Fille could only giggle as they departed. "That poor man, I thought his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets if I kept that up," she murmured to her companion. "Really, it's a shame the guard wasn't interested in looking. I doubt the shopkeeper will remember our faces, but that guard will."

Sera's eyes narrowed at that. She hadn't realized that had been Fille's intention. Thinking rather that the woman had merely intended to keep the man off balance. "Why would that matter?" She asked, a bit puzzled as they continue deeper into the markets.

Every few dozen feet, there were flagpoles of various makes set up, apparently divvying up the market according to guild, group or association. All around the orange and green of the Mayor's colors fluttered by stalls, and yes . . . there was a clear path leading towards the inner market, the items growing in quality the further they went. It looked to be that the Mayor laid claim to a large swath of turf . . . or more likely, he was front man for whatever sundry group backed him. And this was in reality all of their turf.

"Why wouldn't it?" Fille asked back, cocking her head at Sera. "We're in a town full of thieves and murderers and other assorted criminals. If someone was sent after us, I'd rather they not know what our faces looked like."

The girl's blue eyes darted about, taking in the sights. "Keep your guard up through here," she added shortly afterwards. "This is where the real nasty stuff can happen."

Sera shrugged once, still a bit puzzled. "True." She admitted. Stepping around a stall selling exotic birds, the brightly colored avians cawing and chattering at their passing. "But if they want us dead, not much we can do to stop them. And one stall-guard remembering our faces isn't likely to have much impact, if any."

Up ahead the shanty-town was dominated by a warehouse that seemed far to big for the town it was placed in. The wood and cloth structure jutted up well over ten stories, spreading out over what must have been, in a more organized city, a city block, if not more. She frowned, "Five silver says that's the place where the Mayor and his friends have set up main shop. How the hell does it not fall into the water?"

"No bet," Fille said, shaking her head and sending her auburn locks astray. "This is the biggest, nicest-looking place in this dump."

She came to a slow halt, shifting her weight to lean on one leg, her hip jutting out as she rested a hand on it. "God, that thing's ridiculously huge," she muttered. "Certainly wasn't there the last time I was in Rogueport. It's like it's begging to get attacked."

Sera stared confusedly at it. she'd not seen it when coming into town. Nothing in the place had risen more than two or three stories, four at the outside. Yet there the gargantuan warehouse stood, plain as day. "Did---you see it on the way into town? I don't remember seeing it. No way could they build it in a day."

Everyone else in the area leading up to the warehouse seemed to pay it little mind, as though a bit of the scenery. Stall owners hawked their wares. Guards stared menacingly, albeit with a bit less force, here in a district crowded almost entirely with orange and green flags.

She carefully edged closer, taking in every detail she could. There a few men and women in dark clothing moved with the arrogance of those who owned the ground on which they stood. Causing a ripple effect in the shoppers and salesmen around them, sending them outwards as though an invisible buffer surrounded them.

Her orange-flecked eyes darted back and forth, finally edging close enough to spy the door, a massive door to equal a massive building. Flanked by six guards. "How the hell does it not fall into the water?" She muttered yet again, not so much a question to Fille as a question to the laws of physics.

Fille shook her ahead again. "No, I didn't," the girl told Sera. "It was night when I arrived in Rogueport this time around, so there wasn't much to see. I just went straight to the inn. And I try not to wander around this place too much. What about you? Did you see it before?"

Sera shook her head, edging closer to the building. "No. was pretty uniform in height, from what I saw. Think it's magic?"

Even as she spoke, a group of hooded individuals approached the warehouse, armed with an assortment of swords, shields and crossbows. In their center a plain figure moved, heading with purpose to the building. Male, standing a bit under six feet and clad in browns and greys, mostly cloth with a bit of leather. Thinning brown hair atop his head and a modestly muscular build, otherwise seeming quite average. The guards at the warehouse doors whistled, signaling each other and attempting to stand straighter with the group's approach.

Perhaps the mayor? But no, from what little she'd heard of the mayor, he was flamboyant. Gaudy and ever on the lookout for a good time. This group moved with purpose, their eyes piercing outwards from beneath their hoods as their brown-haired charge headed into the building.

"Gotta be magic, yeah?"

