A Rare Vacation (Kieran)

[Elloria]

It’s a rare day that one finds Josk outside the borders of DuWeldenvarden. Indeed, he is rarely outside his home city of Ellesméra. However, that was merely because he seldom had vacation time. The life of a male Drone was always busy, even if it was merely running errands for the female Drones and Lieutenants. Fortunately that wasn’t the case today. After much subtle hinting and politely requesting, Josk had been allowed to travel to Ceunon “to find some rare poisons” that he couldn’t make in Ellesméra.

Which was only partly bogus. There certainly were rare poisons to be found in Ceunon’s black market, but none that could really be classified as such. But really, Josk just wanted out of Ellesméra for a while. As he strolled through the stalls of the massive Ceunon marketplace, he wondered what else he might do today. He hadn’t given an estimated return date to his lieutenant, but it was assumed he would return in a timely fashion. He always did. But just this once, he didn’t want to rush the experience. This was much needed distance for him, after all.

But that train of thought drew him back to exactly what he was hoping to not think of. He became distracted and unobservant as he thought back on the deaths that had brought him to this point in his life. It was a foolish, careless mistake on his part. In his inattentiveness, he bumped into another of the buyers. “My apologies,” he muttered quickly, not quite glancing at the individual. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

[Emma]

After all this time, I still kept forgetting how much Madame Grey scared me.

And so, naturally, I was very blatantly reminded of it whenever I came to pay her a visit. A very, very old elf, she was a unique Drone. It was not unusual for them to make hierarchies and even unofficial companies since there were so many of them, and she had done just that. Owner of the most high-end brothel in Ceunon, the prostitutes of which were all Drones as well, her girls were fiercely loyal to her and accomplished spies. Besides obviously being relied on by the Hive, the sex industry had been good to her- she was also filthy rich, and practically an uncrowned queen in her own right.

I supposed it made up for just how hideous she was. Though not bad-looking when I’d first met her as a child, before she’d joined the Hive, her face had become strained before she was even all that old, her eyes had become black and seething, and now, with so much wealth, she’d let her body go. Especially considering how tiny she was supposed to be, what would have been plump on most women was full-out obesity on her. She was never seen without her pipe, and stank of tobacco. The smell assaulted my sensitive nose, making it a struggle to keep my face impassive.

“So,” she said, after another huff of her pipe. “Which one do we burn?”

At least I had an important, even interesting reason to be here. Madame Grey had run into double trouble. A girl of hers had been found murdered, with the blame pinned on the brothel mistress herself, as well as other evidence that could mean very bad things for the Madame financially. She gestured to two ledgers. One was true, detailing the brothel turning a much-too-healthy profit for its own good. The other was a fabrication meant for the Broddring government, showing the brothel slowly sinking into bankruptcy.

“Well…” I murmured, picking up the two carefully bound books. “We burn the real one, you get more cash when the brothel’s a pile o’ ashes.”
“And?” she blew a puff of smoke directly into my face.
“And,” I said, coughing, “we burn the fake one, you lose the one thing that would hold up against scrutiny, should the gov boys stick their noses into it.”
“Depending on how one looks at the situation…” The Madame sucked her pipe. “It would seem that they both have merit.”
“Maybe we should burn both of ‘em,” I said cheerily.
“Why, Kieran…” she somehow rose far enough out of her seat to give me an affectionate pat on the head. “You think like a man of action now. The ledgers are fine for the moment. However, something requires burning.” She removed a small red ribbon from her clasp. “Someone, to be exact. You know what to do.” She tossed the ribbon into my lap. “I want him to suffer the very same way my Sanga did.”
“Naturally.”
“Good boy. Now, off with you. I want to enjoy my day in peace.”

I carefully stepped out of the Madame’s litter, holding the curtain back and bowing graciously in farewell. Then, letting the curtain fall into place, I watched the litter leave, carried by four muscular humans all in the brothel’s employ. I looked around. Ceunon was a positively massive city, with such a melting pot of races and ethnicities that no one that lived here actually cared about the fact that humans and elves resided together. Screeching vendors, colourful wares, and exotic scents filled me with sensory overload. Disoriented, I failed to notice the male elf directly behind me.

It wasn’t unusual for jostling and elbowing to occur, but this one practically ran headfirst into me. I stumbled backward a step or two and glared hotly at a very pale elf, maybe a hundred or so years younger than me. He wore dark, finely made clothing. He was also an inch or so shorter than me, but what truly attracted my attention was his pale eyes. Vibrant and conflicted, as well as somewhat disturbing in that they were nearly transparent, the usual hailstorm of swear words I would have given him was halted. Instead, hardly even looking at me, he muttered an apology.

