POOHEAD189

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

He did not know what to say.

Well, of course he was elated. He knew in his heart she was making the right decision and he felt she knew it too, despite her fears or misgivings. But contrary to what he would have seen her act when she accepted, she was almost mechanical in her acceptance. It was underwhelming, even if it did not deter him. Galt wasn't disappointed, however. He merely felt sympathy for her. What could have her feel thus, after he knew she was as fond of him as he was with her? It worried him, really, for her sake.

And yet her acceptance made his smile bloom, even as she said it breathlessly and with only slight animation. He supposed she needed time, and at the moment, he felt anything in the world was possible. Her blush was all the encouragement he needed, though he made sure not to bounce for joy. He gave her a nod, smiling. "Purple it is. I'll see to it."

With that, he gave a half turn and offered her his hand. "We do have a ride to go on. Shall I help you on your horse, my lady?" He inquired. With or without her acceptance of the help, he would have a slightly rougher time getting on his own steed. She was a much better rider than he, truth be told. If it wasn't for his acrobatic skill set, he would make a complete fool of himself, but he could vault over pretty much anything, including a horse's back. Once mounted, he awaited her signal.

"This is your estate, I'll follow your lead. Though don't go too fast," He laughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He would refrain from speaking of the engagement for as long as he felt it necessary. He didn't wish to overwhelm her, or make her feel trodden by the decision anymore than she might feel now.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The fatigues were rancid and wet with sweat, and I wasn't entirely certain they had not soiled themselves at one point out of sheer laziness. Gritting my teeth, I donned the garb without complaint as Clara did, leaving our folded clothing with Emmaline to place inside her pack. Clara kept her carbine, but I took a fallen lasgun and kept my power sword slung across my back, donning a small, stained tarp over it as a makeshift cloak.

I lead us out of the docks, moving with a laziness and looking around with disdain smeared across my face. I found the dregs of society had a way of walking. Men who would gut you as soon as greet you moved with a subtle loathing and a bowling gait, as if gravity itself annoyed them. Clara was not a field agent, used more for security detail on Pacitus and the Caledonian when I needed her presence there, but she did well in copying my movements. The two in the back were partially cloaked by our presence at the fore, and the upended ground and constant puddles of fetid water only deepened how tired they were of this whole expedition, which was good for our cover at the current moment.

"Ska, id got the hagk!" One of the guard called, asking what I had brought them today, curiously not posing it as a question in the traditional sense.

"Jama, jis fen wobs fo boz," I remarked derisively. Hopefully if he thought the two trailing Clara and I were meant to meet their leader, they wouldn't be stopped on the way to the city.

Three of the guards glanced over at the group, but only in passing. One of the guards was squatting like a particularly ugly ape, and he peered at them suspiciously, but a slave suddenly dropping a bucket of water drew his attention back to his work. I kept myself from breathing a sigh of relief as we sauntered past the guards and made our way into the mouth of the first towers wrought of eerie looking basalt. As we stepped under the first blanket of shade, the coolness was contrasted by the feeling of anxiety that shot up my back and prickled my psychic senses. I felt very much I had stepped out of the cook pot and into the fire.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

It was hard to gauge just how long they had been running. It had been hours of walking before the skaven had attacked, and now they ran with a hurried desperation. Neil led the way with the torch, wanting to remain behind to protect Emmaline but unable to get passed the sincere fact that he was the only one who knew where to go. Gods, he hoped he knew where they were going. Once they reached the flush, go down a level and continue northward until you reached the causeway, and if he guessed correctly, it was just up ahead.

The two glanced behind themselves too many times, but so far they hadn't seen any real pursuit. Perhaps the rats had all drowned, and the last two did not want to take their chances against them. As Neil ran, the implications of what had just happened hit home. They had fought things from urban legends and lived to tell the tale. Wait until Neil told the public! He and Emmaline would be....

Disbelieved, probably.

Heinz had told him they were real, but no one trusted sewer jacks, and it was one thing to hear about it and another entirely to actually see it. A part of him didn't want to believe it. He wanted to pick Emmaline's brain on what had happened, but a light around the next corner stole his thoughts from him. They both stopped, panting hard and looking aghast at a beam of illumination breaking through a hole to the right of the stoneworks. Neil could smell wet soil and heard the trickling of water. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever experience, and he breathed in deeply for a long moment.

