1866-10-06: Gangs of Four Corners
Gangs of Four Corners
Summary: Mattias moves from high society to low society with ease, having just met with Guillaume Tyres, the banker moves amidst the slums of Four Corners to meet with those he had supported throughout the ravages of the plague.
Date: IC Date
Related: Recent plague related logs and the rise of the Cohorts within 4C.
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Mattias  

The armoured banker moved with a relative ease, even as the streets became a little more dilapidated and the canals a touch filthier and strewn with rubbish and other assorted detritus. The usual three hand cannon were braced against his chest, while a small fruit knife tucked into his belt offered a rather more fanciful measure of security although it could just perhaps do some harm if wielded so and against his shoulder a laden satchel hung heavily. All eyes were upon Mattias, feet pattered to inform of the impending arrival of Mattias himself and sure enough the door marked with a plague cross was swung open upon his approach and into the dark and crumbling house that might well one have been great the banker stepped.

A nod here, a nod there and Mattias entered the damp and crumbling house with nary a hint of protest or disgust, the surroundings were as natural to him as high society and only once he had stepped into what had once been a dining room did Mattias remove his tricorn and set it down upon the table beside a chair, "It is good to finally meet you." The banker's tones filled the dining room as he stepped forward and offered his ungloved hand to the man who was clearly the leader, though each and all within wore a red armband, it was clear from the man's presence and bearing that he was the man he was here to meet.

With hands clasped and greetings offered, the banker gestured to the table and set the satchel down and from its depths he drew a wooden casket, plain and yet beautifully wrought in dark wood with fine bronze hinges, "It would be a poor guest who arrived empty handed." The casket once set upon the table was unlocked by a key drawn from a pouch upon his belt and the lid lifted. Though it was a small casket, it contained enough room to hold six small stacks of coin, each neatly stacked and held in place to ensure they remained nothing if not neat and orderly by nine exquisitely cut pieces of dowl.

"Sixty gold doves, a start one might say." Mattias offered as he regarded the eyes all fixed upon his first offering, "That should afford you a few decent weapons and armour and there is always more to be earned in aiding myself just as I shall always aid you. Information is what I desire and those gathered about me are nothing short of experts in being seen only when they so desire. Together we shall ensure your success, these are dangerous times and it is together that we shall continue to bring about change and know that any Cohort who seeks to join you and I will be equally well supplied. There is strength in numbers." The gloved hand of the banker gestured to the old and fading surroundings before once again the satchel was opened and an item drawn from it.

"Ghost Hills Apple Brandy, so rare a find beyond the lands of the glorious Baroness Quinn…" A quirk of a smile spread slowly across the banker's face as he unstoppered it and paused only to withdraw a clink of glasses from the depths of the satchel, each of which was soon filled with its measured sips worth of exquisite brandy from afar and with each small glass claimed, Mattias soon claimed his and lifted it high into the air.

"The Cohorts! Though new to Four Corners, long may they protect those whom other lesser men have forgotten. The Cohorts."

A cheer rang and the brandy was knocked back and glass after glass filled and re-filled and it was only once the bottle was empty did Mattias gather his tricorn, set the key beside the gold destined for weapons and armour and take his leave. The gift of such fine brandy having been left to a good many of the Cohorts, while Mattias having had but the one toast's worth had allowed for the poor slum-dwellers to enjoy its exquisite taste for they would never see beyond the slums.

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