#ch: diric vajon

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 8 (Late)

I FORGOT TO UPDATE LAST NIGHT -

11724 words!! Some connection building and BACKSTORY! For Diric, at least...

-*-

Their wild run across Vrachos and the scrap with the assassins clearly lowered Rykos’s guard. Diric kept his mouth shut as he continued arming himself, stepping away from the armor rack to reach under the bedframe for his weapons. He could see Rykos wavering on just how much to tell him; after all, they had only just met within the past hour, but Diric had ensured Rykos and Veli had gotten to safety. That had to work in his favor somehow.

"I'm sure she'll explain once she’s feeling better,” Rykos sighed, not taking the opening to explain himself. “Jhiris should be here soon, if he went back to our lodgings.”

“It’ll still be a bit of a trek; we dropped at least two or three tiers from the Foreign Arc,” Diric pointed out as he straightened. “On foot going quietly, that’ll be an hour or two. You should get some rest.”

Rykos hummed, as if not really hearing, but Diric made sure to focus on getting his weaponry checked and in place. Arrows counted and in order, quiver intact – over his left shoulder, followed by the wrapped oilskin protecting his unstrung longbow. Then Diric lifted his greatsword carefully up from the bed. The weapon was a little shorter than Diric was tall, with a sturdy leather hilt and respectable crossguard. The one thing that made Diric’s blade somewhat different from another in a smith’s shop was the split blade: a second grip filled a handspan about a third of the way down the blade from the crossguard. Diric made use of it as he carefully eased the sword over his right shoulder, ensuring the off-hilt set on a catch that then secured over the crossguard.

“…that’s a fine blade,” Rykos spoke after a moment. Diric tilted his head to realize Rykos was looking over his sword with a practiced eye. It wasn’t a soldier’s familiarity, unfortunately, but an appreciation for craftsmanship, at least. “Is it from your homeland?”

“Hardly,” Diric scoffed. “No, this…it was a gift. From someone that helped me a few years ago. Said it was more than it seemed, but for now it’s been a decent blade to keep me goin’.”

“Sometimes, that’s all a weapon needs to be,” Rykos pointed out, lifting his spear slightly. It was still bloody from the fight, but as Rykos realized it he drew out a stained rag to start cleaning off the spearhead. “But there can be a time when it can be more, too. Depending on the scenario.”

“For now, it’s sharp. Sharper than fists,” Diric chuckled, and a faint smile pulled up the corners of Rykos’s lips. Once armed, Diric nodded in satisfaction. “Get some sleep; I’ll watch for your mage.”

Diric walked past the bed to take one of the chairs, lift it into his arms, and carry it closer to the door to his room. He set it such that both Rykos and Veli were behind him, though if either of them was to get up Diric wouldn’t be impeding their movement. Diric heard Rykos settle back onto the bed and fall quiet once Diric was seated at his post.

A deeper calm sank into the room, a stark contrast to the insane sprint from Vrachos’s height. It let Diric think, flexing his left hand slowly before his right rubbed at his eyes. Something had happened, in that fight and just before. The ache behind his eye was too familiar, too recent; only one thing could have made that pain return, and it was impossible such a thing could enter Vrachos, let alone realize he was here. But the assassin’s panicked whisper lingered in his thoughts.

What are you?

He had only been living on the surface for five years; Diric’s entire life had been lived in the vast underground city of Arasan, surrounded by politics and secrets but never allowed to reach through to test the game himself. Half-blooded, a shame to his noble mother, and hidden from view so her status wasn’t impacted. Better to be a successful, powerful, influential woman with no attachments than a walking scandal. So, when Diric finally had control of his life, he took a path that would keep her clear of him and he could make his own name: the path of the soldier, someone that could earn his place despite his heritage. But he ended up bottom-tier, trawling the outer tunnels and killing monsters that could threaten the city.

