Iarei needn't have bothered with shaking Jester; the kick was enough to jerk her back into groggy awareness, bewildered and on the murderous side of grumpy. The hand on her shoulder shoving her to and fro wasn't helping her much with either condition, and it took a long while for Iarei's words to hit her.
Theogios damn it all, but she wanted more sleep. She could peer up at the tight worry in Iarei's face without squinting now, but that was as much due to the waning afternoon as to her fading headache. She was bleary, heavy limbed, and her entire body felt made of snot and cotton. Whatever Iarei wanted, it could wait another couple of hours. It was her turn to perform, anyway.
She glared owlishly at the other woman for a few moments after her statement, brain stubbornly refusing to reorder her words into proper sense. Waiting, while the gears started grinding slowly through it...
It hit her.
Problem. Costing us dear. Wake up, Jester. Wake up, Anise Fleming, wake up wake up wake up. There was unnecessary adrenaline thrumming through her, conjuring images of ten-foot-tall, axe-wielding thugs surrounding the inn, explosions, betrayal (she just knew that Dirky was going to be trouble), even the innkeeper throwing them out because she was not reputable enough to suit his inn. Her mind caught and held on Dirky betraying them, leaving poor Er-something in an alleyway somewhere, black liquid glinting off the tip of his wicked dagger, because she'd never trusted him from the start and he knew where they were sleeping and they needed to do something. Fast.
"What? How? Have you caught him yet?" she blurted, body trying to spring into action and tangling itself headfirst into the wall. It didn't help her headache, but she was too excited to care. Her mind never even touched the thought of the statue, still cradled in the exact place she left it, humming ever so gently as it ate its way through the spell keeping it in check
In for a Bishan
Re: In for a Bishan
"No." Iarei said, and turned away from Jester. A grim line had formed between her brows when she noticed Jester's slow reaction. Was the woman a drunkard, or a drug user? No time for those small matters, and it shouldn't bother Iarei anyways. No, but it might cause problems later if she didn't get a hook in it immediately, and Changers take any more problems than what she was already facing. She could feel the time slipping away, taking from her this sole chance at redemption. Revenge. Bards like herself claimed it for sweet pleasure, but all it had gained her so far was near death experiences. The thought of what had happened to Alter -- best to not think about it. Forget it had happened. Changers take all of it!
She was ready to explode, and Jester's sweet time was not helping the matter. While the woman sorted herself out of whatever haze she'd consumed herself into (and the woman was so morally uptight, really) Iarei focused on imagining a few solid kicks in vivid detail: one to the stomach, another to the knee perhaps, and a solid slap across the face. So hard it would make her hand tingle, and her toes would feel crimped from the force of the matter. And so what that she didn't used to imagine violence as a resort for temper? Things hadn't gone her way since she'd entered the pest ridden city, and she had no more time for games.
"Hurry up. By Theogios' balls, I've seen gnarra addicts move faster." She said, snapping her fingers. "I swear to Athena I am going to wring his neck."
She paced to the door, glowered back at Jester, sighed loudly. She did not once offer to help. Iarei did not approve of taking hits on any job, and consumption high enough to elicit the symptoms the other woman was showing went straight onto her should-be-extinct list, alongside old companions and slow gate guards. At the moment, Jester was topping that list, and somehow rising still as her anger and exasperation sang a merry tune in her head. "Take it, I'll be downstairs."
Like that, she slammed through the door at the speed of a hurricane, and was walking down the hall with her heels hitting the carpeted wood hard enough to make concussive thocks like magefire.
Thirty seconds, give or take, had passed since Jester's head had hit the wall. Twenty-five of those seconds had been too long, by Iarei's reckoning, and she took the stairs down two at a time, startling an elegantly gowned woman and her companion, only giving back a growl at the politely request that amounted to "Slow the fuck down and watch where you're going," -- only in more words and acceptable at the dinner table. A few hours earlier she would have simpered and taken the time to calm them and entertain them, hopefully earning a potential patron were she clever enough, but she was all out of tricks.
