| A Meeting with the Escarra |
| Summary: | After arranging for the meeting and some company, Tristan meets with representatives from House Escarra. |
| Date: | 1866-02-26 |
| Related: | A Meeting with Tristan |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
  
and Raymundo Escarra |
| An Inn in Firen |
| See scene set…. |
| 1866-02-26 |
The Escarra family is a prominent merchant family, based out of Firen though they have 'shops' in most of the larger cities. One step below nobility, and with more coin than some lordships! but that is often the way of an enterprising common merchant.
Of course, they are also, known to those who deal with the shadowy underworld in their line of work, a member house of the vaunted Syndicate: a multinational organization of crime families, each with their very own special talents that they bring to the whole.
At least that's what non-Syndicate persons believe. In truth? The Galenthian crime families have never stood together, not even during the wars.
What is true is that the Escarra are criminals, if organized ones, and organize the bulk of the smuggling and black market trading in Galenthia. In fact… rumor has it that at certain points during the Succession War, the Escarra even handled specific… royal cargo… for the Rose.
The invitation from the Queen's spy to meet was greeted with a date, time, and location. The location was a quiet tavern in Firen's merchant sector, and when Tristan arrives, he (and no more than two guards, should he have them) is escorted back to a private room usually rented out for business meetings.
Lounging in one of the comfortable chairs in the room, set up more like a study than a board room, is a red-haired courtesan that perhaps the Romante lord had met before a time or two. She looks almost bored, but the man leaning against the wall nearby, sipping from a cup of wine looks to easily be her brother: the same face, the same hair— just a few years older.
A bottle of Romante red sits opened on the small table, 1849 from the lable on the bottle: a highly rare vintage, worth a small fortune.
In no small part because the small crop from that year hand only produced a limited number of bottles, the bulk of which had been stolen by unknown persons.
The Romante Lord arrived with two Lancers, both of whom accompany him into the tavern, but are both quickly told to have a seat near enough to the door. Coming with the guards was one thing, letting them listen in on any conversation was quite another thing entirely. For a moment he scans the room, his eyes taking in everything there is to see. Nodding slowly to himself, he lets himself be lead forward to the private room, his gaze traveling from the woman to the man and then back again to the woman.
"Good evening. Thank you for meeting with me on such, ah, short notice." Tristan offers the woman a smile first before nodding his head and smiling at the slightly older man. Stepping over to the table, he reaches down to pick up the bottle, examining it. "Ah… a good year." He says simply, placing the bottle back down on the table and then taking a seat in a chair accross from Safran.
"It is our pleasure," The Sphinx… no, Safran, here, as her business is less pleasurable and more familial, replies with a slight purr to her tone. "Please. Have some wine. We brought it out of our private collection for you."
Her brother lifts his glass in a salute, taking a sip. "I am Raymundo Escarra," he says coolly. "I trust you've met my sister, Safran." There's an amused look on his face for a moment. "You seem to be the type." Then he settles into another chair, relaxed, and his gaze flits to his sister, who seems to be the one in control of the meeting for now.
"How may we serve, Lord Tristan?" Safran asks with a smile, her eyes alight with vague amusement like there is a joke that only she is hearing. Her question seems serious enough. "Or would you like to wait for your other companion to join before we speak of business?"
Tristan tilts his head slightly, smiling. "Of course, my thanks then." Taking one of the offered glasses, he raises it to his lips and takes a sip, enjoying the taste of the wine. Nodding, he swallows. "It is good to meet you." A nod to Raymundo as he settles back into his chair. "My companion should be here shortly, but if he is not here then we can begin. I do not wish to take up more of your time than I have to. I understand the value of time." Another faint smile, he knows damn well that time is a luxury no one could afford to waste on normal days much less during troubled times.
Speaking of Tristan's other companion. That man arrives now brought here by a similar invitation, though Aidric Charing brings no guards just the sword and dagger by his side. Though as he passes through the door into the almost-study, he registers surprise at the presence of Raymundo. "Good evening," he greets guarded as he moves towards the table.