Bec had already weighed the pros and cons of travelling with Bekka and Duff. They were dangerous folk, but no less dangerous than simply existing within the game. Moreover, if Duff was right, and that Ymaggion wasn't searching for a way to free the players, then his death would be almost assured, should he choose to remain stagnant. No, it was far better to try and seek his own way out, he decided. He nodded to Bekka. "I hope it's a bottom bunk, then."

Fille shrugged. "Who knows with this game?" she remarked. "I wouldn't want to be near here when it comes crashing down in some event. Who do you think that guy with the escort was?"

"It's not the guards I'm worried about," Terrel said warily, unable to keep herself from glancing around suspiciously. "For every guard we see, there's bound to be another rogue just waiting in the shadows for someone to come out and gank. It's a killing field about a hundred feet outside the main gate. The only way around it is either look too scary to kill or just go another way."

---

((Ajax, I don't have anything for you until you're exiting the Core))

"Like I said, don't worry about it," Rua told her. "Just watch my back once we're out and I can deal with anything stupid enough to make a go at us."

The swordsman turned around, glancing past Terrel at the rest of the city. "Besides, what other way?" he asked. "Only way out is through the harbor."

Bekka laughed. "They're all bottom bunks, Bec." She turned and whispered a few words to Duff, resting her hand casually on his stomach. He nodded along, then waited with Bec as she headed into the gunship.

"Eh, should be pretty easy." He told Bec, his voice distracted. Seconds later he was clapping his hands together, eyes dragging after his female companion with a mixture of emotions. "Going to a place called Cher Pleky- . .Plek, somthing like that. Helping another group out a bit. Mooi easy money."

He motioned for Bec to head back to the gunship even as the twin-engine machine rumbled to life. "We'll be leaving da core now. From here on, you're one 'o us, Bec me boy. You watch our backs, we watch yours."

Moments later they were aboard the gunship, the machine powering up and heading out of its berth, Bekka at the controls. Within the next few minutes, they'd be out of the core, their stay cut short by an opportunity. "K boys." Bekka called out behind her, "Cher Plek or bust. Eyeah?"


______

"Want to go up and ask him?" Sera replied in a tone that made it difficult to tell if she was joking or honestly considering the idea. But then she shook her head, "Betting an officer, or maybe even one of the head honchos of whoever runs this place. I mean . . look at the way the guards react to him."

Even as she said it though, something didn't quite make sense. The guards were garbed much as you'd expect shanty town guards to be dressed. cast-offs, hand-me-downs and a good helping of ingenuity. The man and his entourage though . . .had the look of something different. Perhaps jsut a different gang, or perhaps something from much further away.

She started walking towards the building. "One way to find out, get closer." She said simply. Working her way slowly through the crowd as she tried to get closer. The man and his entourage had stopped at the warehouse entrance, one of the hooded men conversing with a guard.

She stopped and looked back to Fille "Well, you got a better idea?" She asked seriously.

If it wouldn't have drawn even more attention, Terrel likely would've stopped right where she was. How long was he going to try and keep his plan some big mystery? He'd never even been to the town before, and she didn't yet trust him.

As it was, though, she just looked at him squarely. "I am bloody worried about it, Rua. 'Anything stupid enough to make a go at us' is usually six or eight guys with more than sticks and stones. Killing a foreigner here is about more than just the money--it's about the only 'honorable' thing you can do in this town, twisted as it is. I'm not about to run up against that with nothing but your solemn word you'll 'handle' it." She grunted and crossed her arms, finally taking her eyes off him and adding, "There are other ways out. Safer ways."

---

A transmission from Bavish came into the gunship's display along with a set of coordinates.

"Your gunship has been cleared for exiting the core. Just sit tight and the platform will lower you down into the tunnel, and your destination is already set. Just follow the coordinates once you're topside, and you'll do just fine. Good luck--Bavish, out."

Rua opened his mouth to argue the point with Terrel, then abruptly, he closed it again, a thought striking him--his mind briefly flashed back to the panic he felt when he got EP's first message. Instead, he glanced off to the side again, remembering for sure where he was. Terrel had a point.

"Alright, we'll do it your way," he conceded. "Where do we go to get out of here?"

"Asking that guy is suicide, Sera," Fille told her with a shake of her head. "They'll just get suspicious as to why we're asking, and then we'll get knifed in an alley tonight, if they don't shoot us then and there.

"Really, do you keep ignoring what I say about this place? Rogueport is dangerous, you can't just talk to other people like you can in other cities," she pointed out, her tone disapproving. She moved up to beside Sera again. "We'll scope it out, but we don't want to get too close."

