Completed Company Sin (Konrad)

[Sloane]

62nd of Winter, 516 AV

Sloane's day was pretty much over. She'd rolled from her tent as the sun had risen, only staying long enough for Whayhana to help her comb her hair and teach her a few new words in Pavi. She'd left as soon as the men had begun to emerge from their tents, not at all eager to have their heavy, assessing gazes focused on her. Like most days, she left her horse with the pavilion, making her way instead by foot, and so almost a whole bell had passed before she'd arrived at the Duskstep Pavilion. She liked it there; the Drykas she worked with left her to do her job without hovering or constantly checking up on her, and she got to do what she was passionate about for fair pay. Granted, she'd originally left Sylira's with the intent to start her own business, but with her current circumstances, Sloane figured what she had was as good as it was going to get.

She was tired. Dark smudges marked the skin under her eye's, and even her usually wild mane appeared limper than usual. She'd been having trouble sleeping, her mind plagued by nightmares of Zith and violent horselords. Sloane pushed herself to her feet, brushing wood shavings and feathers off of her clothes, and bent to gather the tools she'd been using. Crafting dozens upon dozens of arrows had certainly not helped in waking her up, and the young woman moved slowly as she put them away, well and truly bored.

Picking up the newly made arrows, Sloane carried them over to a work bench, retrieving her hand shears as she went along. She'd already shaped the fletching, but she hadn't gotten the chance to check them thoroughly, to ensure each and every one had the same shape and length. Sitting, Sloane pulled the first arrow towards her, leaning close as she trimmed the vane, ensuring that every barb was even and not a single fleck of downy feather was left. Each subsequent arrow was compared to the first, until Sloane had a pile of arrows with neat, uniform goose-feather fletching.

The finished arrows went into a bucket inside the business' tent, fletching end up to await customers, and show off her pristine work. Cobb, her employer, sat inside, fitting a bow string to a newly made recurve bow. "Done." She called to him, pushing her curls from her face and yawning. "Going soon." Cobb nodded, concentration kept to his bow, and Sloane made her way over to the water bucket at the back of the tent to splash her face and wash her hands. She sighed happily, enjoying the cooling sensation, and took a moment to stretch out her back and neck, arching and twisting from side to side.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad thought it fitting that the two men who'd taught him how to jerk meat had been Drykas. He never learned their names, they were just "Elder" and "Younger" to him. Outcasts and sellswords, forbidden from ever returning to their people and yet they seemed oddly untroubled by that. Maybe the mercenary life agreed with them more.

Any road, they were good for a few lessons.

"Looks ready to me."

Sedon had been fluttering around him all morning like an overweight hummingbird. From his crouch in front of the fire and the frames, Konrad spared him a glance but little more. He wanted to get this right. He squinted as the wind changed and the last of the smoke wafted into his face instead of straight up.

Not that it mattered. All morning it had been curling and caressing the strips of coyote meat hanging from the simple wooden frame above it. For bells Konrad had been hovering, anxious as an expectant father, not taking his eyes off his first big attempt to really provide.

The frame? Twigs and branches lashed together with twine, standing like a crooked bivouac above the-

Fire? Moss and dry grass, lots of smoke but not too much heat, just like the Elder had told him. That way the-

Meat? Ah, that was where Sedon had come in, and Konrad had learned another little secret about the Drykas: riding and shooting and hunting, all fine things, but what really sustained them?

Salt. The secret currency of the Horse Lords. That which allowed them to take a fresh kill and make it last days, scores of them, even over a season, rather than spoil and fester within two mornings. Konrad had told him what he intended to do with the headless carcass he'd dragged back into the Pridesun pavilion two days ago, and once the cook had gotten over the shock of Konrad covered in blood (and cleaned up his plethora of cuts), he had only one thing to say.

"Salt. You need salt."

"Salt..."

Konrad murmured the word to himself in Pavi, as he watched another strip finish crinkling and curling and withering into itself. That was the last one. The rest had gone from red-or-pink to almost brown, hard and sizzling and gnarled as they hung off the frame.

"Aye. Ready."

Sunberth-born and Drykas-born both picked the frame clean as if it were a tree bearing fruit. Hisses and muted curses sputtered from their lips now and then, as their fingers singed on some particularly scorching piece of meat... but they'd left it long enough. They had more to worry about from coughing amidst the smoke, and Konrad chugged down half a tankard of water once the last of the jerked meat was collected.

