NOTE: This is not an actual representation of game play but a piece of fiction which has been compiled from the game play of The Tales of Hepian.
Erwin sits in his shop feeling slightly confused with the whirlwind of events which took place. His mind starts to dwell in what he should do in this awkward situation. The card sits before him on his shop's counter, as if it is an exotic artifact.
Silent envelopes the shop as he sits there but then the bell rings again. A man enters the shop; tall, lean, gaunt looking, but finely dressed. Though, the man has the marks of an eccentric with his long wild hair struggling to escape from his hat, his eye patch firmly placed on his face, and one gloved hand. He walks with a slight limp but employs a finely polished cane to help compensate.
The man starts to look around at the parts and components which Erwin displays on his shop's shelves. "This must be the place," the man starts to mumble to himself. "This work is finely done with the right materials. These are no cheap facsimiles."
Erwin looks up as his train of thought is completely derailed. Erwin's heart skips a beat as he recognizes the man who stands before him, Fredan Tarslister. Tarlister hails from a far off country called Larsmark. It is because of this man steam and electric engines have become faster, more powerful, and smaller than anyone could ever imagine. He is also known as the "Grandfather of Micro-Engines" and the single greatest pioneer of clockwork mechanics and steam powered physics.
Erwin suddenly stands to attention and approaches the man, "Hello! I recognize you, Mr. Tarlister! I have read all of your works on steam powered engines, valve displacement systems, and gasket ratios!"
Tarlister smiles and tries to say a word but Erwin is holding a device which Tarlister is known to have invented and thrusts it into view. "I have been using your design for this water recycle chamber, but I was thinking about making one minor adjustment to your sprocket system."
Tarlister smiles, nods, and then realizes there is time for cheers or jeers. Tarlister kindly pats Erwin on the shoulder, "That is grand, my boy, that you have considered modifying my designs. But I have tried something like that some years ago and found out that too much tampering with the sprocket system makes the water recycle system over heat and rip itself apart. Tragically, I found this out the hard way," He points to his eye patch.
"Though, I am not the only one who has made a name for themselves, Erwin," Tarlister says as he looks at more of the components which Erwin has around the shop. "I have been searching for days for a grand tinkerer such as yourself. I have been going from shop to shop, factory to factory to find a mechanical genius in town and all roads have pointed to you. You're not a bumbling idiot riding off of other people's successes and you actually use high quality materials, unlike some of your peers, if you wish to call them that."
"Well what are you thinking of working on?" Erwin says out of both curiosity and pride.
Tarlister looks around the shop suspiciously as if there are listening devices or something watching him. He moves in close to Erwin and whispers, "It is something that will make all our mothers proud. It will revolutionize the domestic world. If you help me and fix my problem then I will give you 5 percent of my profits and I may even name this grand device after you."
"This sounds really exciting!" Erwin says after thinking for a moment, "What would be involved?"
"I need you to come to my hotel room with me. There is too much undone to lug it all with me from place to place. Though, I am told that if you look at parts or blue prints you are able to find flaws in designs quickly!"
Erwin pauses for a moment and thinks but snaps back into action, "Let me get my tool bag!"
He escorts Tarlister outside, after making sure his shop is locked up, and is stopped by a large modified auto. The black, long, shiny auto has apparently been heavily modified. The design looks eerily common but how the curves flow into each other and the specific detail which has been put into every piece of chromed grill, every bent and curved exhaust pipe, and every spoke on the wheels, the over all appearance of the vehicle seems elegant, exotic, and sophisticated. Tarlister smiles at Erwin's reaction and starts to point out the modifications which would both interest Erwin and are harder to see.
They get in and the chauffeur drives to the north. The conversation is mostly small talk about mechanics, the car, and other things which come to mind. Tarlister does not seem to be bugged by this but enjoying the conversation despite it being trivial and meaningless.
"I can see you put a lot of time into this," Erwin says politely as he looks at the hand-stitches in the seat.
"Yes, my shop and I spent many hours at making this car one of a kind," Tarlister says with a polite grin. "We spend a lot of our time improving mundane objects into extraordinary objects. In fact, this auto was made in this very town at the Night Lamp Auto and Airship Company. I thought it was appropriate to bring this along to the world's fair."
Erwin nods and slightly scowls as he still knows that the Night Lamp Auto Company have stolen many of his ideas in the past.
Tarlister continues on, "Unfortunately, in their effort to mass produce their cars they end up making many cheap parts for it. I wonder if the genius who devised these parts is rolling around in his grave do to such the poor quality they are making his parts in."
