[Mkguild] The Harvest Festival (17/20)

[Hallan Mirayas]

-------

 =


   Yvarra didn't even
have time to dive for the ground when the ''Sword of Songs'' donged a warni=
ng.
Before it had finished, she felt the dart thump into her thigh. Warmth flow=
ed
from the alicorn on her forehead as she plucked the weapon out.

 =


   Damn that cult!
Chasing her everywhere. Throwing knives and darts at her at all times. Eli =
damn
them to the Seven Hells! Couldn't they leave a poor unicorn alone?

 =


   Hmph! So much for
resting in daylight.

 =


   She needed a plan,
and she needed it -yesterday-. The cultists were winning, and she had no id=
ea
how to find them, or how to fight them. She needed time to -think-. Maybe i=
n a
crowd-

 =


   Not running, but
walking briskly, she hurried through the gates and off towards the crowded
commons. She could mingle, have some piece, and figure out what in Eli's na=
me
she could do!

 =


   Usually she liked
festivals. Perfect grounds for some simple wealth acquisition. But now, -no=
w-
she was afraid to touch anything because she had no clue who was a damn cul=
tist!
Snorting, she adjusted her fedora. And she still needed to get a proper
scabbard for the damn sword. Hopefully here-

 =


   The sword donged a
warning.

 =


   Great, just great.
At least this time there was no immediate dart. She looked around, getting =
a bit
frantic, and then saw where the booths were, pushing her way through and
blessing her height. Stopping, she stared. It was! It was that damn monster
tiger from the Keep. The lack of attacks she'd suffer on the mountain sugge=
sted
that the cult wasn't there, and that suggested he was safe. And, Kelpnos be
thanked, he looked to be selling weapons. She pushed her way towards him.

 =


   It wasn't far, and
she watched him watching her from the counter he sat behind. What was it wi=
th
Metamorans and counters? What happened to the good old wagon and tent? Anyw=
ay,
either he was a very poor merchant, or he'd been quite successful so far.
Hopefully the latter. As long as he wasn't a cultist, she didn't really care
anymore.

 =


   She relaxed a bit,
though she could feel her ears still flicking, and she kept sniffing at the
air. They were here. And they knew that she knew. And she knew that they kn=
ew
that she knew. And-  She shook her head
to clear it. She needed sleep.

 =


   Why was she here
again? Oh right, the scabbard.

 =


   The sword plucked a note of agreement.

 =


   She stopped in
front of his- stall? Counter? "Hello, sorry, busy. I need a scabbard for
this. There was an accident." She unbuckled the strap from over her
shoulder and pulled the heavy thing off. "You got anything that'll do?"

 =


   He stared at her
with a neutral expression. But then, did cats ever have anything else? At l=
east
his tail bent, unlike that bloody Brennar. The tiger's voice was deep and
measured, full of barely restrained strength, and threat. "I might have
something that would fit that weapon, but that would mean pulling apart an
existing set of weapons in order to furnish you with the needed item."

 =


   She rolled her
eyes. Damn smiths, always trying to raise the price. At least she only had =
to
keep turning her head a little to see what was going on around her. "You
have anything with throwing knives? I've been going through a lot recently."
If only he knew.

 =


   She watched him
frown. Of course, she could hear him thinking, warriors ''never'' used thro=
wing
knives! Well, she hadn't cared what others thought of her for a long time, =
and
she didn't care now.

 =


   Still, he said
nothing. Instead he asked, "Why are you carrying that large sword, ma'am?
Even I can see that you don't really know how to use it, and I have seen a =
lot
in my life."

 =


   Stupid! Stupid
stupid -stupid-! Of course a warrior would notice that kind of thing, just =
like
she'd notice the same with knives or a sling. For a second, she through of
playing the arrogant noble given a toy, but the ''Sword of Songs'' was just=
 too
distinctive. When in doubt, mix the truth with the lie. "It's kind of an
heirloom. It-" The sword played the sound of a discordant cymbal. "She
and I are still working things out. Learning to use it is on my list when I
have the time." If I survive till the new year.

 =


   She watched him
cock his head and wiggle an ear as the ''Sword of Songs'' commented. "I
see," he said. He placed a hand on the hilt of one of his swords.

 =


   Great. Damn finicky
warriors. What had she done wrong -this- time?

 =


   Thank Eli he just
continued. "Can I please take a closer look at your weapon, so that I can
get a good idea of what would fit it?"

 =


   Closer look? She
clenched the hilt tightly. But then, what harm was he going to do? Especial=
ly
here. She just prayed the cultists kept their distance. She could feel power
here through her alicorn, hopefully the thing wasn't glowing. She needed mo=
re
-time-! With an act of will, she loosened her grip. "Sure. I do apologize
for the scabbard=85 it was what I had or nothing."

