Hard Out Here [Konrad]

[Sloane]

67th of Winter, 516 AV

OOC :

For reference this is the Firelash Pavilion

The Firelash Pavilion had risen early, as always, but otherwise their morning had unfolded slowly, quietly and comfortably. The family ate their morning meal together, taking their time to enjoy one another's company. The whole day was to be spent making repairs around the Pavilion; preparing for the move to come in the next days, and so the family would be spending the day together for the most part, besides those who would leave to gather supplies. Sloane sat with Whayhana and the girls, Yane and Kina playing around and tugging at each other's braids, and Alina sitting quietly beside Sloane, pointing at various objects and telling the walahk the Pavi word for it. The rest of the pavilion had clumped into small groups, either eating their own meals or preparing equipment for the day ahead.

Hana was watching Sloane thoughtfully, chewing slowly. Sighing, Sloane finished her food and leant back, raising a brow at Hana. The two had become close over the season, with Hana taking Sloane under her wing to show her the Drykas way. "What?" She asked finally, hands forming the sign for question, which Yane reached over to correct, much to Sloane's embarrassment. Hana simply smiled, setting her food aside to lean towards Sloane, speaking quietly in Common. "Haigen is hunting today, you should go too."

She knew Hana was only trying to do what she thought was best for her, that the older woman was attempting to make things easier. Sloane herself knew that it seemed inevitable that she'd end up married to one of the pavilions men, Haigen most likely, merely for her ability to bare children. Hana knew it as well, and had been encouraging Sloane to spend time with him, in the hope that the two might develop an easier, more natural relationship with one another, rather than the forced, convenient pairing that Kadir had planned for them.

Sloane huffed out a breath, and raised her brows at Hana, not interested in playing along, despite the fact that the woman meant well. "No. Not going." She said simply, frowning. She wasn't about to give in, despite everything, despite the fact that it'd likely be better in the long run. She wasn't interested in the man, not even a touch, and the mere sight of him irritated her. The man didn't speak a word of common, and didn't seem at all interested to learn, instead he was more than happy to grunt and gesture when she tried to interact with him. "Definitley no."

Hana sighed, disappointed but not surprised by the response, and shook her head slowly. "Sloane, he is a good man--" Sloane growled, frustrated, and pushed herself to her feet. "Hana, stop." She snapped, rubbing at her face. Hana stood as well, arms crossed over her chest sternly. "Kadir knows you spend time with another walahk." She said finally, her tone blunt and serious. "He is not happy." Sloane scoffed, throwing her arms up. "Happy? Never happy." She retorted, lowering her voice when she caught sight of Haigen stand and make his way towards them. "He's a friend and he helps me train. That's all. Leave it." She finished, switching to common before the other man drew close enough to hear.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"What in the petch...?"

That was about as expressive as Konrad could get when he saw... it. His mind was a babble of questions and exclamations but only that particular series of words seemed appropriate. They came out in a slow, wheezing roll that lasted while he glanced from his hands to the water jug, to back, and back, and-

All right, this is getting stupid. Think.

He'd been practicing his wyrd, which wasn't unusual considering the time. Just as it was best for hunting, Konrad had found it best for training. The air was crisp and Syna not yet boiling it alive; the light wasn't blazing and blinding, and whatever coolness the night provided was still hanging around. Konrad liked the early rising. It was different to his Kenash and Sunberth schedule of rising in the early afternoon, when the booze or drugs had worn off.

So he walked out into the Sea of Grass with a jug of water to replenish himself and started... well, practicing. Balls of res. Clouds of it. Pinpricks of the stuff and others as large as his head. He rested in between each exertion and took a slug of water, but when he started making another one-

Something silvery and wobbly flickered out the corner of his eye. He looked down and, suffice to say, his concentration broke. The ball of res that he'd not even formed into a globe dissapated with a hiss-

Splush

-and so did the tendril of water that was reaching out of the water jug.

Konrad stared at the water. Suspiciously. Accusingly. Gods, this wasn't that sodding mist all over again, was it? Poisoning his mind and making him see things? No, that didn't seem likely: those visions were godsdamned mean, they were cruel, they were plucked from his memories. And that had seemed so real, and now reality had come back without a problem.

One way to find out.

He licked his lips and played it back in his mind. It wasn't res, like the fire he created. The water had been... attracted to the res he'd already made. Just like fire was, from torches and candles when he practiced near them. Just like Trevin taught him it would be. So...

