Rove
Fool’s Point, The Grasping Isle
[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/876104022833127448/1113571702157349005/zoltan-tasi-HTpAIzZRHvw-unsplash.jpg?width=669&height=468]
By Zoltan Tasi, Unsplash
Soon after Sneak got that warbled mess he called a mind back, Rove found himself in front of the palisade of Fool’s Point. It was one of the smaller towns on the Isle, although it did function as a crucial stop and refuelling point for ships sailing towards Handport. Fool’s Point was one big trade hub, with storage buildings outnumbering the houses and inns. The houses were made of wood and were quite small, while the storage buildings were stone and made to be as sturdy as possible. Rove knew most of them would be guarded at all times. Rove had taken a few jobs here in the past, although he wasn’t a big fan of the work they had on offer. More often than not it wound down to pulling dull guard duty for days on end. Every merchant thought their cargo was the most precious load of all time, so the demand for hiring the best Herhors was high.
To make matters even more conflicting, they had the coin to make it worthwhile. The people here were willing to lay down many hands for decent help. It was one of the reasons that he tended to stay clear of this place. Before he knew it, he could be tempted into another three weeks of sitting on a stool outside of a warehouse full of scented wood. He sighed as he remembered his dealings with Brenstead here. The old man was a glowing example of a merchant’s guile.
As he reminisced on days past, the others waited for him patiently. He was the local here, after all. Technically, Sneak would also count as a local. But getting coherent information from him was still as difficult as persuading a flying arrow to turn around.
Over the last two days, the last of his wounds had closed up nicely and he was very close to full strength again. The speed of his recovery under Ayuen’s and Triëste’s care was breathtakingly quick. Wielding Stormgrinder again wouldn’t be much of a problem. Not that he expected Fool’s Point to harbour any large threats to their wellbeing, but there was no harm in being careful. He might have mellowed out a little bit after everything that happened, but he was still a Herhor.
With a short nod, Rove indicated that he was happy to go inside the bustling town. They made their way through the busy streets, carts and boots clattering on the rough cobblestone around them.
Ayuen popped up beside him, leaning forward with a curious tingle in her eyes. She had pulled up her hood and cloak, hiding the majority of her Pyrn features.
“So, Rove. This colleague of yours, Mearn. Is she as skilled as you in the ways of the blade?” Her eyes focussed on a courier running by, a huge pack full of colourful fabric on his back.
Shaking his head, Rove led the group across one of the bustling marketplaces.
“Not really. Mearn prefers more stealthy methods. Traps and misdirection, seduction and bartering, that sort of stuff. Do not make the mistake of underestimating her though. She’s got some major skills.”
Trïeste raised an eyebrow. “You sure we can trust her? That description reminds me a bit of myself, sadly enough. Minus the seduction part.”
He shot a glare at the alchemist. “Herhors are a closely knit people. We are bound by both comradery and honour. Mearn is no exception.”
Bringing a fist up to where his heart was, he bumped his chest twice.
“You’ve got my word that she’ll be trustworthy. If you can stand her is another matter entirely. She has quite an ‘interesting’ personality.”
A smirk formed on Trïeste’s face as her voice lowered into a sarcastic murmur. “If I can stand your proud face for a couple o’ weeks, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle her for a couple o’ days.”
The comment made Sneak snort in laughter, the madman’s teeth glimmering in the sun.
“Even Sneak can only stand Rove for seven days, two hours and thirty seconds more.”
Damn it. Annoyed, Rove harshly bumped his shoulder into theirs as the port came into view. Stopping in his tracks, he motioned to the ships lying in the harbour.
“We’re here. If we’re lucky, Mearn should be on one of these ships. If memory serves, we’re looking for a Jiyt ship with ochre sails and a red-ish flag.”
After some more bickering, they split up the party. Ayuen and Rove took the northern part of the harbour and Trïeste and Sneak scouted out the southern part.
----------------------------------------
He was glad he was rid of Trïeste for a little bit. Ayuen and he hadn’t been the only ones that loosened up over time. The Herhor didn’t trust the alchemist fully, with her betrayal still lingering in the back of his head. His dealing with his family did put things into perspective. Even his own mother had stabbed him in the back after all. Oh, how he wished that he could stride into her abode and pay her back for all the hurt she’d done to her family. But alas, he had other things to do. His eyes patiently scanned the boats, Ayuen at his side.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
After a couple of minutes, an elbow in his side alerted him to the fact that the poet had sharper sights than he did today.
“Rove, would that be the vessel we’re looking for?” Ayuen pointed at the nearest ship with a slender finger. And there it was, bobbing on the water without a worry in the world. On the deck, he could see two sailors engrossed in what was undoubtedly a world-shattering awe-inspiring game of cards. No sign of Mearn on the deck though.
“That’s the one. Let’s see if we can find our woman onboard.”
Ayuen had just opened her mouth to respond when Rove raised his voice and shouted.
“MEARN! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE, YOU SHORT-SKIRTED FLABBER MOUTH!” His roar bellowed over the docks, practically knocking over the two card players on the boat in front of them. The look on their faces was priceless. With one eyebrow raised all the way, Ayuen cleaned out her large ears demonstratively, the appendages twitching underneath her hood.
“Was that really necessary, Rove? It’s not like that is going to work if she’s not around.”
“Oh, she’s there. If this boat is here, she is.”
“You have no way to be sure of that, you sword-loving fool.”
“Just wait, just don’t get your wings and nipples in a twist.”