 =


   "It's a hack
job if I ever saw one."

 =


   She snorted. If
only he knew.

 =


   "You must've
been in a hurry when you did it." He pulled the sword from the cut-off
scabbard and examined it. It made a low tone, like the long draw of a bow o=
n a
string.

 =


   She watched him,
heart pumping, as he examined it. Her ears were flicking all over the place,
and she began feeling a bit light-headed from sucking air into her nostrils=
 so
fast. Clenching her fists, she forced herself to calm a little.

 =


   The hilt had an
elegant downward-pointed cross-tree on it and there were subtle engravings =
on
the cross-tree, the pommel, and the first two inches of the blade. Yvarra h=
ad
never really taken the time to look at it. Swords were just tools. But this=
=85
When she stole stuff she looked for the ornate, the fancy.  The Sword of So=
ngs was different. No runes,
no heavy detail, no sculpting, no gems. Just clean, smooth lines. In its own
way, it was more beautiful than the gold and gem covered monstrosities she'd
seen so many times.

 =


   He stepped back,
and she stepped forward. Then he pulled one of his own swords from its scab=
bard
and slid the ''Sword of Songs'' into it. It fit perfectly, and the two side
thongs slipped over the cross-trees to reach their studs without a problem.

 =


   "How does this
look?" he asked.

 =


   "It looks
fine. Appearance isn't that big a thing compared to functionality. May I?"
She reached to take it back-

 =


   "Wait a second
miss! You are forgetting something. This costs money, and you did mention t=
hat
you wanted throwing knives." He pulled down a baldric that contained four
sheathes with throwing knives contained therein. "If you want both, that
will cost fifty suns."

 =


   "No, I hadn't
forgotten! Though I trust you, if I need this thing and my life is at stake=
, I
have to know -now- how easily it draws. If you want, hold the scabbard whil=
st I
draw my sword. Then we can talk."

 =


   He reversed the
scabbard and undid the two peace thongs before pointing the hilt of her wea=
pon
towards her. He obviously had no intention of letting go of this scabbard u=
ntil
it was properly paid for. Merchant or warrior, she couldn't tell anymore. N=
ot
that it really mattered.

 =


   "Sorry.  I've just learned the hard way that looks don't
mean shit when somebody's trying to run you through." She reached up- she
hadn't had to do -that- in a while- and the ''Sword of Songs'' easily slid =
out
and into her grip. She slid it back in, and out and in. "Good." She
nodded in satisfaction.

 =


   "Well now, do
you want the scabbard and these four knives?" he asked her, and as he did,
he flipped his cloak open a little to reveal the hilt of a monstrous sword =
and
the heart shaped ruby set into its pommel.

 =


   She looked at the
knives.  They looked like good
craftsmanship but looks were no way to tell. And he was touchy. Better safe
than sorry. "May I handle one, and do you have a target?"

 =


   He pointed to a
post that he'd dug in for that very purpose two days before. "You can
throw it at that post there. I personally guarantee that they will never fa=
il
you in combat."

 =


   As if he knew! With
all the gods that seemed to be crowding into her life recently, she didn't
trust anything to perform as advertised anymore. She drew one of the daggers
and held it by the hilt. Good grip. She balanced it vertically on her palm.
Easy. Good balance.

 =


   "Looks like
you know your way around a throwing knife Ma'am."

 =


   Grasping it by the
handle, letting the leather warm to her touch, she squinted, cocked her hea=
d,
and found a knothole in the post. That'll do for a start=85 A swift straight
movement back, snap forward, and the dagger was wobbling by its blade, cent=
red
in the knothole. "Good balance. You need a smaller target," she
continued dryly.

 =


   Chuckling, he
reached behind his back and whipped out another knife at the target. It stu=
ck
into the wood right beside her own weapon, quivering slightly. "That's
always what I tell the guys at the Deaf Mule."

 =


   "May I try a
second one?" Without waiting for an answer, she threw it and it thunked
between the two existing daggers, quivering not at all.

 =


   "At least you
have some skill with knives, ma'am. That makes up for your lack of skill wi=
th
that sword. Why do you carry it anyway if you can't even use it properly?"

 =


   "Like I said,
she's kind of an heirloom." More nervous at the continuing lack of
cultists, Yvarra looked around, licked her nose, and sniffed the air. Too d=
amn
many food odours. Some grain mush shoved its way up and she hurriedly chewed
before swallowing again. "Fifty suns is enough to beggar my sick
grandmother, make my poor lonely grandfather turn in his grave, and my eigh=
teen
children die of starvation. Thirty."

