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RESPITE MARKETPLACE - NOON
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Narrator: The marketplace is particularly busy today, the weather being clear and enjoyable enough, more or less a perfect day for getting everything out of doors done. There seems to be a lot of bustle nearer to the East end of the marketplace, where multiple carts of building supplies seem to have arrived, the first hauling solid Vamese sawn beams and boards in months, the only lumber that survives the voyage well enough to ship to Respite. The buyers seem to be trying their damndest to lowball the head merchant, despite the clear demand.
Froge stands just to the side, the crowd seeming to keep some breadth from his stall as if they're afraid of flame jets or something. At the least, this creates a bubble of open space where the lumber merchant stands, giving Froge's stall plenty clear line of sight and speech to the merchant. He sticks his tongue out a bit, confused as to why the guy seems to be disappointed in such "high" offers, as far as the frog is concerned. He may have little grasp on the logistics involved.
Gareth arrives at the marketplace, the scrum of people around the eastern side of the place drawing his curious gaze. He stands in place, listening for a few seconds to figure out what the deal is about, only to decide to wait rather than trying to get through the mass of folks trying to buy the lumber at low prices. He leans against the stall closest to him as he watches and waits.
Froge croaks a little, shaking his head. "So much! 10 silver for a chunk of tree? Strange, yes? Course, Respite is strange. Build in a place with no trees, no burrows, yes? Then build fake shelters from trees and stones and mud."
Gareth chuckles quietly, looking sideways at the merchant. "Not all o' us are the sort to live underwater or underground, lad. Natural shelters make more sense, but Vamas and Sarn aren't too accommodatin' fer natural shelters that aren't just cold caverns."
Froge humphs, rubbing his forehead before looking to Gareth. "Forget roots, most have. Big roots. 'Mungrave' I think someone called them, yes? Dig out some mud, build up with roots. No holes, not underground." He chuckles, nodding.
Gareth smiles a bit. "Aye, that works when there's mud to dig out and mangroves to shelter under. No real mud in Vamas except along the southern coast from how cold it can get up that way. Sarn... maybe. Here... I don't even know if mangroves are a thing, here."
Froge tilts his head a bit, seemingly about to answer when he simply says. "Oh, I don't know? Maybe?" Something seems a bit off about the stall, the glass vials beneath it clinking and rattling about despite the lack of interaction. "You should ask next time! Know more about Aephix, yes?"
Gareth flicks his hears, hearing the clinking of glass beneath. He leans away, standing up straight once more, thinking he might be disturbing the contents. "Frontier lands fer most folks, I think, exceptin' yer kind and the Saurs. No one's really explored the place before, far as I know."
Narrator: Froge is about to respond when a chitinous set of fingers grips Gareth's shoulder, a familiar voice speaking up from behind him.
Bracvar: "Not jostlin' the poor amphibious peddlar, are yeh lad?"
Gareth blinks and turns as he's addressed, only to laugh as he spots Bracvar standing behind him. "Me? Nah, not in the least, ye salty crab." He grins as he swings a rough pat on the shell covering Bracvar's shoulder, "Good to see ye again, Bracvar."
Bracvar nods, turning toward the West, away from the scuffling crowd and starting to walk on. "Aye, and you Gareth! Heard yeh had one hell of a time out there. Glad teh have yeh back in one piece at least."
Gareth gives Froge a little salute as he turns to take his leave with Bracvar. "It was a hell o' a trip to the west, aye. O' course, not somethin' I'm unfamiliar with, at least, what with some o' the battles that used to spring up over a decade ago, ye know?"
Narrator: A growing heat from behind them warms the two as they make their way along the market, the vague idea of burning gas scratching the back of their minds, but before a chance to turn to the source comes...
Bracvar laughs heartily, nodding as he steers the two toward an alley shortcut. "Oh aye! The tales 'o Wrath's adventures, as told by Wrath himself through the fog of ale! Aye, I don't forget easy lad." They're about to pass by a familiar little shop front, the window closed behind red curtains.
Gareth turns the corner with Bracvar, rather enjoying the warmth of (what he assumes is) the sun at his back. "What can I say? All o' those stories are at least mostly true." He grins, "Ship combat is intense, even in the best o' situations."
Bracvar pats Gareth on the shoulder, grinning under his tendrils, eyes crinkling to show it. "Never doubt yeh, o'course. Yeh know me own tales after all!" The curtains shift as if someone were peeking out at the pair, the cloth taking on a shimmer. Out of the corner of one's eye, it catches the light just right to look like liquid running down the glass... "And I can't imagine fearing the sea swallowin' yeh up if the battle goes their way instead o yours!"