"We're free, Emma," He started to say, turning around just in time to see the light glint off two beady eyes and a flashing sword. Neil shoved Emmaline aside and thrust his torch into the ratman's face. It squealed like nothing he had ever heard, dropping its shield and wriggling on the ground, it's paws batting at its scorched snout like the flailing of a dying cockroach. Another ratman was there, chittering and leaping over its comrade at Neil.

Emmaline screamed an incantation, and the ratman, sword leading, suddenly dropped like the scimitar in its hand had become an anvil. It was actually hilarious, Neil thought. But he would laugh later. The thief kicked the skaven in the head once, twice, thrice, continuing until its small skull was covered in bloodied fur. He stomped on its snout for good measure, and then kicked the other flailing one too. He almost felt sorry for the vermin, but he didn't stop until Emmaline pulled at his arm.

"Neil, Neil! Let's get the fuck out of here..." She pleaded, and he nodded in agreement. He couldn't tell if the things were still alive or not, but they wouldn't be following them anytime soon. Hoisting their sacks, they made their way to the light. Emmaline groaned, complaining about the weight. "Ranald, I never thought I would have sympathy for mules, but I can't imagine carrying these any longer."

"I thought you'd handle it better than me, they're only half as big as your..." He grinned, and she pushed him. A moment further, and they were under the light of the tunnel hole. It was at Neil's eye level, and he knelt down, cupping his hands so she could step up and pull herself through, into the next chapter of their lives.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I felt a similar feeling if disgust at the sight, but I had seen many such atrocities in my short career. It never got easier to feel, but it became easier to handle and I did not skip a beat as I slid from the skiff with Garm, helping Emmaline out to mute any noise she might cause. She was brilliant but I did not think her repertoire included slinking through wetlands. We knelt beside the veritable wall that loomed between us and the blasted landscape, small rivulets in the ferrocrete between the blocks a convenient window to peer within. I waved for Clara and the others to approach, indicating with my hand signs it was safe but stealth was required. Clara acknowledged and lead the others closer a few blocks to my left.

"It did not look like this when I was last here," Garm said softly, horror in his voice.

"When were you last at this location?" I asked him, not looking away from the scene before us. I estimated there was perhaps a hundred slaves, and a quarter of that number in guards, though they were scattered over what looked to be half a kilometer. There was virtually no way beyond some psychic miracle that we could approach without being detected. Perhaps Clara could shimmy through and use her new scope to good effect, hiding in the trenches, but that would only give us a very small advantage in what would likely be a prolonged firefight.

"Three times of the sleeping moon," He whispered, squinting as he gazed up the almost eidetic spires that nearly pierced the sun. Even as he spoke, a group of five men approached from the south, across the landscape of interchanging wet and dryness. They carried lasguns and wore the same fatigues we saw of the men on the boat. It was hard to gauge from our position, but they seemed to have a much short range of open ground to traverse. If they were boat men, that meant the docks were closer. An idea began to form in my head, though it was foolhardy.

"Lazarus, I need you to remain here with Garm and Lucius. Do you have your rifle?"

Lazarus approached, unfortunately having a rough go of it like Emmaline, though it was for a reason far more similar to Lucius. The steel arms and mechanical bits on his form made him decidedly more heavy than the average man. Luckily, he had kept his transuranic arquebus in pristine condition despite the geography.

"Good, Emmaline, Selencia, and Clara are going around to the docks. You will slip in and hide in one of the trenches. I'll need your fire support if things get hairy, and I believe they will before it's all done. Lucius, protect Garm and Lazarus. If people assail your position or if you see anything beyond a man going at any of us, unleash hell. Understand?"

"Beyond a man? A xenos?" Lucius asked.

"Er, possibly." I temporized, not wanting to explain the entities of the warp to someone who had been sleeping before the Unification of Terra. "Garm, remain here. Keep your boat safe. We might be needing it soon."

"Sky one, they do not use skiffs like us. If you approach in one, they will think you are of my tribe."

"I will convince them that I have captured one." I said, looking at the women and gauging their reactions. They tried to look unworried, save for Emmaline who did not seem particularly excited. My visage softened for a brief moment, and I placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll need your help to convince whatever guard is at the dock. We'll look dirty, but we merely need to be at the dock. When he step off, we kill the guard and take their fatigues." My eyes flicked to Clara, who nodded.

"I suppose I'm coming with you because...?" Selencia asked.

I grinned. "Why, you're our doctor. There is a plague about."

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

At first, Neil thought they were beastmen. Incredibly foul smelling beastmen, Sigmar's Unbridaled Balls Neil had never thought he could smell something so rancid on a living thing! It made the sewers smell like fresh springs in a wissenland glade. Even as the light flickered and danced, illuminating mounds of fur and beady eyes streaming towards them, he wasn't sure what he was really looking at. They were rats, but they were the size of large dogs, and some moved on two legs. He saw a few carrying knives and shivs, and there was even two ratmen at the back with shields and rusted scimitars.

"No way," He said in disbelief, or was about to before the first one launched himself at he and Emmaline. Neil saw its trajectory was more aimed towards his girlfriend, and that was a big no to him. Neil shoved the rat mid-air to fall along the side of the stone's edge, as they two humans stood just at the height overlooking the huge pit where the water congregated and was redirected below, perhaps about two dozen feet. Emmaline screamed and his back foot went over the edge as the ratman tumbled and then fell headlong into the murk below, nearly skewering itself on the spike of a tall statue of Sigmar at the center of the water.

Neil grabbed her arm. She squeaked and was pulled back to a balanced position, though that left the problem of the dozen or more ratmen scurrying toward them. Neil dropped his sack, pulling out a bottle of bugman's. They had a few bottles left and it was just his fucking luck he took that and not the scented elven mead. He made a strained "ugh," before he tossed it to the floor and dropped his torch onto it. Flames leaped before the rats, but to his surprise the first four ran headlong into it. Neil picked up the back end of the bottle even as the first one jumped at him, and he sunk the glass into its chest as it scratched him, both of them dripping blood from the scuffle. Neil had the benefit of its weight sinking onto the 'bar knife' He pitched the thing end over end to fly the five strides below. Neil heard something solid hitting something solid and figured the rat didn't make it to the water.

He swung the sack at the next three rats who couldn't decide if they should put the fire on their fur out or attack, and the thief redirected the sack to land over his shoulder in readiness. "Grab onto me!" He told Emmaline. She balked for a moment, but he was proud how quickly she put on her game face and gripped him. Neil turned, hiking her legs up to wrap around his waist. This was going to hurt.

"Watch your head!" He told her.

"Ok! Ok!"

"If we die here I'm in love with you." He said quickly, and even as she cried out 'what!?' he leaped, her question turning into a scream as they sailed over the water. Even as they flew, Neil question if winging it had led to their doom. She still held her torch before them, and as the light was nearly snuffed out from the sudden rush of wind, they had a good vantage point of seeing the broken skaven below.

Skaven. They had to be skaven! Fuck me, he thought. Neil's arm shot out, and his callused hands grabbed the upraised handle of the hammer of sigmar, slinging their legs forward and giving them another boost fling their weight to hit the next floor down in a collapsing heap, their bodies and belongings shoving Neil into the wall. He felt blood leaking down his nose and his cheek smooshed against the stone, but they were alive.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Like the Sicilian Expedition of ancient Terra, we sailed to almost certain catastrophe, to ground we only marginally knew into what could be a trap. Luckily the water was not too deep for Lucius, at least the majority of the time. He was given a pair of ropes to tug on if he was in need of speed or more likely, we were in need of stopping. Garm rode at the head of our skiff, with myself and Emmaline aboard behind him, in that order. He was a hale man, but rough living and the constant struggle against his now-distant kin had made him look far more aged than his thirty years might normally tell you.

We were given a bit of supplies. What fresh water they could grant us refilled our canteens and containers, and we were gifted small fruits wrapped in leaves with the vague shape of plantains, with coarse outer skin that coated a bitter but filling meal. Before departure, our small skiffs have been sprayed with a strange musk that felt almost viscous to one's senses, but we were told it kept the bugs away and it proved a relatively truthful claim.

"Describe the landing we seek." I told Garm, who looked at me with a muted fear.

