Fate - First Reply The Great Escape.

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe nodded, taking a longer look at the scene around her. The holy men, it seemed, were pouring water into some of the holy vessels of wine and passing that, instead, to the less fortunate folk.

"I sometimes think we need people like you in Vel'Anir. Many of the families have gone too long without anything keeping them in check." She sighed.

"Hmm... No, I'm just free here. When I return that will be stripped from me, it's nice to just enjoy what I'll soon lose." She'd long thought about freedom. Long thought about escaping Vel'Anir, but she knew it was impossible. They put a stop to Dreadlords attempting such notions very quickly.

She flicked a coin into a passing beggar and was rewarded with another few mugs for the table.

"Will you be reuniting with your crew?"

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Probably," Thackett replied. Or he would find another crew. He had been through that before twice.

He placed several coins on the table so that the members of the church wouldn't add water to his wine. Water was the nicest thing they would add to the wine for those not paying up.

"Well, fuck em. Go be somewhere else in the world. Vel Anir's reach isn't from coast to coast. Could make coin anywhere!" Thackett declared.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"I was on a mission recently. 12 Dreadlords, mostly thirds - like me - but a few seconds and firsts. We were sent to capture a Dreadlord that defected." She paused, sloshing her wine around in her mug. The silence hung over them for a good few moments.

"30 years ago. He'd left the fold 30 years ago. They didn't stop looking and they sent enough men to level a city." She sighed. There really was no escape from this life.

"I would love to break free, I've seen - and been forced to help - a woman decimate an entire city! All because they followed a different religion" She sighed. Gulping down a large mouthful of wine, before snatching a second mug from a passing priest. He nodded and she slipped him another coin.

"Tell me, what's it like being free? Free to roam, free to fight, do whatever you want?"

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Don't go around using dreadlord magic and your name?" he suggested, but he could tell that her mind was made up.

"Find direction, if you do decide to break away or even if you don't. Find a cause you can truly get behind and apply yourself to it. Drifting can be fun for a while, but don't go too far," Thackett replied with a sad smile.

He had once been more dedicated than her. A clash of views had set him on a different path. Thackett had thought he had set off for a new mission, a different calling. His life had not panned out as he had expected when he made that choice.

"But for now, enjoy a night of freedom and never look back at it with regrets," he said, raising his glass. His smile shifted, turning to one of pure joy. It didn't extend all the way to his eyes.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"If only it were that simple." She sighed. Her attention drifting towards the situation at hand.

She took a big slug of her wine vessel and her eyes began to wander towards some of the people that made up the temple come bar.

"Are you accustomed to people watching Mr. Thackett? I always find it's a fantastic way to unwind." She smirked, gesturing towards a greasy looking man poorly disguised by a cloak sitting with an equally greasy looking woman.

"What do we think, an adulterer with his mistress? Or perhaps a prominent Cerak figure... do they have those? Paying for companionship." She paused. It was an interesting idea, someone trying to hide whilst sitting in the city of sin and debauchery.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"I apologise..." he said with a laugh. "I thought you were asking an entirely different question."

Thackett seemed a little drunk already, but much of the disarming behaviour was entirely deliberate. There had been no confusion over what Florinthe meant.

"People-watching and not having people watching. Anyway look for the people who don't stand out. The drunk in the corner keeping to himself. Don't stare. What do you see?"

He was a temple guard, or what passed for one here. He hadn't touched his drink the entire time yet remained almost passed out against the wall. Yet his eyes watched from within the hood.

"But I think she might be the prominent figure in disguise. Look at the shoes."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe could have sworn Jeriah had handled his alcohol the last time they'd been drinking. She shrugged, he was enjoying himself, she couldn't complain. She laughed regardless.

She surveyed the area as if just casually looking around, her gaze didn't falter as she spotted the guard, but she used the brief second to take him in.

As her gaze caught on to the duo she had mentioned earlier, she did as was instructed and scrutinized the shoes. "Well first off, they don't match her figure... Secondly, is it just me or is her little toe sticking out? Thirdly... Yeah I see what you mean, it looks a good quality." She nodded.

"He's a guard, posing as a regular. If he was passed out his hand wouldn't be held so tightly to his sword." It made her wonder something, she took a swig of her wine and drew closer to Jeriah.