And then he was gone, entirely indistinguishable in the crowd. I blinked and swore under my breath, passing a hand over my unshaven chin. I didn’t have any Drones with me. The Madame had demanded the utmost discretion in this quest, although I was very convinced that she just liked to screw around with the little boy that had once sat in her lap. With a despondent sigh, I headed towards my first location- a scummy back alley vendor that claimed to have witnessed Sanga’s death. I left the main market and entered the realm of questionable goods, poisons and potions, and seedy individuals.

And before I could even see the assailant coming, I received a blade in the gut.

It happened so incredibly quickly that I didn’t see him or her come and go. Jarring pain and cold steel quickly knocked me off my feet and onto the cobblestones, gasping with pain. Two humans lingered nearby. They took one glance at me and were gone. They’d be back, though, when they thought I’d be good and dead, so they could rummage through my belongings. Considering it was just a dagger, I tried to sit up, and failed miserably. To make things worse, my stomach began to feel numb. Panicking, I forced myself up against the wall and tried to regain control of my breathing.

If I’d been smart enough, I’d brought my poultices along. If not, I clearly deserved getting knifed in the gut.

Words;; 965
Muse;; Good!
Thoughts;; Yay! It doesn't suck!

[Elloria]

Josk caught only a glimpse of the man he had run into. A bit taller than himself, aristocratic features, black hair with shots of gray - in short, he looked human enough to not properly register in Josk’s mind. Thus it was of little consequence to him after he slipped into the crowd. More mindful of his surroundings, he wound his way through the marketplace to a seedy back alley. He had “inquired” of several individuals about the location of a certain merchant who specialized in Seithr oil. The man had changed venues since the last time Josk had dealt with him. And while he didn’t believe that the information was particularly accurate, but it was all he had to go on. The kind of oil he was after was incredibly difficult to come by and he certainly didn’t have the sort of privacy required for its creation. The gall and willingness, yes - he had that in spades. But how could you explain the rather dark business of preparing Seithr oil to the authorities of DuWeldenvarden? Impossible.

But it seemed that fortune was smiling upon Josk today, for he found the shop with little trouble. Pushing aside the rug that was passing for a door, he peered around to quickly assess the interior. It was dingy, poorly-lit, and smelt like rats had died in it several weeks ago. A single man stood behind the counter, picking at his teeth while staring out the window. The man immediately straightened up as soon as Josk entered. “Whatcha want, elf?” the man demanded gruffly.

Josk gave the man a look of supreme disdain before flicking his eyes around the shop. “I’m looking for Trifoud. I’ve some business I’d like to conduct with him.” There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the immediate vicinity, though Josk thought he heard some people moving around in a back room. “’E’s in back. Bit busy at the mo’. Come-” Josk crossed the short distance in the blink of an eye. Leaning in very close to murmur in the man’s ear, he said, “I don’t have time to waste. Tell Trifoud that his friend from the city wishes to purchase something from him now.” The next moment found him out of reach of the stunned man. With a nod, he turned and shouted something into the back room. Moments later, the portly Trifoud entered the main shop and gave Josk a hard look. “Thought I was quit a’ ya, brat. How many ya after this time?”

“Three flasks. How high have your prices hiked?” Trifoud chuckled darkly and they moved closer to begin haggling. The clerk watched the transaction in fearful curiosity. Josk kept close track of him out of the corner of his eyes. He had little desire to die today. About ten minutes later, he reached an acceptable price. “We’ll do the exchange where we did previously. Unless you were an absolute fool, I highly doubt any will be able to track us there or discover this ever happened.”

Trifoud merely nodded and returned to back room. Giving the clerk a brief nod, Josk exited the dingy shop. Eyes darting around the alley, he noticed two humans vanishing around a corner and a third human frantically struggling to get upright. He watched the man for a long moment as he managed to prop himself against one wall. His hands were pressed tightly against his gut and Josk could only assume he’d just been attacked. He briefly considered just leaving the human there - what possible reason could he have to aid this victim? He turned and started in the opposite direction before halting once more. He sighed deeply. His gut was practically screaming that he’d regret just leaving the man there. And while this surely could all be an act to lure him in, who here knew his face, would wish him serious harm? More importantly, who could harm him? Trusting that inner voice, Josk whirled around and stalked towards the man. In moments, he was kneeling beside the man. He was a bit surprised to find himself facing the person he had bumped into earlier. Meeting the man's eyes and using a low voice that was meant to soothe, he said “Mannligr, eka mulabra ono né haina. Atra eka heill ono.”

