I am not fine. Everything is awful. Why did I accept this job?
Focus! Uh… patterns. Look for patterns! Alkara reminds herself. Her eyes furiously search the second story floor of the abandoned building for anything that might give her a clue. There are no freaking patterns! It doesn’t help that her vision is blurred from one of the poisons the little monster had decided would be entertaining to throw at her. Literally. She’d opened a door and the goop had been flung right in her eyes. She hadn’t even heard the mechanism spring. She feels so stupid. One would think living with Chiron and Uncle Iro would have prepared her better for this. And she desperately wishes, not for the first time, that one of them were here. They’re the trap experts. And they don’t just save their traps for their enemies. They’re constantly setting prank traps at home. She should be better than this. She growls in exasperation as she slowly makes her way into the room.
And then on top of all that, she’d been separated from Guenwyvar. She’d actually spotted a pressure plate this time… but there’d been a second one, triggering a portcullis, with Alkara in front and Guen behind. But at least her companion would be safe. And hopefully watching for any potential escape routes this thing might take.
Her foot slips on something and she tries to regain her balance as the floor crumbles away underneath her. “Oh no,” she groans, desperately trying to back up. But the floor behind her is crumbling too. She grabs for any sort of purchase but tumbles down the decline and lands hard on the floor of the room below, adding yet more scratches and bruises to the ones she’s already collected.
She quickly scrambles back up to her feet and dusts herself off with a frown as she looks around. At least her vision is starting to clear. Not by much. But it’s better than nothing. She notes the rope that leads to a trap door in the vaulted ceiling and a horizontal bar in a wall that looks like she should be able to press it down.
Something that she does find curious is that all the traps so far have been… less than lethal. She gets the distinct impression she is being toyed with, and she isn’t looking forward to when the thing that’s toying with her decides it’s done. Considering what she’d found of the previous team that had apparently been sent out here after this thing, it would, for whatever reason, at some point decide it was done. Broken weapons, a bloodied pack, used rope, a discarded tinderbox… and an arm.
Judging by the amount of blood left on the ground and the tracks she’d found, the unfortunate individual had had friends who’d managed to stop the bleeding and drag them away. It had looked like they’d gotten out. But still… She grits her teeth. As much as she hates to admit it, Sengmar might be right this time. Something is definitely off. Charlotte wouldn’t have sent her out here alone after the thing had scared off an entire team… would she have?
Table that for later. Focus Alkara. She hears the command in Uncle Iro’s gravelly voice and moves cautiously into the room. She walks up to the rope leading up to the trap door and tries pulling on it. Nothing. Okay. She goes over and pushes the bar down, and hears something in the ceiling that sounds like it’s sliding into place. She pauses to consider for a moment, then lets go of the bar, and runs over quickly to pull the rope, trying to pull it before the mechanism resets. Not fast enough. Hmm. She tries running back and forth a couple times before realizing that’s definitely not going to work. Maybe Chiron could do it, but she’s just not fast enough.
As she stands in the room, staring hard at the rope, a new thought pops into her head. She walks over, grabs the rope, and pulls it toward the bar in the wall. As she stretches and reaches as far as she can, she realizes that the air feels thicker, and starts to cough on the fumes now spreading through the room. Uh oh. She reaches for the bar one more time before finally admitting to herself that this isn’t going to work either.
Coughing, she pulls her cloak over her face, trying to protect herself from whatever is now in the air. She looks back and forth, scouring the room again to see if there’s anything she can use. She hears a flame ignite behind her and watches in horror as the line of flame starts to circle the room. Shit. Guess the thing is done.
One last idea pops into her head. She has no idea if this will work, but the fire is starting to close in, and she realizes that eventually it’s going to cut her off from the bar lever in the wall. She pulls an arrow out of her quiver, pushes the bar down, and jams the arrow into the wall, trying to force it to stay down. She lets go and runs toward the rope, but hears the arrow snap quickly and by the time she pulls on the rope the mechanism has locked itself again. She releases a wordless cry of frustration, which just leads to another round of coughing. And it feels like the toxin is making her slower. Great. Think, Alkara, THINK. She slings her bow off and looks at it for a moment. If it’s a choice between keeping the bow Uncle Iro had given her and dying, she knows which one they’d both prefer. All the same she hesitates.