She was out of everything. It showed on her face when she careened to a stop before the Innkeeper's lobby desk, behind which sat the same bored clerk whom had greeted them on the way in. It didn't matter that another patron stood before it, or that the same patron was smiling before Iarei had uncerimoniously placed herself right next to same patron, hands slapping onto the desk to leave sweat-smeared marks. One hand even slid in front of the patron, interrupted him mid-word.
"My boy," she said in the tone of a wrathful god, "where did he go?"
It was the sort of question that demanded an answer, a real answer, because Iarei was maybe four and three quarters of a second away from bodily hurling herself over said counter for an answer. Her very presence should be enough for the clerk to have seen something. His eyes were only then widening, as if his brain could not keep up with Iarei's hurry. Apparently the world couldn't, something that she acknowledged with a cruel smirk.
Clerk's mouth opened, hung there, clicked shut when Iarei pounded the desk once with a closed fist, and was served with a frown and a single digit pointing to the doors. Yes, the doors, which were a portal to anywhere and no help whatsoever. She was about to say as much when the patron beside her gave her his own version of thunderous. "Madam--" he started, but she had turned and made a path for the doors. She heard him complain to the clerk about giving service to barbarians, but she was through the door before she could hear more. Knowing his type, he'd probably demand her immediate eviction, and her mood worsened.
She stopped outside of the door, remembering Jester, and her mental countdown started. She was all but frothing at the mouth.
Jester had one minute before Iarei left her behind.
She was ready to explode, and Jester's sweet time was not helping the matter. While the woman sorted herself out of whatever haze she'd consumed herself into (and the woman was so morally uptight, really) Iarei focused on imagining a few solid kicks in vivid detail: one to the stomach, another to the knee perhaps, and a solid slap across the face. So hard it would make her hand tingle, and her toes would feel crimped from the force of the matter. And so what that she didn't used to imagine violence as a resort for temper? Things hadn't gone her way since she'd entered the pest ridden city, and she had no more time for games.
"Hurry up. By Theogios' balls, I've seen gnarra addicts move faster." She said, snapping her fingers. "I swear to Athena I am going to wring his neck."
She paced to the door, glowered back at Jester, sighed loudly. She did not once offer to help. Iarei did not approve of taking hits on any job, and consumption high enough to elicit the symptoms the other woman was showing went straight onto her should-be-extinct list, alongside old companions and slow gate guards. At the moment, Jester was topping that list, and somehow rising still as her anger and exasperation sang a merry tune in her head. "Take it, I'll be downstairs."
Like that, she slammed through the door at the speed of a hurricane, and was walking down the hall with her heels hitting the carpeted wood hard enough to make concussive thocks like magefire.
Thirty seconds, give or take, had passed since Jester's head had hit the wall. Twenty-five of those seconds had been too long, by Iarei's reckoning, and she took the stairs down two at a time, startling an elegantly gowned woman and her companion, only giving back a growl at the politely request that amounted to "Slow the fuck down and watch where you're going," -- only in more words and acceptable at the dinner table. A few hours earlier she would have simpered and taken the time to calm them and entertain them, hopefully earning a potential patron were she clever enough, but she was all out of tricks.
She was out of everything. It showed on her face when she careened to a stop before the Innkeeper's lobby desk, behind which sat the same bored clerk whom had greeted them on the way in. It didn't matter that another patron stood before it, or that the same patron was smiling before Iarei had uncerimoniously placed herself right next to same patron, hands slapping onto the desk to leave sweat-smeared marks. One hand even slid in front of the patron, interrupted him mid-word.
"My boy," she said in the tone of a wrathful god, "where did he go?"
It was the sort of question that demanded an answer, a real answer, because Iarei was maybe four and three quarters of a second away from bodily hurling herself over said counter for an answer. Her very presence should be enough for the clerk to have seen something. His eyes were only then widening, as if his brain could not keep up with Iarei's hurry. Apparently the world couldn't, something that she acknowledged with a cruel smirk.
Clerk's mouth opened, hung there, clicked shut when Iarei pounded the desk once with a closed fist, and was served with a frown and a single digit pointing to the doors. Yes, the doors, which were a portal to anywhere and no help whatsoever. She was about to say as much when the patron beside her gave her his own version of thunderous. "Madam--" he started, but she had turned and made a path for the doors. She heard him complain to the clerk about giving service to barbarians, but she was through the door before she could hear more. Knowing his type, he'd probably demand her immediate eviction, and her mood worsened.
