The One Where Someone Gets Injured (Faradae)

[Sonya Arasini]

55th of Winter, 515AV "Stupid Zeltivans... Why can't they just come over to us so we can check them for swords?" Sonya thought grumpily to herself as she squeezed through a flock of children dressed every color of the rainbow chasing a very distressed stray cat. Every time a ship docked, somebody would get found with a blade. It was almost a ritual occurrence, and one that saw countless quality blades flowing into the Sharp Blade headquarters. In the past, the monks of Laat would round up the blades themselves and send them North in exchange for easy access to mercenaries that liked to live in the martial Quarter. Unfortunately, ever since their recent defeat at Laviku Avenue, the Easterners cut off most exchange with the order of the Sharp Blade and moved impressively slow in whatever deals they did make. This included outright ignoring contraband weapons, which meant Uphis monks had to enter Eastern territory and conduct searches themselves; Uphis monks like Sonya. Two other novices had offered to accompany her, but Sonya vehemently refused at the sight of concern on their faces. "What, like I can't handle myself alone?" she thought irritably as she waited for a brace of young men toting a pair of exceptionally long rugs under each arm to stop blocking the intersection. As usual, the Eastern Quarter was a firestorm of activity and people shouting unintelligible merchant-speak at each other. In an alley Sonya spotted an almost spherical woman with her hair in a messy bun was beating a pole-like man over the head with a broken frying pan while roaring something about warranties. The Easterners had an obsession with contracts that Sonya could never wrap her head around, and here she couldn't help but shake her head in confusion as she approached the docks, the smell of sea spray and wet marble filling her nostrils. Enormous men in sweat-soaked shirts swarmed the bustling port like ants, hauling crates on crates from ship to wagon to ship again in an endless cycle of trade. Scattered throughout the docks in stark contrast to the lime and yellow-clad workers with gleaming arms were brown monks of Laat barking orders, many with clip-boards. The Uphis monk took a deep breath and folded her arms in front of her chest as her pace quickened. "Just keep walking like you belong here, and they won't even notice you're there." she reassured herself, gaze fixed on the ground in front of her. From a distance, they all looked the same, so as long as she didn't attract too much attention they'd just mistake her for one of them, right? Maybe deciding to enter hostile territory with no backup wasn't the best decision she could've made... This thought process was abruptly halted by a collision with a fleshy body in hard fabric. "Oi! Watch where you're going!" barked the monk Sonya had strolled right into. "Shyke." Sonya muttered something resembling an apology and tried to push past the man, but an outstretched arm stopped her. "Hey, at least pay some attention when you crash into your- wait a chime..." Sonya sighed and turned to face the monk of Laat. He was a bald, gruff-looking man with a long scar cutting across his cheek and skin bronzed by exposure to the sun. He had black stubble and eyes just as dark which were squinting at Sonya's weapon. "Blade..." he muttered. "What's a monk of Uphis doing here?" he hissed. "Weapon inspection." Sonya shot back coolly. "You Easterners haven't been checking for contraband." "Maybe we haven't, maybe we have." the Laat monk jeered with a shrug as he stalked around her. "The docks are ours to manage as we please. You Northern monkeys don't like how we do our business, you can cry to Papa Uphis about it, and then you can go petch yourselves. Now, scram." "You want me to cave your face in?" Sonya growled through clenched teeth, eyes flashing angrily. "I didn't walk all this way through this spineless batshyke miser-ville to go back empty-handed." "What'd you say, ya butch brain-dead blade-licking bitch?" the monk snarled, face inches away from Sonya's, droplets of spittle pattering on her skin. She retorted by headbutting him. The monk reeled back, firing off a flurry of muffled curses as he clutched his nose. She tried to walk past him again, but was forced to bob away from a furious hook from the monk, who seemed determined to fight her with one hand. Sonya chuckled at the prospect with a smirk on her face and had barely raised her hands when she heard the clack of sandals behind her. Sonya's eyes widened in surprise before she was thrown forward by a massive impact to her back, the thump behind her telling the monk of Uphis that someone had just launched themselves feet-first into her. She quickly threw her arms up to shield her face at the sight of a fist flying towards her from the front, the monk hissing in pain as he hit hard steel. He quickly threw his arms around the disciple of Uphis, pinning hers between their chests, a livid grin on his face. Sonya struggled fruitlessly for a couple ticks, eliciting a laugh from the monk holding her before she frowned and kneed him right between the legs. His laughing instantly turned into an agonized wheeze as he sank to his knees, arms limp around Sonya's waist. She stepped back easily and chuckled briefly at her fallen adversary before turning around... Only to reel at another impact, this time to her chin. The world flashed white for an instant, and when Sonya's vision returned her mouth tasted like copper. There was another monk facing her, this one clean-shaven with a sharp face and a shock of blonde hair. Sonya narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at this new adversary, feet starting to shift into an aggressive stance when the world went turning again. The monk she thought she'd dropped had managed to hurl himself onto her legs and caused her knees to buckle. Sonya could do little more than cry out in shock and throw her hands out in front of her before hitting the cobblestones with a loud whump. She immediately curled her arms around her head to protect her head from the kicks that immediately followed as she fought to free her legs from the monk on top of them. Going into the Eastern Quarter alone was definitely one of her worst decisions. While she could hold her own in a duel, without help there wasn't much she could do against a coordinated pair. The situation was quickly going sour for Sonya, and unless circumstances changed she'd be hard pressed to do much other than eat more kicks and stomps.

