Fate - First Reply The Great Escape.

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Averse to risk the lot of them," Thackett called from behind the crates. "Hardly a useful trait in our line of work."

They would have argued that being sceptical of Jeriah's plans was exactly the kind of trait that kept one alive in their line of work.

He changed quickly. They were fairly drab clothes, but Jeriah looked comfortable on almost anything. He wore his clothes, his expressions, his accents and characters together. Slipping in and out of them easily.

"I suppose the important question is who would be interested in purchasing this man?"

 

[Florinthe Othal]

His words gave Florinthe no end of pause. "Hmm, well if they're in this line of work and still find you risky - shall I be concerned?" She spoke, half in jest, but the other half out of morbid curiosity - wondering to herself what in hell she had gotten into.

That said, Jeriah had raised an important question, one that she had failed herself to even consider. "It would have to be someone who doesn't fear the ire of the Anirian navy. I can't imagine there are many characters that fit that bill, surely?" Her question was genuine, she was an instrument of Vel'Anir and it was increasingly obvious that stories of Anirian might and dominance were all she knew.

"You definitely strike me as an individual with enemies in high places, care to throw me a bone?" She smiled curiously at the rogue, before pausing. It had quickly dawned on her that, this whole time, she had been brandishing the knife. Almost as quickly, and with great embarrassment, she slipped it away discreetly somewhere in her new outfit.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

Jeriah raised an eyebrow at the knife. He read people's body language in such a way that it hadn't concerned him at any point.

"I can't just slip into the role of someone that important. Well, I can, but the ruse will not last. Such a thing requires planning, forged documents, associations."

There was also the small matter of already having tried to con a number of the men involved in the running of the slave trade.

"We may have to do this the old fashioned way when we find out where he is. You don't have any other allies on the island I don't suppose?

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Assuming he is alive, I only need to be able to see him. Once I've done that I can work some magic to free him easily." She paused after speaking, leaving a long silence to suggest that she would reveal no more than necessary.

"Honestly, all my associates were in the shipwreck and my only other tie here was a pirate lord who held me captive." Her eyebrow raised as she spoke, something about the man before her seemed to nudge her to slip. Her personal history was not something she engaged with, ever.

"So, you get me into the most prestigious secretive market - somehow - I work my magic, we escape Cerak and, if we have time, we bludgeon and maim some Red Crows. Simple." The plan she had suggested was anything but. However, she was getting restless and while Florinthe was not one to hold a grudge, she certainly wanted to see the city of Cerak burn.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Much easier if we simply leave before word gets to the Red Crows of an imposter pretending to collect their protection money."

Jeriah didn't react at all to the mention of the pirate captain. Facts that interested him rarely elicited a visible reaction. Not unless it was deliberate. She seemed to have caught herself without saying more, but he resolved to steer the conversation back later.

"Don't worry though, it should be days before..."

"Oi!"

Thebshout cut across the empty warehouse. Fate had a habit of kicking Thackett before he could stand up. This was one of those times.

Two men who could have been a quarter ogre stepped into the warehouse. One of them wagged a meaty finger at Jeriah. Both wore distinctive, red tattoos on their arms.

"I can handle this without fuss I'm sure," Jeriah hissed to Florinthe.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Easier, perhaps. But what happens if word gets around that Jeriah Thacket has a Dreadlord on the payroll? You sure it isn't worth bloodying a few noses?" She smiled devilishly. At this point, she wasn't even attempting to hide her eagerness to rough up any pirates or slavers.

Instinctively, her ears pricked and her eyes darted towards the entrance. She heard the two oafs moments before they shouted and nimbly spun herself in front of Jeriah and facing the two hulking figures. As she reached for a spear that wasn't there, she found time to process the situation and, subsequently, pay attention to Jeriah.

"Oh come on, they're not even armed, I can even see their carotids from here, it's one snip." She grumbled through gritted teeth behind her. Reluctantly, and upon considering how fragile masculinity could be to such a charismatic rogue, she quickly returned to her position behind him and acquiesced. "Fine, we do things your way."