Josk dared do nothing more just yet. Although he had spoken in the Ancient Language, that was no guarantee that this man would take kindly to it. The Ancient Language was tricky and, though always truthfully spoken, had many loopholes one could jump through.

((OOC: Translations! ^__^
Mannligr, eka mulabra ono né haina. = Human, I mean you no harm.
Atra eka heill ono. = Let me heal you.))

[Emma]

After several minutes of fruitlessly rummaging through my pockets, I gave up. Muttering an endless stream of curses under my breath at my own idiocy, I slid my hand down the cloth of my dark blue tunic until I found the knife, rammed into my gut all the way up to the hilt. Bracing myself, I gripped the handle and tore it free, clenching my teeth and hissing with the pain. Panting, I fingered the wet fabric and the pool of blood soaking it, pressing down on the wound. I was much more worried about the poison than the blood loss, however, and so I leaned up against the wall, trying to slow my breathing.

“Mannligr, eka mulabra ono né haina. Atra eka heill ono.”

I’d been concentrating so hard on trying not to die that I had failed to notice the elf’s approach. The musical words of my rarely-heard first language immediately caught my attention, and I craned my head to meet the person’s gaze. I found myself face-to-face with the elf that had bumped into me in the main marketplace, immediately recognizable by his unique silver eyes. Panic briefly gripped me, and I fumbled for the bloody dagger I’d dropped, assuming he was going to finish the job. However, he was completely calm, there was no weapon in his open hands, and if he’d meant to kill me, he’d have done it already.

I relaxed, but kept my guard up. Like nearly everyone I met, he thought I was a simple human. Why would he want to heal me, then? Elves were not known for their compassion, especially towards mortals- the extent of it reached putting the old and sickly out of their misery with a quick strike to the heart. On top of that, decades of serving in the Hive had taught me just how dangerous trust could be, and I wasn’t willing to put my money on this elf saving my life. And yet, I could feel myself slipping- the pain faded, and my heartbeat was sluggish despite my anxiety. I had to take the risk.

I almost replied in the ancient language, but then remembering that I was supposed to be a simple, ignorant little human peasant, I only replied with a jerky nod. I hated the feeling of magic, and as the unpleasantly warm stream of magic entered my injury, I shifted and gritted my teeth at the discomfort. When the strange feeling as well as the light faded away, I felt energy return to my limbs, and my heartbeat picked up. I steadily rose to my feet, touching the bare skin of my belly where the wound had once been. Once I was sure that I had regained my strength, I stood up straight, eyeing the man suspiciously.

“… thanks, man.” I finally told him in the common tongue, now that I was sure he had only healed me and done nothing else. I gave him a cheery half-smirk. “Ever need a favour from Kieran Kolbjorn, just let me know. I got connections.”

Words;; 510
Muse;; Kind of... dry.
Thoughts;; Well, I TOTALLY wasn't in the mood for it, hence the shortness and lack of proper detail. D= I hope the next one will be better!

[Elloria]

Josk didn’t miss the frantic fumbling for the bloody dagger beside the man. Nor did the flash of panic in the man’s eyes, followed by a guarded trust escape his notice either. The man was wary, but Josk couldn’t blame him. He had heard of the war that had torn asunder the ties between men and elves. He knew the contempt in which the elves held humanity - a feeling also held by men of elves. Josk was ambivalent enough to not give a damn.

With the man’s jerky nod, he spoke his native tongue once more. “Waíse heill.” He felt the magical energy flee from his body and flood into the wound, knitting muscle and flesh back together while destroying the poison slowly seeping through the man’s veins - poison Josk hadn’t realized was there. Once the wound was healed, he felt the flow of magic cut itself off. The resulting fatigue made his shoulders slump and his head bow. It had taken more than he had guessed. He could only hope it would be well worth it.

As the man slowly stood, Josk leaned back a bit. The dagger caught his eye. Curiosity getting the better of him, he gingerly picked it up by the hilt and inspected it. He felt the magic course through him once more as he caught a strong whiff of something unwholesome. Alarm bells went off in his head. He had figured the blade would be poisoned and that his ward would go off. But whatever it was, it was incredibly potent. Perhaps even a mix of toxic elements. He gingerly pulled a kerchief from an inner pocket and carefully wrapped the dagger in it before placing it in the same pocket.

