The guise of a slaver - RPLOG
From Rusted Promises
Participants
Date
8/3/480
Log
The market today was awash with agitated beings, a crowd shouting and jerring as they make a circle around a cart while the guards talk to the driver and his escorts. The Rat smiles at the guard, a few teeth shining gold as he tries to persuade the guardsman. "What do you mean I can't sell em here? Ain't it a Creator given right to sell goods in this market place?" He asks. leaning against his cart as the dogged looking Beagle of a guard glares angrily right back without saying a word. The cart itself was wooden, and the cages within the cart make it obvious why the crowd was upset, long faces of beings in shackles, some not even old enough to carry a blade waiting to see what fate had in store for them. A slave trader had come to town.
"No right of yours," comes a rasping growl as Amos Longtooth steps up to join the put upon beagle, "Pretty sure that any beings on that cart belong ta themselves the second you entered Firmament." The scarred tomcat jams his hands in the pockets of his ragged longcoat and fixes his milky, blind eye on the slave trader. "How in seven frozen hells isn't this rat in lockup?"
Millicent wasn't anyone terrible special, but she spent enough time down on her luck to take offense to such brazen exploitation. "Yeah, lock him up!" she calls from the crowd. "See how he likes the shackles!" She eyes the wagon wheels. Maybe if they started to make off with it she could break one and leave them stuck here.
The beagle, an older gentlemen who has been in the guard for longer then most beings here have been holding a blade sighs a little as he leans his pike against his shoulder. "He's saying they are indentured servants." He answers. "That's right!" Snaps back the rat, that same cocky grin still on his face as he holds fast to his claim, slapping one of the cages with enough force it makes the being inside cringe back a bit, a Raccoon girl that couldn't be older then twelve summers. "These all here are indentured thanks to their families, and their own fuck ups, I'm only here to help them aquire jobs to pay off them debts!" He snaps back, but when people start getting more vocal he looks to his two Escorts. An Owl sitting quietly on the wagon's bench with a musket layed across his lap, and a Burly Crab standing at attention with a wicked looking steel mace at his hip.
"Easy to prove," rasps Amos, who has been around since the beagle was a fresh faced recruit, "You have all their papers I assume? And you are ready to tell me why legally indentured servants are in cages like animals?" He grins in an unnerving way that showcases his overgrown fang. "I'm all ears, Rat."
Millicent glances around the street, taking an upturned brick and subtly scooting it right under the wagon wheel with her foot. "Even if it's legal, you've no right to treat them like beasts. They are still Beings!"
The Beagle looks between the two, content in letting the older grizzled veteran argue the situation. The rat lets out a chuckle as he reaches into his vest, belts jangling from the movement as he pulls out a few parchments. Each bearing a seal that Amos wouldn't recognize. "Got them up in Ther'ador, if you must know." He answers, all but beaming even as the crowd continues to hurl insults. Millicent's actions go unnoticed, the brick sliding right behind the crabs foot as he keeps his eyes on the crowd.
Amos scowls and takes the papers, reading them carefully. "I see," the scarred cat says, passing the documents to the Beagle, "Well then, welcome to Firmament. You are, of course, free to. . . hire out your servants. Just as soon as they have undergone the required examination and quarantine." His unnerving grin returns, "Just a formality, of course," he turns to the Beagle, "I assume that they have provided you with keys and signed the paperwork before entering the city?"
Millicent folds her arms, giving a harrumph. Even if it was legal, it didn't seem -right-. And that was upsetting. As a result, she did not feel the least bit guilty for the brick placement or any damage caused as a result of it.
Galve was new on the scene, a little late. He understands the nuances of what was going on.... He wasn't sure if it was legal either.... and he wondered how easy it would be to pick those locks.... and deal with the others. He rested his palm on the hilt of the thick knife at his waist, sizing up the dirty rat's accomplices
The Beagle stands at attention, having had lost some focus while the two were debating the situation. "Hm? No, no he hasn't." He Answers, the Rat looking between the two before wagging a finger. "These servants have been a bit...uppity recently, they don't understand that they have to pay off a debt that their family as caused, so I had to keep them locked up. Giving the key away? Well, what if one of you baffoons let them out hm? Who's going to pay me for transporting them?" He snaps back, slapping the back of his hand against the palm of the other as his gaze slides across the crowd, some beings withering at the gaze from the realization that he may be serious!
"As I see it, friend," Amos says, fixing his milky eye on the rat, "These buffoons are the only reason the good people of Firmament have not already taken a dent out of your profits. I suggest you see to it that all your papers are in order. I will see to it personally that your. . . cargo is well taken care of in your absence. Three day quarantine, and they will be returned to you. Assuming your certificates check out." He salutes the beagle, "If you would be so kind, guard?" he rasps, winking, "Be sure our merchant and his friends get the VIP treatment. I'll see to the servants and the indenturation papers."
Millicent would love to be one of the ones taking a 'dent out of the profits' but she wasn't about to draw her blade in the middle of the streets. No, she'd let people more wisened to the law take care of what was surely something fishier her own river boat.
Galve removes his hands from his cloak and rests them at his sides. It seemed that the others had this under control.... but he was still eyeing those shackles.... and the toughs....
There's a pause from the Rat, thinking as his beady little eyes dart between the two before he snatches at the papers. "Bah, all you'll be doing is slowing me down! How are they supposed to pay off their debts quicker if you're slowing them down. I'll go some place else then!" He answers, snapping his fingers as he moves to start getting up on the wagon as his cohorts do so as well, the Owl's eyes still on Ama and the others.
"I fear it is out of your hands, friend," Amos rasps, "You entered the city without declaring your cargo, you presented false writs of indenture, and you stink like slavers. I recommend you surrender peacefully, your cargo is forfeit already, let's not add your lives."
It sounded like things were picking up. Millicent didn't want to contend with the musket wielding being, so she positions herself more readily to become a target for the crab- If anyone. She doesn't yet act, but she lets her hand stray towards the sword at her hip if things get ugly.