"I am the one who makes them, and THEY always take them." Erwin says in a bitter way. "They always take them across the street to that factory."
Tarlister nods as if he almost isn't listening or is politely understanding, it is rather hard to tell. Then after a few moments of awkward silence the auto arrives at the Princess Madeline Hotel. It is a grand hotel that almost looks like a castle from the outside. The chauffeur stops in the front where the reserved drop off area and valet parking is. They approach the building and doors are flung open for them, people start greeting Mr. Tarlister by name, and even the elevator is held for him and the man operating the elevator asks Mr. Tarlister by name if he wanted to go to the floor of his room. All this time everyone is ignoring Erwin.
Another passenger joins them, and looks angry or agitated. The woman is dressed as if she is there to do some kind of manual labor. The woman grunts for the top floor and ignores the other passengers.
The two men get off on the third floor and Tarlister leads Erwin to room 42. The room is fully furnished with a separate room for the restroom and bedroom. The room even has a tube box, but Tarlister has taken the time to put a sheet over it as if he believes it is watching him. There are parts all over the room, and on the desk is a locking carrying case for rolled up pieces of paper. More than likely that is where his blue prints are kept for the new wonderful machine.
Tarlister goes over to the canister which hold the blue prints and unlocks them. He carefully unfurls it and lets Erwin soak in the information. From what Erwin can tell that this machine has a long hose, an area to hold what ever this machine collects, a miniature perpetual motion motor, and a few fans. He starts to formulate in his mind that this machine uses the fans to creates a lower air pressure behind it than the air pressure in the room. In consequence one could suck objects up with the hose. Though, the concept of using this to clean goes a little over Erwin's head, but he gets the technical aspect.
"These are all the parts and the blue prints. I hope you can figure this out." He says as he backs away from Erwin and the mess.
Erwin first looks at the parts and tries to find any obvious faults with the machinery. He looks and looks but doesn't notice anything. Then he looks at the blueprints and how all the mechanical parts are set up. After some close and careful examination he notices that there are two gears which will always strip out one of the two gears, if not both. Erwin start to look for the part scattered amongst the parts. He looks for it several times and then realizes that the part is so misshapen and stripped that is doesn't look anything close to the original blue prints.
"Oh my, it looks like we have designed this wrong!" Tarlister says in frustration and surprise. "We need to find a mechanic shop right away to fix this problem."
"My shop has room. If we can get this to my shop I am glad to smith you something." Erwin says in excitement. "But how secret do we need to keep this?"
Tarlister thinks for a few moments, "Well, if we keep this apart but in bags, I am more than likely sure that no one will be able to identify what this is. Let me call my assistant to help us."
He picks up the phone and talks to the desk, "I need to page my assistant Alfred Vance!"
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The walking tour continues for Georgie and his companion, a large foreigner duped by a pamphlet into believing everyone in Ranstoc is trustworthy. Despite Goergie's forced enthusiasm, the walking tour does seem to be amazing the large foreigner. All the sites and sounds of the city, which Georgie has been desensitized to, are thrilling and amazing to the man. They now stand near the gray beaches with its brown, spiky grass struggling to stay alive and growing out of any crack of the pavement. The man watches the Zarmosk Sea and all the ferries, barges, and cargo ships going in and out of shipping routes. The man tries to clutch for words but "beautiful," and "amazement" are the only two that seem to be produced amongst the other gibberish which he is speaking.
"So," Georgie finally breaks his own silence, "what exactly brings you to this city on this wonderful day?"
He looks proudly out into the distance and puts his hand over his heart, "The God Olum declare me as fighter. I fight!"
"Oh ho," Georgie says with some surprise but trying to convey enthusiasm, "That's... great!"
Georgie starts to look around for something else to do other than standing around and getting sand in his shoes. Not too far away is a food vendor with a wagon, "Oh, there are these great fantastic things you simply must try! It will be on me, you don't have to worry about spending your money."
He buys two pretzels from the vendor. Georgie gives one to the foreigner with a small cup of yellow unidentifiable, but delicious, sauce to dip it in. Then Georgie proceeds to eat his but "drops" it "accidentally." The foreign man looks at the pretzel laying on the ground and becomes flustered at the sight.
"From my country, bad luck is dropping good food!" He says as he looks around nervously. He speaks some other words but his speech becomes more fractured as he gets more agitated. As he gets distracted over the food, Georgie pick-pockets him. Georgie finds in his hand what appears to be a necklace for a child made out of strangely tinted glass beads. As the end of the necklace is a strange foreign symbol which Georgie cannot identify.
"My god Olum is not pleased!" Finally says the foreigner.
