In for a Pounding

[Maeve]

Up ahead Maeve saw the sign for the Proper Lady, the inn she had stayed at for the past few weeks. It was too expensive for her, with her mostly empty coinpurse, but it was the type of place that attracted people who would hire her. Plus, the professional atmosphere kept her calm and reassured her no one would break into her room and steal her things.

She went inside, past a group of patrons caught up in a heated argument, or perhaps a frenzied debate. The discussion was obviously about the weird phenomenon that just happened. Ignoring them, she approached the front desk and said, “Fin! So glad to see you. Working the early shift, I see.” He seemed to be genuinely glad to see her as he returned the pleasantries.

Then he said, “I’m sure you want to know, if anyone has asked for you.” He shook his head. Of course, he failed to mention that he didn’t think anyone would hire a wispy woman like the one in front of him as a bodyguard, anyway. Maeve began to turn toward the stairs leading to the rooms, sighing. Then he said, “But...” She immediately brightened and threw herself forward to lean over the desk, staring at him expectantly with big puppy eyes.

Fin was momentarily distracted by the view of her cleavage and sputtered, “Ah, yes, ahem...” Maeve had that effect on men, even with her cloak on, so she just waited for him to pull himself together. He finally continued as he looked into her eyes, “There was a group staying here that said they were looking for someone to help them. I believe they even hired a gentleman who had walked in here during their discussion.”

Maeve straightened and thought hard for a moment. They’d already hired someone, so what was the chance they’d want someone else? It was horrible luck that she hadn’t been here instead of the man who they’d hired. But this was the only chance she’d heard of, so might as well try her best. Directing a big, fake smile at Fin, she patted his shoulder vigorously and thanked him.

The people were staying here so they were sure to come through the entrance at some point, and she wanted to be able to impress them. If she was dressed in her mercenary finest that would help her case. Decided, she went to her room and donned her leather armor, put her two swords at her waist, and neatly tied her long, black hair back into a high ponytail.

Then Maeve waited downstairs not far from the entrance, her arms folded as she leaned against the wall. She made sure her cloak was loose enough to show the armor she wore. Her entertainment was the overheared argument by some of the (probably otherwise bored) patrons. Some of their theories were downright hilarious.

[Iarei]

Iarei held her hand to her chest. The tightness of strain had eased enough to allow her to breathe, and without that her hand had resumed its painful throbbing. Her bandages were dirty, but she had no supplies to replace them with, and her clothing was fit to be burned. Even had she the means, it was unlikely she'd have the steadiness of hand or patience to fix herself up. The pain, in the meantime, was a fine distraction as she watched Erryl walk away.

She needed a bodyguard. Someone professional. Someone who had more than a few pretty words to motivate them. She took a deep breath, and her mind spun away as she started to plan.

_______________

A man came to the door Dray had knocked at, tall and slender. His face was full of suspicion, and he did not hold the door all the way open as he stared out at the guard. His shop, Farden Charms, was the sort that walked the fine line between backwoods remedies and magical malarkey, and he was always cautious of guards. His family stayed below the shop; hard times was upon Marn, and they rented out the small flat above the shop. That a guard was knocking at his personal door was not something that boded especially well for him or his family, and he was understandably tense.

"What is it?" He asked, a shadow of resentment and fear passing over his face as he watched Dray.

[Drayel]

"My name is Drayel sir, and I am part of the guards." Drayel stated with a bit of a growl. "I'm here to collect information. I wish to know of any abnormalities in the area about a day or two ago. Did you notice anything odd?"

"No." The man said sharply as he stepped back into the house. "I didn't. Good day."

"Listen here man." Drayel's voice turned cold. Hearing it the man's eyes widened as he stared up at Drayel in fear. Seeing the flash of fear in his eyes Drayel snorted as he towered over the man. Snarling Drayel turned his intimidation on full throttle as he loomed over the shaking man. "I am investigating the murder of a group of men who were killed not far away. The killer could still be in the area and if given the chance will probably kill anybody they come across including you and your family. Now I ask you again sir, did you see or hear anything odd sir?"

"No. I didn't notice anything." The man whispered nervously, dropping his gaze to look at the ground. Seeing it as the truth Drayel sighed but nodded anyways. "Thank you for your time. If you should remember anything, please find me. I will see that you will be rewarded."