"Perhaps tongues aren't as free when guards are visible and sober... A spy perhaps?" She whispered through a wicked grin.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Maybe, but a bad one if so. The church isn't a gullible place of charity. I wager it makes more coin than the nearest three temples. If they're tolerating a spy that we can spot then there's a reason for it," he laughed.

"Are there dreadlord spies? And I mean actual magic wielders who use it for subterfuge and not just spies on the payroll."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"No I mean, what if the church has other dealings? Their guards keep an ear out and the temple sells on the information. Alcohol loosens the lips after all." She scanned the area cautiously, just in case her theory was true.

"There's a rumour... Apparently half-breeds and non-human Anirian mages are shackled with forbidden magics and used for... subterfuge." She shuddered. She remembered how tortuous the academy was and could only imagine what the other half suffered - if they existed.

"Yeah... Vel'Anir isn't a great place if you're a mage or a human" She said, swallowing a big mouthful of wine.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Oh now that is an excellent point," Thackett agreed. "Free wine paid for by loose lips. Yes, you're probably exactly right!" he declared.

He looked rather relaxed about the idea.

"Perhaps keep talk about your employers down then eh?" he laughed, throwing back most of his mug of wine and sliding another coin onto the table.

"Don't drink too much unless you've ever tried an ocean bound ship with a hangover. Not a mistake I want to make again..."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"This may be the alcohol talking... But do you think we could play this to our advantage?" She smiled wickedly towards the rogue.

"Reckon we could start a rumour that the red crows... was it? Attacked the marketplace today?"

Florinthe let the thought grow and fester, savouring the silence with a long swig of her wine.

"Oh, is poo Jeriah scared of a little hangover?" She spoke in jest, but clearly had no intention to heed his warning.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Would it matter?" he mused. "I do like the thinking, but I plan on being half way across the ocean tomorrow. Hmmm well it would amuse me."

"Have you ever been on an ocean faring ship with a hangover? At my age that is not tmso much fun. But come now, how are we going to spread this rumour without being obvious?"

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Oh, but Jeriah, you don't look a day past 50!" She spoke, getting merrier with each sip of the cheap wine she consumed.

"We got trained in misdirection." Her words tumbled out, still at a whisper, she enjoyed talking clearly and chose to say what she could in a few words in tens more.

"Keep it simple, let them fill out the gaps. Oh I don't know, perhaps your mate Peyt saw Ol' Thom of the Red Crows escorting a mysterious glowy woman."

"Doesn't matter if there is a Peyt, or an Ol' Thom of course, people will fill in the blanks and find a Peyt and an Ol' Thom." She smiled deviously.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"Now that was just painful," Thackett replied, feigning shock at her accusations of age. "It is a slightly sore point as I'm not ready to be forty this fall."

Jeriah looked down at his glass, swirling it around the wooden mug slowly. Florinthe turning away from the causes she had been given dredged up older memories and he was starting to feel less like causing mischief through misdirection.

"Well...yes...or we could just enjoy the wine."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"I do hope you've planned a big excursion or some mind-boggling heist to celebrate your milestone!" She spoke in mock horror, eager to keep pressing this joke on.

She giggled, whether because of him or from the wine she was unsure. Another sip went down her and she found herself appreciating the cheap wine more with every sip.

"I suppose. Well... If you did want to get back at the people who wronged you, let me know. We can always cause some mischief and appreciate the wine."

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"There is a long list. Needless to say I once had a cause, like you. I turned my back on that a long time ago. I suppose I see being used for someone else's cause is worse than being robbed. What is a few coins compared to most of your life?"

She was laughing and he went to steal it away with a very pointed question. Jeriah had to wonder if he was actually in the right mood for wine.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"What was your cause, might I ask?" She paused, her laughter stopping. She considered the conversations she had with Jeriah over the past couple of days and recalled that he spoke very little of himself or his past.

"Who were you before you became the rogue I see before me?" She smiled warmly. Deep down, she knew the difficulty of this question. The past, for most people in her experience, was something to be buried and forgotten. Florinthe wondered if Jeriah held the same regard for it.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"A very misguided man," Jeriah replied, hiding his wry smile with a wooden cup almost immediately.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Usually, Florinthe would have slightly more decorum and sense than to question an individual's past. Especially, when such an individual was displaying such reluctance. That said, usually, Florinthe wasn't six mugs of wine down when doing so.

