Rogue Guards [Quest]

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

QUEST:
Rogue Guards

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In the shade of a stall, three men would typically be trying to escape the crackling temperatures, but by the tone of their heated discussion it's clear to see that they have more pressing issues on their minds. And it was almost an eerie scene there in the bazaar, with almost all of the stalls and shops empty. The regularly bustling marketplace was, for the lack of a better term, off. Like someone had flipped a switch and sent the shopper's and barking merchants, and mischievous children all away.

But there in the middle sat the three men, each with similar characteristics, they could have easily been cousins if not brothers, and they probably were.

"We're going in circles here." One cried with a frustrated resentment. He was the middle in age, and in stature. He wore a fine silk uniform, signifying him as a trader of some standard. On his chest was a crest; a sword crossed by a pouch of gold. "Tareq, Farhad, there has to be something we can do to resolve this. We must come to a sensible approach."

The two looked at each other, each very different. The elder brother was of average height, and observed a discomfort with the entire situation, he was Farhad, and on his back was the crest of a bag of gold coins spilling across a carpet. "Perhaps we should offer them a small sum of munny in order to... acquire their protection, rather than have their ill will pointed at our throats."

Tareq, the youngest, and tallest of the three, was immediately against the idea. "And what do you think will happen once they have entire control over our businesses? They will run us dry! We can't look for peace with these thieves. We must strike back at them, and show them that the merchants of Agrabah have more power than can be reckoned with. We'd be hailed as heroes!" Tareq's crest was on his shoulder, a vase with golden coins pouring from it.

"With what army, Tareq?" Farhad, wailed back, and despite Ibrahim's best efforts, they degenerated back into squabbling.

[brainfree]

Al Bara' surveyed the nearly empty bazaar, his source had been truthful. He'd seen it before, when someone slips a yoke around the neck of a place, those than can get out usually do, someone was draining this place dry. He hated people like that, sure he was a thief but he never took more than he needed to live... and maybe a bit more- but he never endangered anyone's livelyhoo-

His train of though was interrupted by a wailing cry, "With what army, Tareq?" He looked in the direction of the cry and saw three men bickering. With a shrug he approached the men, May as well start here, he thought to himself mildly, there's no other place to start anyway. As he closed distance he came to understand via the bickering that they were discussing the problem he had noted. Upon further thought, he decided it was a bad idea to walk up unannounced, and gave a soft whistle as he approached.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

The arguing collapsed, the three exhausted merchants giving up their disagreements for now, and they silently looked away from each other. Such had been the status quo of things for as long as they'd been in business together. Argue, calm down, argue some more, settle things. But in this cycle, the three had been unable to reach the point of 'settle things'. These guards were presenting a trouble far more troubling than your typical guard.

The low whistle caught Ibrahim's attention first, then Tareq and Farhad looked up. Farhad, stood up, smiling beneath his beard despite his obvious stress. "Ah, my friend." He began warmly, "Your patronage is... Well received, but I'm afraid, as you can see, the bazaar is not servicing customers today. Perhaps we can arrange a sale at a later date?"

Behind him, Ibrahim and Tareq leaned over, taking their attention away from the newcomer to discuss some sort of plan of action.

[brainfree]

(Sorry, I was sick. Still feel a bit crummy, so I'll keep it short.)

Al Bara' smiled smiled broadly, "I'm sorry my friend, but I have no interest in your wares at the moment." He turned back out to examine the oddly empty bazaar, "You know, its said that the merchants of Agrabah never stop selling their wares, day after day." He bent forward over the counter and whispered conspiratorially, "Makes you wonder, doesn't it? Why would so many take the day off? And why would there be need of an army?" He looked directly into the eyes of the merchant," Its almost as if there's some kind of problem here, isn't it?"

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

Both Ibrahim and Tareq looked up to the newcomer, both of them wary. Apparently they'd been paying more attention than they had seemed. Even Farhad, who seemed to be the most social of the three assembled certain amount of reproach as the other nosed into their affairs slightly. Perhaps they were a little distrusting of the newcomer, maybe even suspicious, but it was also possible they were just acting in the best interests of their trade group. Farhad didn't say anything right away, instead he looked back to Ibrahim for guidance. Tareq spoke up first; "And perhaps the strangest thing still is a certain peculiar interest in the state of our business."

Ibrahim placed a hand on Tareq's shoulder. "Calm down, brother. Please, come in." The middle brother waved towards Al Bara, and Farhad stepped out of the way to allow his passage. There were pillows enough for four to sit around a crate, which had a cloth cast over it to act as a table. Ibrahim went on, regardless of whether the other entered or not. "Please, understand. We bare no hostilities, but this is a very wary time for us. We are not accustomed to regular nicety under the current circumstance."

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

This quest is totally over. Send it on back to the drawing board.