Drayel didn't even wait for the door as he continued on, his face twisted in frustration. He barely even glanced at the frightened people's faces as he stormed back the way he came. It didn't matter how far he went, these people were too frightened to help. If it wasn't for the crooked guards then he'd have a chance, but now even the legal people feared him. Damn his luck to hell and back.

"Wait sir! Mr. Guardsman!" Drayel jumped a little when a small hand suddenly seized his leg. Startled Drayel looked down at the little girl who had answered the door. Frowning Drayel crouched down to look at her in the eye.

"How may I help you Milady?" He asked her frowning.

"You said you wouldn't hurt Papa right? You said you wouldn't hurt him." The girl asked desperately clutching his leg.

"I said that yes, and I haven't hurt him." Drayel said firmly. "I simply asked him some questions."

"But Papa isn't going to die right? He's gonna be okay?" Drayel blinked as he tilted his head at the child. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she started to sob. Drayel's eyes softened as he gently reached over and patted her head. Looking up at him with teary eyes she hiccuped nosily.

"Why would he die little one? Why are you so scared?" Drayel asked gently as he brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"You said the killer's gonna get us! I heard you! I don't want Papa to die!" She wailed clutching to him desperately. "Papa's gonna die!"

"Quit that." Drayel said firmly as he gave her a gentle shake. "Your Pa is going to be fine. The killer isn't going to get him."

"B-but you s-said-"

"I said I have to catch the killer so he won't hurt you or your family." Drayel interrupted with a sharp snort. "You and your pa are going to be fine."

"You swear?" The large eyes flickered to his as she searched for truth. Drayel felt his stone heart melt as he nodded gently before rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. The passing people stopped and watched this odd display of affection that a guardsman showed in public.

"I swear it to you little one. I will catch this murderer before your family is harmed." Drayel promised. "Now head on home and be good to your parents. They're lucky to be raising a lady like you."

The little girl stared at him for a moment before raising her hands to touch the side of his face with one of her small hands. Running her fingers down her his scar she looked up at him with cautious curiosity. Their eyes met and she smiled up at him.

"Thank you." she whispered softly. "Thank you from me and Papa and Mama."

Drayel blinked before slowly nodding as he stood up. Nudging her with a hand he pushed her gently towards her house. Understanding she headed for her home where her father stared in shock. Trotting away she ran to her fathers open arms. Looking back at Drayel she smiled and waved. Drayel nodded before turning away and heading down the road.

I'll catch him. If not for those men sake then for hers. For hers.

[Iarei]

Erryl moved with a quickly wilting confidence into the inn where they'd been staying. It helped that he had a task, a mission, but he was only all too aware of the oddness displayed by himself and the others throughout the day. Quick entrances and exits, shouting matches and wounds -- minor ones: for the quality of the place they were in, it wasn't normal. Erryl was only too familiar with normal, and he just knew his brother's response to Iarei would be mirrored by most of the people he interacted with on a regular basis.

There would be no going back to that unless he could figure out the insanity first. And anything, anything at all, that came after getting Iarei's things was a blank slate of the unknown, a terrifying precipice that he could not pierce within his scattered thoughts. He was collected enough to go up to the room without making eye contact with anyone, and get Iarei's bag and lute case and go back out while quite deliberately ignoring the clerk. It was while he was studiously turning his eyes from the man that he spotted her.

There were not many beautiful women at the university. Not that Erryl looked, but beauty tended to be noticed, especially when it was worn with confidence and self assurance. She was beautiful, in that understated way that so few women achieved. Maybe it was that he had spent a day with Iarei, whose meager plain prettiness was underscored by her ruthless actions, or maybe it was just the day itself, but he found himself inescapably captivated. His eyes stopped upon her, and he slowly juddered to a halt. It was only a brief second, maybe, that passed before he forced himself to shuffle a step forward, but he could not seem to stop staring at her.

A noise stopped him, maybe, made him realize his rudeness. Prickling heat raced up over his ears and face, and darted down the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to apologize, almost got himself caught by her again, and then hastened towards the door.