"Don't worry about it, I can just buy..."
Before Georgie can finish his sentence an auto pulls up very close. Then two men jump out of the car and start to approach her and the foreign man. Georgie takes the opportunity to start heading off as the other two men approach his former companion. The men start to talk in a heated way and then the word, "Olum" pops up. The foreign man starts to search his pockets and Georgie starts to leave the scene faster.
He gets out of sight of the large men and starts running toward the docks in the shadier part of town. Factories, warehouses, and places of ill-reputes line the street. The docks are in the distance and a ferry is arriving. Georgie gets his head together and looks down at the stolen good. He knows he has to hock the object somewhere or at least get information on it.
Luckily Georgie sees a pawn shop. From the outside it does not look very friendly. All the windows are barred, the door looks like it has many secure locks on it, and out of view, but obvious to those who know security or know about getting around security, is a metal curtain which rolls down on tracks in front of the shop. The inside is different. The room is filled with many objects ranging from weapons to furniture. There is even a section devoted to just jewelry. Unfortunately, the items are all blocked off from the general public's reach because of large glasses cases which are reinforced with metal but given a wooden outside for looks. There's only enough room for a person to walk from the front door to the small window which contains the proprietor of the shop. The man is old and overweight but wears nice clothing which indicates that he is either good at what he does or has been in business long enough to know what he is doing.
Goergie gets out the necklace and sets it on the window's ledge, "I need an estimate on this."
"Oh," says the man eying the piece of jewelry. He takes a pencil, which was stuck behind his ear, and picks up the necklace by sliding it on to the tip skillfully. "One of these, I've been seeing these for a few years now. There's a strange cult..."
"Cult?!" Georgie exclaims in some concern.
"Yeah, cult. In Solop the government was toppled over by these crazies. I hear they're cannibals but I am not sure. It is just hearsay." The man sets the necklace down. "The one you got here is probably the best one I have seen, but right now I don't think I can resell it. Well, I could resell it but I might lose my hand. I imagine you might want to find someone else to fence this."
"Do you know of anyone who would?"
The man thinks for a moment, "Nah, with this 'religious' object I am not sure."
"What is it made out of?"
"This is a fine volcanic glass which only occurs in Solop. Notice that is semi-translucent except for those few opaque spots. It is extremely rare to see this outside of Solop. I think if you take it apart it could be worth more if you sold it to a real jeweler or a tailor."
"Thanks for your help." Says Georgie as he leaves.
Georgie goes outside and down an alley. He takes out his knife and takes the necklace and splits up the necklace. He hears a car and decides to go away further from the entrance of the alley and hide behind some crates. He sees the car slowly pass by and notices it is the three foreign men and they are looking very hard. They start to pass and Georgie thinks that he is out of danger. He dismantles the necklace more and looks at the round ornate symbol. He shrugs and chucks it, unknown to him the emblem bounces off the wall of the alley and lands of the hood of the foreign men's car. The breaks screech to a halt and he can hear the car doors open and slam shut. Georgie starts to run but he starts to hear people running after her. Georgie tries to find a door that is unlocked in the alley.
"WE EAT YOUR TINY HEAD!" Goegie can hear on of them shout. Then another shouts, "YOUR HAND WILL BE MY SOUP-STOCK!"
Georgie starts to runs down the street faster and then sees a fire escape ahead. He runs and jumps onto it and looks for an open window. Two floors above him is open and climbs toward it. Georgie jumps through the window and closes it. Georgie suddenly finds himself in a dark room alone, he listens to hear if the foreign men have passed but instead he faintly hears music. He can tell it isn't coming from a radio, but from somewhere within the building.
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The ride to the Princess Madeline Hotel was not a very long one. Of course, navigating to it was not a hard thing either since it is one of the taller buildings in the inner part of Ranstoc. The Hotel is well over a hundred years of age and was originally made for the visiting royal Bransalian family for the first Grand Exhibition. The owners named it after the baby princess Madeline, who later became a patron and then a resident of the hotel. Since then, the Princess Madeline Hotel has been a grand splendor in Ranstoc and mostly all the well off visitors lodge there.
The outside of the building is grand and ornate, each available space is either reserved for a window patio, a statue, or a flag. The inside of the building is as ornately decorated. The tiled marbles floors are polished, the floral arrangements are freshly cut, the exotic rugs are cleaned and brightly colored, and the main attraction, a large fountain, is in full working condition. The fountain is ornate has statues which represent the four rivers in Bransal and the two mountain ranges. These figures are all holding up the Goddess Galau.
