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<Kevil> ::Tarri's flat had some food stored in the pantry, but not enough to keep three grown men for long. Finally, still debating various plans, Kevil, Diya, and Orlann presented themselves for their food chits - and, necessarily, to be evaluated for useful work. Because Diya speaks so little Common, the orcs grudgingly kept him and Kevil together, sending the two of them to the docks, to help unload incoming ships.:: * Aeryn had already presented himself some time before, knowing that a half-elf of his coloring stood out anywhere. He had also been assigned to the docks. * Skolden is a medium sized orc with an unpleasant warty lump growing from one side of his face. He has stringy, limp reddish colored hair growing out of the top of his head and from inside his ears. His skin, a rancid shade of cheesy yellow, is blotched with patchy sections of unhealthy orange. He wears boiled leather armor and carries a knout. * Kevil hefts one end of a crate, wincing as another blister on his hand breaks, and nods to Diya before carrying it toward the ramp. <Diya> ::moving slowly backwards:: {Diya wonders what is in all these boxes.} * Skolden snaps his knout at their heels. "No talking!" * Aeryn gives the usual "One, two, three!" to the person on the other side of his crate, and follows the pair of them wordlessly. Not a difficult feat for him. * Kevil glares angrily at the overseer, his jaw working. * Aeryn looks at him silently, then turns his gaze towards the dry docks. <Aeryn> ::Aeryn looks the building over carefully as he steps backwards down the ramp:: * Kevil mutters unintelligibly under his breath as he and Diya resume their trip up the ramp. <Skolden> ::the inside of the ship is similar to most ships, except that it seems to have been recently refitted for orc-sized sailors. Careful inspection of some of the lines and sails reveal a certain tendency towards Sembian construction:: <Aeryn> ::placing his crate on the floor, Aeryn heads up the ramp again, keeping his eyes averted from the overseer:: <Aeryn> ::however one hand, hidden by his body, clenches momentarily into a fist as he passes the orc:: <Skolden> ::the orcs lounge along the deck, idly watching the laborers. A girl, no more than fifteen years old, has been pressed into serving duty and sniffles continuously as she carries around thick trays of dank beer and platters of meat and bread.:: * Kevil and Diya set the crate on the dock for the next team to load onto a waiting wagon. Kevil pauses before heading back below, casting the girl a sympathetic look and inspecting the damage on his hands. <Diya> ::turning Kevil's hand over to look:: {Diya thinks heartwing might not want to play for a few days while this heals.} ::he keeps his voice low and looks around cautiously:: <Kevil> ::snorts:: {If I still have hands *left* by the time this is through...} * Aeryn brings the next crate along with his human partner, and his head turns at the sound of the two talking. <Aeryn> ::catching a glimpse of Kevil's hands, his eyes widen momentarily:: <Aeryn> ::although it's clear by the look on his face that he didn't understand what was said:: * Diya nudges Kevil with one elbow. * Kevil catches his fellow-laborer's look and gives him a shrug and a wry smile. "It is not the sort of work I am used to, d'va?" He looks back at Diya. {What?} * Aeryn sets his crate down again. "Neither me." * Aeryn turns his hands palm-up to display calloused palms. "But I have lived in the forest. She is a harder taskmaster." <Aeryn> ::without another word, he heads back up the ramp, eyes on the decking:: * Kevil sucks on a broken blister and spits, then sighs and heads back below-decks to collect another crate. <Skolden> ::on deck, the orcs are delighting in making sport with the servant girl, pushing her towards the others and pulling her hair to make her squeal. They are laughing harshly:: * Kevil stops at the edge of the ramp and turns to look at the laughing orcs, his face darkening. * Aeryn stops, face going tight. <Diya> ::putting his hand on Kevil's shoulder:: {Heartwing...} * Aeryn mutters something under his breath in the elven tongue. It doesn't sound polite. * Skolden gives the reluctant laborers a nice hard shove down the gangplank. Kevil is sent sprawling to his hands and knees, tearing out great gashes in his trousers. "Stop gawkin' an' get back to work!" * Aeryn grabs Kevil's arm, and helps him to his feet, turning him away from the orcs as he does so. <Aeryn> this is not the time, or the place! ::muttered:: {stupid humans!} <Kevil> ::jumps to his feet with a snarl:: *Fethi.* ::his hands curl into fists and he pulls free from Aeryn's hand to start toward the overseer:: * Aeryn grabs Kevil's hand, and says to him in an undertone, "You would endanger all that you seek to protect!" <Aeryn> ::his tone is hard:: <Diya> ::makes a grab for his circle-mate:: {Heartwing, no... Diya does not think heartwing can help, here.