_____

The man, Farden, did not like the guards. He didn't much like the city, or anything. A lot of the shopkeepers were like that, the ones in the middle who were neither poor nor rich but dangled handily over the gulf that threatened all of them with poverty. It was a fine balance, that existence, and it rewarded only the cautious and wary. It was bad news to tangle with the guards, to talk with them at all. Worse to let them near your children, and in that moment when Rosenna had darted forward from him, his heart had frozen in his chest, and he had found himself overcome with fear.

Maybe it was the gentleness. Maybe it was that Rosenna had not been pushed aside with a hard hand and a sharp word.

"I . . . I heard someone from the Ale Star saw something. That's all. I'd check there, were I you." He said the words loudly enough to be heard, but they were gruff and recalcitrant. He held Rosenna in his arms as though she might be forcibly taken from him, and fled back into the illusionary safety of his home and livelihood.

[Maeve]

Maeve had started to think the people Fin mentioned would never show. Each time someone came in, she cast a glance at the front desk to see if Fin recognized them from the group. Each time it wasn’t them, Maeve pouted and slumped against the wall more. She was almost ready to just sit down or go somewhere else--she was getting quite a lot of looks, after all--when a young, blonde elf walked briskly through. Maeve didn’t pay him any mind, as he didn't seem the type to need her services: just a young man enjoying his stay at an inn. Perhaps if she had looked more closely at his pensive, ragged expression she would have thought otherwise.

After a few moments passed unremarkably, the young elf appeared again, this time with luggage. Oddly enough, he didn’t go to the front desk to check out. Maeve watched him, mostly out of boredom, and realized with dread that he had noticed her, too. He stopped in his tracks and stared openly. That was an effect Maeve was used to, and had endured similar reactions as she’d waited, but the young elf seemed genuinely stupefied. That bothered her. Maeve blushed and squeaked out as gruffly as she could, “Mind your own business.”

Immediately he turned a bright red and dashed for the door. Maeve, embarrassed, looked down at the floor, not wanting to see anyone else looking at her. Surely that had drawn attention. A bit of panic surged in her and she felt the need to go hide. There was obviously no chance her future employers would come in at this time anyway, right?

Without thinking it through she headed for the stairs to her room. Suddenly she heard a hiss. Startled, she looked up and found Fin trying to get her attention. He motioned at the door and mouthed what looked like ‘that’s them’. She whirled around, but no one else was coming in. Confused, she looked back at Fin and he gave himself little elf ears with his fingers.

Maeve almost groaned aloud. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she faced the door and walked quickly to it. By the time she was outside he was already a ways down the street. He was easy enough to spot amongst the darker locals, so she followed.

The wannabe bodyguard had caught up about half the distance between them when he stopped. It appeared he was meeting someone. As Maeve got closer, she noticed immediately that it was a woman, and she was not in particularly good shape. They stood at the entrance to an out-of-the-way alley.

This was her moment. Finally she could earn some coin in this crummy city! Strolling up behind the elf with all the false bravado she had learned to fake, she said quietly, “I heard you were looking for help?” She rested her hands casually on each sword at her hip, her elbows spread to keep her cloak open and reveal her black leather armor and weapons.

[Drayel]

It smelled worse than he remembered. The random whores and drunks that staggered around made slurred cat calls from across the room while the stench of alchohol and sweat made his nose wrinkle but he forced himself in. Giving the bouncer a wary look Drayel walked through the door and peered around him with a snort. Eyeing the crowds he headed for the bar tender.

"Hello Otak." Drayel grunted as he took his usual stool in the corner.

"'ello Gaurdsman." He rumbled cheerily. "Coming back for a drink again? I haven't seen you in ages."

"No, I'm on duty." Drayel sighed as he leaned on the counter. "I'm investigating. Heard any interesting news?"

"Pidgeons keep crappin' on my porch. Stupid birds need to get shot." Otak growled as his face twisted up at the thought of them. "There's rumors of a ghost that haunts the lower docks, the Berita's house got broke into again. Nothing much past that."

"Anything about a crime?"

The bartender froze. Drayel glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow but Otak wouldn't meet his eyes. In fact he completly turned his back on him. Frowning Drayel watched his back as the tender ran around with a tense shoulders and panicked jerks.