Gareth walks with Bracvar down the alley, though his alert eye catches the curtains shifting about, and he glances over towards it. "Eh, I like to think I'm on pretty good terms with the sea nowadays. Been buildin' me house down in the bay, and the waters are bein' kind enough to deposit more ship-grade wood on the shoreline fer me to use." He slows down and nudges Bracvar as he talks, then nods towards the curtain to draw his attention that way.
Bracvar turns toward the window as prompted, stopping his scuttling. "Hm? Oh aye, just give 'em a knock eh? Scare 'em back inside." The curtains are definitely cloth, the dark gap moving between them not showing any hint of what's inside the room.
Gareth hums in agreement and takes a moment to swiftly knock his knuckles against the wood lining the bottom of the stall's counter. "Just figure it's not at all wise to be eavesdroppin' on folks just enjoyin' a nice stroll."
Narrator: As Gareth's knuckles make contact with the wood a scaly hand lunges through the curtains, splashing the flowing red fluid around as it grabs his wrist in a wicked grip, just before it makes a violent yank toward the stall to draw Gareth into the flowing red liquid and... onto the stormy deck of a ship. The hand is nowhere to be seen, neither is it's owner.
Bracvar stands in roughly the same location as he was moments ago, though of course as dripping wet with rain as Gareth is. "Aye, ran off with the first report of cannons, quartermaster. Good call, cap'n'll be happy with that!" He turns with a grin to Gareth before pointing off toward the fleeing ship, its colors vaguely familiar.
Gareth hums as he rolls his shoulder a bit, his cutlass in hand as he was clearly preparing for a fight as he stares after the retreating vessel. The momentary shock of being pulled through the curtain in the alleyway moments before already completely forgotten. "Damned fool merchants thinkin' they could get back at us fer the last time. Lucky fer them we didn't just sink them after that first salvo."
James: "Yeah. Lucky." The croc is seated on the back of a large, familiar shell, Bracavar's arms and legs splayed out from under it. A very familiar spear is on an angle between James's spread knees, jammed under the heavy shell, presumably into the softer flesh between crab and shell. The croc seems calm as he idly watches the retreating ship.
Gareth turns back towards Bracvar upon hearing a different voice, only to spot James standing on the crab, the hooked spear he saw the croc with now jammed into Bracvar's shell. The wild and disparate trains of thought from the last minute or so colliding immediately confuses the hell out of him, and he winds up staring at James. "Okay... what the-- Somethin's not right, here. What the hell is goin' on?"
James nods slightly, speaking in the same calm tone Gareth is familiar with. "Good question, what is going on? Piper is okay, hm? Word is that you two's met. Fought side by side, even."
Gareth furrows his brow a little as he looks around the empty, rain-spattered deck of the ship he and James are on, then redirects his attention back to the croc. "Piper's fine, aye, and we watched each others' backs on the way into town from Sarn. How would ye know that, though? Yer dead. Someone killed ye in Respite, and I almost got thrown into jail fer it."
James grunts, rolling his neck a little but still not looking towards Gareth. "So they did. I don't feel particularly dead." He stands up from Brac's shell, drawing the spear with a crunching squelch, though the tip looks clean when he swings it up to rest the shaft on his shoulder. "She killed anyone yet? The attackers, yeah. The 'saurs'. Interesting." He walks past Gareth, plodding across the deck slowly until he pauses next to the mast.
Gareth shrugs a bit as he goes to check on Bracvar's wound, only to find nothing in the way of injury on the crab at all. He looks back up at James as he heads towards the ship's mast. "Just the Saurs attackin' the caravan, aye. She didn't join up on the trip out to the Prominence, since she was occupied figurin' out what all happened with ye."
James growls deep in his throat, shaking his head. "Coward. Say. This is a beautiful ship, how'd you give up this life again?" He looks up at the mast, running his palm over the smooth wood.
Gareth raises an eyebrow, only to shrug at the question. "Knew to leave when me crew decided to try and attack a Silver-Talon trade vessel carryin' some really valuable cargo, despite warnin's from me not to." He shakes his head a bit, "Ye only take what ye can trade away or sell. Couldn't do either with that sort o' cargo."
