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First Hand Experience; *closed*
Topic Started: Mar 8 2017, 02:51 AM (248 Views)
Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

[adminapproval=30106937]Dangerous circumstances were not ones Emmett often delved into. Of the youngest generation of Lancasters, he was one of the few to play life safe, unlike his sister and their other more reckless relatives. Scitorari members or sympathisers who sought out trouble at every turn. It was those kinds of situations he tried his best to avoid. He didn't have the powers of prophecy his sister possessed, he couldn't predict the outcomes of his choices. Perhaps if he could, he wouldn't have let Fenris persuade him to go through with the idea of procuring illegal goods to further his studies. Ingredients like Basilisk Venom or Snidget Feathers were difficult to come by, as they were generally rare or protected creatures. As a wandlorist, if Emmett was going to make any progress in his craft, or create a substantial wand, he'd need to expand beyond the mundane ingredients he had access to.

With a deep breath of the cool night air, and a pocket filled with galleons of questionable legitimacy, the Lancaster wizard walked slowly down the shaded, cobbled roads of Bleak Street. He was familiar with the scene, the boy worked only around the corner in Obsidian Harbor, and his family ran it's own business in Bleak itself, but he was headed to the furthest depths of the street, out of the prying eyes of the Ministry and common folk. He'd be meeting with a wizard, but it wasn't until he reached his destination that he realised, especially in the dark of the night, he didn't know exactly how to recognise who he was looking for.
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

Carson Creed dealt in many goods considered by the Ministry of Magic to be quote unquote "illegal". The idea that trading of items could be restricted was absurd to him. He refused to allow some elderly has-beens dictate what he could or could not do. He lived life as he wanted, not as he was told. He wasn’t born to blindly follow the rules set out by strangers who hadn't earned his respect.

His healthy disrespect for authority, and inability to settle down in a mundane occupation led the man to a more adventurous lifestyle. He had been many things in his life. A thief, a poacher, a treasure hunter. He'd accumulated valuable and powerful items over the years, but the only thing he valued was money. Trinkets couldn't feed him, or keep a roof over his head. Selling and trading his collections kept him comfortable .

When a young boy, barely even a man, came looking for a Class A Non-Tradable Good, Carson was happy to oblige. He knew of his family, they were far from affiliated with the Ministry and it's laws, so as long as he had the gold, he was willing to sell. The youth was easily spotted from a mile away. Something about his walk, and his attire, didn't match with the typical thugs that skulked around the street. "Oi, kid. C'mere." The man hissed through his teeth to get the boy's attention, waving him across to one of the off-shooting alleyways and out of sight of the Main Street. Even here, he didn't like to do business in the open.
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

The Lancaster boy almost jumped as a voice broke the eerie silence that clung to the air. His hands shifted uncomfortably in his pockets, fingertips half curled around his wand as a safety precaution, comforted by its familiarity in the less familiar environment. This was it. "Mr. Creed?" He asked quietly, initially hesitant to follow the man down the somehow darker part of the street. There was a definite sense of recognition in the stranger's voice. It had to be his seller, a fact the man confirmed. If there was one thing he'd been told, it was not to show weakness in a place like this, so one foot after the next, he crossed the chipped stone street and headed down the alley, eager to get the transaction over and done with. The less time spent there, the better. "Have you got it? The egg?" He spoke barely above a whisper, unsure of exactly who, or what, could be listening to him. At the very least, the safety of The Silver Snake was only a short sprint away if trouble started.
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

Carson wasn't a patient man. He huffed to himself as the young boy took his time to join him and merely nodded his confirmations to his first few questions. "Yer, I got it. One big spider egg. Pretty, innit?" He responded while producing the large, white sphere from the inner pocket of his coat. He allowed the kid only a brief look before depositing it safely back in its hiding place. It was not an easy thing to get his hands on, but he heard the creatures made great guards. What the kid wanted it for, he didn't know, nor did he ask. At his age, he couldn't imagine what the boy had of value that required such a creature's protection. "You got the galleons?"
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

