Private Tales Weird Friends

[Cenric]

Deliv - Baal Asha River

This wasn't the first time he'd been to Deliv, and it probably wasn't going to be the last.

The city was a crossroad of all sorts and types. Vel Anir had never been the most accepting of nations, and in truth neither had Cortos. The Radiant Church hadn't exactly been known for it's open door policies, and as their control slowly crawled through the land, those who wanted to avoid their prying eyes were pushed further and further out.

Deliv, then, became one of the best places for anyone of that sort to go. The city was something of a bridge(heh), between the two lands, and meant neither had complete control of it. The hustle and bustle of the chaotic bridge city was a good place to hide; which was precisely why Cenric and his companion had come here. "I would guess he's in the Underbridge."

Cenric said, throwing one of the strange pieces of cooked dough into his mouth. The sweetness exploding over his tongue to an almost over the top degree.

"I doubt he has the coin to stay in any of the nicer places." Renegade Dreadlords tended to have resources, but their target wasn't one of them. Savel hadn't been known for pinching his pennies, in fact he'd been known for just the opposite. That was why it had been so easy to pay him off to spy on the Republic. "Plus, easier to hide down there with all the other weirdos."

He continued, offering the paper bag to his companion. "Right?"

The Dreadlord said with a needling smile.

 

[Talya]

Talya looked at Cenric, looked at the bag, and then back to the Dreadlord. She knew she did not need to take the food, that Lord Cenric would beat her or scold her for refusing. She also knew that this couldn't be a cruel trick and that Lord Cenric would not punish her for accepting food. She knew that, whatever her actions, she would not be punished at all. Yet despite what she knew, she felt a great deal of apprehension. Just a few years prior and her decision would have had dramatic consequences.

It had been some time since the great change, since her Rune was removed and her order disbanded. Though change was slower than some would like to think. She was no longer a slave, but she was still tied to a human handler. She was not bound to subservience by magic, but she was still very much bound by habit and the scars that would never fade. No, she was not a slave, but she was a long way from being seen as an equal.

She decided to take a small piece of dough; her handler seemed to want her to. She had no desire to eat the strange, mushy thing, but she put it in her mouth all the same. It would probably have been pleasant if she wasn't woefully inexperienced with sugary foods, and the assault of sweetness made her throat twitch in an effort to expel the invader, but she kept it down and swallowed with as little obvious displeasure as possible.

She was still trying to figure Lord Cenric out. This was their first assignment together since her previous handler had set out across the great sea for Malakath. While Talya would have enjoyed very much being surrounded by water for thousands upon thousands of miles, Vel Anir in its wisdom did not see fit to send a former Forsaken on that particular voyage. So she had been reassigned to someone that fit her experience as a covert assassin. The Vigilite was a good fit.

"Right?"

He wanted an answer. "Yes, sir." Her voice was smooth and lyrical, and she tried to ignore the stinging sweetness on her tongue as she spoke. "It will be much more difficult to find him there with the crowds and dark. If he is smart, he will stay somewhere completely unremarkable."

She took out a medium-sized waterskin and had a quick sip, visibly relieved as the tepid water removed the traces of fried dough from her tongue and rehydrated her throat. She had two such waterskins on her person. Dryness did not agree with her.

"He is not smart, though," she continued. "Otherwise he would not have been caught."

 

[Cenric]

Out of the corner of his eye Cenric watched Talya choke down the small piece of dough. His head shaking ever so slightly as he noticed the flash of discomfort echoing over her features. A fact she hid well, but not enough for it to slip by almost entirely.

There was an argument, well, not really an argument. More of a petty competition of garnering pity about who'd had it worse; Dreadlords or Forsaken. Many of his own peers thought it was the former, though mostly because that had been their own experience. The Proctors had never taken it easy in their day, and cruelty had often been capricious and malicious. Doled out for petty grievances as well as true punishment. For most Dreadlord's, they simply couldn't imagine something worse. Plus, relating to the half-breeds was never easy. What with their strange appearance and all.

Cenric’s thoughts, however, differed. Not because he had any more sympathy for the weirdos, but because he'd quickly realized they lacked any Initiative for fun.

At least he and the other Dreadlord took joy in some things.

Even if half the time that was murdering other people.

For the Forsaken though, even that inclination had been beaten out of them. A depressing fact he'd come to quickly understand. Talya was hardly the first of their kind he'd worked with, but the same through-line seemed to linger in her just like it did all the others. Straight forward, to the point, get the job done.

”I wouldn't make that assumption yet.” Cenric mused to her, but he motioned for the Forsaken to follow as they began to head into Underbridge. The teeming city of Deliv seemed to crowd even more as they went down the rickety steps.

”He got caught, but he also escaped.” Savel might not have counted his coin, but he was not fool. ”Which, I'm wondering if that was the whole point.”

Cenric said, raising a concern he'd offered their superiors just days before. One which had been soundly rejected as a notion of sheer stupidity.