The Family BusinessIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | The Family Business Johann addressed the man on the mattress in his best attempt at the language he had just heard as the man above cursed <<To be pleased if to allow to explain. This be larger than thou. To be sorry if you no understand good>> The lanky man raised himself to a sitting position, resting on his arms, still a little stunned, and raked a hand through his shaggy auburn hair. He pulled it back and examined the little trickle of blood he found there, then wiped it on his trousers. He glanced back at the pit and scowled, though whether it was about the blood, the loss of his cap or the fate of his new acquaintance was unclear. Finally, he looked up at the man who had yanked him out. "Second interview must be hell," he said, deadpan, speaking in Thari, but allowing his old accent to bleed through. He gestured for the man to go on. "So explain." "The building is on fire. Please follow, and I'll explain," Johann said in unaccented Thari as he fiddled with a combination lock, producing a series of clicks, and opened another very sturdy door. Faint light spilled out from the doorway. Sure enough, both men could now smell smoke, and there was a distinct chimney effect sucking air from the small basement chamber they found themselves in up into the building above. Light from the doorway illuminated the ceiling, and associated machinery. A series of gears and cantilevers was assembled in such a way as to coordinate a trap door in the floor of the room above. One half of this had been jury-rigged to remain closed with the insertion of a wooden rod into a gear, so that only the side under Goran had opened. The mechanism was not lost on Goran. He studied it as much as he could without actually stopping, silently wondering how his benefactor-of-the-moment had known which side to jam, or had gotten down there quick enough to do so. He also contemplated Micky's fate, noticing that he wasn't hearing any screams and wondering if that was good or bad. Johann did not seem inclined to release the trap, however, and Goran did not press the issue. Yet. There was also another door out of the room, only dimly illuminated by the light from the first, but also of sturdy construction. Beyond the open door was a small room lit by a lantern, a page of parchment weighed down by a few smooth stones, a wide-brimmed white hat, and the small wooden table upon which they both rested. "This interview was a trap. He was a spy. Are you?" Johann asked, again in Thari, as he moved towards the table in the room, always keeping one eye on the other man. Oddly enough, he was armed with a pair of unusual revolvers and a (holstered) single-edged dagger with a slight curve. He wore a red shirt which buttoned down the front with a collar, a wide leather belt with a broad brass buckle whose engraving couldn't be made out in the available light (in addition to the leather straps which supported his pistols), blue canvas pants with brass rivets, and calf-high boots. His hair was wavy and blond. A faint glow could be seen from the ceiling above the far side of the room Goran had fallen into, opposite the room where Johann now stood, and the smell of fire... and, alarmingly, the chemicals Goran had smelled earlier and thought possibly ink, were growing stronger, as well as new smells which were definitely more obvious flammables and accelerants appropriate for Ambers' physical laws. "If I was, would I say yes?" Goran replied calmly, much of the accent gone now that he had recovered his breath. His observations of the man and his belongings seemed to indicate an identity Goran knew only by reputation. Johann Payne. Last he had heard, Payne had departed for parts unknown a couple of years before his own arrival in Amber. This encounter would be interesting, to say the least. He wondered if Payne's guns worked here. "So, what becomes of the spy?" Goran asked, nodding toward the trap. "Aaand... why are we stopping here if the building is on fire?" Johann picked up his hat, and carefully placed it on his head. With his other hand, he drew his pistol while keeping his hand well clear of the trigger, and offered it to Goran butt first. "We trump here, and you may try to shoot me," Johann said, apparently in answer to both questions, as he slid the page of parchment out and offered Goran his hand. Goran did not take the offered hand, though deep down he knew he would eventually. His eyes narrowed. This was all too strange. But Goran had always had a reckless streak. Sheer curiosity had gotten him in trouble more than once, but then again, it had also gained him his power over Shadow, which had saved his life. Things equal out. Johann holstered the other pistol. "Why would I want to do that? Either of those things. And how you know I even can do that - walk through picture," he asked slyly, waving his hand dismissively at what, to a normal inhabitant of the city, should seem a ludicrous idea. "I don't. I can. You've... 20 seconds until I go," he said with his hand still outstretched. Johann had the look of a man who had played many, many successful rounds of poker. And Goran was a man who appreciated a good poker face. He smirked and took the pistol, tucking it into his belt behind