[Dargon-writers-list] Story(JMO): Stolen Thunder, Draft 4

[Jim Owens]

                            Stolen Thunder
                             By Jim Owens
                          gymfuzz at yahoo.com
                            Seber 1, 1018


     Nessis Romen knew that this was that day, the day he was finally going 
to make his mark. He sat on an old abandoned crate at the intersection where 
Main and Commercial Streets met the Street of Travellers. The air was ripe with 
possibilities, as well as with the odor of fish, spices, and unwashed 
sailors. The docks were a riot of movement, as workers carried freight from 
ships to warehouses, from warehouses to ships, and from ships to other 
ships.  Vendors hawked merchandise, traders bargained with shippers, and the 
sound of their voices blended together with the cacophony of screegulls and 
sailors. Nessis waited, and watched, knowing that if he just kept his eyes 
open, the right opportunity would present itself. 
     And so it did.  There in the distance, Nessis noticed an overburdened 
sailor about to lose his sack.  The hapless wight proceeded slowly up from 
the docks toward Travellers. To Nessis it looked like the sailor was 
carrying everything he had ever owned, and that was quite possibly true. A 
rucksack, large and tied with red rope, hung off the sailor's shoulders.  A 
smaller sack of calico was tucked under one arm.  His other arm clutched a 
third bag of old sailcloth. None of those sacks or bags, however, caught 
Nessis' eye nearly so much as the faded green bag tucked precariously under 
the bag on the sailor's right side. It wasn't big, but Nessis could see it 
would soon fall to the ground. Once there, it could be anyone's property.
     Nessis wondered what was inside the green bag as he dropped his coat 
into his own dirty rucksack and walked into the stream of traffic flowing 
through the intersection. Nessis set a fast pace and soon slipped in behind 
the sailor. From the way the green bag was bulging, it seemed to be filled 
with some sort of rods.   Nessis aped the man's pace and posture, staying 
close behind him but out of the man's sight. Nessis carried his own rucksack 
as if it were heavier than it really was, shifting it from side to side like 
he were trying to balance a load. He watched the green bag slip further out 
of its resting place. Soon it would fall.
     Suddenly the sailor turned aside. Caught unaware, Nessis was slow in 
reacting, and a passing workman came between them. As he waited for the 
worker to pass, Nessis saw that the sailor was heading for two guards who 
were on their morning rounds. Nessis knew one of the guards, a sour 
individual by the name of Liat. They had encountered each other often over 
the years. Nessis often didn't fare well in those meetings.
     "Pardon me, sir," the sailor started. The nearest guard, the new one 
that Nessis didn’t know, turned to face the sailor, who continued. "Where 
might I find the home of Aardvard Factotum?" The guard shifted uncomfortably 
from one foot to the other and stammered incoherently.
     "Up this road, over the causeway, and in Old Town," growled Liat. 
Without even stopping, Liat continued on his round, and the other guard 
quickly turned away to follow him. Nessis breathed a sigh of relief.
     "Straight," replied the sailor, just as Nessis intentionally walked 
into him. The impact finally dislodged the green bag. Just as it fell free 
Nessis dropped his own light sack over the smaller green bag, hiding it.
     "Oy, pardon," Nessis muttered in a fake accent, making a fuss over his 
own sack. The sailor scowled at him.
     "No problem," the sailor grunted, and moved off. Nessis watched him go 
out of the corner of his eye, making a show of opening his sack and 
repacking his coat until the man was out of sight. Then Nessis lifted his 
sack, grabbed the small green bag, popped the bag into his sack, and returned 
to his starting spot at the corner of Travellers Street and Commercial.
     When he arrived back at his makeshift lookout, Nessis found it occupied 
by a lad named Josey. As the man approached, the boy hopped off the 
abandoned crates, yielding the perch. Nessis was older than Josey by at 
least a decade.
     "Whatcha got?" asked Josey.
     "Goods and things, stuff and rings," Nessis rhymed as he sat down and 
opened his sack. He looked around to see if he was being watched, but no one 
seemed to be trying to pick him out of the milling crowd. He reached down into 
the rucksack and examined the knot that tied the green bag shut. It was a 
right sailorly knot, but Nessis had been stealing around docks for a while 
and he easily untied it. He opened the green bag and looked inside. Sure 
enough, it was filled with tubes. He took one out and examined it. The tube 
was heavy, and made of colorful paper rolled tightly together. One end had 
been crimped together and covered with a blunt cap of clay, the other was 
plugged with clay and had a stout bit of twine sticking out. The twine was 
also covered in clay.
     "What's in it?" asked Josey.
     "Nothing you can't see without a coin," replied Nessis.
     "Let me see!" piped Josey, ignoring the double negative, and Nessis showed 
him the tube. Josey held the tube string end up and shook it. "It's full! 
Can I open it?"
     "No, let me," Nessis replied, hoping to hide his own ignorance. He took 
the tube back and, feigning confidence, pulled the stiff cord. It came out, 
crumbling the clay cap. The end of the string was covered in a gritty black 
substance. Nessis tasted it, then spat.
     "Has it gone off?" Josey asked.
     "No, it's just right," Nessis said. "It's saltpeter, and sulfur. It's 
supposed to taste like that."
     "Like what?"
     "Like that," Nessis replied, as if the matter were obvious. He thought 
for a moment. "Like a love tonic."
     "A tonic is a drink," replied Josey, sardonically. "That's a powder. 
You don't really know what it is, do you? I bet you pinched it!"
     Nessis knew that Josey knew that Nessis didn't know what it was, just 
as Josey also knew that Nessis had, in fact, just pinched the bag, but he 
needed to keep up appearances.
     "What an idea!" Nessis replied, tapping the tube against his hand and 
examining the glistening powder which came out. "Pinched it? Why, I am an 
honest businessman, out on a fine day like today to make an honest living 
selling my wares." The powder inside the tube was staying inside the tube, 
so Nessis gave it a smart rap against the side of the crate. The powder now 
poured more freely.
     "You don't even know what it does," sniffed Josey, and slipped off, 
leaving Nessis to consider his newly-gotten wares.

