Hayu shrugs. “I can’t give you absolution. And anyway, I’m not the person you need to be asking it of. What I can tell you is that sometimes our choices are kill or be killed, and you might want to sort out what your answer to that one is going to be, real quick, because if you spend too much time thinking it over, a lot of other people – some you might even care about – could die first.” She’s not a soldier, but soldiers tell stories, especially those ones drinking to forget. That hesitation, that doubt, can get so many more people hurt. Sometimes getting brutal, doing the unthinkable is the only way to save people. That one she knows personally.
It’s not just that, however. She knows from hard experience not to trust someone with Thwip’s finger-pointing attitude when in a tight spot. He’s precisely the kind of whiner that turns into a rat, when the heat gets on. Until he demonstrates that he’s an exception to that rule, she won’t rely on him at her shoulder.
A soldier that can’t fight. In the taverns, they have names for that: Raven-banquet, bottom-corpse. He might as well be working for the other side. The whiny ones like Thwip sometimes get help getting that way.
Get hard or go home, she thinks. Those are the only options in this world. He just better figure it out fast.
Thwip studies her for a few seconds. Dislike barely suppressed. He gestures to the horizon once more and then continues his walk in silence.
– Great. I’m stuck with a pinkie stereotype. I’ll have to count my fingers after she leaves. I don’t trust the other pinkie as far as I can toss him as his arrival was far too convenient, but I hope he makes good with his promises. At least the dwarf is amusing. –
Thwip is unaware of the momentous change in his attitude as he casually forgot to refer to the dwarf by the Goblin slur of “thumb”. Despite being mentored by the dwarven archmage Eyegouger he was never taught to not do that. Though painfully learning the lesson as an adult on his first day in Megalos.
Eyegouger was a dwarf who enjoyed mental sparring far more than most and the use of slurs was part of his arsenal. He was always happy when a new one was used on him. “Hah! I’ll remember that one!” he’d say. Most everyone in the village dismissed it as another strange thing foreigners do and took little offense at it. No one ever discovered that Eyegouger arrived at their village due to being exiled from his Circle for “being a rude fucking asshole”.
Ranar moves aside to give room as Eoin falls back alongside him. As the man speaks, he begins to stroke his beard, looks up and nods with unexpected respect. The man looked a bit like a soldier, but spoke wisdom instead of the expected small-talk banter or boasting typical of guards. That was a bit unexpected. “Aye, ye got that right. Thank ye for that, friend.” A small smile was the best he could do. Perhaps to help the goblin would help to help himself.
Straightening up and picking up the pace a bit, he soon caught up with Thwip, who still seemed a bit upset. He took a few deep breaths, encouraging himself, both wanting and not wanting to talk about the past. Just as he cleared his throat to start to speak, he looked up to see the trading post up ahead. Relieved, he dropped that line of thought and improvised another.
Speaking quietly, “I think ye should take lead up here. Plenty of people there and… the new crew needs a leader to follow, an’ to bring ‘em together. You can do that, an’ you’re right for this.”
“I’d advise tho to keep it quick and go straight to the dock. Still doesn’t feel safe here.”
Eoin gives Ranar a nod and returns his smile as the dwarf collects himself and moves up to the others. He follows just a step or two behind.
He waits a moment or two as they quietly speak.
“Just a moment before we head in there, if you would,” he says raising a hand. “You two have got elven assassins on yer tail, she’s got a bunch of pissed off guardsmen, and we make a… distinctive group.” He looks meaningfully between the injured gobiln and beardless dwarf with their unique weapons, the ragged thief and the armoury of expensive weaponry tied to the horse.
“We might want to make it a little less easy for them to figure out where we’re headed, maybe take a moment to make ourselves less memorable.” he takes a moment to size up the group.
