In his search for new hooks, Felazo wandered off from his two guests. He didn’t know them well, but he figured they both would try to keep a low enough profile. That’s not why he left them behind. In fact, it’s sort of the opposite. The people he knew who were willing to deal in the sort of long-told tales and ancient books that he needed to find his adventures were not the sort who accepted new faces easily. And the pair of differently sheltered foreigners were not the sort of new faces that Gantorim Elgorimsen would appreciate the strange elf bringing to his doorstep.
The hovel of Gantorim Elgorimsen is several winding roads and misshapen blocks into one of the seemingly residential areas of the Peaceful Fishing Collective. A one story, rundown looking circular hut, matching those around it in every way, though somewhat more in disrepair when compared to its neighbors. From the outside. But appearances are deceiving. Felazo gives a look to Kalzia, who darts off from his shoulder and clambers up to the hovel’s roof. Keeping an eye out for other people approaching. Felazo sweeps through the door with the utmost confidence.
The only thing in the entryway is a staircase down to a basement. Taking the stairs down with equal flair, Felazo finds himself in the three story tall open library Gantorim maintains under the collective. “Gantz,” Felazo says with a smile, “Are you awake, Old Man?”
From the second story, behind one of the shelves, there is a grumpy grunt. “Which of you assholes is it?” he says, “Felazo or Nicarzi? You sound the same.”
“Rude,” Felazo jokes as he reaches the second floor, insisting, “Nicarzi has a much less pleasant tenor to her voice.”
“Same lack of respect,” the well-rounded, mostly-bald dwarf says, shaking his head as he comes out from the shelves. “What do you want, az v’Icria?”
“Hey, I haven’t been kicked out yet. Formally,” Felazo objects, “And don’t know. Your last book led me to a previously scoured site. Anything weirder this time?”
“Sorry,” he says, “I warned you, though. All I can do is give you what I have, can’t tell you what to expect when you go places that aren’t in this library.”
“So, anything fun? I’ve got some help aboard if it’s dangerous.”
“You? Who’s crazy enough to travel with you?” Felazo just looks at the portly dwarf. After a moment, Gantorim shakes his head and heads off. “Just a heads up, this is probably out of your skill range, not only because of the actual protections detailed, but it’s also in the New City States,” he rambles as he walks to a shelf on the first floor. Felazo follows. “So, because you’re going to die, I’m going to overcharge.”
Felazo laughs. “Deal, friend. And when I get back from this book’s journey, I expect you to undercharge me for the next one.”
Gantorim looks at the laughing elf and, still looking grumpy, says, “No promises. Thirty-five.”
Felazo smiles. “If I give you forty, can that become a promise?” After Gantorim grumbles his agreement, Felazo drops thirty five gold in the dwarf’s hand. “Just kidding, I just wanted to see if you’d agree.”
Gantorim starts cursing at the Sea Elf in Dwarfish. Felazo relieves the dwarf of the ancient book and starts reading it as he walks away from the tiny ball of fury. It really is quite fascinating. A collection of stories, the first a tale of a great cursed pirate from the early days of Hetha. As Felazo leaves the hut, Kalzia hops down onto his shoulder, squeaking in warning. Looking up, he sees someone on a rooftop readying arrows. With a sigh, he begins to head that way. After all, how could it not be the strange pair he left alone in a dangerous foreign town.
Heading down the several winding roads towards the confrontation, the young Sea Elf watches as the man he can see, the one on the rooftop, gets bound in vines, looses a single arrow, then falls dead off the roof. There is some more movement on the roof but unlike the previous guy, this person knows how to keep unseen, blending in well enough with the background as they move. He passes a man, dressed as a bandit with fear in his eyes, running from the intersection past him. Felazo can’t help but shake his head a little. Bandits these days. Kalzia squeaks his warning that the reaction may be justified. Felazo understands his lump of flesh’s sentiments. After all, the strange foreigners he travels with are kind of scary. But not flee the scene scary, more give a wide berth scary.
Turning the final corner, he comes upon the sight of freshly three dead bodies, none of them the one he saw on the rooftop. He sees the familiar governmental priest, looking somewhat concerned, chatting with some human man that he doesn’t recognize. Looting the corpses, he sees a tall, bulky man. And now he can see clearly the person on the rooftop is the noble hunter, watching for danger in the best way she knows how. Shaking his head as he approaches, Felazo reminds them, though mostly Sister Hilan, “One job, you two.” He makes sure, however, to smile. After a deep sigh, he emphasizes, “All I gave you was one job.”
The large man stands up and readies himself, just in case, I suppose. Felazo muses that either this man is an Elfi’ika, or a very well to do beggar. The human begins to talk to him, asking some inane questions about who he is, not realizing the gravity of the situation right now. Ignoring the man, he instead draws some sigils in the air with bonedust from his pouch. The furthest left of the three corpses begins to move. “Go get the body in the alleyway and hurry into the Sea.” The corpse begins to jog haphazardly towards the alley. Then Felazo repeats almost the same gesture. Once the furthest right corpse stands itself, Felazo commands, “Take this nice body here and bring it as far out into the Sea as you can, quick as you can. If you don’t mind, of course.” Even when they must obey your orders, it always serves to be polite. The walking corpse wrenches up the unmoving one and begins to hurry towards the coast. Not quite running, but more hobble walking. Shaking his head, Felazo turns to Sister Hilan. “And that’s yet another lovely little town I’m going to need to pay so much money to get back into next time I visit. Some of us actually have lives, you know?”