his back. He took Johann's hand and waited. Johann accepted his hand with a firm grip and continued concentrating on the parchment page amidst the smell of smoke and the sound of a crackling fire. Altogether, it might have taken slightly longer than Johann had indicated, but it was certainly less than a minute before the page became a reality and both men stepped through onto a grassy hill with a tree. Johann released his hand, and took a step away. "You know... when someone asks if you're a spy, you're supposed to say 'no' in a very credible manner. I'm Johann Payne..." Goran shrugged, but not unkindly. "Didn't think you'd believe me if I said no, so I just said it as it was. No, I am not a spy. Just someone interested in many things and too curious for my own good," Goran explained with a self-deprecating smirk. "Goran Vladic. I'm glad to see my guess was correct. Your reputation precedes you, Payne." Johann motioned to Goran's forearms, then turned both hands so that the undersides of his arms faced the sky for a moment. "Roll up your sleeves for a moment?" "I'll spare you a regeneration test," he added afterwards with a smirk. Goran wordlessly pulled up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms free of identifying marks. " 'Preciate that," he replied wryly. He quirked an eyebrow, wondering what Payne had planned next. "Now what do I do with you..." Johann sighed. "I wondered that myself," Goran commented at he readjusted his sleeves. "You have more questions, I assume?" he asked. "Of course," Goran answered, crossing his arms analytically. "First, why you advertise for people only to crush them when they arrive? Second, how you choose which not to crush? Third, why you burn down your own building..." He paused. "I guess that will do for starters." "Since I started publishing again... I learned some were looking for me. My wording discouraged real applicants, and the flyer hadn't been out for long. I knew that man's face, and saw you through artificial optics," he said while pointing at his own eye, as he had no idea if Goran had encountered the idea of 'artificial optics,' but wished to convey that it did indeed have something to do with the eye. Goran's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the mention of 'artificial optics', but he let Johann continue uninterrupted. Johann could be certain, though, that the subject would come up again in a future question. "I had earlier applicants... thin men were too thin, old men too old, and so on. Really poor men, I muttered where they might find a safer job, 'but all my jobs were filled'," Johann said with just a bit of smugness. "As for burning down my own building... I did not. Mandor burned down that building to get at the dangerous political radical who was printing his polemics there," Johann said very seriously as he studied Goran's expression. Goran cocked his head curiously. "Strange that such a thing would happen just at the very moment two new recruits showed up at your door. Why do you think that would be?" Goran asked. "I'm unsure you understand... but for the simple reason that one of them was, ultimately, Mandor's catspaw. Had I innocently recruited actual newsies by the ad you saw... you see, I know what happened the last time I did this," Johann said. "And that was..." Goran prompted. "Their decapatation, my being framed for the same," Johann said in the same grim vein. His nostrils had flared slightly, and he cracked his neck to one side. Goran's eyes widened in surprise. He had heard of Johann only by reputation prior to today, and he did not have enough of the story to even ask the right questions about his motives and methods. Before he hared off after cagey explanations that he might or might not understand, he pulled back to a different line of inquiry. "You mentioned artificial optics, and yes, I know what you mean by that. In a general sense, anyway." Goran rubbed the stubble on his chin studiously. "What I don't know is what you saw that made you decide not to crush me like a winemaker's grape." "Some guy from shadow, not an urbanite, not an Architect... probably no Chaosian," Johann said with a shrug. His posture was probably meant to look relaxed, but Goran could tell from the way he held himself that this was the cagey relaxation of a man ready to react to danger rather than that of a man at ease. Even when not staring at Goran directly, his eyes never left the other man entirely. Both of his hands were in sight, and while not on his gun or knife did not stray so far that he could not retrieve them in haste. "Tell me... what do you believe?" Johann asked with an intensity otherwise absent from the rest of his conversation so far, apart from when he emphasised Mandor's responsibility for the fire. If his emphasis was any indication, he placed a great deal of meaning on that word... 