Josk then rose from his kneeling position. He dusted himself off, noting in his peripheral vision that the man was eying him. “… thanks, man.” The cheery half-smirk that now graced the man’s face made Josk’s left eye twitch slightly. What he said next, however, made him frown slightly. “Ever need a favour from Kieran Kolbjorn, just let me know. I got connections.”

“Kieran...Kolbjorn?” The words rolled off his tongue with a strange familiarity. He cocked his head slightly and gazed directly into the man’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but perhaps it was hidden in those startlingly green eyes. After a moment, he said, “That name is...familiar.” He continued to stare into the man’s eyes, his brow still knit into a slight frown. He couldn’t place the name. It was infuriating. How did he know that name? Well, he’d just have to be direct about it. He had learned from his little brother how effective bluntness could be. “Do you, by chance, know any elves?”

[Emma]

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. Recognition appeared in the elf’s eyes, and he scrutinized me carefully. For well over two centuries, the name ‘Kolbjorn’ hadn’t meant anything to anyone. During Palancar’s Slaughter, however, my older sister Myaja had made quite a name for herself- Renowned for her absolute lacking of mercy to her enemies and the human head count under her belt, she was a dauntless, imperious woman- which was exactly why she’d been promoted to general of the entire elven army. And due to the little faux pas I’d pulled as an adolescent that had led to my banishment, the Ice Queen of Du Weldenvarden would run me through on sight if she ever found me.

Without moving my head, I glanced downwards, and noticed that the knife I’d dropped beside me was gone. Damn! He must have taken it while he was healing me. As a plus, however, the elf also looked notably exhausted from using the spell. His posture was not quite as straight as before, and his shoulders sagged. I quietly reminded myself that I kept several throwing daggers hidden within my heavy trench coat, and the rings on my fingers were filled with various powders easily slipped into food and drink. And again, he had no visible interest in biting my head off- but one never knew with an elf. They were the true masters of deception.

“Do you, by chance, know any elves?”

I had an interesting sensation where my brain festered and seemed to die. Did he know I wasn’t human, now? Panic and fear briefly gripped me, churning my insides. Nothing was worse than having an enemy that didn’t face you. After my moment of weakness, however, I hardened myself. I was being paranoid, and part of the reason Myaja had always hated me was because she considered me weak. I was a Hive Lieutenant, a remarkable achievement for a man, and Du Weldenvarden couldn’t so much as touch the Hive. I had nothing to fear, not even from my own sister. So, with a surge of confidence, my smirk returned, and I tilted my head.

“Yeah, I do, actually. I work with lots of ‘em. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of the Hive, Mister… uh, y’know, you should really tell me your name, kiddo.”

A flash of movement caught my eye. I immediately turned to look, but there was no one there- just cold stone walls and seedy, suspicious-looking individuals. When I inhaled, I realized that I stank of blood. The injury was gone, but my clothing was still dripping. Elves had a particularly good sense of smell, and I’d been warned that Sanga’s killer could likely be an elf- the burn marks on her body had been caused by magical means. If not an elf, then the killer was obviously no average human. Either way, I’d have difficulty taking him or her down. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, I quietly cursed Madame Grey for not letting me bring my Drones along. Even Helaku would be better than nothing in this situation.

Words;; 525
Muse;; Not... great.
Thoughts;; Gah! Posts with little action are not my strong point. D=

[Elloria]

Josk’s eyes brightened with recognition as Kieran mentioned the Hive. That was how he knew the name! Kieran was one of the few males in the history of the Hive to achieve the rank of Lieutenant - the highest any male could hope to reach. And while some humans were part of the rank and file of the vast organization, elves comprised a good 90% of it, if not more. Moreover now that he could place the man before him as a probable elf, that made his surname even more recognizable. Wasn’t it Myaja Kolbjorn who commanded the army of the elves? A satisfied smile lit up Josk’s face.

He opened his mouth to reply when a flash of movement gave him pause. He turned in the direction of it. The smile slipped from his face as his eyes darted around, searching for a threat he felt was there. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. At least, out of the ordinary for this part of Ceunon. With a final darting glance around, he turned back to Kieran. He wrinkled his nose for a moment as he noticed the strong smell of blood. Josk was a great fan of causing others suffering, but the scent of blood - when not in the context of him maiming someone - was a distasteful aroma to him.