She stopped outside of the door, remembering Jester, and her mental countdown started. She was all but frothing at the mouth.
Jester had one minute before Iarei left her behind.
Re: In for a Bishan
Dirken didn't look up from the small silver trinket as he rattled off a fairly accurate description of the statues, including their height and shade and a couple of personal inferences on their workmanship and probable age. He left out the way that everyone had seemed to react negatively to them. Most would probably write it off as general nervousness, but Dirk had learned to recognise when people flinched from bad magic if only to learn the fake such a reaction himself. He rarely bothered to do so, but sometimes it was useful.
He fell silent again, not betraying the attention he was paying Erryl as he turned the pendant he was inspecting under a ray of sunlight.
He fell silent again, not betraying the attention he was paying Erryl as he turned the pendant he was inspecting under a ray of sunlight.
Re: In for a Bishan
Erryl's eyes widened at the ease in which Dirken pulled every specific detail about the statues straight from his memory, as though it were almost photographic, all without shifting his gaze from the object which was currently holding his interest. I really must remember not to underestimate this man, Erryl reminded himself, before turning back to Maloardian.
The old man was nodding slowly, thinking over the description. He seemed to have some kind of idea about what the statues might be; a knowing expression, perhaps? The thought gave Erryl a feeling of both hope and dread, though he could make little sense of either feeling. "Just a moment," Mal mumbled, half to himself, it seemed, before hurrying out to the back room.
Erryl glanced over at Dirken, but he didn't seem too interested. In any case, it was only a few moments before Maloardian returned, clutching an old book of some kind. It wasn't very big, in Erryl's opinion, but he had read a lot of old, new, small and very, very large books; to some he knew, such as his own brother, any book of more than fifty pages, and with more words than pictures, was far too large to be worth the time. He noticed also that it seemed some of the pages had been taken out.
Mal handed the book over to Erryl, who looked over the cover as he held it. It was rather plain, not as old as it had first seemed, and rather in-tact. The older man let out a few hoarse coughs before speaking. "This is a book I had brought over from Eyropa a few years ago. It contains information about-" More coughing. "...hrm, excuse me... Not quite as fit as I used to be. As I was saying, this book talks about, from the parts that I have read, objects similar to what you have mentioned.
"There were a few pages involving magic, which the government felt needed to be removed. Fortunately, the book was still informative enough to be saved from complete destruction. I can give it to you for a very discounted price of twenty-five Bishani."
Erryl, unsure of what to do, looked to Dirken for direction.
The old man was nodding slowly, thinking over the description. He seemed to have some kind of idea about what the statues might be; a knowing expression, perhaps? The thought gave Erryl a feeling of both hope and dread, though he could make little sense of either feeling. "Just a moment," Mal mumbled, half to himself, it seemed, before hurrying out to the back room.
Erryl glanced over at Dirken, but he didn't seem too interested. In any case, it was only a few moments before Maloardian returned, clutching an old book of some kind. It wasn't very big, in Erryl's opinion, but he had read a lot of old, new, small and very, very large books; to some he knew, such as his own brother, any book of more than fifty pages, and with more words than pictures, was far too large to be worth the time. He noticed also that it seemed some of the pages had been taken out.
Mal handed the book over to Erryl, who looked over the cover as he held it. It was rather plain, not as old as it had first seemed, and rather in-tact. The older man let out a few hoarse coughs before speaking. "This is a book I had brought over from Eyropa a few years ago. It contains information about-" More coughing. "...hrm, excuse me... Not quite as fit as I used to be. As I was saying, this book talks about, from the parts that I have read, objects similar to what you have mentioned.
"There were a few pages involving magic, which the government felt needed to be removed. Fortunately, the book was still informative enough to be saved from complete destruction. I can give it to you for a very discounted price of twenty-five Bishani."
Erryl, unsure of what to do, looked to Dirken for direction.
