Jourin Trouble

[Artemis Black]

‘I would pay all the gold to have a relaxed day to recover. Shouldn’t have used that potion-’ Artemis thought as his mind lurched forward considering the situation while his ribs twinged in pain. ‘Totally worth it,’ he mentally added as he watched Dáire take command of the situation. ‘Need to explore that shift in attitude tonight. Mouth still works.’

Artemis gave himself a soft shake to refocus and moved over to the pair of dead. He faintly noticed the new woman’s eyes flicking to him on occasion as she helped the crew sort the still living attackers. Looking over the dead, one with a nasty gash and collapsed skull, the other with a bolt through the lung, he sighed. “Let’s see if you were stupid enough to not follow instructions,” he muttered as he knelt down and carefully yanked his bolt from the first man’s lung. He inspected the ammo, pleased it had missed the bone, and pocketed it after deciding it was mostly functional. Then, with heavily practiced motions, he quickly worked over the corpse for any intel, coin, or other interesting tidbits.

When he came up with a paring knife and a couple of useless trinkets he grunted. “No markings, no affiliations, not even pay. You seem to have been a good ruthless thug,” he said, patting the corpse’s cheek and moving over to the much bloodier companion. “You though, were a touch too slow.” Artemis carefully turned the damaged skull around, leaning in close and suppressing bile at the overwhelming scent of blood. “Crimson skull.” He narrowed his eyes at the ragged impression of a skull and bones burned into the skin just above the neck.

“Why would the skulls- maybe trying to retake the place, but they’re weak right now. Maybe a deserter, working for any pay he can get,” Artemis quietly mumbled to himself for several minutes about the possible sources of the attackers as a whole. Finally he grunted and rose to shout out to the crew. “Need some more rope over here, going to strap these idiots to a few boards and take them over with Sir Francis. One to come with, don’t care who,” he added the last after a moment’s thought.

‘Watch will handle the battered ones no problem. Likely want to come by and ask questions,’ he thought as he kicked one of the bodies in frustration. Jacobus can handle the talking if he wasn’t back in time, but he was sure the crew didn’t know the nearest dumping ground. “Actually, protector lady, come on with me,” he said, deciding he may as well get her away from the Hall if things were going to go more sideways. He was beginning to benefit from the adrenaline washing away the alcohol and was confident between his knives and the moose there wouldn’t be any trouble.

[Dáire]

Dáire’s stiff neck gave an audible crack as he spun to face Artemis, the momentum nearly knocking him off balance. His friend thought to go off alone, with an evidently well trained and seasoned fighter who looked about as compassionate or emotional, as the blade she carried? An acidic dose of panic flooded his system, and it was something he did not like, nor was he accustomed to.

A few long strides had him by the other man’s side, clasping the thief’s shoulder he leant down, words escaping him in a rush as his breath caused the short brown locks to flitter slightly. “I don’t think going anywhere with such a fighter on your own is wise melethron; especially as hung-over as we both are.” Though he wasn’t feeling it so much anymore, apparently fear for another did a good job of clearing your head some.

His grip tightened slightly as he watched the woman closely. He couldn’t get a read on her, and that along with what he’d just witnessed, unnerved him. “Please Artemis.” He implored, the concern seeping into his voice this time.

[Artemis Black]

Artemis frowned for a moment as an unintended gasp of joy at Dáire's touch caused his ribs to ache. He was not used to being loved so openly, nor by such a powerful man. When Dáire begged him he felt a flutter in his chest. He sighed and hugged the man as tightly as he felt he could before leaning up to kiss him gently. “Cundo, I am not used to being lavished so. Come with us then, I am not certain I could ride if I wanted to given my condition,” he said in a normal volume, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Besides, I’ll need to rest up and see if I can get you to use that commanding voice tonight,” he added in the barest whisper. Then he moved away, grabbing the end of a rope from Kent and working with the engineer to strap the two bodies to a handful of roughly even planks. They made quick work of the task and then attached the makeshift sled to the saddle sides with easy release knots.

