Whatever this spell is that Gael pulled on this guy, it’s impressively effective. Where before he was being stoic and stubborn, now he’s perfectly compliant, answering every one of our questions without hesitation. The fact that it’s left Gael entirely out of it the whole time is … less than ideal, I know she’d prefer to be part of the interrogation instead of just left lying on the floor, albeit made as comfortable as Shul and Krakka have been able to make her with blankets and pillows. Then again, I get the impression she can’t feel much of anything right now, so I doubt she’d even have noticed if we’d just left her alone on the cold hard tiles.
I’ve done my best to carry the weight of the questioning in her stead, like I did the other day back in the tattoo shop, allowing Kesla’s lead but speaking up when I get ideas of my own. So far it’s been surprisingly illuminating, or maybe not, since Vik was supposedly the man in charge of the gangs they’ve mostly just been using for muscle. The surprise is that his connection to Jammund and his people runs deeper than just hired help.
The wizard is called Luthan Tavarrat. We know this now because she was born and raised in Untermer, and Vik grew up with her. Turns out that yes, she was once a Silver Order wizard, but before she went to the Academy she was the daughter of a shop clerk for a local merchant who manifested in her late teens and was given an introduction through her father’s employer. Apparently the woman who came back years later was very different from the girl who left.
Honestly, there are times listening to him talk about this woman that I wonder if perhaps he was in love with her. Certainly there’s a fondness, and I get the impression it was definitely reciprocated, even if it might simply have been in the form of friendship. And she was the reason Vik was brought in when they needed manpower.
Turns out, down in the docklands in particular, Vik’s becoming a big deal, even if he is still mostly just a hood for hire, or perhaps more of a facilitator now. When he was young he worked as a paid thug, but as he grew up it turned out he had a talent for wrangling the men under him and making arrangements for the people who employed them. Most of all, though, it was his discretion that won many of his particularly discerning employers over. He saw the Guild’s repercussions against non-affiliated criminals encroaching on their territory first hand, he knows what they’re really capable of. He knows how to keep his head down and his nose clean enough to pass muster.
He's never had direct dealings with Refik Hontiresk himself, but he knew enough about him to know he’s a big deal in Untermer, even within the Authority. And deeply corrupt, too. His most frequent clients have strong ties to the Administrator, so he’s done indirect work for him in the past. So he wasn’t too surprised that Hontiresk had heard his name before it was suggested to him.
He tells us he’s lost a fair amount of resources in this endeavour. Resources. That’s an interesting word to hear someone use in reference to people. The men under his command … yeah, I saw Kesla get very quiet when he started talking about that, the way he talked about his men. It’s strange … the way the younger boy, Wull, talked about him, I could perhaps be forgiven for thinking this guy might’ve been some kind of great leader, or at least a good, honourable man, the kind of commander men are proud to follow into hell. They do it because they believe such a man would do the same for them. They lead from the front, the first to go into that very same nightmare …
It's becoming clear, though, that Vik’s become a paper tiger. Maybe once upon a time, in his youth, he might have been something, but what spark he once had has clearly been squandered and snuffed since, starved by years of him looking out more for himself than his men. Now he mostly just cares about the money, the prestige, the opportunities that his position and talent for hustle have made available to him. And under the cover of Occupation, it seems, business has been very good.
No, his men follow him because he’s good at pretending to be the kind of man they want to follow. The kind of man he hoped he could grew into, at least before he finally realised who he really was. It makes sense that the half-elf, Tog, was so determined not to leave him. He thought he had a father, of sorts, in this man. What he really had was a pimp.
Kesla’s dislike for him is definitely understandable, and I wonder if she might have enjoyed roughing him up a little, at least once she learned what kind of man he really is. I suspect she would’ve seen through a good deal him quicker than most, and she wouldn’t have put up with this kind of shit for a second.
Taking a deep breath, Kesla regards him for a long time before finally letting it out in a long, weary sigh as she plants herself in the chair she’s brought over to sit in front of him again. “How does Vandryss figure into all of this?”
The way Vik’s head swivels to turn her way again is not getting any less unnerving to me now. It’s not a natural motion, it’s like some twisted fleshy marionette being manipulated by unseen hands and invisible strings. The same with the way he’s slumped against the back wall, still more spawled across the bed than reclining on it, his head the only thing that seems capable of moving, at least beside his face … and even then he’s not overly expressive, no real emotion showing through since he’s started to speak to us without concern since Gael took control. Nor has his manner of speech changed in any way either, every word delivered in the same monotone manner.
