Open Chronicles A Slip

[Kala]

Ragash

Kala held her side, scowling as another wave of pain hit her from where the arrow had planted itself.

This was supposed to have been an easy job. The word she'd gotten from her contacts had said the Palace had been all but abandoned, but when she'd broken into the damned place there had been a Sorcerer just sitting in the study. A fireball had been flung in her direction, and before she'd known it a dozen guards swarmed all around.

Somehow she'd managed to get away, though an arrow had managed to find it's way into the side of her abdomen. The haft had been broken off, but the tip remained buried to staunch the bleeding.

Her fingers were wet with blood, and she squatted down in an alleyway in order to catch her breath. "Shit."

Kala said to herself quietly as she reached into the Satchel at the small of her back. The cards were still there, but using the one she needed most in her current state would be incredibly dangerous. Slowly she stood, poking her head out of the alleyway and into the night markets.

She could see some of the guards in the distance, though no alarm had yet been raised.

The Tiefling scowled. She needed a way out.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

It was an odd shift of events that led the mage-turned-boatwright through the streets of Ragash. A fairly lucrative proposition had been offered to him for churning seawater, converting foam and the passage of time into something tangible and preferably lustrous. The offer, naturally, was not his first foray into transactions processed across the sands of Amol-Kalit. In fact, it was his network of coffers that spanned from the Gulf of Annuak up into the Trident that made him such a strong candidate for planting a rudder in the deep and strafing hard through blue and green algae.​

​

As a mage, he had managed to turn the portal stones from meaningless rocks into vehicles of commerce. A traipse through the ether and the vacating of stomach contents not long after meant that he didn’t spend the better part of a year taking up a contract. Surely cutting across the peak of the Seret mountains was preferable to crossing the Aberresai or taking the long way around.​

​

Base metals, extracted from precious ore, were anticipated at the mouth of the gulf and promptly upon the foreshore of Annuakat. But when Lazarus had planted the bow strictly between parallel wharfs and expected transaction, his time was spent with feet propped up on barrel tables throwing dice across peeling tar. The blue walls had greeted him soundly and would quickly bid him farewell, with tidings of prosperity as the ship rode the tributaries of the Baal-Duru River and upon confluence, strode down the Baal-Asha River to eventually kick back out into the Akea-oma’o sea. But not before stopping at Ragash and offloading the metals at a 15 percent loss.​

​

“Two.” Index and thumb finger jutted outwards, revealed by the flickering torch light of a nearby oil lamp. “Two skewers. Mix the meat, if you will.”​

“One.” The human vendor responded back, idly turning meat on metal rods above a spitting flame.​

​

The magician's gaze narrowed as he shook his head. “Give me one now. And one after.”​

“One.” The Kaliti responded, once more, before offering the skewer. ​

​

With a heavy sigh, Lazarus took the skewer and replaced it with a bit of coin. Praise and gratitude was met with a quiet scoff as he turned, looking for the quickest alleyway route from the Bazaar to the port. He wasn’t particularly comfortable in a pickpockets preferred environment so he was quick to make his way out. Even if he was absent a full stomach.​

​

That was when he spotted the Tiefling though he, initially, paid her very little mind. Passing her by, his nostrils flared as he took a bite of the tender meat and felt the warmth of the grease trickle down the ocean spray coated stubble. Even over the still steaming meat and the generally non-hygienic smells of the alley, he could smell blood. And desperation. And magic.​

​

His pace slowed to a halt.​

​

“You know…” He shook his head, looking towards the Tiefling and pointing the skewer back in the direction of the Bazaar. “Nothing in the night markets but melancholy and the disposition of stolen prosperities. It’s a place for thieves and mediocre wares, innit? You ply coin for beef and they spring up rats impaled on wooden dowels.” He knelt over and narrowed his gaze, once more. “That an arrow shaft...right? Not much for the wound to wisdom ratio on that…’less you pull it out? Hmm, that might be a valuable lesson.”​

 

[Kala]

Kala took half a step back when the man stopped in front of the alleyway. At first she thought he was a guard of some sort, but when he didn't immediately draw a sword and threaten her life with jail or murder she relaxed just a little bit.