Despite all the glitz of the place, Evelyn ignores it and looks around. She looks for the most knowledgeable person there. She then spots the concierge, by her name tag it is Audrey. Audrey is a beautiful woman with long, shiny, perfectly done, auburn hair. Her suit hangs perfectly off of her, her smile is as white as freshly fallen snow, her skin is a palely rosy complexion which can only be found on porcelain dolls, but her only flaw was that she is too perfect.
"Welcome to the Princess Madeline Hotel; where beauty lays while you lay in beauty. How may I be of service today?" Audrey says with a sickeningly sweet smile.
Unenthusiastically Evelyn shows her the piece of paper.
"Oh yes, you must want Mr. We-Shar-Hef," Audrey struggles to keep her professional tone to pronounce the name of her foreign guest. "He is on the top floor in room number 20. There is an elevator to your right, and if you cannot figure how to use it then I can direct you to the stairs."
Evelyn outwardly ignores this blatant insult but inwardly wish she and Audrey were in a back alley. She grits her teeth and enters the elevator along with two other gentlemen which she ignores. She asks the man who operates the elevator to take her to the top floor and then waits.
The two men get off on the third floor and Evenlyn only pays attention when she needs to move out of their way. Then the top floor comes soon after. The man controlling the elevator thanks her as if he has just done a grand service with lots of effort for her. She ignores him and walks into the hallway. The hallway, like the rest of the hotel, is decorated nicely and a long outstretched rug runs in either direction. She starts to go one direction and she notices the numbers of the doors are slowly getting smaller. She passes 3 and finally realizes she needed to go to number 20. She tries going the other direction but somehow ends up behind the door which leads to the long stairwell. She growls at herself and goes back to the hallway. She finally follows the long hallway until she makes to the door of 20. She knocks on the door and it opens slightly and then swings open. There before her is a large man dressed in fine but foreign clothing with a thick black beard. The man looks at Evelyn up and down and barks gibberish. Evelyn in response holds up the piece of paper in hopes that this isn't a sign to declare a fight or worse, a marriage proposal.
"Oh," says the man as his face gets a friendlier expression, "job."
He leads Evelyn into the room. The room is very big and well furnished. The main focus seems to be around the fire place where a large mantel sits with a painting of one of the many royal portraits of the old Bransalian royal family. In the over stuffed sofas which surround the fire place, more large men sit and drink.
The man who answers the door says something to the men around the fireplace and sits with them. They all turn their heads in Evelyn's direction and smile approvingly. One man, who has the biggest mustache and sideburns, stands up and approaches her. He stretches out his large hand to shake. She places her hand, which is eclipsed by his, but then is thrown toward him by one quick movement of his arm. Before she knows it, she is in his full embrace being hugged. He let's go and backs off.
He bows a little and says, "I am Bardali Yarskahav. I am ambassador of country Arbondas. Do you want job?"
"Yes..." Evelyn says. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
Yarskahav thinks for a few minutes so he can piece together what he needs to say in Evelyn's language. "Do you know problem of my country?"
"Not really."
"Have three countries who border who hate us. Mentiope, Gelibras, and Fisahes. They hate because we hate one man, Yusel Roba. He try to incite war in all countries. He try to rebel youth against Arbondas. This man use dance troupe to hide from us and spread his evil message. We pay you 6 million Arbondasian Coppers for this."
"Okay," she says as she considers the information. "So, why don't you kill him yourself? Do you guys lack an army?"
He gets and offended look on his face, "I am high general for Arbondas army! If I kill Roba then large war would start between neighboring countries. This job need to be done discreetly."
"So, do the other countries like him and his dancing so much that they don't see him as evil?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to kill him or break his legs?"
"We want you to get rid of him." He says as they walk closer to the group. He and another man with a large scar on his cheek talk for a brief moment. "You have opportunity. Our intelligence have said that one dancer in troupe of Roba's disappeared. They now look for new dancer for troupe."
"What sort of dancing is this?"
"It dancing of his lowly nomadic people. This allow him to travel between countries quietly."
"Where would I be able to find him?"
Yarskahav thinks for a moment and have another discussion with the man with a scar. "Intelligence said he staying in abandon building with sick-eye-knock," the man struggles with the word Cizinec to a point he repeats it several times without getting it right. He then resorts to saying, "nomadic people."
"Do you know where this might be?"
"Do not know," He says after having another conversation with the man with a scar. "We know in abandon building and your nomadic people live along with other lowly people for short period of time."
"Do you know what part of the city this might be in?"
"No."
