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| − | [ST] The ring of steel on steel echoes around the training room of the Tomb. Fervent John pursues Jonah the Lad across the length of the chamber, bruising the slight man with blow after blow, laughing all the while. Jek is at one end of the chamber, hesitantly testing a sword with his remaining hand. Carrion Crow and Elk are engaged in a rather spirited bout of wrestling that the latter seems to be losing badly. And Ragged Red, a bandanna tied around her missing eye, is laughing as she chases Obligatory Sunshine back in a flash of steel.
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| − | [ST] "You're too slow, puppy," she jeers. "Gonna get your tail clipped."
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine tries to frown austerely at her, but his lip trembles a little. "I welcome the chance to improve my defensive skills," he says, with slight emphasis on 'defensive.'
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| − | [ST] "Can't defend the other guy to death," Red says, and strikes him, sharply, on the wrist, the ankle, the temple. "You have to hurt them."
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| − | [Obligatory] "No," Obligatory says, flinching away from her flashing blade. "I don't." A pause. "And neither do you," he adds belatedly. Missionizing was the duty of the Quiet, but he didn't see fertile soil in Ragged Red.
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| − | [ST] "I don't HAVE to," she agrees, kicking him in the thigh almost jovially. "I just WANT to."
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory wishes he had something to say to that, as he reels away from the blow. His leg is mottled with blue bruises. Father Swan had said that no one was so wicked that gentleness and virtue could not reach them, but Ragged Red seemed determined to prove him wrong.
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| − | [Obligatory] "Then ....then you will never know joy or serenity," he rejoins lamely. He smiles happily as he parries two blows in succession- at last! - a smile that dies as he realizes it was a trap. His blade goes flying.
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| − | [ST] Red trips him almost perfunctorily and plops her narrow, bony backside directly down on his gut. She sits there a while, laughing, periodically slapping his face. "Oh, puppy, if we weren't comrades now, I'd tickle the kindness right out of you with the tip of my knife. But we are comrades, so I've just got to teach you to be rid of it."
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine sets his teeth mulishly. "Miruna tried and failed. Maybe you're not changing me. Maybe I'm changing YOU." That sounded well enough, but even to his own ears, he sounds half a child when he complains, "And I have a name."
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| − | [ST] "Of course you do," she says laconically, slapping him in the face again. "It's puppy, puppy."
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine shuts his eyes and cultivates serenity. It was harder than he ever would have believed, in the Quiet ghetto, to swallow her taunts. "My name is Obligatory Sunshine," he says at last, slowly and clearly.
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| − | [ST] "After a few minutes alone, your name would be whatever I wanted it to," Red says, thumping him on the forehead.
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| − | [ST] "If you keep hitting him like that, you're going to give him a nosebleed," Morta says ambivalently. She has appeared over Red's shoulder. "Soldas wants to see him, anyway."
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| − | [ST] "Soldas can go suck a poxy whore," Red offers, grabbing a handful of Obligatory's hair and twisting.
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| − | [Obligatory] He winces and yanked himself away with more force, and less grace, than his mother would have approved. "I...I will attend to him at once," Obligatory says.
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| − | [ST] "Yeah, yeah," Red says, lifting herself off Obligatory with a grunt. "Learn to fight while you're at it. Oh, and tell Iscal -" She smiles. "No, don't tell him anything."
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| − | [Obligatory] "Iscal?" He looks confused, remembering the physician. He'd been berated as if he'd INTENDED to get frostbite. He shrugs, rises gingerly to his feet, and dusts himself off- once he is sure he is out of Red's reach. "Direct me, if it would not take you out of your way," he says to Morta with a slight bow. "I do not want to keep Soldas waiting."
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| − | [ST] "Right this way," Morta says. She reaches out to take his hand, pulling him after her like a child. Her skin is very cold.
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| − | [ST] "She really beat the hell out of you."
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| − | [ST] "You're terrible."
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| − | [Obligatory] "I have channeled my energy into pursuits other than hitting people with sticks."