Though not much. "Well I've never really been one for lessons."

The Tiefling said with a scowl down towards the arrow shaft still sticking out of her side. Blood trickled down her skin still, and waves of pain emenated from the wound every few seconds as she took shallow breaths. She swore she could hear guards closing on, her ears twitching violently in paranoia.

"Say." Kala began as she peeled passed the man. "You're not a doctor are you? That would be handy right about now."

That or maybe a fellow thief.

You couldn't trust thieves, not really, but at least you could dangle something shiny in front of their eyes to get them to help you.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

Not that he was one for particular prejudices but when she admitted not being one for lessons, he rejoined with a nod of agreement. An assumption based solely on her current predicament. It would have been difficult for her to not have learned this lesson some time ago. Bits of stick are better when not punched into the flesh.

Furrowing his brow in an outlandish expression, he took a quick bite of the skewered mystery meat and shook his head. "No, not among my talents, love. Though I do keep a barber surgeon among my employ..." His free hand gingerly raked his jaw line, from neck to chin. "For the scruff, naturally."

Lazarus watched as she passed, leveling her with a measured gaze. "Is the shaft..." He cleared his throat. "Can you feel the tip at your back. Won't help much for the pain now, but it might later." He grunted as she continued to walk.

"Wouldn't tread that route, though. Your leaking is bound to give you way. Guards roam the night markets for pickpocks and lads who look leeringly. 'Less your plan is to seek out their help, hmm? Might look kindly towards a bit of roughery, escort you to the Bimaristan for a tinge of sluffing and medicaments?"

He imagined that wasn't the case which would explain why a wounded Tiefling, covered in runes and bleeding profusely, would be hiding in an alleyway and doing her very best to obscure the severity of her wound.

 

[Kala]

Kala had to blink at the man's pecular accent. She had never quite heard anything quite like, and she'd heard a Rous trying to speak common more than once.

Her lips thinned as she tried to narrow down what he was saying, though eventually she caught wind of it all. At least she thought she did. Whoever this man was he certainly had a way about him, even if she wasn't entirely sure what that way was. "I've had no disagreement with the city guard, but I think I'd rather not answer any questions they might have."

Kala agreed with a nod of his stated fact. She imagined Ragash City Watch would not look kindly on her...recent attempts.

"A barber surgeon sounds better than nothing at all though." She said, moving a hand from her wound a second. "Even if there is a bit of pain at my back."

Kala didn't know enough about Arrows to understand why it would help her later, but she could feel the metal almost threatening to poke all the way through every time she moved.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

"No one fancies undue meddlin', I conjure...Not an admission of guilt. Though, I imagine they may not see eye to eye on that prospect." He weighed her once more with a reluctant gaze, thoughtfully chewing on a bit of char. Lifting a finger to his mouth, he scraped some of the black carbon from his lips and spit it out. Or attempted to spit it out. It turned into a awkward fluttering of his lips, as if a beard hair had been caught on the tongue.​

"Right. Well nothin' comes free in this world or the other. Fair to say that's a lesson you've learned amidst all your unfortunate events." He turned and waved the skewer, talking to the empty and dark air that separated them and the long set of stairs that would eventually lead to the port. "That ways the guard. This ways my cutter. Boat...not the surgeon. He's got a name though few can pronounce it."​

Lazarus stopped, taking a look back at the woman from the cusp of his shoulder. "You can walk, can't you. I'd offer to help but I don't rightly trust you. Pickpocks, as I said. And I haven't had reason to run leather through the loops in some time. You understand."​

It wasn't stones that weighed him down but instead a thick bit of parchment. Nothing more than scribbles but it carried a stamp and value, serving as both a bill of lading and a check to be cashed in Elbion.​

 

[Kala]

"Fair enough." Kala commented with a grunt as she stepped to the right and fell in by his side.

In the back of her mind she was thankful that she'd actually managed to take something from the palace.

