Closed Under the Bridges of Ravok (Rheon Blueheart)

[Amolina]

~ Amolina Moletta ~ ~ 8th day of Winter 513 AV ~ On a whim, Amolina Moletta had went over to the forgotten boathouse, changed from her old violet dress to the ravontalaman outfit she had bought at Odds and Ends in fall, and taken her boat out on the canals. Because it was her boat now, the previous unknown owner gone… she sent a thought to the boatman and his death, and afterwards the cold journey in the dark, industrial backroutes after dark, Nolan Parnell an unconscious cargo in the boat. But this had happened around one season ago and she pushed the memories aside and thought of happier things. The weather was good, as usual, a little cold in the air since it was late in fall, but not unpleasantly cold. It was always so good in Ravok, the weather…not like she had heard that it could be outside the city. But there had sometimes been rain and storms at the Lakeshore in fall. Amolina had felt some of it on the days she had been at work as volunteer at KRI. She passed by the shipyards and watched and observed the ongoing work there, listened to the general noise and to the crafters shouts. The air had smelled of tar and other things they used on the boats and despite her unglamorous attire a few laborers had called out to her, undecent things she had pretended to not hear. From the shipyards she had turned the boat and continued deeper into the city. It was beautiful around her, and this day when she had absolutely nothing she must do she had time to observe the surroundings in a more awake and alert way than she used to do. You know how it is, you tend to stop looking at places you see every day, but now Amolina looked at Ravok like the city was new to her… the sunlight glittered in the water of the canals where she moved her boat on between the multicolored houses on the platforms. Her next stop was a popular place for fishing. There she took the fishing pole she had brought from the boathouse…but oh…ah… she had forgotten to bring bait ! There went her fishing plans. The first attempt to fish on the canals had been a complete failure. Annoyed at herself for acting like an absolute beginner she put the fishing pole away again. She would try again later on if she could find suitable bait along the way. Otherwise it would need to be next time she had time to drift around like this. Instead she would just hang around for a while and observed everything in sight. The canals here were somewhat broader, and there were many boats. People and goods were transported in a never-ending row of ravonsalas of different sizes and standards. There was a constant low thudding sounds when all the boatmen pushed at the platforms with their poles in order to move the boats on. She saw working people in practical clothes, and wealthier people in more fashionable wear, the occasional soldier in Ebonstryfe uniform and a few kelvics, somewhat daft looking…there were actually quite many stryfers around. Amolina steered the boat closer to a group of people at a ravontala stop and to her surprise she heard the speak about ta riot that had been quenched quickly. She moved the boat in under a big bridge. The sunlight disappeared and shadows enclosed her where she travelled on the now dark water.

[Rheon Blueheart]