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| − | [ST] "My father always said you should live what you know." Morta ushers him down echoing halls towards Soldas's office. "A mule kicked his head in," she adds after a moment, as if in afterthought. "Go in."
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| − | [Obligatory] "And Red is..." he rubs the back of his neck, stopping before he said something that would reflect poorly on his upbringing. "Red has her own special character." He blots up blood coming from his nostrils with the back of his hand.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory claps his hands politley outside the door. When there is no answer, he knocks. It still seemed a barbarous custom, savoring of violence.
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| − | [ST] "Come in," Soldas says tightly.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine slides in, blinking his eyes. "You called me here, sir. I anticipate our conversation with eagerness."
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| − | [ST] Soldas looks up from behind his desk, his eyes sunken and hollow. He is alone, for once, Iscal off on some other errand. Soldas blinks at the newcomer, once, twice. "When did you join this scale again?" he asks, rubbing at his eyes. He looks nearly as sickly and pale as Morta.
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| − | [Obligatory] "Uh....Just last week. Technically." The tatoo was still under a bandage in the center of his chest. "Just finished my Last Rites."
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| − | [ST] "Last Rites, yes..." Soldas rubs at his own chest for a moment. "Seem a barbaric custom to me. I'm glad I didn't-" He suddenly stops, coughing. "In any case, Obligatory Snowshine, you have been... selected by a higher authority for an important mission."
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| − | [Obligatory] Recognition for the superior methods of the Quiet? Already?
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| − | [Obligatory] "Yes, sir," he says serenly.
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| − | [ST] "There are-" He pauses, looking at the young man with a strange expression. "Two women. They are in the employ of a certain Dragonblooded mistress, and have recently bought passage on an air boat. The... Ears of the North have had difficulty infiltrating Ralinona's network, but have heard disturbing things about her machinations. She may be aiding the enemies of the League, particularly in this war we seem to have thrust upon us."
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| − | [ST] "We want you to follow them. Observe them, wherever you may go. You will not go as a member of the Once Dead, but you will be acting for them. It is believed that your... unique bearing will be an asset in this case."
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| − | [ST] He frowns. "Unique bearing?" He seems to mull it over for a moment before shrugging.
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| − | [ST] "You will be alone on this mission. The airboat, Honor, leaves this afternoon, so you will need to move quickly. Any questions?"
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| − | [Obligatory] "Oh," Obligatory Sunshine says blankly. Perhaps they meant they didn't want a thug. "What do the women look like? What do I do if they notice me?"
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| − | [ST] Soldas digs at his eyes. "A good question," he admits grudingly. "One of them is said to be blind, of Realm bearing and descent. The other is a Haslanti, who wears a veil. If they notice you, pretend to be merely one of... your people. On a journey. A pilgrimage. Whatever... your people do."
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| − | [ST] "Their names are Blind Lily and Fetching Peach."
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| − | [Obligatory] "If I find out that the Dragonblooded is feeding information to Haslanti enemies, will the women be hurt?"
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine watches Soldas's eyes closely, to see if they lie.
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| − | [ST] "They shouldn't be. The Ears want to use this conduit of information, not destroy it."
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| − | [Obligatory] He couldn't tell. It didn't matter. He had faith; it was enough.
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| − | [ST] "Very well. Do not fail us." Soldas can't make this sound as threatening as he would probably like. "Dismissed."
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| − | | |
| − | ----
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| − | [ST] Icehome buzzes with the news and threat of war. The streets swell with refugees from the Emeralds and the Outwall tribes, whispering of hidden troop movements. The militia moves through the streets, arresting suspicious characters, twisting arms, breaking up the numerous duels of honor that break out in brief, violent eruptions.
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| − | [ST] With so many new marks in the city, the pickpockets are having a field day. So are the fencers, the crooks, and the brothels. There is money to be made. Winter Fish's organization serves to make a rich profit as well.
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| − | [ST] However, there is no time for him to attend to such lucrative ventures. He's been on duty in the Tomb with the others, working furiously to train for war. He's there when the messenger boy finds him and presses a note into his hand.
