The Events of the 6th of Malachite, 1062"Major DayCovering, do I have to continue working on the screw pumps?" asked Merkil. He was covered in sweat, having spent the two weeks after his arrival working the pump almost without break. Major ---- DayCovering, showing interest in something other than his horse shoes for the first time since he took up residence in the fortress, was now busying his days sleeping in a chair by his working apprentice.
Opening one eye, he peered suspiciously at the youth. He pushed the cap on his head up with a thumb, slowly pulling out of his nap-time slouch. "You need to build strength, then our training can begin."
Merkil dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, leaning heavily against the pump's arm. Things just weren't turning out exactly as he had expected. Having traveled from an outlying hall at the edge of Stukos Matul, Merkil was expecting to see royalty and high courts, justice done, a massive trading hall. But what was here? A mangled mountainside, an ants nest of hallways and rooms carved seemingly at random. And where was Queen Risen? Dead, he'd been told, after an accident that took her, her court, and her retainers.
He'd wanted to join the Queen's Guard, using the hammer he'd swung back home to dispense The Queen's justice. He'd been told by the old bear he now served under, "The only Guards are Aryn's personal jackboots. Or Stravitch's broken and beaten peace keepers. You're better off with me. I'll show you the ropes. We'll make it far together, you and I."
Oh, he'd made it far. Three thousand revolutions in the past five hours...
***
"C'mon, Son!" Stravitch called over his shoulder. "Yer' lolligagging is holding us back!"
Varen sighed, the spear he was dragging behind him drawing uneven, curved lines in the red sand. Sergeant Towersacks spent the evenings with her child and her boyfriend, her instructions to her charge, "Listen to the Veterans. We of the Spear need all the help we can get; Take their advice. Do their bidding. Learn from them, to bring honor to our profession."
He followed her orders as directed, though he wasn't quite sure how getting drug to the brothel by the highest-ranked soldier in the Fortress would teach him how to better survive in battle.
Walking through the petrified wood doors, they were immediately assailed with the smells of heavy incense and perfume, and meats being fried. The bar was lively, multiple voices shouting and laughing from inside. It seemed Ex-Mayor Melbil's tantrum and bar room brawl hadn't decreased the popularity of the brothel; if anything, it had increased thanks to the stories told.
They passed the stunted oddity sitting in the chair, Stravitch waving his hand contemptuously in the bouncers direction. He was making a bee-line for the large set of doors at the end of the hallway, and the attractive girl in front of them. Her beard was in braids, a simple and small leather-and-bone outfit covering her. She smiled demurely as he approached, giggling as he gave her a slap on the rump.
"You're eye's looking a lot better, Mookie. I can't believe that Melbil caught you with that right hook."
"Well, it's thanks to you that she didn't do anything worse," purred the working girl.
"Now how could I let her go and hurt you, huh? Now c'mon. I'm on leave and want to use it well."
As Stravitch vanished behind the doors with his girl, Varen sighed again. He supposed he'd go and get a greasy meal at the bar and have a couple drinks, listening to the arguments over a card game. He glanced over his shoulder towards the bored bouncer, stopping after a few paces.
He turned and stared at him, eyes narrowing. He was ratty looking in his mottled leather armor, a thin line of stubble running along his jaw. Long, unkempt hair was pulled back with a bandanna, weathered face asymmetrical thanks to the large eye patch. Varen smiled faintly, remembering the old...
"Snake?"
The Bouncer snapped his gaze over quickly, the one good eye widening.
"...Snake?!"
He lifted his hand up, pressing a finger to his lips. Varen silenced immediately, dread filling his stomach as one of the Hero's of Old, long missing, gestured towards the room beside his chair.
***
They sat in Snake's small room, taking turns pulling from a silver flask of whiskey. Varen had listened to the story of his exile, how he'd been shaved and sent away for being a traitor, how Sulari had begged for him to be spared the hammer. He talked of his years living by the river, living off of turtle meat and the occasional live camel that he could hunt.
"I thought it would be easy to leave," He said softly. He blew a plume of smoke, ashing into a small bowl on the table. "I'd already sold the place out, I'd been caught, and it was Zefon's grace that I wasn't sent to sleep in the crypt. But I couldn't, I just couldn't bring myself to cross that stream. And no. I hold you no ill will, you didn't know what you were bringing me."
Varen sighed, the question on his lips dying as Snake went ahead answering it. Instead, he asked, "But... why did you do it? Why did you send the nobles all that information?"
"Because Aryn is ruining this place. He's power hungry, anyone can see that, but...I don't think he's all there. He's selfish and has no honor. He wasn't 'sparing my life', he thought he was giving me a prolonged execution. I sent those messages to the Budseals because I was hoping that getting the nobility interested, they could come in and shape it up. Reign him in. Make sure nothing drastic happened, and ... look what it got us. He had The Queen killed, and cared as much about doing it as he did leading cats to the butchers.
"Do me a favor, kid. Don't let the others know I'm here. They've already forgotten me, I can see it in their eyes when they walk in here to get their jollies. That useless ass Sodel - my apprentice! - just sees me as the sawed-off human I've been posing as. Years training him, and he doesn't even recognize my voice. Just... just keep this between us, alright? I make a decent living, I get room and board. This is enough."
Varen nodded his consent. "I, uh, I won't say anything to the others. But I hope you don't mind if I talk with you when Captain Stravitch drags me here. You were a legend, and Sergeant Towersacks instructed I needed to learn from the Veterans we had on hand. Who better than you?"
Snake laughed, snuffing out his cigarette. "That would be fine, kid. If you want to learn how to get your beard hacked off and your ass kicked out of your home, I'd be the right Dwarf to teach it to ya'."
[ June 01, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]