“She’s … to be honest, I ain’t too sure. She has some kind of connection to Hontiresk, but I know she knows Jammund too. I think she’s some kinda facilitator in this business.”
“Like you, you mean?” I venture, shooting a look to Kesla now.
“No, I don’t think so. She seems more concerned about the cargo.”
“The cargo.” Kesla looks at me for a moment longer, her frown deepening as she finally turns back to him, and I catch enough of a glimpse before she does to see the gears turning in her head now. “You mentioned cargo before. I remember … when we asked you about what it was the rest of your people were doing, while Tog and his … idiots were making trouble for us. You said they were … collecting cargo. Or at least trying to.”
“They were, yeah. But not so much now. We’ve had to pull right back on that side of the enterprise since you lot got involved, crawl under a rock was how that weird bitch put it.”
The enterprise. Apparently that’s how Jammund’s been referring to this whole business since they started it. As if it was some grand undertaking, something vital for the betterment of … gods, I can’t think who. No god or leader of men with any morality would be all right with stealing innocents out of their beds for … whatever unholy purpose they’re being taken for.
Finally I can’t hold off any more, I have to ask straight out, so I step closer, looming over him somewhat now, I suppose. I don’t realise I’m putting my hand on my sword again until I’ve already done it, but I suspect the effect is rather lost on Vik right now. “Why are you taking these people? What the fuck for? I don’t understand –”
“I don’t know. None of us do. I asked Luthan once, when we were just starting, why this was happening, if they were being shipped north as slaves, maybe. Like … I dunno, you hear stories sometimes, ‘bout the shit goes on up in Tektehr, in their far north. Where the sun barely rises, I mean. They’re fighting a war up there, that’s what I heard. ‘Gainst whatever it is lives in the Borderlands, or on the other side o’ the world, where there ain’t no sun at all. Maybe they need arrow fodder or something. Bodies for the machine, the Great Terror War Effort.”
“So what’d she say? When you asked her?”
“She didn’t know, any better’n the rest of us.” He looks up at me for a moment, and while his face doesn’t change at all, I wonder if he’s being more thoughtful now, considering me, perhaps. It’s unsettling being watched by him, however it is. “She don’t know Vandryss. That bitch makes her nervous, I can tell.”
Kesla watches him for a moment or two more, and she certainly is thoughtful right now. Then she puts her hands to her knees and starts to push herself upright again, and she has to grunt a little doing it. Like the day’s getting to her now. I thought I was the one who’d been through a fight today, not her. Thorin knows I haven’t had time to change yet.
For a long beat she turns to regard Gael, still stretched out on the floor nearby, with Krakka still sat cross-legged by their head. When I’ve looked back at him periodically over the course of this he’s mostly been tending to them, but every once in a while he’s clearly paying real, close attention to what’s being said and revealed here. Like now. He looks at me as he catches both of us turning, and his frown is deep.
Meanwhile, seems Kesla’s regarding Gael themselves, and the reasoning’s clear when she asks her next question before even turning back. “What about the other wizard? The one your people made disappear before we came?”
“Another wizard?” When I look back at him, there seems to be the very slightest crease between his brows, and as he looks up at Kesla now I hear a subtle, somewhat discomfited mutter from Gael, almost in response. As if they’re reacting to his consternation. As if perhaps he’s trying to lie now, but they’re having to exert a little more of their own pressure again to make him comply. “I … I don’t know …” That crease deepens, his brows furrowing now, becoming a genuine frown, and his hands, limp until now, twitch just a little. As if he’s trying to move. Yeah, looks like I was right. He’s trying to fight them now. He doesn’t want to give this up.
“Darion Foxtail. That’s his name.” Kesla takes her own steps forward now, leaning over him now with her hands on her hips. “The guy you disappeared. The reason we’re here in the first place, as a matter of fact.”
“I … I didn’t know … Luthan never gave his name. Just said he was a big deal, a real big deal. That I shouldn’t just use any men for that grab, I needed my best. Sent Tog along, with a dozen others, hand-picked. Luthan went herself too. And that orc fella. Granzun. The one hangs out with Jammund, mostly.” He looks at me, then back at Kesla, his face starting to smooth out now as he must just give in to the inevitable now the words are coming. “I didn’t go in myself. Stayed outside with the reinforcements, but they weren’t needed. Guy fought hard, but we surprised him. And Granzun hit him hard too.”
