Do you want to know a Secret?

[Suede]

Fire. Ash. Rot. Death. Destruction. All the signs of war are upon the city, and like a moth to the proverbial flame, the uglier side of society will always take advantage of such situations.

Massive armies destroying crops and supplies, making trade difficult, and thrusting the people of Myrkentown into living conditions that even the rats don't care for. But all is not lost, for new traders have appeared in the town. The trick is, what they trade isn't always legal.

"Listen.. Do you want to know a secret?" Men hiding their faces appear seemingly at random to spread word. The Black Market is in town.

"Supplies, food, clothing.... and many other more -interesting-items." They offer it all, for a price of course. Subtle and quiet at first, word spread quickly across amongst the lower class, to the point where the business is handled nearly in the open.

How though? Storiess have spread of several guards being bribed to 'forget' the inspections of certain wagons. Rumors spread though, and each time the tale becomes more extreme to the point of ridiculous. Some even dare claim that people further up the chain of authority have been bought, but those are just rumors.....

Right?

No one knows who's orgazining the 'Market' within town, few have seen his face, and those who have are keeping quiet Will they stay that way? If they want to deal, oh they well. Food and money are an excellent way to convince the people to ignore the law.

[Suede]

The sun was shining in the late midafternoon, the forest was calm, only the gentle sway of the vibrant green against the wind. It was a perfect day unless someone were to wander several miles from the town of Myrkenwood, where they would find something to peek their interest only moments away.

Looks would be deceiving at first, for upon following a particular path someone might see a simple cart being led towards the town by a large horse. On the cart sat the infamous organizer of the recent black market expansion, and a tailor.

Suede, local pervert was currently up front eyeing the road as he pleaded with it to shrink in size and make his trip shorter. Chin supported by a palm, gaze kept moving to glare at the green haired elf to his left, who currently held the reigns of the horse.

"99 bottles of ale on the wall, 99 bottles of ale, you take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of ale on the wall. 98 bottles of a-"

"Oh would you knock that off, Canthag! You've been at it for an hour!" It was practically bellow, but it didn't come from everyone's favorite tailor, rather from behind, where 2 more people were currently walking. One held a staff over his head in threat, ready to bean the mouth guiding the cart.

"Hey, it's something to do, you know how long we've been out here?" Was the only reply he received before the song resumed.

"We'd be there by now if you hadn't decided to get us lost." A grumbled before the speaker looked down towards the road, perhaps to find a decent sized rock.

Beyond the singing, silence befell the group for the next 10 minutes, a call to halt came from the side of the road, piercing the 'peace'. Two soldiers from one army or another had decided to bother our innocent friends. None could be sure which force they were for, too many different units running around to bother learning them.

Suede would smile, and sit up straight in his spot, offering a wave to the gentlemen. "Ah, good day to you sirs, can we help you with something?"

Mmmm, perhaps he shouldn't have spoken, as this was all the incentive that was needed for the first soldier to train a crossbow on him. Arms were raised to show his palms and keep himself from being a ka-bob for any passing dragon. "Just stay where you are while we check your cart."

"I don't believe you can do, after all isn't it the responsibility for the town militia to search and tax us when we reach Myrkenwood." A glance behind showed his other 2 compatriots were missing.

A scoff, and this crossbow weilding tyrant merely signalled for his friend to move around to search the contents of their cart. Canthag shifted uneasily, trying to glance towards the back without seeming obvious. If they searched the cart and saw the contents, there would be trouble.

He didn't have to worry long, as the two missing tailers dove from the woods, cloaks covering their movements as they tackled into each guard. Suprised, a crossbolt was sent loose and off course, slamming into Suede's right forearm. His body twisted to the with a yelp of pain. The tailor simply stayed where he was curled in upon the injury.

