[center][h1]A while ago...[/h1][/center]
[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/FRwJf2zV/sdcheader.png[/img][/center]
The man’s eyes widened as they swept over Sjan-dehk, as if seeing the swords, pistols and armour on the Viserjantan’s person for the first time. He dropped the knife, its blade clanging against stone. [color=F5DEB3]“Okay, okay, wait, I—”[/color] His words came quickly, like a torrent surging through a broken dam.

[color=1E90FF]“Let me warn you, for the first time and last time,”[/color] Sjan-dehk went on. [color=1E90FF]“Inshahri is part of [i]my[/i] crew. To obey me is her duty. To protect her is mine. Hurt her, and I will hurt [i]you[/i].”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“Alright, alright, I’m not—”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“Now,”[/color] Sjan-dehk interrupted him again. [color=1E90FF]“She says there is magic in there. I believe her. Explain. Now.”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“What fuckin’ magic?”[/color] The man’s voice grew loud, but without its earlier bluster and edge, it sounded more like a desperate wail than a threatening roar. [color=F5DEB3]“I’ve been tellin’ your girl all fuckin’ evenin’ since she and her pals got here, there’s no. Fuckin’. Magic! Nobody’s mad enough to try that shit in this fuckin’ city! Might be she heard somethin’, or thought she saw somethin’, I don’t fuckin’ know. But I fuckin’ swear to you, there’s no fuckin’ magic! The tavern’s just closed, and that’s the truth!”[/color]

[center][color=7ABAFF][i]“Trust not his lies, lost Jafin child.”[/i][/color][/center]
Once again, that womanly whisper came unbidden to Sjan-dehk’s mind. Were it not for the tense situation, he would’ve smirked. For once, it’d spoken plainly, and had said words he could agree with. The man was clearly hiding something—everything he’d done so far betrayed that fact. Proving it, however, would be far easier said than done. Sjan-dehk knew Inshahri wasn’t the sort to go around picking fights. He knew of her ability to sense arcane energy. The Caesonians didn’t. To them, she was just a strange girl accusing these men of a grave crime. 

[color=F5DEB3]“The boys and I just want to make an honest livin’, that’s all,”[/color] the man went on. His eyes shifted toward the crowd every few words. [color=F5DEB3]“We never intended to cause any trouble, never! The boss paid us good money to keep people away, and that’s what we did! We sure as fuck didn’t plan on fightin’ foreigners, gettin’ beaten up, or havin’ fuckin’ guns pointed in our faces!”[/color]

Sjan-dehk clicked his tongue and grimaced. He couldn’t understand the crowd’s murmurs, but his instincts told him that its sympathies were with the Caesonian men. The man seemed to know it as well—there was a shine in his eyes, and a ghost of a smile on his lips when he looked at Sjan-dehk. 

[color=DC143C]“Ye’re still stickin’ wi’ that gobshite o’ a story? Cannae say I’m nae impressed wi’ yer determination.”[/color]

Cynric’s playful lilt sliced through the tension with ease. Sjan-dehk glanced over his shoulder. Behind him, Dahsahn’s men had two of the other Caesonian thugs held at gunpoint. Inshahri was with Yasawen, along with the other two arcanists, hiding behind Iyen. At their feet was the third thug, his body still as the stones it laid upon, and a bloodied rock by his head. The crowd had grown to a thronging mass, but Cynric’s crew did a fine job of holding it at bay. 

And through it all, [i]Recompense[/i]’s captain strolled over, his hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket and a nonchalant air about it.

He stopped beside Sjan-dehk. [color=DC143C]“Sorry, Cap’n,”[/color] he said. [color=DC143C]“I thought things were’nae gae’n yer way, so I came o’er wi’ our fellas. Hope ye dae’n mind.”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“No, not at all,”[/color] Sjan-dehk replied. He tilted his head towards the man. [color=1E90FF]“You were saying something?”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Aye, I was,”[/color] Cynric said. He turned to the man on the ground, fixing him with a look that was both amused and disappointed. [color=DC143C]“Y’know, folks like ye used tae put actual effort intae their lies, aye they did. Used tae be that ye’d ‘ave tae be a wee bit clever tae dae this kind ‘o work.”[/color] He chuckled and shook his head. Then, he gestured to the tavern. [color=DC143C]“Come now, use yer ‘ead, aye? There’s nae a tavernkeeper who’d close their doors on an evenin’ as busy as this, aye there’s nae. Ta’ whole feckin’ place could be on feckin’ fire, and ye man would still be servin’ brews frae ta’ ash heap.”[/color]

