Spirits of the Earth

She had been traveling in Essyrn that day and had arrived from boat earlier that week. Some ocean travel did her well, the salty air soothing to her skin and awakening the traveler's spirit within. She on her way from Serendipity, all the way down to southern nation of Essyrn. She was always fond of Essyrn, being one of her and her father's most frequent of places to travel (that, aside from the jungles, of course), so when her river boat let her off within the city limits, she was surprised to see the streets were in utter chaos.

The people were in an uproar and cheering in their native tongue,
'Hang him! Let the foreigner die!' And as she pushed her way through the crowds to see what all of the hullabaloo was about, she found herself lifting a delicately gloved hand to her lips as she gasped at the sight of a rather scraggily looking man- definitely foreign, due to his ripe red skin (sun burned, no doubt), a wild mane of untamed hair, and a thick beard growing across his face.  And those eyes, as she peered back at those eyes that caught her for just the briefest of moments, it reminded her of the wild jaguars of the jungle, and for a moment, she forgot herself as the crowd continued to roar around her like a thriving serpent.

It was then the man was asked, in common tongue, if he had any last requests. The man, who was about to hang (as evident by the noose hung loose around his neck) cast his wild eyes towards the piggish man and spat directly upon him.

"OPUS DEY!!!!!!!" he cried with the ferocity of a lion. "YOU HANG HIM AND YOU WILL HAVE YOUR JUSTICE! I WAS FRAMED!!!" he roared, voice bellowing even about the roar of the crowd. Miss Warner had to place her hands over her ears, but even she caught the name.

"Opus Dey?" It took just a fraction of a second for the name to register- and then she realized the connection and found herself suddenly pushing through the crowd. Opus Dey! Did he really say that name? Her heart was drumming inside her ear and it felt as if the wall of people just weren't budging.

"Please.. excuse me.. I must get through!"
But no matter how hard she tried to get through it, she just couldn't make her way over there fast enough as the hang man approached as the piggish man from earlier gave a gesture.

"Opus Dey means nothing here!" And he went on sputtering angrily in his foreign tongue.  "Then he shall hang from the neck until he dies!" he decreed. And just as Beatrice was pushing her way closer, she heard the declaration and cried out,

"Wait!" but she saw the hang man's arms reaching for the lever and most unbecoming of her (and of a lady in such proper skirts!) she threw herself at him,a nd cried once again in his face,

"Wait! Please!" she said, fringes of her hair coming free and falling in loose tufts about her face. "I know the man who's name he cried. I... I know Opus Dey!"

The hangman paused to look at her, then over at the piggish man, who growled and spat more Essyrnian words at the man, then he looked at the woman.

"We care not for Opus Dey! Did you not hear me? This man is to hang!"

"What is his crime?" she asked, breathing heavily as her chest rose and fell, her cheeks and skin flush.

"The worst crime of all- Stealing from the Temple of Hakeshna!"
And as he pointed at the man who now hung before them in judgement, the crowd roar for his blood.

But even above the roar,t he man's voice thundered above the rest.

"I WAS FRAMED! GOD DAMN HIM! GOD DAMN OPUS DEY!!!!"

Her mind was in a whirl, the sea of people coming closer around her, making the scene dizzy and chaotic and it was soon becoming too much to bear. She felt her throat clenching up, her heart pumping in her ears, and just as the man was about to signal for the lever again, she cried out,

"Wait!" And again, there was a pause as the irritated spokesman turned to glare at her.
"I... I can prove his innocence! I... I can prove whatever happened here was because of Opus Dey."

The man, who's nose was crooked as a rat's snout, looked down at her, then over at the man in the noose.
"Are you saying you want to help this pig?" he said, shaking the shackles that bond him. "That you actually want to help this filth?"

Licking her lips, Beatrice looked from the pig-man back to the one to be sentenced to death before she straightened out her shoulders and said, "Yes."

"Well, that's too bad!" he went on with a laugh.
And then he gestured for the man to pull the lever-
So he did.

The noose around his neck left him half-breathless as Red attempted with utter futility to reason with the executioner and the people all around the gallows. Worse than the fact that it was tight around his windpipe, limiting him to short ragged breaths -- it itched something fierce. Worse than the scraggly beard that he'd grown while languishing in the dark dungeons of Essyrn. He'd been in them before, but this might be the first time that he stared death so closely in the face. The itch wasn't helped at all by his sunburn. He could feel his red skin burning and cracking.

"OPUS DEY FRAMED ME! I DIDN'T STEAL FROM YOUR DAMN TEMPLE!" he cried out to the crowd, which elicited another round of jeers and thrown objects. Something stinky hit him in the face. It might've been a rotten turnip. He wasn't sure, but the smell of it almost made him gag.

Of course, he was not exactly telling the truth. He had been robbing the temple after all, but on another's request. He should've anticipated being betrayed by the great Opus Dey. AFter all, the two men had been stepping on each other since they were youths. Outsiders might have wondered why, after all these years, they still occasionally worked with each other. And to that, Red might have said "you just don't understand our relationship."

Which they never did. Him and Opus -- they were brothers. Or about as close as brothers could be.

Or about as far apart as brothers could be.

Either way, his 'brother' was likely sitting in his opulent manor with the Mirror of Hakeshna (and all its gold framing and inlaid gemstones) with no one being the wiser that he was one of the most notorious criminals in all the realms. And here, he was about to get hanged.

There was a commotion off to the side. He couldn't hear the pig-man over the noise of the crowd, but the woman he was talking to... boy, she was pretty. Too bad he was about to get hanged in front of her. "Hanging innocent men, and harassing women? You really are swine, Hakeem!" he shouted across the courtyard, but his next words were cut off as the trapdoor beneath him suddenly fell open.

He felt the rope snap taut around his neck and behind him, and for a moment he thought he was dead. Then he realized that his neck had not broken.

And he was choking.

"No!" Beatrice shouted, disbelieving the audacity of the man to simply ignore her request right in front of her, as if mocking her and there, she stood breathlessly watching as- Oh! The man did not die! And he was struggling something fierce.

Thinking far too quickly, she dashed forward to yank the trap door closed-
Only she forgot one minor detail..
The man hanging and choking to death was still dangling through it, as the trap door partially closed against him!

Realizing her mistake, and that it probably put the man in an even worse position as he was strangling,  she released the lever and stumbled back, the hang man glaring at her and asking as if she were crazy- all the while the crowd was roaring mad at such a sight. And Beatrice wasn't quite sure what had become of her but well...
When Hakeem began to go off on her, telling her how she was just some stupid woman...


That was all it took for her to reach for his decorative blade and hold it up so that it caught the flare of the Essyrni sun and then struck it forward, in hopes to cut the rope that dare strangle the man attached!

But of course, the first cut did not proceed, and as Beatrice stumbled over her dress, she hefted one side of it up, revealign some leg as she went to cut at the thick rope again...
and agian, and again, and again, before finally- with a triumphant 'Ah ha!' the rope was cut free and the man would fall quite painfully to the ground.


And at this, Hakeem wanted to eat his hat as his obvious words of anger were being ignore dby the woman, who was far too elated with herself and smiling as if she won some boxing match, while Hakeem now turned his attentions to the hang man, who he too, was just as confused by this situation as Hakeem was- and it seemed no party was taking any actions but words.

Once Beatrice was done glowing in her moment, she realized the man on the ground was hardly in the clear,a nd while the other men were preoccupied, she rushed over to his side and asked, "Sir... are you okay?"

For an eternity, the only thing running through Red's mind were the last agonizing moments of his life, and how he'd be thinking of his lack of air instead of all his other memories. Pity too, because he had plenty to remember. Hands bound behind his back though, he really could do nothing against the noose than the squirm and struggle even as it choked him away.

Then something began hitting the noose above him. Was someone cutting him down? It didn't seem like it, because every time she hit the rope with her sword, all that happened as that it jarred even tighter against his neck. As if being hanged wasn't bad enough! And to make it worse, he let out a pained gurgle as the trapdoor partially closed on him! Boy, what a day.

His face turned redder than it already was and he could feel panic settling in ... until finally the rope gave way and he fell down to the sand, gasping and wheezing.

The sun shone brightly down through slats in the gallows, blinding him as he struggled to gasp in as much air as he could. As the woman hovered over him, a look of concern on her face, his eyes bulged as he continued sucking in precious air. Finally, he had the energy to croak out a few pained words, and the first thing he said was...

"Lady... what in the HELLS... is wrong with you?!"

Miss Warner gave a tut and planted a hand to her hip.
"Is that any sort of question to ask the one whom is rescuing you?"
But propriety aside, she sighed over at the man stationed at the gallows and wiped her hair from her face.

"Well, don't just stand there, help the poor man out!" And his only response was to stare. Growling something about the inadequacies of a complete education among all Essrynj natives, she yanked the key ring from man's pocket and turned around, fully intending to go down beneath the gallows to unshackle the wild man. It was then Kareem got into her face, half shouting and cursing her out in both common and Essryni. And of course her response was to cut him a glare as she halted in mid step down the wood ladder.

"I'll have you know this man is an invaluable asset to my father's estate. To kill him now means you'll have killed potential antiquital rewards and-" she didn't get.much farther than that when the man stopped her.

"You mean this beast knows of treasure?"

Beatrice could not believe the audacity behind his reply. But she grit back her pride and simply went with it. Sometimes it was best.to use honey.

"Why yes, he knows quite a lot about treasures to be found in the Kishani! Kill him now and you kill the last line of men housing this secret."

He didn't want to believe it , but as he chewed it over he snatched the keys from her and pushed past her.

"If you are correct, I save the man for myself!"

And all Beatrice could do was gape as her plan, in a way, back fired into something else.

"Seems you'll live after all, pig," the man went on with a rotted tooth laugh. "See how much you like to live as my personal treasure slave!" And he seemed quite proud at himself for coming up with that phrase all by himself!

Red coughed as he struggled to wheeze in precious air. He'd managed to shrug the noose away from around his neck, but it'd left a nasty rope burn there, a scar that would likely remain for a long time. He only briefly heard the lady try and bargain for his life for the promise of... Kishahni treasure?

What the hell did he know about any Kishahni treasure?