Both soldier's were soon dead, muffled screams the only clues to their departure as daggers dug into chest behind the folding drapes of the assailants' cloaks. Once dead no time was wasted for their bodies to be dragged from the road and into the bush. People would come looking, and it was best not to make it easy for them.

Suede was cursing up a storm by the time the scene was cleared, and Canthag was trying to pry the arm into view. It took all three of his companions to force his skewered appendage into the open to reveal the bolt lodged clean through the arm. No words were spoken as he was braced and the back end of the bolt cut. A dagger was shoved into his mouth and eyes slammed shut as the remaining shaft was pulled through the arm.

The tailor fell slack in his seat after the ordeal and simply closed his eyes, free hand holding several rags to the fresh wound as they started out once more for good old Myrkenwood. Canthag finally stopped singing....

Thank the lord.

Ah yes, The sun was shining in the late midafternoon, the forest was calm, only the gentle sway of the vibrant green against the wind. It was a perfect day.

[Tyralor]

Suede's largest problem would always remain the guard and the militia of Myrkentown itself.

Lt. Kilborn had never been the sort to turn a blind eye to such business, and recent events had caused him to organize the Guards all that much more effectively. A certain scene in the previous gaol, had been the cause for a good portion of the shrinking in the size of the guard to begin with, as those more prone to bribery had been tracked down and released from service. Those that remained, were not given regular duties.

To have specific individuals repeating the same task again and again, Kilborn had found, created a certain dullness. A certain laxness of responsibility. To ensure that tasks were not nearly so repeticious, or people didn't get so weary of them, it was rare, for the same guards to be in place for more than a week at a time. Scheduling was a hassle perhaps, but one of those tasks that Kilborn undertook with an amount of flair.

He'd learnt a great deal while he'd been in residence here. And one of those, was how to make any organization of criminal activity in the town of Myrken, to be a hassle, rarely worth achieving.

[Suede]

Suede was currently staring down a fairly large guard near the edge of Myrken Town, quite a feet seeing as he had to look up to such a height. Lips pursed in a thin line, he glanced over to Canthag, who was simply doing his best not to get noticed. The tailor rolled his eyes and peered back at the man before him.

"Why should I let you search my cart? You'll tear up all the fabrics! Do you realize how much these delicates cost me?" Hands were thrown into the air, something he regretted when he remembered one arm was still not so happy.

"City rules, all carts must be inspected, stand aside and let us do our job." The guard was eyeing him carefully, suspicion evident.There was a motion to his companions whom were currently approaching Suede from behind.

"I won't let you do it, no way, if anything is torn I won't be able to finish my orders this week. I swear if you... HEY! Let me go!" large arms laced beneath his shoulders, a guard on either side holding him back. Suede struggled and continued to rant, switching between the indignities of it all, and his precious silks being ruined. This drew attention of most of the folks in the area, Canthag included, whom only sighed and rolled his eyes.

As the guards began to ruffle through the back of the cart, despite the tailor's complaints, the greenhaired elf took note of a passing detail from of some of the new resident soldiers in the area. 16 rows of 2 all said and done, each armed with sword and spear, and the two in the back carrying a large trunk more then likely filled with other things used to break bone and pierce flesh. The guards merely waving them through, they seemed a bit preoccupied with the aggitated pervert, and the soldiers weren't a problem to consider when on active patrols.

His curious gaze continued to follow the troops until they all turned a corner, save those with the trunk, whom disappeared into an alley the opposite way. A glance around proved that he was the only one to take notice. Groaning he yelled out to his companion, whom was still struggling.

The elf waved a hand to draw some attention before speaking. "Hey, Suede, just shut up already, if they're going to trash your things it's a little late to stop it now." This seemed to be enough, as said man simply went slack in the grip of the guards.

Another 10 minutes passed before the inspection was finished and Suede was released. The guard whom had spoken to him seemed disappointed, and still rather suspicious as the grumbling man climbed into the back of his cart, tending to his supplies. Various statements about 'idiot ruffians' and 'this is a waste' could be heard as Canthag guided the cart into the city.