The members of the Rising Dawn had finally been executed 4 days ago, and this was the response. Rheon hardly expected such open retaliation in Ravok due to the large influence of the factions of Rhysol, yet here they were. Rheon felt sorry for the Rising Dawn because he thought they were idiots, but he did not wish to join for he knew he had to ultimately take care of himself, and now was the perfect opportunity to “take care” of himself . He was out orginally running errands for someone, but he had an opportunity to earn extra money. Riots were what every thief should dream for. Blinded by their cause and chants it would be difficult to notice people snatching your money with everyone rioting together like that, so who was Rheon to pass this opportunity. He integrated himself into the crowd as they continued their rioting. Rheon knew exactly how this would end so he had to be quick about things. He made subtle movements within the crowd. Throwing out an occasional chant so he would look like everyone else. All the while he was taking money from people. “Heh heh, suckers.” Rheon whispered to himself. Just as he said that, one of the people rioting caught wind of what Rheon was doing. “Hey! That thieving scoundrel just took some of my money!” The furious protester said pointed at Rheon. “Crap, I’ve been had.” Rheon said out loud with a grin. The people in the vicinity began closing in while Rheon drew his 3 Cutlasses, two in each hand and one in his mouth, “Can’t we talk about this?” He said with a smile. It seemed this was just going to be one of those days that just don’t go your way when he noticed someone with the Stryfe uniform, and then saw another one. A riot against Rhysol, and two Ebonystryfe; this looked like trouble. “Uh guys, I hate to rain on your parade but the Ebonstryfe are here.” Rheon said softly as he pointed one of his blades towards the area he saw them. “Don’t try to lie your way out of this son. I don’t take kindly to thieves.” The man uttered clenching his fists. Just then screams could be heard coming from the front of the crowd. The Ebonstryfe began to act and the faces of the rioters changed from anger to looks of horror. Rheon looked at the scene unfolding and decided he should probably make himself scarce. He was not really comfortable with the Ebonstryfe as he had an unpleasant experience the first time he met one and being here really did not help his case although he was not part of the protests. “I tried to tell you. Jeez, why do people never listen to me?” Rheon left in the opposite direction of the commotion. Some members of the riot ran trying to escape the Stryfe, some ran trying to catch Rheon. Most of the people chasing him seemed to be commoners who had never lived on the streets, so Rheon wasn’t really afraid of getting caught. He added the finishing touches to his escape by yelling out, “The rising Dawn deserved executions, do not betray Rhysol you heathens!” Whether he truly believed that or not was a different story; however, it did bring some unwanted attention to the mob that was after him. As the citizens by nature took attention to what was said the mob dispersed amongst each other and seemed to forget about Rheon. Besides they had to worry about the Ebonstryfe. Rheon wished them good luck In spirit for he saw firsthand what they could do. He looked on from the security of a dark alley way as he checked to see what he had stolen, but when he looked all that was there was disappointment. Although he had dug through many pockets he only took two total pouches of money. The pouches had little value within as well. “I swore I did better than that…oh well.”He began to leave the security of the dark alley when things seemed to die down a bit and return to his owner er boss. Yeah boss sounds better. He then looked around as he decided it would be best to stay out of site. He decided to jump down and hide under a bridge. He wanted to wait until the dogs known as the Ebonstryfe went back on their leash. Thanks to the rising dawn everyone seemed to be on edge. That is when he saw what looked like a Ravasalaman only it was a Ravasalawomen rowing across the canal through the bridge. This was perfect. She was rowing and Rheon was lazy. For Laviku’s sake he was under a bridge. He waved to get her attention. “Psst. Hey you. Hey I’m talkin to you lady. I need a ride like now. He waved so much he accidently lost his balance and fell into the canal. If there is Rheon there is trouble.

[Amolina]

The sudden, unexpected call from the darkness under the bridge, the wildly waving stranger and the splash when he fell into the canal…for a moment Amolina was stunned, simply stunned. She stood completely still, and the ravonsala stopped when she stopped pushing at the platforms with the pole to move it forward. The unknown man splashed in the water. Looking at him she recalled how the dying boatman had fallen into the water during her escape with Parnell in the industrial backroutes of The Docks early in fall 513 AV. The memory came back to her with full power. The way the man had fallen on the weapon she was holding in her hands - the cane with the dagger - the gurgling sounds he had made when it cut into his stomach, how he had torn himself off of the weapon just to make the blood gush out, then stumbled overboard and floated on the water, twitching, face down, for a chime or two before he went still. And she had just left him there, and brought the unconscious poisoner with her in the boat and fled. Picking up a stranger that had come out of nowhere wasn’t a good idea and if he had just called to her and tried to make her come to him, she would have pushed the boat on as fast as she was able in order to get out on the other side of the bridge without being assaulted. He could be any kind of dangerous individual. Perhaps involved in the riots the rumors told about, as he was hidning under a bridge this way. But the sudden similarity to the nightmarish events in early fall changed it all. She couldn’t repeat the nightmare, she couldn’t once again bring herself to just leave. What if he wasn’t able to swim well ? Then it was possible that he wouldn’t make it out to a place where it was easier to get back up on a platform. And nobody would hear him scream for help under a bridge…or if they heard it chances were people would ignore it. It was dangerous times in the city. If they heard a scream for help, would people really dare to go there to investigate what it was about? Hardly. Amolina fastened the pole at the side of the boat so she wouldn’t lose it. Then she took the fishing pole and held it out so the man in the water could grab it and use it to save himself. She was so not going to take the risk of reaching out with a hand…the way he behaved she found it fully possible that he would just panic and pull her down into the canal too. She could live without that… Pick him up and drop him off. Get rid of him as soon as they were out on the other side. One man down and dead, another one up and alive. Did one man’s life make up for another man’s death? Could you count it that way, a life for a death - was there even a guilt to be paid, when she had acted in self defense, and hardly even that? Wasn’t it just fate…if fate existed? If the man managed to use the fishing pole to draw himself to her boat and climb in she would grab the ravonsala pole again…it wasn’t the original heavy pole the dead boatman had attacked her and Parnell with. This pole was lighter, as Amolina wasn’t really strong enough to use a real ravonsala pole. After the escape in the backroutes she had been totally spent. This lighter, weaker pole wasn’t made for high speed pushing at the platforms, but it was good enough for her slow journeys in the city. And it could also serve as a somewhat clumsy weapon. She had learnt from the dead boatman that a pole could be used for more things than just pushing the boat on.