Puffing a strand of hair out of her face, the woman looked at him with a huff. Nonetheless, she waited as she tapped her foot on the wooden dock below them. He didn’t pay it any mind, waiting patiently with his eyes unwaveringly focused on the ship. And sure enough, after about a minute of waiting, a familiar brown hairdo popped out from below the deck. Two sharp eyes looked around before focusing and locking in on him. A huge grin seized Mearn’s face as she walked on deck, gesturing to the two sailors that everything was alright. The two men shrugged and returned to their game of cards.
The female Herhor walked to the rail, nimbly jumping over it and sailing two meters down towards the dock like a jumping cat. She hit the wood with a soft thud, rising in front of them to look at him and his companion. Her eyes glimmered slyly, her grin widening to almost freaky proportions. Mearn gave him a sneaky glance, wiggling her eyebrows.
“That’s quite the good catch you’ve got there, Rove. I’m impressed.” She complimented him, her voice a low purr.
The cheeky remark brought a smile to his face, rolling his eyes. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ayuen’s cheeks brighten up a bit and the woman averting her eyes from Mearn.
“Subtle as always, I see.” He responded dryly. “Even an avalanche would be ashamed of your bashfulness, Mearn.”
She dashed forward with that trademark nimbleness of hers, trying to playfully elbow him in the gut. The female Herhor would’ve succeeded too. If he wouldn’t have known her for years. With practised ease, he blocked her attack with an elbow of his own.
A few more exchanges followed while Ayuen looked on. After a couple of mutually fruitless attacks, both he and Mearn burst out laughing, clapping each other on the shoulder. Ayuen just shook her head while she looked on, her expression unreadable to him.
“You Herhors have some very peculiar habits and customs.” She commented. “Does everyone do this?”
“Only the fun ones,” Mearn replied, playfully punching Rove’s shoulder before walking over to Ayuen. “And I count myself as a fun one. This bloody job gets way too boring otherwise.”
The brunette offered her hand to the red-haired poet. “The name’s Mearn, Herhor’s my trade. I’ve had the ill luck of knowing this lump of pride for a couple of years.”
Ayuen accepted the hand, giving Mearn a small smile in return. “My name is Ayuen. I hired Rove a while back and we ended up here after the job was done. Long story.”
Mearn’s eyes widened. “Hold up. You’re travelling with Rove but he’s not under any contract?” She whipped her head around to look at Rove.
“Rove without a contract? Oh, I see what you’re doing, Rove! You sly dog. You absolute sneakster. You conniving scoundrel.”
Indignation and a tingle of embarrassment flashing through him, he opened his mouth to retort. And then closed it again without rebutting her comments. No matter what his reply was, it wouldn’t change the idea Mearn now had in her head. Instead, he opted to just shrug, roll his eyes and not say anything.
Mearn’s eyes twinkled with mischievous mirth as she turned back to Ayuen. “So, Ayuen, what kind of job did this guy force a contract on?”
The Pyrn shot him a look, her eyes twinkling for a moment as the poet’s smile got warmer and more genuine. Oh no. He opened his mouth to answer in Ayuen’s stead, but the poet was faster, putting the back of her hand against her forehead.
“I’ll say that this man forced me into the vilest of contracts. He dared to charge many hands for the privilege to escort this beautiful lady towards Tinkersong to visit her nephew. After strong-arming himself into my service, we travelled long days and only had short nights. Horses foaming at the mouth and his rough voice barking orders every single minute. It was horrible. And he didn’t even give me a proper shoulder rub at the campfires along the way, the brute! Can you imagine?”
Ayuen wandered close to him, the wings underneath her cloak brushing against him.
Oh, Arals be damned. Looking around, he noticed some workers looking at him with clear disdain and jealousy. Damn it! Another addition to the local rumour mill was the last thing he needed.
“Look...,” He began. But he didn’t get any further before Mearn theatrically slapped her hand before her mouth.
“My word!” She exclaimed. “How dare he charge such a beautiful maiden such as yourself so much gold?”
With her other hand on her sword, she swirled around to him.
“How could you, Rove? I expected better from a Herhor of your calibre!”
For a moment, he felt the violent urge to pick both of them up and throw them into the water and make a fool out of them. But with this many people watching, he had to make do with taking a deep breath and imagining it within his mind. The two women shot each other a victorious glance. Partly annoyed and partly impressed, he silently vowed he’d get even with both.
“Yes, I am a terrible person.” He said with a voice as dry as the desert plains of Ran. “Are you two done having fun?”
“Never!” Mearn said with her chin raised defiantly before chuckling and waving him off. “But for now, yes. Thank you, Ayuen. You’re good fun. I think we’ll get along great.”
“How can I not get along with somebody with such a feeling for drama and theatrics?” Ayuen walked up to him and stood on her toes, patting him on the head.
“Oh, Rove. Sometimes you’re just too easy to take advantage of.”
Mearn couldn’t refrain from firing off another quip. “I know right?”
Rove growled threateningly.
“Shut it, Mearn.”
“Gosh, fine. Anyway, hop on board, we’ll chat.”
Feeling the teasing was done, for now, Rove shook his head. “Afraid I can’t do that. Our companions are in another part of the harbour, looking for this ship. Better let them know we’ve found what we were looking for. Feel free to gossip with Ayuen though while I do that. I’m sure that you two will be greatly amused by the stories you can exchange.”
Without waiting for further verbal assaults, he briskly turned around and walked away. What do you mean he was fleeing? He was just advancing in the opposite direction. Totally different actions.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/554030201789743105/1028654515798409237/Grasping_Isle_Final_V1.0.png]
Map made by Mark Evegaars, writer of this story