Closed [Quay] Moonlight and Dead Dragonflies (Pulren)

[Shai]

Shai crawled back onto the familiar dock. The wood planks beneath her hands for the third time this night. Wounded pride stung, but less so than her throat now that the moment’s struggle had passed. Looking little better than a drowned rat her braid had come loose and charcoal hair dripped a constant stream of seawater. Slowly the thief caught her breath to explain her reasoning. Her voice more a croak than than the dangerous purr from prior to the confrontation, “I do not know, Ren.” The profession lost her no face, because the spider immediately moved to the corpse.

The man’s face was all but shredded from the Symenestra’s claws, but the water had drained much of the bodily fluids punctured eyes and cheeks usually oozed. The thief went for the pockets first, dropping anything she found on the dock. Belt pouches, pockets, boots all of it was removed by the unashamed widow. Making no attempt to secret away any goods, she set it all out for perusal.

Finally she worked back up to the man’s face, having found nothing particularly out of ordinary on his person. Pearl lips parted in a quiet “Ah” as amethyst eyes finally found their mark. The delicate fingers of a thief went to work pressing the puckering flesh on the thug’s face back together, to reveal the black edges of a tattoo. “A gang sign?” After long moments trying to examine the torn mark, Shai moved back to the items against the dock at the same time retrieving her lash from where it had fallen.

“What is happening, does not matter…” Shai murmured to herself, “What matters is how we react.” Shai sorted out a few small weapons and trinkets, mostly useless to her. The mizas amounted to roughly one stale mug of ale, also useless. There was a scrap of paper folded up, but utterly water logged from the waves. “Have you ever seen the mark? I do not know it. “ Setting the paper aside, Shai realized just how cold it was drenched in salt water. “We will retrieve your boat, Ren, but I need a moment to get my tools. Shall we meet in the common room? Five chimes should do...” As was her prerogative, she didn’t wait for a reply.

Long strides took the spider from the scene and body. The night had gone from quiet practice to business far too quick for the thief’s liking. She accepted a great deal of blame for failing to be aware, but there was something else. Who was so foolish as to strike at the heart of a gang’s territory? It smacked of intention, and Shai was going to be asking question after this debacle was set to rest.

Within her home, her eerie sense of grace took over. The walls insulted some of the late Autmun chill. Discarding the wet clothing in an unceremonious heap she sought out a dry set and her night leather.

The sheer number of things, Shai carried on a nightly basis had taken seasons worth of experience and planning to assemble. After the armor, she hid three throwing knives beneath the leather against her skin where the cilia rippled out to grasp the metal and secure it. Two contracted fans slid into the weapons sheath at her thigh, and the coiled lash found its home as well. Her old cloak draped over her diminutive frame in a fluid movement, the black cloak had settled on her shoulders for years now. Within were a number of a buttoned pockets holding a small number of necessities for a larcenist. On her way out the door she snatched up her brush and went at taming the tendrils falling down her shoulders.

When she finally made it to the common room it had been well over eight chimes though the spider acted as though she was early. Her brush handle in her mouth as she tied up her hair in a braid. Remarkably mundane, and yet the plans jumping through her thoughts were anything but. There were any number of ways to run a recovering and it truly depended upon Palaren, how she would proceed. There was no line sacred to the spider, and none she had encountered which she wouldn’t cross in pursuit of a goal. No, this was a matter of pride and gang reputation.

[Pulren Marsh]

Dripping profusely on the dock, Pulren watched the horizon and the small spot as it moved farther away. It was clearly headed to the dock. There wasn't anywhere else for a rowboat to go. He knew it would be imperative for them to find the culprits and boat before it could be spirited away or attached to a major ship. He chastised himself internally for not putting a mark somewhere inside it to verify it, but having just bought the boat, he would hope that it would be obvious that it was the one they sought simply for its newness.

Listening to Saris' words, it became apparent to him that the strange woman was very thorough in her examinations. Realizing that watching a stolen dot get smaller was not going to help the situation, he turned his attention to her investigation instead. He watched as she set all of the items out meticulously for inspection, heeding her words that the problem was not about the situation but their reaction. He simply nodded and tried to slow his breathing, pressing his hand flat against his scalp to press the water down the back of his neck. No dripping in the eyes or on evidence that way, he figured.

