Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: aaron@atlantis.uucp (Aaron Humphrey) Subject: [SQ] Hidin' Out Message-ID: <1993Apr8.052912.1038@atlantis.uucp> Date: Thu, 8 Apr 1993 05:29:12 GMT Characters involved: Remi, Vanshar, the Kelsie, Bronwen, Maleiu, Trawm "How much further do we have to go?" Vanshar asked. "The smell is getting to me." The Kelsie refrained from commenting on the Rameshander's own bodily odour and said only, "We can't go out the way I came in. It's not safe, particularly dressed as you are." Remi was wearing the bloodied garb of a prison guard, and Vanshar still only his prison loincloth. "Once we get to the southside, we can get back aboveground. Bronwen is waiting for us. She'll have clothing for Remi, at least." "Good enough," Remi said, cutting off any further objections Vanshar might have had. Thus far the trio had been fairly unmolested, although the Kelsie could sense the presence of Denizar, T-Crocs, orc dogs, giant rats, and other unsavoury sewer denizens. She wondered how much longer their luck would hold. It held long enough. They reached an exit, a ladder up into a darkened alley out of sight from either Dragon's Lane or the Arcade of Unforgotten Heroes where, if all went according to plan, Bronwen and Maleiu would be waiting. "Who first?" Remi asked. "You," the Kelsie said. "Bronwen should be able to recognize you. Vanshar last, because he has the torch." "Nothing doing," the Rameshander said. "Once you're up, the others can trap me down here until the torch burns down and the T-Crocs are nibbling at my heels. You go last." The Kelsie sighed. "All right." *** Bronwen fretted in the alley. "Where >are< they?" she whispered to Maleiu. "Calm yourself, Bronwen," Maleiu whispered back. "There are hundreds of things that could have happened to delay the Kelsie. She might have to wait for changing of the guard, or something similar. Or there might have been trouble in the Gaps." Bronwen sighed and nodded. One part of her was thinking that so much of their plan to rescue Shade was resting on getting Remi to captain their ship. Another part was thinking how much it was putting them all in jeopardy, helping a known pirate to escape from the dungeons of Glorshanned Keep. But by far the largest part was thinking of Remi, and how he had picked her as the trophy of the Arcas... "I hear something," Maleiu whispered. Bronwen listened, and could hear voices arguing. The dark-skinned warrior's hearing was good, but her elven hearing was easily a match for it. Still, he had been paying attention and she had not. One of the voices was definitely the Kelsie's. Another was Remi's. She sighed in relief. But there was a third voice that was unfamiliar... Remi's head was the first to poke out of the hole in the alley. Maleiu looked at Bronwen for confirmation, and she nodded. "Greetings," Maleiu said. "You are Etienne-Remi de Revimer, former captain of the Cote d'Azur, I presume?" "You are well-informed, m'sieu," Remi said, pulling himself out of the hole. "But I do not believe I have made the pleasure of your acquaintance." He squinted, for in the darkness he had trouble even making out Maleiu's shape. "Remi, this is Maleiu, a good friend of mine. He's coming with us." "Ah, yes. The motive behind this endeavour. What exactly is he joining us in pursuit of?" "It's a long story," Bronwen said impatiently. "We have rooms at a nearby inn, which would be a much more comfortable place to talk than here. Can you wait that long?" Remi shrugged. "It would seem quite strange to free us from jail just to gain revenge on us. Your Kelsie could have done that quite easily without bringing us all this way." "Us?" murmured Maleiu. "Us," agreed the unfamiliar voice. Another form, skin darker than Remi's but not the black of Maleiu's, was pulling itself out of the hole. The voice's accent was faintly Rameshander... Then Bronwen recalled Remi's first mate, whatever his name was. "Maleiu, Bronwen," Remi said, "this is my first mate, Vanshar bes-Vanshar. I refused to come unless the Kelsie freed him as well." "It's true," the Kelsie said, rising swiftly out of the hole as Vanshar pulled himself free. "He was quite ornery about it, too. They were in the same cell and everything, too." Bronwen sighed. She didn't trust the Rameshander, but apparently he and Remi were inseparable for the time being. "This will complicate matters," she said. "We only have clothing and supplies for one of you. And this isn't the Low City--walking around in a prison uniform isn't going to be all that inconspicuous. Were you seen?" "They killed a guard," the Kelsie said. "Remi's wearing his uniform, but it's a bit bloody." "Well, a little bit of blood we may be able to get away with," Maleiu said. "It's too dark to make out more than a dark stain, and if anyone asks you had a nosebleed. But we'll have to make sure it's not recognizable as a uniform." A few judicious alterations with a dagger accomplished that. Bronwen took the extra clothes--a loose-fitting tunic and a cloak--from a sack and handed them to Vanshar, who took them ungraciously and donned them with a grimace. "You said something about an inn?" Remi asked. *** None of the inns in Generica had been quite perfectly suited for this plan. The Dragon's Inn was out of the question, being too well-lit and frequented by too many adventurers with suspicious minds. The Drift Inn had seemed a likely prospect, but the makeshift quality of its accommodations ruled it out, not to mention the fact that it was very busy that night. The Net & Trident brought with it the risk of running into a sailor who knew one of the pirates. The Scrappy Ram was out because Verdigren would probably remember Maleiu and all hell would break loose. The Nesters Inn was not too bad, but was a bit far to walk, and the innkeeper too likely to report anything suspicious. That left the Spitting Cobra, whose main drawbacks--being in the Low City and only having Grakma(a.k.a. "sewer rat surprise")on the menu--were offset by the fact that people were rarely noticed there. Or, at least, nobody came