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| − | [Fish] "Ah, pass it here, lad," he feigns disinterest. Few thought him worth enough to send a note. And a man from his group would know better than to do this. So who?
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| − | [ST] Winter Fish-
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| − | [ST] You owe me a favor. Come pick it up.
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| − | [ST] N.R.
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| − | [Fish] He scoops some minor change from hsi belt purse - not enough or so little that it would be memorable, and exchanges it for the note.
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| − | [ST] The paper is a fine silk, the ink dark and fine, the hand sure. It can only be from Nellens Ralinona.
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| − | [Fish] He grins widely, throwing a conspiratorial wink to the nearest Once Dead. "Whore wants more of my money." Close enough to the truth, and the only explanation for that kind of paper. He whistled to himself and walked out the front door - no point sneaking about just yet. Worst that'd come down would be some nights cleaning the latrines, and hell, that was to be expected of him anyway.
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| − | [Fish] He starts off to a different whorehouse though - pity Madame Pearl's had burned down, now there was less credible competition for Ralinona. After a few streets checking to make sure no one was following - excess paranoia always a useful thing - he turned west to the meeting.
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| − | [ST] The Seven Sighs of the Dragons has attracted quite a crowd. Outsiders stand and stare, even in the cold. A few of the more daring approach, boasting that they will show this house of perfumed maidens a real man. Most of these are turned away at the door. At least, this is a crowd more lively than the refugees who have gathered all along the arcades of the winter streets.
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| − | [ST] The door guard only nods at Fish, ushering him within with a terse, "Go up. You know where she's waiting." A good sign, or a bad one?
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| − | [Fish] He smiled as vapid a smile as he could, sturggling against a frown - she either trusted her door guard far more than most, or cared little for him. He does as the woman says.
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| − | [ST] The balcony where Ralinona takes her visitors is now covered by drifts of snow. It must be periodically cleared away, but it's still calf-high, sodden, and miserable to walk through. Nellens Ralinona waits, finger to chin, attired in only the thinnest of robes. A quirk or a vice of hers, it seems.
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| − | [ST] She nods slowly, gesturing to a snow-covered bench.
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| − | [Fish] Well, he'd spent enough time out on iceship decks. He knew how long he could take it - how long before he'd show it, and how long before he'd be in danger. Course, he didn't know how long she wanted to drag this out. It would probably amuse her. He gives her a deep nod of the head and does as the woman says.
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| − | [Fish] "I got your note."
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| − | [ST] "So you did. You arrived... promptly." She raises an eyebrow. "Miss me?"
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| − | [Fish] He laughs softly. "This house is always kind to me. You said I had something to retrieve as a favor to you?" The phrasing had struck him as slightly odd. He wondered how troublesome this was going to be.
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| − | [ST] "You get straight to business," this beautiful creature says, with a smile that would shatter a man's heart, or will. "I respect that. Very well, I'll get to the point."
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| − | [Fish] Perhaps she preferred meeting him in the cold to protect him from her boiling his brains. As always meeting her, his muscles and the rest of him was tense.
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| − | [ST] "A pair of my girls are going to Ironfall. Blind Lily and Fetching Peach. They have a meeting there. You don't need to know who it is with. You don't need to know why. What you do need to know is that they are getting on the airboat Honor this afternoon. You will be on that airboat, for some other purpose. You will be watching them. You will continue to watch them until they reach their destination."
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| − | [ST] "And when they reach that destination, they will dismiss you, and I will reward you. You will pretend not to know them. And before you ask, I am not so foolish as to entrust their protection to you alone. You are insurance. A little something unexpected."
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| − | [ST] She leans back, giving a mock theatrical puff of air. It doesn't make any mist.
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| − | [Fish] He nods, accepting the task. He'd told her he wouldn't be muscle, but this had a bit more dignity to it. Enough that he wouldn't make waves. "Do you expect trouble? Is there something in specific I should be watching for?"