Re: In for a Bishan
After it became clear that Erryl wasn't capable of leading the situation, Dirken replied, "I assume you just meant to say fifteen bishani. You're selling us half a book." He put the trinket down, strode over and pulled the book out of his hands, flicking through it with a critical eye. Dammit, it wasn't even close to 'half a book' -- there was plenty of it left, and it seemed in decent condition. He skimmed the table of contents, hoping to get some basic information for free, but he didn't have enough background knowledge. With a shrug, he handed it back to the shopkeep. They hadn't discussed an expense budget and he wasn't footing a big bill himself if they were splitting the sale four ways. "On second thought, perhaps we should think about this and come back later. They are very interesting little statues, though, aren't they?"
Re: In for a Bishan
It would have taken a while for Jester to untangle herself, excitement getting in her way as much as those damned legs of hers, had Iarei not stopped her where she struggled with a condescending snap of her fingers - as if she were a servant, a dog, who needed to be told where and how to heel - and a snarled,
""Hurry up. By Theogios' balls, I've seen gnarra addicts move faster. I swear to Athena I am going to wring his neck."
Dirky getting his desserts should have given her that devious little thrill it had before, but how dare she? Comparing Jester to an, an addict of all things? It was almost as if she was suggesting - the nerve! - as if Jester would ever - as if she would need such things, tie herself to a downward spiral with no end but ruin! She had seen those shivered wrecks, ailments different but symptoms far too similar, begging for enough money for another hit or too burned out to care they were slouching in the middle of a street. And Iarei dared to compare -
Indignant fury gave her the will to shove herself upright, wall at her back for moral support, and she summoned the voice to snap, "Well, I don't -" only to find herself preaching to the empty doorway that Iarei had vanished through so fast her parting words were still hanging in the air.
"Well," Jester finished, trying not to feel silly, and promptly ruined it by dropping to her knees and scrambling for her pack. Iarei didn't look in any sort of mood to wait; didn't look in any sort of mood to do anyone good, charming veneer scrapped away and a grimace pasted in its place. There was that delighted shiver she'd been wanting, the thought of Dirky on the other end of that scowl a pleasant one.
She gave up checking her pack - it wasn't as if she couldn't come back for what she missed - and only just remembered the statue on her way out. She wavered in the doorway, eyes caught between the bed and the stairs. The twice damnable thing shouldn't be left alone, she felt, but neither did she want to take it with her. It would more than not try and cast some of its thrice damnable magic on Iarei, as it probably had been this entire time. It was no wonder that the snarling woman who tore out of the room was so different from the one Jester had first met, dipped in memory so that she had collapsed to the ground in a manner worthy of the stage to protect Boy, her voice a potent enough spell to stop even momentum.
That was the Iarei Jester wanted back. The leader, the bard, the shining light. Not a curse-tainted curmudgeon who snapped at every delay. She nodded firmly, then jogged down the hallway, door swinging wide and unlocked behind her. She had to do some quick steps to avoid a patron coming up the stairs, but she reached the front desk in a timely manner.
The desk clerk was busy trying to deflect the ramblings of an upset guest, but when he saw Jester he paled strangely and pointed a finger at the door so fast she could have sworn he gave himself whiplash. Assuming he had somehow guessed what she needed - that was service at fine hotels for you - she streaked out the door just in time to almost collide with Iarei, a minute and three seconds after the woman had first left the room.
""Hurry up. By Theogios' balls, I've seen gnarra addicts move faster. I swear to Athena I am going to wring his neck."
Dirky getting his desserts should have given her that devious little thrill it had before, but how dare she? Comparing Jester to an, an addict of all things? It was almost as if she was suggesting - the nerve! - as if Jester would ever - as if she would need such things, tie herself to a downward spiral with no end but ruin! She had seen those shivered wrecks, ailments different but symptoms far too similar, begging for enough money for another hit or too burned out to care they were slouching in the middle of a street. And Iarei dared to compare -
Indignant fury gave her the will to shove herself upright, wall at her back for moral support, and she summoned the voice to snap, "Well, I don't -" only to find herself preaching to the empty doorway that Iarei had vanished through so fast her parting words were still hanging in the air.
"Well," Jester finished, trying not to feel silly, and promptly ruined it by dropping to her knees and scrambling for her pack. Iarei didn't look in any sort of mood to wait; didn't look in any sort of mood to do anyone good, charming veneer scrapped away and a grimace pasted in its place. There was that delighted shiver she'd been wanting, the thought of Dirky on the other end of that scowl a pleasant one.