Hilan does not react, nor do the two newcomers. Likely due to the whole corpse helpers. Alessari, less perturbed due to all the magical nonsense she’s experienced on Ressyta, comes back from the roof. “Felazo,” she says, “Coast seems clear. Don’t expect your dead assistants to make it all the way to the coast.”
“It will,” the sea elf replies, gesturing towards the second corpse he raised. Then he adds, “Not sure about that one.” He points in the direction of the corpse, just now coming out of the alleyway carrying another corpse over its shoulder. Looking at the first corpse he raised, Felazo adds a quick, “Hurry.” The undead creature does seem to speed up a little bit. Finally, with the corpse problem taken care of, the sea elf turns to the newcomers and smiles widely. “Sorry about that. Now, I take it you are the watched newcomers?”
“Probably not anymore,” the large one remarks.
The smaller one steps in. “And I take it you are the captain v’Icria?”
Felazo notices a spy type lurking in a window where no one logically should be. “If you don’t mind, I’ve been standing and walking all day and my legs are getting tired. Why don’t we take this to the bar to chat.” Everyone else looks around and nods. Felazo, still smiling, adds, “And maybe on the way the good scion can tell me when and how exactly ‘Keep an eye out and nose clean’ became ‘murder people on the rooftop in broad daylight.’” Kalzia squeaks, feeling uncertain about Felazo’s word choice. Felazo replies to his not-a-monkey, “Nope, murder around these parts. He may have been menacing, but she most definitely fired first.”
Alessari looks over at Felazo, who keeps his wide smile. Rolling her eyes, she replies, “When a bunch of assholes pointed their readied bows at me.”
Hilan steps in, “The bandits did start it and threaten, though you and Den were also very quick to act in response.”
“My good Den simply acted in concert with your huntress. To fight against superior numbers, one must utilize superior tactics and coordination,” the slender human informs the elf.
“I honestly do not care,” Felazo informs the human with a grin as the minute finishes passing and the elf begins to pick up the pace. “You must understand, I’m mostly just intrigued at the scion’s willingness to engage in such nonsense. All things being as they are, you know?”
Alessari shakes her head at the captain, but she says nothing. “Why do you keep calling her the scion?” the large one, Den, asks.
“Do you know her name?” Felazo replies to the Elfi’ika’s question with his own, though he already knows the answer.
“No,” Den answers.
Felazo chuckles. “Which is about what I guessed. And I can refer to my boat hands however I feel like it.” Finally there, Felazo leads them into the shack that he knows to be Lucky Lanoky’s makeshift watering hole. Once again ignoring the people he’s with, the sea elf walks up to the bar. “Lanoky?” he says with a smile.
“Wha-” the woman begins before turning and seeing Felazo. “Goddamnit Felazo. What did you do this time?”
“Nothing,” Felazo says, then pauses and with a smile adds on a very quick, “Okay, so maybe I might have done a little woo woo,” moving his hand in vaguely magical fashion, “But only so I wouldn’t have any trouble with anyone.”
“But, you figure Sanni already knows and is going to be asking you the upset questions.”
“I mean, she’s Sanni.”
Lanoky chuckles. “I suppose she is. Who are the strangers?”
“No idea. Isn’t that fun?” Felazo replies. The woman stares blankly at him. “Anyways, I’ll just have a round of whatever cheap shit you’ve got today for the table.”
“Rude,” she replies as she starts to pour their drinks, “I only have cheap shit.”
Felazo laughs. Lanoky finishes pouring the five drinks relatively quickly, and Felazo takes it over to the table the four troublemakers picked out. “So,” he begins once more, placing down the tray, “Now that we don’t have anyone I don’t know watching us, You want to tell me what’s what?”
Alessari ignores the question, instead asking, “So, do you just, like, know everyone?”
Felazo laughs, but doesn’t answer. Instead looking at the two new gentlemen. “What’s what?” he repeats.
“Well, I am called Ren,” the human begins, “And this is Den. We were wondering if you could take us aboard the fine vessel you doth steer when next you find yourself leaving this here port.”
Felazo thinks about it for a moment, then smiles even wider. “Well, Ren. I have to wonder, how much of that happenstance I came upon falls at the feet of you and Den?”
“Well,” Ren begins to weave together some sort of statement.
Den stares Felazo down and interrupts. “Three.”
Felazo chuckles at the straightforwardness. “Well, as it just so happens, the next place I want to go to is supposed to kill me. So, if you help me get through it and we survive, we’ll split all the treasure fairly and I’ll take you wherever you wish to go.”
“What would that be, exactly?” Alessari asks.
Felazo continues looking to Ren and Den. “Do we have a deal?” he presses.
The pair share a look. Den nods. Ren smiles. “I suppose we do,” he replies.
“Then welcome aboard the Ekzokia,” the captain replies. Then, turning to Alessari, Felazo finally answers her question. “Hethaward. We can drop you off along the way, I suppose, but I’m heading to the unmarked and forgotten tomb of a cursed pirate from the days before Hetha was even a town.” He already knows their answers. All four of them are aimless, wandering. They’ll happily latch on to anyone else’s purpose, so long as it seems interesting.
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