Safran winks at Aidric as he enters, tthen sits up from her lounging poisiton, looking far more serious. "Time is a rather heavy coin to pay, that is true." She gestures to the wine and Aidric, then looks frankly at the two men, one Rose, one former Thorn.
"Shall we begin? Where do you need to go, my lords?" Gone is the toying questions and bandied words.
Raymundo nods slowly, looking them both over consideringly. "Might have to cut down the finery a bit, at least while traveling. But wherever you need to be, we'll get you there. Yesterday, if that's the need." He's joking at the last bit, but his tone indicates only just. "We may not be knights, but we keep our contracts."
It seems the Escarra are not exactly aware of why this meeting was called, and have drawn their own conclusions.
Tristan glances over at Aidric for a moment, giving the man a nod before returning his attention to Safran and Raymundo, and then raising an eyebrow. "Let me apologize, perhaps I was a little vague when I sent word asking for a meeting…" Tristan pauses for a moment, offering a slight smile. "We are not here to contract your services, rather we are here with some information for you both."
Pausing to consider his words, Tristan takes another sip of the wine. It really was quite good. He didn't know if he had a bottle of this particular year back in the palace, likely someone did. Maybe he would raid Melisande's private cellar. Right. Focus on the topic at hand. "Both of you are people of business. Myself and my companion are not, but I do understand some of the basic principles behind good business. First and foremost, order."
"I use the word order over say… stability because we all know that instability can breed lucrative trade in particular markets, but it is the ordered mind who can take advantage of this and profits the most. Business was moving along for House Escarra even with the troubles in Galenthia, that is until recently." Again Tristan pauses, his eyes moving between Safran and Raymundo, trying to read their reactions to what he is saying.
"Currently there are troubles which has broken down this order. Troubles that have been manufactured to cause just the type of chaos that has been happening. The troubles I speak of are both problematic for my Queen as much as they are for you both." Another sip of the wine is taken, Tristan's mind working through a few possibilities. Finally he settles on something and says, "I would like to make a proposal. I have a few things to tell you. Simply listen to what I have to say. If you believe it to be of value then perhaps we can come to some sort of understanding after that to form a more mutually beneficial relationship moving forward."
Aidric moves to a seat and helps himself to some wine while Tristan speaks. The first sip is met with a small smile and a murmured remark of "Good year," before he leans back into the embrace of the chair cup held in hand as he listens to Tristan's words.
<FS3> Aidric rolls Perception: Great Success.
<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception: Good Success.
Safran and Raymundo exchange glances, and Safran lifts a brow at her brother, then sips at her own wine, gesturing for him to take over the conversation.
Raymundo snorts. "Not surprising," he mutters. "The Whyte served the Thorn," and he lifts a hand as if to forstall any arguments, "and there's a dozen or more dead Rose Romantes that would tell you as much, including Lord Beringuer, the Rose's brother." He shakes his head. "We served the Rose, the rightful ruler. Why? Because of much of what you just said: business. War is bad for business, both sides of our business. His Majesty Arturo was not only a good man, but a practical one; he understood this, and he made use of us."
He pauses, sipping his cup. "War is good for their business. Maybe not the legitimate side, but coin on the other side more than makes up for the loss. We lose coin regardless." He frowns. "I'll listen to you, Lord Tristan. I know your words come from the Rose herself, and I will obey." He knuckles his brow— and even Safran does the same, thought with a vague hint of amused irony.
Tristan hears the words and his eyes widen slightly. "My father?" He considers this for several long moments, well some of this made sense. No society could be perfect and there was always going to be a trade in illegal services and goods. Better to know… well, there was time for such thoughts later. Blinking, he nods and swallows. "Very well, let me tell you what I have come to tell you then."
