Chapter 1: Transactions ----------------------- Seb peered around the street corner suspiciously, his eyebrows furrowed tightly. Where were they? He knew they were somewhere about. He rapped his fingers nervously on the hilt of his sword, providing a small outlet for his anxiety. A low breeze cut through the alley, blowing his fading grey cloak about. Seb was not pleased. They should have arrived hours ago. Where in the name of Kefka were they? The merchants arrived three hours late, panting and wheezing with exertion. They stumbled into the designated alley, pulling huge, heavy sacks along. There was a loud, dull clunk as they set their payloads down roughly; DiamondArmor does not tend to be light, to say the least. Then there was a small thud as they both fell to the ground, trying to catch their breaths. Seb stepped out from a shadowed doorway, his arms crossed over his chest menacingly. Though he was not exactly a physical powerhouse, the sheer cold hatred that seemed to radiate out from him made the effect quite chilling. He turned his watercolored blue eyes towards the panting merchants, and narrowed them evilly. "Where were you? You're three hours late. I don't like it when people are late," Seb whispered harshly. One merchant looked up at him from the ground, apologetic. "We tried to get here faster, but we got sidetracked by some Rhinoxes..." the merchant started, almost begging. Seb waved him off quickly. The scowl on his face lessened somewhat, and he began to slouch a bit. "Ah, don't panic. We're all friends here, right? Just try to be one time from now on, hmm? Anyway, do you have the delivery for me?" Seb replied. He had dealt with more than one Rhinox in his time, and could understand their dilemma. The merchant smiled and reached into his shirt pocket, rummaging around for a few moments before producing a small envelope. Seb took it, and looked it over with interest. After a few seconds filled with poking and prodding, he finally lifted it skyward, trying to find better illumination. "No name. Who do I give this to?" Seb asked, then turned to the merchants, who were just now raising themselves off the ground. "Message for the Impresario - something important, I'd imagine. Probably a status report from one of his talent scouts." "Talent scouts?" "Sure, the Impresario is always on the lookout for new blood. Maria can't be the star of EVERY opera, y'know. So, he hires some talent scouts to run all about the world, checking for anyone with singing or acting talent. He's been doing it for years." "Interesting. Anyway, I'll see you guys later. I'm off to get myself a quick bite to eat, and then I'm off for the Opera," Seb said distractedly. He ran his fingers through his slightly curled auburn hair and then, with a blur of grey and a cloud of kicked-up dirt, he was gone. The two merchants looked up towards the rapidly thinning cloud of dust, and couldn't help but laugh. Fastest damned courier in Jidoor. ****************** "A bag of pretzels. To go. As in now." The shopkeeper looked up at his new customer, and was more than a bit surprised to be faced with an anxious courier. He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully; he was pretty sure he hadn't heard anyone come in. He shrugged, and slowly reached his hand under the counter, his fingers searching for the food in question. The grey-cloaked courier merely paced irritatedly, apparently in something of a rush. Taking a hint, the shopkeeper picked up the pace of his pretzel search, and soon lifted his hand to the courier, his palm full of packaging. Seb grabbed it hastily. "That'll be ten GPs, sir," the shopkeep drawled out. Even as the price was given, Seb had already dropped the coins to the counter. He then quickly tore open the bag, and stuffed a pretzel into his mouth. He chewed it slowly for a moment, looking quite thoughtful, and finally waved to the bewildered shopkeeper. "Good pretzels. See ya." The characteristic flash of grey followed, and the shopkeeper was left alone in his shop, feeling as alone as he'd been when there were two people in the room. ***************** Seb's thoughts wandered to the merchant's ramblings as he sped towards the Opera House, his RunningShoes working at double speed to keep him moving faster than the monsters in the area. His shoes, a seeming gift from the gods after the fall of the Floating Continent, were his prized possession; they let him outrun the wind itself. That, and they kept him in business... However, Seb was pondering a different topic: talent scouting. The life of a talent scout seemed to be a great way to raise some quick GPs, as the Impresario was notoriously generous with his money. Further, getting around wouldn't be a problem, given his shoes and all. Plus, his ability to judge music was no worse than anyone else's; he'd taken a few lessons in how to play the flute a few years back. He was an ideal choice. Perhaps he would enquire about job vacancies once he arrived - "Damn!" Seb yelled as he skidded to a stop, broken out of his reverie. In his daydreaming, he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going; a now seemingly fatal mistake. He looked up at the huge metal creature that was now looming up before him, and wondered how it had managed to escape his notice. He'd probably mistaken it for a small mountain; it was certainly big enough... "Stop where you are, Returner scum, or I burn you down where you stand!" boomed a deep, echoing voice from within the machine. Seb backed up a step in shock as he saw the Guardian's twin cannons powering up. Suddenly, making a job offer was the least of his concerns.