Diric winced at another twinge in his head as his thoughts wandered to a dark, blank stretch. The only things that pierced that haze were pain and hundreds of voices pressed within his own – enough that Diric itched at long scars down his right cheek, coiling around his neck. The best he could guess, from the last memory he could clearly call his own ahead of that emptiness, was that he had been captured and nearly consumed by a colony of no’jaa. Brain-eating parasites with a singular hive mind, no’jaa weren’t a threat to dismiss – which was how they had ambushed Diric’s unit and slaughtered nearly everyone. Those that hadn’t died in the attack had either managed to escape somehow, or…

Diric clenched his left hand into a swift fist, to ground himself here, in Vrachos. Not in the darkness that had suppressed him, consumed him, until, somehow, he must have escaped.

The clerics at the temple he had come to, voice lost and memories shards, had told him a date seventy years later than Diric could clearly recall. They had been astounded; he had been mystified. He should be dead. He should be a mass of individual white parasites puppeteering his bones with no sense of who he was, entirely enmeshed with the hive.

“So you survived.”

Diric bolted out of his seat, starting to reach up to the hilt of his sword, as the voice cut through his thoughts. Jhiris remained poised in the doorway, unfazed at Diric’s instinctive movement as his gaze swept the room. Once Jhiris appeared satisfied that Rykos and Veli were in one piece, the mage leaned forward over Diric with narrow eyes and slightly pursed lips.

“Let me be clear about something,” Jhiris murmured. “The wellbeing of Prince Rykos and Lady Kyveli are my purview. You? Are nothing more than a guard. Or guide, whatever it is Veli believes you’ll be useful for. But there is nothing else you provide. Once the prince achieves his goal, you will leave our company. Well-paid, yes, but you will leave.”

A chill ran down Diric’s spine as he was effectively forced to sit back in his chair. Mage Jhiris might be, but that tone of voice reminded Diric too much of his superiors in the army. Diric could only tilt his head down slightly in acquiescence, which was enough of a response for Jhiris to ease away from him.

“…you did well to bring them here, at least,” Jhiris confessed. “We shall rest, then leave in the morning.”

Diric managed to make a stronger nod as Jhiris breezed past, undoubtedly taking claim to the remaining chair in the room. He had to take a few moments for the tension to bleed back out of his body, leaning forward to press his forehead into his hands. “What the hells have you gotten mixed up in, Vajon.”

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 7

A whole week DONE! 9986 in total thus far; yes, in spitting distance of 10k. I'm probably behind the NaNo pace but I do not care at present! Here's some action, and glimpses of what all Diric, Veli, and Rykos are capable of...though Diric's realizing something might be different about himself...

-*-

Glass rained down on shrieking nobles as Diric leaped through the window of Veli’s room at the Azure Spear. There was no time to think beyond a few moments; it was the only way to get through whatever thugs were coming for the three foreigners and get Veli and Rykos to the Hellhound. Diric managed to twist in the air to soften his landing into a shuttered shop stall, even if he felt his shoulder pop and his breath was driven out of his chest.

Move!

He managed to recover swiftly and push himself onto his feet, in time to watch Veli clamber down an ivy-wreathed trellis as Rykos eased his own fall by catching a nearby streetlamp and sliding down it smoothly spear and all. Diric tried to realign his shoulder, but it was a quick grab from Veli and a swift twist under her touch shifted the ongoing throb to a dull ache.

“Well, that’ll have drawn attention,” Veli quipped, but Diric was already moving. A flash of electric energy snapped above them; Jhiris would just have to catch up.

“He’s getting more; come on,” Diric ordered. He took off down the street, only hoping Veli and Rykos were following him. The roving drunkards at least cleared the way, allowing Diric to run smoothly towards the nearest stairs out of the Foreign Arc.

“On our right!” Veli shouted, drawing Diric’s gaze that way to a shadowed group vaulting alongside them using the rooftop roads favored by Vrachos’s sundry criminal outfits. A wisp of white light burst from behind him, and although the magic only glanced off the shoulder of one figure it was enough to reveal a group of three chasing them down.

