7
Faris’s mind was in shock, but she took a step forward.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
“Sure. Don’t regret it, though.”
Andar stands up. He goes to the counter and gains the attention of the cook, Johnson.
“Tell Raul I’d be using the shack and horse tonight. Oh, dont bar the door I’ll be coming in late.”
He leads Dawson to his room, where he closes the door and leans against the open window.
“You aren’t so smart, you know? Tavern has ears and with bad luck you gain the wrong attention. Not that it matters for your case.”
Andar reaches under his bed for a bottle. The full and empty one are mixed.
“Your box’s at Baron Alnen’s hand. You still wanna take it?”
The boy’s face was etched on her mind, she couldn’t forget the plea from the boy. Why didn’t she go on to save him?
Regret filled her heart, causing her to break down, taking many more steps forward.
@discobot roll 1d20
The mention of Alnen’s name disgusts his face. “That…swine.” He says through his teeth.
“Of course I want it. I’ll pay double on return for you to steal it with no traces back to me.” jingling his coincase.
“Well… uh… I-I’m sure this is a dream anyway, so I guess I have to indulge in it before I wake up, heh………….”
Uncertainty and Denial, common friends of Cedar, have returned and it clearly shows.
As a latch ditch effort from her survival instinct, she bursts away as fast as she can, running away from her guilt with the utmost haste in the world.
The form of the blood god Mithras etches deeper into her mind as she races away, her mind screaming to return.
Andar takes a swig and almost choke. Water. He did put some in bottles to help him getting sober but damn if he likes it.
"No deal, " he says between coughing. “I’m informant, not a thief. I can refer you to some good stealers but I’m not that good.”
Cedar is unprepared for the sudden slap coming from Parn’s hand due to his internal monologue.
“Congratulations. I think you aren’t asleep.” He shrugs.
“Mit-…Oh lord, the hell is up with you? How can I trust that you aren’t just spurring me along while you work under that swine to get me framed in court!?” Dawson slams his foot against the ground, shaking his fist.
“I say in that case, give me back my funds you plebian!”
“You clearly don’t have a use for them.”
She runs as fast as she could, away from her own village. A coward, running just from the depths of her fear.
And she makes use of her knowledge of the forest to make it back to the town by the docks.
Cedar grips onto the edge of the crow’s nest trying not to fall as he recovers from the impact.
“G-God damn it… I might need to sleep if I’m not doing it already, I mean… I can’t lead anyone if I’m delirious as hell.”
At the docks, most of the shops are closed, but the light of one of the taverns show that there is still some night life out here.
“We’ve got an armada of whiskey that we used to shovel for the captain.”
“It’s the most necessary step of the process to becoming a captain: becoming an alcoholic.” He pungently speaks with exuding sarcasm.
“I would rather change that rule and become a waterholic.”
He nervously laughs not knowing how much more he can take talking about holding such a large responsibility.
“Seawater is far worse for your health. At least getting drunk tastes good!” He snickers.
Parn looks Cedar dead in the eyes, still laughing. “Now stop beating around the bush and get to it!”