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Why you ate a fiesty murder beast," Jeriah whispered. He was quite content letting her do the dirty work. His usual muscle was seven foot of komodi. A komodi who was currently a female.

Thackett stepped forwards, his hands down by his sides. He tried to look as disarming as possible as he approached the two thugs. Three, as another walked through the doors and leaned himself against them.

"Now I'm sure that..."

Before Thackett could even finish the sentence a meaty fist was thrown in his direction.

With a sharp inhalation, Jeriah dropped himself into the space between heartbeats. The fist slowed until it was barely inching forwards. He could only move his own body so fast until it broke, but he immediately started to drop his weight to his left. As he fell the fist skimmed past his right ear.

To Florinthe that stretched out time would have lasted barely a second. It would have seemed as if Jeriah had tripped and fallen as the thug threw a punch. In that confusion, Jeriah had somehow come away with a knife and was left lying on the floor to the side of the thugs.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Her stomach grumbled at the very mention of her eating. It quickly became apparent to Flor as to why she had been so eager to entertain the notion of a murderous rampage across Cerak. She was hungry, it all made sense. Unfortunately, however, her magic extracted its price from her in that very same fashion. Right, food first, then rampage.

Reluctantly, Florinthe watched the exchange out of curiosity. She could stand to learn something here, she'd never had much success parlaying with the slower races and Jeriah seemed so certain of himself. It could prove to be quite a useful skill, however, that thought evaporated as the first punch was thrown.

"Enjoy your trip?" She smirked knowingly at Jeriah, her face beaming with the smug 'I told you so' look that comes naturally to us all. That said, the fall had likely saved his head from being caved in and the knife he held was another happy accident altogether. Damn, he was lucky.

A quick flourish followed from Florinthe when she had drawn her knife was a mystery to those around her but drawn she had. The knife sailed expertly towards the offender and her previous assertations about the balance and quality of the blade were quickly proved. The knife whistled gently through the air and, without any time for recourse, the attacker dropped. His body simply falling where it stood, the knife embedding deep into his forehead.

In reality, it was merely a distraction for Florinthe. The knife had gained the attention of the other man and he watched powerless to stop it killing his comrade. However, while his momentary lapse of focus was understandable, it would ultimately be his undoing as he too found himself being struck by a weapon. The young Dreadlord had launched herself into the hulking mass of muscle and bulk. Without any fear or reservation, her thumbs gouged deeply into his eye sockets. Immediately afterwards, lightning arced and sparked across her arms and quickly flooded itself into the skull of the attacker.

Her stomach grumbled, she smelled a lovely barbeque somewhere. The attacker fell backwards, dead, and Florinthe knelt on his corpse, light-headed and nauseous. "I really suggest we get some food somewhere because, at this point, this guy is starting to look pretty tasty right now." She gulped audibly as she spoke.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

It very quickly turned into one of those moments where Thackett had nothing to say in return. The notion that the burned flesh could trigger her hunger just emptied his head of any words.

The knife vanished smartly. He missed the old days where he didn't have to rely on carrying a blade in case his enforcers failed him. Admittedly this one seemed an excellent replacement for the time being.

"I'll pull these out of sight and we can head for an inn that's in someone else's turf for a full meal."

Despite not having thrown any magic around, his time in captivity had left him with a healthy appetite of his own. Jeriah grasped the larger one by the wrists and started dragging the corpse away. A look of disdain was fixed on his face now. Where was William when there was dirty work to be done?

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe rose, unsteady at first, to a standing position on the corpse of the downed enemy. Slowly, and carefully, she stepped off the man and made her way to his comrade. She flicked her wrist during her approach and a slight wind gathered around the knife, lifting it up and bringing it back into her grasp.