[Faradae]

Faradae It had only been a handful of days since Faradae had completed her journey from Syliras back to Nyka, but already was she taking to what little habits she had developed in the seven days spent in the City of Celestials prior to her first grand adventure. One of those habits was a certain affinity to the docks, a place that reminded her of her father, helped her let her soul stray and had also lead to more than one interesting acquaintance in very little time. As she strolled down the alley that led to the sea, the usual buzz of vocal commands and busy fussing engulfed her and she let the erratic stream of people carry her down to the harbour, where the smell of fish and salt added itself to the general picture. The day seemed bright, the sun almost breaking through the blanket of clouds, but it felt even colder than the dull, sunless ones, and Faradae could feel winter’s grasp crawl into her clothes despite the absence of wind. Most citizens of Nyka chose to disregard the temperature and hailed the light instead, they took long walks, parading their full palette of fashion around their respective Quarters. The workers at the docks seemed annoyed enough, they usually didn’t have to shoo civilians away from their workspace during the cold time of the year. Faradae felt lucky her set of clothes was of unremarkable colours, brown and beige, and she would not face any trouble lurking around her favourite part of Nyka. A fortune not everyone shared. A small crowd of cheerful dresses had gathered to watch a spectacle taking place near the water. Usually, not many dared stand and watch, for mingling with the monks and getting roped into their hostilities never proved to be a healthy course of action. This time, however, people deemed themselves on the safe side. As she drew closer to find the commotion’s source, Faradae heard several cheers, intertwining with small, almost inaudible whispers. “Let her feel Laat’s wrath!” “Nice blow! Do it again!” “…the poor girl…” “Teach her the rules of our territory! Drive her back to her own filth-hole!” “Are they going to kill her?” It was the last question, asked in a hushed whisper and directed at no one on specific that switched a lever for Faradae and sent her hurtling into action. It wasn’t so much of a planned mission as it was a rash decision, that she could not leave a helpless woman on the ground, to die by the hands of the monks she despised so. She could see her now – a tight ball on the ground, hands protectively curled over her head, clothes ragged from the assault, and stained by the dirt of the docks. She wore a monk’s robe, herself, but she was not one of the monks that patrolled the Eastern Quarter, those who had assailed Imass and Faradae so willingly when they first met. Maybe she was better than them, less despicable. Right now, she was in a worse situation than Fara, a stranger herself, but less hated. Faradae lunged forward into the crowd, pushing bewildered onlookers aside as she did. She shed her dress as she went, and it was not quite past her arms when she shifted, tearing its left side to pieces in the process. A buzzard spread its wings amidst the marvelling crowd that had gathered at the harbour, and those who had been standing close would later swear they saw a woman in its place just a split tick earlier. Faradae tossed all precautions aside and let instinct take over as she attacked. She had never attempted to fight, neither in her true form nor in her human one, but she figured those talons and beak should be good for something else than clutching letters. She went for the one closer to the beaten woman’s head, who had raised his boot to land a solid kick to the lady’s temple. She wasn’t high enough to gain speed in a well-aimed dive, and her wingspan was restricted by the people to the left and right, who, despite stumbling aside hurriedly, still were in her way. It was more the element of surprise that abruptly ended the monks attack than it was her own strike. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the bird of prey heading his way on direct collision course. He tried to stumble aside, tripped over the woman on the ground and landed squarely across her legs, his arms flailing uselessly in an attempt to regain control. The sound he made when his head hit the pavement did not sound healthy. His friend cursed, muttered something unseemly about the fellow monk’s clumsiness and hardly gave Faradae a moment to revel in her triumph before charging. He approached the baffled eagle with outstretched arms, and her hasty attempt to flutter upwards proved fruitless. She simply was too slow, he caught her without much trouble, and beyond tearing his tunic with sharpened talons, there was little she could do to harm him. As he pulled her back down with some effort, pressing her wings against her body in a painful angle, she hacked at his face with her beak, adding two ugly cuts to his already scar-branded visage before he reacted and turned his face away. For the moment, she was out of competition.