A prince and two magi. Fucking hells, what have you got yourself into, Vajon?

“This way,” Diric called, turning towards their pursuers. If they didn’t lose the assassins, Tal would have his head on one of his silver platters – and Diric would have to trust Veli and Rykos to hold their own with him unarmed and unarmored. He climbed with an old cavern-crawler’s ease up a side wall onto the nearest roof, and managing to startle one of the gray-clad assassins to boot. But what exactly was he going to be able to do about it?

As Diric finished his climb, one of the assassins stumbled to a halt right above him, and it was more instinct than decision that Diric swung a fist upward. His knuckles connected with the assassin’s jaw, and a surge of something rushed through Diric’s arm – causing the assassin’s jaw to splinter under the sheer force that Diric somehow put into the punch.

Not normal, what in –

“Oh, this is a mess all right,” Veli hissed from under him. The assassin Diric had engaged jabbed towards her, but a sudden sharp whistle made the assassin lurch back. The whistle was followed up with a swift stab of a dagger Veli must have tucked under her clothes. The assassin’s slump let Diric kick the falling body away from them, giving Veli clearance to get up onto the rooftop and allowing Rykos to clamber up with spear in hand.

“There! That’s them! Kill them all!” another voice called out; one of the remaining two assassins had spotted them and both were now adjusting course. Diric was about to raise his fists, but Rykos slid in front of him with his spear at the ready. As the first of the other two assassins came in close, Rykos lunged out swiftly enough that the spearhead rammed through the assassin’s shoulder. This halted that charge but allowed the final assassin to dart around and try to slash at Rykos. A scraping sound itched Diric’s ears as the short blade glanced off of something metallic under Rykos’s tunic; armor, for certain.

Instinct kicked in. With Rykos holding off one assassin, Diric closed the gap to the second that had missed their mark. The assassin danced away from Diric’s attempted strike, and a muffled curse from behind him suggested Veli had just tried and failed to get a spell to work on the assassin. So much for that. Diric shifted to stand back-to-back with Rykos, and the better to see Veli and the assassin Rykos wasn’t directly engaging with. A cry of pain from behind Diric made it clear that Rykos knew exactly what he was doing.

This left the last assassin lunging in Diric’s direction. The blade cut towards Diric’s chest, but Diric sensed that sharp rush of power through his body again. Something behind his eye twinged as the blade suddenly stopped short of piercing his skin. Diric heard the assassin make a noise of confusion before looking at Diric directly.

“What the fuck are you?”

Diric braced himself before leaning back just enough to headbutt the assassin, just to force them away – and get the twinging behind his eye to stop. The assassin’s reeling steps stumbled as somehow Veli raised her strange instrument and plucked a haunting tune across the strings – which glowed as, somehow, she used the musical notes to unleash a more complex spell. The assassin howled, a bloodstain appearing on the cloth covering the lower part of their face, before collapsing in a twitching pile.

“You all right?” Diric made sure to ask her as Veli wobbled on her feet slightly from the effort of the casting. She waved him off, in time for Diric to turn and spot Rykos slashing his spear forward in a quick maneuver to cut across the final assassin’s face. “…we need to move,” Rykos huffed as he flicked his spear a final time, to get the thickest bloodstains off the metal. “Diric. Where?”

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 6

8221 after a mad last-minute dash! Wednesdays this month are gonna be rough with work, so I probably shouldn't expect a lot of words on Wednesdays. But! We finally have some MEETINGS!

-*-

Diric only hesitated as Rykos reached a corridor that was occupied by a single figure, not as tall as Rykos but as richly dressed in blacks where Rykos had off-white. Clearly the mage Diric had heard about, Diric was more surprised that the mage, Jhiris, looked to be from the far western reaches of the Confederation with his swarthy skin – despite being sunworn, or maybe even speckled with soft fur – and night-black hair. Jhiris’s eyes squinted further as he spotted Diric and paced towards him and Rykos with a startling speed.