She nods and thinks for a moment. She knows that in this city there must be a few Pruchags, abandon buildings which the Cizinec take over and use for temporary housing. Usually these are ran by elderly Cizinec who cannot travel anymore. The only thing that needs to be exchange while staying at these Pruchags is labor, most residence supply maintenance or security. Usually these Pruchags also house Negustor in them and other foreigners too poor to stay at inns or hotels.
"Well, it looks like I'll have to find my own clues." Evelyn said with a sigh, "I am going now."
"May tongue of goddess surround you," Yarskahav says awkwardly as if he was not confident if that was the right thing to say.
She makes her way out of the Hotel. Evelyn decides to go to the Clock House Square to find a leads. When she gets there she first notices the crowd and the hustle and bustle but she especially notices four people who are standing right by the street; A beautiful woman holding what looks to be a detached mustache, next to her is a badly beaten foreigner, a strapping bald man with a robust mustache stands across the woman and the foreigner, and a midget cheering the bald man. Being a traveler and a Cizinec she's seen stranger things in her lifetime.
She looks in the vast crowd to find Cizinec. She sees Nostro, a clan who most people think are the stereotypical Cizinec, entertaining the crowds while other Nostro pick-pocket the on lookers. She sees some Casgi, the more nomadic but less noticeable Cizinec, who are watching the crowds and conning people. The most curious sight of all is the small group of Nem, a clan of Cizinec who are devout followers of Galau and live in the mountains which they rarely leave. The group of Nem flares Evelyn's curiosity and she goes up to them. They are all huddled in a group looking at all the on lookers. The townsfolk and foreigners all are watching the Nem as they expect them to either burst out into song or start dancing, as the Nostro usually dress in a similar style of clothing as they perform.
Evelyn approaches them with a smirk and says, "Maybe if you avoid standing in the middle of the crowd you would get stared at less."
The elder looks at her and sees that she's a Cizinec. "What do you know about not standing out in a crowd?"
"Well, I know enough not to wear traditional clothing so I won't stand out in a crowd."
"But this is our birthright to wear this clothing which the great goddess Galau has provided for us." After he says Galau the other members put their heads down and in unison mumble something.
"True, but you guys are looking rather uncomfortable." Evelyn says as she rolls her eyes.
"Well, you are probably use to all these heathens around."
"Why are you all here if we're all heathens."
"We were asked to show to the world how devout and pious are to the great goddess Galau." Once again the other members mumble something in unison.
"That means you're presenting at the world's fair?" If Evelyn's curiosity was a flame it would be devouring a forest at this point.
"Back up, Back up!" Shouts a short, skinny man with black slicked back oily hair. He steps between Evelyn and the Nem. "What are you doing here messing with some prime exhibits!?"
"You're showing you're prime exhibits to everyone before the world's fair?"
He grabs her shoulder in that special way that only a sleazy businessman can, and starts to walk away with her. "Between you and me, they needed to stretch their legs and I had no idea where to take them."
Evelyn forces her shoulder out of his grasp and glares at him, "Perhaps you should take them somewhere less crowded where they aren't surrounded by so many 'heathens'."
"Well, do you know a place like that?"
"Some place with nature! Some place where they can stretch their legs." Evelyn shouts.
The sleazy businessman thinks for a moment and nods. The Nem and the man walk away from the square and start heading south. Evelyn watches in disparagement but then approaches some of the Casgi. The elder of the group she approaches meets her half way and says, "Salutations."
"Salutations back," Evelyn says. "I am looking for a place to stay for sometime. I was hoping I could get a location of some pruchags."
"There's two pruchags in this city. I have to warn you, one is being occupied as a foreign man who says he's a lot like us. He has lots of strange ideas, that one. He seems a little rowdy but nothing the pruchags can't handle. The other pruchag isn't too much further from here," the old man points south as he leans on his cane. "It's a lot quieter if you're in the mood for a restful night."
Evelyn thinks for a moment, "This rowdy man, does anyone know anything about him?"
"I am not staying there," the elder says with a shrug, "so I don't know much about this stranger."
"Are there rumors of what he has done in other parts of the city?"
"Yeah, apparently he and his women are dancing where ever they can." The elderly man says as he looks around, "People are saying that he isn't even taking the time to make some Pres and isn't letting people give him money. He's been mostly dancing by the docks, by the pruchag."
"Thank you," she says with a fake kind of sincerity. "I think I will check out this odd little man. Hopefully he doesn't cause any of us... problems. Oh, and by the way, we have Nem in town. You might not want to approach them they seem very odd."