It's water now, too? Not just fire?

The man in the black hat scowled at himself. He already knew how to answer this, and second-guessing his own first-guesses was just a waste of time. He raised his hand and with his exhale, he willed that river of flowing power up into his palm. Res leaked out of the healed scar and curled upward like smoke caught on the breeze. But this breeze was precise, folding it and twisting it like clay being molded.

He glanced beyond it. The water was... moving. Like there was a breeze over the surface of it. His mind began to whisper "Now", as if to ignite the res, but he clamped down before it could. Instead he focused on the water, keeping the res ball turning, edging it a little closer to the jug.

Come on... well, bugger me.

Konrad had seen an octopus once. There'd been a circus in Sunberth and one of the attractions was a massive aquarium filled with all sorts of strange sea life. The younger man had wondered how they didn't all eat each other, since there were some proper toothy little bastards in there, but he remembered the octopus the best. Eight legs. Body like a ball with the air let out. Changing colors as it half-walked, half-oozed across the sand at the bottom of the tank.

Then he reached out with one tentacle, and pressed it to the glass where he was watching. Like it was saying "hello".

That's what he thought of when he saw the rope of water stretching from the jug, and towards the res he held in his hand.

After a few ticks he shook the memory away and did what he did with the torches and candles: drew it out, then cut it off. It was will, his mind, his wishes made real, and this was no different.

Off.

The water separated from the rest of the pool in the jug, and suddenly the tentacle was flopping and flailing in the air, like a silver snake in freefall. Konrad knew that soon his powers would reach their limit; after a bell of training, he could already feel his muscles growing heavier, his shoulders tight and legs wobbly. But he was... fascinated.

How many more are there to-

He never finished the thought. A spasm of pain ripped through his arm, so hard it flailed madly up into the air, and everything went out of control with it. the res ball spat and fizzled and then exploded gently with a wet "pop". The water dropped straight down into the grass, all form and solidity vanishing, landing like a tiny, localized shower.

"Petchin' idiot..."

He cursed himself and rubbed his arm, feeling the pins sticking in it. They wouldn't subside for a while, either, and wouldn't you know it, he had his traps to check on, too. Konrad sat on his haunches and waited, staring at the mist, drinking the water, waiting for his arm to work again...

Two bells later, and he wasn't in the Pridesun pavilion. The benefits to being in a place for a season, is that no matter how much of an outsider you are, sheer experience means you'll soon knew where everything is.

Like, for example, where to find a pavilion that knows a thing or seven about magic...

Konrad strode down the rough byways and temporary roads that crisscrossed Endrykas. There was, of course, some method to it all: the city didn't just stop at night and all the pavilions arose without a plan. In the center was what Konrad called the "governing" tents. He knew that wasn't the word, but it meant the same thing to him: authority, in whatever guise it took. Spreading outward from them like seven fat fingers were the clans.

One day, he'd remember them all without having to frown into had hand for a chime, as he counted them off on his fingers. But for today, he didn't much care to. He walked swiftly, boots and breeches and vest and hat, bow over his shoulder and everything else a Drykas would-

And that's what you look like. A Drykas.

Three-and-a-half decades of ferocious Sunberth upbringing recoiled in his very blood at the idea, but Konrad the man didn't let it show on his face. Probably because he didn't care too much. Of course he looked like a Drykas: he lived in En-Drykas. What was to be expected?

It was hot and steamy and he preferred the sleeveless top to his sweltering duster. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, because it was bloody long and he hated having to sweep it from his face every five ticks. He carried a bow because he hunted, just like the rest, because he needed to eat, damnit.

He rounded the huge tent everyone called "The Conclave", forever surrounded by chattering Drykas and ankals and whoever else needed their counsel or some other legal bit of reckoning from... well, authority. Konrad paid it no mind. Instead he kept going around and around until, ah-ha, the Sapphire Clan! That's where he would-

Something stopped his feet. He realized where he was. Who was nearby. How many days it had been since they'd spoken... and bugger, yes, he had said that they would meet again.

This is too important! You need answers! She can't-

But she did know about him. His weapons, his scars, his temper, his wyrd; everything he'd shown in that place and some he hadn't, Sloane had known. So why not take her along? Konrad's hand drummed rapid-fire on the thigh of his breeches and he chewed his lip uncertainly. Gods. This was so petching ridiculous. It wasn't like he was going over there to-

"Bug'rit."