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| − | [ST] She looks at him for a moment, weighing him with her bottomless blue eyes. "Trouble? No, nothing for certain. Let us just say that certain elements have been watching me closely. Have infiltrated my organization, perhaps. I think it wise to have an... unexpected element in place in case my usual... muscle proves insufficient or disloyal."
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| − | [Fish] Someone else, that might have been chance. Her, she either remembered, or was reading his mind - legends said she could no matter how little he believed them. Or both. She was probably enjoying taunting him, not that that made him any happier with it. So he smiled, "always need someone with a mind to oversee the simple muscle."
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| − | [Fish] Who was she to be teasing him when by her own admission she wasn't in full control of her organization. Hell, if she was worried about that, he had to be worried that he would become known to wider circles than would be healthy. He'd rather expected her to run a murderously tight ship. Too late to change things now, though, and he was done adding to his regrets.
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| − | [ST] "Indeed. If they do your job, this should be nothing but a pleasure cruise for you." She shrugs. Snowflakes gather in her hair. "As much as one of those bumpy airboats can be said to be pleasant. But you have the look of a sailing man yourself. Something about your bearing."
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| − | [Fish] He lets the comment pass without a reply. He was an old fisherman himself, and knew when others were fishing for information. "How has Fetching Peach fared with her burns?" Would I still recognize her?
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| − | [ST] "As well as one might expect." Nellens Ralinona says, with another shrug. Her robe reveals a pale, icy shoulder. "They will never heal, but still she lives. Mortals are curiously fragile creatures, yet resilient in their own way. Nellens knows this more than most Noble Houses."
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| − | [Fish] He nods. "If that is all you wish of me, then I will take my leave." He said it half questioningly, a tease of his own. He wouldn't bother debating payment - chances were she would just lessen the reward she had in mind in the first place. Needed a different hand than most, she did.
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| − | [ST] "Very well. You are dismissed. You know the way out. No time for you to tarry, I'm afraid. The airboat will be leaving sooner than you think."
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| − | [Fish] He raises an eyebrow. "I'd thought to maintain appearances here for a while." He sighs with genuine regret. "Do you have some cheap perfume lying around? I should at least smell the part when I get back."
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| − | [ST] "I don't have cheap -anything- lying around," Nellens Ralinona says primly, a hint of a smile on her face. "But I'm sure you could ask the women."
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| − | [Fish] "Now theres a thing to allay suspicion." Well, no need for the girls to notice his 'asking.' He gives her a deep nod again, and departs.
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| − | -----
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| − | [ST] On the airfield outside Icehome proper, the Honor is taking on crew and supplies. It's a first-class airboat, one of the larger models used for troop transport, passenger service, and cargo hauling. Warmly-dressed sailors move about on deck, lashing down the gliders, stabilizing the ballistae, preparing the sails. The captain, a heavyset older woman with a long gray braid, shouts orders. A shaman marches around the vessel, shaking a fetish, saying prayers to Snowshoe Hare so that the vessel might have a bountiful passage. From time to time, the ship's little god darts around the perimeter of the vessel in a translucent streak, dancing its pleasure.
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| − | [ST] A bored-looking sailor with a heavily scarred lip is taking payment as passengers file on.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory reaches into his skimpy pouch and carefully counts out coins. His poverty wasn't even feigned; almost everything he got went to his family, and he'd only gotten a week's pay so far. Not nearly enough.
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| − | [ST] A pair of women move across the muddy field, of a height with each other. Both are swaddled in traveling furs. They are unmistakeable. One wears a veil over her lower face, the other a blue linen strip over her eyes. THe veiled one guides the other, but only lightly. Behind them marches a broad shouldered man, his hand on the head of the axe he keeps in his belt.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory glances at them but doesn't show much overt curiosity. There would be time for that later. He supposed the Dragonblooded used a blind woman and a disfigured one because they were more dependent- and more loyal, to the Dragonblooded's mind.
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| − | [Obligatory] He bobs his head to the man collecting money and lowers his eyes as he carefully files past with the others.
