Finding an Accord (Naama)

[Rhuryc]

80th Spring, 511AV The Freight Docks Exploration always lead to interesting endeavors. Even if it tended to get him lost. From what he could tell, Rhuryc was at some kind of dock. Huh. Why had he not disembarked here? There was certainly less people. And less interest in him. When the crowd of onlookers had greeted their party he had got the feeling that certain individuals of the female persuasion had been especially noticing of him. While that was in no way a bad thing, it certainly made him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he was free now, and walking about without much of an agenda was the most relief he had since arriving in the quaint little settlement. His boots clattered along the wooden docks, his coat swishing behind him in the wind from the sea. Salt. What a strange scent. He traveled light for the time being, separated from the rest of his 'pack', carrying only his sword and enough coin to keep him out of trouble. The former of the two items was displayed on his hip. Although that was enough in most places to keep any morons away from trouble, new settlements brought new cultures. And Rhuryc had a bad feeling. Not a chime past midday, the docks seemed to be in full bloom. Although that was certainly subdued compared to Rhuryc's experiences. Syliras was always bustling with activity, Avanthal - despite its location - still had a flurry of traffic going to and from the various holds, but here? Everything felt hushed, somehow quieter than the rest of the world. That was nice. For once. He passed a few individuals in various armaments - soldiers? - and they made little fuss to his presence, though her certainly spent more time sizing the lot of them up than was necessary. A strange habit of his. Rhuryc weighed his own gait against these men. Could he take all three? Probably not. Hell, he did not even have his shield with him. Or maybe he could not call out the local guardsmen on his first day inside Denval. His trek came to a sudden halt near the edge of the pier. Standing stiff, Rhuryc laid a single hand on the hilt of his blade as he watched the open ocean. His chest heaved as he took a single, drawn out breath, taking in the pleasantries of this wonderful little city. The idea of leaving already seemed a forlorn activity. Why was it he was only passing through? The idea of finding a place here was appealing, but that desire was still there. And just what was that feeling? Well, he had yet to find out. Though for now he had an ill begotten feeling. A glance brought his attention back to the various warehouses flanking the shore. What was bugging him so much?

[Naama]

She liked Denval. It was quaint. Small but hospitable. And these people were loveable in more ways than one, that was for sure. Liquor seemed to be passed around as quickly as a loose whore, and Naama was quick to take advantage of it. She’d even left Squirt with the plump Squig to take care of any manly business they had to take care of, and Hawkins? Well, they’d catch up with each other at some point. Preferably in a private room somewhere inconspicuous. What she hadn’t expected after spending several hours at the Stranger’s Welcome was finding herself tipsy at the end of it. Squirt had even popped out of nowhere, asking her what it was like and if he could get some cakes at the market. The twerp liked to steal, so she wondered why he didn’t just go snatch one for himself. No no, that’s the liquor talking. She had to teach him to be a good boy. Chivalrous and honorable and all that load of bullshit that Syliran Knights like to preach but rarely ever follow. “Please please pleaseeeeeeeeee.” Squirt groaned, “Pleasepleaseplease can I have a coin?” “What happened to your sticky fingers, can’t put them to good use anymore?” Naama replied, quirking a brow. “These people have fat groins. I keep missing.” Both the boy and the woman were walking along the docks. Naama checked her coin purse, finding it woefully lacking in the currency department. What she did catch a glimpse of, however, was a very handsome man leisurely walking all by his lonesome, just screaming for a boy to snatch his coins. Naama took Squirt aside, “You see that man over there? The tall, blonde one. Don’t look, lad, he’ll notice. He looks like he has plenty of coins on his person, ye see. So how’s about you put your skills to good use and see if you can…. borrow some from him, hmm?” “Do I get anything out of this?” Squirt puffed his cheeks out. “Well of course you do. You get coins, and what do coins buy?” “Whores and cakes?” “Exactly. Now off you go!” Naama pushed Squirt forward, and the boy obliged. He ran straight up to Rhuryc with a lopsided grin. “Hi mister, you have a big nose.” Then he aimed a fist right at his nuts. He stood there, waiting to be chastised by the man. “SQUIRT!” Naama roared, stepping out from behind a crate. If it were not for her appearance she’d have sounded like his mother. “What have I told you about hitting a man’s fruits?” “Um, you can poke a hole in one and it deflates?” “And I’m sure these are mighty fine fruits, Squirt. So apologize to this man and we can go about our way being poor destitute wanderers.” Sometimes, bullshitting was a fact of life.