He was right in the fact that Kala knew everything cost money. No matter how much of a samaritan someone claimed to be, there was always a price. Same with magic she supposed, though she hopes that wasn't going to come into play here.

Her fingers tightened gently around the wound on her side, and with a quick tug she pulled her vest a bit tighter in order to conceal some of the blood.

It was then that she caught sight of what he'd mentioned earlier. City guards wandered through the Market Square, all of them in a bare uniform that clung to their skin. She shirked slightly, glancing down at the ground and moving in the shade of the man guiding her in hopes she would be taken as a servant.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

The rectangular perimeter of the Bazaar served as an appropriate designation for vendor related activities. But, Lazarus had assumed, that despite the disposition and preference of the permitting office for containing fare and mercantile based commerce within the Bazaar, they had long ago lost the battle of autogenic economic growth. Space within the rectangle was limited and despite the wealth and prosperity of Ragash, there was no clear indication of plans towards developing more space. Based on the boatswains general propensity for mistrust in economic chambers, he could only imagine that the permit requests just continued to increase in cost as demand increased while spacial supply remained steadfast and purposely concrete.​

​

So like jam pressed through a once tightly manufactured sandwich, the fiducial boundaries began deteriorating between where the Bazaar ended and the alleyways began. Rubes from all over could now more freely express themselves as they skittered down passage ways and alleys, plopping down stained peppermint umbrellas or tarpaulin tents where space was allotted. And since the guard had evidently given up on the enforcement of city ordinances, their beat had shifted from a rectangle into a rectangle with tertiary veins of cobble and sandstone that spanned the distance between Bazaar and the breezy water of the Baal-Asha.​

​

It was an unfortunate thing that led the pair, walking in an awkward single file, down the stairs to a plateau. The long leveled path opened up to the view of the port below while the opposite side was pocked by vendors of various wares, like the fringes of an unfinished tapestry currently free of edge bindings. The smell of meats were interrupted by the clang of metal which was preceded by a cat caller, sending out codes for a little back way tussle at a impressively affordable price. Or so the advertisement went.​

​

Ahead of them, a pair of guards were striding by with a less than purposeful gait. "Oye..." Lazarus looked over shoulder. "Bundle up now and keep your words to yourself, hmm? Let the chitters do the chatting, alright?"​

 

[Kala]

Kala didn't say a single word, only nodding In quick agreement as she spotted the guards slowly skulking towards them.

This was not the first time she had been in a similar situation, though it was her first time doing it will injured. The pain on her side was growing worse as her adrenaline faded, and she could almost feel the arrowhead slowly shift about in her flesh as they kept walking.

Kala took deep steady breaths to stem the tide, though she suddenly stopped when her downward gaze caught the boot of a guard just in front of them.

"Hey."​

One of the men spoke up, his common tongue almost as broken as the man escorting her.

"Don't see many of her folk around here."​

Kala bit her tongue. Ordinarily she would have lashed the man with a quick rebuke, but she knew that speaking would only put them both in danger. In the back of her mind she wondered why her crime had not been reported, but none of that mattered in the moment.

"Whats your purpose on the market?"​

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

Lazarus cupped his hands together, hanging right around his mid, and took on a properly insulted pose. "Scuse me?"​

"We don't see her kind around her often."​

"Well, it's good to know that at least my hearing is on the up and up, hmm?"​

"Excuse me?" One of the guards responded, almost mimic the man's accent.​

That didn't sit particularly well with the boatswain. ​

"I fail to see how mine or my harlots business in the markets is any of yours."​

"Your harlot?"​

"That's right. You hard of hearing or what? My accent a bit thicker than your muddled bit of grey matter, is it?"​

"Your testing our patience, pirate." One of them responded, clearly bewildered by the man's aggressive nature. ​

It was starting to attract a bit of attention.​

"Yeah? And your testing my mettle. In both the cognitive sense and in the physical." Lazarus tilted to the right, inspecting the hardware hanging from the mans breaches. "Fore you start rattling them rapiers, you best pay mind to the quality. Those are from smelted Seretian Ore. Can tell by the smell of it. You know where Serenias, your quartermaster, gets his assortment from? Hmm?"​