     A bell later Josey again passed by the corner of Travellers and 
Commercial Streets. At first he did not see Nessis there, so he sat down
on the old crate. After a mene his wandering eye picked the familiar face out 
of a small knot of folk on the other side of the wide intersection. Josey 
got up and wandered over, arriving just as the group broke up, with everyone 
but Nessis wandering off. Nessis was wearing a small vendor’s ware-box that he 
used occasionally. In it lay the paper tubes.
     "Sell any yet?" Josey asked as he walked up. He reached in to pick one 
up, but Nessis slapped his hand away.
     "Not with riff-raff like you scaring off the customers, I’m not. Go 
away!" Nessis was obviously tense, but Josey could tell most of his fury was 
feigned.
     "What are you calling them?"
     "What they are, of course! You, sir, hello!" Nessis tried hailing a 
passerby, who ignored him thoroughly.
     "And what are they?" Josey asked, picking one up. Nessis snatched it 
away and put it back in the box.
     "My business, and none of yours, thank you! Good day, madam! Might I 
interest you ...?" The woman in question didn't even turn her head.
     "How much are --?"
     "Look, I’m quite busy now, so if you don’t mind, push off!" Nessis gave 
Josey a shove and turned away, following a well-dressed man up the 
street. "Excuse me, sir ...?"

     A few bells later, Josey was again down by the docks. He had some 
smoked pigeon, and was gnawing at it appreciatively, making it last. He 
again spotted Nessis at the intersection, and wandered over. Nessis was 
sitting crosslegged beside his vendor’s box, which sat empty on the ground. 
With one tired hand he steadied a pole, from which the paper tubes were 
suspended by threads. Nessis' small movements were making them dance 
merrily.
     "I see you sold one," Josey said. "Who bought it?"
     "No one bought it. Meekee stole it from me as a prank when I was 
setting this up. He unwrapped it and ate the powder inside, then got sick 
and puked it all up on the wrapper. I threw it away."
     "I see they got a new delivery of Corathin pottery at the Venilek 
today. They looked a lot nicer than those ones you were selling a sennight 
ago."
     "Those were the more economical model," replied Nessis proudly. "From 
an alternate vendor."
     "Why did you stop selling them? Weren't you making good money off 
them?"
     "The guard made me stop. I think they were paid off. Professional 
jealousy from rivals."
     Josey nodded sagely. He held out his food. "Wanna bite?"
     Nessis eyed the treat disinterestedly for a long moment, then spoke 
without lifting his head. "I'll trade you what's left for one of my tubes."
     Josey looked them over twice then shook his head. "No thanks. But you 
can have a bite for free."
     Nessis shrugged. "Straight."