Suede poked his head out the back once the checkpoint was long since passed, grinning slyly to his little buddy. "Well that went rather well, I take it Kyle and Sean made it by okay?"

"Of course. Lets go get something to eat." A nod in agreement and off they went to find a tasty meal, but not before having a letter delivered.


Later that day a small note would be found at the gaol. Just a simple piece of paper folded in with the infamous Kilborn's name upon the front. It simply read;

"The ants go marching two by two, huzzah, huzzah,
The ants go marching two by two, huzzah, huzzah
The ants go marching two by two, and the little one stopped to wink at you,
And they all go marching into Myrken Town!

-Love, The Market

[Tyralor]

Joshua regarded the note, for quite some time. Obviously someone had chosen to pick him out of the lot specifically, though to what end, he wasn't exactly certain. Nor, could he fathom out precisely what the note was going on about.

In truth, it was simply too many possibilities. Afterall, the merchants, with the increased patrols and guards, might very well be displaying their appreciation by the little commentary. If that was the case though, then why not deliver it in person? Most other notions were similarly discarded. At least, until he settled on the most likely solution.

He knew that with the war, someone would be running some scheme underneath the noses of the populace. Someone would be providing articles for sale that might not be otherwise typically available. The bulk of these were drugs of course. Purchasing weapons wasn't exactly uncommon or illegal. Simply generally unaffordable.

Two by two. That stuck out in the end. Military precision typically involved a standard march of two by two. Which meant, summarily, someone was using the soldiers of the region, in one fashion or another, to transport the unknown goods into the region.

The Order of Straka, he knew well enough. After the affair some months ago, there was little question of what lengths he'd go through to shed the Order of any spoilt blood. Beyond that, he trusted the officers in charge, and the sergeants. If it was a member of the Order that was providing assistance, it would not last long. The men knew each other and were pretty much loyal to the region.

Which, of course, meant that, if he understood everything correctly, it was merely a few of the sixteen thousand that would be encamped in the region in the near future. And that, was going to make his task undoubtedly more difficult. At the moment though, the primary concern were the few mercenaries in the region that'd volunteered their services, and the Thessilane forces.


To Duke Burel, of Thessilane.

A recent notice has arrived at my office, that has led me to a few suspicions concerning some activities in the region. With the increase in soldiers that are travelling through Myrken Town, there has been allusions that some of the more nefarious elements, are attempting to use this development to set up shop inside the region. I have no knowledge of which faction is assisting these elements, but without assistance, I may have to take action against all troops deployed in the region.

I would ask you to look into any efforts to impersonate, or bribe your men to provide cover or assistance to these elements. Any information or knowledge you come across, I would request be shared. If it is discovered that they are affiliated with your forces in any fashion, then Myrken Town will leave it to you, to discipline them appropriately.

Lieutenant Joshua Kilborn, Order of Straka



It was penned and sent out, though he wasn't exactly happy with the language. It wasn't exactly diplomatic, and it still sounded too accusatory for his tastes, even though Key had given her approval when he'd checked with her. Damn Duvall. He could sweetalk his way through anything. He really should be here for this.

Other forces of course, were sent similar letters, though due to the nature of mercenaries and their willingness to take any contract, there was an additional line, that stated they would likely be random searches of all forces moving through the walls and into Myrken Town.

Another thought occured to him, and another missive was planned.

To the bloody and Arrogant Gis

The first effort, crumpled up and burnt.

To the Esteemed Giscard Guillaume, Councillor of Trade and Commerce

I have been the recent recipient of a missive, that has suggested to me that there are those about winking in the direction of honesty and justice. Based on the information I have managed to gather, it is suggesting that there are efforts presently, to create, or expand a black market within the region of Myrken Wood. Measures are being undertaken by the Guard to eradicate these developing efforts.