Next was her attempt to press her own scars she had set in the corpse's face. Looking back at the water, he immediately realized that the man he had drowned more than likely had such a mark as well, lacking the lacerations. He would have to pay more attention to what he did in the future. Sunberth was clearly turning him into more of a feral creature than a civilized man. With a mild shrug and more attention, he answered, "Never seen that mark, but Sunberth breeds gangs like rats." They never saw such a thing in Zeltiva, the Guards were frequent and strong in their number and investigations. Nuit corruption was bad enough without help from these hooligans. Just like that, she was ready to meet in the common room and was off. If it was time for preparation, he had to move as well.

With a hurried gait, Pulren was already stripping his clothes off as he entered the Quay House and made his way upstairs to his room. His wet shirt went first, tossed idly in the corner as his well used studded leather came out. Using another shirt to dry his head and body, he chose to only wear an undershirt beneath his armor. It would chafe a little, but not looking like the soaked rat he just was was more important. The same reasoning had him donning a new pair of undergarments and black linen pants, leaving the leather puckered and soaked to dry out. His boots would have to slosh a little as they were too valuable not to wear. Wet boots in Sunberth were not so rare, however. The battle scarred shield and his trident was soon in hand as he fitted his last straps on the armor. No kukri since it was extra weight and he might have to swim again. The straight razor came along, folded in the right boot as always. Back to work.

He had not even a chime to wait when Saris returned, also outfitted in a sleek leather suit, wholly enveloped by a well fitted cloak.She looked like someone he was glad to have as an ally at night, though her features appeared even more bizarre by candlelight. "Welcome back. The only reasonable conclusion is the docks, so I figured I would start jogging that way. I'm traveling as light as safety will allow, but I'm not sure about how you want to run it. I imagine you know how to move in the night the best, so if you want to head that way with me, we can talk on the move. Sound alright?" He was nearly dry from the exertion and changing of clothes, ready to get on with it. Her word would be the current law.

[Shai]

As her partner for the night spoke, Shai pulled her hair up into a tight round bun and began stabbing through it with metallic picks and wrenches that had been hidden in her palms. Spitting out the brush she caught it. “The docks make sense. If we were dealing with criminal masterminds stealth would help. Tonight the taverns will be our best bet, men like to drink and they brag when they drink. Since we lost sight of the boat, we’ll have to track it down.” She left the brush in the common room for later retrieval.

Shai had to consciously remind herself, Ren couldn’t follow her up the wall and out the quick way. Turning woodenly back towards the entrance. It had been a long while since she’d worked with a partner that couldn’t follow. It brought up problems, as she strode she explained. “At night thugs will set up tolls on the bridges, we may have no choice but to pay it.” Then again, the spider only just now realized Palaren wasn’t towering over her like most men. Shai had grown so accustomed to it, she already noticed he was only a hand taller. The lower height might help later on, she’d keep it in mind.

Even as they made their way north towards the docks, her neck craned every few alley ways staring down men and women looking for cons or johns. Two people weren’t such an easy target as a loner but still when one started forward the Symenstra’s hand was already on her hip. The pair of thugs backed down, looking for easier prey. Paranoia was a gentle succor to a Sunberther’s mind, it was the guarantee they wouldn’t die tonight. Trust no one and live to see the inevitable other boot fall.

“Did you notice anything suspicious when you bought your boat? Any important details could help us find these men.” Shai asked, her voice only just above a murmur. Discussing anything on the street made her nervous, too many places for a listener to hide. Spying was all too often her own technique to pick out marks. Again she consoled herself, a loner was a victim but a pair was a bad mark. Wariness did not abate.

“Have you ever been to the Drunken Fish, Ren? It is… something special.” She promised, trying to keep the snicker out of her tone.