[Sonya Arasini]

"Great. Spectators." Sonya thought irritably as her bracers absorbed another kick for her. She briefly wondered if the monk wailing on her would wise up and try somewhere else or just get bored. If she could just steal a moment to reach for her axe... "Huh. He stopped." the Uphis monk realized amidst shouts of surprise and a colorful chain of swears from above. A tick later she felt the man trip over her own body and the injured monk get off her legs to chase something. Sonya didn't question what caused them to forget about her as she snapped to her feet and glanced at the scratched-up monk pushing himself to his hands and knees. She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe before delivering a vicious kick to the back of his head that sprawled him out on the ground again. So much for him. "And the other?" Sonya spotted him a couple yards away, apparently trying to strangle something small and brown. Odd, but she'd happily take the change for payback. The monk who held onto Faradae wasn't in the best shape: punch-dazed, bloodied nose and face, trying to hold onto a very energetic eagle, and didn't notice the furious woman approaching him from behind until he felt a tap on his shoulder. There was a tick where he realized what just happened and who was waiting for him where his expression mirrored one worn by someone who'd just seen an angry ghost wielding a block of kitchen knives, followed immediately by one of agony and a touch of acceptance as Sonya's fist slammed into the middle of his back where his diaphragm was located. The monk coughed violently as the air rushed out of his lungs and he sank to a kneeling position. A steel-shod kick to his head ended the fight. Sonya, seeing the air still again, took this moment to spit out the blood pooling in her mouth with a grimace. The crowd, seeing the target of their ridicule up and very much not-killed, started to slowly scatter before someone said something stupid and got axed. It was at this point that Sonya, leaning over the defeated monk to gloat, caught sight of what he was trying to strangle and just had to frown in confusion. "Eagle? Is this supposed to be an omen or something?" After a couple ticks of staring, she shrugged and tried to pick it up.

[Faradae]

Faradae A jolt went through Faradae’s captor’s entire body as something hard hit him in the back. She could feel his grip tightening spasmodically around the delicate bones of her wings, and the pain surging through her extremities told her that some of the were about to snap. She let out a screech and wriggled like wild, trying to escape his iron grip, yet her efforts were in vain. Just a moment later, the man started coughing violently, and saliva and blood exited his mouth to cover her plumage in unsavoury stains. He tumbled forward, to his knees, and took another hit to the head that finally drained him of consciousness. His hold on the buzzard finally loosened, and she fluttered aside just in time to avoid being crushed by the weight of his limb body. The bird, feeling a little suffocated, caught her breath and slowly extended and retracted her wings to check for damage and regain her senses. Although she was sure she would find herself covered in bruises the next day and she was worn out from what had been the first brawl of her life, it felt like she would be spared the long-time aftermath of serious injury. She was still crouched on the ground, unable to gather herself enough to flee the scene of crime, when a shadow appeared above her head. The shadow quickly turned into the confused face of a woman, battle-worn and bloodied, and two hardened hands. Faradae did not resist being picked up, even though she was not particularly fond if it, either. Instead, she cooed at Sonya, a sound that was supposed to be a greeting as well as a ‘you’re welcome’. It was a shame her avian vocal chords were incapable of forming human sounds. She stared at Sonya with black buzzard eyes that had a very un-birdish glint of intelligence, and tipped her head slightly to one side as if to say ‘What are you waiting for? Get us away from here.’