She gave up checking her pack - it wasn't as if she couldn't come back for what she missed - and only just remembered the statue on her way out. She wavered in the doorway, eyes caught between the bed and the stairs. The twice damnable thing shouldn't be left alone, she felt, but neither did she want to take it with her. It would more than not try and cast some of its thrice damnable magic on Iarei, as it probably had been this entire time. It was no wonder that the snarling woman who tore out of the room was so different from the one Jester had first met, dipped in memory so that she had collapsed to the ground in a manner worthy of the stage to protect Boy, her voice a potent enough spell to stop even momentum.
That was the Iarei Jester wanted back. The leader, the bard, the shining light. Not a curse-tainted curmudgeon who snapped at every delay. She nodded firmly, then jogged down the hallway, door swinging wide and unlocked behind her. She had to do some quick steps to avoid a patron coming up the stairs, but she reached the front desk in a timely manner.
The desk clerk was busy trying to deflect the ramblings of an upset guest, but when he saw Jester he paled strangely and pointed a finger at the door so fast she could have sworn he gave himself whiplash. Assuming he had somehow guessed what she needed - that was service at fine hotels for you - she streaked out the door just in time to almost collide with Iarei, a minute and three seconds after the woman had first left the room.
Re: In for a Bishan
Maloardian appeared rather taken aback by Dirken's suggestion that the book was worth a mere fifteen Bishani. "I assure you, sir, this volume is worth at least fifty. It is in excellent condition, considering the circumstances; these things are not at all easy to import, as you can surely imagine."
"On second thought, perhaps we should think about this and come back later. They are very interesting little statues, though, aren't they?"
"Yes, yes, indeed," Mal replied, taking the book from Dirken. "Take your time, and if you choose to purchase the item, it will be here. We are open at all daylight hours. Was there anything else I could help you with?" He looked between the two younger men with a curious expression.
Erryl stood back silently, observing the exchange, now completely unsure what to do. Not that he had been all that sure of things earlier, but now he was simply waiting for instructions or some other indication of where he was needed next. Erryl wished he could take control of the situation himself, not trusting Dirken to lead him through the situation safely, but he was barely keeping up with events himself. It felt almost as if he had been taken to another world entirely, the way his normal life felt so distant now.
You are being ridiculous again, Erryl. You are over-thinking things. Just pay attention, he told himself repeatedly.
"On second thought, perhaps we should think about this and come back later. They are very interesting little statues, though, aren't they?"
"Yes, yes, indeed," Mal replied, taking the book from Dirken. "Take your time, and if you choose to purchase the item, it will be here. We are open at all daylight hours. Was there anything else I could help you with?" He looked between the two younger men with a curious expression.
Erryl stood back silently, observing the exchange, now completely unsure what to do. Not that he had been all that sure of things earlier, but now he was simply waiting for instructions or some other indication of where he was needed next. Erryl wished he could take control of the situation himself, not trusting Dirken to lead him through the situation safely, but he was barely keeping up with events himself. It felt almost as if he had been taken to another world entirely, the way his normal life felt so distant now.
You are being ridiculous again, Erryl. You are over-thinking things. Just pay attention, he told himself repeatedly.
Re: In for a Bishan
Iarei was startled at Jester's rather timely appearance, though that didn't stop her from being angry at the other woman, anyways. At least she appeared to be clear eyed, which was a plus considering that any remnant of haze would mean the other was essentially useless. She still might be useless, Iarei decided uncharitably, since she couldn't legitimately criticize Jester for being slow. Well, since Jester had been one step away from drooling upstairs, she could still criticize her for being slow. So she would.
She offered Jester a frown, but since she still hadn't figured out what direction Boy had taken off in, she couldn't exactly turn on her heel and stride away. So she hesitated, unwilling to share her lack of knowledge with Jester, when otherwise she was in a position of power. She could simply tell Jester to go the opposite direction from herself, but. . .