"These troubles between you and the Whytes were orchestrated by those who served the man calling himself the Grey Prince. The raiding of the caravans were seen to by members of the mercenary company known as the Grey Company. One of their mercenaries revealed as much as we interrogated him, Lord Stephen Sokar was with me and heard the confession as well. Even as we speak he is making arrangements to meet with representatives of the Whytes to share this information." Tristan raises a hand to rub lightly along his chin. "Additionally, there was a stash of alchemical goods that was broken into and looted by one of the men serving the Grey Prince directly."
Aidric scowls slightly when he pieces it together. Lord Beringuer, of course, Tristan's father. Low blow to bring that up now. "It's true what they say, I had no part in the killings, but my uncle did hire his blades from the Syndicate," he says before looking to the Escarra. "Which includes House Whyte apparently." He takes a sip of wine when Tristan speaks and can't say he's surprised by the news, except about the alchemy. "Interesting," he remarks but doesn't say more waiting on the Escarra to speak.
Safran's eyes widen, and Raymundo rises to his feet, cursing. "You're speaking to the Whytes? Are you truly the Prince of Fools you pretend to be, then?" He lets out a breath, shaking his head. "Lord Tristan," he grits out after he's a touch calmer. "The Whytes killed your father. And others of your kin, at the command of Anton. It meant nothing to them 'cept the coin they were paid. Her Majesty lost one of her blasted Lancers to them— I'll bet all I have they got to him, turned him. And you're treating with them? The Whytes started this damned war. Three times, I swear it— I was riding with the caravan they torched. I barely made it away with my life to report to my uncle." And he pulls up his shirt slightly, showing a long fresh scar across his abdomen. "…holding in my guts as I rode."
He frowns. "Narvaez Alchemicals? If the Thorn's men have those, there will be trouble. They deal not just in opium haze and flutter; but they've got alchemicals can make a man… stronger than he is for a time." Raymundo scratches his temple. "Not feel pain, you know? And worse still yet. We've transported tem from time to time, both above and below the boards, if you know what I mean. Ain't none of your pretty everlights, and if they got a warren…" he glances to Safran.
She frowns. "A warren holds what, 300 crates, give or take?"
"If it was a large one," Raymundo replies, "double that."
Now the nobles see smuggler math at work. "Mmm," Safran closes her eyes, fingers twitching as she calculates. "10 vials to a crate, somewhere between 3000 and 6000 vials?"
"Would need at least two full caravans to move," Raymundo notes. "If they ain't carrying anything else. Assuming the crates are padded like they ought."
"The point of this meeting is not to discuss what to do against the Whyte's right now, the point is that there is currently conflict between the two of your families has been manufactured by outside parties. They were manipulated into their actions." Tristan says quickly, his mind racing at Raymundo's words. "Call it an attempt at a temporary peace until this Grey Prince and the nobles working for them have been dealt with." He pauses and finishes off his glass of wine, placing it on the table and then stands up to pace. "Either way, you have my thanks for this information. I had always assumed it had been the Thorns."
"Yes, so the problem is the issue at hand. Later… later when this war has been settled, we can see about a more permanent solution to the Whyte's." He lets the two of them discuss the various alchemical items, with some interest.
<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception: Good Success.
<FS3> Aidric rolls Perception: Good Success.
Aidric's eyes flick between Safran and Raymundo as they do the math. "I am not sure what's more impressive that you do that math in your heads or that there was that much alchemicals to steal from a low born gang," he says. "What would the value of all that be? And is it a major hit to these Narvaez?" he asks curiously.
He does however sit up when Tristan makes his point and he offers a nod of agreement. "If the Whytes have been doing the killing and did corrupt her Majesty's Lancer I am sure she will not mind the Whytes put to the dirt, it's the timing that we have a problem with, the war disrupts trade in a time in which it is needed most. If we in this room let the trade be disrupted and the Rose Queen loses the war as a result, whom do you think the Thorns will be kinder to, you, or the Whytes. So, a little cooperation now may pay off for you in the end."