He started walking swiftly into the Ruby Clan, passing tents and pavilions and nodding his way through most of it. Not smiling, since it wasn't exactly his way, but deferential, no threat or menace, until he found... a rather small clan, but like a lot of small things, one that was a lot more solid that those who were larger.

"Good day."

The young Drykas carving wood outside the pavilion looked up at him. The usual expression people wore when they saw him: fear and disgust and suspicion, only with little of the first. The Drykas didn't scare easily, and Konrad had heard these Firelash sorts were a hardness all unto themselves. It took only a tick or two for the man to dust off his hands and jump to his feet, returning the Pavi hand gesture of greeting.

"I know who you're looking for."

"Ah..." Konrad looked around and hoped to see her just out. Catch her eye, wave her over and bam, done. He would not be so lucky. "I say to Sloane many day past, we see again." He patted his bow and his sword. "I train. Make good with iron."

"I have heard," the man wasn't aggressive, but he wasn't friendly. Just... polite. If the Pridesun pavilion had been a bunch of ogling, gossiping arseholes about Konrad's visitor, then the Firelash were the opposite. They flat-out resented Sloan'e visitor even being in their air space. "You have eyes for her, I'd wager."

Konrad didn't do polite for longer than he had to. And this arsehole was already getting up his own. His face hardened and he took a step forward. Just enough to see a tremor of concern flicker over the smaller, lighter man's face.

"No. I train. I make good with iron. I make her good. I not touch. Not kiss. Not try to take." He leaned a touch closer. "Or you want say to me I lie?"

He was bluffing, and the Drykas probably knew it. He was a wahlak, not a Horse Lord. He was a bare step above the slave that Sloane was. An outcast, outsider, not properly claimed, just... tolerated. He doubted that without Jonas and his unique little clan, he'd even be allowed to sleep inside at night.

But what Konrad did know, was how to scare people. His glare, his scars, the way his voice ground down like he was chewing bones as he spoke, the heat that radiated off him like a burning iron in a torture chamber. He hadn't even taken a hold of his weapons. He could have been naked, and the threat would have been no less real.

Which might have mattered back home. But this was Endrykas, and he was menacing a Drykas. And one who was glaring back at him and wrapping his hand around the shaft of the spear leaning against the pavilion wall.

Don't do it, boy. Don't make me-

Fortunately, the flap opened a tick later and that future did not need to be explored.

[Sloane]

Sloane turned, making her way quickly to the exit, ignoring the girls sad little faces as they watched her go. She could hear Haigen's step quicken as he tried to catch up with her, but Sloane was closer to the tents exit. "I'm going for supplies." She called back to Hana before ducking out of the tent, pinning Haigen with an irritated glare that did nothing to deter his pursuit. "Girl." He snapped, eye's hard as he followed her, reaching out to grab hold of her arm. Sloane twisted away, moving quickly to distance herself from the Drykas. "Stop, now. I want to speak with you." Sloane growled, face twisting, as she turned, dodging his attempts to stop her. "Don't touch me, vagik." She spat back, refusing to even try to use Pavi in his presence, though she knew he couldn't understand her. Shame on him for refusing to learn common, he can see how I feel. She thought, rounding the corner of the tent and stopping short.

"Hansel!" She exclaimed in surprise, catching sight of where the man stood, face to face with Reagan, Haigen's younger - and kinder - brother. Sloane started towards the two men, smiling, before she noticed the tension between them, Reagan with spear in hand. Her smile fell, and quickly morphed into a frown when Haigen joined them, gaze going immediately to his brother and Hansel. Sloane used the moment to slip away, walking quickly to Hansel's side and tugging on his arm. "Let's go, now." She urged, wanting nothing more than to get clear of the Pavilion, and preferably before Kadir or Edina got involved. Reagen's gaze slid to her, and his expression softened somewhat, though he still looked on edge and defensive.