Lazarus tapped the end of the wooden skewer against his chest. "That's right, boys. Yours truly. Now, I'm not one for bringing politics into bed because as you can see..." He waved the skewer towards the Tiefling. "I'm of a refined sort. But if you continue to raz me and mine, I'll have to cinch off your supply and you'll be chasing down paupers with chipped carbon and a spectacularly ironic sense of regret. Understood?"​

That left them a bit speechless.​

"That's what I suspected. Now, retrograde your slippers back down the causeway 'less I have reason to doubt the sincerity of our conversation." He waved them off and surprisingly, they followed his direction. Once they cleared back down the stairs, Lazarus looked towards Kala and pointed towards the stairs. "They're going in our direction. But I imagine that bought us some time." He paused. "Us? You? One of us...hmm." He resisted a shrug and continued down the path.​

 

[Kala]

"Thanks." Kala grunted, apparently not at all insulted at being called a Whore.

Better to be something you weren't than a corpse she figured. For a brief moment she hesitated at the top of the steps, watching after the guards for a few seconds before glancing at her companion and continuing onward.

The arrow in her side was now causing her clear discomfort, every step being more labored as sweat began to bead upon her brow. "I can't tell if you were lying or not."

Kala said, swallowing hard as she took another step down and felt jolt of pain in her side. She swayed slightly, catching herself against the wall with her other hand before taking a deep breath and collecting herself.

"About the ore I mean." The Tiefling clarified in a shaky voice as she continued down the steps and onto the lower landing.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He sighed as he ruffled about in his pockets, looking up towards the Tiefling from a few stairs down. Once he had found the bit of parchment, he removed his hat and meticulously placed the paper in the lining. It was clearly for safe keeping. For the time being.

Once the hat was back to sitting firmly upon his crown, he gave the flat top a prudent pat and moved languorously back up the stairs. Taking a stance beside Kala, he wrapped his arm around her waist and shifted some of her weight to him. He was, once again, deceptively meticulous. He was careful to not apply pressure to the wound.

"Doesn't really matter one way or the other, does it love? First sign of uncertainty is like spalling at the edge of a crevice..." He helped her take a few steps and then eyed a few vendors who had taken up an unfortunate amount of interest. Lazarus lifted his free hand to his mouth, cradling the wood skewer between his pinky and ring finger, and made the universal sign for consuming libation.

"Jus' takes a bit of chiseling is all 'at is. Force pressure where the fear lives. Even scamps with long shadows crumple like rotten metal when the mark is properly stricken. Hmm?"

 

[Kala]

"Where the hell are you from." Kala grumbled slightly as she once again struggled to even understand what he was saying.

His touch brought her no small amount of pain, but she was grateful for it. An odd sort of relief washed over her as Lazarus clutched her side, likely just from no longer having to stand on just her own two feet.

She pointedly did not try to fish for his purse.

The man was helping her, for a price, but he was still helping. Besides, she had never really been much of a pickpocket. Her game was the larger items. A frown touched her features as he addressed the merchants, and she allowed her head to loll. "Bb-ut mwaybe we could find another tav-HICCUP-ern."

Kala feigned drunkenness as they stepped past the merchants.

Her nod came as he explained his game though, an odd sort of respect forming.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He ticked his tongue in response to her first question, bypassing her statement regarding taverns and the coerced hiccup. It might have been enough for her to stagger and remain silent but, he wagered, the story of a harlot was better told from loquacious and eager lips.​

Even if should have approached something more intrinsically surreptitious, Lazarus had reckoned the whole ordeal was an ongoing success.​

"Now now, that, my dear, sounds like a question. A stone's throw from meddling. And hammers to anvil, I consider myself a passionate epicurean of steadfast dispositions, particularly regarding taciturnity. At least, when it comes to things of significance." They came down another step towards a flat walkway that ran smoothly towards the port. Below, the cobble pathway bled out into multiple docks that were populated thoroughly by a variety of different vessels. ​