'believe'. Goran observed Johann's cagey manner with interest. Payne seemed on the verge of paranoia. Goran himself was alert, but he had always had a way of appearing relaxed even when the situation did not warrant it. It used to drive his mother mad. "What I believe?" As Goran considered the question, he began to pace casually, turning his back on Payne, but keeping his hands loose at his sides. He listened for any sudden movement from Payne, but he primarily wished to present a relaxed air and show he was not afraid of the man. "In what regard? Politically? Philosophically? Theologically?" He turned back to face Johann. "For starters, I believe you think you know something about me and brought me into Shadow to prove it. Correct?" "Nope... well, you're from some place a bit like Russo, judging from your accent and curses. This is the benefit of the doubt, and curiousity," Johann said with a hint of humor in his voice. "You have no political views, you just wanted some money?" Johann asked, his amusement growing. Goran could hear him working at something involving a slip of paper, and could smell tobacco and another herb, as Johann hand-rolled a cigarette with one hand. "As I said, my curiosity gets the better of me. I've worked in many jobs since coming to Amber. I like to move around, do new things, learn new things. Staves off boredom. When I saw the flyer, I wondered 'what sort of work would that be that is so dangerous that only unattached men need apply?' I'm strong. I'm unattached. And I've done dangerous things in the past and lived through them. It was the challenge, not the money, that drew me," Goran explained. "Curiosity answered?" Johann asked as he struck a match on his boot and lit the cigarette. It produced a particularly pungent scent, perhaps from the non-tobacco additions. "I can leave you at some university in shadow, with funds?" Johann offered. "Already done that, a couple times over," Goran replied. "And no, curiosity is not quite answered. What are you looking for, Payne? You lure people in to crush them or dump them out into shadow. Seems rather pointless to me. Like a revolving door that keeps spinning round. Why advertise? What's your point?" "I'm to free Amber from Chaos... if you want all the details, I'm going to have to kill you after I explain. Clearing the buildings of people and not piffing you were just charitable acts on my lunch break... but I really do need to dump you somewhere comfortable and get back to work," Johann said before taking a long drag of his cigarette and holding it. He offered it to Goran. Goran took it and took a similar drag. When he handed back the cigarette, he waved dismissively. "Thank you. No need for details. I think I get the picture now. Or at least as much of it as I need to know. As for dumping me..." he shrugged, "do it wherever you want. I can find my own way home. All roads lead to Amber," he stated, looking Johann in the eye. Johann exhaled a pair of smoke rings, then finally the rest. "That was mostly buds... you're either family, or are from closer to Amsterdam than Moscovy," he said with the hint of a grin already on his lips. Goran nodded, then exhaled. "You are right on one of those counts," he said with a smirk. "I'm glad I didn't crush you... you'd be quite mad, if I had?" Johann asked before taking another deep draw. "Probably. When I came to," Goran deadpanned with a nod. "I hope you're no turncoat like Vikund?" Johann asked almost casually. "No. To be turncoat, you must have alliegiance first. So far, I have worked for myself," Goran explained, his manner growing more serious. "It's a thin line and difficult sometimes, I'll admit, but I've not grown cozy with either side. Amber is my ancestral home and I would like on the one hand to see it returned to its former glory. But I am not attached to that; I was not here then. I did not know those days so I do not miss them so much. "On the other hand, I have seen up close what happens when a strong ruler, even a bad one, crumbles. If they hadn't regenerated, I could show you the scars to prove it. It is not pretty. And the Amber that would result would not be the Amber that was before. "I do not support the current regime, Payne. But I have not actively opposed it, either," Goran concluded. "Does that answer your questions?" "Mostly, though it raises more," Johann said calmly. "But, if you are of Oberon's blood, you are dutybound to eject the chaosians. Others have ignored it, so why shouldn't you?" Johann said with a sigh. "I don't suppose you have a better claim to the throne than Merlin?," Johann asked hopefully Goran shook his head. "'Fraid not. Not as I understand these things anyway. And as for ejecting the Chaosians... is it better to try to surgically remove a cancer or to blast away at it to the point of killing the patient?" "You don't know 'cancer' like I do. Fifty years, and they'll love Mandor's get forever. I act now, or -purge- later. As for surgery and blasting... I know what to cut. Do you?" Johann said in a relaxed manner. "I'll give you that," Goran acquiesced with a solemn nod. "Most of my life has been spent in shadow. All I know of the Amber of old is from tales told to me long ago." He spread his hands openly before him. "So. Here we are, Payne. What would you have me do?" "This shadow is hard to leave. I'll trump you out. In a month or two, it will be clear what you should do. Until then, stay out of my way," Johann said as he took another drag and offered him the joint once again. "That I can do," Goran consented, accepting the joint and inhaling deeply. "Next time, you might not be so forgiving and I've no desire to be flat."
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