The girl would make the easiest start, hair short enough to be mistaken for a young boy at a glance. That and different set of clothes…
"Fer instance, the guards. Who’ve likely sent word or a rider or two here already if they’re still on the hunt, are looking for a two dwarves, one beardless, an injured goblin and a beggar-girl… not say a merchant man’s son and his bodyguard, who enter town not long after a dwarf and an uninjured goblin trader who run into another dwarf by the docks"
Caught up in thought, he checks on a couple of details of his hatching plan before anyone can weigh in. He turns to Hayu…
“Now, have you got anything else to wear?” Then looking over at Sasha, "and can you sneak any? "
Thwip nods. “Splittink up seems like a goodt idea t’ me. Ifin I recall correctly tese ships might haff some berts fir us t’s sleep in. Tho tere’ no sayingk how minny off us kin go togeter. Meebee two separate parties tat meet doon river?”
Thwip then waves at the horse before addressing Sasha and Eoin, making it obvious he’s not including Hayu in this, “T’ stable master wouldt recogknize me and Ranar and wouldt want t’ know about his missingk hosses. I tink one off yi shouldt leaf tis mount tere instead off us.”
A recent memory pops up;
Thwip tries to think of something else to say. Something leaderly. He searches his memory for examples from the books he read as a child.
– How would Sea Captain Pikard of the HHS Outer Prize handle this? And should I start asking for ‘Honey mead. Hot.’ at the inns? –
Then something strikes him. Yes. Being too memorable might be a problem beyond being a motley crew. Asking Ranar, “I don’t no much aboot dungeon loot. Meebee yi walkink in wit a bag full off swords might make yi more noticeable tan we need?”
He glances at Hayu.
– I don’t know if this is going to be a good suggestion. She’ll probably run off with it and pawn it for a few drinks. But maybe that’d be a good thing. –
“Meebee we kin split t’ weapons and armor between us?”
“Hmm… Could be, an’ if ye think that’s the way, I’ll back ye on it. 'Twould make things a bit easier.”
“But multiple groups of travelers passin’ through about the same time, who each happen to have extra weaponry, of similar origin, might be more suspicious than, say… a merchant or courier delivering some custom-made weapons downriver while some unrelated groups o’ people happen to be around.”
He shrugs. “But you’re right that we might need some explanation. With Eoin’s idea that you’re a trader and Hayu’s a merchant’s son, could cover either way. They look less conspicuous. Maybe better for them to have ‘em. But for a goblin trader with a dwarf companion to have a batch o’ weapons might be what people’d expect. Either way could work. Which do you want to try?”
“That’s all well and good, unless they’re on the lookout for the weapons. Then it won’t matter what you’re dressed as or how few of them you have on you. Or that ring, if they’re tracking it with some sort of spell… Has anyone checked that out?” She doubts it. Basic precautions don’t seem to be Ranar or Thwip’s strong suits. Anybody with half a brain knows that the first thing to do with distinctive hot goods is to make them less distinctive.
“You.” She points at Eoin. “You look like the most normal of us. If you could get some charcoal and some brick clay, you could make these look a little less unique.” Not to mention less tempting to every footpad and two-bit throat slitter with no ability to resist temptation. For someone who claims to abhor violent situations, these guys do an awfully good job of inviting them. “Canvas to wrap them in might help, too… Or a crate if you can lay your hands on one.” Tabernac. These guys left a couple of pieces behind at the battle site, and it’s all of a set. How they’re not dead yet, she hasn’t a clue. “You really don’t want to be flashing these around, as is. Trust me on that. And you definitely want to be well away, before you even think of unloading them.”
For the first time since Eoin appeared at the campsite there’s a crack in his affable veneer. He shoots Hayu a look of exasperation that all but screams ‘do you think I’m bloody thick?’
Credit where credit is due. They were good points to raise, once you mop up the condescension dripping from them, he thinks.
“First, good catch on the ring. Except, there’s fuck all we can do about that right now. So, unless you forgot to mention being a mage who can magic up some sort of ward, or containment box, let’s concentrate on what we can do.”
He pulls the blanket and bedroll from the top of his pack and set’s it aside, and rummages through his pack. He pulls out a wooden box as he continues to speak.
“Right. I was thinking of sorting us out first, but since you bring up the weapons…”
“There’s five of us, and most of us set out intending to travel so that’s at least four blankets. And I have rope, that should be enough to wrap the weapons up so they’re not easily identified. Or at least its worth a shot before jumping to wandering back and forth between here and the trading post - The less of that the better.”