Some large, some small. Sleak, crude, purposeful, and vanitous. It seemed bent wood, nailed and lacquered together, came in all forms.​

"Perhaps the origins are not as important as the destination, huh? When we've sorted out the flames and stomped the powder, calamity don't rightly care where the embers come from...So, which vessel...which one has the barber surgeon?"​

He stopped as they came to the docks, where stone turned to planks of wood that creaked and moaned against the tide. Azure gaze, lit by oil lamps suspended from blackened arms of steel that ran the dock, shifted from one vessel to another. "The water chops like a butcha's cleaver. Powerful and to the point but I wouldn't trust it. Wouldn't trust it at all." Curling his lips inward, a sharp whistle pierced the otherwise water-born tranquility of the wharf. Before them, a galley spit out a ramp from starboard, just above the water line.​

 

[Kala]

"Fair enough." She said, slowly feeling the loss of blood that was now plaguing her body.

Things were starting to get woozy, and Kala was pretty sure if it wasn't for the mans support she already would have tumbled off the dock and into the waters beneath. Her head spun, but she tried to keep her feet steady.

"You know." Kala began as they stepped onto the gangplank.

"You say a lot." The Tiefling commented. "While actually saying very little."

A curious gift that she had found most notably in politicians and men of money. Kala wasn't entirely sure if this man was either of those things, but the way he spoke certainly reminded her of it. It made her already spinning head turn even worse.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

"Mmm..." He grunted back, eyeing the vessel as if it were his first time. Stepping across the gangplank, boundary indicated by waving banisters of hemp line, he smiled. "Silver's likely to tarnish when not in use, hmm?"​

​

The boat creaked and moaned as it moved with the water, intermittently knocking against the wharf. Everything, including the construction of the ship and storage of goods, was set up to mirror the movement of water. Things drifted and lights held in the hull flickered in the breeze that passed from lower hull entrances to the deck hatches, left open when the rain let up.​

​

"Mr. Minaris. You left for quite some time."​

"Terzine...we have a guest. Seems she's got bits of things where they shouldn't be."​

"Unfortunate predicament, indeed."​

​

The smell of tar and sour wood was overtaken with a breath of fresh hair, mixed with salt and overpowering herbs. Before them, a man had casually stepped down the stairs from the deck to the interior hull. He was old, but hardly decrepit, and carried himself as if he were far lighter than his gangling exterior would suggest. Grey mutton chops, grey hair that preceded a profoundly receding widow-speak, and clothes that seemed to cater to a finer time. His garb was mostly of leathers, supple and without salt coating, and bags and baubles hung from his jacket. Tucked beneath his left arm was a leather satchel and an adhered tome of unknown content.​

​

"You smell of blood and duplicity, my dear." He held up a finger to prevent any rebuttal. A thing that drove Lazarus mad. "Not insults. Quite the opposite. Now come, you have come too far to stop now. A few more steps and we'll be in a place of healing and recuperation." Terzine held out his hand for Kala to take.​

 

[Kala]

It was much easier to understand the second man, something that she would be sure to point out later when it didn't feel like the entire world was turning upside down. "Lo-los-lost a lot of blood."

She commented quietly as she took the man's hand.

Some part of her in the very back of her mind was screaming at her that this was all a very bad decision. Kala didn't know these men, didn't know their quality. For all she knew they were going to fix her and then slap a collar around her neck.

The man who'd originally found her had seemed nice enough, but then again so did a lot of men didn't they. Her head shook.

I don't really have a choice. A voice in her mind spoke to her, but at this point Kala wasn't entirely sure whether it was her own or not. As she took another step forward the swing of the ship caught her. Vision faded, and slowly Kala veered into the 'doctor'.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

It was a fortunate thing that Terzine had been there to catch the Tiefling. Had it been on Lazarus for the reception, Kala would have smacked the stairs due to his distraction on the arrangement of lantern shields across the top shelving of the interior hold.