"Looks good," Sedon said with an appraising little upside down smile. "Man taught you this, taught you good. Drykas?" Konrad just nodded and Sedon beamed with racial pride. "Ah, of course..."

The mercenary leaned forward and started to gather some jerky for himself. Well, that's what it would look like, anyway. But his object wasn't to eat, but to... persuade, or so he hoped. Sedon frowned and his impressed expression vanished unto suspicion, watching the wahlak try to make off with early a third of the morning's work.

"Hey, not all for-"

"Make trade," Konrad said, wanting to keep testing his Pavi even as he wanted to get away, too. "Need new... ah... armpit." Sedon blinked. Konrad patted his bow, the quiver looking a little more sparse than normal. Finally the Drykas rolled his eyes and said slowly, "Arrows. Not 'armpit'."

"Good, yes, arrows. But need meat trade."

Sedon pursed his lips and Konrad knew why: it wasn't against the rules for a man to keep a chunk of food for himself, but... well, if a man did it often, he was simply frozen out of the pavilion. Men had to be useful, and that meant contributing. If you didn't do that, then why keep you around? Konrad understood it, but also understood that he'd been a good little boy for a whole petching season, and Sedon knew it.

"... fine. Once. Not again."

Konrad winked. With his good eye. As he walked backward with his little hide-wrapped parcel of fresh jerky, he made a fluttering sign that was all stuttery with his haste, and Sedon chuckled.

"You're welcome, crazy wahlak..."

It didn't take Konrad long to find the Duskstep Pavilion. He'd been there before, of course, and quickly realized that everyone knew where it was. If you hunted or trapped - which was every Drykas - you went there for supplies. Konrad had bought his bow and arrow and quiver there days before and... wait, had she been there, too? Had he walked right by her without even noticing?

Maybe, he thought dryly as he pushed aside the flap and stepped inside. But she wouldn't have missed your face, I'd wager.

Konrad locked eyes with Cobb, swarthy features and lively tattoos smacking him in the face like always. The boy knew how to make an impression, him and his sister. Their father - smart as both and twice as wily - was nowhere to be found, but Konrad's gaze swept along new arrows and he made a simple sign of greeting.

Gained one in return, and a quirked eyebrow.

Yes, I can learn another petching language, you condescending horse buggerer.

"Need, ah... fresh... arrows." He looked around and heard a muted splashing from across the tent, but couldn't see her. And damn, Cobb was already walking over, scratching his chin as he passed buckets and barrels and pots of arrows, trying to find a match for Konrad's bow. "Tell y'what, I'll come back later. Yer busy an'-"

A shadow danced in the corner of his eye. He turned and a silhouette writhed and stretched and shrunk, grew large and then thin, moved like she moved. Konrad kept watching... until he saw that flash of blonde hair, and gripped his package a touch tighter.

Cobb's other eyebrow joined the first. Well. He was not expecting this one to be sniffing around the girl...

[Sloane]

A familiar voice, rough and not much removed from a growl, caught Sloane's attention, and she dried her arms off quickly, hair sticking to her damp face. Weaving around the buckets and barrels, Hansel came into view, and Sloane smiled gently, eye's softening as she made her way over to the taller man. "Evening Hansel." She greeted, a tad hesitant. She was surprised that he'd even come round, but she supposed he'd have to get new arrows eventually.

She glanced over to Cobb, who was watching them, looking totally flabbergasted. "I help." She called to him, turning before the Drykas could argue and stepping closer to Hansel. "You use a shortbow, right?" She asked, thinking back to a few days before and picturing the bow he'd used. She beckoned for him to follow her, and led him around barrels to stop beside one at the back of the tent, full of arrows for a shortbow.

She bent to pick one up, and held it out for Hansel to check over and approve of before she picked out a full set of twenty. "Have you been well?" She asked, voice low to prevent Cobb or Seema from eavesdropping on her conversation. Seema especially was a little busy-body, but luckily, she had very limited understanding of Common. Cobb, on the other hand, was pretty good, and Sloane could already tell that the man was interested in why Hansel was coming to see Sloane of all people.

Truly, Sloane was wondering that too. Last time they'd met, she'd insulted him ruthlessly and he'd misunderstood her good intentions entirely, and the time before that he'd attempted to sell her into slavery. For all intents and purposes, the two shouldn't be able to get along, yet here he was, and Sloane was glad to see him. Sloane chewed her bottom lip uncertainly, teeth pulling at dry, cracked skin. "Arrows, 2gm for 20." She added, unsure of what else to say.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"An' what the petch're youse lookin'-"

Fortunately, Sloane started to speak before Konrad could get up to a full froth with the shamelessly ogling Cobb. When she did, his lips seemed to press together of their own accord, and he turned to give her a short nod of greeting. Gods, she looked in rough shape. Hair a mes, face just as worse, body radiating weariness and drudgery.