He had spoken in the language of Broddring before, but now he slipped back into his native tongue. He had little doubts that Kieran understood every single word he was saying - and not just from the instinctive sense of truthfulness that all non-speakers felt upon hearing the Ancient Language. “Well, Kieran, it will no doubt surprise you to learn that I am familiar with them. Intimately so. Though I doubt you’ve heard of me. I am Josk Danta of Malakian company. And that is all I will say for the moment. Perhaps we might speak somewhere less...unsavory and exposed?” He gestured towards the end of the alley. “And perhaps we might find some cleaner attire for you. You smell like a freshly mangled corpse.” He gave the disguised elf before him a cheeky grin to rival Kieran’s earlier smirk before pulling up the hood of his cloak. Jerking his head to indicate that Kieran should follow him, Josk strode towards the end of the alley. When he reached it, he looked back and spoke again in the Ancient Language. “I will not harm you nor let you be harmed in my presence if it is in my power to prevent it.”

[Emma]

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders when the elf’s eyes widened in recognition, and then a smile split his face. Thank Nyx, I was probably dealing with some Hive Drone from Du Weldenvarden. It was a much-needed stroke of luck in the hell of a day I’d had so far. Naturally, the fact that he was a Drone didn’t necessarily mean that he’d be helping me- Lieutenants were rarely on anything further than cordial terms with each other, and spent most of their time attempting to undermine their fellows for the Shrikes’, and ultimately the Queen’s, favour. He was from Du Weldenvarden, however, where naturally my interests did not reach- and hopefully, vice versa for his Lieutenant.

“Well, Kieran, it will no doubt surprise you to learn that I am familiar with them. Intimately so. Though I doubt you’ve heard of me. I am Josk Danta of Malakian company. And that is all I will say for the moment. Perhaps we might speak somewhere less...unsavoury and exposed? And perhaps we might find some cleaner attire for you. You smell like a freshly mangled corpse.”

I gritted my teeth when he mentioned he was part of Malakian Company. That was a big one. The biggest. It was stationed in the Hive’s central hub, Ellesméra, and so exercised the most power. And Amelia Vencari, the company’s Lieutenant, was one that couldn’t always be trusted. She hid things. It seemed I would have to be careful after all. Tilting my head back and eyeing the empty alley to which Danta was motioning, I nodded silently. After the attack on me had been made, most people had cleared out of there, with the exception of a few vendors too poor to risk closing their stalls. Danta gave me a grin, pulled up the hood of his cloak, and began walking toward the alleyway.

“I will not harm you nor let you be harmed in my presence if it is in my power to prevent it.”

Well, that stilled my earlier worries. It was impossible to lie in the ancient language- although elves did make a living jumping through loopholes in it. Still, a Lieutenant dying in the presence of a Drone did not go unchecked in the Hive- male or not, the organization took care of its own. I just nodded wordlessly, my mind still fuzzy from the effects of the adrenaline and the poison combined. I didn’t have the time or the ability to be snarky. Following Danta, I glanced around the corner and into the alley. It was deceptively empty-looking, but at the very end it opened up into what seemed to be a main street. I wasn’t sure where Danta was planning to take me for new clothes.

He’d also switched to the ancient language, I’d realized, which was so natural to me that I hadn’t realized it. I’d been speaking the common tongue for so many years that I’d even developed the rough, hangdog way of speech of the low-born classes. Even as a child in my parents’ estate at Osilon, I’d talked like a common scullery maid just to rile my father. As I rearranged my heavy coat and drew close to the Drone, I easily made the language switch in my head. After a few moments of hesitation- after all, it could have well been a rival company that had murdered Sanga- I decided that beggars couldn’t be choosers. Turning to the elf beside me, I spoke in a low whisper.

“I… don’t suppose you’ve heard of Madame Grey? Portly mistress of the local hussy house?”

Words;; 600
Muse;; Ehhhh.
Thoughts;; Woo! Post!

[Elloria]

Josk stepped languidly out into the bustle of one of Ceunon's main roads. He stood still for a moment, letting the press of people pass around him as he got his bearings. By the looks of things, they were in the northwest quadrant of the city. Yes, there was a shop he had visited just yesterday. His brow furrowed as he remembered the shopkeep - who had apparently lied about not knowing Trifoud's whereabouts. The woman was just across the street from him! He'd deal with that later, though. Right now, he needed to find a discrete shop to get Kieran clean clothes. The blood really was a pungent odor, even above the filthy stench of this squalid city. How any of the elves that dwelt here could endure it was beyond Josk. Then again, they were probably as squalid as the humans.