~

"Tell me...Mr. Minaris. Are we to make a habit of picking up strays?" Terzine uttered quietly, moving across the wardroom as he removed various medicaments from his satchel.
"I told ya once, I won't tell ya again."

Terzine held up his hands submissively. "Of course, my apologies Captain. But the question remains."
"Not in a habit of leaving the bruised and battered to sort out their wounds. 'Sides, we got swindled a hair and I wasn't feeling particularly charitable to the local constabulary."

The room rocked as the vessel shifted in the chop. The wardroom was littered with barrels, some upright and some on their side. Various tables were spread and covered in puddles of wax. Freshly lit candles had been plopped in the piles and lit to give the room a warm illumination. Towards one side, the sound of clattering pots and pans could be heard and the smell that followed indicated the preparation of some sort of meal.

Lazarus was propped back in a swing chair, fashioned from thick galley line that had been repurposed from barrel nets to furniture via looping through the overhead joists. Kala, as she would find when she awoke to the barber surgeon tending her wounds, was on a linen stretcher in a section of the wardroom that was rather open but adequately suited towards the tending of care.

Terzine moved to push the Tiefling on her side before working on extracting the arrow. "I imagine for this sort of endeavor, there might be a favor involved?"

"I imagine..." Lazarus smiled as he started rocking himself, boot pressed against the floor. "In the churn, stone and copper all sink the same."

 

[Kala]

Kala let out a rather pathetic whimper. "I've never been good with pain."

She earned quietly, fingers curling ever so slightly against her side as the barber surgeon began to do his work. Kala still wasn't entirely sure what the hell had brought her here or how the Guards had even gotten the arrow to hit her. It all seemed...so strange.

A strong wince jerked through her body as the man pulled at the arrowhead, her eyes closing as she tried to fight back some tears.

"Can you understand him?" She asked the Surgeon, glancing at Lazarus. "I swear I've had easier times talking to Rous."

There was a pause as she felt another spike of pain, and then she added. "No offence."

She said softly.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

Terzine was as dutiful as he was graceful in extracting the arrow. So much so that Lazarus imagined there was no substantial difference in the arrows presence verse removal and in some cases, may have even felt like relief. As he removed the shaft, he replaced it with a bit of bandaging and indicated for the Tiefling to hold her hand over it. It was, naturally, more than just gauze. It stunk to high noon of herbal remedies and would properly heal and deter infection until the time came for more permanent solutions.​

​

"Yes, quite easily actually." The barber surgeon replied as he inspected the tip of the arrow above a candle, held in a silver candelabrum against the top of wine barrel. "He means that payment can come in many forms. And that he hasn't settled on yours." Terzine cleared his throat, lifting the arrow tip to his nose. "No poisons. It's fortunate on the shape, too. Dodged your major organs. One needs but to take a sniff to know things will heal properly."​

​

Lazarus had disassociated himself, momentarily, from the conversation. Lifting the grease coated skewer to the fire, he waited for the shaft to turn embers before placing it against a pipe. Cradling the bowl in his hand, he took a few puffs before waving the stick around.​

​

"I must admit..." Lazarus stated, leaning back in the swing chair. "I claimed you flapper for the constabulary but, by all estimations, you make for a better nose-bagger. No offense...gossamer and concealment don't grow on trees. So, if you don't mind, I believe a bit of chaunting is in order."​

​

Terzine looked over his shoulder, tapping the arrow against his pale hand. "He...uhh...would like to know why you had an arrow in your abdomen."​

 

[Kala]

Kala shirked away from the pain, but managed to hold still long enough for the surgeon to do his work. Fingers tightened and loosened, a practiced motion that gave her some sense of relief even if it did nothing at all. Her lips thinned, and she took in a deep Shakey breath.

"Overzealous guards." She said with a slight frown.

Things were still rather hazy, but she remembered everything before she'd gotten hit just as well as she had before. Lips thinned in thought. The guards that had attacked her hadn't been in the same uniforms as those they'd encountered in the square.

"Wait." She corrected herself. "Not guards I don't think. They weren't looking for me."