"Where are you from? Do you have family?" She said, completely unaware of his reluctance.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"North," he replied, "along the mid norther edges of the spine."

Jeriah was a very long way from where he had grown up. That was deliberate.

"No family at all, I am afraid," he added. "I was raised as an orphan."

A couple of tables away a group were raising their voices, becoming increasingly rowdy from the wine.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Ever go back there?" She held her breath at his revelations. Her gaze drifting towards her mug of wine.

Florinthe often wondered who she was, who her family was, before being taken in by pirates and then Dreadlords. It was futile, she knew, it would be impossible to find out.

She didn't press the orphan topic for very long, she knew his feelings.

Catching a glance at Jeriah spying the rowdy table, she nodded.

"We can move if you like?"

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"It's fine, if they come to cause trouble they will deserve what they get. No magic though." He sounded as if he truly believed it.

Thackett shifted uncomfortably on his chair before answering firmly.

"No," he replied. "And I have no intention of seeing that place again. I see shades of it all around the world and that is enough for me. For the longest time I truly felt that it was the right place for me to be."

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Yeah... That's probably for the best. I assure you my magic isn't always so... Gruesome." She several times as she spoke. It was a blatant lie, she knew it, he knew it, she just didn't want to seem like a monster.

"Fair enough, the past is behind you, may as well keep moving forward." She said smiling towards the rogue.

"Where do you want to go next? Are there any cities you've yet to leave a mark on? Or anything you wish to see?" Florinthe was aware she was peppering him with questions, but she didn't care. This simple human interaction made her feel normal.

 

[Jeriah Thackett]

"There is a city a few hundred miles south of Elbion that straddles a river. Lots of wealth, lots of opportunity," he said. It felt as if he had been held over the hot coals, without quite being dumped on them. It was always the same when he brushed up a little too close to his past.

"Now if you fancy chancing a slight delay to your return for a chance of making some..."

He paused as a shadow loomed over them. The drunks. What on Arethil could have convinced them to come over here and...

"Hey mind if we join the conversation," one of them slurred. He followed their gazes too Florinthe. Of course. That was why.

"We're talking, kindly go fuck yourselves," Jeriah interjected. The first came swinging a moment later.

He slipped into the space between heartbeats like a warm glove. Easier when he didn't think about it. Didn't think of turning his back on where this power came from.

The fist slowed to a crawl and he leaned forwards to avoid it. He pressed down on the table, hearing a leg snap from the sudden pressure. At this speed he heard each and every thread of wood snapping. Like an applauded. He swung his wodden mug up nd struck the man's temple, dropping him.

It could not be attributed to luck. Not this time. He had become almost a blur before Florinthe's eyes. From seating to standing in one blink.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

"Jeriah I don't need money..." She paused, letting her statement linger before he even finished it. "But I'd be more than happ-" Florinthe's gaze settled on the man who had chosen to darken their door.

What happened next surprised her. The notoriously charming man - no doubt due to several glasses of wine - didn't bother with pleasantries and found himself engaged in a hapless pub brawl.

"Jeriah you are full of surprises." She muttered. The uncanny luck he had this whole time, almost unnatural ability to be in the right place, it had nagged at her deeply - and now she knew why. He was certainly much more than a common braggart and thief.

She smiled and rose from her table. The unconscious guard in the distance had a hand on his hilt and all airs of drunkenness faded from him, he saunted over to the table - ready to dispense justice on the two of them.

Florinthe interjected and placed herself between the guard, the recently crippled and Jeriah. Carefully, and almost flirtatious, she ran her hand along his arm - slipping a flashy bit of jewellery she'd palmed earlier into his hand - and drew close.

Her head nestled beside his ear and she whispered softly.

"I would be... Ever so grateful, if you threw this squealing man and his friends out."

The guard blushed, signalled some other unseen bouncers and began to roughly herd the rest of the party out of the temple.

She sat down, a knowing grin on her face as she looked at Jeriah. She didn't mention the magic, she didn't need to - Florinthe was giving him the look.

"You know... They'll be waiting for us outside."