Lieutenant Joshua Kilborn, Order of Straka

Over the next day or two, tents, or pavillions would be raised on either side of the gates in and out of Myrken Town. Queries would be answered with the concept that the tents were to provide shelter against the sun, for those waiting to travel into or out of the own, as the number of soldiers were increasing.

[Suede]

Not far from town, resting beneath the shade of a hearty and happy tree was Suede. Back dipped into a fairly comforting bend of the massive trunk, hands clasped together between legs that spread to either side. The day was quiet, rather splendid after the storm from the night before, a light dew still upon the grass, which had been so convenient as to soak into the backside of his pants, perhaps why he had no intention of moving for a bit. Despite the heat already beating down from the sun, Suede was comfortable thanks to the breathe of wind which kept returning, rustling leaves to provided the only sound nearby. He was relaxed, with a lazy smile gracing thinned lips.

Half lidded eyes were watching Myrkentown, or more specifically the tents being placed up at the gate there. Voices, grunts, and the distinct ping of hammers could be heard as he squinted just a bit more. The color, oh the color of the bloody thing was so drab. The tailor had been desperately hoping for yellow and red stripes, so much more fun would be had with that. Oh well.

What were they for? He was anxious, no matter what the guards might be planning, nothing would stop him. He was eager for some entertainment, but until he knew where he stood, no moves could be made. This was worse then playing chest with a halfblind old man. Oh, it was known they were not actually for providing shelter from the sun. A simple coverup, and would fool the masses, but anyone with half a brain will suspect.

Ah well, with next move already planned, it mattered not what would be coming. A soft chuckle passed through parted lips before he slouched further into the tree. Arms crossed and eyes closed, Suede let himself drift off for a nice afternoon nap. He would later regret this after dreaming of eating glass and chess boards that involved pawns with flaming arrows and his half of the board catching on fire.

[Tyralor]

To all members of Myrken Wood.

Due to the advance of enemy forces, and their current unknown location, the following steps have been put in measure to assure your continued safety, and prevent any horde agents from having free access, within the township itself.

The Town Gates will be shut from sundown till sun up. No individual, will be permitted in, or out of the township during this time frame.

Pavillion tents, which will be monitored closely by the Order of Straka, have been set up to provide protection against the elements, for those caught outside or within during these time frames.

It is imperative, that all members of Myrkentown, maintain viligance during this most difficult of time. We thank you for your cooperation.

Order of Straka.

It would also, not surprisingly, allow the guards to inspect all the goods that passed in and out of the gates, from the comfortable shade. Even members of the various forces, would be forced to endure some delays, while their equipment would be searched. Afterall, why would military men, require anything more than a few coins, to enjoy an afternoon in the city.

[Vanidor]

"M'lord, these restrictions placed upon the city by the Order are most odd indeed. Have you any guesses as to why?" The general sent a glance towards his Duke, after reading the proclimation that had been delivered to the stockade. Burel sat, just chuckling softly upon his camp-chair.

"They are well and good. Well and good. I bet you a Orvere gold-piece, to one from Heath that Kilborn is at the centre of this." He chuckled softly, then waved his hand. "Post an order, General Dross. Make it a... well. A general one." Another soft chuckle, then Burel swept forwards and leveled his elbows upon the desk before him.

"Only in groups of five are they allowed into the city, and one of them must stay sober at all times. Else I will find a way to punish them, even though we happen to be far from home. No accouterments either, they go in off duty uniform and their simple kits. Patrols that go in are to be accompianed by one of the Companions. We do not need any funny buisness, now do we..." Burel grinned softly, then leaned back in his chair. The thing creaked softly, under his weight. "And find someone to get me a better chair. By damn, I just wait for this thing to collapses under me."

General Dross left the room chuckling.

[Suede]

"I can't believe you have us dressed up like this, I look like a bloo... oof!" What was sure to be a most lovely tiriade of manly complaints was quickly cut short by an elbow to an oddly feminine stomach.

