Recoup

[Chrishton Radu]

Rubbing his foot, Chrishton watched Kamar go back into the building and started wondering if they had been ditched or, worse, betrayed. The spirits did nothing to alleviate his worries. When they noticed what he was thinking, they started making the matter worse by pretending that Kamar was in there collaborating with the captain. That made Chrishton think a bit, but, not entirely convinced, he was not the type of person to start worrying. He could always leave Dorcas behind and run.

When Kamar returned from the window Chrishton understood almost immediately. He grinned and literally put his foot down. It wasn't bleeding much.

"I hope we shant be igspectin' such obstacles on ivery city block on th'way? Or am I t'be mistaken?"

"Spice o'life, girly. Whats a walk home without a bit'a adventure?"

He followed after her, staring at the cat. He liked the creature, though he wasn't about to share that information with anyone. Least of all the cat itself.

[Kamar Deythal]

Kamar smirked at the looks received from the other two, but didn't say anything as he fell into step behind them. It was no use pretending with another accent in front of the two of them, but he'd slip back into it again when there were other people around. It would be a little strange to have one well-spoken person having a drink with two people who were not as.

Kamar allowed his eyes to roam again, constantly keeping an eye back towards where he could only presume the Captain had gone. Now was not the time for another run in with him. Perhaps later, after this whole deal with Chrishton was finished. But definitely not now.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas strode forward, presumably in the proper direction to take the men to her place of board. The thought struck that she should perhaps be concerned that they were being followed, and she hardly slowed her step when she looked back to find that Kamar was already watching their rear. The cat in her arms poked his head over her shoulder to keep watch, as if he provided a glowing pair of eyes in the back of Dorcas's head. The cat's yellow gaze fell on Chrishton, and he gave one deep, shuddering cough, possibly ruminating on a hairball.

"Are we pukey, then?" Dorcas said idly to her pet, and then cast a glance to Chrishton. "Ye'll be watchin' yer step for the dirt an' dung in th' street. I suppose ye c'n wash yer foot off in the pub', but best not to cram more filth in there in the firs' place."

They were on a main public street at this point, but the twilight had set upon the city solidly enough that even spaces wider than the alleys were too dim for dallying. Dorcas picked up her step, with an exasperated command for the others to do the same. "Jus' another two blocks an' a half . . ."

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton raised an eyebrow at the cat and listened to Dorcas talk. He checked his foot out while walking, pretending that it didn't hurt and that walking on a dirt road barefoot wasn't one of the most unpleasant things ever to begin with. He wasn't too concerned about infections. There were plenty of ways to deal with that kind of thing, his favorite one being alcohol.

"Bah, it'll be fine. I've had plenty worse."

He put his foot down in such a way that when he walked it wasn't putting pressure on the wound and hobbled after her that way.

"I hope one a ya's got some money or somehin', cause I obviously don't an' I need a fuckin' drink real bad. Maybe a good wh... er... wench." He fumbled his words, realizing that talking that way might not go over so well with his new hostess.

[Kamar Deythal]

Kamar continued along behind, content to let the other two lead as he watched their backtrail. At the mention of money, Kamar caught Chrishton's eye and nodded, patting a small pouch at his hip.

He was currently thinking of retrieving his Shadow knife, which was still in the alley where he had been knocked unconscious. He was going through a mental map of the city, and trying to decide how close he was and if they could afford a detour towards it. He wasn't exactly worried about someone picking it up, since it was in the shadows and well hidden. The knife vanished when covered in shadows, and it was often to an assassin's advantage to appear completely unarmed.

Kamar took two quick steps to almost catch up with his partners in front of him. "Where exactly are we going, and how soon will we get there?"

A glance over his shoulder told him that the road was still clear.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas stopped at the next minor intersection and looked plainly at Kamar. "How am I s'posed to know how long it takes ye t'walk two blocks? My educated approximation'd be maybe a minute?" She followed with with a gesture forward, indicating the closeness of pub. She picked up again, leading them to her place of work.

"Not that I said so, but there are some girls there who can be bought if you play yer hand right. And not that I said so, but they can be bought for significantly less than a diamond ring if ye get wot I'm insinuatin'."