“Is he alive?” I lean forward myself now, planting a knee on the mattress now but stopping myself before I reach out to grab him, maybe start shaking him. I can’t keep the urgency out of my voice though, I’m getting desperate in Gael’s stead, it seems. “Is he? Tell me you didn’t kill him.”
“We didn’t. He went down hard, but …” He looks at me again. “He was a bloody mess, but he was alive. Granzun took the worst of the hits, Luthan said. He’s … it’s weird, he’s got a thing for her, I reckon. He’ll do anything for her. So he took the hits, so she could put this guy down.” His head lolls a little as he continues to regard me for a moment, and again I get that weird absent impression of thoughtfulness. “Luthen fixed him up, though. After. I mean … well, not exactly healing, cuz she ain’t a cleric. More just repair. Stitched the wounds with ‘er magic, but … well, he was still a mess from it. Lost a bunch o’ blood, got beat up, so … but yeah, he’s alive.”
When I pull back and straighten up, wringing my hands now to prevent myself from just balling them into fists in fear I might start throwing them, Kesla backs up too. Our eyes meet and there’s another electric moment when I feel like she’s feeling the exact same way I am. Darion’s … well, he is alive, then. But he’s not well. Gods … Gael, I’m so sorry …
“Where is he now?” Kesla asks after a long beat, clearly having to pick her tone as much as her words right now.
“No idea. Once we got ‘im fixed up we delivered ‘im to Jammund, as agreed, an’ Luthan went with ‘im. Ain’t heard one word on ‘im since, and I decided might be better not to ask.”
“Means she’s got him.” Kesla growls under her breath, meant mostly for me and herself only, I think. I see her working her own fingers too, not quite balling them and I know she’s fighting as hard as I am. “Fuck’s sake … all right. So … where do you go then? When you gotta communicate with Jammund? Or do you do everything through this … Tavaratt?”
There’s clear distaste in her mouth when she says that name, I think she might be offended on Gael’s behalf by the idea of an Order member turning against one of their own. It doesn’t sit at all well with me either.
If Vik’s even capable of noticing right now he doesn’t make any more sign of showing it than before. “Mostly I go to the Late Bone. It’s a tavern down by the wharves. Jammund owns it, it’s where he spends most of his time since he retired. Nobody looks twice cuz it’s all his business.”
“Mostly?” Gods … please let us get an actual lead here.
“There’s a warehouse down in the docks too. It’s where we sent my boys to get those tattoos. Jammund don’t own that, he just borrowed it. Far as I can work out it’s a loan from one o’ the smuggler crews works for Hontiresk. I dunno why he did that, but I guess he’s got his reasons.”
“Must be so Hontiresk can keep it from getting back to him if anything happens to Jammund. Levels of obfuscation, I imagine. It’s smart.” When I look at Kesla I see her nodding along, and she’s relaxing again as a subtly sly smile starts to touch her lips at the idea. “Oh, obfuscation, it means that—”
“Yeah.” She breaks out into a brilliant smile as she nods this time, clearly amused by my unnecessarily trying to jump to her rescue. “I know.”
Feeling a touch of heat in my cheeks, I look away quickly, instead scrambling to pick my thread back up so I can continue my thread. “Um … well anyway …” I look back at Vik, starting to get back on point now. “Yeah. Well … so did you just go there the one time, or have there been any times since?”
“Once or twice, ain’t really been keeping count. It’s where they’ve got my other crews sending the cargo. Jammund’s got his own people set up there, or maybe they’re the other smugglers’ folks, I dunno. But I seen Jammund there before. And Vandryss was there every time. Reckon that might be where she’s based out of.”
“Shit.” Kesla breathes low, and when I look at her again she’s still smiling, more excited now. That’s … yeah, she’s right. That’s a big deal, a serious lead.
“Tell us where exactly.” I turn back to him, trying to keep my game face on now as much to stay intimidating even though I don’t think it really matters right now.
Then again … that frown starts to form across Vik’s face again, and he’s a long time answering, while Gael starts to grumble where they are on the floor, letting me know he’s fighting again. I can’t stop myself, I just step forward and settle my knee on the mattress after all, leaning forward to I can wrap my fingers around his jaw and twist his face up towards mine, glaring right into his eyes now. Putting on the fiercest face I can now, I growl: “Spit it out. Please.” My tone makes that sound entirely like a demand.