Her magic, while brief and minor, had rocked her with hunger and she felt her breathing become somewhat heavier than normal. "If we're heading for an inn, may I suggest we avoid the wharf rat? It's unlikely they're still about, but, my old captor and his crew used to frequent it." Her speech was pained, partly through hunger and partly through fear. The fate of the old pirate lord was uncertain to her and while she was certain he'd been killed, pirates always have a habit of surprising you.

She looked on impressed with Jeriah, he seemed to have no issue lugging these huge hulking figures away. He certainly was a man with a few surprises and she had no doubt that, if push came to shove, he could be very tricky in a fight. Every scuffle they'd managed he'd ended up unscathed and she knew first-hand that luck can only get you so far.

"Do they have any money or weapons on them?" Her question was more of a hint for Jeriah, despite her felling the two louts, she didn't really savour the idea of rifling around their lifeless bodies.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"The knife I already took, but a couple of small coin purses," Thackett replied. Apparently his shrewd gaze had already been passed across the bodies.

As he stepped around the crates after rolling the second body into a barrel, he tossed one of the small pouches towards Florinthe.

" In case we get separated," he explained woth a distinctly disarming smile. So far he was convinced that she was worth keeping around and also dangerous enough that double crossing her would lead to die consequences. "Come on, I know a place."

He didn't know a place, but people always felt reassured when you seemed as if you knew the area.

Cerak was a city in its own way. Whilst much of the population arrived and left by ship a lot of people lived here. Some had settled, some were former slaves or their children. He found them a pleasant enough looking inn high above the harbour to find some food. She looked pale enough that the walk up here might have drained the last of her reserves so he was quick to lead her towards a table once inside.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe snatched the purse in mid-air. There was something particularly reassuring in having money, however little was still better than none at all. A quick glance into the purse confirmed it's contents worth and she slipped the back deep into her robes. Thereafter, following Jeriah's lead.

The fresh air hit immediately and she found herself relishing in the natural light she'd so long been denied. For the first time in a while, she felt good. Better still that she was being led around by someone so familiar with the area, lending her a sense of security and safety in his knowledge.

Soon, with the inn coming into sight, Florinthe thanked Jeriah internally. Her magic had left her somewhat breathless, on top of the hunger, and she found that the walk between the warehouse and inn had taken a significant amount from her reserves.

That said, she was quick to spy an opportunity. As they approached the entrance, Flor spotted two drunken patrons stumbling towards them - one walking with a glint shimmering at his waist. A thin needle-like blade, hastily concealed behind the waistband. The two drunks passed, locked in nonsensical conversation, and her hand deftly plucked the blade from him. A quick glance backwards confirmed her actions had gone unnoticed and she ducked into the inn behind Jeriah.

The table he'd chosen was well-placed, away from most of the patrons whilst providing a view of the entire seating area. She was quick to hail a waitress, placed half the contents of the coin purse in her hand, and order every single item on the menu along with a flagon of their strongest rum. She'd earned it.

"Eat, drink, pass out. Infiltrate the VIP market. Escape Cerak. Possibly fight the red crows if we have time. Sorted." Her words were concise and filled with confidence. In reality, however, she simply was too out of breath to speak in full sentences.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"You really do enjoy fighting don't you?" he asked, settling back into his chair. His own order was a much more basic affair and he was glad he had separated their coin.

A good stew and some buttered bread would do perfectly well for Thackett. For many years he had eaten without the simple pleasures of salt or herbs.

He cast a curious glance at his strange companion. Through the day he had never stops considering the possibility of finding his own way off the island. He was quick and clever enough to be away safely.

It was the temptation of poking the slavers in the eye once more before they left that kept him. The chance to do what he thought was a little bit of right in an island full of wrong.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"It's the only thing that makes sense in this world, my dear Jeriah." Her speech was stunted, each word punctuated with chewing and tearing of meat. This was an individual who had no need, nor care, for any table manners or etiquette.

Her food stocks were depleting at an astonishing rate, yet there appeared to be no end to her insatiable appetite. Eventually, however, she stopped. Whether she was physically incapable of forcing more food down herself or simply saving the remnants of the plates for later, who knew.