Terrel opened her mouth to argue but realized a moment later... Wait, really? She tried not to show her surprise too much, but thankfully it was a matter of little satisfaction. Of course, the other ways out had their own issues, but she felt more confident facing those instead.

"There's a side-passage out we used to use for smuggling," the woman explained shortly, "but it was narrow so it didn't get a lot of traffic. You couldn't fit a good load through, and there were better ways out. Give me an hour, maybe two, and I'll make sure it's still open. Do you know your way back to the tavern, from here?"

Sera laughed warmly, "Don't be so paranoid, Fille. Sometimes asking questions is the best way to find out what you want to know. Not everyone tries to gash your throat out, even in Roguesport." She paused and shook her head, however. "But no worries, Not going to go up and introduce myself." She flashed a smile over her shoulder to her companion. "Not "that" stupid. Just want to get closer."

With that she started through the crowd again, weaving her way closer to the warehouse. Brushing past a despondent looking woman trying to sell exotic fur coats. And having about as much luck with it as one might think a coat-vender would in Cher Plek.

She stopped by a vender with a beautifully carved wooden stall, selling what looked to be potions of various sizes and shades, though all having some form of purple or red worked into their color scheme. An over-abundance of heart-shaped designed worked into the vials. Running her hand along the wood of the stall, she absentmindedly browsed the wares as she tried to get a feel for the market, checking to see if any were keeping track of her or Fille.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. At least so far as she could tell, the only people paying her or Fille any mind were the salesmen and women themselves, hoping for potential customers. A quick glance up to her quarry and she smiled faintly, the group hadn't moved. In fact having spread out a bit, some problem with the warehouse guards preventing them from entering the building. The brown-haired man waited patiently, seemingly unconcerned as he idly swept the nearby stalls with a mildly interested expression. His gaze sweeping by Sera and Fille without so much as a blink.

_____


Bekka nodded, setting the heavy comm-unit and earphones on her head as the platform gave a "chunk", slowly lowering them. "Roger that, Bavish me boy. We'll meet your toys topside." She glanced at the coordinates and put them to memory before taking the joysticks built into the pilot's chair, goosing the gunship's engines as the platform finally lowered them into the launch tunnel.

"Oi, buckle up or lose yer teeth." She called out behind her, smiling brightly as the gunship left its berth with a rumble of power, turbines rotating and allowing for a mixture of forward and upward movement.

Rua nodded. "Yeah, I think so. If not, Relayia can guide me back."

He looked around. He was fairly certain there were a couple market stalls not far from here. "I'll get some supplies for our trip while you take care of that."

Fille idly wondered if she had ever been this badly naive when she first started playing this game. God knew she'd put him through a few aggravating moments. The redhead shook herself free of those memories, not wanting to revisit them, and followed after Sera to make sure no one decided to prove her statement wrong.

She glanced at the gathering in front of the warehouse out of the corner of her eye, finally looking away after the guarded man's gaze swept past the two girls without noting anything out of the ordinary. "Doesn't look like he's the mayor," she noted to Sera. "They'd've let him in by now if that were the case." Even if he was just another puppet, there were rules to follow. Appearance mattered.

"Just don't get knifed, all right?" she said shortly, not sure of a better way to part ways than that. Looking around uncomfortably, the woman slipped into the crowds without another word, headed off to who-knew-where, leaving Rua in the street...



From the sidelines, another figure watched. The young man was on his own, now, left to take care of some mission of his own in this god-forsaken town, no doubt.

But there was something else.

This meant an opportunity. To this figure's eyes, the young man's companion had been no more than a shadow, a breath, a wisp of smoke, that seemed to fluctuate in and out of focus in the most infuriating fashion. Indeed, this figure had only spotted her--this sought after woman--because of her companionship with a static person.

The figure was armored from head to toe and cloaked, distinctly female in posture and given a wider berth by those that passed nearby. The cloak was dirtied and worn, but the armor power-tech in nature: polished, form-fitting, glowing softly around the edges, and notably Tsuminarian in kind. Veteran players might recognize it as both rare and expensive--not unobtainable, but a mark of a dedicated player at the very least.

Before Rua (though this stranger did not yet know his name) could wander far, she decided to make her move. Things were too close to waste with excessive caution. Stepping into the street, she made for Rua casually, though her outward appearance stood out in the crowd distinctively. She made for his side all the same, speaking to him at once.

