Independence and self-reliance. Those are the values of the Fated. The irony of it all is that if there's any Faction with all sort of connections they're willing to use for the right price it's probably the bloods in the Hall of Records.
Now, Surra's just a Namer and she knows that, but she can tell when opportunity comes knocking at her door. Especially when there's a cut to be made in some juicy business if she can find the right service provider and point them in the direction of an interested customer.
Course, no reward without honest work. That's the motto. Sitting in a small office of the Hall of Records, Surra wrote a few letters to people she knew back home in Rokugan. Smugglers. Monster hunters. Alchemists. Even one really quirky chef of her acquaintance. Asking for news, naturally, but also if they've caught the opal-fire glimmer of some dragonbile of late. A rare and precious liquid if there ever was such a thing.
And if that's not enough there's always a thriving commerce in the City of Doors. If it can be found then it's gotta be found somewhere.
Now, what was that about the Night Market in the Hive she'd heard about a couple weeks ago? The place was called... Mercurius Curious Curios, right?
Time to see how far the rabbit hole goes.
Business As Usual