     By dark Josey had a small fire going behind the crate. He had roasted a 
large fish that Nessis had found and was beginning to pull the skin off and 
eat it. Nessis appeared from the gloom, a small bundle of driftwood in his 
hands. He carefully piled the wood by the fire and sat down. He accepted a 
bit of the skin from his cook and nibbled it. They ate silently together for 
several menes.
     "How long have have I known you?" Nessis finally asked Josey.
     "Me?" Josey pulled a slab of meat off the fish, broke it in two, and gave one 
half to Nessis. "I dunno. A sennight? A month or two? Ever since you pulled 
me out of the river."
     "That was less than a month ago," commented Nessis, then fell silent 
for another moment before continuing. "Do you think I'm a good businessman?"
     "Sure you are," replied Josey enthusiastically. "You're the best in the 
business in the whole city, better even than the king himself."
     "Of course I am," replied Nessis, partly to himself. "And even a good 
businessman can't sell goods that are broken or defective, now can he?"
     "Of course not," replied Josey, glancing over at the green bag. Nessis 
followed his gaze, and together they stared at the cylindrical lumps within. 
Finally Nessis roused himself and got to his feet.
     "Well, if they won’t sell, then maybe at least they’ll make good 
firewood." He took the bag, walked to the fire, and poured the rods out into 
the flames.

     Not far away, bobbing gently at dock, sat the Sanctuary. The original 
owner of those colorful rods sat on deck with a mug of warm grog. Beside him 
sat a fellow shipmate.
     "No," Lars was saying, "I’ve never seen anyone wearing clothes like 
that before, but this is Dargon, after all; everything strange comes here at 
least once. I heard more than one person say they'd seen someone like that 
come through before."
     "If nothing else they seemed very polite," Hestor replied, then shook 
his head ruefully. "I still can't believe I lost those things."
     "Give it up, man," Lars said. "I'm sure you'll never see those 
firetubes again."
     "The worst part is," Hestor said slowly, "is that whoever stole them 
probably has no idea even what they are."
     Just then, from down the street, there came a sudden burst of red light.
A shrill shriek followed as both men quickly stood. Strange flaming objects 
screamed up into the night sky from some hidden spot, then disappeared with 
a flash, a bang, and a shower of sparks. As the last one exploded, a man ran 
out into the street, his hair on fire. He hooted and hopped about for a 
moment, swatting at his head. Then he dashed to the shore and flung himself 
head first into the waves.
     Lars and Hestor looked at each other, clinked their mugs together, and 
then burst out laughing.
     "Well," said Lars after a mene, "there you go!"
     "Serves him right! And! And I got to see them go off!" Hestor shook his 
head and chuckled mightily. "Ow! I bet that's gonna leave a mark."

     The next day was cloudy but dry. At the corner of Temple and Atelier a 
man and a woman sat on the stoop of a large house.
     "... should help keep those rats out of your grain for at least three 
sennights. Just be sure to keep it away from plaids."
     "Yes, Lord Arbogast, I certainly will," the old woman said as she 
accepted the parcel and rose to her feet. "Sorry for taking so much of your 
time. Thank you!"
     "You are welcome. And please stop calling me 'Lord'. I'm just an old man 
who knows a thing or two." He got to his feet as well, watching her go. He 
then turned and went into the house. He nodded at the two young scribes 
working at a desk in the entrance, and they bowed their heads in deference. 
Arbogast entered the main room and turned off towards his study. He paused 
at the door, then moved down a long hall and out the back door. A few feet 
away there was a tiny house, standing all alone. He entered and closed the 
door. In the darkness he uttered a brief saying. There were no windows, but 
suddenly a green light filled the air. Satisfied, Arbogast began to undo 
his belt.
     Suddenly the door opened. Arbogast cocked an eyebrow as he examined the 
man who stood in the door. "Can I help you?" Arbogast asked.
     "Yes," the man said, looking furtively around. His face was bright red, 
and marked with soot. His hair was singed down to mere tufts, and his clothing 
was burned and packed with small holes. He reached into his cloak and pulled 
out a brightly colored tube.
     "How much will you charge me to make a hundred of these?" asked Nessis 
with a grin.
 




"In a rare display of  bipartisan support for preserving the environment and promoting a paperless  economy, Congress today approved a bill requiring that by 2015 all federal  offices must replace paper output with electronic output in all public  restrooms."

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