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| − | [ST] A porter comes up to Obligatory, a boy stumping along busily on a wooden leg. "Got any baggage, si-" His eyes seem to take in Obligatory's clothing, his stance, something about his manner. "Never mind." He stumps on past to a pair of richly attired Greenfielders behind Obligatory. "Any baggage?"
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory barely even notices, hefting his bag to his shoulder and ascending the gangplank.
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| − | [ST] "I can take that, brother." The voice comes from over Obligatory's shoulder as he reaches the deck. A woman stands there, his age or a little older, her drab wools and her slicked back hair marking her as one of the People.
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| − | [Obligatory] "Sister," Obligatory greets her with relief. He feels a wash of shame at accepting the familiar title as one of the excommunicated- but he was undercover and sought to prevent bloodshed. That made it alright, surely? "You have your own burdens to carry, I am sure." He lowers his eyes briefly in a sign of respect. "But I am glad to greet one of the People."
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| − | [ST] "No more than I can bear," she answers, reaching forward to pat his shoulder. "And your burdens are mine, in spirit and in duty." Before he can protest, she lifts the baggage from his shoulder, swaying slightly.
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| − | [ST] "PRU!" a voice rings out over the deck. "STOP CHATTING WITH EVERY LIMP DICK THAT GETS ON HERE AND SEE TO YOUR WORK BEFORE YOU GET STRIPED AGAIN!" The first mate, a balding man with one bad eye, shakes a club meaningfully.
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| − | [ST] "My apologies brother," the woman says, bowing hurriedly. "You will find refreshment below." She fairly scurries away.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine looks after her for a moment. Some of the Quiet must serve; in that way they made themselves acceptable to the Haslanti who would otherwise drive them into the cold. Regretfully, he makes his way below, resolving to save some of his food for her. She didn't look like she got much.
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| − | [Fish] Fish stalks to the boarding ramp, forcefully inserting himself into the line, scowling as dark as the raven on his cheek. He didn't want people wanting to talk to him on this cruise.
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| − | [Fish] He'd taken a moment to write up a letter - no one would believe visiting a sick relative, not for him, or an inheritance. They'd look askance, wondering what relative would still talk to him. Rather, a friend had written to him about a woman - finding the whore who'd run off with his son a few years back. That they'd believe of him, and stay away all the more once he got creatively drunk and ranted through an evening about it.
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| − | [ST] Obligatory arrives belowdecks first, following the sound of voices to a large (for the size of the ship) common room, full of laughing voices and a number of people. Tribesmen have already staked out one corner, where they sit jostling a singer and demanding he sing another. The young man, rather more Greenfield than Outwall by the look of him, is sweating powerfully. A massive woman with a trio of children, two girls and a boy, sits at a table laboriously working them through the words on a piece of parchment. A sharp eyed man with a hawk nose sits smiling and rolling a pair of dice on the table before him. A group of what look to be seal merchants from Cherak press their heads together over a small table. A young richly dressed man is drinking and laughing far too loudly.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine looks thoughtfully at the crowd, then sits carefully at an empty table in the corner. He takes of a hunk of bread from his pocket and chews on it. He wondered where the women went; he supposed he should have stayed on deck to watch for which was their cabin, but he hadn't thought of it. Spying was still new to him. Anyway, the sister would know.
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| − | [Obligatory] He doesn't ever relax. At any moment, he could be forced to vacate his seat.
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| − | [Fish] Once he makes the deck, he glances around, wondering if the women had arrived yet. They hadn't, or were below. EIther way, he shouldn't go looking for them. He spotted a dice game, though, and that was good excuse to stay on deck and keep an eye out. He smiled - good way to earn some petty cash, too, or get caught cheating, worthwhile in its own way for his mask.
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| − | [ST] Fish has barely gotten through half a game before he sees them out of the corner of his eye. Blind Lily is as unmistakable as ever, and Fetching Peach stands out in a crowd, too. The man behind them is also unsubtle. If Ralinona is trying to do this in secrecy, her agents aren't doing a very good job of it.