"Who's this? Haigen asked, gaze going to Hansel now, though it was clear he was speaking to his brother. Reagan shrugged, beginning to look uncomfortable. Sloane generally liked him; he didn't seem the type to purposely start trouble, but she knew that with almost all things he deferred to his brother to lead. "Sloane's walahk friend." He replied finally, and Haigen's eye's narrowed even further, not sparring Sloane a glance as he waved her away. "Get back inside." He growled, and though Sloane only understood bits and pieces of what he said, her glare intensified ten-fold. "Mind your business horse-man." She retorted, hand tightening where she still held Hansel's arm. "I'll do as I wish, and I'd like to see you stop me." It was uttered low, tone aggravated and serious, a true invitation for the other man to try and stop her. However, Haigen's expression remained blank and unimpressed as he watched her, not having understood her words, though the clench in his jaw suggested he'd understood her tone. She held his gaze for a moment, before finally turning back to Hansel, and lowering her voice. "Lets go." She didn't care where, or what he had plans to do, she just wanted to leave the Pavilion, spend some time away from the stifling horse lords.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Of all the things he expected to be, a savior was not one of them. Well, Konrad supposed that was a little much. Sloane was making it clear that she didn't need saving, that she could do whatever the hells she wanted, anyway. He was just being dragged along for the ride. But he was still there, and she clung to him, as if gaining strength from his presence.

And despite that, Konrad winced. Damn. Bad petching timing. Her and that dour, humorless lump storming after her were having a barney, and now he was trapped in the middle of it it like a vole in one of his bloody snares.

She snapped out those last, defiant words to the Horse Lords, and Konrad's manner shifted, ever so slightly. He'd been stiff before, a few hairs away from embarrassed, but at those words... well, he'd seen the aftermath of them before. They weren't just an insult, they were a challenge: "I'm doing so-and-so, and what're you gonna do about it?"

You really are shyke at picking your fights, love.

She pulled him along and Konrad let himself be pulled. Contrary to what many in his pavilion seemed to think, he was alive not just because he knew how to win a fight, but because he knew how best to avoid them. Often, that involved running like a bastard. A coward, some would say, but that "some" were usually the kind of block-headed tossers that ended up very brave, and very dead, and with someone like Konrad going through their pockets.

Nothing could be won from staying, from waiting for Reagan and Haigen to assert themselves with fists and wood and metal. He could kill them, perhaps, protect the girl, but... what would that solve? The pavilion would be after him ticks later, and even after that, the city as a whole would tear them both to pieces.

No. You. Tear you to pieces. She'd be passed on to another pavilion and the whole bloody thing would start over.

"Aye," he muttered as he found his feet. "Let's."

For a chime they didn't talk. They walked swiftly, side by side, eating up the ground and taking a twisty route away from the Firelash abode. But a child could see the words and thoughts warring in Konrad's eyes. The concern and the annoyance. The wish for things to remain as they were, and the understanding that they couldn't.

"Youse gotta start doin' what they say. Y'know that, right?"

He stopped walking and let the words sink into her ears like thunderbolts from a clear sky. Konrad didn't give her time to respond, though he could see the indignation swell her up. He shoved a finger towards her face and kept going, determined to make her see sense, even if she wouldn't damn well follow it.

"Don't gimme that shyke about not lettin' 'em touch youse, either, youse know it's bollocks just like me. You're a slave. I'm a wahlak. We're no' really people to them, we're jus' things t'be used. Youse don' let 'em use ya, they'll beat yeh under yeh do, and if y'still don't, they'll break you."

He paused. So much he hadn't told her, about Kenash and his... "duties", back there, but he reasoned that after first seeing him in the Sea of Gras, she could guess well enough. This was not a man ignorant or innocent of human bondage.

"An' they will. Trust me on that, girl. They'll break yer body an' yer mind an' yer soul if they have to, cuz these horse petchers need babies. You can give 'em that. An' if by some miracle y'don't break? They'll toss yeh out into the steppe or outta the pavilion an' you'll starve."

The last part he wasn't sure of, but it made sense, as long as you didn't think with anything but your logic. The Drykas had their families, their loved ones, their friends, but everyone had a purpose in their world. Everyone had duties and responsibilities. If you couldn't contribute, you were a useless mouth, and thus far, Konrad hadn't seen any of those.

He knew there was a reason for that. There had to be.

Just like he knew it was easy him saying all this. He wasn't the one who had to lay with some flea-ridden horse-petcher and shyke out his spawn like a good breeder. But death... death was always the end of the game. It wasn't a gateway to a better world, or to a new life, it was just... nothing. Blackness. Oblivion. Anything was better than that.

"Jus'... Jus' think about it, yeah?" He said, voice a little lower, noticing the curious glances they were getting. "Y'can't fight 'em forever."

Some distant, mocking voice in Konrad's head laughed good and long over that. Of all the people cautioning patience and sobriety-

But that was Konrad. He wasn't a frothing killer nor a blood-hungry savage. He was a professional. He saw the angles and the bigger picture. He came from a place where every act and body and contract had a dozen threads of consequence leading from it, and you had to know them all. He survived because he thought, not felt. She had to learn that to, or...