Had something else been going on in that palace? "I was...exploring one of the places here in Ragash, I accidentally stepped into a room and men clad in armor chased after me. I escaped off the property but was given this as a parting gift."

Kala sounded cohesive, but her voice was still somewhat shaky.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

"Exploring?" Lazarus smiled sardonically as he looked over to the Tiefling. Terzine was padding the poultice and working on preparing some medicaments for the suturing. A needle, some thread, and some specially acquired narcotics to dull the pain around the wound.​

​

"And of course, such exploring was done on the up-and-up, hmm? This is strictly a matter of undue persecution, is it?" He took a puff of the pipe and eyed the barber surgeon. "No offense, luv. But I'll confess I took you for a cracksman playing the crooked cross. Don't know enough about you to assuage my suspicions of drawing the long bow."​

​

Terzine held up his hands defensively. "Not an actual bow, my dear. He means he took you for a thief, going about burglary. And while he is open to be persuaded differently, he's not yet convinced this isn't a matter of telling tells."​

​

"Much obliged, Terzine." Lazarus looked back towards the Tiefling. "Got a smidge of powder. Surgeon here likes to rub wounds prior to stitching. You mind?"​

​

"Can I anesthetize your wound prior to suturing?"​

 

[Kala]

Kala let out a grunt. She wasn't exactly in the best state to be lying she supposed, and the man could read her too well with how she was.

"Yes." She agreed to the surgeon, and then let out a long drawn out sigh.

It seemed that Lazarus wanted more than a few fancy words, and in truth she couldn't exactly blame him for that. Her lips thinned and she began again.

"Yes I am a Thief." She admitted. "I had a tip about the Palace, a certain jewel was there while the master of the palace was not."

Kala scowled. "I made it passed all of the sentries and the wards that were supposed to be there, but when I got in there were these other guards like I said."

A fact that she still found incredibly frustrating.

"They weren't supposed to be there." Her informant wouldn't have betrayed her either. It didn't make any sense.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

"Can't fault you for wanting shiny things, luv. Baubles and ornaments fetch a pretty pittance from time to time." He stated, rocking once more in his swing chair. The Barber Surgeon had taken to mending the wound with an initial application of diluted narcotics, followed by slow suturing.​

"Maintenant, let me see if I granny the circumstance proper." He moved to studying a particular joist that had taken on some rot. "You got yourself a blower..." He paused.​

"Informant." Terzine uttered, putting another stitch in.​

"You saunter about feather daisies, attempting a proper hoisting of non-snide antiquities or otherwise."​

"Uhh..."​

"But when you got your trotter cases to the final stretch, low and behold you are faced with surmounting odds, keen nobblers, and the nonplussed expectations of pugilism. Hmm? And what do you suspect would happen if they catch you? The clink or perhaps you get to dance on nothing?"​

Terzine stopped stitching for a moment, furrowing his brow. "Long and short, he understands your situation."​

"I do." Lazarus interrupted. "Though I don't suspect this...informant...is the dandy we expect him to be." For just a moment, his terminology became succinct. "But more importantly...what was your plan, luv? Hmm? Tail down in the alleyways, leaking and hoping for the best?"​

He really wasn't sure why but the idea of this going South had gotten under his skin. He wasn't one to raise a nose at the profession and, as it were, he had even taken part when times were tough. But this not only seemed botched but utterly absent any contingency.

 

[Kala]

"After I got out it all went to shit." There had been an escape plan, but that had sort of gone out the window when an arrow pierced through her side. She could have used her magic to escape, but it would have been tricky with the wound. "Plan didn't account for bleeding out."

She glanced down slightly, spotting the barber surgeon stab the needle through her skin. She had to fight the urge to throw up.

"But..." Her lips thing. "I don't think those men wanted the Ragash City Watch to know they were there either."

They had stopped chasing her after a little while, and when she and Lazarus had encountered the Watch there had been no alert that had yet gone out. A Thief in one of the Palaces? That should have been enough to rouse the city a bit.

Yet as far as she was aware nothing of the sort had happened.