James nods, glaring at the crab by Gareth. He slams his fist against the mast, the hefty wood shuddering slightly. "Shame. Would have been a hell of a fight to take those stuck up bastards on. Unwinnable, maybe." With a grunting growl, James puts his shoulder to the mast, gripping the ropes wrapped around it's base as he heaves. It starts splintering far too easily, starting to fall toward Gareth and Bracvar with a familiar cacophony of snapping wood, tearing sails and whipping ropes. The crab'd feel like he's made entirely of lead, lying on the deck. Over the noise, a voice clearly continues speaking calmly. "Would have been much easier if you'd convinced her to follow along. Would've been better for her, too. Wager she feels terrible for missing out on the bloodbath."
Gareth looks up as the mast starts to tip over, and he spends a few seconds of the initial slow fall to try and push Bracvar's body aside to no avail. However, when it becomes clear he's not going to be able to budge Bracvar, he instead shifts around and kicks himself away from danger, using the crab's immobile weight to his advantage. Moments later, as the mast hits the deck, he springs to his feet and holds his cutlass out, pointed at James. "She didn't seem to care about that, preferred to try and learn more about yer death." He growls a little, "And what the hell do ye think yer doin'?!"
James watches as the mast crashes into the deck of the ship over Bracvar, disappearing the crab through the boards... At best. James stares down the cutlass, seemingly back to full calm. "You know damn well what that crustacean's done. Doesn't deserve better. You saw her in that caravan fight. She's a killer. A good one, too."
Gareth shakes his head a bit, keeping his eyes on James. "Ye already took yer revenge on him. No need to disrespect the body afterwards, ye blasted fool." He scoffs, "As fer yer sister, she already voiced her distaste o' fightin', made it pretty clear she'll do it if she has to, though, and she didn't have to fer the war."
James scoffs, turning to look from Gareth's position on the North road, pointing his spear at the damaged wagons, Piper standing on the legs of a saur as she slams her fist spears into his chest until he's only moving from the impacts, turning on to tear into others in similarly cruel ways. "That is not a pacifist. Look. Look at her. How many times does she only just turn away from her allies?" He's not wrong, the huge croc seeming to lose focus when moving toward Maximillian because a saur slung a stone at the back of her neck. Are these memories, or fabrications? It might seem skewed, exaggerated.
Gareth watches Piper laying into the Saurs, the setting at least vaguely familiar. He snorts quietly. "She was the one pullin' folks out o' the wagons safely. Heard so from Aelia. She was also the one checkin' in on folks first once all the dust settled." He casts James a look as he crosses his arms a bit, his cutlass now mysteriously back in its scabbard, "If anythin', I broke away from formation and guardin' others more than anyone else that day."
James chuckles a similar three notes to Piper, turning to look at Gareth. "You think you can trust her to keep all that in check? She asked you to shoot her. Why? To scratch an itch for adrenaline. One normal fighting can't get to." He grins wider, taking a step toward Gareth. "Just you wait."
Gareth laughs and shakes his head. "She said that just to prove I wasn't goin' to hurt her. If ye want to know, she was fine with me not doin' that, and we still got to sparrin', anyway."
James laughs in complete echo to Gareth, shaking his head, gaze moving up over Gareth's left shoulder.
Gareth notices James' gaze moving to a spot over his shoulder, and he continues to smile at the croc for a few moments. He casually unfolds his arms, then dives sideways while drawing a pistol to aim at whoever is looming behind him. He does his best to keep James in view, as well.
Piper stands there where James looked to, though the 'smaller' croc is nowhere to be seen. She swings at where Gareth was, the arc of someone elses blood trailing from her weapons spattering the grass. "Out of head!" She takes another wild swing on her own momentum, not quite looking at Gareth. "OUT OF MY HEAD!" The voice sounds different; right in front of Gareth, but also seeming to echo in the distance.
Gareth blinks as he looks at Piper, his pistol lowering as he stares in renewed confusion at the croc, though he scrambles back from her a bit further. "Piper?! Calm down, lass!"
Piper leaps at Gareth, blocking out the sun behind her as she cries out in a muffled voice, "Get out of my head!" When she lands the ground seems to lose it's solidity, everything falling into a blur all at once when her jaws seem to get close to Gareth. A flicker of a door flashes in the haze, one that Gareth has seen a dozen times across the hall in the Minnow.
Gareth brings up an arm to try and block Piper, intending to sacrifice an arm rather than his head if she tries to go for a bite. However, instead of that, the moment Piper lands, he gets a sensation of falling, and the view of the door he's seen many, many times before suddenly vanishes as he lands on the floor of his room at the Minnow, tangled in sheets.