"What's wrong Otak?" Drayel asked frowning. "Do you know something?"

"No." was the hurried reply. " I don't know anything about a murder."

"I never told you it was murder." Drayel growled as he started to stand. His eyes flashed as he glared at the bartender. "What do you know Otak?"

"Leave me be!" Otak spat back. The bigger man turned and glared at him fiercly but Drayel didn't back down. In fact he bristled.

"I don't care if you don't want to say anything." Drayel spat. "But don't you dare lie to my face."

"Leave 'r I get the bouncer!" Otak shouted slamming down a mug. Drayel bared his teeth but got off his stool.

"Thanks for the information." He spat as he turned to the exit. "Talking with you was a pleasant treat."

With that he stormed out the door, mentally flagging the Ale Star. It was clear something was hidden in there and he'd find out even if he had to break through the window to get it.

[Iarei]

Iarei had her back to the wall as Erryl approached her with a red face, clutching her belongings tightly to his chest. He squeezed into the alley mouth next to her, awkwardly handing the items over. The alley was a tight fit for the both of them to face each other; the gap was small enough that an adult could touch both walls. It was a place of damp and dust, where people did not tread often and those who did were not, in the end, worth noticing by those who walked the street beyond.

"We'll make it through this," Iarei said, mistaking Erryl's flushed face as one of fear. He didn't respond, and didn't meet her eyes. It rankled in Iarei that he should be so distant after their shared fear, giving some light to the dim coals of anger that had refused to go out ever since Eyropa. "Is that all?" she asked, prodding him for a reaction.

He nodded, walling her off, and she was carefully studying him when the woman's voice interrupted her. "I heard you were looking for help?"

Iarei's head whipped around, and a caustic demand was on her tongue before she could fully choke it off. "Who are -- " Then she swallowed, took a step back, and forced a grim little smile.

"Oh," Erryl squeaked, "uh. . ."

Iarei didn't look at him directly, but she did notice his skin was deepening in color. Uh huh. Her warning bells rang clarion in her head, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. She'd been running risks left and right, and not much had turned out for her. As if to corroborate that, her hand pulsed in pain, and she clenched it into a tight fist to spite herself. Either she'd be dead, or she wouldn't piss off a potential ally. She was tired. She drew back a little ways into the alley, tugging Erryl with her. She wanted out of direct line of sight to the street.

"May I ask where you heard that from, and who you might be?"

[Mather]

Mather found himself staying at The Proper Lady inn for a few days, mostly for lack of something to do just yet. Marn was a place full of opportunity, if you knew where to look -- of course, Marn was also a wonderful place for getting your arm broken or your teeth knocked out if you prodded the wrong person or poked your face in the wrong business. But for one such as Mather, for whom self-preservation and opportunity-seeking were second nature, the city was a veritable gold mine of money to be made and people to be had. He'd been in his own share of trouble, sure; but for the most part Mather considered himself better off than at least fifty percent of the city's current residence, if only for his generally cheery outlook on life.

But we must all fall on hard times. Mather was without a job, and quickly running out of the coinage to maintain his room at The Proper Lady. Of course he didn't tell the proprietor this bit of information (you'd have to be insane to do something like that), but he realized that if he didn't get some hard bishani sometime soon he'd be sleeping on the street within a few nights. Not that he hadn't done that plenty of times...it was just unpleasant.

Dressed as usual in his well-worn long brown coat and ancient wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his blue eyes, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, Mather slowly wound his way through the various groups of the inn's patrons in the main room downstairs, eventually making his way outdoors -- where the first thing he noticed was a beat-up and hunted looking female standing next to a young blonde elf. They were talking, they looked down on their luck -- Mather couldn't say what drew him to the pair, but his instinct had rarely been wrong before. When the young elf departed into the inn for some reason or other, Mather made his way a little closer to the unhappy woman who remained, taking care not to draw attention to himself. He watched as the elf returned with arms full of various things, and watched as shortly after that another woman dressed in armor and carrying two swords followed the elf out the door and approached the pair with a self-confident air.