Tch. Such distasteful thoughts. He cast them from his mind and turned left, wading through the crowds with Kieran close beside him. As he pondered which of the semi-legal shops to visit, he was distracted by a low whisper from his companion. Madame Gray? No, that name certainly wasn’t familiar to him. Why should it be, especially if she ran a hussy house? Josk tensed, thoroughly insulted. Did he really look like the kind of man to frequent such an establishment? He could hardly tolerate touching a woman casually, innocently, much less in such an intimate manner as that. The very thought was revolting. He remained silent for a long moment, working to contain his outrage. His jaw worked in that moment, the grinding of his teeth almost audible.

When he felt sufficiently calm, he spoke. His tone was icy as he murmured, “I have never heard that name before. And if she is the madam of a whorehouse, I certainly have never encountered her. I do not interact with such tasteless individuals, whether for business or pleasure.” He swept on down the street, nearly leaving Kieran behind as he sought out a shop that suddenly popped into mind. Several minutes later, he finally found it. Without ceremony, he opened the door and entered the shop. It was rather small and nothing on the exterior would indicate that this was a clothing shop. A plump woman was fussing about some clothing against a wall. “Sali!" he called out to her in a sing-song voice. He had switched back to the Broddring tongue. “Sali, dear one, you simply must help me. My friend is in need of some new attire and I can’t think of a better shop than here.”

The woman had turned at her name, revealing a pretty but scarred face. Her skin was dusky black and her hair was black, streaked with gray. Mischievous blue eyes gave Josk a once-over. She place her hand on her hips and thrust her chin at Josk. “Don’ come in heer expectin’ meh to drop everthan for yew, boy. I be a busy woman, Josk.” Josk merely grinned at her. He enjoyed listening to her thick accent, thinking of how out of place the woman was. She belonged on the other side of the Hadarac, like her family before her - not here in Ceunon. She glared at him for a moment longer before sighing and eying Kieran. She directed her next comment to Kieran. “Whatcha want, boy?”

[Emma]

Danta suddenly, alarmingly, got tense. I was reminded of a cat about to spring as he suddenly slowed, shoulders raised like the hackles on a wolf. At first I thought that we were under attack, but he didn’t assume any combat position. He refrained from staring at me, and kept his mouth firmly shut. I realized that it was something I’d said. Despite his words, I kept on alert as he seemed to struggle for control of his emotions. After a few moments, I saw him school his face back into the amicable expression it had had before, but his eyes did not lose their sudden steel- nor did his voice when he spoke.

“I have never heard that name before. And if she is the madam of a whorehouse, I certainly have never encountered her. I do not interact with such tasteless individuals, whether for business or pleasure.”

He slipped around a corner and down the street so quickly, I didn’t have the time to formulate a reply. I sped after him, confusion momentarily staggering me, but then I realized- this was, after all, a born and bred elf that I was dealing with. Despite engaging in such acts, they considered themselves far above the filthy pleasures of humanity. In reality, they just hid it better. Years of war, something their kind was not suited to, had made them pompous and callous. My perplexed stare was replaced by a solid grin. I’d insulted him, then. Though elven arrogance usually merely amused me, I needed to repair this rift. Danta could be of great aid in finding Sanga’s killer.

The Drone had already entered a store, however- one that wasn’t quite as seedy-looking as the others, but still nothing most respectable folk would be seen entering. The exterior was nothing but bare stone and wood, but the shop’s interior was full of a wide variety of clothing. Small and crowded, there were three people inside- two male customers that spoke in low tones and kept to themselves by one of the display racks, and a dark-skinned woman, obviously the storekeeper, whose beauty had been marred by age and scarring. From the glare she gave Danta and the ease with which he strode into her shop, it was obvious that they were familiar with each other.