[Sonya Arasini]

While Sonya was fairly used to the bizarre given her home and profession, she didn't exactly have much experience interacting with helpful birds, and it showed in the awkward way she held Faradae at eye level like a loaf of bread (or somebody else's baby) and the lost expression on her face as she attempted to think of what one does with an apparently intelligent buzzard. "Hi, Miss Eagle." she said slowly after a tick, trying not to think of how silly that sounded. "Thank you for clawing that man in the face. It was very helpful. I don't know how long I could've kept taking hits." At the mention of blows she frowned at the sleeve of her robe, which had frayed slightly in patches to reveal the dull grey wire within. Faradae's head tip had some of the desired effect, in the sense that it got Sonya to look around her again. While no one had ran and gone for help, likely because of the eagle from the Gods that had appeared, there were still monks of Laat all over the docks and it was only a matter of time before they noticed their unconscious comrades out in the open. While it stung to leave without finishing her business in the Eastern Quarter, Sonya doubted she would be allowed to conduct it at the current time anyway, given the circumstances. With that in mind, the Uphis monk started backing away from the scene of the fight, eyeing the other servants of Laat nervously as she did so; Sonya somehow doubted another bird would come bail her out. Once she was close enough to the streets to vanish into them, the monk broke out into a run, still carrying Faradae like a stolen chicken. The bustling crowd parted for her with remarkable speed, many looking back to see what a monk could be fleeing from and a few shaking their heads and slipping back into their homes. After about three chimes of running, Sonya spotted an alley relatively sheltered from the public eye. The Azenth slowed her pace to a brisk walk as she slid out of the street and into the secluded space. There were a couple slightly faded murals of clouds made of coins on the walls, and several sets of clothes which lay drying on lines stretching between houses obscured the street somewhat. For anyone wishing to stay unnoticed for a while, it was perfect. Sonya smiled tiredly as she leaned against a wall and let herself slide into a sitting position. Mercifully, outside of her pride and a nagging ache in her jaw, nothing seemed to be terribly hurt. She sighed and closed her eyes as she combed her hair back... At which point they snapped right back open again when she realized she wasn't holding the bird.

[Faradae]

Faradae Faradae blinked when Sonya spoke to her. Once, twice. She spoke slowly, like Faradae was a child, a foreigner, or simply lacking the intellect to understand her properly. She almost found it to be insulting, until she remembered the fact that the monk of Uphis was probably not aware of her Kelvic nature. She probably thought her to be an aggressive bird in a weird setting that was miraculously attracted to herself. Had she been in human form, she’d have giggled at the notion. Instead, she chirped humouredly and hoped that the monk interpreted it as an acknowledgement of the thanks she had been given, rather than a joke on her cost. She fell silent rather abruptly when Sonya clutched her like a handbag and started to run. Faradae hardly had time to voice her protest, let alone escaping the woman’s grip. She glared back at the baffled crowd they passed with a look of helpless resentment and held still to avoid being squished or dropped as Sonya made her escape. In a narrow alleyway in the heart of the quarter, resembling someone’s backyard rather than an actual street, they finally came to a stop. The place was a little shabby, the walls peeling, the shacks run-down, but still clean enough for people to live there in relatively sanitary circumstance, as proven by the laundry drying on lines sagging from the wet clothes’ weight. The monk dropped against a wall, losing hold of the shaken buzzard quite suddenly. There was a crooked squawk from Fara, then a dull sound when she flopped to the ground. The monk who had carried her did not seem to notice, she was too busy catching her own breath and bathing in the glory of still being alive and able to run. The bird hopped to her feet and awkwardly waddled behind a stack of crates filled with various junk. Her body was clearly made for elegant flying rather than walking. Sonya payed her no attention and she used the chance to shift while avoiding the awkwardness of being naked in public. She snatched a set of undergarments and a dress from one of the low-hanging washing-lines and swiftly slipped into the clothes without even a remote feeling of guilt. If people left their clothes in the street, unguarded, they practically invited thieves. And she really needed something to wear right now. The underwear was about her size, but the dress was slightly baggy in certain areas, remotely evocative of a fancy burgundy-coloured jute bag around her slender form. She deemed herself presentable enough to step back into sight of the monk, who was running long fingers through her hair, then stopping mid-movement. Her eyes opened suddenly. Faradae ignored the awkwardness of the situation and stepped in front of her. “I’m the bird,” she said simply. “The name’s Faradae.” She extended her hand in greeting. “You’re welcome.”