Emmett couldn't help but stare in awe at the white orb the man held out, almost finding it difficult to believe something was growing inside of it. "Acromantula Egg." He corrected, unable to stop himself. The creature wasn't just any spider, it was an impressive and dangerous beast capable of human speech and intelligence, and deserved more respect than some common household arachnid. His expression visibly faltered as the egg was taken away, and hastily he reached for the sack of galleons in his pocket, passing them across to the older man. "Here, its all there. May I have the egg?" He queried, eager to get out of Bleak and back into a more comfortable environment. The coins in the bag only amounted to half the actual price for the egg. They weren't cheap, and Ollivanders only paid him so much. Fenris had given him the rest as counterfeit galleons, which he was assured were virtually impossible to tell apart. Emmett could only hope it was true.
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

Carson's brows furrowed in annoyance as the kid corrected him. "I know what they're called." He snapped, arms folded tightly across his chest as if further barring him from the contents of his jacket It was not until the galleons were produced that the older man dropped his stance and let his arms fall back down to their sides. "Good. Lemme see it." The heavy sack was passed to him, and the dealer roughly tugged at its drawstrings, revealing the glittering golden coins inside. "Nice, very nice..." Creed trailed off and set the bag on a crate beside him, before reaching into his coat and withdrawing the white egg, which he placed beside the sack. "Looks good, kid. Enjoy yer new pet. I'm guessin' you know how to hatch it?" His fingers raked streaks through the coins as he spoke, occasionally lifting a few to inspect them in detail. He was confident that it was genuine, the boy wasn't stupid enough to betray him, surely. Not when he knew his family, and exactly where he worked.
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

With an inward sigh of relief, Emmett let his shoulders relax, exhaling quietly through his nose. The idiot of a peddler appeared more than satisfied with the authenticity of the galleons he'd handed over. He could hardly believe how easy it had been to do. The wizard could only imagine what else he could buy with the false coins, but as tempting as it was, it wasn't a habit he was comfortable getting too far into. This was a once off situation, at best. Even once had its risks. Trying not to show his haste, he reached for the acromantula egg and lifted it from the crate it was nestled on, moving to deposit it in his pocket with its own undetectable extension charm. He wasn't about to be seen walking around in broad daylight holding a non-tradeable good. "Of course. Pleasure doing business with you." The Lancaster boy nodded his thanks, before turning back to the street, making to get out of there as quickly as possible. He had to get the egg somewhere safe and secure as soon as he could.
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

"Wait." Creed commanded once the boy attempted to leave. He'd been staring at one particular galleon for a few moments now, almost oblivious to his buyer taking his goods and walking away. Something wasn't quite right with it, but it didn't take him too long to figure out exactly what was different. He'd done enough deals to recognize a counterfeit, no matter how alike it looked. "You tryin' ter pull the wool over my eyes? I know fake money when I see it." He growled, tossing the coin to the cobbled ground. It clinked twice and rolled toward a nearby drain, settling with a loud clang on top of its grate. The man's wand unsheathed from his sleeve and he raised it up, pointed at the back of the brunette's head. "Don't think yer walking away with that spider until yer've paid in full. Plus some. D'you think I'm stupid?"
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

Emmett had barely made it to the end of the alleyway before the goods dealer spoke, making his blood run cold. Close. So close. Of course it couldn't be this easy. He was going to kill Fenris if and when he got back home. "I don't know what you mean." The younger wizard responded, trying his best at sounding as convincingly confused by the statement as he could. He turned around slowly, one hand casually in his pocket, hoping it wouldn't be necessary to use his wand. "What are you trying to accuse me of? Or is this a scare tactic to try and intimidate more money out of your buyers?" He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, his mind racing to figure out how to deal with the situation while still getting out in one piece. The wand pointed at him made apparition too risky a move. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you exactly what my family is capable of. I'll be leaving now."
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

A threat. The little prat was trying to threaten him. No one scared Carson Creed, not even a family of so-called Necromancers. He wasn't going to back down to people who could raise a few dead people. They were dead for a good reason, because they were weak witches and wizards in life. Reanimated corpses weren't any better. They lacked any magical capability. "D'you dare ter cheat and threaten me? I thought you were smarter than that, kid." His voice was a low growl by now, and his wand cut cleanly through the air. "Sectumsempra!" He'd teach the boy a lesson in the consequence of scamming. If he survived to learn it, that was.
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