Well, actually he did know plenty. He hadn't said anything though, so she must have just made one really lucky guess. Lucky for everyone but him, that is, for now he was both indebted to her for his life -- and indentured to Hakeem.

Red agonized face split into a slight grin as the rat-man hovered over him, his disgustingly yellow smile making the Kishahni cringe. With the shackles gone from his wrists, he reached up to rub at his neck. "Yeah, your wife told me how hard it was to be your personal treasure slave. She told me last week. In bed."

His defiant grin quickly gave way to a groan as Hakeem kicked him in the ribs and stomped off angrily, leaving Red lying in the dirt with just a screaming mob around him -- and the girl still standing above him.

"You're seriously going to make me lead tubby to treasure?" he croaked to her. She should've just let him hang.

"If it makes any difference, which it probably does not, that wasn't exactly the plan. But should you not be grateful? You are alive, sir. Seconds lost and you might not have been."

Red sputtered a bit, still finding it hard to focus on her face. Everything was still blurry and overly bright, creating a bright corona around her dark silhouette. Did she have to stand over him?

But she was right. She had saved his life, so in a sense he really was in her debt. "Yeah yeah," he croaked, "Thanks for saving my ass and all, gorgeous. I guess I owe you that."

He didn't have time to say more, for two of Hakeem's men, big burly giants with dark skin and darker tattoos, came over to haul him up to his feet and drag him toward a tunnel leading out of the sandy courtyard and back toward the prison.

Beatrice didn't get a chance to protest as the man was whisked away.
"Hey! Wait.. wait just a moment!" she shouted after them, grabbing on to her skirts as she hurried along. "Where do you think you're taking that man? He needs to see a doctor!" And at the revelation he was going back to prison she made a most unhappy face. But Kareem was in charge, and the men told her she had to go through Kareem if she wanted to talk or see the man.

With a huff, she placed her hands on her hips.
"Here I saved the man's life and I'm forbidden to even help!" And she threw her hands of it and stormed off after Kareem. She wasn't here to play his games anyway! She wanted answers, and well- It seemed Kareem would not see her.

"Go away!" he told her, throwing up his arms and slamming the door in his face. "I've had a very busy day, thanks to you! Come see me in the morning when I am more hospitable!"

"But the man he-"

"I said GO AWAY!" And the slamming of another door inside made her sigh. And she stood there for a moment, regarding the bustling streets and pondering what she ought to do.

Well, she might as well go visit the man she had saved, see if she could at least help him with something. ANd the Gods knew she was no doctor, but she knew a thing or two that might help. In fact, she purchased some supplies before making her way to the prison, where the guard gave her a bit of a hard time. But after thoroughly prodding him verbally, he finally let her in, and when she came stepping in-
Well it became more like stumbling in as she tripped over a slight step she did not see nd hd to catch herself on a nearby sell, her hat falling askew and her bag and it's contents spilled all over the floor. And her face nearly hit the sandstone, and boy did she get a whiff of the place.

and it REEKED.
A hand was quick to over her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit, tears prickling her eyes as she looked around for Mr. HangMan.

They'd immediately thrown Red back into his dark damp cell to rethink his life, and to 'thank Hakeshna for Hakeem's mercy.' What a load of shit. Getting hanged was probably marginally better than being stuck in this little cramped space again.

He didn't know how many hours passed before he found the strength to climb to his feet and pace his cell again. He started counting the number of beetles running around his cell that he squashed, until he decided that they were about the only companions he had now.

And he was hungry. Near-death could certainly play with a man's appetite!

A noise down the hall had him craning his neck to peer as far down as he could see, without getting his head stuck in the bars. Someone was down here, and it sounded like a woman, given the little yelp he heard. She probably tripped over one of the many jutting cobblestones, or slipped on a patch of prisoner piss. The thought of it brought a small laugh to his lips. It was a funny thought.

The hat gave away her identity though. "Lady, the bookstore is down the street."

She managed to right herself, but the man's cell she nearly fell through was making crude noises and reaching for her. She used the book in her hand to slap it away before fixing her disheveled attire, and tipping her hat back the other way, along with it's excessive scarf and swag.

And it was then she frowned and looked over at him.
"Well.." she said, upon approaching, ignoring all the cat calls as she approached him. "You look comfortable. Perhaps there was no need for my visit."

"It ain't bad," he said with an air of indifference, though it didn't quite come out that way for his voice was still raspy from the rope around his neck. Even now, it hurt to turn his head because the rope burn stung something fierce. "I get my own piss-covered pile of hay to sleep on, not everyone can say that."

He eyed her up and down before adding, "You came to visit? I was almost positive you were heading to the flower shop and then accidentally fell into this shithole."

Beatrice raised a sharp brow at him, then looked him over.
"How is your neck?"

"Connecting my head to my shoulders," he answered, gingerly touching the scarred flesh around his neck. People would forever know that he was almost hanged. Good thing he always had his scarf. Maybe Hakeem would allow him to wear it when he led the rat-man to whatever treasure he hoped to find.

Wait, why did he hope Hakeem let him wear a scarf? He'd wear it anyway.

He leaned forward and pressed his head between two iron bars, peering at her. "It's been a reeeeeeal good day today. How are you?"

"Well, if you're just fine. Perhaps my visit here was wasted then?"

"Here's a better question, lady," he said through the bars. "Why are you here in the first place?"

Carefully, she regarded the man before stepping closer, being mindful not to step in a nearby puddle. But once she wasclose enough, she whispered, "Opus Dey. I'm here because of Opus Dey."

That name made the hairs on Red's neck stand up on end. With a scowl he pushed himself away from the bars and plopped down on the pile of hay.

"So you want to know about the great, all-powerful Opus Dey? Who he is, what he does? You're gonna have to get in line, gorgeous, it's out the door and around the corner."

She folded her arms across her chest.
"I would think my actions would bump me, as a courtesy, to the front of the line. But I can see by your expression you are no more of a fan of him than I."

"What, by getting me out of the rope and into Hakeem's personal doghouse? You should go to the back of the line for that work," he said with a wild look on his face, though he quickly composed himself. Life, no matter how difficult, was precious. He owed her his.

"Now wait a minute, lady, who said I wasn't a fan of Opus Dey?"

"You were screaming his name," she said, giving him a deadpan- most serious of looks. "So don't begin to argue with me over the trivial details. I've seen enough rampaging men in my day, and though you were evidently desperate, there was also sincerity there. After all... did you not wish Opus Dey were there instead of you? It certainly looked that way from here."

"Oh trust me lady, I wish to the very depths of my soul that he were there instead of me."

But not from hatred or anything like that. No, Red just wanted to see what was fair. And fair meant that the person whose was at fault was punished, not poor little innocent him. Well, maybe innocent wasn't the right word...

"This happens every time. Every time."

Beatrice was taken back.
"Everytime?" She made a face. "Are you saying you've been in this scenario before?"

"Maybe a couple times," he admitted, looking up at her.

"What? You never do stupid things more than once?"

She put a hand to her neck, then looked away.
Who had she just saved? Clearly someone who was as common of a criminal as that wretched Opus Dey!

Red arched a brow and stared up at her.

"What did the great Opus Dey do to you to get you all bunched up in a knot? Did he steal your firstborn? Curse you with webbed feet?"

A hand still pressed to her neck, she cut a look towards Red.
"He killed my father."

Red bit his lip, but kept a nonchalant frown on his face.

"Sorry to hear that, lady, but he does that to a lot of people. So that's why you're here: you want me to help you get revenge?"

With a sigh, she moved to leave.
"Perhaps I can discuss this with you at another time. It seems your mind is still impacted from your near death experience," she replied, sharply.

Red didn't react much when she turned to leave. Instead he rather carelessly flopped down on his pile of hay and gave her a sarcastic wave.

"See you in a couple months love, if ever. Hakeem will probably make me lead him to Kishahn tomorrow, and I doubt any of us will survive."

"So, thanks again for that!"

Her temper was lit like a fire as she stormed clean out of the prison. What was she thinking in wanting to aid and seek help from a criminal? Had she gone mad? Possibly, but to keep herself in check, she knew when to move on.

And if the prisoner was insufferable, perhaps she would deal with Kareem first. He was, after all, now the owner of that poor sod! And as she approached his manor, she took a moment to fluff her dress and hat, brushing off any sand and dirt, before having his servant know she was there to speak to him.

And she was actually surprised when he obliged, and invited her in for talk over tea.

The tea was splendid, as she was surprised the man had such good taste, and though the conversation was lackign in any real purpose for the time being, she simply enjoyed some amicable company for a chance. After all, the barbaric prisoner left a soured taste in her mouth. But by the time she was done with her cup of tea, and more was poured she figured there was no further point in beating around the bush.

"Now, as you well know, I'm not here for simple conversation.." she began, and Kareem's grin broadened.

"But of course not, my dear. You have proposed a very... interesting solution to our mutual problem with that pig of a man rotting in his cell. Though I would love to see have seen him hang, I am equally fascinated with this.... treasure of Hakeshna in which you speak, considering that is one of the very reasons he was to hang. This... treasure... what can you tell me of it?" he said, leaning in closer to her so that she could begin to smell his foul breath, even beneath the hint of minted tea.


Beatrice had to take a moment to compose herself, and get passed the smell. But she smiled none the less.
"You see, I had hoped you'd be familiar with the man named Opus Dey..."

And at that, Kareem gave a huff and wave of his hand.
"Opus Dey- like cockroach. I'd rather we not discuss him here."

"Oh?"

"Yes, that bastard- thinks he king-makes many alliances, but also enemies throughout all the world. Well I, Kareem, am definitely not a fan of his. His men and he robbed me blind, long before I had taken power of this post!" And at that, he had to get himself something stronger than tea, and asked his men to fetch them some wine.

Though when asked, Beatrice politely declined, but as the conversation went on, Kareem continued to insist. So she had a cup, perhaps too, and eventually she talked Kareem into handling a small convoy of entrepreneurs- ones that could explore this possibility of treasure. Naturally, Kareem wanted more than fifty percent of the share, and though she was not too thrilled at it, she agreed to herself only getting a small percent. After all, she was not really after the fabeled treasure- but she knew Opus Dey might. And with rumors spreading around that the wings of Hakeshna may have been found-

It was then Kareem nearly fell out of his chair. And he stood up suddenly and took the woman and kissed her full on the lips.