He remembered Coryn. The advice he gave her, the last time they met, in that brothel in Kenash.

"Need t'pick yer moment, love."

[Sloane]

They left, and Sloane was eternally grateful when Haigen watched them go but did nothing to stop them, though his jaw was clenched and he was very obviously fuming with anger. Breathing out slowly, she finally released Hansel's arm, walking the short distance silently until they were out of view of the pavilion. She could tell Hansel had something to say, could almost feel the words buzzing in his mind, and Sloane wished feverently that'd he'd stay silent, or at least talk about something completely unrelated. She wondered if this was how the walahk felt when she asked him probing questions that she knew he didn't want to answer, and made a mental note to keep those to a minimum in the future.

"Youse gotta start doin' what they say. Y'know that, right?" Finally, he broke the silence and stopped moving, seemingly taking the situation very seriously, despite how eager Sloane was to ignore it. She didn't meet his eye's, instead letting her gaze wander off to the side, staring down at the dirt and grass. Her teeth clenched at his words, unable to ignore how true they were, her stomach tightening and twisting at the thoughts they conjured. "I know." She growled hoarsely before he could continue. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know exactly what they want and I know they're likely to get it." She rubbed her hand over her face, willing away the frustrated prickle at the back of her eye's. "Doesn't mean i'm gonna lay down and spread my legs like a whore. Gods try, I won't be an easy ride." She snapped. She knew there would be consequences, and she couldn't bring herself to care, couldn't think past the rage and disgust and humiliation that writhed within her at the thought.

"You've got a lot to say, Hans." She snapped, eyes blazing and unable to help the words the came next. "But if you'd brought me to the Pridesun, none of this would be happening." She'd heard talk about the pavilion, of Jonas and the walahks he cared for. She'd heard they were happy, safe from typical Endrykas life, and though the words may have been nothing but rumours, Sloane couldn't help how the thought had lingered with her over the past season. She didn't mean to blame Hansel, and though she was still bitter about their first meeting, out in the Sea of Grass, she didn't truly blame him for the events, at least not in full. It had been a mess of a situation, and despite all else, Sloane was lucky to come out of it alive, for which alone she was grateful. She stepped back and took a few steadying breaths, willing her emotions to calm.

After a long moment she sighed, slow and quiet, eye's going to Hansel, her gaze sad, but determined. "I have a moment, or I will." She started slowly, hesitantly, stepping close to the man and lowering her voice yet again. Next season the city will settle close to Riverfall. A day's ride, maybe two. I'll go then."[/b] She said, voice careful. The plan wasn't even half formed, and Sloane had no assurances that the horselords wouldn't act and lose their patience before that. Regardless, she had hope. Chewing her lip uncertainly, she studied Hansel's face. Days ago, when she'd asked him why he was in Endrykas, he'd told her he'd had nowhere else to go. "You could come with me." She whispered, voice uncertain, but sincere.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Petch me, if the lads at home could see me now...

Konrad would have to admit later that he didn't have any "lads", as other men would have used the word. But he had his reputation, and for two separate individuals to get in his face within almost as many chimes, all defiance and not backing down... and for him to just take it?

There were, of course, logical reasons. In the male's case, he didn't want to cause any more waves than his presence already had. And, tracking any possible fracas to a logical conclusion, it would be suicidal for him. Better to stomach his icy reception and wait for the girl.

The girl, though...that was different. He soaked up her anger without a word, heedless to the queer stares he got from the stream of humanity passing them. Shyke, he should have chosen a better place to stop. He thought about dragging her out of their way but that would only create more problems, more questions, more whispers-

And besides that, she'd probably take my head off.

"Dun' go tryna' shift that shyke on me, girl." As was his way, confusion gave way to anger with little hesitation. Seemed like this snappy little quirm had a problem with her memory. "I was one wahlak with two Drykas wiv' me. Youse went where they decided, not me-" He took a step towards her. Not one of intimidation, like with the Drykas a chime ago, but simply to keep the conversation... intimate. "An' youse can guess how I don't like havin' to let anyone, with cocks or otherwise, tell me what I can and can't do."

Anger simmered between them for a long chime, but was soon replaced by something even more dangerous. Konrad's answering glare, matching the heat of the one she was throwing his way, soon melted as she let him know that yes, she did actually have a plan.

"Shuddup, for petch's sake." His words were instinctive rather than hateful. His flickering eyes were the very picture of wariness, scanning over faces as if he could tell if they'd heard just from their eyes. "Jus'... dun' talk about it, aye? Not 'round 'ere. Never know who could be liss'nin'."

Or what, he added, safely inside his own head. The Web. That massive network of djed that the Drykas could tap into, watching and monitoring all of Endrykas. Every word spoken, every act performed, was stored in the memory of... Kornad didn't know exactly, whether it was the ground or djed or some great entity that they communed with, but it equaled out to the same thing for a man of his profession.

It's like there's a petching grass standing next to you at all times, and you can't just scrag the cunny and be sure of anything.

Then he remembered something that cooled his frustration. Even muted his concern. She'd... She'd offered... well, no, that was... it was more of a suggestion. He could come with her. No pressure, of course. Like, if he happened to be going in that direction as well, he could go with her-

Are you listening to yourself? Focus, damnit!

"We'll see next season," he mumbled, knowing exactly what that sounded like. But he couldn't risk any of that shyke right now, dreams of a future he might not evne live to see. "Jus'... Remember what I said, aye? Be smart wiv' these bastards..."

He didn't speak anymore. Didn't elaborate any further, even though something was pushing him to. She needed to understand, to see how powerless she really was. Sooner or later, they'd put a baby in her. What would she do then? Leave with her belly ballooned up and barely able to rise? Or leave her own child behind? Konrad didn't think she was the type for that. He'd been wrong before, though.

And if she can't? If she's barren? She'd gone. Out. But she has a job here, a purpose. But you... you're just here for as long as Jonas can keep you under his thumb. Which'll be your whole petching life, at this rate.

Konrad bristled at the idea of Sloane coming to that pavilion. She'd be taken in by him, of course; Jonas was impossible to dislike, once he started working his charm. Talking with such sincerity, such truth. He wondered how many others had really seen what he was. The ambition and pride and calculating cold-blood that froze his smile like a grimace. Gods, if he'd taken here there-

Same thing. Same result. A Drykas is a Drykas, and she's a breeder.

"Look," he said, a touch more abruptly than intended. "Came t'see yeh for a reason, aye? So, ah..." He peered around and - gods be praised, the petchers! - saw the perfect prop for his little demonstration. "... over here, I'll show ya."

He was dragging her over to the water trough before she could even start protesting, mirroring her own yanking moments before. He stopped before the trough, a shallow thing, half-empty and filled with water that was hot as the hells and stinking with horse saliva. Even the flies were unsure about it. But it was liquid, and that, if Konrad was right...

"You know what I can do... with this."

He inhaled, and when he exhaled, res was oozing from his palm and forming into a neat little ball just above his hand. Gods, how far he'd come. A season ago, nearly two, he'd had to concentrate, eyes closed and breathing level, for chimes just to get that kind of reaction. Now he could dredge it up within a handful of ticks, small but potent, hanging above the trough.

"An' use if for fire, y'ken? Well... earlier today... I found out..." His words were chopped up and hesitant, the classic sign of a man focusing hard on one thing, to the detriment of something as draining as conversation. "I can do... something else..."

Come... come up here...

As she watched, Konrad summoned the water with his own thoughts. No flame blazed above his hand, no fireball ready to be flung. The green-black orb stayed spinning, and he thought of it like a candle and the water a mass of moths. Yes, that thought was clearly working because-

-the scared man smiled, as slowly, surely, a tentacle of water began to rise from the trough, as if to shake his hand.

"Now," he managed to whisper, focus fading and unwilling to hold it much longer. Not after what happened last time. "m''keen t'know why..."

[Sloane]

Hansel's words caused Sloane to deflate, unable to argue that they were untruthful or wrong in any way. She quietened as he'd told her too, chewing at her lip and looking around cautiously, noticing too late the interest that passing Drykas seemed to have with them. Sighing shakily, Sloane turned back to Hansel, nodding slowly. "Right, I didn't think." She murmured, rubbing at the back of her neck, eye's full of worry and lips pursed into a tight line.

Sloane watched curiously as Hansel changed the subject, casting his gaze around in search of something. Suddenly, the man seemed to find what he sought, and grabbed Sloane by the arm, pulling her along behind him as he went, stopping at a trough of dirty water. Sloane yelped in surprise as she was pulled, staggering slightly to keep up. She couldn't help the amused smile that tentatively crossed her lips. She'd couldn't recall seeing the man so eager, and so she paid careful attention, watching as he held out his arm. The odd trick he'd shown her during their last meeting was repeated, a thick, green mist gathering into a ball above his hand.

Sloane took a step back, half expecting for it to burst into flames as it had last time. Her gaze flicked from the ball to his face as he spoke, and now reassured that it was unlikely to burn her eyebrows from her forehead, she returned to stand by his side, watching expectantly. Hansel was concentrating carefully, and after a quiet moment it paid off, the surface of the water stirring and rising before Sloane's eye's. She gaped, watching enthralled as the water rose, reaching up before them as though drawn to the ball in Hansel's hand.

"That's incredible..." Sloane breathed, unable to tear her eye's a way. She far prefered the magical use of the water than she had the fire, and in fact had to suppress the urge to reach out and poke at the little tendril, or even at the ball of green mist. "How in the gods do you do that, Hans?" She asked finally, gaze flicking up to watch his face. "How did you even learn?" She wondered.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

She stared, her eyes became as saucers and Konrad smiled at the sight. Wonder. Just honest, childish amazement at a new and amazing sight. Sunberth made one jaded to such feelings; Kenash seemed to do much the same. All was either designed to separate you from your purse, or twist you into the thinking of some god or temple... which had pretty much the same result as the first.

Gods. Always needing gold. Wankers.

She asked her questions and Konrad almost answered. His mouth clicked open easily enough, the words dancing on his tongue, quick as you like. Then his brain shuddered into life, self-control like a massive, humorless hand yanking his prancing voice from the edge of a cliff.

A mage cut open my hands and put his wyrd in me... no, he made my own stronger with his own. Either way, I killed him a season later. Cracked his skull in half and then tried to rob him of the money I'd paid him to give me this power.

"Some... ah... I din't learn it, not really." He flexed his hands, staring at the scars om his palms. Noticing the way the white and red lines shifted, puckered, thinned and strained, but always came back. Like his face, he supposed. "Man I knew in Kenash. He... made it so I could do this."

As the ball hovered over the trough, the clear, smelly tendril of water followed it, like an eager seal after a dangling fish. Konrad made a soft sound, almost somewhere between a sigh and a wheeze. Sometimes, he forgot what he could do. The simple... impossibility of it.

He watched her face, and soon she was watching him. So strange, how another could remind you of what you forgot when you were years younger, and your paths were years from meeting.

"I killed him."

His hand clenched. The res ball shrunk and faded and the died into nothing, collapsed into itself. There tentacle splashed back into the water and became just another formless, shapeless body of water, swallowed by a larger one. Konrad met her gaze and held it. It didn't matter if she flinched or glared or flared her nostrils with sheer disgust. He didn't want to lie to her-

Bullshyke.

-she deserved to hear the truth-

No, that's not it.

"Jus' think youse should know who yer invitin' along..."

The words were just for the two of them; so soft and low they barely carried across the air between them. The voice chuckled in Konrad's head and he couldn't ken why. By the time he thought to ponder, the day was moving again. A clutch of trotting Drykas forced by them and Konrad backpedaled as parched Striders dunked their mouths into the water. But as he drew back, arm spread out to push Sloane gently back with him, something he didn't even know he was doing, he noticed the riot of blue splashed across the tent city.

Rows and rows of them, sapphire skies dragged down to earth and roped onto the pavilions that were spread across the ground. The Sapphire Clan. That's where they needed to go.

"C'mon," he said, eyes for the route ahead, not her, striding onward moments after he finished saying: "S'go find some answers, cuz trust me, fire's one thing, but I ain't never been able t'do shyke wiv' water..."

[Sloane]

Sloane's brows quirked as he explained how he'd gain the odd skill, only working to confusing Sloane more. He watched the scars on his hands, and it made sense that they had something to do with them, though she still didn't understand how it would work, to know to do something without learning it. "I killed him." Sloane paused, brows furrowing in confusion as she gazed at him. Why would he tell me... She wondered, feeling incredibly conflicted. After all, it didn't really change much. She'd known of course that he'd have killed in the past, it only made sense, for a man with that many weapons and such knowledge. And of course, she'd known he'd killed his partner, and that was how he'd come to be travelling with Endrykas.