[Pulren Marsh]

Part of being a soldier was recognizing when to give orders and when to take them. It was clear that in night's embrace, Saris was the commander. He would follow her lead and protect her as best as he could. While she was a lithe shadow, fleeting and nearly unable to catch, her fragile frame would not allow for long term battle. If she were to be trapped, she could be crushed like...well, a spider. "I'll follow your lead, Saris. You are Night's champion. ready when you are."

While he didn't fear toll charging thugs, he did find it satisfying that they backed off for the most part as the duo moved on their way to the docks. The pair looked like they were ready for action, clearly dressed for the part. As they moved through the streets of Sunberth, Pulren found himself more angry about the attack than the boat itself, so when she asked about details, he only shrugged. "I know I paid too much for it, that's for sure.This petching town. Vagiks are so poor they have to nearly murder people for a boat." He knew he wasn't much help, but he would make it up in thuggery or information gathering. Probably. Hopefully. Meh.

"The Fish? Oh yes. That's where I met Web. It's something, indeed. In many ways, it is both worse and better than the bars of Zeltiva." He appreciated idle banter. Tactical intelligence was all well and good, but any attempt at actual socialization with fellow Scars was always number one in Pulren's book. "Do you think we might have a drink there together? Or are you more for peering from up on high? Also, did that tattoo strike you as anything important?"

[Shai]

Overpriced was hardly notable, not in Sunberth. Everyone was out to hustle someone, that was the only way to survive. It wasn’t long after the toll thugs that the Fish came into view, Shai chewed on the idea. “I generally do watch from afar, but there is no harm in blending in.” She laughed cynically, “As much as I can.”

The door was ajar to the tavern, from within light and raucous laughter escaped. “You find two seats and I’ll find two ales.” This time of night would make either task anything but easy. She took a step from his side towards the door before remembering to toss another comment back over her shoulder, “As for the tattoo, I have never seen it before but that does not mean we will not tonight.”

Shai slipped through the open door without trepidation. Much to her previous partner’s chagrin, Shai enjoyed alehouses. There are a number of simple marks, already half inebriated just waiting for the opportunistic thief. Unfortunately, on the same note Shai had been known to drink far too much on a number of occasions. That is why, even though her previous partner and she had split seasons ago, Shai still avoided taverns. When any stray kick could kill, being the tavern lush was out of the question.

Ducking beneath the full arms of harried and harassed barmaid, Shai slid up into a sliver space at the bar. She couldn’t bring her voice to raise over the din and so rather than order her own, she waited for the man beside her to be served. As the mugs were placed in front of him, the spider wrapped her ankle around his bar stool and yanked it out from beneath him. Deft hands dropped a silver in place of the two mugs which she snatched up, Twisting in place she was already sliding back through the crowd by the time the poor sod was getting back to his feet.

Ducking and weaving through the press of bodies, keeping as much space for herself as she could, Shai sought out Palaren. Hopefully he would have found some space by now. If not, the mugs of stall 'Berthian river water would taste just as bad if drank while leaning against the wall outside.

[Pulren Marsh]

Blending in. It was honestly funny. Pulren had to do a double take at the mention of Saris and blending. The shadows? Sure. Society? Well, let's head on to the mission. The unlikely duo found themselves arriving at the Fish, the crowd as rowdy and drunken as ever. Seriously, where did these bums ever scrape together the coin for the swill they pushed? There were the higher levels that supposedly had richer folk in it. Pulren doubted anyone in Sunberth, save for the Birthers in their golden keep, had much of anything to scoff at.

It appeared that a plan had been made, she was in charge of drink and he was in charge of seats. Neither appeared plentiful in the mostly packed house, so it looked like it would be a test of wits, something Pulren enjoyed. Of course, this is Uncle we're talking about, so when wits failed, violence was usually close behind. Seeing what he thought the best spot, a smaller table with a dim oil lamp in the corner, the Zeltivan made his way to it, noting a pair of older men throwing cards back and forth. Their faces screwed up when he approached, their years of Sunberth educating them. A knife even appeared on the table and their eyes lighted up, beckoning Pulren to be foolish.