Wait. What if…? She can’t stop coughing now. She slings her bow back in place and grabs a handful of arrows, ties them together with some rope, severs it from her supply, and runs back to the bar lever. She pushes the bar down and jams the bundle of arrows into the wall. Looks like it should hold this time. Almost doubled over from coughing, she stumbles over to the rope and pulls. The trap door opens and a shaft of light pours into the the smoky room.
Thank Urdima. Now she just has to climb. She hopes she can manage that. Maybe as she gets higher it’ll be easier to breathe. But as she climbs, the air doesn’t get much clearer thanks to the smoke. She feels her arms tire quickly but makes good time. Struggling to keep her pace, she looks up when she notices the light from the trap door dim a little. She’s almost to the trap door and she sees the little creature she’d been sent to capture looking down at her. It definitely looks like some sort of small monkey. But another thing it seems Charlotte neglected to tell her is that the little monkey thing was also clearly aberrant. And she swears it looks amused. An anxious thought crosses her mind and she doubles her efforts to climb up the rope. She’s so close. She sees the creature suddenly look over at something outside, then look back down at her and cut the rope, her fear realized.
With a cry Alkara reaches for the trap door hanging down, just barely managing to grab it in time. Her arms and hands are trembling now, and her shoulder are burning. She grimaces. If she falls, maybe she can tie a rope to an arrow? But there’s no way that would hold her weight. Focus! If you climb you won’t have to worry about that! She grunts and tries to hold her breath to avoid coughing and reaches for the next purchase she can see on the trap door. She tries to secure her handholds as her lungs insist on expelling the toxic air within them. She looks up, smoke stinging her eyes, and groans as she reaches for the next handhold. Just one more.
She reaches up and her olive-brown hand finds purchase on the lip of the roof, but she’s no longer certain she has enough strength left to pull herself out the rest of the way. She grits her teeth and looks down, trying to see if she can find purchase on the trap door with her feet, when she feels a strong hand clasp her forearm. Her head snaps back up, and she inhales quickly with surprise but then descends into another coughing fit.
“Climb!” Uncle Iro barks. Alkara reaches up for the lip in the ceiling with her other hand, feet still scrabbling for purchase on the trap door. Arms trembling quite badly, she tries to pull herself up, and only just manages to get an elbow onto the roof with Uncle Iro’s help. When he finally pulls her up the rest of the way, she collapses onto her back on the roof, still wracked with coughing.
“What…?” She manages as her coughing starts to subside and she catches her breath, “What… are you doing here?”
“Oh yes, very nice. Good to see you too, Alkara.” Uncle Iro chuckles.
Still breathing hard lying on her back, “Sorry Uncle… thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on,” He says lightly as he reaches down a dark blue hand to help her up. “This building is still on fire. And the creature went this way.” Iroshi heads to the edge of the roof, secures a rope, and quickly slides down, with all the grace and elegance one would expect from someone who’s half elf, half dark elf.
“Great. More climbing,” Alkara grumbles, still coughing a little. She definitely doesn’t make it down as gracefully as Uncle Iro does, but she feels like she has a good reason for that.
Iroshi turns and snaps the rope a couple of times until it falls. He quickly coils it up, stows it, and turns to Alkara. “Where’s Guenwyvar?”
“We got separated. This thing loves its traps. Though that was the first one it tried to kill me with, which is weird. This whole mission has been weird.”
“Hm,” Iroshi arcs an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and a sarcastic look on his face.
“What?” Alkara asks defensively, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the conversation from the previous evening.
Iroshi just shakes his head, “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s find your quarry before it can lay more traps.” He kneels down to find its tracks and follows them back toward Three Rivers.
Alkara braces herself for another gamut, thinking at least with Uncle Iro here she won’t blunder into so many of them. But as they jog around a corner she’s surprised to see Guen up ahead, batting at something she’s got pinned on the ground with her paws. “Guen!” Alkara dashes up to her, first noticing the deep growl emanating from Guen, and then noticing that Guen also looks rather irritated. She continues to paw and nip at the creature, and Alkara is pretty sure if she doesn’t take it away, Guen will finish it off.