} * Aeryn considers applying leverage, but doesn't want to risk it. <Aeryn> ::nor does he want to start a fight with what appears to be a decent man:: * Kevil relents and falls back, closing his eyes briefly before shaking off both of them and stalking back down into the ship's hold. * Diya turns to the stranger and nods once, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "Diya thanks... he is sorry, Diya cannot speak well." His common is halting and badly enunciated. <Aeryn> You speak well enough to be understood, man of the desert * Aeryn follows Kevil. Once they are beyond the overseer's eye, he says softly, "You have kin hostage?" * Diya tags along behind, shaking his head. His black eyes are both sorrowful and angry and he turns his back reluctantly on the woman on deck, who is now sobbing in harsh, braying gasps. * Kevil is behind a stack of crates, leaning where the overseer can not see him easily. He nods. "Our wife and daughters. Only babes..." His eyes close again, and he sighs deeply. "Thank you. It has been... a long time since my temper has been so sorely tried, over such terrible stakes." * Aeryn looks directly at Kevil. "Attacking one of those orcs would be suicide, and would not save the girl. Should you actually manage to kill one of them, you would not only damn yourself, but likely also the ones you seek to protect." <Aeryn> ::he turns as if to go back to work:: <Diya> ::looking frustrated as the conversation goes over and around him:: {Heartwing, Diya thinks he must become serious about learning to speak Oriole's language. He cannot help heartwing like this...} <Kevil> ::nods wearily:: I know. ::he offers Aeryn his hand:: Kevil Talarin. I am a Master Bard, or was... ::he smiles wryly before nodding to Diya:: This is Diya Nabihazan, a Ranger, and my husband. <Kevil> ::grins at Diya:: {You, serious? I am not convinced.} * Aeryn looks at Diya with respect as he takes Kevil's hand. "A ranger of the desert? Truly?" <Aeryn> I did not know that such existed. <Diya> ::nods slowly:: Diya is... yes, a Ranger. <Kevil> ::turns his grin on Aeryn:: Not a desert you have heard of, I am certain. It took the magic of the Tower to bring him here. <Aeryn> Well-met in any case, brother of the shifting sands. Masters of their terrain are few. <Aeryn> Now, however, we must return to work, lest the overseer become suspicious. * Aeryn hefts a crate with the help of one of the townsmen and begins to leave the hold <Kevil> ::glares in the overseer's direction, but shrugs and follows Aeryn back out and takes up a position on one side of a crate, flexing his damaged hands:: Have you a name? <Aeryn> I am known as Aeryn among those who choose to call me friend. <Skolden> ::the orcs have tired of their sport and are mostly leaving the girl alone, who is crawling around on the deck picking up bits of broken crockery. She looks up as the workers pass her and offers Kevil a helpless, tight smile:: * Kevil gives the girl a sympathetic look and makes a helpless gesture with one hand. * Aeryn appears to ignore the girl, but the skin under his fingernails go white. <Aeryn> ::his gaze is directed to the dry dock again:: <Kevil> ::under his breath, so the orcs cannot hear:: Have you loved ones among the hostages, as well? <Aeryn> No, I do not. For that, I thank {the Goddess}. <Skolden> ::it is not much longer before the crews are broken down for lunch. Lunch is a completely unappetizing bowl of watery meat stew with rice and vegetables, but there is nothing else. The crews are separated into small groups and allowed to sit and stretch for a short time:: <Aeryn> ::softly to Kevil as he eats:: I have been considering the building they placed the hostages. * Kevil eats quickly, with the air of a man taking unpleasant medicine, and stretches his tired limbs briefly before moving in to a much more elaborate set of exercises for his hands and wrists. He eyes Aeryn, then looks fixedly back at his hands. "Have you? And what have you considered of it, Sir Aeryn?" <Aeryn> ::glances at Kevil's blistered hands:: I have something that may help that, with my equipment. And I believe the building to be much like a fortress, build to keep the water out. <Diya> ::absently eating with the air of a man simply keeping the system fueled, he looks up into the bright summery sky, his eyes watching the circling flight of a raven:: <Kevil> ::looks at Diya and follows his gaze upward, smiling faintly, then nods to Aeryn:: So it would seem. Does this observation lead you any insight? * Aeryn gives a small smile. "Yes, it did indeed." He finishes his food and places the bowl carefully by his feet. <Kevil> And? <Aeryn> I believe that it would be quite difficult for anyone to get in, if it was guarded well. <Kevil> ::darkly:: Yes. So it would be. * Aeryn looks at Kevil, and a grin spreads slowly across his face. With his coloring, it makes him look positively evil. <Aeryn> You don't see it, do you? * Kevil is apparently undisturbed by Aeryn's grin. "I fear not. My wits have been dulled, I fear, by recent events. Please, elucidate." <Aeryn> Well, as long as they've got those people hostage, none of us can do anything. <Aeryn> But they went to all that trouble providing us with a nice place to defend them from <Aeryn> all we have to do is steal it off them. <Kevil> ::raises an eyebrow:: They must have dozens of guards on those walls, Sir Aeryn. How do you propose *stealing* it? * Aeryn raises an eyebrow. "Pick one--stealth, misdirection, invisibility, illusion, poison..." <Aeryn> Details, I'll admit, that I have not yet fully thought through. <Aeryn> One thing remains certain, though--as long as they control that building, we can do nothing. <Diya> ::raises one eyebrow as he sees a slim figure skulking around the crates:: {Diya thinks heartwing has won another admirer...