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| − | [ST] The women talk to each other, laughing, and hurriedly scurry below out of the chilling cold. A few moments later, Obligatory spots them. They enter the common room and seat themselves at a table near the wall, too far for him to make out anything but their gestures. In the mean time, the children have started to cry, and the young man is even more drunk.
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| − | [Fish] He keeps dicing. If they remembered him, they remembered him, but he wasn't going to try to play on their last meeting.
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| − | [Fish] He probably couldn't keep an eye on the the entire voyage - not without it being obvious. Nights were probably when he needed to be most careful, that and near the end, where the guardsman might act if he were a traitor.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory leaves this table and goes to the children, pulling a red feather out of his pocket, tickling noses, and miming injuries until they start to giggle. The end of screaming children adds considerably to the peace of the room, and he realizes that he's now considerably closer to the women. He congratulates himself on his guile.
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| − | [ST] "He's a funny man, grandmother," the girl says. Her strangely accented speech is not Haslanti. The older woman gives Obligatory a flat look as he works. "Yes," she agrees, with none of the coldness many of the Haslanti would have. "A funny man indeed."
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| − | [ST] At the table behind them, Fetching Peach leans forward as if giving jest, placing a hand on the blind woman's arm. She obligingly laughs.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory tenative smile turns a little warmer. "Where are you from?"
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| − | [ST] As Fish gets colder on deck, the sailors prepare to cast off. One who had joined the game is roused with a swat from the first mate's club, but the man only glares at the others gathered there. "In the old days, I'd throw the lot of you off the side," he snaps. "But that was when we was running a blue water ship, afore the Cap'n got to hiring kneelers and beggars and-" he coughs, spitting a wad of phlegm rather too close to the game on deck to be an accident. "Payin' customers. Watch how you act."
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| − | [ST] The woman has shoulders easily a yard across, and multiple chins, though her bearing is regal and refined. If nothing else, her bulk would mark her as a foreigner. She smiles at Obligatory thinly, showing him a ring on her gloved finger. It doesn't make any sense to him. "I am Scavenger Lady Amelia, of the Savros Line, a most prestigious name within the Scavenger Lands. I am taking these children to be with their father, my son, in Crystal."
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| − | [ST] "Now, might I inquire about YOUR business?"
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| − | [Obligatory] "I am honored to meet you, Lady Amelia." He bows, awkward from his position sitting with the children. "I am visiting kin. It is time to share stories, that the People may know one another."
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| − | [ST] "The People?" She raises an eyebrow. "Is that what you Haslanti call yourselves? We are only recently arrived by sea. We know little about you, save the stories we've heard, and rumors of a brewing war."
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| − | [Fish] He grins happinly up at the man. "Your sailors, your problem. If this deck is too pure for dice, ain't got much business having most of this crew on it." The mate was not the person he wanted to get into a fight with while they were moored, but he could look like he was backing down either.
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| − | [ST] The man reddens. "I'm the first mate," he snaps. "My problems'll become yours really fast. I don't like the look of you. Maybe I don't want you on my ship."
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| − | [Obligatory] "No; I refer to the Quiet." He glances a bit nervously at the nearest table. A drunken Haslanti trader might take it in his head head to find offense. "We live many places in the North. We are a peaceful people," he makes the sign of harmony, "and it makes us unpopular here. If you would honor this unworthy one by accepting advice...."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] She laughs shortly. "We have a saying in the Scavenger Lands - take everything that isn't nailed down. Including advice." She holds up a finger in warning. "In all fairness, I do not promise to treasure it."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] The children laugh along as well, though it is clear they don't understand the jest.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] He glances back over his shoulder cautiously, then leans forward. "Avoid the greenfish here. It is an innocent animal, but the Haslanti do barbarous thing to it. All but pickle it in poison." He thinks a moment. "And respect their gods; the People remember when Snowshoe Hare was worshipped only in mud shrines, but the Haslanti take them all very seriously."
