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[Meanwhile, Elsewhere]
He's been staring down at the map for six minutes saying nothing. Ink is starting to get antsy. Something about the way Isenfrii looks at things makes her nervous. He's an older man, scarred, rugged, you wouldn't call him conventionally handsome in any way, apt to pass him on the street unremarked and for all that, in his head rests a pair of clear blue eyes that look out at the rest of the world as if he genuinely, actually sees you. Sees right through you. Sees all the little ways you fit into the space around you, or don't. Ink has stared down a lot of people in her time, for Luperni operators to magnates negotiating to Minister Ghellis' pet murderers and though Commander Isenfrii of the Isenfrii Company is neither an imposing or an intimidating man she finds that she simply cannot match his gaze for too long.
He moves a token. A little red one, carved, earlier in the day, with the quick, economical motions of man who has done this kind of thing before. It's a rough humanoid figure, flapping ropes, the impressions of a quiver. He emits a little "Hm". Moves it back. And then finally, Commander Isenfrii looks *up* and Ink musters up all her focus and sallies to meet his eyes across the table and tells herself that this time she won't flinch. It takes effort. She wants to.
Isenfrii quirks an eyebrow. Something about this whole thing is funny to him. But that's the other thing that makes the man slightly difficult to be around. He looks at you as if he is actually paying attention, and he is almost always wearing a polite little smile as if the world was whispering some gently droll private joke. His voice is precise, when he speaks. He's Vanadian, but he's sandpapered down the accent through the years. You can only hear it in the way he tilts his Ls towards a higher note, some small affectation. Capital Low Street Lingo. Long way from there to here.
" So, Miss Ink, I believe we may now take it for assured fact that your undefined opposition is actively attempting to interfere with our operations. Therefore, before we proceed, I am going to have to remind you of our compact. "
Ink nods. This part is easy. This part she expected.
" Signed and sealed in your name and resting with the First Leviathan Bank, Kalcmir and Vanadian branches both. The release phrase is 'Pottery Shard'. "
She feels a faint twinge at that. Speaking the words out loud technically changes nothing, except that at some future date should anyone walk into a bank in the Vanadian capital they might walk out with a sizable part of her budget. Needs must. Isenfriim, recent millionaire and a little more, nods. Once. Reaches for a small cup.
" Then a cheers, Miss, to our continued fruitful partnership. I suggest our first order of business becomes untangling this situation. "
He indicates the map with a sweep of the cup.
" I have eight separate reports of Windsworn and other armed groups moving in loose roving order across our back-trail. . . "