He flicks a couple of latches and opens the box. The lid scissors up to revel a couple of small shelves, filled with brushes, pottles of make-up and paints of various fleshy hues, and a couple of other odds and ends.
“Let’s see if that works, then l’ll either fetch some clay and charcoal or see what I do with making us less us…”
Thwip’s neck is getting sore from nodding sagely as he listens to all of the options.
“Disguizes fir us all. Andt dirtying up some off t’ weapons and armar. Ten wrappingk t’ rest fir a goblin courier wit his two dwarfen bodyguardts. Meanwhile an otter trader and his boy-childt arrifes from t’ otter side off town to find rest fir tere hoss tat was injured by centar raiders and fir a way t’ ship tere remaining merchandise. Yes. Tis might all work.”
Straightening up in as commanding a pose as possible, he gestures with a pointing hand at the uncaring trading post. “Make it happen.”
– Wait, I don’t think that was how he said it in the Sea Trek books. I’ll have to look that up when we get to the library. –
And this is why she doesn’t work with men. Point out one flaw in their “brilliant” plan, and they get pissy because you somehow didn’t magically make them think of it first. How dare she as a female have anything other than awe at their greatness, let alone presume to be on equal intellectual footing.
Well, fine. Let them find out the hard way when they’re asked to unwrap the canvas only to show off the gleaming, ornate contents. He may think he’s not stupid, but Hayu knows for a fact that customs agents aren’t. They’re bureaucrats to be certain, but they’ll at least want a cursory glance at any bundles headed out, lest there be contraband or something worthy of an export tax.
She turns to Sasha. So far, other than his insistence on calling her “thief” he hasn’t shown hostility at her presence, unlike everyone else. “My apologies, Ser DeStijl,” she bows slightly to him, “but it appears that your Fate may have been mistaken. I am not welcome here, and my God knows me better than that.” Better, she thinks, to chance things in her customary solitude, than risk one of these others sticking a blade in her back. A town this size will have places she can hide that the others might not be welcome, and she can think of a better disguise than that of a merchant’s son. All well and good for Eoin to suggest she play the part of a boy; he won’t be the one on the hook for blasphemy if they’re caught.
Nor will she stay where her help isn’t wanted. That only leads to debts and debts have a nasty habit of requiring repayment when it’s least affordable. No. Either they accept her as an equal, or she’ll make her own way. So far, she hasn’t seen much in the way of acceptance.
Shouldering her meagre possessions, she starts out to scout the town. A place like this always has at least one unguarded entrance, and at least one sanctuary where she might well find what she needs.
“Well, if you’ve got any skill with sneaking, sure. That’s why I asked. But I don’t th…”
Ah, shit, he thinks as Hayu shoulders her pack and goes to leave, I definitely overreacted. "…nk we… all do."
Eoin sets aside his preparations, and quickly follows on trying to get her attention… He realises midway through speaking he never caught her name, if she said it at all. “Hey… you.”
"Look, you were right about the weapons. I probably wouldn’t have thought of that until I reached the docks.
He offers a self-deprecating grin. “That’s the trouble with relying on a fast mouth.”
“Honestly, I don’t think anyone in that group has any experience with this kind of thing,” he says speaking quieter, " I wasn’t expecting any solid suggestions, so it took a moment for my head to catch up with my mouth when someone offered one.",
“If they get themselves caught, it makes things harder on both of us. So, another set of eyes that actually knows what they’re doing here would be appreciated.”
“And besides, they’re giving me the horse to take into town. And assuming it’s not branded, and there’s time, the “Fiddle game” takes two people…”
Thwip moves in to inspect Eoins disguise kit the second the human steps away from it. It is a new thing to him and his core of deep curiosity overrides any possible rudeness that comes from taking out a burning glass and inspecting things up close. He is careful to not touch anything. Eyegouger, for all of his personality faults, was very big on the concept of “in situ”.
