On the Northeastern coast of the Iuk-'u Delta was a tiny settlement of wooden homes and moldy shacks, a pitiful excuse for a port to small to even be called a village. Port Iuk rarely had visitors this time of year, existing largely as an entry point for scavengers, those that seek out relics and ancient resources during the dry part of the year. During the rest of the year, when the water level rose in most of the Delta, the port was largely empty save for the locals that maintained it. As the morning sun rose, a few beleaguered settlers exited their homes and began the upkeep of their homes as well as the docks.
A young man slept in a mostly empty tavern, slumped against a wall. Bone white hair covered part of his face as the sounds of morning, chaotic though they were in these lands, began outside the building. Dim light drifted in through the windows as another figure crept towards the sleeping man. The other man paused a moment, a slightly older fellow with pale, dirty skin and a black ponytail. When he was sure it was safe, he continued forward. Eventually he was close enough to reach out towards a pouch on the sleeping persons belt. Again, he hesitated, checking the face of his mark before finally reaching for his target. He came within inches of the pouch before a hand grabbed his by the fingers and jerked it towards the floorboards. Before the thief could even gasp in shock, a small knife plunged into his hand and pinned it to the floor, eliciting a scream of pain. The Swamp Rat reeled from the sound and let the knife go, holding his head with both hands.
"Gah, shut it you stupid whore!" He yelled, staggering to his feet and removing the knife. "You fucking stabbed me, you shite!" His victim yelled back, holding his bloody hand and writhing on the floor. "AGAIN!"
"What the bloody hell is going on out here!" Yelled a broad shouldered, blonde haired man of middle age. "Aww, this dumb cunt got himself stabbed again," the Rat replied, sheathing the knife and reaching into the pouch. "And over a bag-o-fuckin' rocks!" The scavenger pelted the wounded party in the head with a river stone to make his point. "WHAT!?" The thief shouted. "You stabbed me over a bag a fuckin' rocks!"
"I stabbed you cause you tried to rob me in me sleep!"
"Enough!" The man barked, shoving the Rat towards the bar as he began tending to the thief. "Thanks, Horace." He said sheepishly to the older man. "You gotta stop tryin' to steal from people, Billy. How many times this make it? I'm surprised that hand still works." Horace lowered his tone as he cleaned and bandaged Billy's hand. "That's cause I used the hand he ain't stabbed yet." Billy answered meekly, wincing through the process. "You could just stop, you know?" Swamp Rat called as he sat down. "Any grub around he-" The young man was cut off by a warm bowl of stew, set down by an irritated looking woman with brown hair tied in a bun, slightly younger than Horace. "Eat up, pay up, and get lost." She all but hissed. "Ah, Suzy, you're the Mum I never asked for..." The rat said with hollow reverence before setting into the hot mess of pointed root, herbs, and fish. "If I was your mum I'd have smothered you in the crib and drowned myself in the sea" She stung back as she walked away.
A young man slept in a mostly empty tavern, slumped against a wall. Bone white hair covered part of his face as the sounds of morning, chaotic though they were in these lands, began outside the building. Dim light drifted in through the windows as another figure crept towards the sleeping man. The other man paused a moment, a slightly older fellow with pale, dirty skin and a black ponytail. When he was sure it was safe, he continued forward. Eventually he was close enough to reach out towards a pouch on the sleeping persons belt. Again, he hesitated, checking the face of his mark before finally reaching for his target. He came within inches of the pouch before a hand grabbed his by the fingers and jerked it towards the floorboards. Before the thief could even gasp in shock, a small knife plunged into his hand and pinned it to the floor, eliciting a scream of pain. The Swamp Rat reeled from the sound and let the knife go, holding his head with both hands.
"Gah, shut it you stupid whore!" He yelled, staggering to his feet and removing the knife. "You fucking stabbed me, you shite!" His victim yelled back, holding his bloody hand and writhing on the floor. "AGAIN!"
"What the bloody hell is going on out here!" Yelled a broad shouldered, blonde haired man of middle age. "Aww, this dumb cunt got himself stabbed again," the Rat replied, sheathing the knife and reaching into the pouch. "And over a bag-o-fuckin' rocks!" The scavenger pelted the wounded party in the head with a river stone to make his point. "WHAT!?" The thief shouted. "You stabbed me over a bag a fuckin' rocks!"
"I stabbed you cause you tried to rob me in me sleep!"
"Enough!" The man barked, shoving the Rat towards the bar as he began tending to the thief. "Thanks, Horace." He said sheepishly to the older man. "You gotta stop tryin' to steal from people, Billy. How many times this make it? I'm surprised that hand still works." Horace lowered his tone as he cleaned and bandaged Billy's hand. "That's cause I used the hand he ain't stabbed yet." Billy answered meekly, wincing through the process. "You could just stop, you know?" Swamp Rat called as he sat down. "Any grub around he-" The young man was cut off by a warm bowl of stew, set down by an irritated looking woman with brown hair tied in a bun, slightly younger than Horace. "Eat up, pay up, and get lost." She all but hissed. "Ah, Suzy, you're the Mum I never asked for..." The rat said with hollow reverence before setting into the hot mess of pointed root, herbs, and fish. "If I was your mum I'd have smothered you in the crib and drowned myself in the sea" She stung back as she walked away.
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