All the same she breathes a sigh of relief, not to mention a fair bit of vindication, when she sees it’s the aberrant monkey creature she was sent to capture. “Good girl, Guen. You okay? What’s wrong?” She kneels down and scratches her behind the ears. Taking a closer look at the creature, Alkara realizes that the little guy is, frankly, adorable. Even though it’d tried to kill her. It looks up at her shyly with its big eyes, and it holds the leather pouch it had stolen close to its chest. Its brown fur is a little matted, almost wet-looking, and flecked with dirt, and the thing looks… well it looks fast. And sneaky. No wonder she hadn’t managed to see it, especially as she was dealing with all the traps.
She grabs rope out of her pack and kneels down to restrain it completely, while Uncle Iro keeps watch. But as she binds the creature she notices her hands start to burn and turn red. “What the hell?”
She sneezes and her eyes are becoming increasingly itchy and difficult to see as she tries to finish quickly. She snags the leather pouch out of the things paws and tucks it into her pack, just in case the creature escapes again. Somehow. Thankfully it’s small enough that she’s able to bind it all the way from neck to feet and still have some rope leftover so that she can carry it without touching it. When she’s satisfied with her work, she looks at her hands.
But once again, she can’t really see anything. Her vision continues to blur until she might as well be blind, and the burning in her hands and her eyes continues to climb. “Uh. Uncle Iro?” Trying to keep the worry out of her voice.
She hears him step over to her and give a low whistle. “That looks painful.”
“It does. I can’t… see anything. Is the… creature’s binding… okay?” She ends with a gasp. The burning is starting to make it difficult to think, let alone speak.
Uncle Iro chuckles and murmurs a brief supplication to Urdima. The burning begins to fade and her sight begins to clear. She exhales in relief and she hears Uncle Iro murmur the same incantation over Guen, who’d finally started yowling.
Alkara shuffles over to Guen while her vision clears, “I’m sorry girl, you’ll be okay. Shhh…” Alkara looks up at Uncle Iro, who still looks kinda fuzzy, and smiles with a combination of gratitude and embarrassment, “Thank you Uncle.”
“You’re welcome. Though you really should have something to deal with poisons Alkara.” She can hear the smile in his voice as he slowly comes into focus.
Alkara shrugs, “That’s what Dre is for. You’re always saying ‘trust your team,’ ‘lean on your team.'” She says in her best impression of her Uncle.
That makes him laugh, “Yes, but your team is not here. How long has it been since you were given a solo job?”
Her vision finally clearing enough to check and make sure the bindings are, indeed, secure, she shrugs. “A couple years maybe. Probably not since things with Kierra went south.” She looks up at her Uncle in question. “Why?”
Iroshi hums thoughtfully, then shrugs and says, “Just curious. Get that thing back to Charlotte, then come straight home. We’ll talk more then.” He pulls her in for a hug. “Now let’s get back across the river before we lose more light.”
Alkara scowls, but hugs him back. Always keeping secrets. He smirks and ruffles her hair, then turns toward the city. She kneels down to check on Guenwyvar, “You feeling better girl? Ready to go?” Guen gives an affirmative snuff. Alkara takes a few moments to scratch Guen between the ears and down her back, “Good. Let’s go.”
The trip across the river and through the city doesn’t take long. Uncle Iro disappears somewhere along the way. The sun sinks below the horizon as Alkara crosses the threshold of the Rook’s Rapid Retrievers guild hall. She heads straight for Charlotte’s office. She ignores the receptionist at the desk, gives a cursory knock before walking straight in, past the person in the chair, and dropping the creature on Charlotte’s desk. She takes a step back and crosses her arm, “Alright Charlotte, what’s the deal?” She vaguely registers that Guen is growling behind her.
Charlotte glares at her. But it’s the person in the chair who speaks.
“My, my. In all these years, you haven’t learned any manners at all, have you?” Kierra says in a flat, unamused voice from the chair. “Nor have you learned to bathe regularly. I had hoped you would learn more from your time with me than just archery. But perhaps, in this, you really are hopeless.”
Alkara bristles with irritation but she doesn’t even turn to look at Kierra. “What’s she doing here?”
Charlotte continues to glare at Alkara, “We’re busy, Alkara. Get this thing off my desk and go wait in the mess hall. I’ll send for you when we’re done.”