"Shhhh... be quiet you idiot. Besides! This will be great." A pointed glare from Suede silenced the man next to him, or -was- that the tailor? Anyone glancing their way wouldn't have seen him, but instead four slightly masculine ladies all standing beneath the pavilion outside the gates of Myrken. It would seem Suede is up to one of his games again.

For if you looked closely enough at these four visions of loveliness... they weren't ladies at all, but rather Suede and his band of 'merry men', all dressed in the finest silken gowns fit for ladies of the court. Each man was adorned in victorian gowns of cream, maroon, sky blue, and pastel green. Suede claiming the maroon of course. Wigs done up in buns, tendrils hanging down to cheekbones. Ridiculous amounts of make-up decorating their faces to hide features. Each wore high heals and carried a fan. The fan used along with a conveniently large hat to help hide themselves beneath the glaring sun, as well as making a lovely mask.

And despite the heels they were managing to walk, and look rather graceful. As long as a point was made to ingore the recent outburst. The group had been standing in line for near an hour now, and as soon as the old man in front of them stopped staring and moved, they could pass through. A silent sigh made, Suede batted his eyelashes while hiding smirking lips behind the fan. A slight turn to the side, with dip and giggle... the poor tailor looked the epitome of middle age valley girl. Fortunately this snapped the bloody coot out of his daze.

"Next in line, keep it moving." A good sharp heel on Canthag's foot to wake the elf up, then our favorite tailor placed his best innocent eyes out for the world to see and approached the guard. When he walked, hips swayed to a point no man should be able to manage. Suedette gave the guard a sweet smile as he... or she, stood just inside the man's personal space. He began to twist back and forth a bit before seemingly coming to a decision.

A hand fell on the guard's arm, the poor fool blinked and turned a fair shade of red as the fingers ran up and down that muscled appendage, Then the tailor spoke as he three other compatriots simply composed themselves into giggling schoolgirls behind their fans. "Oh, it's so good to know such a -big-.... -strong-....-handsome- man is taking care of the city and making sure no dangerous ruffians get in who could do such harm to little old me." The southern bell voice ran out with sickeningly sweet praise, Suede's hand continuing up to touch the guard's face.

The man swallowed, hard. The poor fool, thinking Suede really was a woman flirting with him, shuddered a bit, before squeaking out a classic, "Just doing my job, ma'am." His hand reaching up to pull on his collar before staring down at the papers before him."Do you.. uh... have anything to be searched before entering the city today, ma'am?"

"Me? Oh no sweetheart, we just came ahead of our fathers, they'll be around later with our things." Now is where sweet Suedette pressed himself closer to the point the puffed skirt was brushing against the man's leg. "All we have to search is ourselves." A seductive smile as the tailor leaned in even closer, that feminine voice still ringing out.

"You can't very well search us out here, but maybe after you let us through... you could give us a private -examination-?" Suedette's hand would now fall down to land on the man's chest with a soft gasp. Poor tailor, internally the man was screaming 'GUY GERMS! EW EW EW!' and had to keep such a pleasant visage on the outside. How he did it could truly be the 8th wonder of the world.

Our victim guard, whom was now wide-eyed and considerably flustered, found himself without a voice and could only wave the four ladies through, nodding over and over. His fellows were whistling and cheering the poor fool on from their various posts about the tent. All in all a nice little scene which was greatly slowing down the inspections and searches of the other people wishing to pass into the city.

Suedette stepped back from the man, offering a dubiously shy wave and wink. A curtsey and s/he turned back to the three others. "Ladies! Lets be off then!" With that all four ladies walked past the guards at the gate, hips swaying to the stares of the men in their retreat, Suede at the lead.

Just after the 'girls' left earshot our guard friend, who had begun to drool, felt a hard smack to the back of his head. He flinched as bent forward with the blow, rising up to glower at his partner at the post. "What was that for?"