"Walk with me?" she asked politely, though her tone was not entirely at peace. "I have an offer for you, but I do not wish to remain in the streets for long."

Rua turned to leave in the direction of the market, took a few steps forward, and felt Relayia rise up on his shoulder in alarm, tail and wings sticking out as she bared fangs at the newcomer that was suddenly at his side.

His right hand went straight for the hilt of his sword, and he did not let go of it even as she began talking.

He could hear what was in the girl’s tone of voice—he’d heard enough from one particular girl to be able to detect the subtle inflections of a girl’s mood in their voice—and understood implicitly what could happen if he refused. He forced himself to keep his pace.

“Alright. Start talking,” he said neutrally, glancing at her. He recognized her gear. It was enough to put him on alert—like himself, this person was no rookie at the game.

Sera picked up a glass vial, humming to herself as she nodded in agreement with Fille's words. "Warehouse guards seemed nervous 'bout him though. Some sort of big-shot. Wonder who's head is gonna roll for keeping him outside?"

By the warehouse, heated words were now being exchanged between what seemed to be the lead hooded guard and the warehouse guardians. "He's come a long way." The hooded man said loudly.

"Eh, don't care how far you lot 'ave come. The Boss isn't here yet, and yer suppos to wait."

For his own part, the brown-haired man shrugged simply. His voice carrying clearly to where Fille and Sera stood as he spoke. "I've waited two weeks. Another few minutes shall not deter me."

His hooded companions seemed to fidget, glaring suspiciously towards the warehouse guards. But they kept their station in a small circle around their apparent leader. Unmoving, statues with piercing eyes as they swept their gazes again and again over the nearby crowds. A pair of them finally seeming to tune into Sera and Fille, noticing Sera's guitar and tilting their heads.

A few murmured words spread through the group, and then passed to their brown-haired leader. With a certain amount of dreadful grace, the man's gaze locked on Sera and Fille, and he slowly approached the pair. With an unnerving stare, he said nothing as he stopped a few feet away from the women, a trio of the hooded guards behind him.

For her own part, Sera fidgeted at the sudden approach, turning and gazing back at him like a deer in headlights. Confusion running through her mind. Why was this man staring at her? Was a Guitar some frightening crime in this land? Heavens, Fille might have been right . .. was paranoia really the way to go?

She swallowed, unable to see Fille from her field of vision, but hoping the woman was backing away. She had a feeling this was about to go very badly. But then . . chin up.

A smile, weaker than it could have been, stronger than it should be, graced her lips as she ducked her head to the brown-haired man. "Um . . hello."

_______


Meanwhile, in a far-distant segment of Cher Plek:

The gunship cut through the air, a vicious twin-engined predator, turbines rotated in such a way as to provide forward thrust for the vessel. Bekka checked the coordinates she'd been given, dropping their altitude lower as they neared their destination. A bit behind her, George, with his helmet off for the first time in ages, manned the electronic warfare suite built into the gunship.

He looked so much different, she reflected with a half-smile. The man who always seemed to wear a combat hardsuit, even in the physical world. Was a surprisingly ordinary man underneath it all. Tall, yes. But brown-haired, brown-eyed, thin-lipped and relatively tan . . . a soulless ghoulish mercenary he didn't seem, without the helmet.

From further back in the gunship, the sound of snoring could be heard as Lancy and Duff tried to catch some sleep. The snoring she imagined was from Lancy. He'd always had a habit of it, something in the way he slept. Duff . . no, Duff practically curled up in a ball and never made a sound, when sleeping. Not even during nightmares.

Where Bec was, she wasn't actually positive. Hopefully getting some sleep, but from her seat, she couldn't see back into the main transport area very well to check. "George, let 'em sleep a bit longer, but get ready to wake 'em up. We're almost there."



Edited by Ajax on July 21, 2014 at 4:22:23

Edited by Ajax on July 22, 2014 at 4:37:04

The armored woman gestured toward a different street, one significantly less populated than the main hub they walked on at the moment, though not lonesome enough to suggest a trap. As she took to it, she pulled her cloak a bit closer to her, though it didn't do much to hide the armor. Even though the power-tech covered every inch of her skin, she still felt exposed in this town. It was not her natural environment by any means, unlike the parasite she searched for.