 =


   "Ma'am, I make
the highest quality weapons this side of the Western Sea. If you want my st=
uff,
you will have to be willing to pay my prices. But right now I can tell you =
that
you will find no better hardware in all of the Midlands. My price stays unl=
ess
you can make me a better offer."

 =


   Somebody was sure
full of themselves, and no sense of humour. She'd been hoping to kill a few
minutes. Crap. She had it in gold, barely, but then she'd have next to no c=
oin
left. "Fine. Rules are yours. I'd offer a knife game with winner gets
their way, but that's liable to take us all day. How about an equivalent ge=
m in
trade?"

 =


   She hadn't wanted
to dig into them so soon, but things rarely went as planned. Reaching into =
the
pouch, she felt around.  She'd have been
happier if they hadn't been cut, or she'd had been able to find somebody she
trusted to recut them. She had no need to go to the Keep again, and anything
that kept the ''Sword of Songs'' happy, and thus kept her alive, was good in
her book. She felt a smaller one, felt the facets=85 should be. Pulling it =
out
she saw it was a brilliant star sapphire cut in twelve edges. Looked like i=
t'd
been pried out of a setting=85 what to say? Heirloom? Bad family times? No =
sense
showing the rest of the wealth she'd taken from the cultists.

 =


  She put it on the
counter. "Here. Should more than cover it, and your transaction fee to
sell it. Old family setting, ring was fake, no clue how that trick happened=
."

 =


   He picked up the
gem and scratched at it with one of his claws before he held it up to his e=
ye. "This
is a very nice stone, ma'am, but it will more than pay for what you are
purchasing. Then again, I do have to sell it."

 =


   "It's got bad
memories. Ten gold from your end to cover the difference?"

 =


   He nodded, looking
at the way she moved and her posture, her scent. Why did she always have to=
 get
the careful ones? For a long moment he just watched her, and then he pulled=
 out
five gold and dropped them on the counter. "Something isn't right about
this, I can smell it. So I'm only going to give you half of what you want f=
or
it."

 =


   Damn! This was
going to come back and bite her, she knew it. Be nonchalant=85 Where was so=
me cud
when she could use the distraction? "It's not worth the memories. Five is
fine."

 =


   He shook his head
at Yvarra and frowned. "Now you had best be on your way, ma'am, before you
attract too much attention. I've been around long enough to know that somet=
hing
isn't quite right here."

 =


   If only he knew.
She could scent his suspicion, but she had a choice. Either stay and try and
reduce it, but that didn't' seem likely, or get the hell out. Of course, if=
 the
cultists did try for her here, he'd have far greater things to worry about =
than
a bit of lost money. Of course, they'd strike by a poison dart in the eye, =
or a
toxined sharpened coin slid against your palm. She didn't even want to thin=
k of
how many times her alicorn had saved her so far.

 =


   She felt something
nick her leg and felt a wash of heat pour down from her forehead.

 =


   And again.

 =


   "I'd better be
going. You're going to think the wrong thing when I say this, but just forg=
et I
was ever here. Sword, scabbard, and daggers please?" She slipped the dart
out, wiped the poison off on her pocket, and let it slip to the ground.

 =


   Taking her
purchases, she pushed her way out into the crowd, chewing on the cud that
finally chose to come up.

 =


-------

 =


   "Well, that
salve should kick in any moment now," Drift said as the crowd started to
break up.

 =


   "Heyh! By libs
ah nub! Dbift!!! I knowb you'b behibd this sobehow!" Wolfram made his way
through the laughing crowd, his expression a mix of annoyance, amusement, a=
nd
impressed appreciation. "So hobb-" He grunted in annoyance and
pressed two fingers to his lips to minimize their numb flapping. "Good job
and HOW did you do it?"

 =


   "Numbing salve
on that last mug you drank from," Drift said, smiling smugly with both
face and tail.

 =


   "And a special
ingredient baked into your pies as an added gift from me for nearly getting=
 my
new dress wet.  It'll kick in later,"
Alexis added, an admission that startled Drift as much as anyone. "Or
maybe I'm bluffing." She rubbed her hands together and smiled. "I
guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?"

 =


   Wolfram opened his
mouth to reply, but was drowned out by a young boy in town crier garb,
shouting, "Taur pull contest starting on the Lower Festival Grounds in 20
minutes!"

 =


   Drift's ears shot
back in alarm. "Hells! That's me! Good luck at the dance tonight, Xavier!"
he called over his shoulder as he ran. By his third step, he had shifted in=
to
full dog form, using its smaller size and higher speed to vanish quickly
through the crowd.

 =


   Alexis shook her
head in bemusement as her fianc=E9e bolted from sight. "He should have taken
the rooftops=85 it would have been faster."

 =


   "Not everyone
thinks on the fly quite as easily as you do," Xavier replied, and savored
the groans his pun drew.






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