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| − | [ST] She only nods. "The greenfish, you say? Northern cuisine brings fresh horrors with each port, it seems. As for the gods, we treat them as all folk should, with respect when we must, and with caution at all times. But thank you for the advice, though I fear you give it too freely, young man."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] Over her shoulder, Fetching Peach rises. When the man tries to follow her, she waves him off. She swishes past Obligatory's table in a cloud of fragrant perfume. He catches only the briefest glimpse of her brown eyes, of her veil, before she is gone.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "What is given in this world, is given back. So my people believe."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What is given is gladly taken, and rarely returned, or so my people believe." She laughs again. "But sincerity is a virtue we so rarely see. You are an amusing one."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] Over her shoulder, Fetching Peach rises. When the man tries to follow her, she waves him off. She moves past Obligatory's table in a cloud of fragrant perfume. He catches only the briefest glimpse of her brown eyes, of her veil, before she is gone.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "What is given in this world, is given back. So my people believe."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What is given is gladly taken, and rarely returned, or so my people believe." She laughs again. "But sincerity is a virtue we so rarely see. You are an amusing one."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] As Fetching Peach moves out of the way, Obligatory sees Pru, the Quiet girl, stop by the table with the merchants from Cherak. She is shaking her head urgently. One of the men has reached out to grab her by the wrist.
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| − | [Fish] He stands up nice and slow, letting the grin harden slightly. Nothing for it but to make him back down. Not that that would make life easier once they were under way. But maybe it'd earn him some favor with the crew.
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| − | [Fish] "I'm sitting here, happy like, nopt harming anything. You lot like to treat passangers like this after they pay good money?" He scratches at his cheek - at the raven.
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| − | [Fish] The other hand was at his belt, near the hilt of the chisel that marked him as an ice fisherman.
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| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine rises. "Please excuse me," he says with a polite nod to Lady Amelia. He drifts silently over to the merchants. He taps the one holding his sister on his shoulder. He bows politely. "I fear she has duties she must attend to. May this one assist you?"
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Money only goes so far, stranger," the mate says, leaning back against the mast nearby. "Respect's worth a good deal more. What are you, that you don't understand that? Not a Greenfielder, by the look of that scar, or the tool at your belt." He coughs again, phlegmy and wet. Must be chronic. "What Cap'n taught you that talking to a First Mate like this on his own deck was a good idea?"
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] The merchant's glance is flat and murderous. "I will fucking kill you," he says in a monotone, looking at Obligatory Sunshine like he is some vile insect.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man across the table from him, younger and fair of face, opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Pru interjects.
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| − | [ST] "B-brother, I will be with you in a moment. Please."
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory Sunshine meets her eyes.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Brother?" the man twists her wrist slightly. Her eyes contract in pain, but she nods urgently at Obligatory, urging him away.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] Obligatory is aware that all eyes in the room are gradually swiveling towards the conflict. On the deck above him, Winter Fish receives the same realization.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "All men and women are brothers and sisters," Obligatory intones. "Among the People, our duties and our burdens are as one." He hesitates, glancing at her. He couldn't force his help on her; respect was the Second Virtuous Sentiment. Though compassion was the first, his mind needles him as he reluctantly withdraws. He doesn't go far, sitting in a chair not far away and sitting with a certain stiffness that spoke of a willingness to leap to his feet, if there should be need.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] The woman watches him go, then turns back to the men. The younger one pats her on the elbow briefly. She talks with them for a moment more, then withdraws across the room in a bustle of long, drab skirts.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Whore, maybe," a voice says behind Obligatory. The young man who was drinking earlier lowers himself into a chair, running a finger through his curls. "Never *hic* saw one that dressed like that, though."
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| − | [Obligatory] "She is not a whore," Obligatory says curtly. "You shame yourself."
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| − | [Fish] The sailors'd probably like to see the Mate taken down a peg. No way they'd wouldn't take his side in a fight. Besides, he coudln't start that here without getting thrown off the ship. If this was a Once Dead mission, well a mission that wasn't that important, he'd start it anyway - a fistfight so he'd likely survive - and let himself get yelled at by Ironheart afterwards. Ralinona was a different sort of bitch altogeth
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] Ralinona was a different sort of bitch altogether.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "How d'you know?" the man scowls, slamming down a tankard of ale.