Presently, Dorcas arrived at a small set of wooden steps. They lead up to a slightly undersized doorway that was set in a wall of bloated wooden planks, part of an apparent extension built onto the alley side of an older brick building. The extension was the size of a small cabin for one, and windowless except for a panel of oiled paper set into the slanted plank roof. Voices leaked out the imperfect edges of the door.

Dorcas turned the handle of the door, and it swung open into the room on tilted hinges. The light inside came from kerosene lanterns, one hung on each wall. A narrow wet bar staffed by a very young man constituted the space along the right wall of the room, and three tiny tables with like-sized chairs, the appropriate size for a 10-year-old child or a slight old woman sat against the opposite wall. The back wall of the room was brick and half-obliterated. The seam between this extension and its host-building was rough, framed by crumbled bricks and hung with a heavy sackcloth curtain that was currently tied back to allow access to the gaping hole.

Disappearing into the dark mouth were two sets of rickety stairs, one leading up, and the other sharply downward.

Dorcas just barely cleared the doorway without needing to duck. She pressed her lips together in a straight line and firmed up her chin in her version of a smile. "This is where I work," she announced.

[Chrishton Radu]

"How am I s'posed to know how long it takes ye t'walk two blocks? My educated approximation'd be maybe a minute?"

Chrishton made a goofy face at Kamar and then laughed a bit, mocking him for Dorcas' retort maliciously. Not once did he appear to be serious about things.

Dorcas continued talking and he raised his eyebrows. He didn't expect that kind of remark from the girl. For some reason he maintained the impression that she was sheltered and not nearly as tough as she put on, but she continued to outmaneuver his expectations.

"Good, 'cause the last one I gave a ring ta didna go so great."

Only the spirits caught the morbidity of his joke. Most of them didn't laugh. The one that did felt out of place and quieted up immediately. Chrishton was more focused on his injured foot than them.

Chrishton muscled his way behind Dorcas before Kamar could get a chance to move closer, and stuck his head into the place to check it out. He looked at the young man staffing the bar and grinned honestly. "Oy! Ale! or whate'er ya got. Outta the way girly..." He tried to get past her in a hurry, jokingly trying to shoulder her out of the way.

[Kamar Deythal]

Kamar shrugged at Dorcas' reply, not mentioning that no one had said which bar they were headed towards. It seemed typical of the impression he had gotten of the surly young woman so far. At least she wasn't being petulant... yet.

Kamar followed the two to the doorway, then stopped. Before they could get too far inside, Kamar reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the one closest to him. This happened to be Dorcas, as Chrishton was already in the process of forcing his way by her, no matter how jokingly.

"I need to go retrieve something I lost in the street. I should be back within the hour."

Hardly waiting for a response, he turned and headed off.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas looked over her shoulder as Kamar dashed off rather unexpectedly. She gave a glance to the darkened sky visible outside before pulling the poorly-set door shut. The boy at the bar was watching the door too, and then passed smiling eyes quickly over Dorcas to meet Chrishton's.

"Evening, friend," the young man said with what approximated warmth in back-alley taverns. "We have a strong ale and also a lager. And spirits, that I can help you with too." He seemed unusually articulate. "Anything else you're looking for, I'm sure we three can discuss over drinks." The young man pushed a squat mug forward on the counter from which rose a curl of steam. "You found Big Boy," he said to Dorcas with a small smile.

Dorcas put the cat down at her feet, and the beast ran past the dusty curtain at the back of the room, disappearing into the dark. "An' this one," she said airily, motioning to Chrishton with the back of her wrist. "An' the littler guy you saw run off jes' now, fine by me, matter 'f fact." She crossed over to the boy and put her forearms on the bar and her hands around the hot mug.

As she lost her gaze in the fog issuing from her cup, the boy stared at her for a moment with what may have been concern before turning that look on Chrishton. His eyes traveled over the big man once, and he blinked at the sight of his bare feet. His look of concern broke into a smile. "Perhaps a hot drink for my good sir?" He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton paid no attention to Kamar's exit, impatiently waiting to get served once he found a suitable place to plant his ass in the cramped little place. He wasn't at all uncomfortable with the impoverished surroundings. Indeed, he seemed to fit right in with the rest of it and felt quite at home.