} <Kevil> That is true. But there are - as you admit - a great many details to consider in removing that control from them.... ::he looks up at Diya's tone, then follows his gaze:: <Sorrla> ::the girl, a bruise smudging one side of her face, creeps up to them quietly:: Sir? <Kevil> ::gently:: Sit with us, please, Lady. I hope you will not take it amiss that we can offer but rough hospitality. * Aeryn turns his back on the girl quietly, not wanting to scare her with his dark elf-like looks. <Sorrla> ::sitting near Kevil's feet:: I... ::she lowers her eyes:: They know I won't be sneakin' off. They're holdin' my sister and mum with them. ::she glances up at him:: <Kevil> ::nods sympathetically:: There are precious few in Marsember, I think, who are not held by threat to some loved one. <Aeryn> ::quietly, as if to himself:: {I can offer my sympathy, but nothing more} <Aeryn> {not as of yet} * Aeryn glances at the dry dock once again, and his eyes go hard. * Kevil glances at Aeryn, then looks back at the girl. He brushes his fingers down the side of her face, not quite touching her bruise. "May we help you in some way, Lady?" <Sorrla> ::shakes her head:: I don't... ::shyly:: You seem kind... an' I thought maybe you had a sister or one who was held. I'd... take a message, for you, iffen you wanted. <Kevil> ::raises both eyebrows in surprise:: You have a way in? <Sorrla> ::nods slowly:: I c'n get in... they been countin' heads, so there's no way to get someone *out* without earning their chain a beatin', but... a message, something small... can be done. <Kevil> ::tightly, trying not to show his excitement:: Could you get others in? Show someone the way? * Aeryn half-turns. <Aeryn> ::a gleam of something undefinable dances in his eyes:: * Aeryn gives Kevil a level look, then goes back to counting sentries. <Sorrla> ::shrugs, looking out over the river:: I don't... want to put no one in harm's way... let 'm forget about it. Maybe... in a few weeks, they won't be quite payin' so much attention. <Kevil> ::grins tightly at Aeryn, and speaks in soft elvish:: {Details, my friend... details.} <Aeryn> ::surprised look:: <Aeryn> {You speak elvish??} <Kevil> ::grins:: {I have a gift for tongues.} ::he looks back at the girl:: We are all already in harm's way, Lady. Please, help us... * Aeryn puts a light hand on Kevil's shoulder. {No, she has a point. Give them a little more time to get complacent...maybe not as much as a week, but a little more time.} <Sorrla> ::looking between the men:: I c'n take a message, if you want... but don't ask no more... not yet... I... my mum's ill and... * Aeryn starts to get up. "I am sure you will want some privacy for your message." <Kevil> ::glances between Aeryn and Sorrla, then nods:: Not yet, then. A message... <Kevil> ::he half-smiles at Aeryn:: There is little I would say in such a manner that cannot be overheard. <Aeryn> Very well. ::he sits again:: * Aeryn resumes his scrutiny of the dry docks. <Kevil> ::to Sorrla:: My wife's name is Loria. She will have with her two infant girls, twins, with hair like mine. Please, tell her that we are safe and well, and miss her terribly. That I have spoken to the Mother, but that the time is not yet ripe, d'va? ::he pauses:: Also, in her chain, I assume, would be a young woman with blonde hair, and another with black. Tarri, and Meghan. Give them also my affection. And tell Mistress Tarri that her man is well. She will be worried, I think. <Sorrla> ::nodding:: Tarri and Loria and Meghan. I will tell them... ::she looks over her shoulder:: I should go, afore they miss me... <Aeryn> {...with speed of wind and strength of oak...} <Kevil> ::nods:: Lady... If they rotate the work-areas, and you do not see me again... You may leave word at the Meade Hall for me, d'va? Say that your message is for Talarin. <Sorrla> ::eyes the elf cautiously, then drops a quick curtsey to him:: Yes. Talarin. I'll remember it. ::greatly daring, she leans forward and kisses Kevil's cheek, then nearly sprints back to the ship:: <Aeryn> ::with more humor than he's shown so far:: You know, I think she likes you... <Diya> ::snorts:: They always like heartwing... <Kevil> I could hardly be a step *down* from the company she is currently forced to keep. ::he laughs softly:: Even Lisl could not disagree with *that*. <Skolden> ::the bells ring over the docks again with their toneless clatter, calling the work crews back to their shifts:: |
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