"None of that now, ye old gents. I need your table for business." They started balking and laughing at Pulren, sure of his being a complete idiot. Pulren laughed along with them. "Hey, listen. I appreciate that you have made it this far in life and avoided danger." At this point he squatted, his trident his prop. "It's a dangerous world we live in, no doubt there. I don't know you or who you know or who you represent. I don't care, either. I'm a Scar. Here's the thing. I want this table and I will absolutely stab one of the two of you to a bloody pulp unless you give it to me." His voice became quite but it held the same sure bloodlust that occasionally gripped the Zeltivan, murder in his irises. "You may kill me in the process, you may escape. Who knows what will happen? I do know that before the blood leaves my body, one of you two will be very dead or dying from very painful stabs to your face."

It was quiet for a moment in their little space. Pulren smiled a smile that made the pair scoff and gather their cards. "No respect for the aged, you little vagik." Standing, he gave them ample room to leave. "On the contrary, gents, I respect you enough to let you hobble out with your head high." Taking his seat, he waved on Saris when she came with the drinks.

[Shai]

Shai wove through the press, having spotted Palaren. She dodged passed the disgruntled men who shot complaints over their shoulders but left all the same. Sloshing the ale over the lip of the mug, the spider settled them upon the procured table. The problem with taverns and Shai in one place, was the atmosphere always gave her a wicked streak. “Hopefully we find the culprit in one ale.” She said throwing a glance at the Scar. “You would not like me after a few more.” It was only now occurring to her, that every time she’d entered a tavern a brawl had sprung up or she had been chased out. All stories Ren didn’t need to know about.


The spider held up her mug as a nod to him before taking her first drink. Fouler than your average Sunberth morning, it was an acquired taste for certain; she’d had mouth fulls of mud that tasted better. “So we have the tattoo to go on and little else…” Her eyes were dancing around the room, checking faces and bare shoulders anything that looked like the mark they’d found earlier. Seeing no matches didn’t make it definitive, someone could walk in or she might have missed one.


Tilting her chair back against the wall the Spider looked far more at ease here than she did among the dark corners and alleys where she was infinitely more proficient. Her lips curled into a smirk, “I was once part of a gang. Years before the one you are apart of came about. We would take over entire taverns, it was like a family in some ways.” Another drink, “And not at all in many others.” On second thought, she shouldn’t have brought it up. The Edge was a dream dead and gone, and it had proved more nightmare than dream when all the dust was settled.

“Are the taverns a place you frequent, Ren?” Her Inquiry was casual. Shai turned her attention back on the crowd, trying to find their quarry so they had excuse to leave before Gods only know what trouble she found for them here.

[Pulren Marsh]

Taking his mug and nodding in thanks, Pulren took a short sip. The Fish could sometimes spoil a beer pretty easily and while he was accustomed to kelp beer and its fine taste, finer drinks could be just as volatile when expecting a better flavor. The one in question, however, was sufficient, his lips smacking in approval. A slight chuckle came from his lips when Saris announced that multiple drinks could make her unfavorable. Doubtful.

Shrugging it off, his own eyes perused the crowd, his eyes looking for men who were wet. It was the easiest factor to take in, seeing how the only living culprits had been in the water first. why not share it with his ally, who seemed so eager to leave? "Well, the tattoo and the fact that those who escaped did so in the water, leaving them soaking wet. Even with a change of clothes like myself, I am dripping a little. Maybe they are." It was logic and what he had. The swill went down easy and quickly, Pulren glad to have a brief respite from the grim business that they as Scars were usually up to.

Soon she was speaking of her previous gang and how it operated, a subject that seemed to hit a soft spot in her, something that Pulren was surprised existed at all. "Did your family gang have fun? The Scars seem a little straight for my tastes." He was Palaren, after all, man of nobility and wanton adventures. If he had kept his demeanor and alias up so far, there was no reason to spoil it now. " I like taverns, sure. I enjoy them in Zeltiva as well. Ours aren't quite so rowdy, but there are always plenty of things to do." he had never actually stepped into any of the haughty joints on West Street, but the rumors of those who knew the few who did sounded pretty nice.