“You attacked two of my men, Alkara.” Kierra says calmly, “While I am grateful that you have shown them to be in need of yet more combat training, I cannot allow the matter to go unaddressed.”
Alkara looks over her shoulder at Kierra with scorn, “Listen Kierra–“
“You are a reflection of your guild Alkara.” Kierra cuts her off sharply, “Your guild and your family. Whether you were there on official Retriever business or not is irrelevant. You have now put Charlotte and the Retrievers in quite the predicament. How is Charlotte to ensure your contracts are fulfilled while the Waste Walkers are suspended?”
“SUSPENDED?!” Alkara finally whirls to face Kierra fully. Guen releases a small snarl.
“Kierra!” Charlotte snaps. “I did not agree to that. We’re hardly finished,” She looks pointedly at Alkara and then back at Kierra, “And I am not yet convinced that the Retrievers owe the Northern Blackshaw Company any reparation at all, let alone the suspension of one of my best teams.” She looks back at Alkara, “Now, Alkara, please take this creature to a holding cell and wait in the mess hall. Get some food. You look like hell.”
Alkara looks at Charlotte, mouth pressed into a firm line, then stiffly nods and picks up the creature. “Come on Guen.” She says as she heads to the mess hall. The creature would probably ruin some peoples’ appetites, but she doesn’t care. She isn’t letting this thing out of her sight until the contractors come to pick it up.
When she gets there she realizes that she doesn’t have much of an appetite, so she orders some watered down ale. Alkara is well aware of her temper. Uncle Iro won’t let her forget it. But for some reason it’s so much harder to keep it reigned in with Kierra. Alkara snorts bitterly into her ale. For some reason. She knows why. But she tries not to think about it. All thinking about it does is hurt. And make her more angry.
And she’s not stupid. She knows she pushes peoples’ limits. But even when she goes into meetings trying to follow Sengmar’s advice of playing nice and polite, especially with Kierra, the façade falls apart so quickly she might as well not be trying. There just isn’t any point.
Still more valuable than trouble. Alkara enjoys the position she’d found herself in. With the guilds siphoning more and more power away from the local nobility, both parties needed people they know can’t be bought by the other side. Alkara smirks. Oh the disappointment she’d caused. Stupid political games. She has no patience for them.
Though… she hadn’t had as many jobs from the other guilds after she’d turned Kierra in for decimating that farm. But the local barons and viscounts had noticed and taken to hiring Alkara and the Waste Walkers more and more often. When they aren’t out in the Wastes.
And Kierra hadn’t even taken that hard of a hit. She’d managed to throw a lieutenant under the wagon, so to speak. So the Northern Blackshaw Company continued to tighten its grip on Three Rivers with Kierra at the helm.
Wonder what she promised the Earl to get out of that, Alkara thinks.
The Earl had been grateful enough for the information Alkara had given him. Alkara had thought for sure it would be Kierra’s undoing. Instead, all Kierra had gotten a slap on the wrist.
Alkara growls into her ale, not even registering the looks she gets from the other members in the hall. She doesn’t think the Earl is completely in Kierra’s pocket, but at least Alkara knows that she can’t count on him to deliver justice when the guilds are involved. Which is maddening. He’s plenty happy to deliver overzealous justice to anyone who wrongs him personally. Alkara had thought for sure that she’d presented the case in a way that he’d see Kierra’s leadership in the same light.
But no. Kierra had gotten away with murder. Slaughtering an entire family. Just because the farm had been in her way. It makes Alkara shake with anger.
But… when the anger burns away late at night and she’s trying to fall asleep, Alkara misses Kierra badly. She misses getting to talk to her. Misses the way she listened and gave her advice.
It hadn’t been until after she’d refused Kierra’s assignment of torching the farm herself, the feeling of betrayal when she’d seen the burning homestead, and the deep sense of misery she’d felt when turning Kierra in, that she’d realized how close they’d become.
Uncle Iro had seen it coming. Had tried to warn her. Alkara hadn’t listened. It had been a painful lesson.
No love for people in power. We “little people” have to look after ourselves.
So that’s what Alkara does. She tries to take care of the people in whatever ways she can.
Alkara snorts. She’s not really that magnanimous. She loves the risk and reward of venturing out into the Wastes. The thrill of battle. The post-win high. It just so happens that that helps keep people safe.