Kind of how you look at the end of every day.

"Yes. Shortbow." He patted the curved bow over his shoulder and let her lead him to one of the man barrels stuffed with arrows. His face was a mask of businesslike neutrality until she inquired after him. His mouth twitched and he flicked a glance at Cobb who was... yes, actually rubbernecking over a shelf to observe them. "Been worse. Had some trouble huntin' couple a' days ago, but..."

The Sunberth man shrugged, and Sloane could see the bandages covering his biceps and peeking out from under the neckline of his vest. Remnants of the coyote that he'd let get too close. But by now, after Konrad and the scavengers he'd left the beast to, it was the only remnant.

"m'still here."

He watched her gather up a bundle of twenty, and his frown had nothing to do with seeing her again. Twenty? He didn't need twenty, and even if he did, wasn't so dense to thunk a hunk or two of smoked meat could buy them all. So he took the proffered bundle... and then replaced all but five.

"Don't need that many, girl. This'll do." He raised his voice and changed language as he hefted the sack of aromatic meat. "Five. For this."

He shoved the package into her hands and left her to peruse it, maybe even wave Cobb over to inspect it, and hopefully approve. Konrad didn't mind: gave him time to think. Despite what that block-headed horse-buggerery-addict thought, it wasn't Konrad's loins bringing him back. If he had to put a name to his motivation, he... well, couldn't. Not without looking in forgotten places.

All he knew was that when they had been together, even when sparring back and forth like juvies, Konrad hadn't felt that... tightness in his chest. The strings pulling at the back of his neck, his shoulders, his eyes, that never allowed him to relax. He'd smiled and meant it; he'd chuckled and the sound hadn't been just another prop in his usual pantomime of intimidation.

Gods. When was the last time he'd just talked with someone?

"I'll need t'try 'em out, a'course," he said, keeping his voice as level and professional as possible. When Sloane looked up again, he'd tilt his chin towards the outside and pat his bow. "Sure yeh've got some space or targets outside, aye?" Cobb sauntered over and the wahlak (well, the male one) pointed to the day's worth of food he'd handed over. "Good for five arrows?"

[Sloane]

Sloane's brows rose in surprise. She hadn't know that Hansel was a hunter, but she supposed it made sense, though all the weapon's he lugged around seemed to be a bit of overkill. But then again, perhaps not, if he'd been injured to the extent that he was still wrapped in bandages.

She set back the spare arrows and took the bundle handed to her, frowning quizzically. She didn't have to open the warp to know what it was, the rick salty scent was a good enough clue. Sloane lifted a corner anyway, and was proved right, eye's catching sight of slices of fresh jerky. "Did you make this?" She asked curiously, the image of Hansel slaving over a fire and piles of meat slightly odd. Humming thoughtfully she stepped away and made her way quickly to Cobb. "He, uh... trade meat, five arrows?" She asked, holding the package out to the man. Cobb checked it over quickly, before nodding. "Yes, that's fine." He said finally, following Sloane back over to where Hansel stood. She glanced over her shoulder at him, slightly annoyed to have him trailing behind her, she could tell him herself after all, and didn't need her boss holding her hand.

Cobb repeated his earlier words, and Sloane handed the bundle over to him, turning with a flick of her hair to lead Hansel through a flap in the side of the tent, out into a small yard with round hay packed targets at one end. She hoped Cobb would remain in the tent, and keep his nose out of her business. She already knew that gossip spread through Endrykas like a fire through dry grassland, and she didn't need anymore fuel to feed that fire. Already she'd heard that she was Haigens' new wife, and then again that Kadir planned to take her as his third. Sloane shook her head at the thought, determined not to let the rumours get to her, or to allow either to turn to truth any time soon.

Once outside Sloane leant up against the tillering post she'd made earlier that season, and watched Hansel curiously. His injuries didn't look so serious as to impede him much, and she doubted they were much of a bother to him at all, compared to whatever had happened to his face. "I'm surprised you came." She said slowly, watching him carefully. "I didn't expect to be seeing you anytime soon." She stretched her arm back and stifled a yawn, watching as he tested out the arrows. She was too tired for tact or beating around the bush, and so simply jumped right into the issue on her mind. "You know, I really wasn't acting last time. Well, not after that first little bit. It was fun, being able to practice and not stress so much."

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad wasn't too surprised when Cobb took the meat in lieu of money. What would he be spending coin on, anyway? Granted, a business had expenses, supplies, wages, adjustments and other sundries, but the way things were that season? Food was a priority. There was Konrad, cutting out the middleman.

Sod ought to thank me.

Sloane turned on her heel and Konrad followed right on it, shooting a look over his shoulder to make sure Cobb wasn't trailing after them. He didn't want to hear any shyke about her needing a chaperone or anything, either. They stepped out into Syna and Konrad's eyes widened a touch at... quite a respectable little archery gallery.

He looked over, and the lady who'd crafted his arrows was leaning against a pole. Konrad took that as his hint, and unlimbered the bow carried over his shoulder. The bundle of five arrows he shoved into the ground, point first, notching the first one as he rose back to standing.

"I'm surprised you came. I didn't expect to be seeing you anytime soon."

Konrad snorted softly, lips moving in the suggestion of a smile.

"Dunno anywhere else does arrows. Lost me a couple, figured I'd need some new ones." That was mostly true. He'd lost a couple, that was for sure... but at least one more had been... let's say, a deliberate breakage. He needed a reason to come over, after all. "Anyone's got 'alf a brain, they knew dis place t'come fer huntin' stuff. So, here I am..."

He drew. With his back. Just like she'd taught him. A dozen scrapes and cuts all jumped and twinged under their dressings, but they were gnat bites compared to what he'd survived when first he'd arrived in Endrykas. He breathed in as he drew and was again amazed at how much stress it took of his arms.

At the peak of his breath, where he held it, he closed his eyes and squinted down the arrow. The target was maybe twenty yards away. Further than normal... but also fair large. He exhaled. Let every particle of breath sigh out of him and when he was at the dregs-

TWANG

A flick of the fingers. Just like she'd taught him. The result was the arrow thudding into the target, but Konrad still frowned. Closer to the edge than the center. Hardly good enough. But that was him, not the arrow.

"You know, I really wasn't acting last time. Well, not after that first little bit. It was fun, being able to practice and not stress so much."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, dun' go butterin' me up jus' cuz y'don't want me t'see yer arrows are shyke." Konrad growled out the words, allowed a few ticks for shock to set in... then turned to her and grinned. "See? Petchin' 'ad ya, din't I?"

Konrad chuckled to himself a uprooted a second arrow. Last time he'd talked to someone? Petch, when was the last time he'd told a joke? But her words needed an answer, not just a pantomime, and though his smile stayed in place, his words... they seemed more distant.

"Not big on talkin' 'bout the past, girl," he said, notching the bow and drawing it again, back muscles tightening under his sleeveless vest. "Bud I shouldnae... anyway, yuz say y'weren't puttin' me on, an' I believe ya. S'leave it at that."

He breathed in. He squinted. He aimed. All good and proper things but even before his fingers twitched and let the arrow fly, Konrad had a feeling he'd miss. Because while his body was pointed one way, his mind was stock still and waiting for her to answer.

[Sloane]

Sloane's brows rose rapidly at Hansel's comment about her arrows, and she tilted her head, a clear 'are you kidding me' expression crossing her face. Her arrows were fine, perfect even, if she did say so herself. She made all her own arrows, and had never once had a problem firing them. But the Hansel was grinning at her, and Sloane's face relaxed, pursing her lips against a smile, and playing at annoyed. "Well, if my arrows are so bad, maybe you should make your own." She sniffed playfully. "I'd say it's more likely to be user error anyway."

Mood improved, Sloane watched Hansel nock his next arrow, silently listening as he finally replied to her question. "Okay fine, I'll stop bugging you about it." She smiled, glad to have it over and done with. She pushed herself upright and darted back inside the tent to grab her own bows and quiver. Returning to the clearing, she came to stand beside Hansel, lining up with a target beside the one he was using. With quick fingers, she fastened the quivers ties to her belt.

"Can I ask you something else then?" She grinned, pulling an arrow from her quiver and nocking it. She was going to ask regardless, and so she spoke before Hansel got the chance to reply. "Why are you in Endrykas?" She raised a brow, looking over at him. She doubted he would answer, but she'd never know unless she asked, and though she was wary of him growing annoyed and leaving, she decided to take the risk.

Sloane lined up side on to the target, and brought the bow up, drawing the bowstring as she went. Her fingers were hooked around the bowstring securely, but she was careful to curl no more than the first knuckle around it. The elbow of her arm left arm turned out from the bow, so that Sloane could keep it as clear from the bowstring as possible. Again she cursed herself for not buying a bracer, buts he supposed she would just have to deal with the sting the string would inflict.

With her right arm, Sloane drew the bowstring straight back, feeling the pull in her back and chest as she held the draw for a long moment, the fletching brushing her mouth. Her gaze ran down the length of the arrow, lining the arrow head up with the centre of the target. Once she was happy with her aim she relaxed her fingers, bringing them quickly away from the arrow and letting it fly.

The arrow hit off centre, but Sloane was satisfied with it. She knew more than well enough that her aim wasn't the best, even when the target was still. Shooting a moving target baffled her, and she turned to watch Hansel. Her gaze slide from the bow in his hand, to the knife at his waist and she raised a curious brow. Day's earlier she'd taken the plunge and bought a dagger, something she'd never even dreamed of using, at least no until Endrykas. "Hansel..." She began slowly, thoughtfully. "What other weapons do you know?"

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

"'User Error'. Have t'remember that one..."

That sadly lank blonde hair moved away from his peripheral and Konrad thought she was done for the day. After all, she'd got her pay, and seen that her work was satisfactory. Was he expected to follow her? But when he looked behind him, he saw her return, bow and quiver in her hands, intent look on her face.

"Tryna' make me look bad, I can tell."

His words came out with his customary growl, but there was no heat to them. Some part of him was as agog as Cobb probably was, that he could be standing there, trading quips with some girl like he was... well, ordinary.

You were ordinary. In Sunberth.

Then she had to go and spoil it by talking again, right as he was lining up his third shot. Questions. Damnit, there were always going to be questions. He'd had his fill of them over the last season. Jonas, his gaggle, other wahlaks who made the mistake of thinking they were petching comrades... maybe in the long run, that worked in Sloane's favor. Because that time, he decided to regard the question more as a challenge, than an inquiry.

"Why are you in Endrykas?"

Stick to the question, he said to himself, lips twitching in perverse amusement as he squinted down the arrow. And only the question.

"Cuz I can't go anywhere else, can I?"

TWANG

"Shyke..." Still off-center, but getting better, inch by slow inch. Konrad took off his hat and wiped his brow, looking at the three arrows he'd skewered the target with already. Two more to go and then, well... he supposed that would be it. "Anyway, y'asked why, an' dat's why. Got nowhere else t'go."

For now, he added mentally.

She spoke again and the topic turned in a direction that actually lit something of a fire in Konrad's eyes. He faced her and saw her wide, bright eyes rove over the weapons he wore... or at least the ones she could see, anyway. The kopis at his belt, the kukri at his back, maybe the hilt of the dagger in his boot. He picked up his second-to-last arrow and studied the head of it, lips pursed as he made a show of pondering.

"More'n a few, but less than all." Who would have thought he'd enjoy being cryptic? Too much time around that bastard Pridesun. "This'n-" he patted the hilt of his sword "-been wiv' me longest... well, nah, s'not true, but I done most work wiv' it, I'd say. This-" his free hand vanished around his back and came back with a curved, heavy blade "-is me second, y'could say." He sheathed the kukri and bent down, pulling the dagger from his boot. "Got this'n, too, since y'never know... well, an' this-"

One dagger went away, and another emerged, that time from the other boot. He offered her the throwing knife and smiled with half his mouth.

"Well, y'know that one, dunt'cha?"

He left out the push dagger, of course. Hidden in his belt buckle and razor sharp, like all the others. His last, secret resort, if all else was taken or if he needed to do the job quiet and nasty and unsuspecting. His free hand drifted down to his pocket and patted the weight of the brass knuckles resting there, strange, twisted smile of fond remembrance on his face.

"Why d'y'ask?" He said, taking his own cue to ask a few questions. He cocked his head and scrutinized her, tapping the arrow head lightly against his thigh. "Lookin' to broaden yer knowledge, eh?"

[Sloane]

Sloane sighed at his vague answer and nocked another arrow, again she made sure to rotate the elbow of her bow arm out. She straightened, ensuring her posture was perfect, her back aligned and arms raised to from a 'T'. This time when she drew and aimed, Sloane paid more attention to her muscles, careful to keep them flexed and not to relax while she concentrated on aiming. Before she loosed the arrow she took a short moment, going through a mental checklist and assessing her posture, and how she was using her muscles. Confident that her technique was correct she released the arrow, arm drawing back on the follow through.

Her aim still wasn't perfect, but this time the arrow landed with much more force, causing a solid 'thunk' that she'd lacked before. She turned, letting her bow arm fall to her side as she watched Hansel, eye's flitting from one weapon to the next, brow's rising a tick higher with each new one her revealed. She smiled as the throwing dagger was revealed, but didn't take it. "Hmm, familiar enough with that one." She replied wryly, returning his smile. "So just a few weapons then? Nothing much." Sloane said sarcastically, half wondering how he could even walk with so much metal weighing him down.

"I bought a dagger, actually." She said after a moments pause. She felt at odds with Hansel; Sloane could barely bring herself to strap the knife to her waist, let alone imagine using it. When she'd been living in Syliras she hadn't even carried her bow with her, she'd had no need or reason to worry about it. Even now, the dagger was buried in the bottom of her bag. "I figured it'd be more reliable than my bow in a hurry." She swallowed, images from her nightmares flashing through her mind; tattooed arms pushing her to the ground and holding her there, Sloane too small and weak to fight back. Clearing her throat, she glanced away, scratching at the back of her neck and yawning.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts

[Konrad Venger]

Whatever she thought of his answer, she kept it to herself, and Konrad's appraisal of the girl swelled a mite more. Smart enough to know a man who doesn't like answering questions too much. Instead she focused on her shot, and Konrad made sure to still himself. Wouldn't be fun to throw her off. Not yet, anyway.

He whistled low as the arrow smacked into the target, sound queer and uneven thanks to his ruined lips. She was getting better, most definitely.

"Very good," he said, signing with his free hand. "But youse work here, so y'got the unfair ud'vantuge."

She perused his weapons and shot off another arrow, this time of words and dry wit, and Konrad was as impressed with it as the one still vibrating softly in the target. He chuckled and shrugged, her own thoughts confirmed when she heard the faint but definite sound of clinking, clanking metal across his body.

"Never know what y'might lose inna' brawl, or not 'ave wiv' ya when it starts. Better t'have plenty a' options." He held out his hands, facing up. Sloane could look down and see the calluses long etched into them... and the scars on the palms. Both the same, so much so they had to be a ritual of some kind. Konrad didn't realize until after he'd given her such a clue as to his other ability. "But n'just as good wi' these, steel or not." His mouth tugged up at one corner as he turned away, notching his fourth arrow. "Even if it is me sayin' it..."

Left foot pointed at the target, right foot facing away. Arrow resting over his hand, three fingers behind the feathers. His shoulders and back muscles tightening together, squeezed slow but steady as he took up the weapon... and his eye closed as the arrow came up to meet it... aiming down the shaft and waiting until the tip was no longer weaving.

Or not as much, anyway.

He breathed in. He held it. That and the sound of industry and commerce and agriculture all around them. Metal and hooves and water and slop buckets and chopping wood and aromas to go with them all. Trapped that moment and then shoved it all away as he exhaled.

Just the arrow, him, and the target.

He fired and barked out in victory

-swiftly followed by a hiss of oain.

"Bastard!" He growled, clutching his left arm, already going red from where the string had slapped him hard, almost skinning a good strip of it. "Gotta do summin' 'bout that shyke."

The girl mentioned weapons again, her own, and Konrad was welcome for the distraction even as he wondered why she'd sodding ignore his pain. Then he just blinked as she kept talking, listening but berating himself even as he did. What did that matter? What had it ever?

"Dagger?" He said, trying to find some purchase in the conversation. "Aye, s'a good start. Good weapon t'fall back on, when nothing else is t'hand."

She turned, too quickly. She yawned too wide and stretched without there being any real relief in the gesture afterwards. Konrad frowned minutely, always sensitive to deception. In a hurry... or if she was desperate. If she never had a chance and wanted something, anything to buy her a few ticks, or at least make the bastard remember her when he was done.

What should you say? Konrad studied her carefully neutral posture in silence. She's a slave. It's how the world is, has been for centuries. What else, then? The world ain't fair? She knows that already. So what are you going to do about it?

Sod all, and you know it.

"Would ya show it to me?" He said slowly, words clearer and not so garbled and growled as they usually were when he spoke in his native Sunberth accent. His head bobbed and lowered, trying to catch her gaze with his own. "Hmm? I can show yeh a thing or two wiv' it. Nothin' fancy, but... well, better than what y'know now, innit?"