The elder starts laughing, "From what I gather from their exiles, all of them in the mountains seem... odd." Evelyn and the elder start to laugh and she starts to part her way. The elder nods his head, "May the goddess watch where you tread."
This makes Evelyn pauses for a moment as she isn't use to this kind of hospitality. "You too."
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Ezekeal and Jesay pursue their ventures and arrive at the station after a hectic auto-cab ride. The Main Station Ranstoc is large, tall, and as old as most of the buildings around the Clock House Square. The old shield of the Authority lays in stone on the front of the building. The shield contains four symbols; a flying duck, a closed fist, a knife, and a noose. Of course, these symbols have changed over that last century since these buildings were built.
Ezekeal walks into the imposing building as Jesay waits outside int the crowd of the Clock House Square. The scene in the lobby is a little more chaotic than a usual day at the Authority offices. Those who wish to file reports of crimes sit in the lobby along side those who are bound because they were caught committing minor crimes. Through the back the more dangerous criminals or criminals who aren't caught right away are being brought in, usually forcefully, through the back doors. Behind a large desk, which helps separates the back and the front of the lobby along with large iron gates, is an Authority officer who is waiting for people to properly file their paper work.
"Do you know who I talk to about the Tourist Committee's fliers?" Says Ezekeal through the mask of his uniform.
"The liaison of the Tourist Committee. He's in charge of all communication and Authority side actions of tourism." The clerk at the desk looks at the log book, "And he hasn't signed out so he still must be in his office. He's on the west wing, top floor. It's hard to miss."
Ezekeal thanks her and goes through the iron gates which separates those who are in waiting and those who are being processed. It takes him no time to identify where the elevators are since they are well out of the way from any mad prisoner but still accessible. He goes into the old elevator and pulls a lever to which floor he needs to go to.
He arrives in a hallway full of doors with frosted windows. These offices are all marked according to what office or officer lays beyond it, he could remember a time when he had an office similar to these ones. The thought makes him cringe a little. He proceeds down the hall to find the office of the liaison of the tourist committee, which is marked by a makeshift cardboard sign which is stark contrast to the large, black, permanent lettering on all the other doors. Ezekeal knocks on the door and a stern, gruff voice shouts for him to come in. He comes in and looks around. The office is disorganized, boxes of posters and pamphlets sit all over the place and pile of forms sit in a heap on the desk of the liaison. The walls are plastered with miniature posters, torn fronts of pamphlets, and maps of where they have been either hung or handed out. One could almost think, if they hadn't seen the sign on the door, that the room was set up for a tactical defense against an invader who could only be stopped by a legion of pamphlets and posters.
Ezekeal recognized the man who sat and grumbled behind the desk (since he is a department head he is not obligated to wear a mask like the Authority officers) as Gerald Donner, once the station chief for the Ranstoc Authority. He was a chief for two years when Ezekeal first started out but then retired due to an injury. Ironically, Ezekeal remembered the speech which Donner gave at his retirement ceremony told the young officer to not get kicked around by city committees.
Gerald looks up and says gruffly, "Oh, you look important. What are you here for?"
"It has come to my attention that there's been a rumor that there has been misprinted pamphlets being handed out recently. They should be all gathered and replaced."
"Oh yeah, I heard about this. Supposedly there were some due to be incinerated, but you know how reliable those incinerator workers are. So, what are they doing now? I haven't heard anything from those ninnies of the tourist committee."
"I happened to be going your way and thought I would relay the message. I thought it only fit to spread the word after meeting with the head of the Tourist Committee and finding out about the status of the new pamphlets they are handing out."
He nods, "Yeah, those clowns. They only tell me anything if they want our men to hand things out, not that they're handing anything out themselves. So, who are they hiring this time to hand out fliers? Pigeons, children, beavers?"
"They hired a local woman and a few others to help with this."
Donner nods in understanding, "Are they still free or has the Tourist Committee finally gotten a half a brain?"
"Oh, we're charging a small fee for them."
He nods and start to type on his typewriter, "I am typing up this memo for you. Take the carbon copies of it out to the front desk on your way out and to the north station. I am pretty sure they'll be happy to hear they can stop worrying about handing out fliers and finally get back to business."
Ezekeal takes the memo and makes his way out of the office.
He gets out of the office, which is by the Clock House square. He sees the crowd. He notices though a small group of people. Two of the people look like they just got into a fight and on is badly beaten. The man who is beaten has a weeping woman next to him. Though, the one who has one the fight, despite looking like he took a few hits, is being praised by a midget.
Jesay has been watching the fight and tells Ezekeal all about it in great detail. Ezekeal finds some amusement in the story, especially some of the gestures she made. Ezekeal listens as he calls the cab to take both of them north to the other station near the docks.