"You didn't get her name!!" Ah yes, young love. Wonder if he was ever told of the birds and the bees.

Fifteen minutes later in the back room of Suede's shop, the four men, still in their get-ups had skirts hiked up; pulling various packages, vials, and small sacks from the undersides. They may be a bit indecent, but their latest shipment was now in town. And Ho! Their day wasn't done yet, of course. Suede planned to have some fun with this costume.

'I wonder where Lt. Kilborn is...'

[Jirai]

Jirai was having a hard time containing her laughter. The dark elf was perched up in the branches of a tree, a position that afforded a decent view of the gate, providing that one had good eyesight. And she did, or at least, decent enough that she could view Suede-the-woman's actions. As soon as she had gotton wind of the tailor's latest wild idea, she had insisted on seeing it for herself, and was quite satisfied with the result. There was a broad grin on her normally stoic face as the maroon-gowned figure pressed himself closer to the guard.

"All we have to search is ourselves."

Her ears twitched at hearing that and she nearly fell out of the tree. Oh yes, this was definitely worth it. Now she would have, perhaps, something to use against the tailor if he ever brought up the subject of the kitten again.

"You can't very well search us out here, but maybe after you let us through... you could give us a private -examination-?"

Something to use against the tailor indeed. The dark elf slid down from her perch once the cross-dressing smugglers were through the gate, trotting off in the opposite direction of the town.

[Suede]

He had just come from dealing with a particularly senile mage across town, an even which took far more patience then Suede really wanted to provide, but managed none the less. He now had the little charm that was promised in hand. First though, there were matters of business to attend to.

Suede was alone this time, once again donning his black cloak, cowl masking his features within their own world of shadows. Face had been wrapped in a scarf to ensure not even chin nor lips could be remembered by those who took note of him.

Suede may not have been very gifted when it came to fighting, but he new how to creep in ways that would put the best streetrats, and heck regular rats to shame.

The moon was high, but the pavilions the guards had set up were proving to be a slightly fatal error as the shadowed form crept along through the encampment towards the water supply. It seems the guards were using one main supply to provide all their water, and water satchels were filled every morning before the start of inspections.

Suede slunk past a small family of 3, using the trio's few possessions to cover his prescense as four small carvings were drawn from within the folds of his shirt. Slouching low he crept over to the edge of the guard's water basin.

One aside the little landmark each carving was turned over, a runic symbol traced along its base to cause, by some spell he truly didn't understand, a hole to appear. Most convenient for carrying goods. As one statue was opened the contents; a tasteless, colorless, unscented brew; was emptied into the water.

With task completed and carving returned to their proper place, Suede made the slow crawl back from the pavilion and into town. The morning would be fun.

**********

Suede was with a new cart of supplies the next morning, tailoring goods for sure. Or at least he would claim as such. Again he was alone, friends all busy elsewhere in the city, but this little tailor was far from worried. There was quite a line in his way, but he had resigned himself to perching feet upon the horse's rump before him and resting his head back into linked fingers.

Not long did he wait though before the fun started. Simple at first, one guard was rubbing his stomach, a slight grimace crossing his features. Then two... and three... not long before every guard within the gate shift seemed influenced by cramps of some form. Then, to top it all off, as if someone had rung a bell they all bolted towards the forest at amazing speed. Apparently they had too many beans for dinner.... hope they don't use poison ivy.

Everyone waiting for inspections watched the guards run for the bushes with mild befuddlement, before they realized no one was watching the gate. A sudden wave of understanding and everyone was slipping past without inspection, nor taxing. Amongst these was a giddy tailor who felt rather triumphant.


As with the event involving the soldier march, Kilborn would receive an unmarked, unsigned note with his name neatly printed upon one side:

"Your guards abandoned their post Kill-joy. For shame, perhaps you should pay them better, or get them some real food to ensure their stomachs don't bother them again.

Love, The Market."