"Nothin' hot, kid. Ale." He brought his right ankle up to rest on his left knee so he could take a look at the still bleeding cut. "Ale, an' somethin' strong fer this."

He used his index finger to rub some of the dark brown dirt from the road that was mingling with the blood. He was still not back to his former glory after the previous night's torture session and all the bleeding he'd done in between. He needed to eat and, more importantly, needed more sleep. The room around him wobbled slowly, but he dared not show any outward signs of his situation. Instead he decided to look on the bright side, which was that getting drunk would be very easy.

"An' I'll need a room fer the night."

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas lowered her head over her mug but turned, a little startled, when she heard Chrishton sit down. "What're ye doin' gettin' settled in here?" she asked in a mumble. She wrinkled her beak-like nose and turned back to sit at her drink gingerly, her back to Chrishton.

The serving boy ducked behind the bar and rose with a dripping tankard of frothy liquid in his hand. He left the bar and approached Chrishton with a put-on air of formality. With a sweep of his free arm he indicated the sackcloth curtain at the back of the room. "What my fair lady implies, friend, I believe, is that you're invited beyond our modest foyer." He then set the tankard down on Chrishton's chosen table. A foamy ring immediately began to form at the base of the pewter vessel. "You are of course welcome to stay where you are comfortable . . . you did say you'd be staying the night with us, though?" He gave Chrishton's bleeding foot a quick appraising look and started back towards the bar.

"My name's Mydjeken, and I'll be your . . . nurse." He picked up the whiter of two rags heaped on the counter and retrieved a bowl from an incorporated cabinet. He dropped the rag in this shallow bowl and then poured steaming water from a ceramic jug on the counter on top of this. All of this he brought back to Chrishton. "I trust you shall prefer to mop off your own foot. We are not exactly a high-service inn."

"It's not an inn 'e's lookin' for," Dorcas spoke up from the bar.

Mydjeken smiled at her. "She'll probably be the one to arrange your accommodations. I will see what I can do about a dressing for your foot."

[Kamar Deythal]

Kamar trotted down the street, dodging nimbly around groups of people. It was getting late for the working crowd, and most of them were already on their way home, if not there already. There were still quite a few people on the street, however, most headed to a nightly libation before stumbling home.

Kamar slipped down an alley that would lead him to a main street, trotting through the shadows closest to the buildings. He dodged crates and small piles of garbage. The alleys in Marn weren't as bad as some of the alleys he used to frequent.

He paused at the main street, glancing behind him for anyone who might be following. Favoring speed over stealth, Kamar headed out onto the main street and continued his trek at a fast walk, just another tired worker moving quickly to get to his nightly drink after a long day. He kept to the shadows next to the buildings to reduce the risk of being seen too much by the people he was passing.

He turned down another alley, and before long, he was at the spot where he had almost had the young woman in his grasp. With luck, Moryldar would be taking care of that little problem right now. Kamar chuckled to himself as he went back down the alley, where he had dropped his Shadow Knife. He felt around the area where he had gone down, since the ability of the knife to allow it's wielder to see it fully only worked when it was actually in the hands of the wielder. Just as his hand fell on the hilt, a voice sounded behind him.

"What ya doin' there, hey?"

Kamar stood slowly and turned, looking deeper into the alley. A shadowy shape stood before him, peering down from a height several inches taller than Kamar. The man was muscular, and held a club in one hand, his arms crossed over his massive chest.

Smirking, Kamar held the knife up, which he could now see, but that the man before him wouldn't be able to. He closed his eyes a moment, shifting their view to one that would be more suited to a dark alley. The man's face appeared in his view, hard, flinty eyes glaring at Kamar for his invasion into the man's territory.

"Looking for my knife," he said, still smirking within the confines of his hood.

The man looked at Kamar's hand, then back to the hood Kamar wore over his features. The man had a confused expression on his face, but still seem disinclined to give over. "Well, no matter tha', tha fee fer trespassin' on me terrert'ry is one Bishan. Pay up, l'il man."