forward with any information that they noticed. Certainly not to the Guard. Maleiu had met Trawm through Delmara a week or so earlier, and had earned the half-troll's respect by taking part in a particularly spectacular brawl, and being one of the few standing at the end. Trawm had eagerly extended an open invitation to return anytime. He'd been a bit disappointed when Maleiu had approached him that evening and asked if he could put up a few friends there for the night, strictly hush-hush. After extracting Maleiu's solemn promise to come back for a real wing-ding sometime, he agreed. Maleiu had also gotten a bit of a reputation in the Low City as someone not to be messed with, both from his adventures with the Kron Questors and the brawl at the Spitting Cobra. Thus, their passage was relatively unmolested. Bronwen blushed at a few of the comments that were made from the shadows, but made no outward response. She was secretly pleased at the darkening of Remi's features on hearing them, though. At the Cobra, the main brawl of the evening was just ending, a half-orc with an already-bloody dagger against a couple of drunken sailors being the only ones still fighting. Trawm, upon seeing Maleiu, walked to the door, clubbing the half-orc absently with his fist, whereupon the sailors collapsed on each other and started snoring. "Hey there. These the guys?" "Yup," Maleiu agreed. "It okay if we just take them right up?" "Sure thing. You want something to drink, or some Grakma?" Vanshar and Remi, who had been told about Grakma on the walk over, paled. Bronwen said, "Uh, no thank you, sir. We brought some food of our own." Trawm shrugged, not especially disappointed. "Oh, well. More for me, then." He grinned. *** Once upstairs, Remi said, "Okay. You said something about an explanation?" "And some food?" Vanshar added. Bronwen dug the food out of her sack. "Well, you see, one of our friends was lost at sea. He was on the Cote d'Azur when it went down, you see." Remi's face went still. He'd been mostly unconscious when his ship sank, but he could still see the flames that had crowned it. "I see," he said, his voice flat. "And you want my help in this?" "Don't you see, Remi?" Bronwen said. "We need you to captain the ship. You'll be at sea again, not locked up for the rest of your life in a dungeon." "On one condition," Remi said. "I keep the ship. When we recover your friend, we drop you off-->not< at Generica, but somewhere close by--and we go our own way." Bronwen shrugged. "You'll have to work that out with Radan. It's his ship." "Radan?" Remi hissed. "The wizard?" Bronwen was about to say that Radan wasn't a wizard, but thought better of it. Maybe Remi'd be less inclined to start trouble if he didn't know the limits of Radan's capabilities. "Radan's the one in charge. He knew Shade best. I was the one who suggested that you captain the ship, but he agreed to it. He's a man of honour." All of which she hoped was true--she didn't really know Radan that well, either, but he'd been unfailingly polite to her. "All right. Pending discussion with Radan, we'll help you." "Not good enough," Maleiu said unexpectedly. "We rescued you from prison. You owe us at least a service for that. If Radan is willing to part with his ship, and feels you deserve it, then he can. But you have no right to require it of us." "No right, he says," Vanshar said bitterly. "Listen, blackie-boy, whose fault is it that we got into the dungeon in the first place? Who burned our ship and got us captured?" "Who attacked us without provocation?" Bronwen shot back. "You attack us, we capture you. That's even. We rescue you from prison, you help us rescue our friend. That's also even. We can part ways after that--if you wish. We've risked a lot for you. We could all join you in prison if we get caught. I think we deserve a little consideration for that." Remi barked a laugh. "The woman's right. It does balance out, in a strange way. All right. If nothing else, after this, we'll have our freedom. But if you turn on us when the job's done, and put us back in prison, we'll see you in Hell." "Agreed," Maleiu said. He extended his hand in the gesture that the people on this continent used to close an agreement of honour. Remi spit in his hand and waited while Maleiu drew his hand back and did likewise. Then they shook hands. Maleiu extended his hand to Vanshar as well, but the Rameshander shook his head. "Remi's my captain. Any oaths he swears, are mine as well." Until inconvenient, he thought. He was already full of plans to take the boat from them as soon as the opportunity arose. "How do you know this Shade friend of yours is alive?" Remi asked. "No idea," Bronwen said. "I don't even know if Radan knows. He just can't bear the thought that we left Shade behind, dead or alive. Besides, Shade was pretty mysterious. Who knows what he's capable of." "How many are coming?" "Let's see..." Bronwen ticked them off on her fingers. "Me, Maleiu, Mistletoe, Radan, Angus, maybe Merol...you two...and, of course, whoever Radan gets as crew." "A crewed ship," Vanshar said. Better and better. "So it's a real ship, then," Remi said. "Might make it easier to pass the Seaguards' scrutiny, but will make it easier to escape. Besides, I heard gossip from one of the Seaguards that captured us, that the Wyeriun is a bit distracted lately. All the better for us." He yawned. "Now I don't know about you, but I could use some rest. I've been getting a bit behind, the past few days." There were two rooms available. Remi and Vanshar took one, and Maleiu and Bronwen another. Maleiu lay awake on the floor for a long time, thinking of Mistletoe. Bronwen lay awake in her bed for a long time, thinking of Remi. Remi lay awake in his bed for a long time, thinking of Bronwen. Vanshar dropped off to sleep on the floor almost instantly. He knew better than to let love cloud his mind. -- ---Alfvaen(1948 Books, 1097 Albums, And Counting) "The word 'semen' is included in the word 'basement'." --Gooley Current Album--Belinda Carlisle:Belinda Current Read--Marion Zimmer Bradley:Sword & Sorceress