When they had finished Artemis nodded to Jacobus. “Keep them in order. It’ll be near half an hour before we’re back. We’ll get a healer to come by soon, and if the watch comes by tell them we’re worried it was gang related but we have no affiliations. Maybe have Lynwood get some lancing lessons and a pretty companion for his bravery,” he said, projecting loud enough for everyone to hear easily without shouting. “Come on then mystery woman,” he added as he took Sir Francis’ lead and whistled for the mount to move.

Artemis started the walk down the broad side alleyway to the west of the Hall. The path would take them through several such alleys before finally ending in a permanently shaded area between a handful of rundown, but still heavily inhabited, row houses. The area had a severe rat problem, the kind that formed swarms and necessitated adventures coming in with powerful armor and weapons. The kind that no one in the slums could afford to hire someone to handle. And so the problem grew worse as thieves, thugs, and ne'er-do-wells dumped bodies and other refuse. The rats could make a man unrecognizable in minutes, and no one watched too closely lest they themselves become the next meal.

“So, what’s the deal? You want money, food, a tumble? Why’d you come rushing in? Don’t tell me the goodness of your heart or I’m liable to leave you with our friends here,” he said, nodding to the corpses. “The hall doesn’t need the sort of trouble do-gooder’s bring around with them.” He was frowning severely now, little hint of his recent jovial attitude. This was a matter of business, and matters of business deserved to be handle with the deadly seriousness they warranted.

[Jourin Argall]

Jourin observed the interaction between Daire and Artemis at a distance of several feet. The emotions on their faces, the way they looked into the other's eyes, and everywhere their bodies touched, she noted all of it passively with that same mask of imperturbability. What she felt -- what she thought -- remained a mystery, concealed behind a stoicism so complete as to seem like vacancy. In fact, her eyes were not lifeless, but smoldered with the intensity of a banked fire.

At last it was decided that she would accompany the pair: the black cat and his tall companion. She nodded her assent, apparently undisturbed by the prospect that she would be journeying to an unknown destination with two leery strangers.

On their way out of the Hall, she retrieved her cloak and promptly fell in step beside the two men. The heavy fabric settled around her shoulders, shrouding the extent of her armaments as readily as providing warmth. Both would help as they traversed the garbage-strewn and rat-infested streets leading them towards the heart of the slums. As a newcomer to the city, Jourin's build, the manner in which she carried herself, and the vaguely dour air around her afforded her a kind of camouflage. That was a layer of protection in and of itself.

The stolid silence was broken when Artemis spoke. Until then, she had been scrutinizing their surroundings as they walked, peering into the various pockets of gloom where danger tended to reside. His voice brought her eyes down towards his face and the troubled frown he wore.

"You are my destiny," she said simply, with neither hesitation nor artifice. As far as either one of them could tell, she was being serious and not the least bit romantic.

Jourin pulled her eyes from him and glanced slowly around them again. "I've had the same dream for months. It pointed me to this city but I did not understand for what purpose."

Beneath the cloak, mostly obscured from view, she moved a hand to a pouch on her belt. She traced the indistinct shapes through the soft leather with her fingertips.

"I wasn't even sure it was real," she continued, speaking in a voice softened ever so slightly by awe, "until I saw your face."

[Artemis Black]

Artemis felt a cold spike of ice in his gut. As the woman spoke with absolute seriousness followed by awe, he realized he’d made many mistakes. He was armorless, shirtless even, with only a single dagger in reach, and he was far enough away from others that he could be killed without a thought.

He snapped around, to look at Dáire, his eyes pleading and desperate. “I am so sorry Cundo, I won’t forget you,” he said, yanking his dagger from his pants and scrambling back to press against the wall. His mind had snapped into focus, and his thoughts were split into a thousand threads. He saw the entire alleyway and it’s contents and began to order them by importance, discarding much of it as useless noise. He felt the chill of the morning, the sweat pouring from his body, and the overwhelming pain of his chest. He couldn’t fight her, not here this close, not with this wound.

The armored woman hadn’t moved, there was no sickening tingle of magic, no snick of a sword being loosed, not even the creak of armor atop tensed muscles. She just was there, being, and he felt a wave of confusion crash over him. After three quick breaths he lowered his knife, no longer actively brandishing it but instead holding it at an angle good for an upward toss.