[Rheon Blueheart]

Rheon was surprised by his own imbalance as he found himself floating in the canals yet again. He wondered if the lady saw him, yet he contrastingly hoped she did not see him since he was deeply embarrassed by his accidental plunge. He was also concerned with the Stryfe. Did they hear the splash? Would they come to check? Would they assume he was part of the riot? Seeing that he was still alive asking these questions he assumed all was well for now, excluding swimming for survival in the canal. As the mysterious woman approached he couldn’t help but remember his first encounter with the Stryfe. He would have gotten away if it weren’t for the Ravosalaman who had clubbed him in the head. Now he is just some woman’s slave, and perhaps this was better than being dead, but to be honest it really sucked. Due to the events that night, Rheon interacted with all Ravokians with caution, and this one was no exception. When she held out the fishing pole Rheon almost flinched for fear of being clubbed…again; however, this time it was different. This time someone was helping him. Rheon began to think that maybe there were some kindhearted Ravokians after all. After a unsuccessful attempt Rheon grabbed the fishing pole and began to make his way into the boat. He finally stumbled into the boat making it rock a little before he finally got settled. Of course these were the wrong days to get wet with the slightly chilled air and all, and of course Rheon would be wet as he always seemed to find misfortune. Although this was a canal and a small boat, this reminded him of his sailing days with Captain Bullocks when they ventured to Avanthal. He pushed out the nostalgia, for he did not like to reminisce of past endeavors, but rather he wanted to move forward and focus on the here and now. “Phew, Thank gods for you. You got me out of a bind over there. I really owe ya one.” He looked around nervously and attentively as he spoke, searching for any suspicious figures that might have be lurking in wait for the perfect chance to pounce; however, Rheon could not see anyone. He made an involuntary sigh of relief as he looked upon his rescuer who seemed to be drifiting in her own little world; this made Rheon a bit nervous about what she could be thinking. These were indeed dangerous times and he had almost forgotten that to be complacent was to be the victim. If worse came to worse Rheon decided he would just have to jump into the water again. “Perfect day to be on the canals eh?” Rheon said with obvious sarcasm as he pointed upwards to signify all of the Stryfe that were out and about. This was indeed not the best time to be roaming the city of Ravok, especially this area. There will always be some idiot who will ruin things for everyone else, and today that privilege belonged to the protestors. Although technically Rheon had dealt no transgressions to the Ebonystryfe this time; it was not a good feeling having a bunch of power hungry dogs watching your every move to maintain the “peace.” That’s when a sudden jolt of what Rheon thought was intelligence surged through his mind. As Rheon jokingly stated through sarcasm before, this was not the best time to be out and about. Could she actually be one of the Stryfe, could she be one of the members of the riot, could she be one of the people Rheon stole from and now she was plotting to rob and kill him. Could she really be just a ravosalaman and Rheon was just being paranoid. Rheon was not one to think to hard or else he would literally hurt himself. He eventually decided that even if she was part of that group of ruthless savages she couldn’t be too bad. He would just make sure not to bad mouth any factions while in her presence, besides how long would they have to deal with each other? Rheon was surprised by his own imbalance as he found himself floating in the canals yet again. He wondered if the lady saw him, yet he contrastingly hoped she did not see him since he was deeply embarrassed by his accidental plunge. He was also concerned with the Stryfe. Did they hear the splash? Would they come to check? Would they assume he was part of the riot? Seeing that he was still alive asking this questions he assumed all was well for now, excluding swimming for survival in the canal. As the mysterious woman approached he couldn’t help but remember his first encounter with the Stryfe. He would have gotten away if it weren’t for the Ravosalaman who had clubbed him in the head. Now he is just some woman’s slave, perhaps this was better than being dead. Due to the events that night, Rheon interacted with all Ravokians with caution, and this one was no exception. When she held out the fishing pole Rheon almost flinched for fear of being clubbed…again; however, this time it was different. This time someone was helping him. Rheon began to think that maybe there were some kindhearted Ravokians after all. After a unsuccessful attempt Rheon grabbed the fishing pole and began to make his way into the boat. He finally stumbled into the boat making it rock a little before he finally got settled. These were the wrong days to get wet with the slightly chilled air and all. Although this was a canal and a small boat, this reminded him of his sailing days with Captain Bullocks. He pushed out the nostalgia, for he did not like to reminisce of past endeavors, but rather move forward and focus on the here and now. “Phew, Thank gods for you. You got me out of a bind over there. I really owe ya one.” He looked around nervously and attentively as he spoke, searching for any suspicious figures that might have be lurking in wait for the perfect chance to pounce; however, Rheon could not see anyone. He made an involuntary sigh of relief as he looked upon his rescuer. These were indeed dangerous times and he had almost forgotten that to be complacent was to be the victim. The lady seemed to be within her own world which led Rheon to believe she could be plotting something. If worse came to worse Rheon decided he would just have to jump into the water again. “Perfect day to be on the canals eh?” Rheon said with obvious sarcasm as he pointed upwards to signify all of the Stryfe that were out and about. This was indeed not the best time to be roaming the city of Ravok, especially this area. There will always be some idiot who ruin things for everyone else, and today that privilege belonged to the protestors. Although technically Rheon had dealt no transgressions to the Ebonystryfe this time; it was not a good feeling having a bunch of power hungry dogs watching your every move to maintain the “peace.” That’s when a sudden jolt of what Rheon thought was intelligence surged through his mind. As Rheon jokingly stated through sarcasm before, this was not the best time to be out and about. Could she actually be one of the Stryfe? Could she be one of the members of the riot? Could she be one of the people Rheon stole from and now she was plotting to rob and kill him? Could she really be just a ravosalaman and Rheon was just being paranoid? Rheon was not one to think too hard or else he would literally hurt himself. He eventually decided that even if she was part of that group of ruthless savages she couldn’t be too bad; she rescued him after all. He would just make sure not to bad mouth any factions while in her presence, besides how long would they have to deal with each other?