[Rhuryc]

What? Rhuryc glanced down. Child. Okay. Dirty child. From the looks of the little squirt he had never bathed once in his life. And he hardly shared the common Denval heritage - at least from what he'd seen. Yet before the man could fathom any sort of response to the challenge of his nose the boy's fist flew free. Right into the groin. Rhuryc saw himself as a combat veteran. Experienced. Trained. And he had no reason to suspect the child of assault. So it was that he found the day's first discomfort. And the reason he was so ill at ease. He grunted. Luckily, the little bastard was not very strong. Still. That shit hurt. In some queer mixture of surprise and disdain, Rhuryc managed to keep himself upright, but it was evident that he was regretting not hurling the child off the edge of the pier. Gah. And more. Recollecting his composure, Rhuryc found his gaze drawn to the new addition to their little scene. If the boy was strange than his companion was an anomaly. He had never seen anything like her before. Black eyes, strange tattoos, skin the color of sand. How peculiar. He spent a fair degree of time examining her, the cogs inside his mind working over as many scenarios as could present themselves. Albeit he did it all while remaining proper, his gaze never once dipping below the neck. What a gentlemen. Besides the obvious attributes what caught his attention where the weapons. At once he assumed a different accord with these guests. They were hardly hostile, but his gaze never strayed too far for long. Not too mention the little runt. He made sure to keep an eye on him. Rhuryc set a hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. The habit was an unconscious one. "They're fine, no need for apologies." His gaze flicked between the two, his countenance light and welcoming - at least he wasn't angry. "Can't imagine what I did to set him off. He fond of punching men in the fruits? Was she his mother? Hell no. Well, maybe. Rhuryc had seen stranger things.

[Naama]

Oh my, he was even more handsome up close! But by the looks of him he was probably some kind of knight. And how those knights could be such a pain in the ass to undress, what with talk of chastity and marriage and honor and all this right bullshit that spewed from their mouths. Naama even half expected the man to smack Squirt upside the head, but he hadn’t! Now he truly was the chivalrous sort. Unfortunately, it posed more questions than answers. While Rhuryc was studying her… face, Naama gladly scrutinized, well, pretty much every inch of him she could. And she liked what she saw. His response to the blatant attack on his groin, however, caught her off guard. She passed him a skeptical glance, “You’re not a eunuch are you?” Squirt glanced up at her, “What’s a eunuch?” She smacked him lightly upside the head and he glanced at the ground, huffing in irritation. “Apologies for the child, he’s a bit of a nutter. Likes to inhale rat droppings. Been meaning to get him to stop, one of these days…” She nudged him and he puffed his cheeks further in retaliation. “So how is it that a man who is clearly on the better side of the visual spectrum walking all alone out on some shoddy docks? Shouldn’t you be rutting some strumpets somewhere? You know, ‘swabbing your decks‘?”

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc blinked. The last time his groin had been the subject of a conversation was - well, never. All of the women he knew were demure. Withheld. Sure, Atzi showed a certain lack of appreciation for clothing, but her demeanor was innocent. She simply did not know better. But this? Maybe the boy being there made it a bit uncomfortable. Whatever. Wait, enunch, what? Rhuryc shook his head, recovering for a moment before he bothered to issue some sort of response. Really. Who the hell was this woman? "A eunuch is man that has had this private parts removed." He glanced down at the boy. Ah. That was somewhat of a revenge. He offered Squirt a humored grin. It was not long before his attention found its way back to Naama. Despite the fact that he had his gaze focused on the woman's face he was not totally without urges. He just adept at seeing without being all too obvious. Well shaped. Hm. "I'm sure there are better wandering Denval. Though I'm not sure if the women would agree." For a moment he remembered the welcoming at the first dock. And the stares. He felt like mobile meat in this damn place. "And no. Unless there are strumpets somewhere to be rutted. My decks aren't as public as you might think." Were they flirting? Hardly. Rhuryc was harder to read than a brick wall. The man barely gave an inch. Though, it was apparent he was willing to give more than few to this woman. "And what is a woman with your attributes doing hitting up the random gallivanting of some strange foreigner? Short of ensuring my fruit basket is still intact."

[Naama]

Squirt blinked, “You don’t have balls mister?” And he poked him, right in his junk. Repeatedly. Naama grabbed his arm and yanked him away, laughing, “Oh what a darling he is, really.” She took him aside and murmured, “Go find Hawkins, he’ll give you twenty cakes, and if he doesn’t… well, you know where he puts his stash.” She winked, and Squirt grinned from ear to ear, dashing off the second Naama released his arm. She turned to regard Rhuryc again with a charming smile, “Now, my good gentleman, as a matter of fact there is a place to rut a strumpet. Or strumpets to be rutted. There’s a brothel right over there, and I heard they’re quite efficient.” Then she grabbed his arm and turned him around, right in the direction of the Temple of Nikali. “Can’t you just smell the debauchery? Satisfying, isn’t it?” And when Rhuryc questioned her, Naama chuckled, patting his shoulder, “I’m not going to lie, I approached you in the hopes of getting you so intoxicated you wouldn’t remember me stripping off your clothes and having my way with you,” She winked, “Or maybe I said too much. Either way, my name is Naama and I’m in dire need of another drink, would you care to join me at the Stranger’s Welcome?” She didn’t even bother waiting for his answer. She dragged him there, arms locked.