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Bruno finally pulls himself together. With will and determination his casual stroll to the town center has turn into a run with him carrying his trainer on his back. From a distance down the road they run toward the Clock House Square where they see the madness which the world's fair has brought. The Clock House Square is packed with vendors, tourists, and thieves all trying to get something out of each other. Though despite the mass of people who have converged in this area, the atmosphere is filled with excitement rather than the usual strain of costumers pitted against vendors as they haggle for better prices.
Through the crowd Bruno can see the stairs which lead to the Clock House Square, all 294 of them. He starts wading through the sea of people. Vendors start to yell at him, entertainers seem to try to play louder for his attentions, and others try to distract but he heads straight to the stairs.
"There's no time for fun today," Brunos says to himself. "I must train!"
He puts down Clams, his trainer, and starts to run up the stairs a few times up and down by himself. Bruno can hear the crowd and in his mind it sounds like they are cheering him on. This only makes Bruno more determined to train harder. He then carries his midget trainer, Clams, on his back and races up the stairs. He swears he can hear the crowd cheering louder, and he races down again. Though, suddenly thoughts of his abandon motorcycle creep into his head.
"We need to get my motorcycle," Burno says with a grunt as they walk their way through the crowd.
"Oh yeah," says Clams as he swats at some pick-pockets who can't makes out who they should steal from first, "I almost forgot you rode up in it to the Light House Bar."
They get through the crowd without being stopped by anyone. Though the sound of laughter stops Bruno dead in his tracks. This wasn't laughter that is brought on by a rousing joke which is told by friends, but an egoistical laughter of another competitor. Bruno scowls and looks for the people behind the laughter.
Behind him a large man, a little bit more muscular than Bruno, stands there. His outfit is outlandish; brightly colors pantaloons, a vest which reveals his very hairy barrel chest, a pair of sandals, gold chain necklaces, and thick golden bracelets. He has long black silky hair and a thicker mustache than Bruno which is capped off by golden points. Though the most appealing thing he has is his companion; curvy, voluptuous, well endowed woman who is wearing fine silk clothing but despite being draped in it from her shoulders until her feet, she still shows a lot of her olive skin.
"Are you the hog wash for which the empire chooses for the great fight?!" Says the man with a harsh chuckle which is accompanied by his female companion.
Burno scowls at the man and tightens his fist. He fells angry that not only did this stranger call him "hog wash," which Bruno doesn't even understand but knows is a bad thing, but he also has a thicker mustache and a more attractive companion than he!
Bruno then swings toward the man, but somehow misses. The man seems to just have side stepped and he starts laughing again. The woman then speaks in a sultry voice but from her expression it wasn't anything nice. The man hears the foreign words which ooze sweetly out of her mouth and he starts to laugh again.
"She says you must have fought sickly horses to win your title!" He says as they both laugh.
Bruno takes another swing but misses the man again. This time the stranger doesn't move an inch and continues to laugh. The woman says something again but the man stops laughing and looks at her, "I am not going to say that because she is making fun of your faleesh. That would just be rude."
Bruno, out of a fit of rage, decides to tackle the man. He does not know what a faleesh is or what it has to do with him but their bullying has finally pushed too many of his buttons. He growls and outstretches his arms as a slight look of madness from anger draws upon his face. Though with in the three foot gap between himself and the stranger, Bruno falls down into the pavement. For a moment there is silent between the two mockers, but then they start to laugh harder. The women starts repeating the word "faleesh" over and over again while gesturing that something is very small.
Bruno gets up and psyches himself out. He gets up and hits the foreign man.
"You want to fight?!" Shouts the man but Bruno simply spits on his shoes. The man's face pales and then a scowl sharpens his face, "In my country... THAT MEANS DEATH!"
A fight breaks lose between the man and Bruno. The man and Bruno exchange a few blows, but then Bruno starts to pound him. He starts getting in all the combination punches repeatedly. Soon the man is badly beaten within a few blows and staggers until he is on the ground. Bruno in a fit of rage then rips off the man's mustache. The foreign man starts to scream loudly, his woman companion starts to cry and shout at Bruno in a foreign language. The only person who is cheering him on is his trainer who has been standing on the side lines.
Bruno's bloody hands loosen as the world comes back to him. He sees the distress in the woman's face and hands the mustache back to her. She holds it tightly as she sinks to her knees and starts to sob. Her foreign words are being drowned out by her tears. Bruno starts feeling bad, but then a sudden urge to make her feel better creeps into his head. He feels like he can't leave such a beautiful thing in dispare in middle of a strange country.