[Shai]

“Wet? I had not thought of that.” She replied curiously. It was a valid point, one she had failed completely to consider. Her search was reevaluated for the new characteristic, still she had little luck. The thief had discounted Palaren’s experience since the first, when she had lectured him on his foot placement. An error that would go unrepeated.

Taking a deep swig of the ale, Shai tried to kill the burn. Most of her throat’s complaint came from the recently expelled sea water, but experience told her she could numb it, given enough ale. “Family is a loose word, we watched out for one another and had the ability to enforce it.” Now that foam had settled the Symenestra could see the dregs at the bottom of the mug. “The Scars are much less aggressive…” Some nights she still woke up feeling the mage’s flame bite her legs. “and perhaps less effective because of it.” Shai shrugged, the Sunberth shrug that said everything and nothing.

Grinning she took another drink, “You know the one you all call Web? Or was it Weber?” Turning the look of mischief on Ren the secret spilled, “She was one of ours. She and I, go back years.” Shai might have spilled another tidbit had a voice to left not dropped low. There was a curious thing about whispers in taverns. When voices were raised and rowdy, lower tones carried far better than most would imagine.

“Got away with it, but them others are probably in the heap by now.” Another miracle was the voice wasn’t drunk and slurring, at least not yet. It could be anything but a thief was always on the look out for marks, so if it wasn’t Ren’s boat then it might be a payday.

Unfortunately the voice that replied had such an accent that Shai couldn’t be sure it was even speaking Common. “Ahm a gunna git ‘nothah roun’ drink to dem lost boys.” Probably drunk too judging by the lack of letters his words seemed to possess.

The sober voice snarled, “No, you’re going to help me carry it to the warehouse, quiet-like, where we can hide it until that wolf bitch’s pups forget about it.” Scrapping and muttered complaints followed the statement. Shai dared not look over her shoulder, Palaren had a view of it and that had to be enough.

The duo of thugs were headed for the door. The widow locked lips with her mug one last time, a conspiratorial glance towards her partner for the night, before tossing back the swill. “How about we take another walk Ren? There will always be ale later.”

[Pulren Marsh]

Maybe it was the slight buzz of the ale or the atmosphere of the place, but he was actually loosening up a little bit. Sure, he was still keeping his mind on the mission and remaining in character, but Saris seemed very likeable and pleasant once one made it through the mysterious qualities of her birth and demeanor. Nodding and listening to her tales of her previous gang, it occurred to Pulren that she was probably right about the Scars and their lack of violence. Everything he had seen in their presence was plenty visceral, so the thought of a gang that was even more violent was something to behold.

It also made him think not to ever underestimate Saris. Of course, it was good practice not to do that with anyone, but in particular, the lithe woman next to him seemed very capable and very deadly. One not to cross, surely. He looked out toward the crowd, his eyes still scanning for wet footprints or hair slicked down to a scalp, but nothing. In the meantime, he listened and learned. Web had been in this previous gang with Saris and the two of them knew each other. Probably meant she knew Bitzer as well. It wasn't much, but it did fill a few gaps.

He noticed that Saris' attention was pointed toward a group of men nearby, sailor types as far as he could tell. There was something about the way she looked at them that made him remember the lesson he had been given by Web the last time he had been spotted with a Scar. voices and selecting them from the air and the din of the bar. While trying to recreate the lesson he had been taught, even going so far as to close his eyes, he was sadly disappointed in that he could not pull the conversation loose yet. More training would be required, as usual.

Opening his eyes, however, had a profound effect, considering that the men that needed to be heard were behind Saris and not in front. He heard the remarks about a trip to the warehouse and the wolf bitch's pups. It made his blood simmer in his veins to hear it, not so much because of the wolf bitch, but that he was a pup, apparently. The pair of thugs stood and made their way to the door and Pulren was already gripping his trident soon after. Looking over to her, he listened to her words and nodded, though he had some advice considering the run in he had had with Web and thugs.

"Let me leave first and follow, you come right after, providing no one is watching us to follow the pair. Sound fair?" Standing once they exited, he took his trident in hand and headed toward the door, hoping that he was just being overly cautious.