“What, do you believe your destiny is?” he asked slowly, his mouth completely dry and his stomach roiling. “And why do you believe it involves me?” He felt a tug and release at his temples, as if something were pulsing softly in rhythm with his heart.

[Dáire]

Dáires sense of unease had only escalated as they travelled the short distance with the stoic, eerie woman; but it went all but sky high when she finally did speak. His mind cleared in a matter of moments as he met Artemis' wild, starled gaze. His stomach near hit the floor at his words, his own daggers drawn and grasped by his sides in the same breath that the plucky thief had his brandished in the hulking womans direction.
Was that.. awe on the otherwise emotionless fighters face? Distrusting, and walking a blades edge with his temper, Dáire took a deliberate step to the side, face stoney as he positioned in such a way that he could intercept any lunge she may make towards the thief.

He flexed his fingers around the hits of his blades, their familiar weight giving his fraying nerves some comfort. He'd a known dislike for humans, and those weren't even the ones that were trained killers and impossible to read the intentions of.

[Jourin Argall]

Sure in her beliefs and the actions she had taken so far because of them, Jourin had told the truth insofar as she knew it. To have encountered her destiny after so long, when such a phenomena was considered rare among her people, was an indescribable feeling. Contrary to her outward demeanor, her relief was immeasurable.

In her joy she had, she supposed, forgotten that Iodrah's fateful wind did not find everyone.

Artemis's reaction to her admission was unexpectedly visceral. Jourin stopped in the road and watched as he and the elf retreated from her and drew their respective weapons. She made no move to pursue either of them -- although, in truth, they had not gone very far -- nor did she reach for a weapon. Instead, she remained quite still; arms at her sides, feet rooted in place.

It was difficult to say exactly what she felt in that moment. Mild disappointment perhaps, because he so clearly did not know what it meant to be a vessel as she was. And, too, a little regret for being the cause of the stricken expression twisting his youthful features.

Jourin's brown eyes slid from one man's face to the other and then back again, but continued to stand immobile. It wasn't until Artemis posed his queries, one after the other, that she dared to do anything but emulate a statue.

"You are the black cat," she said, as if that somehow explained everything.

Then, miraculously, she smiled. It was a slight thing, and it caused the scarred and puckered skin of her right cheek to flex oddly.

"Iodrah sent me a vision. In it you were a black cat with gold eyes." Jourin lifted a hand to touch her fingertips to her cheekbone, just below her left eye. "You fled from something, some danger that couldn't be seen. All around me there were other animals but they screamed like men in pain and fear."

Jourin lowered her arm, moving with marked slowness as if to show that she meant no harm. "I knew that I had to protect you -- and I have done just this morning." She paused, letting the words sink in, and then continued. "I don't know what comes next, but I feel that my fate is bound to yours."

[Artemis Black]

Artemis watched the woman, her eyes shifting around to her potential attackers but still not even a hint of fear, anger, or violence from her. She was like a bone golem, although much less innately horrifying. Then she spoke and his face twisted in a mix of amusement and confusion.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but never that,” he said, moving off the wall, but shivering slightly as the woman suddenly smiled. The shift was so complete despite being so small. It was if someone had tugged back a curtain to reveal a very different visage beneath. He winced as he felt his ribs twinge again, his entire body tensing and relaxing in some parody of readiness. He forced calm, slamming down all other emotions except calm and deadly readiness.

She spoke of Iodrah and he smirked softly, he was not unfamiliar with the faithful. They often felt called to do some service to their chosen path and this many times meant giving to the less fortunate. “So you’re an adherent to fate… and uh… time?” he asked as he wracked his brain for the information. He didn’t exactly keep up to date on the various religions. He certainly offered small prayers to Kaxitaki, but those were more mantras than any true faith. “And whatever you look to in the sky above or deep in your heart says you’re supposed to protect me. Fantastic,” he sighed and rubbed at his eyes for a moment.