But… she has to admit that something had started to shift at some point. Because one day she’d seen a notice telling guild members to avoid the south road. That a team was being sent to take care of an aberrant creature harrying travelers. Then the next day, another notice about a caravan that had been slaughtered by aberrants on the road, that same road, and no one had been there to defend them. Shortly afterward, the Northern Blackshaw Company cited the incident as reason to raise their prices. All those people dead and conveniently raised prices afterward. She doesn’t have any proof, but to Alkara, it’s the farm all over again. And that deep, crimson anger had resurfaced.
And it hadn’t been because she’d missed the fight.
She’d sworn to act the next time she saw a notice like that. It’s the least she can do. And it would help her blow off some steam, she thinks as she swallows her last bit of ale. Seeing Charlotte’s assistant no where in sight, Alkara signals for another.
It’s an hour before Charlotte sends for her. Alkara hasn’t really calmed down all that much, but she tries a little harder before making it back to Charlotte’s office. She mostly succeeds. Which is good because she’s pretty sure Charlotte is gonna be pissed.
She is.
As Alkara enters the office, Charlotte curtly says, “Sit.”
Alkara sits in the chair that Kierra had been sitting in, trying not to look sorry for what she’d done. It’s one of the things she hates about Kierra. She always manages to make Alkara feel guilty. Alkara tries to go on the offensive, “Why didn’t you tell me another team had been sent after this thing?” She gestures to the creature she’d placed a little more gently on Charlotte’s desk this time.
It works. Charlotte starts a little, her eyebrows raised. “Another team? What do you mean another team?”
“Someone else had been out there, presumably trying to find this thing. I found traces of them all along the trail, including one of their arms. The contract said this thing was non-lethal and non-violent.”
Charlotte frowns, “That’s what we were told. And while it’s not unusual to take out a second contract after the first one falls through, it is odd that they didn’t tell us that the first team had suffered injuries. And I certainly wouldn’t have sent you alone if I’d known that were the case.” Charlotte folds her hands in front of her mouth, “Perhaps we can make some inquiries when the contractors return to pick up the creature.” She rifles through some pieces of parchment and holds one up, reading through it. “Krause’s Kiln and Carpentry…” She scans the parchment a bit longer, then looks up, “You have the pouch as well?”
Alkara reaches into her pack and pulls out the pouch, handing it to Charlotte carefully. “This little guy is very fast, and very tricky. I thought it best to keep them separate in case it escaped again.” They both look at the creature as it looks between the two of them with its wide, big eyes. Alkara really wishes it didn’t look so cute. It’s almost hard to remember it had tried to kill her.
Charlotte sighs, “Look, Alkara. I know you and Kierra don’t get along, but I need you to try a little harder to not piss her off. You know she’s been keeping tabs on you, even after your falling out with her. And as far as I can tell, she genuinely wants the best for you.”
Alkara snorts with derision, “Please. Kierra says she wants what’s best for everyone, but then conveniently forgets the ones who are in her way. All Kierra wants is power. She’s no different from any local baron.”
Charlotte presses her lips together and exhales through her nose, “I wish that were true.” She gives Alkara a hard look, “You’re lucky she didn’t insist that I suspend the Waste Walkers. She could make our lives a living hell if she wanted to. You know that right?”
“Yeah, and it’s not right. And you kowtowing to her doesn’t help fix anything.” Alkara retorts.
“Call it what you want. When you’re Rook, you can spit in her face. See how far that gets you. But while I’m Rook, you’ll stay in line or having your membership suspended will be the least of your worries.”
Alkara snorts, incredulous, “When I’m Rook? I don’t want to be Rook. I’d die from having to play all those political games.” The threat isn’t lost on her. Alkara just decides she’s going to ignore it.
“That’s a shame.” Charlotte says flatly. “Because if you did, then maybe you’d realize that not everyone plays politics for personal gain. Some of us are actually trying to take care of people. And you make things difficult for us too.”
Alkara scowls and crosses her arms, sitting back in her chair, grumbling to herself. “Are we done mother?” She says the last word with exaggerated petulance.
“No. We are not.” Charlotte reaches for a small coin bag and tosses it toward Alkara. “Your pay will be docked for the next four weeks to pay for the fine for your aggression against the Northern Blackshaw Company.”
Fuming, Alkara glares at Charlotte as she reaches for the bag and tucks it into her pack. Her pay being docked is infuriating. The idea that the money is instead going to Kierra, even more so. But considering the whole team being suspended had been on the table, Alkara decides to take this without complaint. Well. Verbal complaint. Alkara stands, offers a stiff Grecian bow, and uses her snobby nanny voice, “Will that be all Rook Charlotte?”
Charlotte rolls her eyes, “Get out of here Alkara. Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Or perhaps sooner, I heard Sir Reginald is throwing a party this evening. Or… were you not invited?” Alkara forces a simpering laugh in her affected voice.
Charlotte stares at her for a few moments before she sighs wearily. “Goodnight, Alkara.”
As she leaves, Alkara continues, “Goodnight my dear! Don’t feel too badly. I’ll put in a good word for you. I’m sure you’ll be invited to the next one.” She closes the door with a grimace. It doesn’t really make her feel better. But she does get some satisfaction out of making things difficult for Charlotte sometimes. Not that she’d ever intentionally cause her too much trouble. She actually likes Charlotte. She just likes to remind people that she isn’t anyone’s puppet.
Anyone’s.
She stalks out of the hall, Guenwyvar padding silently behind her. But when the fresh, cool air outside hits her she tilts her head back to enjoy it. Not for the first time, she wonders why she even bothers working with one of the guilds. If it wasn’t for the fact that it’s basically impossible to find work if you aren’t in a guild, she definitely wouldn’t put up with all this.
She muses with disgust that she and the local nobility have something in common: they both hate how much power the guilds of Three Rivers had acquired.
“Come on Guen,” She says tiredly as she heads home. At least she has a family waiting for her. And as she thinks about their shenanigans she can’t help but feel a smile creep onto her face, almost instantly clearing her bad mood.
The Waste Walkers are an odd bunch. But Alkara likes it that way. It means people underestimate who they are and what they can do. Chiron’s too big to be fast or sneaky. Dre’s too frail and too much of a bookworm to be taken seriously in combat. Sengmar’s born and raised noble blood; everyone knows they don’t like to get their hands dirty. And Alkara’s too hot-headed to think tactically in the heat of combat.
One of the things she’s most grateful that Uncle Iro taught her is to let people make those assumptions. That was often extremely difficult for her to do, but she’d seen it help Uncle Iro time and time again while she was growing up, traveling with him. So she’d learned to keep her mouth shut.
He’d also taught them all how to work as a team. How to compensate for their weaknesses, how to use their strengths, and how to complement each other. And after seven years they’d grown pretty tightly knit. She loves it. Nothing like her old family… but she quickly shakes the less pleasant memories off. Her old family isn’t important anyway. She smiles as she arrives home. She opens the door and smells something… rather unappetizing. Oh no. “Dre, you are not cooking dinner! It’s Chiron’s turn!”
She turns to see Dreonna with her red hair meticulously braided up and out of the way as she leans over the stewing pot. She shoots her a look that says, “It’s not my fault” and turns back to mind dinner.
Chiron grins at Alkara from his cot. She scowls as she takes off her pack and heads to her own cot, Guenwyvar trailing her closely. “Chiron, do you want us all to be sick tomorrow?”
“Hey!” Dre objects indignantly, a blush coloring her pale cheeks. “My cooking might not taste any good but it’s not THAT bad! And,” She brightens considerably, “I’ve been doing some experimenting with herbs and other ingredients that should actually make it LESS likely that we get sick, tomorrow or in the future.”
Alkara gives her a flat look as she sits. “Should” is the operative word. But in all honestly, thanks to Dre, they’d all survived more poisons and maladies than most people would ever even be afflicted with. Of course, sometimes they were afflicted because of Dre. Though she’s pretty sure those had been accidents.
Sengmar, reading on his cot in his corner, says, “Leave her alone Alkara. You know Dre’s concoctions always help more than they hurt, even if they do taste terrible.” He looks up her and winks. “How’d the job go today? Did Uncle Iro find you? He didn’t tell us why he left.”
Alkara sighs, trying to wave his questions away, “He found me. The job went fine. Except for the fact that I almost died. That was fun.”