"Ha! ha! You foreign lady! You are so smart! Come, join me as my wife and let us discover this treasure together!"

And Beatrice had to wonder what she had gotten herself into as she cringed out a smile.
"Let us not be too hasty. I see the wine has gotten to your head."

"Yes, yes, but one such as yourself should not be unescorte dby a man."

"Oh, but I do have an escort."

"You do?"

"Yes, the man in the cell."

"The man in the cell?"

"Yes, since I saved his life, I believe he should be my escort."

"But he is hardly civilized... and to think to wed him..."

Her face burned.
"I think you and I have completely different views on an escort... he'll simply be a partner, one to see I am safe- and nothing more."

And at that explanation, Kareem beamed.
"Ah, so our marriage..."
And as he reached for her, she barely side stepped his reach.

"We can... discuss that later. I'm not exactly a woman who cares for.. such things."

And at the look Kareem gave her- she knew a man like him would only make her hate it all the more.

"Yes.. perhaps later. For now.. we shall prepare? When shall this convoy take off? I'd like to prepare myself.. andt he men..."

And at that, Miss Warner smiled.
"As soon as we are all ready. Perhaps you should clean up and tame that beast in the prison. He's got a lot of work to do."
And with that, she left.

It was perhaps a day or two later when the hastily assembled expedition gathered at the eastern gates of Essyrn, ready to trek toward this fabled treasure. It was hard to tell just how many men Hakeem had gathered, but suffice to say - it was a lot. The scene almost felt chaotic as men roamed around with supplies and rations, stuffing them into covered wagons or tying them down onto camels.

The rat of a prison warden was the first to greet Beatrice when she arrived upon the bustling crowd, the fancy and expensive Essyrni riding clothing hardly hiding his gut or the sweat clinging to his brow. "Ah, there she is. Welcome, business partner! I have prepared for journey, we ride at midday!"

As if suddenly remembering their little bargain from the night before, his face soured a bit, but the yellow-toothed grin still remained upon his face. "As for your partner," he said with a wink, for he still had hopes for this pretty young thing, "we cleaned him up as best as can do, but still he is pig. Good luck with this one!"

There Red stood, some paces away, leaning with his back against a fully loaded cart with his arms across his chest. Hakeem had not been kidding when he'd said the prisoner had been cleaned up. Dressed in a clean white shirt and brown trousers, with a long red scarf tied around his neck, he looked almost dapper. His wild hair had been mostly tamed and subdued, though strands of it still poked out from odd places.

Miss Warner new far too well what that look meant, and she shot him a retorting glance to halt him from further insinuating anything with her.

"Well, it's good to see you are... so well prepared, but do you really think we need all of these-"
And she paused a moment her eye's caught sight of a man, very unEssyrni like, with arms folded and off to the side. She blinked a few times, still ont registering it was Red.

"All of these men. I mean, that one over there isn't even Essyrni. How would he know where we're to go?"

And at that, Hakeem was clucking out a laugh like a hyena.

"Of course he is not Essyrni! That is the pig you saved from earlier! And he likes to go simply by Red! AH HA HA HA!"

And all Beatrice could do, was stare.

"Don't be staring so long, it's not polite," Hakeem laughed, his face turning red in the heat. "That filthy foreigner will lead us to riches!"

Cupping his pudgy hands to his mouth, he shouted over to Red, "Isn't that right, dog? You'll make me rich!"

Red turned and gave the man a sour look. The rope burn around his neck still hurt, but it was getting better. At least they let him trim that scraggly beard on his face. It was just a bit of stubble now. "Just figure this shit out and tell me so we can start our journey. At his pace, by the time we get anywhere I'll be a fossil."

It was clear that his eyes were locked on Beatrice though. It seemed as though he was staring too.

Finally, after a moment he asked, "What's she doing here?"

His rude disposition was enough to snap her out of her trance.

"You can address me, you know. I'm not some helpless woman. And this is not the first time I've headed my own expedition."


"You mean helped spear head an expedition. Do not forget, we are partners. We are team!" Hakeem reminded, and when a camel nearly stepped on his foot, he turned to cuss out his imbecile of a helper in his native tongue.

While that was going on, Beatrice returned her gaze to Red.

"So... Red is it?" she looked him up and down. "I suppose it's suiting, though it'd be nice to know your real name."

Red returned her gaze, though perhaps it was pretty obvious he was still staring. After all, her presence had thrown him off. He had definitely not expected it. Unconsciously, he went about brushing sand off of his new (or old) clothing.

"Funny thing, lady, is it ain't my real name, it's just what folks around here call me," he replied, before clearing his throat. He really ought to show a bit more humility, considering she had saved his life, much as Red didn't want to admit it.

"And what's yours? I can't address you proper if I don't know, now can I?"

Beatrice quirked a brow at him as her eyes roamed over his form with scrutiny.
"Beatrice," she told him simply. "Lady Beatrice Warner." And she put her hand out for him to shake. "It's a pleasure to.. meet you acquaintance Mister... Red?" ANd she stared at him as if for approval to use that name sake.

Red looked down at her gloved hand for a moment before taking it and giving it a brief shake. "Pleasure," he said curtly before shrugging. "Mister Red is as good as I'll get, so I'll take it. Miss Warner."

Another man walked past with a pair of camels in tow, but nobody else came around. It looked as if the caravan was ready to go.

"I hope Hakeem can pay for all these people to get back here," he said with a roguish grin, "because we're going by boat."

"Lady Warner," she corrected. She had a title, after all! And at his comment about the boat, she cocked her head to the side.
"Forgive me but... do you actually know where we're going?"

He looked at her pointedly when she said 'Lady Warner.' No, that didn't sound good at all. He made the decision in his mind to keep calling her Miss, at least until drove her crazy.

Her second question made him pause for a second and think of how to answer. Finally, he said, "Yes. Yes I do."

Home, to Kishahn.

Surprised by this (considering the whole ordeal was a bit of a stretch and lie) she simply sighed and gave a shrug.
"Then I guess the blind lead the blind."

Red gave her another smirk, but whatever he had to say had to wait because Hakeem climbed up onto the back of a cart and shouted a long-winded speech in Essyrni. His men all seemed roused by the narrative, judging by the way they cheered and gathered their camels and supplies...

... for the short trip down to the docks. Hakeem's face had turned redder than a ripe apple as he tried desperately to both organize a ship that would take them down the river and southward toward Kishahn, and to convince some of his angry hired hands that they were no longer needed on the trip.

Hakeem was so flustered by this new chaos that he didn't even get a chance to find Red in the crowd and either berate him or beat him -- or both. That left Red idly leaning against one of the river's warehouses as he watched the anarchy unfold. After a while he glanced over to Beatrice and asked very casually, "So, Miss Warner. What's so special about the Wings of Hakeshna?"

Not that she'd even mentioned anything of the sort, but he guessed that's what she wanted.

Beatrice was amused a bit at first at the chaos- it served Hakeem well to have himself be so over prepared and not even do a lick of research about this expedition. But she wouldn't tell him she already had her own boat awaiting her on the Niafi River, and soon found herself amongst Red's company at the dock.

She raised a brow at his question.
"You know as well as I it's just a myth." And she could have chuckled at that, but left her eyes to do the laughing. "I'm not actually looking for that."

"Oh?" Red said, brow raising on his reddish face, "so what exactly are you looking for? Because if it's small peas, you can bet the great and powerful Opus Dey won't even be a bit fazed. He's all about the big items."

Another guess as to her motives, but he simply waited for her reaction to his words. It was easier than asking. He did add one little bit though, before biting into a fresh mango he'd snatched from a nearby fruit cart.

"And for the record, the Wings of Hakeshna are real. I've seen em."

"What I'm really after.. perhaps is not your concern. But it's hardy got to do anything about peas."
Watching him bite into the mango, she frowned. But then her attentions perked up at the last statement he said.
And that's when she laughed.

"Got some humor in you don't you? Mister Red... please, I've been all over the world. I know my myths and my legends. And you so, have not seen the wings of Hakeshna."

Red looked at her pointedly, which must've looked slightly funny given he was chewing a large mouthful of mango. A small trail of orange liquid rolled down his lip and chin, and he hastily wiped it away. He didn't challenge her, but merely gave a small shrug. He owed her his life, but if she didn't ask him to lead her to the Wings then he had nothing to feel bad about.

"Suit yourself, Miss Warner," he said after he swallowed the mouthful of mango. Gods, did it taste good. After weeks of prison slop, real food was heavenly. "You keep sticking to your myths and legends then, I'll stick to my real world know-how. But now I'll have to figure out a different place to take you folks."

She quirked a brow as she studied him.
"Oh? But I promised Hakeem those wings.." she told him almost sing songedly. "It would be a shame to change course now... and for him to believe us that we'd be taking him to any sort of treasure at all."

And she was pacing lightly around him now, thinking it over before glancing back to him.
"Do you really think the wings are in the jungle?"
It seemed a fool's proposition if anything.

Finishing the mango, he tossed its empty skin into the waters of the Niafi before giving her a small mischievous grin. "That really depends on if they're where I left 'em."

And with that he hopped off his post and sauntered down the dock to check out the ships, daring her to follow with her burning curiosity.

And just like that he'd leave her hanging? Oh, that figures the scoundrel of a man would pique her curiosity. Following after, for she would not be ignored (they were sort of somewhat plotting together, anyhow!)- she prodded him with more questions.

"What do you mean where you put them?"

Red stopped before one particular barge, letting out a low whistle. It was a damn fine boat, one of the nicest he'd seen on the Niafi in a long time. Whoever owned this baby must've been worth a fortune.

Glancing over his shoulder at Beatrice, he shrugged again. "It's exactly what it sounds like, Miss Warner. I said it the first time that they're real."

He grinned. "Funny thing is, I put them there so our mutual friend Opus Dey wouldn't be able to find them. Probably why he got me thrown in prison. What a nice person."

At that, she could have laughed but simply smiled at him in good humor.
"And just... what are you to Opus Dey, exactly?"

"That's a tough one, Missy," he said with a slight frown, turning back to the nice barge to buy him some time to think.