[Amolina]

Now when the man was in the boat Amolina tried to see what he looked like, but it was hard. They were in the shadows under the bridge, and he was soaking wet. She heard a slightly foreign accent when he spoke though. It intrigued her. Being from Ravok she lived by the rule : what you don’t know can’t hurt you. So she wasn’t going to pry. Organized criminals had a way of leaving no witnesses behind, so it was best to not be a witness. Not that she knew if he was criminal or not, but he had to have done something, if he had to hide under a bridge. “Here” she said. Still holding the boat pole in one hand she unfastened her simple dark cloak and threw it to him. “It’s cold. Put it on.” They wouldn’t be able to stop at the usual ravonsala stops. The real ravonsalamen would notice and take action against it. And she could hardly just drop him off right in front of the patrolling stryfers. No. She was going to stealth with the boat, as well as it’s possible to stealth with a boat. Holding the pole with both hands now she started to push the boat on. It was an unpleasant feeling to have the stranger sitting there behind her back. This must have been how he had felt, that boatman whose death they had caused, driving the boat on, with her and Parnell behind his back. Well, he had perhaps not been scared of her. But he must have feared the poisoner and his weapons. The roles were reversed now. This time she was the one who had picked somebody up and didn’t know what was going to happen. She decided to be friendly and pretend to not understand that she could have put herself in a dangerous position - perhaps. It was best to be friendly. “I bet you want to go home at once and change to dry clothes” she said, acting like she cared and felt sorry for him, her voice compassionate. “Where do you live? I can drop you off nearby.” They came out at the other side of the bridge. Amolina glanced at the walkway on the platform to the right of the canal they were travelling on. An Ebonstryfe patrol there, not near yet, but walking this way … taking care to be not show any reaction and acting like she was just following a planned route, she slowly turned the boat left and entered a new canal. There were walkways on both sides of it and the houses they moved beween were typical merchant ring houses, not impressive, but looking well maintained. There were shops of course, and apartement floors above them, taverns, a few workshops, lots of commercial places, people, other boats. At the moment she and her passenger was blending in. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Where do you live?” she repeated.