For a moment more he resists, then he works his mouth a little and lets out a low sigh, and his eyes never leave mine, widening just a little now as he finally loosens his tongue again. “The waterfront, farthest north stretch. First Point. Company’s name is Hardward, but it ain’t owned by dwarves, that’s just a cover. Big place, expensive too, reckon it might’ve been used for legit business up the hill, ‘least before the Occupation. Not anymore, mind.”
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“Yeah, sounds about right.” Kesla muses, folding her arms now as she dips her chin, thoughtful now. “Might be worth looking at.”
“Maybe.” I try not to get my hopes up too much, the way our luck’s been lately I’m not overly confident. But it’s a start. Taking a breath, I look down at him again. “So these kidnapping raids that you’ve been sending your people on, how does that even work?”
“I never asked.” I know Vik’s monotone answer is of course due to the spell, but it still makes me want to punch him again. “I just sent them the crews when they were needed, and then Vandryss or whoever was in charge of it at the time would tell ‘em what to do. I felt better that way.”
“You never cared about what they were doing to those people? Never?”
“These are … that Vandryss bitch scares me. I was not gonna fuck with that. They’ve … disappeared other people for sticking their noses into this. Didn’t particularly fancy ‘em pulling that with me too.” He lolls his head a little, and I wonder if perhaps he might be trying to cock it, give me a quizzical look, perhaps. Whatever, under the circumstances it just looks odd. “So I took the money, and sent my people to ‘em, and didn’t think too much about it.”
“The other woman, this Tavarrat …” Shul surprises both of us when she finally speaks up, moving close now and giving him a particularly dark look. “The one you know … you say she’s a Silver Order mage, yes? How can she go against her own?” Hmm … seems she’s been thinking the same thing we have, it’s just been weighing on her too much to stay silent. Not that I’m surprised, being part of the Order herself she’ll be taking this very personally.
“Because they tried to murder ‘er. She ain’t got no loyalty to them anymore. She gave ‘em eighteen years of her life an’ they betrayed ‘er. So she’s been doing what she can to survive since. After that, well … guess this is the work she found.”
Shul’s frown deepens, and she takes a step closer, then stops before she starts to speak again, faltering as though she’s not sure how to address this revelation. She looks my way, but can’t maintain eye contact, then down at Gael, but again she looks away fast. When she turns back to Vik she looks almost stricken. “I don’t … why? I don’t understand, why would … they wouldn’t just kill her, surely. There must have been a reason.”
“She don’t like to talk about it, an’ I don’t blame ‘er. Impression I get is they hurt her bad doing that. Far as I’m concerned all you Silver Order bitches can go fuck yourselves.”
When I catch Kesla’s eye this time I know she can tell what I’m thinking about. Garnon … is this the way they could have gone if they hadn’t found us? Something much worse, much darker? So far I’ve been trying very hard to think about these folk we’re up against as enemies, not as actual real people, with actual reasons for what they’re doing. But … no. No, I don’t want to think that. Garnon wouldn’t have gotten involved in something like this. The way they sided with me so quickly when I broke from my mother over Ashsong … surely that proved as much.
Still, I can tell that Kesla’s wondering now, and I’m starting to think that could be something too. I know there are surely all kinds of people in the Order, just like in any other part of society, but … well, my own experiences so far have led me to believe they’re just … I don’t know. They’re surely too moral a group to be okay with this. So if she was once Silver Order, no matter how it ended …
Then Kesla just turns to Shul and leans in close to whisper to her, and I’m torn between wanting to listen in and keeping my eye on Vik. Wondering if there are any other questions we should ask him.
Then there’s a knock at the door and everyone’s attention shoots to it at once. I can’t see whoever’s out there, the walls are lined with small, thick square bricks of some strange looking glass which is oddly opaque, letting a lesser, more sickly version of the light outside through but making it impossible to make much else out through it. The door has a single pane, but this seems to have some strange frosting effect, so all I can see is a shadow, unable to pick out details … although given the height of the individual waiting out there it doesn’t take much for me to work out who that actually is.
For a moment none of us do anything, we just look around at one another, then Krakka just frowns, muttering under his breath as he starts to fiddle about, then he pushes himself up, although it clearly takes a significant amount of effort for him to find his feet this time. He rises with a great, winded grunt and gives Kesla a particularly pointed look before starting to move across the floor to the door, and he’s definitely hobbling somewhat now, taking it slow. I know that tengu don’t tend to live all that long, and he’s clearly not young anymore, so it’s clear that Krakka’s most certainly feeling his age.