The room falls silent. Now they’re all looking at her with surprise and concern. After a few moments, Chiron looks around at everyone. “Almost died from having to hold yourself back and not kill the thing you were supposed to bring back alive?” He laughs weakly.
“I wish,” Alkara says tiredly. “You’d have loved the mission Chiron. Thing was better at traps than Uncle Iro.”
Chiron chuckles, “Not likely. Though it couldn’t have been bad considering how banged up you look. Not that that says much.” He teases.
Alkara gives an exasperated sigh as she flops onto her back. “Shut up. I did my best. At least I’m still alive.”
“Which is a shame for whoever hired you, I’m sure.” Sengmar says darkly, giving Alkara a meaningful look.
She meets his gaze for a few moments, brows furrowed, but then just shrugs. Sengmar sighs with frustration, shakes his head, and returns to his reading.
She doesn’t really know what else to do. Sengmar is always worried about her and the waves she makes. He knows more about the dangers of politics than any of them, really. But Alkara isn’t about to start tiptoeing around people just because they have power they can abuse. Maybe if she stands up to them, other people will realize they can stand up to them too. But if they all roll over and let them have their way, things will never change.
Alkara shakes head and looks around, “Where’s Uncle Iro?”
“Chatting with an old friend,” Iroshi says lightly as he walks through the front door. “Rumors about your little brawl with Kierra’s men are spreading like wildfire. As I was leaving, Cato got word that Charlotte was only docking your pay for a month. A mild disciplinary action, for which I hope you’re grateful. You’d save yourself a lot of hassle, and fines, if you could just be polite.”
Indignant, she retorts, “I am polite!” Everyone in the room stops to look at her. She flushes with embarrassment. “I am!” She insists. “When… people… deserve it…” She mutters.
The room is silent for another beat before Chiron bursts into laughter. “Oh good. I was afraid you weren’t going to finish your joke Alkara!”
Iroshi chuckles and shakes his head as he walks toward the second room, quickly flicking a throwing knife through the air and into a wall, snapping a wire Alkara hadn’t even seen.
Chiron groans from the corner, “Awwww man! How did you know that wire was there Uncle???”
“It wasn’t bad Chiron. I might have missed the wire if I couldn’t see the bucket.” He says as he disappears into the second room, chuckling to himself. Chiron’s jaw drops and Alkara can’t help a smirk. A surprisingly rookie mistake. And that wire hadn’t been cheap either.
Dre is looking at Alkara with concern as she stirs and Sengmar is pretending he’s still reading but his eyes aren’t moving and he has a deep frown on his face.
Alkara scowls and crosses her arms. She’s plenty aware of the consequences of her behavior. But she also takes more jobs than the rest to try to make up for it. She knows they don’t really begrudge her for all this. They’re a family, so they worry about her. It’s… nice. Even if it is annoying. Alkara continues to avoid Dre’s gaze until Dre finally looks back down at the stew and announces quietly that dinner is ready.
“Alkara, come here for a moment please.” Uncle Iro calls from the other room.
Alkara pops off her cot, receiving an annoyed yowl from Guenwyvar, and heads to the second room where Uncle Iro sleeps and uses the room to store… well, everything. Weapons, tools, food, records of contracts they’d taken. She peers carefully around the door frame, noting that that bucket is still there. She wouldn’t put it past Uncle Iro to have somehow rigged another wire, even in the short time he’d been in there. But she can’t see anything, so she steps into the doorway.
And gasps as she’s quickly drenched by the water in the bucket. Chiron bursts out laughing. Alkara whips around and glares at him.
“The second wire!” He exclaims as he rolls on his cot with glee. “I knew he’d left it for a reason!”
“Alkara,” Uncle Iro calls again. She turns back into the room, dripping, her cheeks on fire.
“Now that you’ve cooled off a little,” He chuckles with a twinkle in his eye, “We need to talk.”
Alkara growls in frustration as she steps further into the room. “Charlotte didn’t know anything about the previous team, or that the thing was potentially dangerous and lethal. I forgot to stay to meet the contractors. Some carpentry shop.”
Iroshi nods, a little of the amusement fading. “The company that contracted the Retrievers is a front, but Cato didn’t know for whom.” Uncle Iro sighs, “It’s too early to say whether Sengmar’s suspicions are correct or not, but it won’t hurt to heed his warning. Eventually if you’re going to piss someone off who’s powerful. Well… more than you already have. You need to make sure you’re ready for when that happens and what the consequences will be.”