"I guess the term 'friendly rivals' works. Wait, no, how about 'competing acquaintances'? See, it's really hard to explain and you're better off not knowing."

"We've got a long journey ahead of us, Red," and she cut him a knowing look. "You'll come around." And she moved over to step onto her boat. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters... waiting on Kareem and his... men."

This time it was Red's turn to gawk.

"Wait, this is YOUR boat?"

And he hastily followed her up the gangplank, hissing under his breath. "Don't let ratty see you! The point is to make him struggle to find a ship!"

Beatrice gave a tiring sigh.
"Hakeem is too busy to notice. But keep flapping your lips and the man might see us." And here she paused before a door and asked him, "Do you like champaign? It's going to be a long wait."

Red's brow furrowed slightly at her. The nerve of this girl! How did this glorified librarian ever end up on this journey, HIS journey?

Of course, it wasn't exactly his journey for he was merely a guide and a prisoner now. And technically she had saved his life and had organized this entire expedition, which made her his boss in some respect. But who was counting?

The thought of champagne almost made him salivate. It'd been too long since he'd had a good drink. "Lead the way, Miss Warner."

Beatrice quirked a brow at him when he used miss, but didn't comment on it. Surely he recalled she was a Lady? If not, she'd correct that slip of tongue again, but with a simple nod, she lead the way and opened the doors and moved past a series of silky, near sparkling mosquito nests to a small, brightly lit common room that- if anything, looked like a miniature study for the wealthy.

In fact, that's more or less what it was. For a marble and gemstone landened globe stood out against a deep recess of candles that were unlit (due to it being day) and framed an area of books along a long, squat shelf. Nearby was a library table, kept tidy with an ink well and supplies nearby.

There were also many other things, like plush chairs, settees, chaise lounges and gilded tea carts. And as they entered into the room, a local man- recently hired as a servant, greeted them both.

"Tea?" he asked. And Lady Warner simply nodded.
"Why yes, please do put some tea water on. But be sure to use the Grey Tea. Oh, and Temmick- would you mind fetching the champagne? No need to get the goblets. I can fetch them myself."

And as the servant bowed and took his leave, Beatrice turned to Red and gestured around her.
"Please, do, have a seat. I'm sure you haven't sat in such nice, foreign chairs in ages." And she paused after a moment, setting two glass goblets on the table before studying his neck.

"Would you like some herbs for your neck? I have an aloe plant on board for such occasions. It works wonders on burns."

Red had to hide the fact that he was gawking at his surroundings the moment he stepped into the bowels of her boat. Everything looked so fancy, it almost resembled one of the untouched tombs that he'd found in the past -- jewels and baubles abound.

Flopping himself down onto one of her magnificently cushioned chairs, the Kishahni let out a long relaxed sigh and leaned his head back. "Ahhh... this is much better than a shitty cell, I'll tell you that much!" Before the servant could get very far, Red reached out and grabbed him by the forearm. "Bring some snacks too, eh? Thanks friend."

The offer of herbal remedy brought Red's attention back to Beatrice. He raised a brow but then gave his stubbled chin a rub. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Maybe some for my whole face, I feel like I've been laying in the sun for daaaays."

Which he had been doing. Prison life was a rough kind of life.

"To be fair, you do look as red as your name. But Ill be sure to mash up enough then." And with a nod she retreated to the window, and plucked off a few large limbs from the green aloe. It was a very lively plant, and was.already releasing juices before she even began to cut it up. But cut it up she did before using a mortar and pestle to finish the job. Handing over the green cream, she said, "there. This amount should be adequate."

Red spent no time taking the little mortar full of green cream and smearing a handful of it on his face. He let out a loud sigh and looked at her, looking like a green cake.

"Lady, you are a lifesaver! I feel like I'm floating in the fountain of Hakeshna."

Which he'd done, of course. Just one of many incidents that landed him in jail.

Beatrice smirked at how much he applied. It would dry clearer had he not gobbed it on like, but she figured he needed that much to sooth the sort of redness he suffered from. Now if only there was aloe for his name...

"And here you thank me more quickly for the aloe than your removal from the noose."

"You ever heard the phrase 'what have you done for me lately'?" he said, grinning through the green goop. A glob of it fell into his lap and he hastily wiped it away.

"That was days ago, this is now. Have to live in the moment, Miss Warner."

He took a peek out the window, where Hakeem was still bartering with one of the other riverboat captains. "Think we should tell him you own a boat? Or do you not want his dirty ass tracking dust all over the place?"

Beatrice gave a trying sigh.
"He can afford his own vessel. I prefer to travel with the minimum amount of correspondence as possible."

Red let out a little laugh. "That's kind of rude."

At his response, she quirked a brow.
"So was he when he invited himself along. Not that it matters now. I'm not here for his benefit anyhow," she went on with a sigh and smoothed down her skirts. "But since it appears as if we might be here a while, are you hungry? I was going to test the cooking ability of the local man I hired for the job. I heard his cooking was very well, and he even knows a few foreign dishes."

Red peered through the green goop at her, looking like some monster arisen from the swamp. A very comfortable monster, to be specific.

"Are you asking me to dinner? That's real nice of you, Miss Warner, I accept."

"Alright, allow me to ring for him." And she walked over towards the book shelf and hefted up the brass bell, ringing it three times before the man arrived. Beatrice gave the orders for him to prepare a dinner for two. And feeling adventurous, she told the cook to surprise her with his choice. He bowed and took his leave below deck to get to work on food preparation while Beatrice returned her attentions to her guest.

"So... Tell me, what sort or job do you do? I presume some sort of thievery, or Hakeem wouldn't have been so hasty to use the noose."

"Thief's a strong word to be flinging around," Red said curtly as he began wiping the green goop off his face. Already it was starting to bother him how much of it dripped into his lap, making a mess of his nice new(ish) trousers.

"Call me a soldier of fortune. An adventurer, a world traveler. I do whatever I have to do to get around, Hakeem just happened to catch me in a bad spot again."

A single brow was raised.
"So you have met Hakeem... like this.." she went on, taking in his form and implying his whole predicament. "Before?"

"Maybe not like this before," Red said as he wiped another dollop of aloe from his forehead. "The last few times, he was just a prison warden and I a prisoner."

He glanced off indifferently and added, "But then I robbed him."

She gave a light snort.
"It sounds like you were the best of friends."

"Oh he's a nice guy one you get to know him," Red replied sarcastically, grimacing at the thought of it.

"But it wasn't anything personal, just business. I'm sure he understands. I hope he understands."

Red shrugged. "And either way, at least I benefited."

Quirking a brow at Red, she looked him over before nodding.
"I suppose that's the optimistic approach," she went on, words carefully paced. "But only time will tell how this expedition will go. And I can only hope it will be as amiable as possible."
She'd rather not have to deal with stifling disturbances or acquaintances. She wasn't overly fond of that. It's why she preferred to travel alone, with only a few escorts. And there was something empowering about that sort of freedom she couldn't shake, and always craved.

But there was also the other side of the coin that well...
She wouldn't consider that.

"It'll be amiable when we get going," Red complained, glancing out the porthole to the bustling port of Essyrn. Barges were coming and going constantly – in fact, it seemed like their little armada was the only one not moving anywhere. "I'm only here because I have to be. And because I guess I owe you for saving my life. But the faster we can get moving the better."

And as if on cue, a knock came on the closed door, followed by a muffled accented voice. "My Lady, the Essyrni are finally ready for the journey."

And to make the timing just absolutely perfect, a second door opened for a servant bearing trays of exotic dishes, steam wafting up to the cabin's roof. Red's eyes lit up as he glanced to Beatrice. A white-toothed grin split his face.

"Maybe we'll both enjoy this expedition after all, lady."

At such a revelation, Beatrice looked positively appalled! Was this for real? Did that man already procure himself a vessel? Or, as she turned to observe, just out of the corner of a window, that he had more than one boat! Her disposition souring, it snuffed out any hunger or thirst she had as she rose up and gestured to the food.

"I can hardly eat at such an occasion." And before Red would get a chance to sample the savory feast, she gestured for him to rise. "Come. We should at least converse with our alliance."

Red let out a wail of despair when the servant made an about-face and marched right back out the door.

"Oh, CMON!" he almost cried, "That's just unfair! How about you go talk to ratface and I stay here and eat? You don't need me to figure out the plans, I'm just along for the ride."

Beatrice did an about face herself and gave Red a stern look.
"I think you are forgetting who has aided you this far. And more importantly, you do owe me enough to accompany me and share in the misery of this moment." And here she paused, sighing but remaining tight lipped. "Besides, I'm sure it's better than a hanging."

"Listen lady, you can't keep lording that over me," Red complained, though he reluctantly stood from his chair. His eyes drifted sadly to where the servant had taken his food away.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Let's go talk to ratface. The faster I get you those Wings, the faster I can get out of this indentured servitude."

She could have snorted. Perhaps she did, but she gave him a look over before making her way out onto the deck. And to see 'Rat Face' barking orders to his men and spitting over the side into the river like a camel with flies and insects congregating above his vessel...
Well, let's just say it was hard for her to make her smile look less fake.

"Oh, Hakeem!" she said with a wave in his direction, her voice as sweet as she could make it. "I see you've found a boat! And a most excellent choice!"
Though she complimented him,s he knew the boat was actually a poor choice, for the workers who maintained it did an awful job, and were on their break so were more or less reluctant to really work. The man was only lucky he possessed coin, or else he'd never be able to persuade them elsewise to get to work.

"Ah, I have no need for your barbs," Hakeem shouted back to Beatrice from the deck of his rickety hired boat. Apparently the only reason why he was able to figure out transport so fast was that he'd overpaid for all the men he'd brought along. The trip hadn't even started, and the man was already losing money!

Even now, several other boats floated behind Hakeem's, the decks completely overloaded with supplies, men, and camels. The dockmasters would have had a fit if they'd seen just how many Essyrni port regulations Hakeem had breached. Even now, one of the boats leaned dangerously to the left, in danger of tipping over.

"Have the pig lead, and we shall follow!" ratface added, wiping sweat from his oily brow. Red shot the man a smile and looked to Beatrice.

"Have your captain take the boat out of port, Miss Warner, and I'll do the rest."