Shul, meanwhile, is standing with her head bowed and eyes closed, fingers laced together in a manner I’m becoming familiar with. Frowning, I turn to Kesla, who catches my look.
“I asked her to summon Master Saxiros. Seemed prudent.”
Cocking a brow at the somewhat quizzical lack of information I actually got there, I let a little sigh go and turn back to Vik, pondering for a moment before turning back again. “Anything else you want to ask? I can’t think of anything right now.”
“No, I reckon that’s it. We got some good leads.” She shrugs. “Sides, we got any more questions, he won’t be hard to find. But I reckon we got enough to go on now.”
Yeslee frowns as she ducks into the room, and I’m surprised when I realise just how low the ceiling actually is in the room seeing the way she has to stoop just as little to make her way to us. That being said, she is significantly taller than many people I’ve known in my time, even my own mother. Which is impressive in itself.
“Yes, what the hell?” Kesla seems a little perturbed, which takes her friend a little by surprise, I think. It’s very subtle, just the slightest widening of her eyes as she stops just short of us, a tiny pursing of her lips, then a sidelong glance my way.
“What?” is the unsurprisingly deadpan response.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Her eyes narrow somewhat at that, and there’s a slight ticking between her brows that’s the start of a frown. “Did Gael not pass on my message? I made it quite clear before when they contacted me. At a most inopportune time, I might add. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck.”
“Yeah, they did. That ain’t what I meant. You know what’s goin’ on, we can’t have anyone going off on their own right now.” She sighs, and the way she looks up at her old friend, there’s so much weight to her frustration right now. She doesn’t want to be lecturing her like this, and while Yeslee doesn’t seem to be at all fazed by it I wonder if, coming from Kesla, this might not be hitting home after all. “I mean, I know you’re ‘bout the most dangerous of the lot of us, but still …”
As it is, there’s a long moment when the Fir Bolg just looks down at her, and that subtle frown might tighten up just a little more, I can’t quite tell. Then she nods, lowering her eyes, and it could almost be a show of genuine placation, looking at it. “Of course. I can appreciate the thought. Just accept that I had good reason, please.”
“You were following Darwyn, that’s what Gael said.” I keep my voice cool and level, trying to sound as placating as I can as I cut in before Kesla can respond. Hoping I’m not entirely out of line here trying to play mediator. “Thel was … she didn’t like that she stepped out on us. I got the impression that you felt the same?”
Turning her strange violet eyes my way, her stare once again makes me feel like I’m being judged by an incredibly astute and unpredictable predatory animal, and I can’t help growing deeply uncomfortable under that gaze. It’s too much like being a mouse trapped by a very large housecat. “That’s not exactly how I meant it, but … I did it for my own peace of mind.”
“Did you get any, at least?” Kesla’s still frowning, but she looks more cool about it now all the same. The implied meaning behind the question hangs in the air clear enough.
“She didn’t go to the Arrowhead.” She says it so matter-of-fact it’s like she doesn’t even have an opinion on the matter.
Kesla’s frown deepens considerably as she shoots me a look. I just turn back to Yeslee, trying to gauge her feelings, but still coming up short. Finally I just sigh, giving my simple observation: “You know she never said she was actually going there. Just that she’d be checking in with Cobb. Maybe she did it some other way?”
There’s the slightest quirk to one of Yeslee’s brows at that. “It’s possible. While I was tracking her, she did cross other unfamiliar scents. I couldn’t comment on that, but …” She shrugs. “She stopped in a terrace in the Drumhalt before she came back here. She was in one of the apartments for a while. Long enough for me to be there when she left.”
Folding her arms, Kesla dips her chin, pondering for a long moment. “What the hell’s that all about?”
“I suspect Mistress Frostforge might jump to a very particular conclusion on that.” Yeslee shrugs again, turning back to me. “I suspect she’s following a similar urge to my own, now.”
That makes Kesla look up quickly, her look turning very sharp. “What?”
“She’s not in the lounge. Neither are her companions.”
“Oh for the love of Thorin …” Kesla turns away and just starts walking, heading for the door, then stops, seeming to ponder for a moment, before turning back, and she looks ready to spit now. “This really ain’t the fucking time.”