The thug bared his teeth. [color=F5DEB3]“You shut your—”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Nae, I dae’n think I will, pal,”[/color] Cynric cut in, an impish smile growing on his face. [color=DC143C]“‘Cause e’en if ta’ keeper was awa’, they would’nae spend good money hirin’ folks tae jus’ stand at ta’ door tellin’ people tae feck off, would they?”[/color] He shifted his attention to the crowd. [color=DC143C]“I dae’n know about ye lot, but all ta’ tavern’s I’ve been tae jus’ lock ta’ doors an’ ‘ang a sign tellin’ folks tae try their luck some other day when they’re closed. Any o’ you e’er seen one that hires fellas tae chase folks awa’?”[/color]

More murmurs rippled through the crowd, but nobody gave Cynric an answer. 

[color=DC143C]“I thought nae,”[/color] Cynric said. He walked over to the man, kicked the knife away, and squatted beside him, a confident air about him, and a look that made it clear that he knew he’d won. [color=DC143C]“So, ye still thinkin’ o’ stickin’ tae yer story, or are ye ready tae tell ta’ truth?”[/color]

The man’s eyes nervously flicked over to Sjan-dehk, then returned to Cynric.

[color=DC143C]“I mean, we can aw’ways break a few fingers tae get started, if ye prefer. It’d match ye nose pret’y nicely, if ye dae’n mind me sayin’. Personally though, I’d jus’ talk an’ save e’erybody ta’ trouble…”[/color] He trailed off and made a show of slowly reaching for the man’s hand. [color=DC143C]“But if a bit ‘o pain’s what’ll make ye talk, then I’m nae gae’n let that stop wee ol’ me, aye I’m nae.”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“Okay, I’ll talk!”[/color] The man almost shrieked as he pulled his hand back. 

Cynric chuckled and stood back up. [color=DC143C]“That’s a good lad,”[/color] he said before beckoning Sjan-dehk over. [color=DC143C]“Looks like ye man’s ready tae sing.”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“Thank you,”[/color] Sjan-dehk replied. Then, he turned to the man. [color=1E90FF]“Explain everything. Now.”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“I–I really don’t know much, and that’s the truth,”[/color] the man said. His eyes widened when he saw Cynric sigh and crack his knuckles. [color=F5DEB3]“Wait, wait! That doesn’t mean I don’t know anythin’! The boys and I were hired by another gang to stand guard out here!”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“Another gang?”[/color] Sjan-dehk’s eyes narrowed. [color=1E90FF]“How many are there? Do they have magic?”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“I don’t know, I didn’t count,”[/color] the man replied. [color=F5DEB3]“Maybe twelve? Fourteen? But they’ve got a witch, that’s for fuckin’ sure. I never liked that bitch, honest.”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“The one you call…Witch.”[/color] The word left a poor taste in Sjan-dehk’s mouth. It’d been a long time since any Viserjantan arcanist had been labelled with such an insulting term. [color=1E90FF]“You know what she can do? You know what she is doing right now?”[/color]

The man shook his head. [color=F5DEB3]“T-They never told me the whole plan, so no, I don’t,”[/color] the man said. Displeasure flashed across Sjan-dehk’s face, and he quickly added, [color=F5DEB3]“B-But they did tell me that she’ll keep people from lookin’ in and lookin’ out. Cut the tavern off from the world, that’s what they said! T-That’s why they needed the boys and I to keep people away. Otherwise it might break the illusion, that’s what I was told!”[/color]

[color=1E90FF]“And they do this…Why?”[/color] Sjan-dehk asked. 