"You can call me Maia," she introduced herself shortly but quickly moving on. "I'm interested in the woman you travel with. How long have you known her?" she asked easily but pointedly, wondering their relationship. Normally the woman traveled on her own or with very temporary company, so she doubted there was much of a connection. She hoped her direct questions wouldn't spook the guy, but he seemed like the direct type. Besides, there was no telling how much time she had.

---

A transmission came into the gunship, short and sweet.

"Hail, this is Parks. Might this be the extra hands we were promised?"

"A little while," came Rua's vague answer. He glanced once more at her, taking in the armor she wore. There was one thing that the old games, like those Diablo dungeon crawlers or those Bethesda and Bioware RPGs never told players of this game--moving about in combat armor could get tiring and uncomfortable after a while. Traveling around the wilderness while questing or the like was one thing, but most players were content to move about in regular clothing when on their own time in cities and towns.

The ones that don't were generally expecting trouble of some kind, and given how this Maia woman had approached him, asking him questions about his party... she was expecting trouble too. He was grateful he still had his hand on his sword. "Why, what's it to you?" he asked back, trying to sound neutral. He didn't know if he succeeded.

Oh lord, he's interested in us, Fille thought in dismay. She couldn't tell if this guy was a player or not; he had no indicator that she could see. Some people switched them off, though she herself felt they should damn well be mandatory for everyone.

Normally guys approaching her and her female companions were just male players looking for a date. Here, in Rogueport? It could easily be a different story. Fille glanced at Sera and saw that she too looked a little nervous. A little vindictive part of her felt some ill satisfaction in that--maybe now the silly girl would believe what she said about this dump--but she squashed the thought down. Wouldn't really help them here.

Discreetly, she rolled her wrist, the motion causing another one of her modified arrows to loosen and drop into her hand. She made sure to keep the back of her hand facing him--no need to let their unwanted solicitor know she might stab him, after all.

"I've been looking for her for the better part of six months, now," Maia responded bluntly. If he distrusted her, it was only natural. "She's been wanted by numbers of organizations off and on for a while, in this game--most of it small time things, but they add up. Six months ago, though, she stole something quite valuable: a ring. I don't know how strong your allegiance is to this woman, but her allies always end up in the same place--imprisoned or dead. Whatever she's offered you, I can do better."

Maia's pace slowed down until she stopped, now standing in front of a shanty house that looked more abandoned than most buildings in the town. "If you'll let me, I'd like to show you what this woman's done," she said, gesturing toward the house. "I've set up a temporary operating base inside. You can walk me in at sword-point, if you fear a trap, but I think you'll want to see what I have to show you."

Great. Terrel had freaking bounty hunters after her? He really needed to have a long chat with the thief and find out any other surprises she had in store for him.

Still, if this girl was going to be kind enough to give him that much control, it'd just be impolite not to take her up on her offer. He drew his sword, the steel rasping slightly in its scabbard, and fell back a step so he was behind her. Relayia kept her gaze on Maia from his left shoulder.

He gestured with his sword hand; a light wave to the side. "Lead the way then," he said simply. Did he really want to know what kind of mess he was getting himself into here?

Bekka practically snorted over the comm line. "You'd Best hope we're your back-up, Parks, Else this would be about to get messy. I'd say Bavish sent his regards, but I think we both know that he's not the sort to send such fanciful messages." She banked the Gunship starboard, muting her mic for a moment to call back to her mate. "George, wake 'em up."

Seconds later the mic was back on, "So where we landing, Parks?" She questioned good-naturedly.


______

Liam kept his gaze on the two women, noting the prettier, obviously better versed one was automatically wary. The other, with the guitar, seemed almost painfully nice, especially considering their current locale. She'd actually tried to greet him, and seemed to mean it, despite her nervousness.

Greet a man with three armed guards right at his back and a good half-dozen within ear's reach. This girl had spirit. Especially considering her "special" condition. Finally, his passive expression broke, letting through the burning curiosity for a few short seconds. "hello." He replied, his voice gravely by nature, each word enunciated with a certain amount of care and patience. "What brings you to the markets this day?"

Now to see how the ladies reacted. Would it be obvious he was interested in more than their market-shopping? That if they ran, his men would cut them down? Time to poke the outlanders.