“It doesn’t mean they left.” I venture, although I’m not sure how much I believe these words myself. “They could just be getting food, or … maybe they were tired? All three of them …” My words falter even as I realise how wishful that idea really is. Kesla’s face doesn’t help.
“Wake Gael up.” she growls at me, looking ready to skin someone alive now, I think. Then she turns to regard Shul, who seems to surprise her when she realises that the wizard’s just been stood by for a while now, waiting. “Oh! Did you –”
“Master Saxiros will be here momentarily.” She gives Kesla a somewhat complicated look as she says that.
“What the hell are they doing?” Yeslee’s words grab my attention as I turn away from them to go to Gael now, finding the Fir Bolg already standing over them, hands on hips now as she frowns down at our prone friend.
“Something really dumb, apparently.” I let out another heavy sigh as I look back at Kesla. “Are you sure you want me to? We’re definitely done here?”
“What?” Kesla blinks at me, not catching my drift for a moment, then she seems to make the connection. “Oh! Yeah. We’re done.”
Frowning myself, I step up and drop to my haunches at Gael’s side, catching Krakka’s eye as I come down to his level. I have to ask. “How are they?”
“Honestly?” he almost laughs “I really haven’t a clue. I’m worried, though. This … doesn’t look right to me.”
That just makes me frown even deeper, and as I reach out, very carefully, to touch their cheek, I find it’s unusually warm, close to hot in fact. Like they’re burning a very high fever. “Gael? Hey, snap out of it. We’re done.”
There’s no response, they just lie there, staring up at the ceiling now, and while their breathing seems even and deep enough not to worry me her eyes are strangely glazed now. Reaching up, I snap my dingers over them now, and they don’t blink in response like I would’ve expected. Oh shit … “Shul? Hey, Shul?! Can you get over here right now please?”
Kesla blinks in surprise as she takes in the scene, while the half-hob’s already hustling over, her face business-like now. “Oh bloody hell … I warned them.” She crouches down so close to me she almost shoves me aside as she drops, and I have to adjust myself quickly to keep from falling on my arse, but I don’t snap at her like I feel like doing. I understand where she’s coming from right now, she’s as concerned for her new friend as I am.
Shul starts muttering under her breath as soon as she’s down, and once again I recognise in the way I don’t so much hear the words as feel them that this is an incantation. Reaching out, she starts weaving a sigil in the air with her long, deft clawed fingers, displaying a particularly impressive focus and efficiency that easily rivals Gael’s own. I have vague memories of when she was working on me the other night, when Gael brought me back after that abortive fight in the rain and they were all working to heal me from that nightmarish stomach wound. She’s got great skill in her own right, definitely.
Finishing the sigil, Shul stretches it out between her hands as it starts to glow brighter, then finishes her incantation and pushes it down into Gael’s face. For a moment it seems to stretch as if meeting resistance, then it’s less like the strange, ghostly blue light simply melts into their face as they just seem to absorb it. Certainly their characteristically pearlescent skin takes on an unusually blue sheen for a beat before normalising as the effect seems to dissipate.
“Damn it, Gael …” Shul growls as she leans in closer, her frown deepening now. “I told them this was a stupid idea, but …”
“They’re just being Gael.” I sigh, reaching out and gently touching their cheek. It’s still warmer to the touch than I’d like, but it’s clearly cooling now.
Then they blink, once, twice … and sit up with a great loud gasp of such sudden ferocity I genuinely topple onto my backside in surprise. For a long moment they just sit there, doubled over while they drag in big gasping breaths, before finally looking up at us. “Oh … oh Minerva … no, you were right, Shul. That was stupid. Shay?”
Still a little shook myself, it takes me a moment to answer her. “Yeah, I’m here.”
For a beat they just look at me, a complicated look on their face and particularly in their eyes now, then they finally lick their lips and sigh: “Oh … please don’t ever let me do that again.”
I can’t help it, I have to start giggling at that, and they smile too as I drop to one knee so I can lean forward properly and kiss them on the forehead. Their temperature’s already returned to normal, now.
“What the … what the FUCK?!!” The venom of the words is enough to grab my attention, and I turn quickly to see that Vik’s already sitting up too, and while he still seems somewhat stiff he definitely looks a good deal more mobile now than he did before. Mostly, though, he looks pissed, and his anger makes him particularly ugly now. “Oh you … you fucking BITCH!! How … how could you –”
He's clumsy pushing himself off the cot, but moves with surprising speed all the same, but in the end I imagine it’s rage driving him as much as anything else. He’s not a small man either, I realise he could do Gael some significant harm if he got hold of them, which is clearly his intention. I react without even thinking as he stumbles into a furious charge, already grasping for them.