[Sonya Arasini]

For a full three ticks Sonya sat motionless, mouth agape at the bird who was a girl who was a bird. As if in a dream the monk's hand met Faradae's and shook it limply, her expression still unchanged. "Sonya... You were a bird." she said dumbly. "And now you're not a bird. You're a girl. Bird girl. Girl bird?" After another moment of shock, Sonya shook her head like a horse fending off flies and stood, her tone regaining some of its fire. "That's neat, I guess, even if I had that fight in the bag. Where'd you get that power? Was the Knocker kind to you once? Curse by a beak-nosed wizard? You aren't one who dabbled in eagle powers and paid the price, are you?" she added with narrowing eyes. "Anyways... Where do you live? You're not an Eastie, are you?" She asked the question somewhat pointedly, but Sonya's intent wasn't necessarily hostile. If Faradae lived in the East and someone got a good look at her face before her little intervention, she could become a target if just left on her own. At any rate... "C'mon. Let's get you home. I owe you that much." OOCIt feels like something's missing here... What is it... D'oh well. Hope it's good.

[Faradae]

Faradae A small, satisfactory smile spread over Faradae’s face as she witnessed Sonya’s utter confusion. This was fun. She loved to surprise people, especially if it meant some action and possibly saving a life. She generously overheard Sonya’s comment about having the fight under control. A warrior needed to be granted some honour. She listened to the other woman making assumptions about her nature while she fiddled with her cloak, absent-mindedly checking for the first signs of bruises to appear where she had hit the ground earlier. She found a few shallow scratches and her elbow hurt when she touched it. She expected to pay the real price the next morning. She looked up when Sonya mentioned the knocker. Was this a Nykan saying she did not know? And if so, why did she not know it? Maybe it was a Northern Quarter thing. She decided not to ask about it, as Sonya was still busy talking. Instead, she willowed down her sleeve again, sheltering her skin from the cold. She did seem to be serious about ‘Eagle Powers’ though, telling from the change her expression underwent when she talked about them. “What are eagle powers?”, Faradae blurted when Sonya took a break to recover from her own flood of words. But Sonya had not been finished yet. Faradae pondered her last question for a moment. Had she been asked to choose a quarter of Nyka to move into, it would have been the Eastern Quarter. It was the place where she had met most people, and, more importantly, had felt most comfortable during her short stay in the city. The Western Quarter was a close second, she liked the creative air it had, but the Eastern Quarter had the docks, the sea, and freedom. She valued that above anything else the city had to offer, over the food and crowds of the Southern Quarter during lunch hours, over the majestic buildings and boulevards of the Celestial Square and definitely over the clanking sounds of hammer and anvil in the Northern part of Nyka. “No, I’m not from the Eastern Quarters,” she finally replied, looking at her toes, the tips of which she invisibly wiggled inside her boots. When she realized she was acting nervous, she looked back up. “I don’t really have a home at the moment. I’m from the farmlands, but I left. Can’t I walk you home instead? You’re from the Northern Quarter. You could show me around.”

[Sonya Arasini]

oocOh god this took way too long. D: Hopefully the post is good though! Sonya blinked at the inquiry. "You turned into an eagle, but you're a person." she said with the tone of someone being forced to explain that water is wet. "That's not normal. You have special powers. Eagle powers. Where'd you get them?" Upon hearing Faradae was a runaway, the monk pursed her lips, though her eyes took on a warm wistfulness. She could sympathize with someone who had nowhere to go and no one they belonged to. Unconsciously, the Azenth brushed her fingers against her collar, where her iridescent mark could just barely be seen peeking out from the brown fabric of her robes. "A stray, huh? I've been there. What made you run away?" While she listened to whatever answer Faradae gave, Sonya stood and grabbed at the Kelvic's hand before setting off with Faradae in tow, cutting a sure path Northward through the winding alleys and bustling thoroughfares of Nyka, the technicolor crowds parting for the still irritable-looking monk. "So what do you do, Faradae? I imagine mauling people with your claws isn't your main profession." A few chimes after that and other small talk like how her parents were, Faradae would notice a distinct change in atmosphere. The hagglers and merchants largely gave way to laborers hauling wood and steel, shirtless young men wrestling and the occasional drunk meandering in their typical zigzag pattern. A pair of monks on the beat waved at the pair and greeted Sonya by name, breaking off from their route to trot over and take a look at the duo. Unlike the hostile circling of the Eastern monk, it was obvious that these two (a slightly aging dark woman and a burly young man with matted black hair) were mostly interested in dirt and jest. "Who's your friend, eh?" prodded the female monk. "C'mon, isn't it obvious?" muttered the male. "We always did suspect she was of that inclination..." "Sheesh, Sonya what happened to your face?" Sonya listened to this with an a look of bemusement so great it was almost impressive. "Got in a fight with some Easties. This girl helped me out. Said she was homeless." "Really now? How's she lasted so long?" inquired the dark-skinned monk with a slight pursing of her lips. Sonya shrugged. "She has eagle powers. She probably just flies off or claws whatever gets in her way." Both monks nodded in silent approval at this. After a tick of quiet, the male monk decided to state the obvious. "You uh... Know you can't keep her, right?" "Well aware." Sonya quipped back. "She wanted me to show her around." "We need to take her to the Sharp Tongue, then!" he chirped, "Or rather, you do, Sonya." "What's the matter?" the Azenth asked with a faint smile, "Afraid we'll find out you're a lightweight?" "Naw, we just have shyke to do! We'll see you around." And with that they took off, leaving the duo alone again. Sonya glanced over at the Kelvic, resisting the urge to giggle as she said "That might not be the worst idea. How about it? Do you drink?"