Mather couldn't help but listen to the words that were exchanged -- well, yes he could, but he didn't. Help? What sort of help are they looking for? One thing was clear: a potential job was in the offing, and Mather was in sore need of a job. So he made up his mind and stepped clearly into the group's line of sight, tipping his hat as he did so. "If it's help you're after, I'm sure I can be of some no small assistance," he declared, putting on his most charming smile as he did so, purposefully ignoring the well-dressed leather-armored woman beside him. She was clearly mercenary, but perhaps her fees would be higher than this beat-up pair could afford. Mather hoped so -- he wanted this job.

[Drayel]

Drayel growled as he stormed down the old alleys. He was half tempted to go drinking with that dwarf he became drinking buddies with but a hangover wasn't the kindest of things. So instead he cursed under his breath as he shot glares at any nearby passerbyers.

"To hell with this damn city." He grumbled glancing up at a lit window. Nothing new, nothing exciting. Just a damn woman staring at him like he lost his mind. He snorted at her and she blinked before closing her certains, effectively hiding her scarlette face. "Bloody hell. Can't even go down a street without getting a flash of woman in their unmentionables."

Drayel sighed as he turned his eyes to the sky. Perhaps it was too much to ask of, too much to expect. After all, with all the crooked guards around it wasn't a surprise the locals didn't talk to him. Yet something was odd, something behind his back. He grit his teeth. A scheme no doubt, but what kind?

"Father, I wish you were here." he whispered closing his eyes. He could picture their faces so clear, beconing him home with smiling faces and open arms. His chest ached as he grit his teeth, forcing the image back. He needed to be on guard, he was in the city where crime and killers roamed free. Yet even so.... "Please Father grant me help, Mother forgiveness. I shall make you both proud."

He continued his route with a heavy heart. He hated these moments when he thought back. He hated how it made his eyes well up and his throat burn but he always had them. Stoic and cold. Mean and aggressive. That was what he was taught to be. Yet deep past the stone there was a soft spot that would never freeze over and harden. He hated it.

"To hell with this all. I need a damn drink."

[Iarei]

Maeve was regarding Iarei with such stony confidence that Iarei couldn't help the fear that slid up her back to make her neck tingle and her heart beat more quickly.

"I am --" Maeve began, but she was quickly interrupted.
"If it's help you're after, I'm sure I can be of some no small assistance," a new man spoke, making both Iarei and Erryl jump.

Erryl backed up behind Iarei, his face drained of the blush that had moments ago made him look like some underage schoolboy -- which he was -- and Iarei felt her chest vibrate with her beating heart.

"I am Maeve, a mercenary for hire, and I heard of your plight from the clerk at The Proper Lady," continued the woman, loudly, and Iarei had to resist the urge to loudly shush her. "I am of undisputable quality and reputation." A definite sneer, there.

Iarei almost sputtered with laughter. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve such ridiculousness, or posed spies, but the convenience of it could not be denied. She took deep breaths, looking between the two sudden and unexpected prospects, and decided that the Maeve woman's story was believable enough. That fucking clerk would need to be taken care of to ensure he didn't go flapping his tongue at anyone with ears. More likely Iarei would need to find some deep, dark hole to hide in for the time being. One with sturdy locks.

"You?" She asked, dredging her smile back up from the pit of her stomach. It had definite edges now, and she aimed it squarely at the new man.

[Mather]

Mather glanced at the other mercenary woman as she spoke, looking her up and down. She had that classic I'm-a-pro-don't-cross-me stance, combined with I'm-so-good-that-if-you-don't-hire-me-you-must-be-stupid. It was not an attractive combination, and Mather could tell that the ragged woman with the blushing elf boy was not impressed.

Now it was Mather's turn. Undaunted by the decidedly unfriendly smile of the woman by whom he hoped to be hired, he launched into his spiel: "My name is Mather Link, a jack of all trades, a traveler by nature and one who has seen the world. Whatever you need, I'm sure I can deliver, and my rates are quite reasonable."

He did his very best to look sincere and not smug, unlike the mercenary woman beside him, hoping that he would make a better impression overall, despite his scruffy appearance beside the polished and...and shiny woman beside him. His physical appearance might not be all that impressive, but compared to the mercenary's decidedly smug and better-than-thou attitude, Mather hoped he would win out before the ragged woman -- whatever it was she needed done...which he still wasn't sure about. At least the mercenary seemed better informed.