She looked from rat face to pig and inwardly shook her head at their childish behaviors. But with a nod towards Red, she lead him to where an Essryni stood at the wheel, and he gave them both a warm smile.

"Ayhan, this is Red. He will be our guide down the Niafi. And our guide to a most interesting treasure."

Ayhan nodded and flashed another warm smile as he looked Red over.
"Ah, yes, this the wild man who takes us to the Goddess's wings?"

And Beatrice stiffened at that remark. Perhaps she shouldn't have told Ayhan her initial thoughts on Red.

"Wild man?"

"I promise you, Ayhan, I ain't any wilder than you," Red gave the boat captain a grin and a pat on the shoulder. His glance turned back to Beatrice. "But I'm guessing Miss Warner has a different idea, eh? Either way, let's start heading south and off to better lands."

And just like that, they were off. The opulent boat sailed out of the Essyrni ports and down the Niafi, heading southwest along the river toward the ocean far beyond.

Red spent some time with Ayhan at first, giving the man vague but generally good instructions on the first leg of their journey. By the time the sun was starting to fall from its zenith though, he'd moved to the bow of the ship, standing atop a rail and watching the horizon.

Beatrice left the man to his work. She was a bit miffed by the revealing of what she thought of her companion she saved from the noose, but what was said was said. There was no use sulking over it or apologizing. He had acted as an animal.

As the day went on, Beatrice eventually went to seek out where Red had gone off to, and seeing him by the bow, she hesitated to watch him. Perhaps he wanted to be alone...
She could relate to that, however, the plate in her hand was a bit heavy, and if he wanted at least luke warm food, he was to eat it now.

She took a step near him, making enough noise for him to hear before declaring, "It is luke warm, but if you wish, the food from earlier has been preserved if you wish to partake in a meal at this hour."

The voice caused Red to turn around and peer down at the plate of food. It smelled heavenly, and small wisps of steam still rose from it despite the plate having lost much of its heat.

Just leave it on the ground and I'll eat it like the wild man I am, he was so sorely tempted to say, but held his tongue just in time. No need to incur the wrath of this woman and risk not being fed the rest of the trip. Besides, he could always get her back by just leaving her in the jungle. Boy, she'd like that.

"I can't say no to free food, y'know," he finally said, taking the plate from her.

"It'll be a while before we get anywhere near where we're going, so I hope you brought something to do."

"You needn't worry about me. This isn't the first time I've had to endure a lengthy trip on the Niafi."

"Yeah? So you a seasoned veteran of world travelin'?"

Clearly not as much as himself. He'd seen things she couldn't even imagine. Maybe.

She gave a bored sigh at his inquiry. She had been asked this far too many times to count. Though when she had counted, it was well over one hundred and eleven. By now, she was sure she was nearing two hundred, but again, she stopped counting or caring. Not many people saw such an established woman, and one of status, as someone who could potentially see most of the world. Sure, if one is wealthy they can travel, but that's not exactly all her family did.

"You could say that, but my primary expertise relies in the Jungles. The Kishani had been my home for some time, and due to the fact I travel quite frequently, it, of all the places I've been, is more or less the only one I can consider home." Even if this was her first time returning since her father's death. And she had to wonder, did this mean she had abandoned her home? Though she told herself no place really was a home...

But even when she was younger, she had declared the Kishani her home, and her father couldn't have been more elated, considering he too, had a fascination for that lush and wild world.

Red had begun to dig into the food -- with his fingers, no less!-- when he suddenly stopped and looked at her. Did he hear her correctly?

"So you're from Kishahn, eh? Guess we do have one thing in common, wild lady. Which village?"

Beatrice made a face. Figures she was putting her foot in her mouth by gossiping behind others back, a thing she despised. But she went on to answer him simply."The Katung." And she stiffened, keeping her shoulders square and head held high, as if daring to challenge her about it. The Katung was in the heart of the jungle, after all.

"The Katung?!" Red sputtered incredulously, some of the food dripping through his fingers and plopping onto the ship's gently heaving deck.

Then he let out a bark of laughter, sounding almost catlike.

"But you're a little too well dressed by their standards, Miss Warner. What happened to the body paint? The piercings? The topless women?"

Beatrice gave him a sharp look, something similar to that of a hawk on the prowl.
"It's Lady Warner to you, and don't you forget it. And it's not like I was integrated as a savage. My blood flows from the North, anyhow."
Even if her heart, she felt, belonged in the jungle where she felt most free. All these laws and rules and things were so stifling. She did, after all, enjoy going barefoot where she could. But it would be silly to admit such a thing, now wouldn't it? Considering more perils can happen to one's bare foot in the Kishani than in some posh, well cleaned floor in Connlaoth, or Serendipity.

"I suppose you are familiar with the Katung, sir?"

"Familiar-ish," came the reply, as he picked up a piece of steamed fish between his two fingers and stuffed it into his mouth. It gave him a reason to not call her Miss Warner again.

Between chews, he continued. "The tribes don't really get along much, y'know. Sometimes my people would raid them, sometimes they'd raid us. But that was a long time ago, maybe they're all friends now, united under some banner."

Looking up from his food and back to her, he said, "The Vaa'tanen. They're my people."

Beatrice made a face, her nose wrinkling at the fact he just ate that food from the floor. So she ridiculed some rules of propriety, but eating like an animal was not one of them! Her disposition was kept soured as she frowned at him and his assessment.

"Not all of the tribes are like that. Yes, some are 'unified', as you've put it, but they just live the way they know how, and even some of the more secretive tribes that are misunderstood have their own unique light of life about them."

And at him mentioning his people, she had to repeat, "Your people?" And she gave him a scrutinizing look. He didn't look like a savage, at least not the kind she referred to him as.

Red grinned mischievously at that.

"Yeah, my people. Y'know, as in my folk. My crew. My tribe. Is that so hard to believe that I'm a jungle cat? For spirits' sake, even my name means that."

She let that fact sink in for a good long while and felt... unsettled by it, and something else she couldn't quite put her tongue on. But what she did know was that she certainly wasn't happy to have anyone be as acquainted with the jungle tribes as she and it end up being someone, well, like him.

So it would seem awkward that after a long pause she'd reply, "Well, that makes sense," with a sigh as she turned from him. "Even still, it's good you're at least acquainted with the lands."
And for all she knew... more so than she! And again, that also did not sit well with her. Perhaps it was jealousy, but could she really be jealous of such a man?

"You really think I'd lead you lot into the jungle without knowing what the hell I was doing?"

He glanced over his shoulder to the line of boats behind them.

"Never mind, don't answer that."

Her only answer was a glare.
"Don't get me wrong, Red," she went on, his very name coming off like something sour from her tongue. "I do not trust you, at least not completely. That would be foolish, we've only but met. But I am also not ignorant to what potential help you can offer me, and it is that help I am taking advantage of, nothing more."

The way she spat out his name almost deserved a scowl in return, but instead he only shrugged. Hopefully that would infuriate her more.

Spoiled city woman...

"Wouldn't expect ya to do any less, Miss Warner. I'm only as good as what I can do for you, which goes the same the other way around. So if you have a nice collar and leash for me, just go get it now."

Beatrice glared at him with the fury of a thousand daggers and did not even justify that with a reply. Instead, she grabbed onto the sides of her skirts and took off without a beat. The nerve of that man! To think he could talk to her that way! If she hadn't believed he was a savage before, this only made it all the more true.

ANd she was thankful for the reprieve, stepping out, (or rather, storming out) from him to the lower portion of the deck where no one, not even a hired attendant was at. And here, the breeze felt nice on her flush cheeks as she desperately needed to cool off.

He watched her storm off with a mixture of satisfaction and frustration. When she'd slammed the door behind her, he took another piece of fish from his plate and threw it at the door. It splattered on the wood and slid down, leaving a nice gross trail of sauce in its wake.

"The Wings of Hakeshna, and then I'm gone," he promised under his breath.

He stayed on the prow of the ship well into the evening, even after the sun had disappeared behind the distant sand dunes and the sky had been replaced by a thousand shimmering stars. The boats continued to float their way down the Niafi, which gleamed in the moonlight.

And he wasn't the only one enjoying the cool, calm tranquility of the night. Beatrice had tried to go to bed, infact, she was in her ivory night gown already, but because her mind was still troubling her from the events from earlier, she found herself desiring some fresh air.

Pacing down the boat's side, she hadn't noticed Red's figure, a shadow against the dark, twinkling river, as she paused at an opposing corner of the boat from him and sighed as she looked out at the soft lapping, river waves.

Red had taken a seat on the ship's wooden railing, his feet dangling over the edge of the ship as it cut through the water like a knife, its sleek hull bobbing gently in the foamy wake it left.

It really was nice to be free again. And on a boat too: he hadn't ridden on the water in a long time. He'd almost forgotten how refreshing the evening breeze could be as it tousled his hair behind.

Softly, he began humming, a tribal tune that he remembered from his childhood. He'd been away from Kishahn for so long now, only occasionally returning for this and that. But the memories of the lush jungle, of straw huts and rope ladders... of climbing up and down vines, leaping across treetops like the wild cat he was.

The tune carried along the wind and grew louder as his voice grew louder. His fingers drummed along a beat beside him, against the wood.

At the humming, she bristled. And just as she was easing up to presume it was one of her hired hands, she stiffened again and peered over in the direction of the noise. It was unmistakably her partner, and the tune, something that was familiar, but she could not quite find it's name. But rather than disturbing the moment, as it was evident he had no idea she was near, she remained quiet and simply listened. It was a peaceful sound, and reminded her of her father. He used to hum a lot, too.

The humming gave way to soft singing, perhaps a bit off tune but still mostly recognizable. The language was less so. Even so many years away from the jungles, the accented lilt of his tribesmen shone through clearly as he sang of the toucan and the jaguar, an old fireside hymn he'd memorized as a child. His drumming fingers picked up the pace as his voice began to rise.

OOC: Ugh, I can't recall her hired helpers names lol I'll have to go back and add them to Beatrice's profile >_>

-------

And Lady Warner was lost in the moment, in the sounds of those off-beat, and off-key lyrics when a voice from the darkness joined him and Beatrice nearly leaped out of her skin. The hired cook, whom she knew shared a similar heritage with the supposed story from 'Red', had now joined him on the deck to help him finish the song.