“…and who might this be?” Jhiris stated in a voice far crisper and colder than Diric expected; there was almost no accent at all that he could pick up. “I didn’t think Lady Argyro was collecting fans.”

Diric scowled and squared his shoulders sharply, though he managed to keep his tongue behind his teeth. Rykos’s chuckle just made the subtle insult chafe.

“Apparently Veli has been putting out feelers for a guide; he seems to think he’ll be worthwhile,” Rykos answered; Diric was too focused on keeping his temper controlled to speak for himself. “At the very least he could be useful in a fight; we’ve had plenty of those the past few months.”

Diric’s knuckles popped slightly from how tightly he was clenching his hands, though the mage glared at him like a stain under his boot.

“Then come this way,” Jhiris conceded, turning to place himself between Rykos and Diric. He followed the two foreigners towards a set of servant and theater operator stairs, at the top of which Diric suspected were performer quarters. Jhiris paced towards the second of three doors on one side of the hallway – the other framed windows to the interior of the Azure Spear – and opened the door without any warning.

“What in the bloody flaming hells are you doing, Foxborn?!” a woman’s voice snapped in rage. Jhiris only hesitated half a step at the doorway before the bard appeared – still clothed, at least – and standing on the balls of her feet to get into Jhiris’s personal space. “Setting and station doesn’t matter except when it comes to women in general, you idiot.”

“This is important, Lady Argyro,” Jhiris pressed, despite the bard snarling ‘Veli’ to correct him. “There’s a sellsword here. Since when have you been looking to hire on an outsider?”

“Every city and town we’ve bene to since Teotelam, no thanks to you scaring most of them off,” Veli retorted before she whirled on Rykos. “And you’re no help either! Lazing around and brooding like some ingénue! You are not a lazy rich noble draped in his salon!”

“I did find him, Veli,” Rykos replied; he seemed unfazed by Veli’s rage, and it was entertaining enough that Diric could relax a little. It had been like this, once, a long time ago. Female commanders shouting down their male subordinates, female heads of state ensuring their retainers stayed in line. “Well, somewhat, he walked into the side bar as if he was coming to look for where you would leave the stage.”

“Smart man, though that’s a little presumptive,” Veli noted with a grin before she finally focused on Diric. “All right, you come in. These two can stay outside, where they belong.”

“That’s, er, not necessary, if they’re…your superiors in some way,” Diric ventured. Veli tilted her head at him, gaze evaluating, before she hummed a concession.

“Fine, they still don’t deserve it,” Veli sighed as she stepped back into her room. Diric glanced to Rykos and Jhiris, and when neither of them moved for the door Diric took the initiative to follow Veli.

Diric knew from experience that high society lived differently from the life he’d chosen and endured, which was why he was fairly surprised that this room, clearly reserved for the night’s star performer, was so simple in décor and space. The gaudy gold walls did not breach the wooden panels that padded the space for privacy, and the windows angled more upward along the roofline, blocking a view of the street below without losing the arch of Vrachos’s cliffs and slender shoreline. Veli padded easily to the simple bed, covered in sheets and a single blanket ideal for Vrachos’s mild autumn weather, and sat cross-legged on it. Diric dared to approach the windows, mostly to allow Rykos and Jhiris to enter the room behind him and settle for whatever interrogation was about to happen.

“So, you’ve found us,” Veli began, voice light and elegant but with a too-familiar edge that kept Diric facing the exterior windows. The bustle below was still audible, enough that Diric could hear the noble customers tumbling out on their next stop on whatever benders or crawls some of them seemed intent on. “You don’t seem to be the sort I’m usually talking with about my needs. Leaves me curious as to how you heard I was hiring.”

All he needed was to get hired. Sakina hadn’t said anything about concealing her role in getting him here.

“Got a friend in the city guard that put me in the loop,” Diric replied, shrugging as he turned from the window enough to meet Veli’s evaluating stare. “No, I’m probably not the caliber of merc you’ve seen here in Vrachos, because you’re in the wrong part of town to hire. But I’ll probably the nearest you’ll get to whatever social standing.”

“You’re kurasu – duskskin, a dark elf,” Jhiris spat, leaving Diric’s eyes rolling briefly. “Worse than humans. Selfish grasping slavers.”

“Half kurasu, for starters,” Diric corrected. “Second, you seem to have missed the Ember War. Slavery’s outlawed there now, I’ve heard. On the official records, at least.”

“Social standing isn’t why we’re up here; it’s there two are snobs and won’t rub elbows with anything less than…this,” Veli clarified. “And whatever baggage you’ve got, doesn’t matter, yet, at least. What we really need is a guide; someone that knows this side of the Inner Sea well, without information that isn’t at least twenty or thirty years old.”

Diric caught Jhiris’s scoff and rolled his eyes again. “Been up here for about five, so aye, I’d call that more recent,” Diric noted, earning a soft chuckle from Veli. “Guide, I can be, but where are you looking to go?”

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 5

7076! A bit more done today than yesterday! Finally getting Diric to meeting his new friends! And I am terrible at song lyrics/poetry so I did my fuckennnn best.

-*-

A steady stream of people eventually settled in the main hall, and Diric even spotted some others left to stand in the back like him. No one bothered with coming into his corner, at least, so where the torches magically dimmed Diric’s eyes easily adjusted into tones of grey and black. The rustling of movement and voices quieted, and Diric’s eyes fixed on the stage as a figure strode out and stepped into a soft halo of light left for their presence. This had to be the bard Sakina had heard about: a willowy figure with long braided hair clipped with silver and ivory, clad in a fine loose blouse and vest with wide, billowing trousers that almost looked like the full skirt of a gown. From this distance Diric couldn’t quite make out her features, but the soft copper sheen of her skin already suggested she wasn’t from anywhere in the Confederation he knew of.

A polite smattering of applause filled the room as the bard pulled what appeared to be a lute across her front, though instead of a rounded body the lute was leaner, the strings stretched upward more visibly rather than flat to the lute’s body. The bard ducked her head slightly in recognition of her greeting before making final adjustments to her instrument.

The first chord felt familiar, and although the tune wasn’t anything particularly new to Diric’s hearing something else flitted across his awareness, like a lick of magic teasing against his ear. He winced as the feeling twinged something deeper, but he made himself keep eyes on the bard. Nothing she was doing suggested magic, so what –

Something in his head seemed to twist, and Diric had to lean hard into a wall as the burst in his head itched down the back of his neck and seemed to suffuse his body. Diric held down a snarl of pain before, as suddenly as it had happened, the flash vanished – even if the strange buoyed feeling didn’t. He looked back up to find the bard swaying as she played and sang, while her audience clapped along.

“Let the wings of myth unfold,

And the songs of dragons pierce the skies –

New days shall come with glowing nights,

To behold the lost soul’s eyes.”

Diric huffed slightly, despite how catchy the tune was. He managed to ease off the wall he was leaning against and left the main hall, trying to slip carefully towards the back rooms. The farthest he could get was a side bar with an open wall to the main room, where he could still hear the song reverberating against those gaudy walls. Diric resettled there, trying to keep his eyes open for either of her retinue. Better than dwelling on that strange feeling that had flooded him, or the words of the bard’s song.

“…well, this is interesting.”

Diric’s focus snapped toward the sound of that voice and tensed on seeing a lanky figure who had blended into the shadowy walls. The fact Diric hadn’t noticed him was mostly due to the pale tones of his robelike clothing contrasted with the rich warmth of his skin. Where the bard’s skin was warm in light, this man – probably her bodyguard – had warmth in darkness. He loomed closer, towering over Diric by a handspan at least, as long twisted locks trimmed in gold fell over his shoulder. Diric felt his presence too keenly, too strongly, to stand fully from the bar, but Diric managed to square his shoulders.

“Usually Veli’s performances hold an audience’s attention, not drive someone out of where they’ve settled,” the bodyguard noted, flashing a sardonic smirk towards Diric. “Then again she did have a rougher start, what can I say. She seems to think it does better for us in the long run.”

“Veli; that the bard? Your boss?” Diric questioned. He didn’t expect the surprised look from the bodyguard before he barked a laugh.

“My boss? Hardly. In fact, I am her employer,” the bodyguard retorted. Diric could only guess one of two things: this was the Azure Spear’s owner, or the bard’s bodyguard was very confused. “Now I think you had better answer some questions for me, since I answered yours despite no introductions.”

Diric inhaled deeply, mostly in warning, but the bodyguard’s smirk didn’t waver, nor did his keen green stare.

“What brings you sneaking around? Her performance is hardly that terrible.”

“Heard she was hiring. Work’s tight for sellswords these days, after the storm,” Diric replied. It wasn’t a lie, not fully, but he noticed the bodyguard tense as he caught the half-truth in it. “Do I look like a woodcutter that can swim?”

“No. You look like trouble,” the bodyguard huffed. He relaxed slightly, enough to lean against the bar near Diric, but Diric recognized the coiled approach of a wary predator. Diric had never been good at lying, despite growing up surrounded by the political environment that required it for survival. “Who sent you? No excuses.”

“Nobody sent me.” Which was perhaps three-quarters true. “I heard from my contacts Veli was lookin’ to hire a mercenary. I’m one of the best in the city that’s not on emergency swim duty, and I need the money to keep my current roof over my head.” Not a lie in the slightest.

Diric’s answer was enough for the subtle tension to bleed out of the bodyguard’s frame, and the smirk to soften a little before the bodyguard tapped the bar for drinks. Diric released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and gladly downed the crisp ale that arrived alongside a glass of red wine for the bodyguard. “We still seem to be missing introductions,” the bodyguard pointed out after a few moments of quiet punctuated only by Veli’s performance; her song about dragons and eyes had ended for another simple bar tune without words, probably to spare her voice. “You may call me Rykos.”

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 4

Not as much ground out as I wanted today, total count 5634. Lots of scene setting as Diric prepares to meet his future comrades! But he needs to know who he's meeting and where to find them...

-*-

Rather than immediately head for the Foreign Arc – another tier up and tucked just beneath the high-class Garden Tier at Vrachos’s peak – Diric adjusted course toward Vrachos’s western side. This sped up thanks to a passing transit cart: six carriages hooked into the road through an underground pulley system powered by the very water Vrachos surrounded. Diric managed to lever himself into the final cart in time to pay the conductor one of his eskenes and settle as the carts rumbled across the second tier into the Entertainment Arc. Calling it ‘entertainment’ was too broad in Diric’s opinion; the district certainly hosted most of Vrachos’s taverns, inns, even a casino or three, but it was also the primary hotbed of the various criminal syndicates that shadowed the more legal merchant companies across the Confederation and beyond. Once he disembarked from his cart, Diric had to climb another tier to reach his current inn.

The Hellhound’s Crown was remarkably clean for its part of the Entertainment Arc, primarily thanks to the akadrasi innkeep Talarwin’s small sorceries that ensured his sundry visitors and tenants didn’t leave a trail to his door. Diric appreciated Tal’s discretion, at least, since he was willing to not look sideways at a half-kurasu mercenary that kept standing on his fine rugs, sometimes dripping blood. Luckily Diric entered without such fanfare, bringing Tal’s gaze up from his account book at his heavy front desk. The entry hall of the Crown was tastefully done in light-stained beams and furniture that didn’t over-contrast the whitewash that remained in the interior, and accented with rich akdrasi tapestries Tal had undoubtedly imported from Jhor’hai.

“Do I detect you coming with another weekly rent payment?” Tal remarked as he lowered his reed pen and lightly tossed his loose dark red hair back as he straightened from the accounts. Diric huffed a chuckle as he approached and loosened the coinpurse in his sash to count out five eskenes. “Two in advance? Feeling bold, dusk-skin.”

“You know I work job to job, and this makes up for last month,” Diric replied, careful not to rise to the jab. Bad blood from the kurasu and akadras warring centuries before Diric’s birth still left a bad taste in many akadrasi mouths. “Come on, cousin, it’s an advance on your fine services.”

“Oh, looking for more than rent today, are we?” Tal ventured as he swept the coins under his desk and made a note in the account. “Very well, what might I offer?”

Tal’s additional services as an information broker were the primary reason Diric put up with him, not to mention the higher-than-average rent compared to other inns in the arc. Diric fished out two more eskenes to show to Tal.

“Heard about a new bard in town, up in the Foreign Arc,” Diric began. “Female, with two retainers. One caster, one scrapper. Bunking at the Harper and Flask. Anything else you might’ve picked up?”

“The Tenaucan bard? Yes, she’s been raking in coin from the nobles and tourists,” Tal answered, drying his pen before tapping the reed lightly against the book. “She has quite the rotation, but has yet to come down here, at least as far as I’ve been able to tell. I would guess it’s in favor of her retinue – they seem much higher class than she is.”

Diric set one coin onto Tal’s desk, watching Tal whisk it out of sight.

“The retinue; what makes you think they’re bigger punchers than her?”

“Simple – she’s comfortable in a crowd, and they’re not,” Tal noted. “Your source is right about the caster; staple magus if I ever saw one. But the other’s not a scrapper. Too big to be moving through a crowd or dealing with problems gently.”

Then why does Sakina think they need me?

“Sure you know her next performance stop for tonight.”

“Of course I do. But you haven’t repaid my last response, and brokerage is a risky business. Particularly in the Entertainment Arc, when I should be on the Foreign Arc at least.”

Diric huffed a sigh but set the second coin on the desk for Tal to swipe into the coin box he likely had under the desk. With the debt paid, Tal drew a piece of paper from another drawer and scrawled on it with his pen. He pushed the paper to Diric before resuming his accounting.

“Dinner will be at seventh bell; that should give you plenty of time to get to the performance,” Tal noted briskly. “And Vajon – I’d suggest not wearing your usual get-up. High society and good manners.”

“You’re tryin’ to extort a bath out of me, too?”

“Included in your two weeks forward payment. But I strongly recommend it.”

[velowri]

Novelvember Day 3

Total count 4530! With wrapping up the prologue with Rykos, Jhiris, and Veli, we get to the meat - and meeting or central protagonist Diric Vajon! But new character and new city means all kinds of new threats...

-*-

Diric Vajon had to sit back and wait as Sakina Ba’as, chief investigator for the Vrachosi city guard, worked an elaborate machine that poured out two small, steaming cups of dark liquid. She paced with all the elegance of a jagaza hunter around her desk and multiple stacks of crates and forms scrawled on wax tablets to set one of the cups in front of Diric. Sakina leaned easily against her desk to sip her own, the deep red-gold scales that extended from the corners of her mouth glinting in the sunlight through a narrow balcony window that wafted the stench of the docks up with each gust off the enclosed bay that the city of Vrachos clung to. Diric watched her, only to get a silent chiding with a firm look from Sakina’s golden cat-slit eyes. He sighed before grabbing the cup and swallowing down the contents: bitter and rich, not to mention searing hot.

“Scared, certainly, but not in need of a sword arm, Vajon,” Sakina stated as Diric grimaced through his tongue puckering from the burning hot liquid. “That last storm capsized at least ten ships in the harbor, let alone the ones out on the open sea or trapped in the channel. Those efforts need swimmers and woodcutters, not a professional like yourself.”