[Drayel]

Drayel groaned as he slumped himself down, his unpleasant scowl vanishing temporarily as his sat in the crickety old barstool. His lips curled back in a lazy yet smug smirk as he settled in, waving a hand at the barman to order his drink. Around him drunkards and wenches staggered over each other, moaning out slurred pickup lines and fish tales. Normally he would simply roll his eyes but today he was just too damn tired.

"A pint of ale." He grunted as he propped his head up with a hand. "Somethin' to eat too."

"Bread, cheese, and a bit of sausage sound alright there Sir Guardsman?" the bartender snorted as he cleaned a nearby mug. "Aren't plannin' on drinking too much again are ya? We don't want a rerun of what happened last time."

"No, indeed we don't." Drayel said bowing his head apologetically. "I will try to avoid drinking that much."

"Good." came the sharp snort before the barman turned away. "I don't want to fight off any more drunken guards off my Anna. Understand me, boy?"

"Yes sir." Drayel said trying to fight down the blush that crept across his cheeks. "I will do my best to remain sober. Speaking of the barmaid, how is Anna? Has she had any other... um.... problems?"

"Since you ya mean? Nope. The occasional groper but nothin' we can't handle." Drayel nodded again as his eyes scanned for the barmaid in question. "Why?"

"Simple question for her well being. Nothing more." Drayel shrugged as he turned back to the barman. "Tell me though while our conversation's going, whats the gossip around the alley way murder?"

[Iarei]

Money was a thought that made Iarei pause. She hadn't thought to consider rates; she put a high price on her own head, after all, and ordinarily wouldn't spare a thought about getting her moneys' worth. But she also had an injured hand, and a strange sidekick who almost reminded her of her Boy who was thoroughly distracted by the beautiful mercenary. That was a weakness, an opening that she couldn't afford.

The woman was the sort that would catch attention, too. More than Erryl's eyes would linger upon her, wherever they were, and she oozed a sense of prosperity that would cause trouble in the places Iarei planned on going. Maybe the Link fellow would turn out to be worthless. But he wouldn't catch unwanted attention. He would be able to blend in.

Erryl was silent behind her, but Iarei didn't stop to think for a moment about what he might want.

"You," Iarei said, pointing at Mather, "come with me. You go back to wherever you came from." The last was directed to Maeve, who stiffened within her remnants of broken pride. Iarei ignored it, gesturing to Mather to precede her out of the alley's mouth.

"Exactly what are your skills? Are you proficient with violence? Follow me, we'll discuss rates on the way."
____________________

Another of the barmaids sidled closer to listen to Drayel and the barman's conversation. "A murder in an alley, is't? What a gaff if it turns out to be Drunken Molly got 'erself slit." She smiled wide enough to reveal a few teeth, but it faltered when the barnman turned a severe expression upon her. "Wot? She's some sleazy 'ore, everyone knows it. Gonna get 'erself a red necklace some day if y'ask me."

[Mather]

Mather could barely help a self-satisfied grin sliding into position on his face as the ragged woman made her decision. He tipped his ratty broad-brimmed hat to the other mercenary, who looked positively outraged, and then did as his new potential employer gestured and preceded her out of the alley.

"Mm, violence? You bet," he answered her question. "Not much of the thunderous brute type, meaning I prefer not to go head-to-head with blokes -- too easy to lose the advantage, I sez. But all other sorts I've had plenty of practice with -- what exactly are you thinking you need me for?" he asked, looking slant-wise at the ragged woman. "And I'm thinking I need to know your names, too, before we go talking about anything else."

[Drayel]

Drunken Molly? Drayel frowned hard as he glanced suspicously at the nosy wench. He snorted as she gave him a toothy grin. He stared at her hard, his face barely twitching as he thought over the name. It sounded familiar..

"I'd worry about my own neck if I was you." The barman said snorting at the barmaid. "Keep that tongue waggin' and the next body might end up bein' you."

"On that topic, who is this Drunken Molly?" Drayel asked taking a swig of his ale. "Should I know her?"

The barmaid and man exchanged looks before glancing away again. The barman cleared his throat before resuming cooking Drayel's meal. "Well... ya see...."