Narrator: In the not-so-distance, a muffled voice shouts out something unintelligible from across the hall, through both doors.
Gareth hears the shouting and quickly tries to untangle himself from the blankets. Wearing nothing more than his pants, he staggers to the door and opens it, looking up and down the hallway through the lamplight illuminating everything.
Narrator: The voice, a little clearer, seems to be coming from the next door down across the hall, on the way to the stairs.
Gareth gives his head a bit of a shake as he makes his way out and across the hall to the door in question. He frowns a little, noting the number on the door matches the one he saw just a few seconds ago in his dream. A moment later, he raises a fist and thumps it firmly against the door. "Piper? Piper, ye alright in there, lass?"
Narrator: There is a lot of scuffling from the other side of the door after the muffled voice quiets down, then four thumping footsteps trailed by the sound of something dragging across the floor. The handle jiggles slightly as the deadbolt is unlocked.
Gareth steps back a bit and watches the door get unlocked. "Ye alright in there, Piper? Heard ye shoutin' somethin' fierce a few seconds ago."
Mirriam opens the door partway, clumsily rubbing her left eye with one hand and holding a heavy blanket (which is what had been dragging behind her, not Piper's tail) around her otherwise unclothed body. "Meh... I di'nt order breakfas'... An' no Piper here... Who's you? Go 'way please goodnight..." She leans heavily against the doorframe, yawning.
Gareth blinks in confusion, taking a moment to look at Mirriam to make sure he's not imagining things. "Uh... sorry, miss. I heard shoutin' from this room, thought it was a friend o' mine havin' a nightmare."
Mirriam blinks sleepily at Gareth, huffing. "Y'sure... I'm sorry." She turns away from Gareth, probably groggily thinking she'd bothered him as she heads back into her room, leaving the door ajar and seeming to be asleep before she flops back into her bed. The doorknob behind Gareth turns, a more familiar snout poking through the opening.
Piper whispers a gravelly whisper. "Gareth? Why stomping around? Woke me up..." She leaves that there, though she seems to leave off a detail such as a bad dream.
Gareth reaches over and quietly closes the door once Mirriam walks back to her bed, only to turn around and blink when he sees Piper's snout. "Ah... guess I had the wrong door... Ye alright, Piper?"
Piper chuckles her notes very quietly for a moment, opening her door further. "Uhm... Ay. Ah. Want some tea?" She steps back to invite Gareth in, showing she's already got a small teapot siting on a magitech cooktop. The steam rising from it suggests she's been up for a few more minutes than Gareth.
Gareth hums and nods, casting a bit of a sheepish look over his shoulder at Mirriam's door before he goes to join Piper in her room. "Aye... thank ye, lass. I decided to stop by and check in on ye. Heard some pretty nasty shoutin' a little while ago."
Piper grunts, following Gareth in and moving the chair, useless to her, out of the corner for Gareth to sit on. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed, drawing the sheet across her naked lap after a moment before pouring a second cup of tea out. "Nm. Yes. Was having a terror. Don't... Let the kangaroo know. Talks a lot."
Gareth nods as he takes a seat on the offered chair. "I won't lass. I doubt she'll even remember the disturbance in the mornin', anyway." He sighs quietly, "Nightmares aren't any fun. Anythin' ye want to talk about?"
Piper thinks on it for a few moments, shivering slightly. "Was in the field. Caravan day. Only wouldn't end. Couldn't stop them coming. Couldn't stop myself." She shudders harder, setting her tea cup down and staring at the kettle.
Gareth hums quietly. "Mmh... when we got ambushed on the way over, aye." He thinks for a few moments, then tilts his head curiously, "Sounded like ye were shoutin' somethin' about gettin' someone out o' yer head when I came out o' me room. Was that somethin' about the nightmare, too?"
Piper blinks, looking to Gareth and shaking her head slightly. "Don't think so? Sure was me? Been up for a bit."
Gareth shrugs a little. "Not really sure. Heard someone' yellin' and it was comin' from this side o' my room. Not sure if it was that kangaroo, though. Looked like she was gettin' a pretty good bit o' sleep before I woke her up."
Piper hums, shaking her head. "Maybe. Didn't hear much. Heard you jump out of bed." She sighs, leaning back and gesturing at the cup. "Drink your tea." It's got a strong smell, certainly medicinal in some way, most likely to aid sleep.