“Sali!” sang Danta. “Sali, dear one, you simply must help me. My friend is in need of some new attire and I can’t think of a better shop than here.”
“Don’ come in heer expectin’ meh to drop everthan for yew, boy. I be a busy woman, Josk.” Her speech pattern and accent were easy for me to understand. Medusa Gorgophone, one of the three Hive Shrikes, spoke in a very similar manner. Sali looked me up and down disapprovingly before snapping, “Whatcha want, boy?”
“Well-”
“Ugh! Thah smell!” Her eyes widened when she noticed the stains on my tunic. Too late, I hid them with my coat. “Ya one of those Hive loonies?” Now irritated, I opened my mouth to bark at her, but she waved a dismissive hand and strode off. “Feckin’ ops… a moment, bad man.”
She disappeared behind a curtain, muttering in her native tongue. Seeing my opportunity, I turned back to Danta. “Lemme explain.” I raised my hands, looking him in the eye. “Madame Grey ain’t your average filgia de butana. She’s a Drone, practically an unofficial Lieutenant ‘round these parts.” I dropped my voice. “Her girls ain’t just hos, they’re spies, sharks, dealers… whatever the hell she wants them to be. She’s had some… problemos, lately, that need to be dealt with.” I tilted my head at the elf, my expression serious. “Comprende, bandito?”

Words;; 615
Muse;; Not... bad? o.O
Thoughts;; Woo! Speedy posting strikes again!

[Elloria]

Josk chuckled quietly as Sali called Kieran a Hive loony. She had always had such a way with words. He watched her disappear behind a curtain, catching random phrases in her native tongue. She really had a colorful vocabulary, whether in the Broddring tongue or her own. His eyes darted around, taking note of the two other men in the room. He didn’t recognize either one as regulars of Sali’s shop. He kept his hood up just in case, hiding his elvish features. He would do well to keep careful track of their movements and not reveal his nature any time soon. Regulars or no, none of Sali’s customers were particularly trustworthy, not even Josk. Especially Josk.

His amusement dampened slightly as Kieran spoke to him again, looking Josk square in the eye. “Lemme explain. Madame Grey ain’t your average filgia de butana. She’s a Drone, practically an unofficial Lieutenant ‘round these parts.” His voice dropped. “Her girls ain’t just hos, they’re spies, sharks, dealers… whatever the hell she wants them to be. She’s had some… problemos, lately, that need to be dealt with. Comprende, bandito?” The serious look on Kieran’s face mellowed Josk somewhat. He still wasn’t pleased with the earlier insinuation and a whore was a whore, regardless of what useful information she might gather in the bedroom. But if this Madame Grey individual was a Drone, Josk couldn’t very well ignore the issue. And if she was what Kieran said she was, he’d probably lose his head if he didn’t help. Still...he really couldn’t muster up enough energy to overwhelm his general apathy towards the troubles of those outside of Malakian company.

Josk sighed in irritation. This little jaunt for Seithr oil was becoming more troublesome by the minute. He kept his voice nearly inaudible - trusting that Kieran still had the ears of an elf, even if he looked like a human - when he replied. His tone was still remarkably cold as he once again switched to his native tongue. “And what exactly do you expect me to do about it? I’m supposed to be here restocking my poison kit, not traipsing all over Ceunon looking for some filthy ingrate who’s bothering a panderer of sexual gratification.” The moment the words left his lips, however, a curious thought crossed his mind. His eyes became distant as he considered the poisoned knife nestled in his inner cloak pocket. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to go out of his way to help a fellow Drone - as unsavory and vile an individual as Madame Grey surely had to be. Perhaps whoever had stabbed Kieran in the gut with it was involved with the individual - or individuals - who was causing Grey “problemos.” And if that was so...

“On second thought...I might be able to aid you, after all.” He refocused his eyes on Kieran’s, mischief lending a dark glint to his gaze. “If I had good reason to, that is.” He waited patiently for Kieran’s reply. If the elf was as desperate for help as Josk suspected, he would probably give whatever Josk requested. Fortunately, he was a fairly reasonable elf - somewhat unstable, even he would admit that. But still reasonable.

[Emma]

The more I watched this Josk Danta, the more convinced I was that he wasn’t the average thug.

Elves were markedly more difficult to read than humans- despite their intelligence and flexibility, they were very emotionally reactive- but I could easily see that Danta was the type most people would desperately want on their good side. He was shifty, his strange eyes difficult to read, and he had connections. I wouldn’t be surprised if he clawed his way to Lieutenant in as little as a few years. At my words, he was obviously irritable, curling his lip and narrowing his eyes and letting out his breath in a heavy sigh. Clearly, the fact that Madame Grey was somewhat on his side didn’t quell his arrogance.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?” He hissed, now riled. “I’m supposed to be here restocking my poison kit, not traipsing all over Ceunon looking for some filthy ingrate who’s bothering a panderer of sexual gratification.”
I opened my mouth, more than prepared to bark at a smart-mouthed Drone, but his expression suddenly changed. His anger dissipated, and a self-satisfied smile adorned his lips once again. He looked at me with an unsavoury glint in his eye. “On second thought… I might be able to aid you, after all. If I had good reason to, that is.”