So, Bruno quickly looks around for something which he knows cheers up women. Through the crowd he spots a flower vendor selling very lovely sets of flowers. They are very common and grow around West Hall specifically but they had an undoubted freshness to them and vibrant youthfulness which one would swear they were cut only minutes ago. The stall vendor, who has been greeting others with vigor looses his pep when he sees Bruno approach. Of course, most of the stall vendors at this point were looking away from him in hopes that his bloodied knuckles and unkempt clothes won't detract from their stands.
"Do you know where the lady is from?" Bruno says with a smile.
The flower vendor looks toward the crowd, there are several ladies in the crowd who happened to be watching him even if by afar. "Which lady would that be?"
"The lovely one with... that man... who got hurt... somehow..." Bruno says trying to make the obvious seem less obvious with the guile and cunning of his language usage.
The vendor looks over in the direction through the crowd at the women who is still sobbing over her companion. Then he looks at the imposing Bruno. He makes a few noises, like words that just seem to fizzle, gurgle, and crackle as their meanings lose substance once airborne. "No," He finally says with a small wince as he expects to feel pain instead of fear in his mind.
Bruno is too busy looking at flowers for the answer to even matter. He then spots some great looking, frilly, large, red flowers. He snatches one and smiles with joy as he thinks this flower will put a smile on the woman's face. Even though Bruno has not had much practice in wooing proper women, he has seen a few things in the moving picture shows which have never proven wrong. Also, he remembers distinctly when ever his father made his mother cry, his father would buy flowers for his mother and that seemed to settle things.
"It will be 50 Pres for this one," says the flower vendor hurriedly
"40!"
"Okay, just as long as you don't hit me." He says with a wince.
Bruno exchanges some Pres and holds the flower firmly. With a light heart and thoughts of romance which now loom in his mind, he struts over to the woman and the man who is looking rather unconscious at this point. He leans in with the flower behind his back and says in a smooth and sensual voice, "I do not know who you are, or where you come from but all I have to say is 'hey.'"
She looks at him with big tear filled bewildered eyes. She wants to back away but does not want to leave her companion behind. She waits and looks at him, and Bruno stares back in only a way a man looks at a woman (or as some has said a dog looks at a full bowl of food). He takes out the flower and out stretches his arms. He holds it there as if it were a precious stone or a succulent dessert which needs to taken in by the scenes to be enjoyed.
Her expression quickly leaves the realm of confusion and enters the realm of anger. With a swift movement her fist connects with his stomach and she starts yelling at Bruno with a string of foreign words, which one or two people in the crowd cover their children's ears for. She slaps her companion a few times to wake up and they march off into the crowd.
As Bruno regains his breath, he watches her march off in anger. Reminders of how his mother use to smack his father slowly creep into his mind. He knows from that very moment that if there is a woman in the universe worth pursuing, it would be that woman!
"Do you know where Galau created such a woman?" Bruno says as he approaches Clams.
"Yeah, they're from Disobia," Clams says with a laugh.
"What can you tell me about their culture or at least how to win her?"
"I know that a red flower is a sign of death," Clams shakes his head and chuckles more.
Bruno could feel his stomach drop. The pain on his abdomen seems to becoming more real and less dreamy. He sits on the sidewalk and looks down. "How could I possibly win her over now?!"
Clams stands next to him and pats him on the shoulder, "A long time ago, while I was on the circuit, I once fell in love with the most fierce but beautiful Disobian woman. I found out the way to their heart, kid, is buying them buying them a farm animal and a bottle of booze."
"A farm animal and a bottle of booze?!" Bruno could feel his hopes lifting and he stands up with new found energy. "Wait, where do I find a farm animal?"
"I don't really know." Clams reply seemed to suck any new found energy left from Bruno. Clams starts to walk away, "Kid, don't go doing anything stupid... wait look who I am talking to. I am going back home."
Bruno's mind tries to work out a way around his dilemma. Then a memory springs fourth from something his father use to say, "Damn Cizinec, they're as dirty as their animals they sell!" Bruno can feel his energy come back to him and he looks for a Cizinec. One crosses his path; a young woman with red curly hair, a hat, pants, a corset, and a scowl of displeasure which seems permanently on her face. She whistles and a large wolf, who was waiting with the other animals, comes toward her.
"You look like you're Cizinec!" Bruno blurts out in joy that he may be closer to his goal. "Do you know where I can buy one of your fine livestock?"
"I happen to be on my way to a place." She says with a grunt."I guess you could tag along."
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