[Rhuryc]

That was disturbing. Rhuryc looked down. He did not make any move to stop squirt, exactly, he just gave the boy a quizzical stare. If the kid punched him again he might just retaliate this time. Luckily, his mother, guardian - employer? - squashed any such nonsense before it came about. He remained silent long enough for Squirt to make his exit. What the hell kind of name was Squirt? Really, he did not have much better. More than a few eyebrows had been raised at his own name. They regarded each other. Perhaps Naama more so than Rhuryc. He made no motion to deny the contact, going so far as to even let his body be twisted against its will. Sometimes there was fun in that. Brothel? Ah. No. "About as satisfying as being punched in the balls." He flicked a grin in her direction. And they were off. Between the winks and oh-so subtle nudges he was barely able to get in a single word. Something about his clothes being removed made him compliant. They trek was nothing particularly special. A quick meander through the docks and down the path to the Stranger's Welcome. "Rhuryc. I don't think you could have said much more, unless you just wanted to skip the Welcome altogether." He bit off a laugh. He was only partially joking. Instead, he kept stride as they made their way ahead, allowing himself to be somewhat amused by the woman's height. She almost as tall as he was. And, for once, he didn't have to look down just to speak. The terrain passed with little to do. For the most part Rhuryc did little talking, responding when it was appropriate and when an ample quip came to mind. He was rarely so sharp. Maybe it was the tattoos. They strolled into the inn before long and the man took the lead, slipping up to the counter and kicking one of the stools out for his female companion. How smooth. He placed himself down and shifted his sword aside while motioning to the tender. "If this is anything like the ale from Syliras we should be vomiting in no time."

[Naama]

Ah, the local tavern, never far from Naama's reach. Most of the time she found herself alone here, if not with Hawkins. But the halfbreed was the type of person to either make friends or make tons and tons of enemies. Fortunately, today was going to be the former. Hopefully. The air here was warm with the sweltering heat of steaming food and bodies, alike. It was a familiar atmosphere, with the cacophony of rough voices weaving stories new and old and plenty of riffraff. Naama settled herself upon the stool Rhuryc so generously pulled out for her and ordered a tankard of the best ale they had. While she waited, she leaned forward against the counter, resting her arm on it's surface. "Can't say I've ever been to Syliras, so I'll take your word for it. I feel they don't exactly take kindly to people like..... well, like me." She snickered, picking up the tankard set before her with both hands to take a gulp, afterward wiping her lips with a hand. "So what are you, some kind of... knight? A dashing knight come to save a damsel? I can pretend I'm in distress to make it easier." She winked, taking another sip. "It can't be healthy, being under that much authority. Syliras needs to lighten up, pull that stick out of their arse. Rut some whores and live a little."

[Rhuryc]

"After they were done gawking at you and wondering what your breasts looked like in private they'd probably file you to the guard for disturbing the peace." Rhuryc spoke before he grabbed his own drink and lifted the alcohol to his lips. He took as good a pull as any, drawing in deep from the mug while eyeing the strange woman from the side. Beneath the scent of stale beer and the various patrons he could still somehow make out that exotic feel, something unique; at least, from his perspective. The cup hit the counter with a dull clink. "No. Not a Knight. Blacksmith." That was sort of true. He ignored the blade at his side. "A very bored migrant smith. So better not find that distress, I'm right useless in a real fight. The sword is for show." A smirk followed. Really, he was barely even intoxicated, but his motions may have as clumsy as a drunk's. "Not healthy at all. Just about as bad as whatever game it is we're playing here. How about we venture to my room and skip all the bantering, I'm no good at it anyway." Rhuryc tilted his head to the side and glanced at Naama. His eyes held little but sincerity.

[Naama]

"'Disturbing the peace', I always get that. What's so disturbing about a little roughhousing? Nothing, I tell you. Only good clean fun." Naama sipped at her ale again, feeling quite at ease with this stranger, as if he was a long lost lover she'd left at sea. "A blacksmith, mm, that does sound kinky. What would you say for that? Let's see... forge your shaft? Bend your metal?" The halfbreed laughed, "Oh don't worry about that, I can more than make up for both you and I when it comes to fighting. It's my outlet, gets my creative juices flowing if you know what I mean." She winked. There was no hesitation when Rhuryc suggested the room. By the time he'd finished his sentence, Naama had pulled him up from the stool, dropped some coin on the counter, taken the tankard with her and pulled him outside, where she continued to gulp down the remnants of the ale as they walked. "By all means, give me the tour of your room."