"So, tell me, where's your crew right now? Were they not privy to your latest jaunt that saw you enslaved?" Her tone was gentle and far from probative. That said, she was quite curious to know how Jeriah had ended up in this mess with her.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"That is a very good question. I like to imagine that they're off the island now, working out who they could use to try and buy me back out of slavery. I'd rather not think of the other option: that they've simply cut and run."

He leaned back against the wall, taking in the room without appearing to be interested in anything beyond the mug of beer on the table.

"Violence is simple. It can be beautiful. It is, however, a hollow thing to devote yourself too. Unfettered it can be a force for complete evil and yet you would only ever see the simplicity of the violence at hand. And not to big picture."

For just a moment sadness crept into the corners of his eyes. It was gone as quickly as he could say "I hope I can get a pipe and some leaf."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"If it were me in their position, it would certainly be the former." She said no more on the matter, it soon became a moment of introspection for her. While Jeriah likely did have people noticing his loss, she was trapped on Cerak and if she never made it out, few would notice. Harrowing stuff really.

"I'm afraid it's all I will ever know. Dreadlords who resist the call to arms seldom live long." It came part and parcel with being labelled a 'living weapon'. Nobody willingly answers the call to become one, someone makes the decision one day and then they're stripped of their freedoms for life.

She noted the tinge of sadness and shift in the conversation, a pang of guilt washed over her and she immediately regretted her early eagerness for violence.

She scoped the area for a few moments, paused, and nodded towards them. "I think we might have found a solution." A few tables across from them sat three men, extremely drunk, dice in hand and, more importantly, taking an occasional puff of pipeleaf.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

Thackett grinned. The temptation he felt tugging him towards that table was only half driven by the scent of the burning pipe leaf.

"Do me a favour?" he asked. "Don't let me stay at their table for longer than a few minutes. Also..." he cast Florinthe a rather guilty look.

"...if they start looking angry be ready for a little bit more violence?"

Thackett wasn't the lead in their group when it came to slight of hand. It was more of a hobby than a profession for him. They could always do with more coin. At least that was what he told himself.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

She smiled and, for once, it was genuine. It would be quite interesting to see what these fellows made of the charismatic rogue, although, considering how drunk they were, it could only end in one of two ways. Best friends, or enemies.

"Take your time. Considering their state, I doubt even an inexpert thief like yourself should be able to walk away with something." She spoke in jest, nodding calmly at his suggestion at violence. She waved him off, it wasn't like barfights counted as actual violence anyway.

As her companion wandered off, Florinthe ordered a second flagon of rum and promptly downed her own. She polished off the remainder of her food and turned to watch Jeriah's magic in action.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

Much of the conversation would be just beyond Florinthe's range of hearing. A guffaw went up from the table as Thackett apparently told a joke. A few coins slid onto the table and he soon had a lit pipe between his teeth.

Another burst of conversation and Thackett stepped back, feigning reluctance to join the game. Soon after he took a seat, rolled a few times, lost a few coins. He looked dejected, the others laughed.

His 'luck' of course slowly started to shift. He looked delighted at the change and the mood around the table started to sour.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe sighed, she was well into her second flagon of rum and Jeriah was off having all the fun. She grumbled to herself, hearing all the laughter and merriment that was occurring a few tables across from her. Thankfully, with her newfound confidence, she had an idea.

A quick exchange with the barmaid and Florinthe disappeared into the back room. An almost different woman stepped out from that entrance a mere moment later. It was amazing what one could do with a simple facewash and comb. The result? days of neglect and abuse were suddenly wiped from her and Florinthe's beauty was apparent for all to see.

She sauntered over towards Jeriah's new compatriots, having clocked the sour note in the atmosphere earlier, and settled on one of their laps. Flustered and intoxicated, she soothed their hostility with her charms. A laugh here, a wink there, the odd blush, everything she needed to disarm the men around the table.