Raymundo nods slightly at Aidric. "We'll do our best— I can't ask our people to not defend themselves, but I can agree on our behalf to not seek out their people. That's the best I can offer. We'll focus on getting our caravans running more reliably, and not on vengeance. Not yet."
He smirks at Aidric. "Depends on what was exactly in the warren. Stuff like Flash powder ain't worth too much…" he looks pleased to talk business and numbers, "but some of the deeper alchemy stuff is worth a knight's ransom, or more, each vial. If there was a lot of fleshknit or spirits vigor in there? Probably as much as some of your lordships bring to the tab le in a year or two." He considers. "Opium sells for a bit to healers and addicts alike."
"Then there's alchemical poisons," Safran notes. "Some of them make an assasination look like a natural death. Those are difficult to make, and very expensive." She frowns.
Raymundo matches her frown. "The Narvaez will certainly feel that, but they haven't stepped into the house war. I wonder why?"
Safran swats her brother. "I'm the asker of questions, big brother," she teases absently. "But you're right, Lord Aidric," she sobers visibly. "And if the crown needs us to transport them or their agents through Thorn-held territory again, even with the Rose dead, we will hold to our word to him."
"You have our thanks then." Tristan nods to Raymundo and then Safran. "As I said, a temporary truce is enough for now, though I am wondering what impact this loss of alchemical goods might have, but judging on the numbers the two of you are throwing around I cannot imagne that the Narvaez will allow for such losses to go without some sort of reprisal." As if he is thinking along the same lines of Raymundo, he asks, "Perhaps they are seeking to find out more about what happened before they strike? However one question I have is… how would these Thorns know where to find this warren?"
"Of course we wouldn't expect you not to defend yourselves. Especially with your kind agreement to our terms, so, if the Whytes agree to this peace and break it by all means bring us proof of that act." The costs mentioned makes Aidric's eyes round slightly. "Impressive," he says shaking his head. "And the Narvaes can weather such a loss?" he shakes his head again before listening to Tristan's questions and adding one more. "And can a meeting with the Narvaez be arranged? Given this attack on their property it would be good to bring them up to date on who is responsible for it."
Raymundo shakes his head. "If you want to treat with the Narvaez," he says shortly, "That's on your head. We can't help you with it." He doesn't answer if they can weather such a loss. He doesn't answer anything on those lines, to be honest. "And how the Thorns knew? You'd have to ask them," he says bitterly. "Maybe the Whytes told them, if it was a warren they've serviced before. But if thats all," he offers a hand to help his sister to her feet, "I've got to go and relay a cease-fire, least on our end."
Safran rises, looking a bit peevish. "Messy business, all this. Do get things cleared up soon as you can?" she asks cheerily to the two noblemen. With a wink at Aidric, she departs, leaving her brother alone in the room with them a few moments more in case they have any further to add.
Nodding, Tristan rises as well. There's nothing else for him to add on his end and so he glances towards Aidric before saying. "Thank you for meeting with us, I appreciate your time and if there is anything I may be able to do for you simply pass me a message in the palace." He steps towards the door and then turns around. "If we come across someone who had any direct link to these things, would you care to have a chat with them?" One final question because perhaps it's time to start raising the stakes for those involved with the Grey Prince and his backers.
Aidric nods a fond goodbye to Safran before turning to Raymundo. "You've been more than fair and very informative, so if I can be of any service in return please send a message to me as well. Safran knows where I am to be found." Then, he rises waiting to hear the reply to Tristan's question.
<FS3> Aidric rolls Perception+5: Great Success.
<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception+5: Success.
Tristan spends 1 luck points on Reroll.
<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception+5: Success.
Raymundo stops and tilts his head at Tristan's words. "If it pleases your Lordship," he replies carefully. "I will certainly speak with whomever you would wish."
Tristan offers another nod to Raymundo. "Have a pleasant evening." A smile and then he heads out the door.
Aidric too bids Raymundo "Good night," before heading to the door.