And in the moonlight, as the song came to an end, he flashed the man a bright, white smile.

"It is nice to meet someone who knows that song."

And as the two men conversed, Beatrice kept herself nice and quiet, and strained her ears to try to get a better listen to what they might say.

The additional voice had Red's neck turning so fast that he winced from the way it cracked lightly. Still, his mouth broke open in a jagged smile as his tune became even more off-key. They finished the song together.

"The same, bahn'de," the Kishahni replied with his native word for 'friend'. "You don't find many Kishahni around these parts."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "And fewer still on boats. How'd you end up working with Warner?"

The man continued to smile, quite delighted in this new companion that was a symbol of sorts, of his home.

"Lucky, really. She found me on a whim, or so she claims. But I think it was the spirits guiding us. And so here I am, and I do well."

"Yeah? She pays you well? Shocking."

She treated her employees respectfully, which he couldn't say about his own benefactors. So, at least that was something good about her. Even if she was a bit annoying.

He leaned forward and gave the man a nudge with his elbow and a wink. "She'd better pay you well. You make a mean fish."

The man blushed, but it was lost in the darkness. But his smile still gleamed like the moon.
"You like fish?" he went on, removing a pipe as he went on to fill it with some of the local, dried tobacco.

"No, but I do now," he laughed. Watching as the man lit his pipe with the strike of a match, he waited a moment before offering out his hand. "May I?"

The man flashed another grin before offering over the pipe.
"Sure. But don't get too addicted to it. Those tobacco flakes, they hard to come by."
And as he handed over the pipe, he also introduced himself.
"The name's Yah'zuhl."

"Yah'zuhl," he repeated as he took the pipe and gave it a couple gentle puffs. It was pungent to the taste, but as soon as he breathed it in he could feel a slight sense of calm falling over him.

With closed eyes he let the smoke linger in him for a moment longer before exhaling it in a gentle stream of smoke which dissipated into the night.

Opening his eyes again, he replied, "I'm Red."

And after a moment, corrected himself.

"Rajon-Toukta." Rabid Cat.

"Rajon-Toukta?" Yah'zuhl chuckled. "What sort of things did you do to your parents to warrant such a name? I guess your birth was difficult?"

Red shrugged as he took another inhale of the tobacco, though inwardly he didn't want to answer the question. It was a sore spot for him, after all.

After a moment's silence however, he answered anyway with another shrug. "My birthing was fine. You can blame my older brother, he was the one who died at childbirth. Vaa'tanen tradtion. My ugly name is supposed to scare off the evil spirits, y'know. So I'm actually good luck."

It was then Yah'zul nodded.
"Ah. That makes sense my friend. Perhaps your good luck will shine on us during this adventure? Lady Warner could use the luck. Hakeem... Hakeem is bad luck. And you... Rabid Cat," he chuckled, "You are good luck. Should prove interesting." And he gestured to take the pipe back. "I should return below deck. I was just curious as to why you and Lady Warner were out here at such an hour. But seems you both just needed fresh air."

And to realize she had been spotted, Beatrice's ears burned red as she tried to press herself more into the shadows. Perhaps Red wouldn't see her there. Either way, she kept her eyes on the Niafi, not anywhere else.

Red's back stiffened at the mention of Beatrice, and the fact that she was out here. Had she heard everything the men had spoken about?

He didn't get a chance to wish the cook a good night, as his eyes spent the next few moments scanning the deck, looking for any signs of her lurking in the shadows. He didn't have to look far, for his gleaming eyes caught sight of her silhouette pressed up against a wall, gaze purposefully averted.

"You can stop dropping eaves, Miss Warner," he said coldly. "Looks like I have no more secrets to hide anyway."

"You insult me, sir. As Yah'zuhl said, I craved fresh air," she told him, rising from where she sat and keeping her chin held high. "But I think I got enough of it. So I bid you two a good night." And she bowed her head rigidly to them both before moving to disappear back into the boat.

He let her stomp off without so much as a word. All she was good for was turning the fresh evening air into hot breaths anyway. Suddenly the idea of leaving her stranded in the jungle wasn't so bad after all.

The next few days passed by without much incident, though Red had to take extra care to avoid Beatrice whenever he could. He passed the time trading stories with Yah'zuhl and helping out the boat crew with their daily tasks. Anything to avoid crossing paths with that stuck up killjoy.

On the sixth day, the boat finally approached an expanse of water stretching into the horizon: the ocean. As the river exited into the sea, the line of boats veered left and began traveling down the coastline.

Salty breezes became the norm, as did idle fishing over the side of the ship. Even the Kishahni tried his luck at it and managed to snag himself a little snapper, which he began cleaning and gutting right there on deck.

He wasn't the only one avoiding the other, as Beatrice busied herself with other things. And by the time they were on the ocean she felt more at  peace. Avoiding a man for so long on a ship so small was silly, and she was about to announce it so, or at least confront her partner when the little snapping fish he caught fell onto the dock. And with a smile, she moved towards him with warm praise.
"Congratulation. Seems you've caught yourself a-" but then her voice squeaked as she reeled back to scream, "A shark!"

The knife nearly leaped out of Red's hands as Beatrice let out a scream, and it took all of his catlike reflexes to catch on to the little fish before it flopped its way off deck and back to the sea.

"Whoa, easy there!" he cried, holding the shark between his hands as it squirmed away. "Calm yourself, it's just a fish! It's harmless!"

And as he held it up for Beatrice to see, the shark lunged up and chomped down on the red scarf dangling from Red's neck, its teeth gnashing together as its eyes glazed over white.

With his own yelp Red jumped toward Beatrice with a shark dangling from his neckwear.

Beatrice panicked, but not one to simply run from an animal attacking, (after all, it's not like the first time she had to deal with an angry, chomping fish!) she wasted no time and using the parasol on her person and began to hit the shark back, but its bite was unforgiving on the scarf and with a frustrated yowl, she grabbed the shark from its tail and gave a yank. She would not be one upped by a fish!

The parasol hit the shark a few times, though it refused to let go of the scarf. More pressingly, the parasol hit him more than it did the shark, and Red had to cower from the deadly weapon.

"OW! Watch it!" was all he could say before he felt a tub at the scarf cutting off his breathing. With one hefty yank, Beatrice elicited a gurgle from Red as he stumbled forward -- and promptly fell down a set of stairs to the deck below.

She wasn't entirely sure how the series of events unfolded but Red wasn't the only one tumbling. And the fall hurt like nobodies business, though at least for Red, she acted as a cushion when he landed ontop of her, her hand still holding his red scarf, and the baby shark that, despite all odds, was still biting tight. And though their position on landing was scandalous at best, with her skirts hiked up high and her legs, exposed, the first thing she noticed was Red's red face, and with a gasp, her hands shot back and the shark went sailing, taking a bite of the red scarf with it as it hit the back wall, fell, and began to wriggle helplessly on the floor.

And seeing Red still being choked, she moved quickly to try to unbind the scarf but it was so tight against his neck she feared he might suffocate and die before she could get it undone. And so she reached down to her boot and produced a slick,, silver knife and commanded, "Hold still!" And the sharp blade cut the red scarf off in one fluid motion.
"Are you alright?" She asked, eyes full of concern.

Between the fall and her hard yank at the shark, it'd only served to tighten the scarf around his neck to the point where he was beginning to see stars. He didn't have the breath to respond as the fall had knocked the air out of his already choking lungs.

He didn't hear what she said, but felt the cold touch of steel against his neck, before a single cut severed the scarf from around his neck. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, gasping and wheezing for air as the torn fabric fell from him -- exposing the nasty rope burn scar on his neck, left over from when he'd almost been hanged.

As he looked up through blurred vision to her concerned face, he struggled to find his words. It took a moment before he could croak out a few.

"It... was... just... a... fish!"

How exasperating!

"It was not some fish! What if that young shark bit your face off!" she scolded, hands now to her hips. ANd upon seeing his scar, she visibly scrutinized it.

"Oh dear.. you seem to need more medicine for that burn."

He stood back up, face redder than ever. "Not if I had gutted it! Then we'd be enjoying a nice meal of shark! It would've been delicious."

It was then when he realized his scarf was gone. With a self-conscious twitch he quickly reached up and lifted the collar of his shirt to try and hide the scar. He felt so naked without his neckwear.

"How about we find a replacement scarf first, then get medicine later?" he asked her with an awkward smile, though inside he seethed. Gods, he didn't want to be nice to her but... who else could provide for him?

Frowning, she picked up the torn fabric.
"If you'd like, I could mend this one."

Red nodded quickly and emphatically. He did like that scarf.

"That'd be great, thanks sweetheart."

"It's a bit worn too, but I can mend the other holes I see as well. It shouldn't take long," and she offered him a reassuring smile. She did feel guilty, after all. And after a moment, she found herself adding, "And I am sorry about the fish. I... am just not a fan of sharks." Even the little ones.

"What?! They're delicious!"

He scrambled over to where the shark was still flopping around and managed to snatch it with his hands. Trotting back over, he held it up.

"I'll get your cook to fry it up and you can try it later. As payment for repairing my scarf."

Beatrice jerked back, practically shielding herself with one raised arm.
"That... that's not what I meant! Cooked... cooked fish of any kind is fine! But what I do not care for is a living shark!" And the fear was evident and real as she continued to draw back IN FEAR.
"Living sharks have teeth!"

Red turned the shark and peered down at it. It stopped flopping around for a moment -- then chomped at the air near his nose, little shark teeth clearly visible in the daylight.

"Well, I mean most things do, you just have to make sure they don't bite you."

Seeing her recoil, he had to suppress a laugh. "Okay okay, I'll gut it elsewhere," he said with a choked back snicker.

Beatrice glared at his retreating form.
"And you would do well not to thrust your catch in other's faces!" She called after him, evidently still flustered as she tried to keep her cool. But it seemed too late for that.

He called back to her from across the deck."Hey, in my defense I thought you'd be proud of me or somethin'! Kishahni don't fish. Everyone knows that!"

Of course that was entirely untrue and she probably knew it. He couldn't help but shoot her a mischievous grin anyway as he went back to gutting the little shark. His knife work was just a little rougher than usual.

That's for biting through my scarf! he thought.

Beatrice rolled her eyes and simply let Red to his shark gutting. She moved to stand near the deck of the ship, and only peered over to the man when she could be discrete. He had a point. Kishani normally did not fish. Though when they did, it was normally with spears.

For his part, Red was quick about his work, ridding the little shark of its many guts and abrasive skin, until he was left with two nice filets.

Slamming the knife down so that it embedded itself in the ship's wooden railing (and chipping some of the paint), he sauntered back over to Beatrice with the fish proudly held out in bloody hands.

"Where's that cook of yours? We're going to feast tonight!"

Where she any other woman, perhaps she'd be repulsed. But being the shark was very much so dead, and the man did a rather nice job cutting up the thing, she stared at it with an appreciative, if not a little scrutinizing, look.

"I say, you do know you're way with a knife. And you can find him below deck. Though he is resting. Poor man, he had something of a headache. I told him to get below deck and rest. So perhaps I could go check on him to see if he's doing alright? In the meantime, you can take that meat to the kitchen."

And she gave him a grin and made her way towards the lower deck, feeling much more at ease that things seemed to be sailing much smoother now.

Sure enough, the cook was plenty skilled at preparing delicacies from the river. It was enough for two separate courses: a light broth cooked with the shark's fins and bones, and the shark filets seared and served with a salsa of colorful fruits.

Red was seated at the table in the ship's gallery, ready to dig in, when the cook snatched away his cutlery and wagged a finger at him. Of course he couldn't start yet, not without the lady of the ship having first joined them!

"Awww, c'mon," the Kishahni complained to no avail, "I'm hungry now! She's probably trying on different hats or something ridiculous like that."

Of course, he was wearing the same set of clothing he had since the beginning. Even the other sailors were beginning to steer clear of him.

His presumption s weren't entirely wrong, for when Beatrice arrived at the table, she was wearing a new hat.

Red's stomach growled just as she arrived, and so he covered it up with a little wolf whistle.

"Nice hat, this one makes your hair really stand out," he said with a grin, not knowing if it actually did or not. That was something these rich adventurous types liked to hear, right?

As soon as she sat, he picked up his utensils and began drinking down his soup. "Your boat captain says that we're getting close to port, and from there it's an overland journey to the jungles, where the Wings await. Excited?"

"Beatrice gave a look and touched her hat.
"Its meant to hide my hair, not accentuate." either way, she still gave a smile. "Yes, yes I am." And her eyes brightened at the idea. "I'm so excited that I'm embarassed to admit my stomach is bothfluttering and tieing into knots. I'm not sure I'll be able to eat much tonight."

"You should try anyway," Red said between loud slurps of his soup. "You're gonna need to energy for the journey ahead. Lots of dense jungle, maybe a bit of tree climbing!"

Red's soup emptied pretty quickly, and he glanced to the open door that led out to the deck. The sun had dropped rapidly, leaving a pale purple dusk.

"Where did that cook of yours go? He's supposed to serve the main course now!" Footsteps came from outside, and Red's eyes lit up. "Ah, there he is!"

A figure appeared at the door, cloaked from head to toe despite the heat. Something sharp and metallic in his hand reflected the candlelight. It was decidedly not the cook.

"Opus Dey sends his regards."

There was a hiss as Beatrice jumped to her feet. Soon the room was filling with smoke as she cried out, " Then send these regards back!" And her parasol was in hand as she attempted to give this intruder a good whack on the head.

Evidently the man wasn't expecting a prim and proper lady to wield an umbrella as a weapon.  He ended up having to duck the parasol, slashing wildly at nothing with his knife. From outside the dining room, shouts began to echo.

Red was having none of it. As soon as the man had appeared he had leaped to his feet.

"Tell Opus that Red said hello!" he quickly called out as he snatched Beatrice's wrist and darted past the man and out of the room as it began filling with acrid black smoke. Out on the deck, there was at least some visibility -- enough to show that the entire ship was engulfed in flames. Evidently, the line of ships behind theirs were also starting to light up from the coordinated attack.

"Ugh, we might have to jump for it!" he wailed, peering down at the water. Something dark moved beneath the surface.

It was a whirl wind of chaos if anything, as Beatrice stumbled along with Red.

"Don't you have some sort of a plan?" Beatrice quipped, heart thrumming as they neared the edge of the boat. "And surely you can't think we'd be able to swim out of this! There are crocodiles!"
And one came close enough into the gloom that the ridges on it's back were visible as they cut through the water.

"If that man is one of Opus's, shouldn't we try to capture him for information or anything?"
So asks the woman while her ship was on fire!

Red gave her an incredulous stare before shrugging like only he could do. "I guess you could try.  Maybe you can ask him yourself if he'll surrender - here he comes!"

And sure enough, out of the smoke emerged the man.  His face was blackened by soot and he was coughing slightly, but that dagger still gleamed menacingly in his hand as he charged toward Beatrice!

And as he did so, she froze-
but only briefly before she swung her parasol- and whacked the knife out of his hand-
Then whacked him clean across the jaw.

It took Red a moment to pick his jaw off the floor, but he did it just in time to watch the would-be assassin tumble forward -- and overboard with a loud splash.

Rushing to the edge, Red watched as the man flailed around in the water for a moment before going under. With a wide catlike grin, he spun on Beatrice. "Y'know what, Miss Warner? I take back all the bad things I said about you!'

Just then, a flaming timber crashed down behind them, making the entire ship rock unsteadily. Behind them, one of the other ships has already capsized into the river, leaving dozens of men splashing around in the dark water and trying to get to shore.

"Hold on to that compliment you were just about to give me -- time to jump!"

Beatrice made a face.
"The what I was about to give-?" And then another roar of fire had Beatrice jumping off her feet- and stumbling into Red...
and taking them both off their balance and sending them up and over the railing in a rather awkward and painful manner- with skirts ripping, limbs tangling before the inevitable splash and cold water and darkness surrounded them.

The waters were almost pitch black, and the first thought on Red's mind was that he couldn't tell which way was up.  His second thought was that the water wasn't all that cold.  These arid climates had some benefit, after all.

Groping blindly and flailing about, his hand brushed up against something tattered.  Likely Beatrice's stupid skirts, he thought next.  And as he grabbed for a handful of them his palm fell upon what was unmistakably a woman's bare leg.

He opened his mouth to say something snarky but all he found was water rushing in.  With a bubbly cry, he grabbed onto the woman's form and kicked his way to the surface, breaking it with a loud gasp.

As he gasped to catch his breath, something scaly edged up against the side of his pant leg, and Red's eyes bulged out of his head.  "Shit! Crocs incoming! Swim for the shore!"

It was a swimming fit to get untangled from him, but were she upset he had been touching her, she knew she had better things to worry about. But at the warning of the crocodile, Beatrice spung to see- and with a gasp, she saw the beast turn about, and jaw open while teeth glistened in the moon light.

Unwittingly, she screamed, and hesitated not to use her water logged parasol to throw into it's throat.

"Yes.. swim, Gods!"
Crocodiles might now be her new fear...

Red put his head down and started swimming frantically toward shore. When he looked back he saw Beatrice a little behind him, and the crocodile gaining on them.

Good, he thought, maybe the crocodile would be distracted by the taste of noblewoman and allow him to escape.

He was just about to keep swimming when the ship erupted in a huge fireball behind them, sending little pieces of flaming wood everywhere.  The explosion also illuminated the crocodile, dark scaly skin and gleaming white teeth -- with a distinct red tint.

Red stopped with a gasp and lifted a hand to his throat.  His scarf had fallen off of him and somehow found its way into the crocodile's teeth!

And soon Beatrice would find Red past her toward the crocodile, a feral look on his face.  "Keep going, I'll be right behind," he called out between breaths.  No crocodile was going to take his scarf!

Beatrice stopped suddenly, splashing about in place.
"What.. what on earth-" she squeaked. "Mister Vaa'tanen!"
She released a shrill sigh, her head spinning. "Are you insane?" She took a few paddles away from him- but damn it all! Could she just leave the damn pig headed man to die?

"MISTER VAA-TANEN- WATCH OUT!" For another crocodile was slithering up behind him!

The crocodile was getting nearer, and Red grinned wickedly like a feral cat.  Just was he was about to jump at it -

He heard Beatrice's shout and spun in place, eyes gleaming widely in the firelight as the second crocodile lunged out of the water and at him. His yell was soon muffled out as beast and man plunged back beneath the darkness. The crocodile with Red's scarf also dove, and nothing was visible save for the churning waters that indicated desperate movement underwater.

"OH GODS OF BAD FATE!" she exclaimed, and drew in the deepest of breaths before she too, dove underneath the dark waters like a mad woman. At first, she was groping blinding as she swam through the wild bubbles and scales of the beasts,b ut she was not without some self confidence in what she had planned, for her hat (which somehow remained strung across her head) was now plucked away as a hat pin was with drawn, and the first scaly creature she encountered she jabbed the damn thing into- and soon the waters went murky and red-
And the hurt crocodile bucked and moved ot the surface, rolling around as it's body began to burn all over from the poison that had been injected by Beatrice's own device. After all, who would consider a hat pin as such a weapon?

As the crocodile broke the water's surface and thrashed wildly in pain before shuddering and going still, its mate also surfaced thrashing about -- mostly because it had a wild-haired man wrapped around its scaly body.  Red's golden eyes gleamed in the firelight and it almost looked like he was... grinning.

"Almost got it!" he shouted over to Beatrice before a wave of river water filled his mouth and reduced his speech to a gargle.  The crocodile went back under, and then surfaced again still with a man clinging to his back.  And this time, Red had a hold of his red scarf.

He spat a stream of water out and turned back to the lady. "Got it! Now do that thing you do, and kill this beast!"

Beatrice was stunned at such a display (and dare she ever admit, impressed?), but when the man came after her with such a response, her squawk back had been, "I used my one and only hat pin on the other! What do you expect me to do now? Strangle that one with my clothes?"

Her voice had grown shrill as she looked around for any other crocodiles ready to feast, but it seemed Red was still attached to the only one that was a threat to them.

"Can't you just.. don't you have something in which to strike it?" she called after him, ears still ringing from the chaos.

"Must I do everything?!" Red replied in exasperation as the crocodile continued to thrash.  Of course he didn't mention the fact that she'd basically done all the work up until that point.  Instead he held on to the crocodile's head for dear life -- while extracting the little fish knife at his waist.  With a wild howl he plunged the weapon into the beast's mottled hide.

The crocodile responded by dragging Red back under the water with its wild thrashes.  The Kishahni held on for as long as possible before finally releasing the beast and desperately kicking to the surface, sure that at any moment a set of jagged teeth would dig into his leg and pull him to the bottom.

By the Gods' fates, the crocodile didn't attack him and broke the surface of the water right on top of Beatrice with a loud gasp, red scarf clutched tightly to his chest.

Beatrice half screamed half choked on the water at Red's sudden appearance and seeing the blood red scarf in his hand, she gave him a smack, though all it did was slap the water towards his face.


"I thought you were the crocodile!" And it was evident she was about to use the limp, lame remains of her hat in which to strike him with- had he been the beast. Though by the looks of it, the idea was still in the air, hand shaking as the hat was squeezed, shedding water.

Red's gasping mouth immediately filled with the dirty water she sprayed at him.  Fuck, she was irritating!  With a clumsy fumble, he grabbed a hold of her gloved arm.

"Less talking, more swimming!" he said and proceeded to kick his legs underwater, practically dragging her toward the sandy shore even as dozens of shouts rang out behind them as more people leaped into the water to escape the sinking, flaming ships.

Scrambling up onto the shore beside him, she turned back to the chaos and the sinking ship.

"Great... just great." She turned towards REd, and eyed him up. "So you're the hired help. What do we do now? I dare say traveling on foot as far as we need to go isn't an option." And she huffed further into shore, grimacing as her boots sloshed beneath her.

Red simply plopped into the sand, not even bothering to pull his feet out of the edge of water.  He was still breathing heavily, and took a moment before even having the energy to wrap the soaked scarf back around his neck.

Soon, debris began to wash ashore with them, pieces of flotsam, clothing, the like.  Ironically, not a single man swam ashore with them.  At from this distance, it appeared as though the survivors were all pulling themselves out at the other side of the river.

"Looks like we don't have a choice, eh?  Luckily we're on the right side of the river."  And with that he shot her another toothy grin.

Beatrice blinked and looked quickly to where the other men were. ANd she promptly stood up.
"Oh! But our men!"

Red spit out some leftover river water and pointed.  "Looks like they're Hakeem's men now."

And sure enough, across the river was the fat little jailer, soaked to the bone but otherwise doing just fine.  He seemed to have spotted the pair from across the river because he waved at them.  Even from a distance, his yellowed smile made Red's stomach curdle.

Sighing, Beatrice turned from the river and readjusted her hat.
"Well, there's no time to waste. We're still in crocodile territory and I don't intend to stay put to give them an easy meal." And she hefted up her soggy skirts away from her boots as she made her way across the rocky sands. However, tall reeds covered most of the area, and though hesitant a crocodile (or two) could be lurking within,s he used her senses to keep wary- after all, the thicker reeds couldn't house a crocodile- for they'd bend the reeds over.

"We should follow the river," she went on, gesturing forward and hoping Hakeem could understand, because when she tried to shout to him, it didn't seem like he quite understood, and she didn't want to keep shouting like some sort of a ninny.

Either way, her patience was thin, as was the line between them and the dangerous dark waters beside them.

"We might be walking a while. This river isn't known for it's slender bends. In fact, the Niafi river is by far one of hte widest rivers charted by man."

"Is that a fact? Tell me more, oh wise scholar," Red said with a smirk as they followed the water's edge.  Soon, the flames from the distant burning ships disappeared into the night.  The only visible light was the moon above, and the few torches burning from the other side of the river as Hakeem and his cronies followed their path.

After a while, Red stopped and crouched down among the reeds, watching as the torches continued following the river and then around a wide bend.  Like Beatrice said, it snaked across the landscape slowly and ponderously.

Then without missing a beat, Red abruptly turned and pulled Beatrice back the way they came.  "You'd think that man would know which direction the river leads, if it's so well charted.  Hakeem will be PIIIIIIISSED when he arrives back in the Jeweled City!"

And then he just burst out laughing at the thought!

"W-what?" Beatrice stumbled as he pulled her. "What do you mean- were we.." And then she gasped, a hand covering her lips. "Oh by the makers, how elementary a mistake!" And she couldn't believe she had been one to make it, too!

Red laughed again and tugged her along. "Honest mistake, sweetheart.  You just survived an assassination, and I'm impressed that you're not shaking in your wet boots!"

And after a while of walking through the thick reeds, Red looked up at the clear night sky and then abruptly turned left away from the river.

"This way. They'll figure out the mistake by morning but I know how to give us a head start."

She glared at the back of his head.
"If I were shaking in them it wouldn't be out of fear, I assure you!" she quipped. And as she peered up at the stars, she wished she would have thought of that, first.

"A head start... right, but we're down to just the two of this on this exposition now and we're walking through snake infested reeds. Crocodiles too, if we're unlucky enough," she reminded with a frown.

And as a bug whizzed past, she gave an exasperated huff and whacked it away with the back of her hand.

"And hungry night bugs, too," shew ent on with a sniff. 

Peering up at the stars, she peered back to Red.
"So you know which way we travel?" she asked, skeptical of him- only a little, because she still felt disoriented from the boat ordeal.

"Oh, I certainly do," Red replied, the only visible part of him being the glint of white teeth as he grinned at her.  And the silhouette of him swatting a mosquito from his face.

They walked in silence through the reeds for a little while longer as the Kishahni considered whether to tell her.  He certainly wasn't getting into her graces anytime soon (not that he cared), but all things considered...

"There's a little waterin' hole, Zagora, about half a day's walk this way, where we could buy ourselves a couple camels," he said, breaking the silence.  "Or at least get a hold of two of them with my five-fingered discount."  At that, he wiggled his thieving fingers at her.

"Truth be told, going this way would probably save us three or four days versus having taken the river all the way south and to the Coal Harbor.  I heard a couple sailors talkin' about Zagora last night, so ratface will know to follow us."

A bit more silence before he let out a sigh.

"And if we're being truthful... I was planning on jumping ship at the riverbend and heading south myself to get the Wings.  But y'know... on account of you saving my life and all, I figured I'd be nice to you."

See?! Let no man say that Red Vaa'tanen had no honor! Not that it mattered that Beatrice has saved his life twice now, once from the noose and once from the crocs. The second life-saving warranted some kindness in return, he guessed.  Feeling quite proud of himself for even thinking it, he smiled to nobody and puffed out his chest as they swam through the reeds.

"Zagora," she repeated, the words humming inside her head, and a damn mosquito hummed in her ear. She batted the thing away, then another before giving him an unamused look at his five fingered discount quip. She sighed through her nose.

"Though the boat sank, we're not entirely without money," she told him matter of factly. "We should have more than enough to buy ten camels, if we so wished."

Feeling a little better that they had some goal in mind, the comfort was quickly trampled by Red's reveal. Her eyes went wide, and before she could think better of it, she smacked his arm hard and barked out an accusing, "What?"

Oh, this man had her feathers ruffled alright! Red cheeked despite the cool night's air,s he took a firm grip of his shirt sleeve and glared.

"Let's get things straight here, Red," began her threat through biting words. "You'd be dead long before this whole river ordeal, and if I had entirely trusted you then, I'd be a bigger fool than I am now. Even an enemy of my enemy isn't fully a friend, so don't consider yourself too fortunate and slick." She dropped her grip on his arm, still growling. "You're not the only one that knows a thing or two about this area, or the Kishan. We're bypassing Zagora," and without further explaining, she turned westward in the reeds.

It was Red's turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed as Lady Beatrice stomped past him and through the reeds.  How had she turned this whole thing around on him? He had been in control!

And there was a better question as he hurried after her, careful not top step in a wet little pool of stagnant water.  "Waitaminute... what do you mean bypass Zagora?  Where are we going?"

Because they sure as hell weren't walking to Kishahn!

"Zagora is too conspicuous a place, and the best kept secrets are well....secret." She turned to him smugly. "I can get us to the Kishan in two days of less if I actually utilize this knowledge. We won't even need camel's."

Red was tempted to shove swamp mud onto her smug look, but instead started laughing.

"Two days, huh.  Lady, if you can get us to the jungle in two days WITHOUT camels... well I'll apologize for everything I ever did to you, and will do whatever you ask of me for the rest of my life."

"You'll be eating those words.." she went on, eyeing him skeptically. "But I'm still uncertain... Such secrets should not fall to the wrong sources. As tremendous as it would be to get there, and quickly, I have to think of my connections and if ego is worth the potential secrecy to become.. well, unsecret," she went on with a bit of a frown in his direction.
"And though we seemed to have saved one another's lives... I can only presume it was out of necessity. We've barely known one another over a weeks time."

Red looked at her as if she was a swamp monster just sprung from the marsh in which they waded.  "Lady, you can't start throwing a word like 'secret' around and then not explain yourself!"

He stopped for a moment to swat another mosquito out of his face, and then to reach under his shirt with a grimace.  When his hand emerged, it held a fat leech, which he promptly threw as far as he could.  Disgusting.

Beatrice gave a yelp and dodged the flying leech.
"Leeches.... not one of my favorite pests," she went on, nose wrinkling. Then she turned to Red, eyes sharp.
"I'm still debating if I can trust you."
Though the idea of getting their faster was almost too tantalizing to resist. Even still, she wouldn't give it to him so easily!

Red's face screwed up.

"Lady, if we're going to get to the jungle -- and then through the jungle -- in one piece, we need to start trustin' each other right now."

He plucked another leech off his side with a yelp and tossed it away.  That would leave a mark.  He looked at her again, and his face suddenly transformed into an expression a petulant five-year-old would make.

"Cmon... tell meeeeeeee!" came the whine.

If they weren't in an area where leeches were trying to crawl up her skirts, she'd have stop to glare at him properly, but as it were, she would have to settle for glaring at him as they walked.

"Really.. begging like a child won't help."

She never cared for crying children. