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Moribund's Pub
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First to arrive, last to leave. That was how Leander liked to have all of his business meetings. It gave him control of the situation: arrive early, assess any threats, chose the best seat. And remain after the other party had gone - they were here on his terms, after all. It also gave him a chance to decompress and consider everything that had been said. Nursing his glass of whisky, the man watched his associate leave the pub before he took of his glasses and put them away. Things were looking fruitful of late, and he was actually enjoying the weeks he was having to spend in London. Of course, it would be better when he could get back to Florence, but at the moment things were taking off here. Besides, it was time he started to expand his legitimate business, and this was as good a place as any to start. Well, not the pub. He wrinkled his nose a little as he surveyed it, wondering how much it would cost. |
Waiting for Finn Barty Belcher was nursing a firewhiskey back in the dimmest, most secluded booth he could find at Moribund's. He had not been seen in Diagon Alley since he had sold the Bowling Alley several years ago--let us say he found it more convenient to be away at that particular time. But now he was back and impatiently awaiting the arrival of the man he'd arranged to meet her, hoping to do a little business. Every once in a while he reached down and nervously patted a lumpy parcel sitting right beside him on the inside edge of his seat, as if to make sure it was still there. |
Finn didn’t intend to be late, but he could not abide a squeaky door hinge. Sure, it lent itself to the general ambiance of the tavern, but it was a wrong he was compelled to right. A little grease spell, along with a few test swings, and everything was right with the world. For now. “Barty ye ol’ codger! Ya never invite me nowhere nice anymore. Don’t make me believe yer embarrassed ta’ be seen wit me.” The young junk man laughed, his bare left hand pulled out his chair, while his gloved right hand placed his tool belt on the table. “What can yer buddy Finn do for ya this time? I’ve been making all sorts of toys since nobody wants to buy the dilapidated junk that shop peddles. Gotta make treasure out of trash, ya know?” Finn squinted in the dim candlelight, and took a small screwdriver from his belt, beginning to assemble some small scraps of metal. |
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"Oh, business, business--what would bring me anwhere? But I came across something...unusual and you were the first person I thought of." Barty continued smiling at Finn as he drew out a large handkerchief-wrapped bundle from a deep pocket and set it tantalizingly on the table before him. |
"Am practically tremblin' with excitement, but I got steady hands." Continuing to assemble the scraps of metal with his small screwdriver, Finn then produced a small case. Producing a pair of lenses from the case, the tinkerer popped them into place. His glasses now complete, he tried them on, and turning a small dial back and forth that changed the magnification of the lenses, making his eyes appear larger or smaller depending on which way he turned it. "I don't deal with mysteries, but I do enjoy a good surprise. Lemme see what ya got for me today." With a wry grin, Finn set up Barty's reveal with a drum roll from his gloved hand on the tabletop. |
Barty smiled--the fish was on the line now. With a flourish, he flipped open the handkerchief-wrapped bundle, first one end and then the other, to reveal a pile of thin pieces of silver-colored metal cut into irregular diamond shapes. They sparkled even under the dim light of the pub and cast an oddly fascinating glow around the table. "There--take a look at that. Bet you're never seen the like of those, eh?" Barty said with satisfaction. |
The light from the metal pieces twinkled like stars against the lenses of his glasses, a finger adjusted their focus before he spoke again. "Can't say I have." Carefully removing the spectacles, Finn set his eyes on the wizard across from him. "I'm not here for the razzle dazzle." A hand hovered near the mysterious metal, knowing better than to just go grabbing strange magical things. "What does it do? And what do ye want me to do with it?" Barty came to the right person if he had more than shiny scrap. |
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"I could find somethin' to do with it. They do call me the metal magus." Picking up a piece of the mysterious metal in his ungloved hand, Finn turned it over a few times. "I can give you a fair price, but unless we can prove this is somethin' especially exotic, I can't offer you the premium." After placing the metal back down, the tinkerer produced a quill and piece of parchment. Quickly reviewing what he had written, Finn took the candle from their table, and dripped a dob of hot wax onto the bottom of the paper. Then he peeled off his glove, revealing his hand to be a mechanical contraption of his design. The tip of his thumb was engraved with a hammer crossed with a wand, wreathed in flame. Pressing the metal thumb into the wax, creating his seal. Pushing the parchment towards Barty, Finn slowly pulled his glove back on. "Take a looksie. If you agree to the terms, take this to the place, and put it in the box. Your galleons will find you." |
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"Exotic? Well, what sort of 'proof' were you expecting for something like this? It's definitely not exactly common--you can tell that by looking at it. Some sort of silver, it is, you can tell that right away. And look at these flourishes on it!" Barty pointed a finger at the surface of several of the pieces, which were indeed embellished or engraved with a thin, spidery sort of decoration...or had they been runes? It was hard to tell. |
With a small pouch clutched inside his palm, the tinkerer's hand moved across the table, and left it in front of Barty. "A little somethin' extra just for you. My silent partner appreciates your discretion, and would like you to keep us top of mind next time you find something special." Offering a smile, he knew that Barty was disappointed with the offer, but it would have to do. They were minor players in a larger game. |
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Then he reached out and took up the parchment, folding it twice and stowing it in a pocket behind one of the large lapels of a less-than-usually garish suit. "Ah well, Finn, a man has to try, eh? But I guess this'll have to do. And Finn," he went on talking as he reached out and took up the ends of the handkerchief holding the bright, unusual bits of metal, "Be careful with it, will yeh?" Once the bundle was securely tied in a knot from each corner, Barty stowed it in one of his large outer pockets and stood to leave. "Pleasure doin' business with you, as always." Barty was glad now he'd kept out some of this stuff to try elsewhere--he knew some jewellry peddlers who worked out of carts in Diagon Alley who might be interested in this stuff and pay a higher price. It always paid to keep your options open. |
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