She looked Jester up and down. No, it was far better the other woman come with her, just in case. So far, Iarei had been unimpressed with how Jester handled herself. It would therefore be a poor decision to expect the other to handle the situation by herself, should she run into Boy, or trouble, or probably both.
Five seconds, ten seconds.
"This way," she snapped after an eternity of indecision, figuring that the brat would be unlikely to go back to where he got the statues, since he was not entirely stupid. But, half the city was still an unknown to her, and she didn't even know where the ruffians might be laired, or when they might be lurking. Just by picking a direction Iarei had cut her chances of even being in the right area by half, much less somehow actually finding a child capable of squeezing into tight holes Iarei had no chance of finding.
She stopped. She made a noise deep in her throat somehow similar to a cat in heat. "This is pointless. I do not know this city or where he might be. Every second we spend in fruitless searching is one where we might be found and caught off guard. Can you fight off thugs? I can't. I doubt they'd be smart enough to be reasoned with." She turned to look at Jester as if it was her fault. "How well do you know this city?"
She offered Jester a frown, but since she still hadn't figured out what direction Boy had taken off in, she couldn't exactly turn on her heel and stride away. So she hesitated, unwilling to share her lack of knowledge with Jester, when otherwise she was in a position of power. She could simply tell Jester to go the opposite direction from herself, but. . .
She looked Jester up and down. No, it was far better the other woman come with her, just in case. So far, Iarei had been unimpressed with how Jester handled herself. It would therefore be a poor decision to expect the other to handle the situation by herself, should she run into Boy, or trouble, or probably both.
Five seconds, ten seconds.
"This way," she snapped after an eternity of indecision, figuring that the brat would be unlikely to go back to where he got the statues, since he was not entirely stupid. But, half the city was still an unknown to her, and she didn't even know where the ruffians might be laired, or when they might be lurking. Just by picking a direction Iarei had cut her chances of even being in the right area by half, much less somehow actually finding a child capable of squeezing into tight holes Iarei had no chance of finding.
She stopped. She made a noise deep in her throat somehow similar to a cat in heat. "This is pointless. I do not know this city or where he might be. Every second we spend in fruitless searching is one where we might be found and caught off guard. Can you fight off thugs? I can't. I doubt they'd be smart enough to be reasoned with." She turned to look at Jester as if it was her fault. "How well do you know this city?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Dirken waited for Erryl to push the matter of the statues, but he didn't. You couldn't sound too pushy in this sort of delicate sale, so on a snap decision he gave a shrug that was really more a twitch of one shoulder, said "I think we're fine, thanks for your time" and turned to leave. He had a promising lead; now he'd let Iarei handle the sale. She liked to pretend she was in charge of things.
Trusting Erryl to follow blindly as he usually seemed to, Dirken left and strode back toward the hotel.
Trusting Erryl to follow blindly as he usually seemed to, Dirken left and strode back toward the hotel.
Re: In for a Bishan
As Dirken left the store, Erryl thanked the store owner and hurried through the door after him. As he stepped outside, he scanned the street for anyone looking like they might be trouble, before running to catch up with Dirken. He walked along beside him for a few moments, eyes on the people they passed, before turning to his partner and asking quietly, "Are we going back to the inn now? Did we get enough information?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Running out into the sunlight had been a mistake. Running at all had probably been a mistake, seeing as her head was still weightless and achy from her nap and the lingering remnants of her headache. She started followed the shape of Iarei blindly, so busy trying to keep track of her blurry edges that when the other woman stopped short and whipped around she had to perform an awkward side stepping dance to avoid slamming their heads together.
When Iarei asked if she knew the city - the city she'd practically grown up in, brat to woman - her first instinct was an exuberant yes. Her second was to lie. The two became entangled, and she paused, body frozen in the forward arched, opened mouth position that would've accompanied her first response.
What would Iarei think of her, knowing she grew up in a city as artistically poor as Marn? Would she scorn her, refuse to have anything to do with her? But no. Her brain caught up with her. She could know the city without being made of it. She could agree.
"The vendor's street, right?" she thinks that's where Dirky went, anyway. She starts off down the street, looking back to make sure Iarei's following. "It's this way, come on."