"It's an island twice the size of the one I live upon, with an area for docking on the far side across from our approach. Ever since they have been given the boats without paddles they have cleared the waters around the island of reeds and the small trees, where the ganda lizards lay their eggs this season." Garm said, sounding reservedly forlorn at what was likely a terrible tragedy to his people.

"What manner of beasts does Nagrip have in his employ?" I implored, not wanting him to dwell on the lost traditions just yet.

"Beasts that hurt the eye to see. I could not describe them if I tried." Garm said, and he shuddered at the thought. I felt a cold chill run down my spine, and my eyes dropped to my blessed power sword, the hilt protruding from our packs beneath my legs.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil knew the sewers as far as a few streets from experience, but his old friend Heinz had told him there were old, antiquated sewers that reached miles away outside of the city. Most had been demolished over the centuries, but Heinz had told him he and a few of his lads had found an exit that led past the river one day, a couple of years ago. Of course, Heinz had been drunk when he had told that to Neil, but it was either that or go back up and fight an army of thirty thousand beastmen, and Neil would rather protect Emmaline than do that.

They passed a few alcoves and grates that streamed light into the darkness, guiding their path. A few times rats scurried beneath their feet or scuttled across the narrow walkways. Neil stiffened and Emmaline squawked, but the rats were less worrisome than the shadows of violence that played against the walls every few blocks like hellish puppet shows. Only when they had made it further than Neil had ever traveled did the light fade entirely, and Neil took out a torch and lit it, illuminating the stones around them. The water had a sickly green tinge to its murk, and a few rats scampered away into the darkness.

"I could have used a spell..." She said.

"Don't want to tire you out. You've done a lot of legwork recently, remember?"

"Wasn't just my legs," she grinned, taking the torch he gave her gladly.

"Don't worry," He said, stepping in close as he placed his unlit torch against hers, the cloth igniting a great euphemism for the suggestiveness in his tone. "I'll give you another work out as soon as we're out of here."

---

Scritscrit was surprise these manthings knew where they were going. No doubt the ruckus above had led them down here, but it was by the blessings of the Horned Rat that he had discovered them with that unmistakable scent coiling around their forms. He had followed them until they had lit the dreaded torches, and he nearly expelled the musk of fear, as he had thought they had discovered him. He had silently scampered back into the shadows and listened. Clearly the male and breeder were conversing of something important, but he could not tell what it was.

He needed to go and tell a few others of his brethren, perhaps some slave rats and Ekit Scatclaw his fellow clanrat that they were heading into the old catacombs. If this manthing knew they way, they could make it into the sunlight in only a few hours. Scitscrit couldn't risk letting them get away, but the way the manthing moved, he knew it would be a fight for his life. The breeder herself just complicated things, especially with that torch. Scitscrit faded into the darkness to fetch his brothers, knowing there was only one way for the manthings to go to find freedom.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Within minutes, the warriors of this village surrounded my crew and I, spears and lasguns fitted with bayonets bristling. I had ordered everyone accompanying me to holster their weapons and try to appear as nonthreatening as possible. For the women it was easy. This hamlet was likely misogynistic and had antiquated ideas of sex, but for Lucius I had to tell him to lay his weapon down at his feet. He did so begrudgingly, even if he likely did not need it to kill everyone here.

"Uha fon eya," The chief said, roughly translating to greeting a foreigner. I responded with a local handsign of greeting, allowing him to continue. "Mahi mani tal mahi spekka soona an loona."

In fact, perhaps it would be prudent to merely translate what they were saying in their entirety in the essence of expedience. He asked me if I spoke for the gods. It was a tricky gamble on my part, as I felt almost borderline sacrilege to portray myself as such, even if it was a very crude portrayal of the divine emperor.

"Yes, I am their herald. I have come from beyond the sun to speak to the men of the swamps, but I had thought there would be more of you." I told him.

"That is why you bring such a champion," The chief remarked, stroking his chin, idly fingering one of the many piercings along his jaw. "But why did you bring the women? Are they gifts."

"I have not come to bring any gifts save the safeguarding of your home. My companions each play a part in the divine plan. But you did not answer my question." I reminded him.