As she siphoned their attention away from the outcome of each passing round, Florinthe smirked knowingly towards Jeriah. The ball was in his court now. It was up to him to rinse these men of all they were worth.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

Dice were tricky things to fix. It was why he usually had a weighted set about his person. Those were long gone after being stripped of all his belongings upon capture. Fortunately Florinthe was doing an excellent job holding their focus. A little of his own too. She really was a rather exceptionally pretty murder fiend. Maybe the career as a Dreadlord didn't suit her, he mused to himself.

Another few rolls and he decided to duck out after a roll that lose him a good share of his winnings. Better that way than to have them work themselves into a drunken stupor and decided to demand it back later. They didn't have anywhere else to stay tonight.

He purchased another portion of leaf from his pipe as another gesture of good will and extracted himself from the game. Florinthe could remove herself he was sure. Jeriah went to the bar to discuss paying for some rooms for the night.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe smiled to herself, she was enjoying her part playing a con-artist. The free drinks on behalf of her new friends might have had a part to play in that, however. As the time drew on she found her attention split, eager to watch Jeriah rack up his winnings instead of listening to the drunken men droll on about their lives. Despite her intense study of the man, she had yet to crack how he had rigged these dice, his fortune growing steadily. Until it didn't. He cashed out with a tidy sum, however, yet his luck for the most part still seemed infallible.

She stayed for a few more minutes after Jeriah had left. To leave immediately after him would arouse suspicion and even these fools could work out a deception that blatant. Eventually, after convincing them to find her several days from now in some made-up street across the other side of Cerak, she managed to slip away.

Thinking it best to keep their association a secret, Florinthe waited until the exchange was over and keys had been swapped. Once that had been achieved she brushed past Jeriah, relinquishing a set of keys from his possession and headed up towards the rooms. After a few moments of testing the key against each of the locks, she found a room and almost collapsed onto the bed. Alcohol, food and exhaustion all overcoming her.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

Jeriah was busy tucking into a chunk of bread and a spread of marmalades by the time Florinthe came down to eat. He was used to early starts and long days. He took a swig for a mug of beer and waved for her to join him.

"I have been thinking," he announced. "We should perhaps visit the dock and ensure we have transportation options back to the mainland."

Cerak was not a small island. Calling the continent the mainland would have offended any of the residents.

"Probably best to secure passage on a ship and work out where we can hide out before the rescue attempt...."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe yawned, slowly dragging herself out of bed. She was fully rested, fully fed and filled with a sense of purpose. Not wanting to jinx it, she pushed her positive thoughts and feelings aside and made her way downstairs.

Jeriah the provider had done so again. The Dreadlord, eager to sample the many marmalades, essentially dipped pieces of bread into the various jars and gorged on the numerous flavours spread out before her.

"That sounds like a good idea, we've got coin now anywho. Plus, if need be, I'm sure there won't be many captains who'd turn down a free weatherworker." She smiled, marmalade stains around her mouth.

She paused, recalling her knowledge of the local area. While she had not been here for over a decade, she knew a place like Cerak seldom changes. Their target would be the Diamond Exchange, the marketplace whereby nobles and VIPs were bought and sold. It was held regularly at the base of one of the lesser towers within the fortress city.

"Perhaps the sewers? If we get under Cerak At'Thul we can bypass any resistance and come out directly in the citadel." It was a horrifying prospect, truth be told, the only thing worse than this charred blight on the world would be the waste it produced.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"The sewers?" he asked incredulously. Thackett looked at his half eaten chunk of bread to decide. He was, so he took another bite.

"You know when they were built? Over a hundred and fifty years ago. No one ever finished building them, nor did anyone expand them with the town. I was hoping to get out of here before the wind came from inland."

"Well...if its that or death...hmmaybe death. I could try and put the coin to good and find a safe house?"

It was a dangerous prospect. He didn't know the turf well enough. They could end up paying for somewhere to keep their heads down and then find out it was the same people they ended up raiding to free the prisoner.