gillian. (chiburui) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-01-31 11:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, cian wilde, gillian goodwin |
Neckties, contracts, high voltage.
Who: Gillian Goodwin & Cian Wilde.
What: Business.
Where: Cian's casino.
When: Yesterday.
Rating: Mild.
Status: Complete!
Work for today had Gillian scheduled to meet with a man at, of all places of business, one of the city’s many gambling venues. The proprietor of the casino and prospective client had insisted on this particular location, and so she had made certain to arrive early, wandering by card tables and a string of curious employees who had shown her in the direction of one of the private meeting rooms. Knocking on the door and walking inside, the samurai obviously wasn’t one to mill about nervously. “Good day, Mr. Wilde,” she said, nodding to the man in question and casually looking around the room. This was a new and unfamiliar place for her, but she’d already made mental note of the building’s structure, it’s entrances and exits (vulnerabilities, methods of escape--an instinctive habit forged from years of taking on bodyguard work). “Afternoon,” he said. He’d considered setting this meeting at the Bear, or even going to her office, but all things considered, people went in and out of casinos all the time, any time of day, and he was feeling a little nervous these last few days. Better safe than dead; that was always his motto. The private rooms here were used for a variety of things -- the card table would do well enough for the meeting, and the closed door would ensure they were not disturbed. He noted her casual glanced, approved of it. When he entered a new place, he did the same, though he had to imagine his reasons and hers weren’t fully aligned. “Make yourself comfortable. Drink?” he offered. “I’ll have to decline,” Gillian said with a polite wave of her hand (she did have some preferences for getting straight to business). She picked a chair that posed a good view of the doors and the potential client, removing her sword from her belt to allow herself to sit more easily. The katana rested peacefully against one leg, as she obviously had no intent on drawing it here--after all, she and the Black Lions had a longstanding reputation for good business practices. “Now,” she said with interest, raising up a gloved hand to tap at her chin. “What can the Black Lions do for you today?” “Your call.” He obviously hadn’t meant just alcohol, as the glass on the table before him appeared to hold only water. He took a big gulp of it before answering her question. “I hear you do escorts,” he said, “and you’re discreet. I’ve got a person needs to get to Roscoff without worrying about her luggage. She’s got plenty and doesn’t want anyone going through it -- bandits or otherwise.” Or Rangers, he didn’t say, but trusted that she’d get the drift. It would be a bit of a journey to the Ordalian border, but there was no reasonable sea route to the inland town, and he didn’t want to risk air. It would be just his luck that the locals would express an interest, and his reach to Ordalia was basically nonexistent, minus a few business contacts. “Just needs to get quietly there. She’ll be staying there with her family awhile,” he used the term very loosely, “but her cousin’ll need escort back here, probably that day or the next. Should be easier,” he grinned a little wolfishly, “since he packs lighter. Probably take a week or so each way, and she’s ready to go anytime. You got a couple people you can spare?” Gillian listened carefully, and already her mind was filing through details of logistics and manpower, supplies. As mercenaries, the Black Lions didn’t care nor did they ask about what sort of cargo needed transporting or why. “I’ve got a few reliable men,” she said, “with the sort of travel experience you’re looking for.” Fortunately enough, the mercenaries she was considering had returned from southern Valendia not very long ago, and were already eager to get back to work and back on the road. For ease of getting past Ranger checkpoints, however, Gillian knew she needed to have her men well prepared ahead of time. “How much luggage is she looking to move exactly? A cart will draw more attention.” She shrugged her shoulders. “From bandits or otherwise.” “Wish I could say no problem, but she’ll probably need a conveyance of some sort. Light packer, she is not.” Unfortunate, but no way around it; things had to move, and it was better to move them all at once. “Could turn it into a merchant caravan, send along a few more travelers, but then we’d just need more escorts and draw even more attention. I’d prefer to not, given the option, but I’ll take it under consideration if you think that route’s better.” “More risk than it’s worth,” Gillian agreed. “And more expensive for everyone.” There were a number of options to consider in this circumstance, and she would need to run through them with the men as well. Amongst those willing and able to do this sort of work, however, she’d need to ensure that one was a mage worth his salt, both in ability and in travel experience. She grit her teeth thinking it, as she had for the past few weeks. But her personal troubles on that subject had nothing to do with the business at hand, and the samurai fixated her attention to more pertinent issues. “But it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before,” Gillian added confidently. “When will she be ready to move?” “As I said, she’s ready to go anytime. Kind of eager to get moving, actually.” And he was eager to get her and her cargo the hell out of here. “She’ll cool her heels as long as a week, though, if logistics take that long to arrange. You’ll have to let me know. Your call there, since I’m a little shorthanded and she’s kind of jumpy -- I wouldn’t want her wandering off into the wilds alone, and I’ve got no one to send along.” He shrugged his shoulder slightly as if to say, such is business. “You got standard rates for this sort of thing?” he asked. He’d gotten some information from those he’d asked about her reliability, but ultimately, that was secondhand. “Shouldn’t be much fighting, if all goes well, unless some stray wolf gets in the way. I’d prefer it nice and peaceful, given my choice, though I know better than to plan for that -- or make any promises I can’t keep.” He kept his word in business, always. He had no doubt she’d looked him up, too, as much as such info was publicly available, so she’d know it. All details now considered, this wasn’t the most difficult of jobs to prepare for, but the Lions would need to prove themselves both competent--and quick. With the mention of standard rates, Gillian took from her pocket a business card and a pen. Jotting down the usual figures, she handed Mr. Wilde the numbers and allowed him to look it over. “Twenty-four hours,” she said, “and I’ll have the necessary contracts and my men squared away for travel. If that suits you?” He looked at the price, considered. It was a rush job, no question, and he hadn’t expected it to be cheap but… “Half now, half upon return, and then yes, it suits me.” Still less expensive than the risk of letting her go unaccompanied. “Providing transport goes smooth. If there are problems I need to get involved in,” especially the legal kind, “we may have the renegotiate part two of the payment. If that suits you.” “Fair enough, all considered,” Gillian said after reviewing his terms. For the sake of profit, she would need to ensure that undue complications did not arise. In other words, just another day on the job. “Then it seems we have a deal.” |