The chief looked thoughtful, and I could tell he was weighing his options on if believing me would serve his purposes. Eventually he replied: "If you are who you say you are, then you are welcome. If not, we will eat you. But as for your question, a man from the sky, much like you, came many months ago and began speaking to the tribes of the forest and the swamp. Nagrip was his name, and he took my people from their sacred rituals and gave them weapons of controlled fire and boats that moved without paddles. I took what people listened to me to this small village, and here we have lay hidden."

"Nagrip," I said, pondering. No one looked at me any more thoughtfully save Emmaline, as the name sounded much like a colloquial word and her psychic abilities likely granting her some insight into my broad thoughts. "Where is this man? I would see if he is a messenger of darkness."

The chief nodded, eager to help. Like as not he was anxious to see us away, if not to solve his problems than at least to keep ourselves from becoming one. "Less than a day across the water, to the west, he makes his dwelling with our fallen kinsmen. I hear he also has foul beasts lurking near, but beware the plague. Only fire can cure it, and if you are infected, it would be best to die rather than infect your friends. We will provide you with two boats. Use them as you will."

Beasts and plague? I did not wish to believe it, but perhaps this was land had the mark of the Lord of Rot. Swamps were a breeding ground for disease regardless, and any vehicle might look like a beast to this man, so I believed I was letting my worries get to me. However, it paid to be prepared. "Thank you, we shall perform our divine duty and rid your waters of this foulness. But we do not have the power to cure the plague. It would be best if you were to move eastward as soon as possible."

"Pick up and leave?" He asked, aghast. I nodded.

"Yes, as you once did months ago. I can slay, but I cannot cure." I informed him, and got to my feet. If my hunch was correct, this swamp would remain tainted for centuries. I only hoped I was wrong, and I turned to my companions. "We're heading west."

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil was elbowed in the jaw by what he had initially thought was an imperial soldier, until he hit the ground and realized that bristling hair had covered the arm. He rubbed his face and gathered his wits as the city erupted in pandemonium around him. Screaming children and horrified men wailed. Vaguely he heard Emmaline calling for him, and that brought him back to reality. He shook his head like a dog and hopped to his feet, looking left and seeing the wall of halberdiers holding fast against the charging gors and ungors. To his right-

Neil ducked under a swinging axe, feeling the wind of the swing as the blade passed through tufts of his hair. He shoved a knife in the lone beastman's back and twisted the blade, causing it to let out a cry a pained donkey might make. Slinging his belongings over his shoulder, he ran forward across the street before it could turn to attack again, leaping over bodies and wrestling forms, smelling gunsmoke and hearing the thundering retorts of blackpowder muskets and cannons in the distance. He needed only make it another dozen feet, Emmaline's fiery head a beacon in the haze. He saw her crying out to him, holding her arm out to take. He found it was one of those moments you never forgot. He would remember her lips parted, her eyes pleading, her bosom bouncing. It was at that moment as all went slow, that a wagon being commanded by a desperate merchant with wide, insane eyes barreled between them.

"Nuh-uh," Neil muttered, running headlong into it. He tossed the sack with half of their gold, food, and clothes over the wagon moments before he slid low, right foot out and left foot in, skidding over the blessedly smooth stones of the street. Emmaline gasped as the wheels scythed across her vision of Neil, but just before the final spokes whisked by, he shot out from under it and slid to an easy stop, planting his elbow against the stone wall she clung to like he was trying to convince her of something uncouth. "Hey baby," he said with a grin.

The sack hitting him from above broke his attempt of a joke. Damn, could have sworn I tossed it with enough force so it would go passed the both of us. Well, I can practice that later, he thought. She shook her head and yanked on his shirt, Neil absently grasping the sack as they hurried down the alleyway, before they found themselves right in front of an iron grate under the shadows of the buildings, leading into the sewers.

"Now what do we do?" She asked, panting from the exertion of all the screaming and running.

"That's all you. Your magic is with metal, right?" He asked her.

"Right, right..." She said, rubbing her hands together and squatting down. In the mouth of the alleyway, man and beast fought and pushed. The two thieves almost had the view one might from a painting or mural. Neil shook his head, hoping Sigmar watched over the footmen, even if he was fully prepared to skip town regardless. He heard the culmination of her spell, and he glanced back to see iron running like liquid as the portal was suddenly open.

"Go, go!" He told her.

"No, I can't see!" She complained. He cursed, knelt down beside her, and slid in, yanking her leg so she flew in with him, squealing in fright with the belongings tumbling in with the the both of them just as the iron reset, and the grate was barred once more as if it had always been.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Further in, the swamp lived up to its name. The forest and small isles of soft earth dotted the landscape, and small mammals with six limbs scurried along the branches and shimmied up gnarled trees as we trudged through what we hoped was the most shallow of pathways through the mire. Lucius had volunteered to go first, to keep the depth of the swamp in mind. However I countermanded that and sent him to the back. Even if his height was a good gauge of testing water levels, his bulk would create holes in and of themselves, and we wished to move as stealthily as we could in the murk.

Bugs plagued us incessantly and sweat clung to our skin, but I was surprised to hear only a modicum of complaining from Emmaline and a smidgen of griping from Selencia. Clara did grouse once, but she was only concerned our current trajectory might have us be caught in a compromising position. I led us as best I could across what passed for solid ground, however, and it took another two hours before we saw another living being that was not insect or critter. If I had to guess, we were a days walk to the river and two days away from reaching any real hard ground on the opposite shore.

At first, I thought the crude boat was a part of the landscape, but at the corner of my eye I saw it lazily detached from a small tree infested piece of land, and I signaled for the group to hide as best they could. With some sloshing accompanying us, we managed to kneel behind what logs and large fungal growths we could. Lucius had to lay almost flat in the water to even scratch the surface of what I might call 'hiding,' though like an astartes, he could hold his breath far longer than a normal man and so ceased to move, his armored bulk looking like a fallen craft more than any being.

The boat's arrival was announced by the sound of a juttering engine, and from my vantage point I could see three men atop a flat surface. Their fatigues were dirties beyond excuse, even in such a locale, and two of them held lasguns in their hands, watching the ruined landscape with a lazy interest. I was too far to tell if they were mutant or merely ugly, their faces mangled from some attack or cursed to them by inbred genetics. Two minutes slid by, and the boat disappeared beyond the last vestiges of sight. I breathed a sigh of relief, and picked myself up, helping Emmaline to her feet before my lover gasped.

I turned, and swiftly approaching us were three boats, motorless and made of twine, riding low in the water and easily passing as bundles, I still cursed myself for not paying my surroundings as much attention as I could. There had to be nine of them, three to each boat, each with lasguns slung over their backs and brutally simple bits of metal curtained around them for armor. They looked like normal men as far as I could ascertain, which was fortunate. Clara popped from behind a tree, carbine at the ready. Emmaline hastily armed herself and Lucius Raj rose from the depths like a sunken god, but I held my hands out, pointing at the captain and thunder warrior specifically. "Hold! Org Hake! Org Hake!"

During the brief exchange, the locals had raised their weapons to fire, but they kept their fingers off the trigger as I called in their native tongue.

"What?" Emmaline whispered nervously.

Lazarus rose beside us, his limbs whirring and sputtering water as they began to move again. "He is speaking savage-lingua. A curious dialect of it, and if my records are correct, he would need to use utilize a few local flourishes, but it is common language on feral worlds." He explained, helpfully.

"Ock mok en oteppa!" One of the men called back, gesturing with his gun. Once more did I thank Inquisitor Kronus for a lesson that I in my youth had called useless. I could not guess if this was Kator Talon and Son’s of the Fen, but whoever they were, they had not been mutated as of yet. I gathered the one speaking was asking us for an introduction, albeit in a very threatening fashion. I complied. As I did so, Lazarus was good enough to translate.

"We have come at the behest of the moon god. We are heralds in the wake of its sleep. Have we arrived too late?... No, you have not. If you are truly a messenger, what do you seek to give us?...We wish to cure the blight on this land."

"How come you never taught this to me?" Emmaline asked softly, downtrodden. Despite myself, disappointing her did pull at my emotions, though I was a bit too happy to be conversing at the moment to be truly effected.

"I did not know if we were going to need us," I told her simply, self satisfied. "If you would like, every new locale we visit, I will demand a crash course in linguistics and any other small aspect we might need. They will be graded reports."

Despite the joke, she took my meaning. "Point taken."