IC Story Thread: Ch.1,Ad.1 - A Sensitive Matter

The magister winkles his nose like he just smelled or tasted something nasty at Ragnarr's explanation, and then further works his mouth soundlessly for a moment like he's swallowing the distasteful thing, while he writes upon a scroll before him.

Ultimately he says through his interpreter, "The magister sees it fit only that you pay the administrative fee for signatory to your stay. Should representation be required by you in your stay, you will pay it at that time, no duty tariff was assessed.

1 silver pence a piece, and you may go."

The interpreter points to a small but heavy, ironbound chest near the door, and the magister has already moved on to review notes for the next case.

...

Entering into Umbar, you are still far from the sea yet the fetid smells of salt water already intermingle with the dust and spice and frying flatbreads that seems to dominate the air here.

It's structures are tall and tiered and plastered in a muddy stucco, white-washed with a limestone-powdered sealant. Almost blinding to look upon at the wrong angle.

The streets are seemingly disorganized, appearing to have grown simply out of the need to accommodate more people, rather than any plan, however you are able to find your way to the smithy where your contact is purportedly residing after some time.

And so it is that the company comes upon the location of the forge where Andireg said they could find their contact.

It's a ground-level unit with a moderately-sized courtyard-like space set off to the side of it, shaded by large triangles of canvas, except the courtyard is filled with the accoutrement of smithing - anvils, troughs of water, barrels of coke, and of course a handful of bellow-worked forges around the periphery.

It looks like there is a business-front associated with it, and some of the equipment appears to be dedicated to that, however the rest of the equipment is made available for people to use on a commission basis.

Andireg's directions do not mention the business, so the dwarf you all seek must be a commission worker.

You all can tell, you're not the only Northerners in Umbar, indeed maybe as much as 1 in 3 people dress in the styles of the Coastal People that inhabit, well, the coasts between Umbar and Gondor. Most of the Coastal folk are true Harondorian, and are generally considered Northron by the people of the Harad (and it should be noted, many people of Gondor might consider the Coastal People Southron).

But your company's specific stylings, particularly armor if you're wearing it, weaponry, and even clothing (cloaks, boots, gloves, etc), can mark you as even more Northern than that, just by virtue of being built of materials and cuts that serve a different function and purpose than are of a demand here.

And of your stylings, you have seen very few.

So when Seonaid looks to see if anyone is paying you all special attention, it could be said that, yes, they are. You are, in a real way, special here. So people walking by, or whom you walk by, tend to find their eyes lingering upon your contingent if for no other reason than you're just something a bit different than the usual, and so, eye-catching.

Seonaid is able to clock a couple people going about surreptitious activities... over there, a small child - dirty feet almost black they've not been washed in so long - timing a vendors roaming gaze to snatch a small roll from under his nose... over there, a man trying to hide the fact from the woman he walks arm in arm with that he's leering at another woman... but anyone she sees looking at her or her company are doing so openly, and really for no longer than the few moments it takes to register their own mundane wonder before moving on. And she feels fairly certain no one's following them, or if they are, they'd must be very good.