[Rheon Blueheart]

Rheon received the coat graciously with a smile as he said "Thank you" in Fravata. He was beginning to feel much better about the situation. Would a Stryfe really give him a coat? Would a Stryfe really save him without much question? Every moment that he expected the mysterious woman to change her personality and pounce she merely surprised him with kindness. She did not seem to be volatile at all. He hated this about Ravok. The constant paranoia, the fear that everyoone was a potential enemy, assuming everyone is as evil as the next person, it was all new to Rheon having lived in a pod most of his life. He was looking in the water thinking of how to free himself from the city of Ravok when the woman commented on the status of his clothing and inferred he would want to return home. That might have been a plausible assumption, but for Rheon there was no home he wished to return. Rheon had recently become a slave and although it was not as bad as he thought; he could never get used to being shackled to someone. He had to do whatever the master said, and whatever the master wanted, and although he had no intention of leaving Ravok early, the abscense of freedom made his free spirit even more prevalent within him. He could hardly wait for the day he could be his own man, so he decided to tolerate this position for awhile, yet he will try to earn his freedom as fast as he could which was why he was “speeding” up the process through stealing. At the moment, however, he was broke, a slave to Ravok and the bee keeper, sitting in a boat wet while talking to the back of a woman who might add to his misfortune. This was the life he always dreamed of. To answer her question he involuntary sighed and similarly made an involuntary response while he took note of their passing of the Stryfe patrol. “This really is not that bad. I was born and raised on the Suvan Sea so these drenched clothes really are not a problem. To be quite honest I’d rather stay here, on the canals, all day then return to my supposed home. This is actually the closest thing to home.” Rheon laughed a bit as he finished his last sentence, realizing he just said that out loud. He didn’t think much of it as he continued to grin looking off into the sites of Ravok. That was a habit he had picked up when he was young. His family used to joke about how Rheon could never get angry or sad for too long, and that perhaps he was immune to all negative emotion. As he looked around and took in the view of the city around him. He felt he was in the clear but there was no way to answer the question “where do you live?” Where do I live, thought Rheon. If he wanted to be technical he would have said he lived with that bee keeper, but he did not want to go back just yet. Rheon continued to look off into the distance as he spoke, “Do you mind if I stay here a little longer?” He then spoke again as if it was already decided and looked back at the “Canal Woman, which is the unofficial name he had given her, and spoke to her in a manner to as if to get her to turn around. “My name is Rheon Blueheart. Thanks again for getting me out of trouble, Mrs.?” He held his hand out as a formality even though she wouldn’t see it. Rheon began to thnk of the other Ravokians he encountered. Why can’t they all be like this?

[Amolina]

Amolina glanced back over her shoulder to look at her passenger in disbelief, when he said he was used to leading a life that meant being completely soaked, outdoors, in winter. What a miserable life it must be to live on that sea he called the Suvan Sea! But she was also starting to find him somewhat interesting, because he wasn’t from Ravok, and this meant he was something of a rarity. “The Suvaaan Seea?” she said, pronouncing it with very ravokian accent and without hiding her interest. She was unable to resist the temptation to get to hear more about faraway places she had never visited. Amolina’s knowledge about other cities was limited to hearsay. She had never been outside Ravok, bar the Lakeshore. It was said that most other cities out there were full of ignorant, confused and pitiful people, worshipping false and worthless gods that didn’t provide properly for them but left them to live in misery and poverty. Those cities were also said to be in acute need of religious repentance. Bad places. But there were interesting stories about them too, terrible but tasty stories. To be honest, they had that special allure and fascination the bad, terrible and decadent things can have. A visitor found under a bridge under suspect circumstances, while the sryfe patrolled the city looking for instigators of a riot. She ought to turn him in at once. But they would ask for her papers if she did. She had her papers, she always had, but she would need to explain volumes about why she was on the canals in the first place … she didn’t want to do that. Besides, she was curious. It would perhaps not be so bad to keep him in the boat for a while. Perhaps he would tell her a few interesting stories. She spoke his name with a very ravokian accent when she said: “Ree-John Blue Heart”. Pause. “I’m Molly. Molly Malone.” Amolina had not really been prepared for this as she had planned to be alone in the boat … she had picked the name she gave him from one of all those popular plays she had audited for without getting the roles. “So you want to go sightseeing then” she said. She was turning into a new canal again, as she had seen yet another Ebonstryfe patrol come walking. “To the left you can see the slave market. “