Alkara sighs, “Eventually, Uncle Iro, but that could be years down the road, and… I don’t know, maybe things will be better by then.”
Iroshi cocks an eyebrow, “Better? Better how, I wonder.” But he shakes his head, “Word on the street is that the first team was sent by the Elevated Veil.”
Alkara furrows her brow, “The Elevated Veil?”
“An underground guild of sorts on the fourth river. Drug dealers.”
Alkara arcs an eyebrow. “And you don’t think the carpentry place is a front for them? Can’t imagine they’d care about a carpentry place’s trade secrets or whatever was in that pouch.”
Uncle Iro shakes his head, “Cato doesn’t think so. If I had more time, I could find out more, but I’m heading out in the morning.” He rests his chin in his hand as he leans forward and smirks, “I would prefer to come back to my family in one piece. Can I trust you to remember that, at least while I’m gone?”
“Unlce Iro! Alkara! It’s time for dinner!” Dreonna calls from the other room.
Alkara looks down and nods, her cheeks warming with shame. “Yes, Uncle. Sorry.”
Uncle Iro smiles at her kindly, “You’re walking a thin line young one. I don’t disapprove, but you must be careful.” He stands and waves his hands in a shooing motion, “Now you heard her, get in there. Though you might want to change first.” Smirking at Alkara’s still dripping clothes.
Alkara narrows her eyes at him playfully and turns to head back into the main room. Chiron snickers again when she comes back into view, but Sengmar tosses a spare tunic at her and smiles, “Here. You can borrow one of mine for now.” Alkara smiles back, “Thanks Mar.” She walks to the girls’ side of the small room divider and strips off her wet clothes while the rest of them start eating. She throws on the tunic and quickly hangs her clothes on a line outside before Dreonna can yell at her again.
As she comes back inside she hears Uncle Iro ask, “Anything I should keep an eye out for while I’m gone?”
Alkara joins the circle and Dre hands her a bowl. “Where abouts are you wandering this time?” She sniffs at the bowl warily, then tries a bite. Tastes better than it smells, but that’s not saying much.
Uncle Iro shrugs, “Some of the elves’ forest, then maybe northeast, haven’t decided yet. Might stop by Afanen. Will probably swing through Old Llandeilo. Any new spells or components you’ve got your eye on, Sengmar?”
Alkara glances at Sengmar and notices that he looks a little dazed and distracted, not to mention… is that embarrassment on his face?
“Sengmar… is everything okay?” Dreonna asks.
All eyes now on Sengmar, the fair skin on his cheeks blushing furiously, now definitely embarrassed. “I’m fine Dre.” He gives her an apologetic smile, “I guess I’m just having more trouble stomaching this one than most.” He teases. “I’m sorry Uncle, you were asking about spells. I’ve got a list, of course. I’ll make a copy for you, as well as some components Dre and I have been hoping to experiment with.”
Uncle Iro gives Sengmar a long look that Alkara finds strange, but then just nods. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Alkara furrows her brow as she tries to finish her stew without tasting too much of it. Nothing immediately comes to mind but… “Maybe a new bow?” She looks up tentatively.
Uncle Iro chuckles, “Aye. You’ve outgrown yours by a fair bit haven’t you? Might be able to find something in Afanen, I need some more arrows anyway. Though I suppose I could track down the Fiësin encampment…” He munches on some of his stew thoughtfully, “The Doësin are the better craftsbeings, but the Fiësin are better warrriors. We’ll see what happens though. How about you Chiron?”
Chiron shrugs, “I’m still trying out new things with the wire you got me last time. If you find something fun, snag it, but I have no requests.”
Uncle Iro smirks, “Easy enough.” He looks around at them all, “Promise me you’ll take care of each other while I’m gone.”
After the usual chorus of, “We promise,” Uncle Iro smiles. “Good.”
As they clean up dinner and get ready for bed, Alkara keeps an eye on Sengmar. He’s always a little reserved, but he something really seems to be bothering him tonight. She considers asking him about it, but decides to give him some space, at least until morning. Then she’d bug him about it till he spills.
That’s what family is for, right?