[Faradae]

Faradae Fara stifled a laugh when she heard Sonya’s attempt to understand what she had seen, but failing to wrap her mind around it. “Don’t worry, no eagle powers,” she let her know, waving her hand in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. “Born this way, actually. I’m Kelvic. I get to be both an eagle and a human. And before you ask how exactly that works – I can’t explain.” She took the hand Sonya offered her and followed the woman out of the backyard. Some people on the streets stared at them, and it was hard to tell if their judging eyes were fixated on Sonya’s bruises or Faradae’s apparent lack of fashion sense. “I didn’t technically run away… My family knows I’m here.” She had been about to say ‘parents’, but she wanted to avoid inconvenient questions concerning her admittedly very young age. Instead, she fell silent for a moment while trying to recognize the lane they were crossing. To no avail. The quarter she had grown accustomed to was vanishing behind their backs, and she had a feeling that she wouldn’t find much happiness there any longer, now that she had defied the authorities. “I just wanted to see the world. What use it is to be a bird when you live in the limited cage of a couple acres of farmland?” She shook her head. “I had no plans at first, but I ran into a small adventure and now I believe I’ve found a suitable occupation. I’ll become a courier, get to know Nyka and other cities while delivering people’s messages. You know, bring a parcel here, drop a message there. Charge extra for anonymous love letters. But the real thing are the travels between cities” – and here she began to rumble – “See the light of the sun rising over the marshes, view the horizon and beyond. Count all the stars of the sky over Lhavit and sail overseas to the furthest islands. That’s my dream.” She failed to mention all the dangers along the way, conveniently pushing them off her mind. “Well, I’ve only been to Syliras this season,” she added, sounding a little sheepish, “but that’s something, isn’t it?” She dared not speak up in front of the two monks that stopped to talk to Sonya, but from what they said, she gathered that they were Sonya’s friends and safe to be around, at least in the young woman’s company. Still, her aversion against the clerics sat too deep for her to just let go of. Sonya was the rare exception, thanks to the beating they’d taken together, more or less. Still, she almost visibly perked her ears when she heard of the Sharp Tongue. She hadn’t heard of it, but the name sounded promising. “Um…,” she mouthed ineloquently, trying to answer Sonya’s question, “I haven’t drunk before, but I’m willing to try.” The last bit sounded a little firmer, like she’d just made up her mind. She’d peaked into taverns before, but had been a bit too shy to settle down in the unknown environment and actually order anything. She followed Sonya down the roads of the Northern District, her steps now even faster than before. The monk obviously knew this part of the city like the back of her hand, moving with the natural swiftness and urgency of someone who was both busy and used to people stepping out of her way. But it wasn’t the hustle of the street that took her break away, but the bustle of the Sharp Tongue reaching her ear before she even touched the doorknob of the heavy oak door that served as the pub’s entrance. Even at this time of the day, the waiters were busy enough serving beer to the more insistent patrons, citizens discussing business over a friendly jug, while the barkeeper was precariously leaned over the weighty gem of the establishment, a counter of solid wood, ensnared into a heated riddle-discussion with a sodden-looking guest. Faradae stooped at the doorstep for a moment to take it all in, leaving it to Sonya to find them a spot to get seated.