[Rheon Blueheart]

When Amolina glanced back Rheon was almost taken aback by her appearance. She was actually beautiful. Her face had much dramatic flare; she almost seemed too beautiful if that was possible. Rheon almost felt ashamed of the images he imagined she would look like, but she was a ravonsalaman after all. He expected her to share the similar traits as the one he had come across; in fact, they all looked creepy to him, even more so than the ebonystryfe. Nearly immobilized by the emergence of her visage Rheon smiled again with a look of confusion when she asked about the Suvan Sea and try to pronounce his name. Her accent was heavy even compared to the other Ravokians, and he found this amusing. “Well Molly it’s nice to meet you. You got pretty close on the name, so don’t worry about. Just try to pronounce it Ree-un when said all together it may come out like Ree-yun.” Rheon then looked down at the water as to draw inspiration on the subject of the Suvan Sea. “The Suvan Sea…it’s a real interesting place. A ;arge body of water situatein the center of Mizahar. So many creatures, so much life, the sea itself is a spontaneous entity and the very meaning of adventure. I am part of the race known as the Sverfa, and our entire family known as a pod lives on a ship. The ship itself is built like a house on the inside, so it is comfortable as houses are on land. The only difference is we can go wherever we want to go. Some people do not have a good view of us but I think we are often misunderstood. Rheon gazed at the houses for a bit. He wondered how someone could be so sheltered? He knew Ravok was a ways off from the sea but a large entity like that should be well known. Just how landlocked exactly was Ravok? He assumed she must have been here her entire life to not know about the Suvan Sea. He wondered what else she didn’t know. He then returned to his description of life as a Sverfa, he spoke with enthusiam as he was proud of his background. In his opinion this was the best path of life. You’ve probably seen a few of the parties held here in Ravok, well imagine those parties aboard a gigantic ship with your loved ones. No enemies, no agendas, just everyone having a good time. The Sverfa parties are held for many occasions, and not just the special ones. In fact a part was held for me upon my arrival.” Rheon stopped a little before going on. He started to think of the family that rescued him and the family that was scattered across the world. In a burst of an excitement he quickly remembered something else important about the Sverfa he forgot tell the beautiful stranger. He took off his coat then rolled up his sleeve to show his Gnosis from Laviku. “A lot of the Sverfa are marked by the God Laviku. We are able to do some pretty cool things with it. The interesting part about this Gnosis is that it rolls around the body ending up at different places at different times. I actually owe my life to Laviku as I almost died as an infant but was rescued. I’m sure it was he who marked and saved me. This Gnosis can really aid us in our living of the sea because no matter where a Sverfa is, they will always be sailors at heart. For instance, even after I left my pod I joined a man named Captain Bullocks and man did we have some crazy times selling around Mizahar. I think we just can’t resist the freedom the sea offers.” He then realized he had to get out of this town sooner rather than later, but meeting Molly really did make this town a bit more bearable. All he would need was a lot of money. I mean A LOT OF MONEY. He tred to keep repeating this through his head to maek it sound more simple and realistic than it did the last time. He eventually decided it was no use trying to think of things out of your control. He shook his head to himself and answered Molly’s question with a smile. “Sightseeing eh…Sounds pretty fuuu-uwa-what the? I mean what is the place farther on down?” Rheon said trying to manipulate his words trying not to uncover his panic. He couldn’t believe she mentioned the slave market it was almost like SHE KNEW!? Calm down Rheon, he thought to himself, it was just a coincidence. Yea it was a coincidence. This was the last place he wanted to be as it did not actually bring fond memories. Of all the places on his "tourist trip" why did it have to involve that place? He couldn’t wait to get out of the area. For the first time since he’s been here he was not thinking of the Ebonystryfe.