The more time I spent with this Drone, the less I was sure about trusting him. Beyond the obvious demand for money, or a good word put in with the Shrikes, he was going to get something else out of assisting me. I pressed my lips into a thin line, eyeing him squarely. I wasn’t worried about him undermining my authority- from the way he glared at every human we passed, he wasn’t interested in running a company based in Broddring. But he would undoubtedly become a Lieutenant within a given amount of time, and he’d remember today’s events- especially if he ran into Myaja. I had to be careful, now.

I was interrupted, however, by a loud shriek as Sali emerged from the back room, striking one of the customers’ faces. Clearly, he’d tried to lift one of her wares. After that slap on the hand, she stomped back to Danta and me, her arms full of clothes. I was happy to see that they were dark in colour, as I preferred, although the cloth was somewhat simple. She shoved them into my arms, wordlessly spun me around, and pushed me with surprising force towards the curtained room, glaring at Danta as she did so. Once there, half of my clothes disappeared, and Sali immediately rammed her hand in my coat pocket.

“The hell do ya think you’re-”
“It’s called payment, darlin’. These linens ain’t free!”

She pulled out two solid gold coins and gazed at them lovingly. Then she pocketed them, and got to work pulling me into my new clothes. They were deep navy in hue, and consisted of one tunic and one duster coat. Once she tugged them on, I snatched my old coat back from her with a death glare, reaching inside to take my remaining money and the stilettos I kept handy. Stuffing them into the one pocket of the duster, I carefully handed her back the coat and left. Pushing the curtain back- now I could see that it was brownish-yellow, and had probably used to be white- I left the small room.

“Oi!” Sali lifted up my old clothes. “The hell will I do with these?”
“Wash it, tailor it, and get back in the goddam kitchen with it.”

Rubbing my wrists where Sali had been forcefully gripping them, I listened to the swarm of vicious swear words the shopkeeper promptly flung at my back as I made my way out of the store, beckoning to Danta as I did. Once outside, and away from the harpy, I turned back to the Drone, my expression stony. After a moment, I spoke quietly.

“Name your price.”

Words;; 670
Muse;; SO RUSHED!
Thoughts;; Worst post of mine so far. >.>

[Elloria]

Josk allowed delight to soften his features as Sali forcefully shoved Kieran into a changing room. His outraged exclamation, followed by a softer murmur merely amused him even more. For a human, Sali was endlessly fascinating. In some ways, she reminded him of his mother. But there was a kindness under Sali’s gruff exterior - something his mother could probably never claim. He raised a delicate eyebrow in further amusement as Kieran stormed out from behind the curtain, dressed in a simple but tasteful navy tunic and duster cloak. Sali certainly knew how to pick proper attire, even if her material wasn’t the best.

“Oi!” Sali had followed Kieran out, holding up his old clothes. “The hell will I do with these?”

“Wash it, tailor it, and get back in the goddam kitchen with it.”

The resultant diatribe from Sali drew a musical laugh from the normally taciturn Josk. She moved to follow Kieran out of the shop, but he gently grasped her arm to stop her. Pulling three gold pieces from his pocket, he placed them in her hand and kissed her on the cheek. He succeeded in not wrinkling his nose in distaste. Sali, he knew, would not misread such an innocent gesture - it was simply nice to be appreciated and he didn’t want to cross her. “Thank you, dear Sali. You were helpful and a delight, as always.”

Leaving her sputtering, Josk followed Kieran out of the shop. He grinned at the hostile look on the other’s face. It was nothing compared to the death glares - and death threats - he was accustomed to at Malakian company. “Name your price.” His grin widened. What would his price be this time? Money, sex, a good word to the Shrikes? Something outrageous like a slave or simple as a new sword? His eyes brightened at a sudden thought.

“Simple. I want you to swear in the Ancient Language to support me - at my discretion - in any and all endeavors I ask you to in anyway I see fit. No questions asked and no attempts at betraying me before or after. It will be our little secret.” There really wasn’t anything simple about his request. But having the support of someone like Kieran would be a most valuable weapon in anyone’s arsenal. For an elf, it would be perfect for the Grand Game. For Josk...well, who knew what he might be able to use it for? The grin slipped from his face and he looked straight into Kieran‘s eyes with a simple and genuine earnestness. No malice. No trickery. Just the fervant hope that Kieran might accept. “What do you say?”