Emmett's eyes widened and he took a step back, watching as Creed attacked him with a spell and only just barely managing to withdraw his own wand and conjure up a shield, deflecting the curse away from himself, where it cut a deep gauge in the alley wall. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. These things didn't happen to him. He didn't expect some lower-class thief to actually catch on to the scam. He'd been assured the deal would go smoothly, that it was be almost impossible for anyone who wasn't a goblin to discern the fake galleons, but now here he was, defending himself from a Bleak street lowlife. "Expelliarmus." Nothing other than the simple disarming spell came to mind in the heat of the moment, but if it worked, it'd buy him enough time to get out and away.
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Carson Creed
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Carson laughed at the disarming charm heading his way, effortlessly blocking the spell with his wand."Pathetic. D'you really think you can beat me?" He taunted, amused that someone so young would attempt to take on a more experienced wizard. He slashed his wand through the air again, firing off multiple curses with each wave in an attempt to overwhelm the youth and break down his defenses. He'd get his money and his egg, and leave the boy for whatever man or creature found him first.
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

The returning attacks came hard and fast, giving Emmett barely enough time to protect himself. He casted shield after shield, each transparent barrier rippling into life, only to be immediately shattered into pieces. His heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't a duelist. Studying wandlore and the theory behind how wands worked was vastly difference to the actual practice of using one. Aside from his classes at Durmstrang, he lacked the proper experience at dueling. Mere knowledge wasn't going to save him this time. "Protego!" He shouted for the fourth time, but his gradually weakening shields could only take so much. The resulting explosion from a blasting curse annihilated his protection and reduced the solid pavement beneath his feet into rubble, knocking him back into the alley wall and sending a jarring pain through his body on contact. Dazed, he raised a hand to his head, his vision blurred by the stabbing pain of the impact with the wall, and realised that he'd dropped his wand in the process, only dimly aware of the sound of it cluttering uselessly against the ground. It was over. "W-wait. You can have the egg back." He was in no shape to continue fighting now. An acromantula wasn't worth dying over.
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Carson Creed
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Thief l Non-Tradeable Goods Dealer

The dark wizard smirked, lowering his wand and taking a step forward as the dust from the blast cleared, settling quietly throughout the surrounding alleyway. It was almost too easy. There'd been no thrill to the fight. It was to be expected. "I can 'ave it back, can I? That's generous of you." He laughed and shook his head, tsking loudly with his tongue. "It's a bit too late for that. Can't 'ave you coming back with some friends of yers now. Gotta make sure ya don't trouble me again, you understand." His voice dropped the previously aggressive tone, switching to a more business manner. He'd won. The man raised his wand once more, the corners of his lips tweaking up into a triumphant smile, before conjuring forth a jet of cold blue and black fire.
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Emmett Lancaster
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Ollivander's Assistant ϟ Wandlorist Bowtruckle Owner

Emmett blinked back hot tears that were slowly forming from the pain in his head, distorting his vision of the alley and his attacker. A sticky wet patch of blood coated his hand, pressed heavily against the side of his head from where a jagged piece of stone had sliced him, but from the feel of the wound, it was no serious injury. At the very least, not as serious as they were about to get. He could barely focus on the words coming out of Creed's mouth, but his actions spoke for themselves. He wasn't interested in letting him get away. "No, wait, stop." He managed to weakly say, throwing up his free hand as his only remaining form of defense against the older wizard. The jet of enchanted fire made contact with his open palm, engulfing his outstretched hand in blackening flames that sent a searing pain coursing through his arm. It was cold, colder than anything he had ever felt in his life, as if the fire itself absorbed all heat rather than producing it. With an agonizing scream he staggered backwards, stumbling on a pile of rubble and landing roughly on his back, clutching desperately at his hand, trying in vain to mentally will away the excruciating pain that overwhelmed his senses. This was going to be the end for him. He was going to die in an alley at the hands of some thief, and his body refused to give him the relief of passing out before it happened.
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