The thug stepped forward, holding out his left hand palm open while wielding the club threateningly in the other.

Kamar's reaction was swift. As the man stepped forward, so too did Kamar, the Shadow Knife plunging swiftly to stab into the man's outstretched left hand. The knife easily went through the hand, the tip sticking through the other side. Instead of reacting with violence, the man howled in pain and jumped back, further damaging his hand. Kamar pulled the knife out and quickly stepped into the range where the man's club swings would be ineffectual at best. The knife stopped a hair's breadth from the man's throat, just close enough to be felt. The man froze and quieted, the club falling from his hand.

"Do not threaten me, 'little man'," Kamar mocked. "This time it's just your hand. Next time it will be your heart."

Kamar stepped back into the shadows. The look of fear on the man's face made him smirk again. With a quick turn, Kamar darted out of the alley and down the street, quickly into another alley. He took many twists and turns to keep anyone from following him before arriving back at the tavern where Dorcas and Chrishton had entered. The entire journey had taken him just under an hour.

[Chrishton Radu]

What're ye doin' gettin' settled in here?

Chrishton wiggled his brow at her and leaned back, looking as comfortable as he could given the circumstances. He took the ale offered by Mydjeken and inhaled deeply over the tankard, letting its familiar aroma fill his nostrils while the younger man put on a show of formality for him. He didn't listen to any of it very attentively, having no intention of moving from his seat, come hell or high water, until he was finished his drink.

My name's Mydjeken, and I'll be your . . . nurse.

"I've had better lookin' nurses, 'n all o'em cleaned m'feet fer me. But I guess ya'll do."

With a groan and some popping joints, he leaned over and plucked the rag out of the bowl and steaming water. He slapped it onto the sole of his foot, leaned back as much as he could to place his ankle on his knee, and started rubbing away the dirt and blood.

"All I really need, son, is a place ta sleep the night 'n fer ya t'keep yer mouth shut 'bout seein' me 'ere. Do that'n I wilna haveta kill ya Mydjie." He winked at Mydjeken, but it was hard to tell if he meant it or not. A part of him did.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas shifted her mug from the counter to her lap, holding the thick vessel in both hands. She slowly pivoted on her stool to look at the men across the room. "He was there at the jail," she said over her mug.

"Well, well . . . so I could've guessed. You can judge my nursing skills by the extent of her recovery." Mydjeken indicated Dorcas with his continuous gaze as he spoke. He turned to face Chrishton fully, his own face thus obscured from Dorcas's line of sight. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "As much as you say the ladies adore your dirty bare feet, that had better be all you're baring to this one if you know what's good for you." By his lowered tone and expressionless face, it was not exactly clear whether Mydjeken was making a warning on behalf of Dorcas or a threat of his own. He moved his gaze from Chrishton too quickly for a follow-up expression to be assessed.

Dorcas gave an exaggerated sigh, giving no sign she had heard Mydjeken's comment. "I am one-hundred-percent better, no thanks to ye and all thanks t' Kenny. Now are we goin' to discuss yer sleepin' arrangements or are we goin' t'beat aroun' the bush an' pretend yer on'y here for a drink and a pallet in the corner? They're upstairs, dummy." Dorcas pursed her chapped lips, seemingly a little annoyed, but perhaps just tired.

Mydjeken raised his eyebrows and started for the curtain at the back of the room. "Right, this isn't my business then, I'll just be saying goodnight to my sister," he said, but just as he finished his sentence, Kamar's entrance stopped him in his tracks. "Ah, back again, friend." He walked to the bar in acknowledgment of Kamar's patronage. "I'm Mydjeken, call me Kenny--" with this, a pointed look at Chrishton--"and I will be happy to accommodate your stay in our pleasant party this evening."

[Kamar Deythal]

Kamar offered a small smile as he slipped the hood from his head. His features were hardly memorable, the only telltale sign was the mustache and goatee he kept for vanity's sake.

He strolled easily into the room, moving quickly to the bar. With a slight nod to acknowledge Kenny, he said, "I'll have a glass of red wine, if you please. Best you have." He offered a sly wink, then looked to Dorcas and Chrishton.

"Do we have a plan, as yet, friends?"