“I can’t deny I appreciate the help earlier.” He looked up and locked eyes with Dáire to offer an apologetic smile. Then he whistled softly and Sir Francis snorted before lumbering forward again. The scraping of the temporary sled on the rough stone and dirt made a rather discordant sound in the silence of the alleyway. “So, you’ve got fate and all. I’m not going to send you off, I can use all the help I can get. Maybe give me a heads up if your divine instructions change though?” he offered a forced easy smile to the woman.

“I’m Artemis by the way, Artemis Black. What do they call you, if anything?” he tugged at the lead gently, directing the moose down a smaller alleyway. They were close to the destination, and would likely hear the rats soon enough given the heat of the day had yet to warm the buildings. “Because I’m feeling like you aren’t going away, and mystery woman is fun, but starting to wear on my frayed nerves. Oh, and that’s Dáire, and he’s the most important thing in the world. So maybe help him too, because if he goes into the dirt I’m likely not sticking around much.”

[Dáire]

Daire almost choked on his own tongue, his gasp of utter shock pulling the now useless lump of flesh near into his windpipe. A bare and unguarded gaze flew to Artemis’, astoundment and what may have been a soft, joyous hope lurked within the emerald flecked grey. His normally smooth gait faltered a step, which was a testament to just how off kilter he now felt. Falling into step beside the thief and he all but forgot about the strange human tagging along with them, his thoughts doing the full circle before finally focussing on her declaration. He didn't trust the religious anymore than he trusted those worshiped the coin purse. Their whims could change as easily as the wind and twice as fast. The possibility of another betraying their word made his heart clench with anxious tension. Especially when it would be tied to his thief, who he wasn't sure had the skills to fight someone such as this.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked down progressively smaller, and filthier alley ways. The smell soon amounted to an unholy stench, and as they turned a final corner he could easily discern why. The alley was dark and dingy, even with the rising sun the tall buildings surrounding them cast long shadows, bathing the space in a cloak of shadows. Questionable shapes darted within the shadows, too and from broken crates, old barrels, kegs, even a cart lay rotting towards the far end. None of that was comparable to the assault it posed on the other senses, for once he was not pleased to have the enhanced sensory abilities of the elves, his nose picking up and identifying a horrifying array of decaying and rotting sources. From that of someones discarded larder contents, the sharp and acrid tang scorching a trail down the back of his throat; to the putrid smell of decaying flesh that made his stomach roil in protest. Had he eaten that morning, he would have been adding to the filth that lay before them.

He looked to the moose, and then to the space that was available to trek through, calculating in a few short moments that Sir Francis and his sled wouldn't be making it down that questionably littered walk space.

[Jourin Argall]

While unaware of the trauma Artemis suffered in the last twenty-four hours, she still thought that he appeared to recover rather quickly. If he still didn't fully grasp the importance of what she was telling him or what it meant to her Jourin could only hope it would come in time. At that particular moment, all that truly mattered was that he accepted her.

The fact that he did so with such an utter lack of enthusiasm was just a little amusing. For the second time that day, a small smile curled the corners of her lips like a warm breeze ruffling the surface of the water. She inclined her head fractionally.

"When I know, you will know."

Introductions followed shortly, with Artemis offering up not just his name but the elf's name, too. Jourin did not react outwardly to the declaration made about Dáire's importance, although the man in question certainly did. It warranted a brief inscrutable glance at the very least. After what she witnessed back at the Hall, their feelings for one another could hardly be a surprise, but now she had confirmation if ever she needed it.

After a thoughtful pause she said, "You can call me Jourin. I will keep you both above ground for as long as I'm able."

The deeper they went into the slums, the denser the air seemed to become with the scents of decay and sewage radiating from discarded refuse collecting in piles of foul-smelling muck. All around them was a quiet that could no longer be mistaken for anything less than ominous, particularly when it gave way to the scratching, scrabbling and scraping of things that lurked just out of sight. If there were shutters on the nearby buildings, they were bolted tight to keep the danger at bay...or to hide it.

Jourin, intimately familiar with squalid conditions like this, did not balk or even wrinkle her nose at any of it. Her eyes continued their patrol of their surroundings, sweeping the various passages to the right and left of their increasingly narrow lane. Occasionally she turned her head to peer behind them. While not tense, she was poised at least to act.