he said, suddenly happy.
That's when the hooded man entered the room. He pulled out a seat near me and sat in it, his red eyes marking him as a Dunmer, as that's all I could see of him from here. He kept those big, red eyes focused on me, even when I turned away I could feel them burning into my back.
I began to get anxious and annoying, and stood, turning to face the hooded Dark Elf.
"Why are you staring at me?"
"Ocato sent me to you."
"For what? I'm not going to waste my time with you, wretch," I said a little louder now, hand on the pouch which held a small steel dagger.
"So cruel, so naive. Anyways, he requests your immediate appearance at the Palace. You are to report to him in his private quarters. Just talk to a guard, say you're a man named Taeir Johrn, and that Ocato sent you. They will direct you to his quarters," he explained, his voice croaky and unnerving.
I was nervous now, why would Ocato want me? I had been making all the payments on time.
"I know where his quarters are, knave. I know what to do," I spat back at him, insulted at the smirch on my experience.
"I don't much care about that, I only told you what Ocato told me to tell you," he said, leaning back in his chair. I was practically burning with annoyance, and stormed out of the bar without even apologizing and saying goodbye to Telem.