[color=F5DEB3]“They’re…”[/color] The man trailed off and averted his gaze. [color=F5DEB3]“They’re robbing the place.”[/color]

Cynric gave a short laugh. [color=DC143C]“Feck me, usin’ magic fer a robbery? That’s a wee bit much, aye? An’ what’s ta’ cut they promised ye and ye lads fer ye troubles?”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“They said…Twenty percent, I think? Split among the four of us.”[/color]

Cynric guffawed. [color=DC143C]“[i]Twenty[/i]? Ye’d be lucky tae see five, pal.”[/color] The man stared at him, confused. With a shake of his head, Cynric sighed and went on. [color=DC143C]“Think about it fer a moment, pal. Twenty fer standin’ aroun’ dae’n feck aw’? That’s a feckin’ lie if I e’er saw one. An’ ye said it yersel’, ye lot were ‘ired, ye’re nae wi’ ‘em frae ta’ beginnin’. Tae those inside dae’n ta’ robbin’, ye’re jus’ feckin’ tools. If ye think they’d gee’s tools a whole twenty percent cut, then ye’re a feckin’ idiot.”[/color]

The thug opened his mouth to protest, but Cynric cut him off. [color=DC143C]“If ye’re nae tools, then ye’d nae be out here gettin’ feckin’ thrashed, aye? Ye’d be in there wi’ ‘em, dae’n the actual robbin’ and hirin’ other idiots tae be punchin’ bags fer my pal an’ ‘is people.”[/color]

[color=F5DEB3]“It’s good money…”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Money ye’re ne’er gae’n see, pal,”[/color] Cynric said. [color=DC143C]“Look, let me spell it out fer ye. Frae here on out, only one o’ two things’ll ‘appen. One, ta’ robbery goes ‘aff wi’out a hitch. Ye’ll gae tae meet yer bosses, an’ ye know what they’re gae’n dae? They’re gae’n tell ye that ye’re nae gettin’ yer twenty, ye’re gettin’ five. What’re ye an’ ye pals gaen’ dae about it? They’ve got a feckin’ witch an’ all ye’ve got is four lads sharin’ a knife. Ye’ll be turned intae feckin’ paste if ye try tae argue.”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Two,”[/color] he went on. [color=DC143C]“Ta’ lot o’ ye get caught. Considerin’ ta’ crowd we’ve got ‘ere, ye really think ta’ ye pals are gae’n walk out o’ there wi’out anyone noticin’? Sooner or later, they’ll get caught, an’ ye’ll be caught wi’ ‘em, I promise ye. Dae’n feckin’ forget, ye’re nae jus’ scrappin’ or robbin’, pal. Ye’re workin’ wi’ a witch, an’ we aw’ know what ‘appens tae those who work wi’ witches, aye?”[/color]

The man gulped. [color=F5DEB3]“T-They…”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Burn wi’ ta’ witches, aye,”[/color] Cynric finished for him. [color=DC143C]“Or they get ta’ drop. Either way, ye’ll nae ‘ave much o’ a life left.”[/color]

Colour drained from the thug’s face. The gathered crowd’s unease was palpable.

[color=DC143C]“I’ll gee’s ye a chance now,”[/color] Cynric said. [color=DC143C]“Take ye pals an’ feck off.”[/color]

He turned around and looked at Sjan-dehk. [color=DC143C]“Ye’re fine wi’ that, Cap’n?”[/color]

Sjan-dehk nodded. As unpleasant as he found these thugs, and as much as he wanted to hand them over to the authorities, they weren’t his main concern anymore. The rogue arcanist inside was. The faster these thugs made themselves scarce, the better. [color=1E90FF]“Yes, that is fine. They can go.”[/color]

The man gulped, and for a while, the only parts of him that moved were his eyes as they flickered between Cynric and Sjan-dehk, as if he expected this to be a trick. Only when Sjan-dehk tilted his pistol up, pointing its muzzle away from him, did he scramble to his feet. His knife lay forgotten as he shouted for his fellows, his words hurried and—thanks to his ruined nose—garbled. The two held by Dahsahn’s men backed away from the rifles, slowly and carefully at first, then with quicker, hastier steps when they were sure that those blackened muzzles wouldn’t follow them. 

