[Flashback] Ale brings out the best in all of us (Hawkins)

[Naama]

Naama narrowed her eyes. “Just one plan after another with you, isn’t it. I’ll stick with you only if I get to see the day you get a shank up your ass.” She smirked, kicking her legs along to propel her through the water at Hawkin’s pace. She was quickly growing fatigued, what with the combined weight of keeping the overturned boat aloft and her wounds bleeding profusely through the water, not just the arrow hole in her shoulder. The halfbreed’s body throbbed all over. How much more of this petching shyke could she take? When Hawkins swam off beneath the waves, Naama followed suit after taking a generous gulp of air. Her arms and legs were heavy from exhaustion, but she was grateful for her second eyelids to keep the majority of the salt from her eyes. Breaking the surface of the water, Naama took deep breathes of air, barely keeping herself afloat with what strength she had left. It was all crashing down on her. The pain became intense, and she winced in agony when the sailor helped her onto the row boat so conveniently made available. Naama didn’t bother sitting up, she collapsed onto the boat, taking in as much of the salty air as she could, her grasp on her swords viselike. She spared Hawkins a glare, “No shyke, deyhan. Being your meat shield is not the most pleasant experience.”

[Hawkins]

"She'dun luuk's'gad 'awkins." Squig remarked, his unusually lopsided stare flickering from the water to Naama for a moment longer then he was comfortable with. The little man almost jumped whenever the halfblood looked at him. "As our new friend so delicately put it, Squig, my shield of meat is not an experience one should endeavor toward." How charming. Hawkins noticeably moved himself away from Naama after he spoke. They both did. There was power in that. At least there would be later. For now all one of them had to do was poke the woman and they could claim dominate. Albeit neither of them were willing. She was still scary. The skiff jolted when it hit land. Squig pulled the boat off around the side of dock marketplace, hiding them amongst the other small vessels discarded for when the tides were still out. Hawkins bolted up. He gandered about, hat moving to and fro as he surveyed their surroundings for any unsavory followers. None? None. Good! Now. How were they supposed to get an near unconscious Myrian all the way to the Commons? Balls. Determined, Hawkins glanced over his shoulder at his two companions. "I'll return shortly. Don't move. Or, something. Squig, the ship is yours." He hopped out and scampered off, disappearing behind a stall. The market was a unique place. Several make-shift housings were set up in a mass of ill ordered consumerism, all of them on stilts or elevated someway from when the ocean crept up and closer to the city itself. A thick bustle of bystanders clogged the narrows between the merchants, all keeping to some semblance of order between the failing sun. Squig sat on the edge of the skiff, legs swinging as he waited for his companion's return. On occasion he would glance at Naama, but only long enough to not lose an eye. He was a stout sort, but he lacked weapons of any kind and barely fit any sort of fittest survival instinct. He just grinned. A lot. Meanwhile, Hawkins wandered. He stumbled into one of the open alleys and dodged an ugly stall guard - an Akalak that growled with the most vicious teeth, then milled about in some queer form of exploration. How to transport a Myrian. With a spin he sauntered up to one of the stalls - one with an assortment of mundane items: cosmetics, jewelery, a suitable looking cart behind the lot of it all - and eyed the merchant there. A chipper fellow, the man's face was red and powdered with enough make up to make a whore blush. That and the hair was fake. One stranger regarded the other with an understanding eye of business. "Good day good sir! Welcome to my finely honed crafts, can I interest you in a wood ch-" Hawkins shoved a hand in front of the man's face. What? "You sir, may not interest me in anything. Not with this, well. This atrocious fellow you have here, yes? It offends me that you merchants would switch men so easily." The merchant quirked a brow and glanced aside at his Akalak guardsman. The over-sized lout appeared just as confused. "What are you going on ab-" "I've half a mind to think these goods are all stolen. Hogwash. I saw him standing guard just yesterday with that fellow across the way." He paused to thumb over a shoulder. "Why would I buy fenced goods? Well I wouldn't, I say." "What?!" The Akalak's gaze narrowed. "Preposterous. I pay him good money, is there any truth to this accusation?" Hawkins stepped a bit to the side as to allow the merchant a full view of his guard. Some individuals stopped to observe. The Akalak appeared offended. Annoyed, even. Yet the Merchant was stern, his own intent stare determined to get an answer. "Well? Tell the man. Go ahead!" There was a mumble of a response. "Why you!" Hawkins pointed at a man in the gathering crowd. The poor sod blinked from the accusation. "I saw you as well gallanting about, did you not remember this fine specimen of a warrior on the other side of the narrow?" There was a moment of pause. Both the merchant and guard turned toward the man whom was enthralled with the attention. "I'ah, ya, ya'know, I'm'athinkin' I did!" Glorious. The chaos that followed was pleasant. The words "Thief" were thrown around somewhat as the merchant demanded an explanation for his sell sword. All the while Hawkins ducked about to the other side of the stall and grabbed the cart. Quietly, he rolled off away from the surmounting drama. In retrospect he felt somewhat bad for the guard, that man was just trying to make a living. Then again, he did growl. The trek back was easy and unmolested. Strange. Hawkins pulled up along side the skiff with his newfound cart and various odd goods, those of which - most importantly - included a covering. "Up you go! C'mon, Squig, best not to dally."

[Naama]

Naama kept her lips sealed. These wounds were far less gruesome than the ones left behind by the wretched white creature she encountered several years ago. The pain was something she could endure, especially when her mere presence shook the squat old man to the core. It wasn’t as if she meant to communicate either. Naama could barely understand a word coming out of the man’s mouth, so instead, when Hawkins left for whatever plan he concocted in that ridiculous head of his she sat up with a grimace and secured her hooked swords to her belt. She was still soaking wet, and the blood that oozed from her cuts mingled with the water that soon pooled beneath her boots. Silent was the halfbreed the entire span of Hawkin’s absence. Mulling over the questions yet to be answered, and her path on the quest to find her sister. The trail had led here, to the city of Anarchists, but the title held truth. It seemed hopeless to come here to find answers, but the question still remained where a young Myrian girl would disappear to. She doubted this sailor and his fat companion would prove to be helpful beyond their knack for getting her into deeper shyke. When Hawkins returned, Naama shot him another generous glare. “Carted off like a sack of meat. This better be worth it.” She hauled herself out of the skiff and into the cart, where the covering did well to conceal the Myrian. It was more than petching uncomfortable, but Naama knew when her stamina had reached its limit. Now she awaited their next destination, observing the denizens, stalls and dilapidated buildings they passed through an opening in the covering. To be continued.... in another thread.

[Leviathan]

Thread Award! Naama   Skills Skill Gain Info. Weapon (Hook Sword) 5 -- Dual Wield 5 -- Brawling 4 -- Unarmed Combat 3 -- Rhetoric 3 -- Swimming 2 --   Lore Human Anatomy (Moderate) Language: Sunberth Slang (Poor) Hawkins   Skills Skill Gain Info. Brawling 4 -- Weapon (Sword) 2 -- Drinking 2 -- Leadership 1 -- Rhetoric 4 -- Negotiation 3 -- Swimming 2 -- Escape Artist 4 -- Larceny 1 --   Lore Sly Tricks: Civil Distraction Language: Sunberth Slang (Conversational)