– Did he get that shade of red from grinding up Betel Beetles? They do stain your teeth if you drink enough of the tea. –
He calls over to Eoin and Hayu as he stares at the tools, “Are yi decidin on how best t’ get tem weapons dirtied up? Mebee some combinayshon off both yir approaches wouldt work. Kin yi make a jewel look like it’s made off paste? Or mebee add a paste jewel?”
While the others argue, Ranar stands back and talks quietly to the horse, petting her neck. She looks toward the others and blows a whoosh of air from her nose. “I dunno. It’s just what people do. Not all that different though, you horses bicker too when there’s a bunch of you together. I wonder, are you from this land or a traveler like us?” She lets out a bored sigh and starts to eat some grass.
He scans the horizon, gazes up and downriver, and observes the trading post, gauging the activity level. “I wonder how many others pass through here on a day like today.” A stifled chuckle. “And how many odd groups like us.”
“Teach your grandmother…” she mumbles. If he’s so much of an expert, he would have thought of this earlier. Those two might as well have been setting off great magical fireworks, with the amount of attention grabbing things they’ve done. And who elected him leader, anyway?
Otherwise ignoring Thwip, she continues to study the town. No walls, but guards can’t be everywhere at once. “Rumour might help,” she says, half to Eoin and half to nobody. “Drop a hint or two 'bout a dead horse and some drag marks like someone was trying to move something heavy… Or maybe we passed a small group that was bickering that they didn’t want to come back to Tredroy on account of troubles.” She doesn’t even notice she used ‘we’ instead of ‘you’. “Vague enough to raise interest, but not suspicion.” It wouldn’t hurt that there’d be some truth to it. She still guesses that Thwip and Ranar are the ones with the biggest targets painted on them: more than likely, she was just a convenient poor stranger to pin something on, and she doubts the surviving guards got a really good look at Sasha during the heat of battle. Eoin, like her, just had a bad case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’. Thwip and Ranar are the dopes that signed onto the mysterious job, have professional assassins stalking them (if the story is to be believed) and have been packing around the relics they stole, along with that ring, which is probably leading said assassins straight to them. “Câlisse de tabernac.” The stupidity is painful. She should have taken her chances with the guards. She’s met novice nuns who were less naive. And if she has to listen to any more ‘woe is me’ tales from someone bemoaning the fact that he’s used the most weapony weapon she’s ever seen and hurt someone… Well, he’ll get a chance to prove his dedication to pacifism when she chokes him into silence.
Unconsciously, she runs her thumb over the end of her right pinky and it’s missing joint. Goblin boy is lucky that he’s never met someone like Sister Therèse. Or maybe she’s lucky she did. After all, Therèse taught her an important lesson: sometimes people could be mad, like dogs. Sometimes there’s only one way to save the sheep.
“Aye, we could plant a story or two easily enough…” Eoin nods “…for now, you deal with the weapons and I sort this lot? Take what you need from the kit if it’ll help.”
“We got it sorted,” he says to Thwip, as he gestures to him to move around to the otherside of the box “And who would you like to be today?” he asks with a grin. Definitely easier to get started on a more willing subject.
He selects a brush, and holds pottles up to Thwips face until he finds a suitable match then gets to work. Without pausing, he lays out his argument to the reluctant dwarf.
“Now Sasha, as I was saying… it’s easy enough to get by a guard, if you’re sneaky. But it’s not just the guards we need to worry about. Anyone who sees a beardless dwarf is going to talk about it, which is going to be a right give away. Because I’ve only ever seen one beardless dwarf in my life.”
Eoin gently turns Thwips head to one side, as he applies some shading to the goblin’s cheekbone.
“So, what’s the objection? Any we can we work around it? Coz the way I see it, there’s two paths here. Either we disguise a beardless dwarf, or a beardless dwarf finds a way to make himself scarcer than a slaver’s mercy until we get to Hadaton.”
“I care not what you do to others but you will not touch me, I have nothing to hide. We were attacked by heavily armed bandits far from town and we defended ourselves.”
“Heathen, do you know which way we need to go? We might send Thief to see if there is passage for us. I am trusting no-one here is chasing you, Thief?”