“I can cut wood, hand me an axe, let’s do it.”

“Not in the middle of open water, seeing as you can’t swim.”

Diric grumbled as he set down his empty cup and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Diric,” Sakina began, her voice gentle enough Diric wondered if she was going to pull one of her firearms on him, “you’re a damn good merc. I keep you on my short list for anything that needs to be pummeled that the other guards can’t do, and the Lords’ Council can’t pull their heads out of their asses over. But right now, people need workmen, not mercenaries. Once the harbor’s clear, then I’m sure the syndicates will get right back to murdering and thieving.”

The touch on his shoulder wasn’t the metal barrel of a firearm, but Sakina’s hand. Diric exhaled shakily, enough that Sakina squeezed in reassurance before she circled back around her desk to sit. Once settled, she leaned forward toward him and tossed several loose strands of silvery-black hair that had fallen from her otherwise meticulous bun.

“Look – I know this isn’t your thing,” she offered, “but there’s some talk in the Foreign Arc that there’s a bard looking for a sellsword or two. Newcomer from the south. Whatever the singer’s got in mind, it should fill the time for the docks to recover, and I’ll keep you top of the list once trouble kicks up.”

“Not unless the trouble finds me first,” Diric ventured with a weak grin. Sakina chuckled and nodded in agreement. “What tavern’s the bard at? Don’t tell me it’s rotating.”

“Performances sure; but a set of eyes reported she holes up at the Harper and Flask,” Sakina replied. “Has two retainers, one sorcerer-type and a bodyguard. Interesting company, I’ll admit.”

“And you haven’t gotten someone inserted in with them yet why?”

Sakina smirked at him.

“I’m looking at the person I’d like to get inserted in there.”

“Gods-damn, Sakina, I’m not a spy…”

“I don’t need you to be a spy, Vajon. I need you to get in close enough to find out why three foreigners wash up with the storms practically unscathed and haven’t either started selling wares or gone up to the Garden Arc to treat with whatever Lordship they might be attached to.”

Diric frowned as Sakina uncharacteristically overplayed her hand. It had to be intentional, but anything to do with the various nobility and merchant-princes of Vrachos was typically well out of Diric’s wheelhouse. That she suspected this bard and her retainers had that sort of pull meant trouble; sending Diric in suggested she was either out of options or wanted him to blunder in like a sledgehammer.

“I’m supposed to flounce in, bat my eyes, and ask if she’d pretty-please come with me to the nearest safehouse for you to question?”

“Even easier than that,” Sakina admitted with a shrug. “Go in and get hired. Find out what they’re about. If it’s a problem for me, you let me know and I can get them hustled up in a day. If it’s not, then you get some free time and pay without asking me after work for the fourth time in a week.”

That she was serious surprised Diric more than he would have ever admitted. Sending him to slap down smugglers was one thing; approaching these foreigners that could have noble ties was another entirely.

Diric leaned back in his seat with a sigh and rubbing the back of his neck. If it did end up being nothing, at the very least it was passing the time. There was no way a bunch of foreigners would be able to match his usual rates, let alone what Sakina paid for his retainer. Better to be paid to sit on his ass that sitting without getting paid. No pay meant no food and no roof. The last thing Diric needed was to end up sleeping on the streets again – which was how he had met Sakina in the first place, anyway.

“Harper and Flask, huh? Maybe she’ll be there t’sing tonight.”

“If not, it shouldn’t be hard for you to find out where,” Sakina agreed. “Here; retaining payment. I know, early, but think of it as a forward payment.”

She set a small coinpurse onto the desk and waited as Diric pried it open to count forty gold-bronze eskenes. Diric rolled his eyes and scooped about half of it out to set back on her desk.

“Next whining dockmaster that bothers you can have that,” he told her, drawing a barking laugh out of Sakina.

“Deal; send him on in, then. That’ll smooth the next hour or so, I’m sure.”