[Accept her deal]
She'll show Nikola the ropes of this business, and work with him on a particularly juicy find. Though he'll only be getting 35% of the profit.
Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!
—
It was an interesting offer, Nikola had to admit. He knew his way around danger, and he knew his way around bureaucracy. Though that was less something he learned and mastered and instead something that was forced upon him. That, however, did not mean he knew the bureaucracy of Egypt, and the last thing he needed was the government, or a trumped up government employee like that fellow at British Immigration, to stonewall him. It was seemingly a constant of the universe itself, you give a man a little power, and he will wield it in every way he could, and in many ways he couldn't. It was part of the reason why he left the government. Though, admittedly, only a small part.
"I assume you'll be sending me into mortal danger?" Nikola asks.
"Oh, nothing I couldn't handle myself I assure you. While others can happily stay in their manors and sip their wine, I'm in this for the adventure."
"Then why do you need an assistant at all?"
Morrigan smiles. "Insurance. Tell me, have you ever found yourself in a dark cavern alone with naught but your wand to protect you against a horde of Inferi?"
"Yes."
"I thought not, it is not an ordeal I would deal with again alo-" Morrigan stops, blinking slowly. "I beg your pardon, did you say
yes?"
"Yes."
"Do tell." Morrigan grins, hand moving to her chin. It is a well used and practiced smile, similar to the one on her 'business card'. Nikola stares at her for a moment, observing the way the sunlight plays through her scarlet hair. She is beautiful, he would admit.
"I cannot."
Morrigan rolls her eyes. "Ah, I see, a man of mystery. Well, do keep your secrets." Then she offers a hand forward. "65-35?"
Nikola takes her hand and shakes it, their hands faintly glowing for a moment as the magical contract is made.
Morrigan smirks, it looks even more natural than her grin did, more used. What exactly that says about the woman Nikola has no idea. Morrigan then takes a step back, puts her gloved fingers to her lips and whistles. Several heads turn their way, and Morrigan ignores all of them, instead staring down at her luggage as a small, feathered head pokes out of one of the bags. It looks up at Morrigan, black eyes blinking. Then chirps.
Morrigan beckons the raven with a finger, and it leaps out of the bag, flaps once, then flies onto her outstretched arm. Reaching into a pocket she produces a small piece of paper, writes down something onto it, then offers it to the raven. It stares down at the paper, head jerking this way and that, before it stretches out a clawed foot, takes it, then goes flying off through an open window.
"Not going to tell it where to go?" Nikola asks.
Morrigan watches it leave for a moment longer, then turns her focus onto Nikola. "Oh, the sweetie knows she's in Egypt, and there's only one place I send letters to in
Egypt. I've gone ahead and marked you down as my plus-one."
"... That easily?"
"The government knew I would be here with an assistant, just not who that assistant would be. Now, have you been to Egypt before my good man?"
"I have not."
"Then I shall gift you my first bit of advice." Morrigan says, "lose the heavier clothes. You'll burn to death out there."
Nikola sighs and points the end of the staff toward himself. He doesn't feel temperature, not anymore. He didn't feel hunger, or much of anything else either. His senses are dulled, very dulled. But they were
only that. He still required food, he still could suffer from heatstroke, he could still freeze. Losing the protection provided by his coat is annoying, passing out in the desert is another thing entirely however. The coat slides off his body, hovering in the air for a moment before folding itself up neatly and shrinking. He grabs it, and stuffs it into a pocket. At the same time the sleeves of the shirt underneath extend to his wrist, and change from a deep black to a bright white. The pants remain the same, as do the sunglasses on his face to cover his eyes.
"That'll do I suppose," Morrigan says, "you look rather
delightfully like a tourist."
"And you don't?" Nikola asks.
"Oh dear me no." Morrigan says, then taps her wand onto her luggage, it disappears from view a second later. Where it went, Nikola has little idea. Then she smiles at Nikola, her golden blazer glinting in the sunlight passing through the wide archway leading into the building. "I look like I own the place." Then with a flourish, she points out said archway. "Now come along then, it isn't a far walk to my broker."
She then walks off, leaving Nikola to follow.
—
The first thing that strikes Nikola is the sudden and rapid intensity of the sun. To transition from indoors to outdoors usually left a moment of blindness. To transition from the inside of that government complex to the midst of Magical Cairo was roughly the equivalent of someone holding up a wand to the eye and casting Lumos. He blinks quickly, pale eyes taking a moment to adjust to the shocking brightness, and when they do… he finds himself staring at a skeleton.
It snorted.
The long neck of the skeletal camel turns, and continues to walk onwards, bags jostling on its back piled precariously high. Leading it along is an elderly man, beard so long it tickles the stone pavement as he walks along, and hunched over nearly 45 degrees. Behind him, with a clatter of bone upon bone, the undead camel follows along. Nikola watches it for a moment, then turns his attention to the wider plaza he has found himself in. It is far wider than Diagon or Knockturn, instead of being a mere alley, this was an expansive square space filled with statues and fountains. Palm trees grew out of the stone, arranged in a neat line going from one end of the plaza to another, wizards and others huddled underneath them, enjoying the shade as oddly well dressed elves moved about, fanning them.
Buildings surrounded the plaza, all made of gleaming white stone. Some were obviously government, draped in flags. Others were far more simple in function, shops, restaurants… mostly shops. Morrigan continues to walk into the plaza without a word, leaving Nikola to follow along. The witches and wizards, of which there were hundreds around, were dressed in a rather eclectic mix of fashion. Some wear traditional silks and linen Nikola would associate with the region, others are wearing a fashion far more like Morrigan, business clothes or simple everyday wear. All had wands tucked around their persons, though a few he notes are carrying curved daggers at the waist as well.
Morrigan cuts through a row of palms, neatly stepping around a house-elf wearing a cloth hat fanning an elderly looking witch reading a book, a snake on her shoulder slithering down to turn the page for her. A wizard covered in… what appears to be gold face paint leans over to whisper something into the old witch's ear, and she grunts. Morrigan keeps the pace, and Nikola follows along. They leave the plaza after a minute of walking, past shops selling parts of mummies, another selling physical wards, past a mosque, and a rather odd pair of shops, with one offering tomb-liquidation, and another offering tomb-investment. How precisely that worked, Nikola has no idea, but they continue on. The government buildings are gone now, as are the 'classier' shop. The buildings are more rundown, the crowds rougher after a good half hour of walking, until, finally, Morrigan takes a quick right and steps inside a squat one story building that looks like it was built a few millenia prior. A look that appears to be deliberate at that. Shattered, fading masonry gives way to a starkly well kept interior. A counter sits at the far end of the building, upon which a skeletal cat was curled up and sleeping. Nearby, perched against the walls to the right and left, going from the back of the building all the way to the very front are sarcophagi, some golden and ornate, some little more than carved stone, all were propped open and empty, but each was numbered on the inside with what appears to be chalk. Above them, both on the walls and on the ceiling are photos, depicting witches and wizards smiling at the camera, waving or proudly showing off trophies in front of, or in, tombs.
Morrigan pays attention to none of it, instead she walks up to the counter and taps her finger on it. "Kareem~" she calls out sweetly.
A man's head pokes out from the back, bald, fat, but with a bright grin that reveals a mouth of perfect teeth. The rest of him appears a moment later, he is a large man, though nearly more round than tall. Dressed in white linens that trail on the floor behind him. One half of the robes hangs more lopsided than the other, and it takes Nikola a moment to realize that the man was missing an arm.
"Morrigan, my favorite customer!" the man greets in accented, but still very understandable English.
"I'm
everyone's favorite customer," Morrigan replies. "You have that tomb for me?"
The man somehow smiles even wider, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Indeed indeed! An untouched tomb, ripe for harvest in the south end of the country. I've had a searcher place a portkey there already." His eyes shift from Morrigan, to Nikola. "Is this your new assistant?"
"Indeed," Morrigan replies, mirth in her voice. "Perhaps more of an apprentice, in any case, untouched?"
Kareem shrugs.
"Anyone important?"
"Oh, perhaps," Kareem replies. "The writings mention it being the six son, of the seventh son of-"
"Anyone
important?" Morrigan repeats.
"Merchant's tomb." Kareem says, leaning across the counter. The undead cat stirs, but doesn't bother getting up.
"Good enough," Morrigan says, then reaches into her breast pocket to place a small stack of galleons onto the counter.
The man slides the money back behind the counter, disappearing the moment it tips over the edge. Then he wanders to the back, a loud clatter is heard, and he returns carrying a small pendant shaped like a flat, stylized eye. Morrigan stares down at it, "Kareem,
really, that old superstition?"
Kareem shrugs again, "What can I say, my searchers are superstitious. Good luck with your plundering!"
Morrigan looks over the eye for a moment, then turns to look at Nikola. "Well, shall we?"
Nikola reaches out and grabs the eye, then they are elsewhere.
—
It was bright in the middle of Cairo.
It is blinding in the middle of Southern Egypt. Morrigan and Nikola appear on top of a rocky dune. Morrigan tucks the eye into a pocket, while Nikola stumbles for a moment, getting his footing before looking around. They are… nowhere, at least from first appearances. Desert stretched out in all directions, wind-worn stone and sand as far as the eye could see. At least until his gaze landed on an outcropping of
carved rock just a few feet nearby. It juts out of the sand a good four feet, it doesn't look like an entrance to anything in particular, or an entrance at all for that matter. But the stone isn't carved by wind either.
Morrigan's gaze lands upon it the same time his does, and reaching up, she produces her wand from where it is nested in her hair, points it forward, then-
"Bombarda!"
An eruption of wind and flame hits the sand just near the stone. The sand bursts, flying every which way… and revealing… the entrance to a tomb, blocked by a single, rectangular slab of stone. It wasn't a large, or even particularly ornate thing. It looked like something carved out of a cave… or a rock turned into one. The faces of the stone had no markings, no ornamentation, at least, not anymore. Morrigan walks forward, stepping down the dune and stopping just before the block of stone blocking the entrance. Nikola follows along a few seconds later, his boots crunching against the sand.
Morrigan reaches out a hand, stopping just short of the stone block with a frown. "This… is
far too easy."
"He mentioned it isn't anyone important." Nikola replies, staring at the rock as well. It was well carved, hardly damaged by however long it had been there.
"Quite." She moves her hand back, then points her wand at it. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The rock doesn't budge.
Morrigan frowns. "Alohomora."
The rock, in its infinite wisdom, continues to not move.
Morrigan stares at it, leaning in close, but still not touching the rock, her wand poking her bottom lip as she visibly thinks. "A ward perhaps?"
"Not that I can see," Nikola says, leaning in just beside her. "Let me take a look from another side."
"I would not suggest breaking it down from the sides, lest there are trap-" Morrigan begins.
Nikola walks through the rock, a chill filling him for a moment before he steps through to the other side. He finds himself in a very dark corridor, sandswept near the entrance, but otherwise unmarred, it stretches out for a good hundred yards further down before his eyes are unable to pick up anything more in the darkness. Rather deep, he muses. Then he turns around to face the rock. White paint, perfectly preserved despite the years, marks the back of the rock. Carefully painted lines, symbols, and runic markings dot it. All designed to make the thing wholly immovable and decidedly deadly if one chooses to mess with it. It is also, to Nikola's slight disappointment, rather basic. The nice part about runics is that the practice hasn't really changed since the time of their discovery, added on certainly, but there were
rules to runework, and once one understood the geometry… one could pick up one culture's take on it like one could any other's.
Reaching into his pocket, he fiddled with the pockets of his coat, producing a small green bottle a moment later. Popping off the top, the acrid scent of troll alcohol fills the air, before, dipping it against a small bit of cloth, he wipes it down the rock, staring with the outside, then working inwards. A few moments later, the most
pressing runes were washed away, puddling down onto the floor. Then he raises his staff, pressing it against the back of the rock. "Morrigan, are you in front of the doorway?"
"No, I'm a few feet to the side in case it explodes."
"Wise," then Nikola presses the tip of his staff against it. With the force of a cannon the rock bursts out of the tomb, crashing into the dune Nikola and Morrigan arrived on. Light pours in, shadowed slightly a moment later by Morrigan poking her head around the corner to look inside.
Nikola steps forward, then pauses as a wooden spike, roughly a half-foot wide bursts from a hidden hole in the wall, passes straight through his head. Quite literally through, he stares at it, watching as it phases through his flesh. It falls to the ground with a clatter a moment later, its job done. Nikola stares at it, then looks to Morrigan. "I do believe Kareem stated this tomb was safe."
"No, he said we would be the first people to enter. Now, kindly do explain how you did that?" Morrigan asks, her voice a mix of surprise and…
glee.
"Which part?" Nikola asks.
Morrigan stares at him, unamused.
Reaching up, Nikola removes his sunglasses, revealing the pale white, faintly glowing eyes. "I am half-ghost."
Morrigan stares at him for several moments, staring him in the eyes… something few people did. Then she smiles. "Well, that will be useful. But of course, I've always had an eye for talent."
"You aren't curious?" Nikola asks, tucking the glasses away.
"Do you want to tell me how that came to be?"
"Not particularly."
Morrigan chuckles. "Then it doesn't matter, what matters is that you are
useful, now." She sticks her wand forward, stepping past Nikola and into the tomb. "An oddly well defended tomb for a mere merchant… and a large one at that. Lets see what there is to find, shall we?" she says, mirth clear in her voice.
"You don't want me to go first?" Nikola asks, genuinely curious.
Morrigan doesn't look at him, instead she's staring at the floor as she moves, her eyes shifting to the ceiling and walls with every other step as well. "
Please, the danger is part of the fun, now, do keep up."
Nikola stares after her for a moment, then follows in step behind. All the while, they begin to talk.
—
[] [Ask about her line of work, she kept talking about it, even as Nikola and Morrigan had to fight a crocodile that believed itself the rightful King of Egypt]
[] [Ask about her, she seemed rather proud of her own existence. So did that rambling mad muggle that had been wandering down here for two hundred years]
[] [She asks about Nikola, even as they discover a portal leading to… somewhere different]