Though she was curious, as always, Sloane didn't ask why he'd killed the man, just returned his stare, calm and collected. It'd happened before they'd met, and so she told herself that it didn't matter, and that learning something from his past didn't change who she knew now. Sloane was about to reply, but was interrupted as Hansel pushed her back out of the way of the large horses making their way to the trough. Sloane watched for a moment as the horses began to drink the dirty water, mouth twisting in distaste. "If you don't want to come with me, you don't have to. Don't think you're gonna scare me off though." She said finally, half joking, half serious, though her tone lost it's jest as she continued. "I still want you with me."

Hansel started off, moving towards the tents making up the Sapphire clan, and Sloane followed, ducking out of way of passing Drykas to catch up to his side. "How did you even figure out you could use water now?" She wondered aloud, glancing from his hands to his face as she spoke. "What about other things?" She continued. It seemed he could use elements, so what of earth and air? Were there other elements that he could manipulate? All questions Sloane longed to ask, but limited herself at first. "Who're we supposed to find that would even know?" She wondered. Sloane knew so little about these strange magics, but knew at least that the Drykas were known for Webbing, and not so much Reimency.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

He could feel the irritation bubbling in him like a pot of water, ready to spit and spew and hurt anything it could. Any other man, he might have been reassured. Even amazed by this girl showing not just beauty - hells, any cunny could do that - but wisdom, understanding, compassion. She was hardly ignorant of what he was, what he'd done, but she didn't understand what it all meant, not yet. As often as he tried to tell her, and couldn't just spit out the words.

When people stay around me too long, they die, he thought as he strode into the district of sapphire pavilions. Usually, I'm the one that kills them. But even if I don't, they still die. Because I don't save them.

"Found out by accident, when I was-yeah, pardon me-workin' on the usual shyke," he grasped the first question he heard properly, wheedling and snaking his way through the procession of flesh and hide and fur. "Only when I wuz-aye, 'scuse me-wuz usin' me res, the water in me jug was poppin' up t'say 'ello. Done that shyke with candles an' shyke before, wiv' fire, but not water."

Konrad didn't know much about the Blue Boys. The Emerald, they were hunters, the Diamonds, they were warriors, the Topaz, some kind of shyke about the law, but the Sapphire... nah, he couldn't remember. All he saw was a shykeload more Drykas, all doing the essential duties of their lives out there in an inhospitable landscape.

But we know better, don't we?

"Friend! Please, friend." The Drykas turned at the casual words and nearly flinched when he saw a face that was anything but. Konrad brushed it away and kept snapping out Pavi, words coming in fits and spurts as they would with any man still learning a language. "Look Rainshard. For magic. Need word."

It took a few ticks of frowning, staring and silently moving his lips around what had just been said for the Drykas to get the point. But Konrad had used the magic word, after all. He raised an arm and pointed out a pavilion that didn't seem to belong... or at least, didn't look too special. The color was muted, the shape was odd, twisted, malformed... but the man seemed sure.

Konrad touched the brim of his hat. "Thank you."

"These blokses're the magic bods inna' Sapphires, or so I 'eard," he switched back to Common and gods, was grateful for her if only because he was able to speak his own damned tongue again. "Not only that, but dey dun' mind talkin' t'folk about it. So, f'I got questions - an' a bloody well do - these lot coulda be the ones t'do me a favor."

He came to a stop before the pavilion entrance. Movement inside. Soft singing. The smell of incense and sweat and sweaty cheese, freshly turned from milk. Konrad paused and raised his hand, palm up. He exhaled and a tiny finger of res leaked from his scar, curled upward and inward and a grape of the stuff was there.

Now... wet.

"Well, petch me runnin'."

It did as it was told. As the two of them looked, the green-black whirl of gas became clear and shimmering. The inside was still gas, a lesson Konrad had learned before: the res was fuel, the flame was the fire. The latter could not exist without the former, so don't burn it all up at once. He assumed the same thing this time, even if he had no bloody clue how you "ignited" gas into water.

But he had to find out. Had to know. So he licked his lips and his other hand reached out... dipped a finger into it... and when he looked at the tip, he felt cold, moist liquid at the end of it. He tasted it and-

"... aye. No mistakin' that."

He squeezed his hand into a fist and his control vanished, with the gesture and a whispered command through his own mind. The res was gone, but the water was not, and he felt a patter of water across his knuckles, like a patter of rain, for just a tick. He shook the excess off and rubbed his hand against his breeches, facing her again before turning to the door.

"A'right. Answers, yeah? Lemme do the talkin'..."