[Amolina]

Amolina quite liked to listen to the descriptions of the life at sea in boats that were like floating houses. The parties seemed amazing too. Amolina hadn’t been to any grand parties in Ravok, she had only heard about the parties the Nitrozian’s and the other powerful families gave sometimes. But when Rheon started speaking about how he was marked by his foreign god she looked around warily. Good thing nobody could hear them. She could see a new Ebonstryfe patrol at a distance, coming their way, along one of the walkways on the sides of the canal. She stopped the boat under a bridge nearby. Silently she kept them still in the shadows, sort of stealthing there, listening to the sound of the stryfers' steps as they walked over the bridge. Looking at Rheon, the bridge's shadow falling over her face now, she said: "A good advice. Ravok isn’t kind to visitors who don’t follow our ways. Don't speak too freely and don’t do things that draws the wrong kind of attention to you. And don’t speak too openly about that mark. Rhysol is the god here. The only one." She paused a bit and listened. The stryfers had passed. She moved the boat a bit and stopped again right before they would return out into the sunlight that was glittering in the water in front of them. “As I said, just a good advice. If you don’t want to end up being sold as a slave. That has happened to many an incautious visitor in this city.” She looked him over. Rheon had donned her cloak and most of him was covered by it. His wet hair looked like plastered to his head. He was actually looking a bit bothered and nervous now, like he was worried … as he ought to be, when he was acting like he didn’t have the slightest idea about the risks he was encountering in Ravok. Still...he didn't look totally coved. There was something belligerent over the man. What had he been doing under that bridge where she had found him ? And though he didn’t say anything he seemed to understand that it was important to avoid the patrol and go on hiding silently when it was needed. So he couldn’t be totally unaware of how wise it was to be cautious. “What about me taking you to a tavern where you can get some warmth and perhaps buy a set of used clothes to shift into while the wet ones are drying ?” She was moving the boat on again, her back to him. “There’s a place named The Spot, not expensive, and they don’t ask lots of questions there you know…all sorts of people go there to apply for temporary jobs, advertised on the board there. If you’d need to earn some extra money.” The rugged way Rheon looked at the moment she took it for granted that he was a man in need of money, that seemed obvious.

[Rheon Blueheart]

As Rheon was blabbing off again he noticed that Molly’s expression had changed dramatically in a short period of time. He quickly stopped talking when they stopped under the bridge. She began to speak of Rhysol and scold him, but after awhile he involuntary tuned her out. He began thinking of Rhysol. This God of Ravok. This Rhysol fellow has come up in conversation again, and he still wasn’t sure about who he was exactly. What was Rhysol all about? Why did people love him so dearly that even the mention of other gods was forbidden.? Rheon heard that a few Sverfa had worshipped Rhysol but he never saw anything to this degree where it seemed death was warranted. Up until this point he has only heard him mentioned and never really explained. From the looks of things he seemed to not like other gods around. This Rhysol guy has been causing a lot of trouble since Rheon has been here, and it seemed like it would likely continue. He started listening to the lady again when she said something that struck him. “You don’t want to end up being sold as a slave.” Rheon began to laugh a little nervously. “Yeah, you don’t want to be sold as a slave here. Yep I definitely enjoy freedom.” Irony is really not funny at all. He had brief thoughts that maybe this lady was psychic. These stupid Stryfe, Rhysol, organizations…this was all too much too take in so he did what he did best. He decided to forget it all and restart his day and relax. The lady seemed to be entering deep in thought as the situation might have not been the most comfortable. After all Rheon did not want her to get into trouble on his account. The longer they were under the bridge the better he felt about the situation. It is probably safe. Molly spoke first and asked about him going to a tavern to get some clothes and let these dry. The Tavern seemed like a cool place to go but he had no money. He was in need of money, he was in need of clothes. Perhaps he’d just steal some but it was better than sitting here. He did not particularly like the looks of pity but he could not find fault with that because he himself would pity someone who looked as he had. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Sorry about earlier, but yeah just relax we’ll be fine.” Rheon tried to ease any tension remaining in the air as he got ready to get on the move. “Well you seem to know a lot about this place. Who is Rhysol exactly?”