Gareth hums as he picks up his cup. He's about to take a sip when he catches the scent of something familiar and medicinal. He blinks, tilting his head at Piper. "Smells familiar... sleepin' aid?"
Piper blinks, chuckling after a moment. "Ay. Sorry, wasn't thinking. Water in that jug, or milk there. Milk stops it working." She shrugs, picking up her tea and taking a relatively dainty sip. She's silent for a few moments before looking to Gareth. "So wasn't shouting, what woke you?"
Gareth hums as he reaches over and grabs the milk to neutralize the medicine in his cup. He takes a sip once he's got his drink squared away so that it doesn't knock him out for the better part of the day. "Had a bit o' a dream o' me own about the caravan attack. Kind o' weird one, too..." He hums quietly, "Then when I woke up, I heard someone callin' out from this side, but... might o' been that kangaroo lass across the way, I don't know."
Piper nods, adjusting herself on the bed slightly. "Can stay for a bit. Don't have to talk on dreams. Could be company, though."
Gareth shrugs a little. "I don't mind talkin' about the dream if ye like. It was just strange, since I wasn't doin' any fightin'. It felt more like I was just watchin' this time." He nods at Piper, "Ye were fightin', though."
Piper grunts, though she chuckles once after a moment thinking. "Fighting even elsewhere. Strange, both dreaming same even at same time."
Gareth hums and nods. "Aye, though I woke up mostly because I fell out o' bed." He smiles a bit at Piper, "Coincidental timin', but ye were about to pounce on me shoutin' to 'get out o' yer head', when I fell out o' bed."
Piper tilts her head slightly, a faint smile starting. "Maybe was just in your dream, then? Least you dodged."
Gareth laughs a little. "Maybe it was just me dream, aye, but no. Ye caught me by surprise. Only savin' grace was that I woke up, else ye would have had me pinned pretty firmly."
Piper grins, nodding. "Sounds right. By surprise, though? Am not sneaky."
Gareth shakes his head, likewise smiling in amusement. "More that I thought I was just a bystander. Not affected, ye know?" He trails off a bit, his smiling dipping a little as he tries to sort the dream a little, "Though, I guess I was a little distracted talkin' with, er... someone."
Piper hums, thinking for a few moments. "Sammi? Or Fury?"
Gareth shakes his head. "Neither. I didn't see either o' them in the dream. I was talkin' with yer brother, James."
Piper blinks at Gareth, humming again. "Interesting. Hm. Have anything good to say? Apologize for making little sister come to Respite?"
Gareth hums in discontent, his expression souring a little as he tries to recall more of his dream. "From what I remember, not really. He wasn't actin' anythin' like I remember him bein' when we first met."
Piper scratches her chin, leaning forward a bit and setting her tea cup aside. "Am not tell, can't parse dreams. Strange thoughts. Perhaps Sammi can? Or any mages?"
Gareth hums. "Maybe. Wish I could find Sammi, though. She's been busy helpin' Xochi out with somethin' recently, and I don't know where they are." He shrugs, "I suppose I could ask Elizabeth or Teis, though. They're both mages."
Piper gives Gareth a look, tilting her head a bit. "Thought you were close. How long missing?"
Gareth shakes his head a little. "Not too long. It was somethin' the two had planned fer a while, so it's probably some kind o' big magic thing they need some time to do. Probably goin' to start searchin' fer them if it's more than a few days, though. It's not like they can get very far within a few days, and Sammi's strong enough to fight off most things if she has to until I find them."
Piper hums, feeling the effects of her tea starting in as she lets out a stifled yawn. "If needed, can help. Just find me."
Gareth hums, nodding as he takes another sip of his tea, draining the cup. "I'll be sure to find ye if I need the help, aye." He chuckles as he sets the cup back down, "Though... I think I should let ye get back to sleep for now, lass."
Piper nods, setting her own empty cup aside and getting to her feet, casting the sheet back onto her bed. "Walk you out. Don't bother kangaroo again, ay?"
Gareth stands back up with an amused grin. "Don't worry, I'll try to keep it down on the way back to me own room. Thanks fer the tea, Piper."
Piper nods, following Gareth to her door. "Ay. Thanks for checking. Appreciated."
Gareth hums and makes his way back to the hall outside of Piper's room. "Have yerself a good night, Piper. Talk to ye again soon... though maybe not quite so late at night, hm?" He grins at his own comment, then gives the croc a salute as he starts to make his way back to his own room.