When Iarei asked if she knew the city - the city she'd practically grown up in, brat to woman - her first instinct was an exuberant yes. Her second was to lie. The two became entangled, and she paused, body frozen in the forward arched, opened mouth position that would've accompanied her first response.
What would Iarei think of her, knowing she grew up in a city as artistically poor as Marn? Would she scorn her, refuse to have anything to do with her? But no. Her brain caught up with her. She could know the city without being made of it. She could agree.
"The vendor's street, right?" she thinks that's where Dirky went, anyway. She starts off down the street, looking back to make sure Iarei's following. "It's this way, come on."
Re: In for a Bishan
Hadn't that been back the way --? Iarei frowned as she followed Jester. No, better to trust the other woman, who did seem to know the city better than Iarei. It was easy to figure the other woman for a bit of a failure at her chosen lifestyle, but her sense of direction seemed to be impeccable. At least this way she didn't have to go back into the inn, and have the clerk do the verbal equivalent of throttling her. She felt better to be moving, doing something. It had always been that way.
"Are you sure he would have come this way? Wouldn't he be trying to hide?" She asked loudly as she trotted to keep up with Jester, trying to battle her way alongside the older woman. Boy was canny enough to sneak away from any rough looking men -- probably -- and since Iarei was sure they were being watched, even now. . .
Well, if they didn't find Boy soon, Iarei would see to it they hired a tough of their own. She wasn't going to be caught flat-footed.
"Are you sure he would have come this way? Wouldn't he be trying to hide?" She asked loudly as she trotted to keep up with Jester, trying to battle her way alongside the older woman. Boy was canny enough to sneak away from any rough looking men -- probably -- and since Iarei was sure they were being watched, even now. . .
Well, if they didn't find Boy soon, Iarei would see to it they hired a tough of their own. She wasn't going to be caught flat-footed.
Re: In for a Bishan
"No, we didn't," Dirk replied to Erryl, "but it'll do for now." the people in this town just didn't know how to bargain properly. Maybe he'd be better off dealing with the thugs if all shopkeepers were like that one.
He was quite surprised to see the women moving towards them in some distress and picked up his pace. Had they found a buyer? Had they been attacked?
"What's going on? What's the panic?"
He was quite surprised to see the women moving towards them in some distress and picked up his pace. Had they found a buyer? Had they been attacked?
"What's going on? What's the panic?"
Re: In for a Bishan
Erryl was surprised by Dirken's sudden increase in pace, and even more so to see Iarei and Jester coming towards them.
"What's going on? What's the panic?"
"What? What is it?" Erryl couldn't help asking, confused by the change in atmosphere. There was something wrong, it seemed, from the way the air changed as the women approached. They were concerned, alert, and slightly afraid. It was strange how it all seemed to rush in after the dull, empty feeling of standing nearby Dirken.
"What's going on? What's the panic?"
"What? What is it?" Erryl couldn't help asking, confused by the change in atmosphere. There was something wrong, it seemed, from the way the air changed as the women approached. They were concerned, alert, and slightly afraid. It was strange how it all seemed to rush in after the dull, empty feeling of standing nearby Dirken.
Re: In for a Bishan
"No?" Jester replied, thinking - surely they hadn't done anything to tip Dirky off, had they? - then, more certain, "No. He shouldn't know he's in trouble. He should still be with... er... he should still be looking for a buyer, shouldn't -"
"What is it? What's the panic?" A familiar voice reached her through the crowd.
"What? What is it?" a less but still familiar voice echoed.
Speak of the Changer and he shalt appear, Jester thought sourly, but with a little thrill of triumph too. The two were both hurrying toward them, worried expressions on their faces for some reason, Dirky completely unaware of his impending doom. She turned to Iarei expectantly, stepping slightly to the side to allow the carnage to fly unhindered.
Oh, she was going to enjoy this.
"What is it? What's the panic?" A familiar voice reached her through the crowd.
"What? What is it?" a less but still familiar voice echoed.
Speak of the Changer and he shalt appear, Jester thought sourly, but with a little thrill of triumph too. The two were both hurrying toward them, worried expressions on their faces for some reason, Dirky completely unaware of his impending doom. She turned to Iarei expectantly, stepping slightly to the side to allow the carnage to fly unhindered.
Oh, she was going to enjoy this.