At the very last I pull my punch, but only a little. Thorin knows I still hit him with significant force, using the leverage as I push myself up off my knee to strengthen the blow as I follow through and crack him square in the face, and it’s more than enough to stop him on the spot. In the end not only do I completely arrest his own advance but I knock him clean off his feet, and as he flops back down on the cot and bounces his eyes are already rolling over white. His head snaps back hard, but the most potent sign that I really did do some real damage was the brilliant fountain of blood spraying from his well-broken nose that arcs out wide as he drops. For a beat it looks like he might drop on the floor after all, but in the end enough of him lands that second time on the cot’s mattress that he just dangles there with his limp legs outstretched. And he doesn’t stir again …
Even so, my fists stay balled and my whole body’s still tense as I feel the potent bubbling of the adrenaline surging through me, ready to respond to another attack that clearly doesn’t look like it’s coming. My breathing’s heavy, but I slowly start to acknowledge that it’s also the only sound in this room now, and I slowly turn as I fight to get it back under control, suddenly feeling very sheepish as I realise what I’ve just done.
“Shay … Shay, what the fuck?” Shul looks strikingly rattled for a hobgoblin as she straightens up and hustles forward, making straight for Vik, clearly too stunned by my act to actually admonish me right now. Even so, her concern for a man who is still a charge in her care quickly takes hold of her again as she sweeps past me without ceremony.
Kesla, for her part, can’t keep the amused grin from her face as she starts to help Gael to their feet, while my half-elf friend mostly just looks perturbed now, cocking a particularly incredulous brow at me as they take in the scene. Krakka, on the other hand, is looking the other way much like Yeslee as he starts to rise, and I realise why a beat later. We’re no longer alone in the room.
Taphun Saxiros is stood a little inside the now open door, regarding the scene with a particularly stony face while one of his brows quirks particularly high. He’s unimpressed, clearly. Suddenly I’m distinctly aware that I have fresh blood splashed on my knuckles right now, even if I’m sure I’ve long since shed my fierce expression in the face of my contrition. My hand goes to my mouth as I stand very much to attention now, but I worry this might just make it even worse …
For a long stretch he just takes in each one of us, his piercing yellow stare particularly lingering on me and, I’m sure, the blood on my hand, before finally clearing his throat as he draws up to his full height and lacing his hands together. “Mistress Shoon, you asked for me?”
“Oh.” Kesla straightens up too, propping Gael up as best she can while she’s at it, and her smile’s already long gone as she simply covers. “Yes. Of course. My apologies, something’s come up we should really attend to so a conversation might have to wait. I was just hoping that maybe you could do us the courtesy of finding out everything you can about a former Silver Order mage called Luthan Tavarrat. It’s … pressing.”
That brow quirks again as he ponders for a moment. “This is information you’ve acquired from … this gentleman? Directly pertinent to Darion’s case, I would imagine?”
“Exactly so, yeah.” Kesla nods, quickly scrambling to add: “Master Saxiros.”
Once more his eyes flicker to me, and he gives me a more curious look now. I just hope he came in early enough to see I was simply reacting to protect my friend.
“Of course. Very good. I shall attend to it immediately. Please call upon me when you’ve dealt with … whatever it is.” He waves his hand vaguely and starts to turn, before pausing for a moment to look Gael over. When I look to them I see their eyes are about as wide as they’re capable of getting now, their own second-hand embarrassment clearly affecting them far more than any lingering effects of the spell.
“Good evening to you all.” He tips a quick but very respectful formal nod our way before sweeping out of the room again. I wait for a good long count before finally letting the breath I’ve been holding out, and it’s all I can do to keep from doubling over in my own mortification. The way the others are reacting I can tell I wasn’t the only one.
“Shit.” I finally manage to gasp, looking at Kesla now. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You did exactly what I would’ve done. Prick deserved it.” She shrugs, giving Gael a very gentle nudge with her shoulder. “You good?”
“I … honestly … haven’t got the first clue.” They look ready to drop, actually.
“So what now?” Krakka wonders, the voice of reason cutting through our awkward reverie.
Kesla starts to frown again. “Darwyn. I want a word. Right now.”