With that, the three of them rushed over to their unconscious friend. After a bit of squabbling, they carried him together and retreated down the street. The crowd parted as the group shouldered their way through. 

Sjan-dehk and Cynric watched them until they disappeared from view. [color=DC143C]“So, uh,”[/color] the latter started, stopping to clear his throat. [color=DC143C]“Ye’ve, ah, ye’ve got fellas who can dae magic?”[/color]

That got Sjan-dehk’s attention right away, and he snapped his head around to look at him. Unease settled in his stomach, and he tightened his grip on his pistol. 

[color=DC143C]“I saw ye lad send a rock intae a man’s ‘ead,”[/color] Cynric continued, nodding first toward Yasawen, then to the rock on the ground, still dark with blood. [color=DC143C]“I’ve seen plenty o’ weird shite in my time, but a feckin’ rock takin’ fligh’ an’ feckin’ a man up? That’s new tae me, aye.”[/color]

A thousand thoughts flooded Sjan-dehk’s mind at once. His jaw tightened. Cynric had been friendly to him and his crew so far, but he was still a Caesonian. Did he share his people’s opinion on magic? Or perhaps this was his way of warning that Yasawen had been seen, and not just by him? Was Yasawen—and other arcanists, for that matter—now in danger? There were too many questions, too many uncertainties floating in Sjan-dehk’s mind, and far, far too many things he didn’t know. 

But he could find one thing out now, at least. [color=1E90FF]“Yes,”[/color] he said, steel in his voice. [color=1E90FF]“Is that a problem?”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Nae, nae,”[/color] Cynric replied quickly, his hands raised in front of him. [color=DC143C]“‘Tis ta’ opposite, actually, aye. Cannae say I’m fond o’ witch-hunts mysel’, an’ ‘tis aw’ways grand tae meet someone o’ ta’ same mind.”[/color]

Sjan-dehk relaxed slightly. [color=1E90FF]“Is that so?”[/color]

Cynric nodded. [color=DC143C]“Aye. Nae aw’ o’ us like ta’ crown’s big ideas, y’know?”[/color]

That would have to be assurance enough—for now. Sjan-dehk supposed that had Cynric meant any harm, he could’ve simply kept quiet about Yasawen and waited until a later time to report the boy’s actions to the city guard. That he’d taken the trouble to sound a warning had to count for something. Sjan-dehk returned his pistol to his holster. [color=1E90FF]“Later,”[/color] he said. [color=1E90FF]“We will talk more later.”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Aye, we should,”[/color] Cynric replied. He turned to the tavern, his hands resting on his hips. [color=DC143C]“We’ve got one big fecker o’ a mess tae deal wi’ first, aye? Ye’ve a plan, Cap’n?”[/color]

That was a very good question. Sjan-dehk wished he had a good answer.

The sensible thing to do—the [i]smart[/i] thing to do—would be to simply turn around and walk away. He’d only intervened because Inshahri had been in trouble, after all. Now that the thugs had been dealt with and she was safe, he hadn’t any reason to involve himself any further. Caesonian criminals preying on Caesonians in their own taverns was unfortunate—sad, almost—but it was something for Caesonian authorities to deal with. Not him. Not any Viserjantan.

[center][color=7ABAFF][i]“Wouldst thou abandon them to the mercy of the wicked?”[/i][/color][/center]
That whispering voice slipped between Sjan-dehk’s thoughts again, its question soft and gentle, yet edged with admonishment. Its words stung, but try as he might, he couldn’t deny its truth. His gaze turned toward the tavern, at its windows that—as he only now realised—were far too dark. Whatever magic Inshahri had sensed had to be powerful, and had to be extracting a terrible price from those trapped inside. Knowing all this, how could he ignore their plight? To do so would be wrong. Immoral, even.

[center][hider=The Way of the Open Sea]
[color=7ABAFF][i]Turn none away, for the First of the Jafins accepted all;

Be fluid in style, for the sea is formless;

Be unrelenting in force, for the sea is merciless;

The open sea is home to all;

The Mother knows her own children, even if they know not her;

And so in her name,

Render aid to the helpless, for one day you shall also be helpless;

This is the Way of the Open Sea[/i][/color][/hider][/center]