____

Sera smiled, the nervousness fading. Beat back by her ever-warm nature. "Shopping for love potions." she said, her expression practically radiant and almost painfully earnest. "I heard this part of the town had some amazing ones." She nodded to the stall at their side. Hoping Fille would either play along, or come up with something better. she had the distinct feeling that the man was waiting for something . . maybe for them to run. She didn't think that would end very well.

Bekka was unfortunately wrong. Although he had resolved to work towards his own freedom, such motivation dissolves easily, once the adrenaline fades away. Now that he was no longer scared, worried for his immediate survival, he was beginning to question his decision. Yet, he knew that there was no turning back now; nevermind what Bekka and Duff might think, he wasn't sure that he could live that down. So it was that he spent most of the flight staring at the ceiling, laying in the lonely quiet of his own thoughts.

When they began to near Cher Plek was when he thought it best if he leave the melancholy of his bed sheets, so he left his bunk and took to exploring the ship. If he were going to live here, afterall, he better know its layout well. It would not do to have Duff find him stuck in an air vent, or some other distasteful locale. It was simple enough to recreate a basic schematic of the ship once he traversed it, the game automatically logging his steps.

His last destination was just a bit off from where he'd started, and incidentally was where Bekka and George were sitting. "... but get ready to wake 'em up. We're almost there." were the words that bounced from the walls, vibrating cold and metallic, which was shortly followed by Bekka addressing someone else, though that was too garbled for him to catch.

"Have you been here before?" He asked, not really addressing either in particular as he walked up.

Edited by WillowtheWhisp on July 24, 2014 at 5:55:13

Inside the room, things were as dingy as you might expect, but there were some additions. Steel posts had been erected and put against the walls, creating a ribbing around the shanty, single-roomed 'home' that would reinforce the structure. A bed was crammed against the wall, and a single table with a couple of chairs were in the center of the space. A pyramid shaped object lay on the table, and Maia spoke to it directly upon entering the room.

"Maia Saman, with guest," she authorized, and the pyramid lit up at once, a holographic display illuminating above its tip to hover over the table. A Stamarian logo flashed briefly yet noticeably as the machine kicked in, but the display faded to a blank blue a moment later. Maia turned her head to face the one with the sword at her back.

"When you close the door behind you, it will lock--I don't want you to be alarmed," she said, gesturing to the large dead-bolt that attached itself to a small motor. The whole setup was less than ideal, but it beat renting a room in some pub for her stay.

"Care to take a seat?"

---

"Aye, look to the west and you should see it," Parks responded good-naturedly. "In about three... two... there they go," he finished.

To the west of the gunship, a perfect circle of trees seemed to stand up of their own accord and take several steps backwards, creating a clearing of sorts. The dirt, stone, and brush beneath the tree level shuddered after a moment as well, shifting around dispersing itself evenly until the clearing was not only circular but entirely flat.

On the other end, Parks seemed pleased. "Bring her down there, and we'll camouflage your rig while it's parked."

Bekka spared a split-second to register that Bec was behind them. Noting as she did that George was standing and heading back along the gantry to wake Lancy and Duff. "Eh." She shrugged, muting her mic with a handswipe. "Been around the game world a fair bit. Primarily time spent in the Core and Tsuminar though."

Another handswipe and she was talking again into the mic. "Aye, we see it. Landing now, Parks." She replied easily, sweeping their twin-engine vessel down to the clearing with a veteran's grace. The heavy turbines rotated with a roar, providing a cushion of air before cutting out as the gunship settled on the extended landing gear.

A few more flicks of switches and a glance to the scanners in front of her. Ensuring they weren't landing in a trap. And then she was unbuckling herself from the harness and standing, smiling back at Bec. "'ou want a gun? Or sticking with magic?"

Rua looked around the room warily as he entered. Reinforced walls? How in the hell did she even get those into Rogueport, let alone the building? Other than that and the pyramid device on the table, though, the room looked nothing out of the ordinary. Mostly what he expected, after seeing the hell and Droge's shack.

He wordlessly accepted Maia's offer, taking note of her full name, and pulled a chair to him, sitting down. He kept his sword out, holding it point down against the floor in front of him. "So, what've you got to show me?" he asked.

Fille fought the urge to slap her own forehead at Sera's impromptu cover story. Love potions? Of all the things they could've been looking through this dump, among things that wouldn't have made anyone here suspicious, she chose love potions?

This is going to end badly for both of us, she thought irritably.