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] "Respect's great, all around. Give and ye shall recieve. Where did you learn to start things with Once Dead?" He grins wider suddenly. "Got balls on you - what say I spot you a stack here, or save you a spot once you get off duty." He doubted the man had anything against gambling - when his men weren't fucking off while they were meant to be bringing the ship to launch, and when there weren't a pack of passengers block blocking deckspace.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The Once Dead?" The man takes a second look at the tattoo on Fish's face. Fish can actually watch the color drain from his face, but the man's voice sounds blusterous enough a moment later when he says. "Couldn't recognize it. You can spot me a stack later, but clear out for now, we're about to be off as soon as we get our last two passengers." He turns away, grumbling. "Cap'n Caraway never would've waited for passengers in the ol' days..."
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] "Ah, yeah, wouldn't want to trip someone running to cut a line." He scoops his stack, eyeing it quickly to make sure no one had pilfered from it. He gave the Mate a nod, then sauntered off belowdecks. Good enough excuse to find whatever room the whores were in.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Where are those passengers anyway?" He demands loudly as Fish heads below. Meanwhile, the drunken young man continues to stare across the table at Obligatory, plucking at his sleeve.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "What?" Obligatory asks as he watches over Pru- almost certainly Prduence. The snap is unlike him, and he is instantly ashamed, "That is, what can I help you with, sir?"
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Hep... me with?" The man shrugs. "Dunno. Bored." He belches softly. "Why you on this tub, anyway? That," he inclines his head. "Whore?"
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] Obligatory takes a deep breath. Somehow, this man was twice as provoking as Miruna. "She is not a whore," he corrects the man gently again. "I am visiting kin. She is one of them." He forgets himself enough to glare at the drunk before slipping into serenity again. "If there is nothing, I will go see her." He rises and inclines his head.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Hey, I'm not done with you," the young man begins, rising. A palm settles on his shoulder. An older man, dressed in formally cut clothes beneath his furs, presses the young man gently into his seat again.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Please," the man says. "Excuse Master Hector. He has overindulged in his excitement."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Excitement?" Hector barks. "Let's see how excited you'd be if YOU were going to marry that *hic* cow, Jens." The older man does not reply.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "It is nothing," Obligatory Sunshine says respectfully, bowing. "Please excuse me, masters."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Hey-" Hector begins, but he's quickly lead away by the older man.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] He walks unhurriedly to find her across the room. Impatience or hurry now would be unseemly.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] She has moved away from the merchants and is wiping down the empty tables with a dirty cloth. It is unclear whether this is actually helping. She casts the occasional glance behind her.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] "Sister? May I assist you?"
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Assist me with what, Brother?" She leans over the table, wiping firmly. "This task is my own. You would only draw ire on both of us if you tried to help."
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] He hesitates, looking at her carefully. "Forgive me sister, but it seemed to me the merchants were behaving ...boorishly to you." He smiles. "As you yourself said, echoing our forefathers, 'your burdens are mine, in spirit and in duty.' If there is a task, it is surely mine as well."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "They are only men," she says softly. "And not of your virtue. But they spoke as men and were chastised, and now all is well." She reaches out to place her hand over his own. "You need not trouble yourself further, brother."
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] He graps her hand lightly for a moment. "Very well," he says seriously. "But remember the tale of the greedy saint, and do not hesitate to call on me at need. I have a small store of coins, and two may avoid harm more easily than one."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] Her eyes crinkle, and she smiles at him. "Thank you, brother. I hope you find your kin to be well. Now, I need to get back to work, or the cook will wear out his throat out shouting at me again." She moves away in a swish of skirts.
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| − | | |
| − | [Obligatory] He looks wistfully after her, then returns to the tables. He hadn't forgotten he was supposed to be keeping on Fetching Peach and Blind LIly.
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