Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20200125011422/@comment-28358106-20200324024529

Juno nodded awake at Dorian's mumbled statement. Pushing a bang away from her face, she fumbles a bit before sleepily spreading preserves on her eighth slice of toast.

"How much do you think we'll get?" She asks softly, focused on her task.

"Twelve hundred crowns each in cash alone," Dorian replies, putting the bracelet back in the bag. "I'll take the straw cut, naturally."

Her eyes shut in contentment, Rose looks up at the mention of the sum, her eyes wide. "Damn. Them peddlers was loaded."

"Indeed they were, and hot that their little ruse fared badly. A poor merchant dresses poor, but a rich one tries for simplicity, thinking it the same.  Their fabrics were fine.  No traveler who can afford it relishes the thought of wagoneering in roughspun." Dorian uses his dirk to peel off a slice of cheese.

"What about the jewelry?" Juno says, realization creeping into her mind.

"Mm. A few brass bits, but the rest is authentic." Dorian chews thoughtfully. "Candlemas is coming up, there'll be flowing silver aplenty. If old Dodger doesn't skimp, we could be looking at sixscore crowns each."

Dorian delivered the words evenly, but in the light, Rose and Juno's eyes grew wide.

Sixscore crowns each!

Juno went a little pale as her heart fluttered. It was more money than she had ever dreamed of. It was enough for her to get her clothes mended, and to repair her lyre---no! She could buy a new one, an even better one!

"Is that a lot?"

Everyone turned to Bailey, who looked at them with green, guileless eyes. Her timberwolf mindset meant that money meant nothing to her, but the sudden lift in mood got her attention.

Dorian sighs, annoyed at the wind being taken out of his triumph. Before he can answer, Rose blurts out.

"Bloody right it's a lot! It's as much as a bloody bishop makes in a year!"

"Oh. What's a bishop?" Bailey turns her eyes to Dorian.

"A fat, rich sod who stays rich by preying on the bourgeoisie." Dorian peels off another slice of cheese.

"Oh. We should rob him too, then," Bailey sniffs.

"And we shall, my dear. We shall.  We only need wait 'till the gods sicken of their wayward servant and send him our way."

"Okay. Good.  They better hurry, then." Bailey settles back into her jerky.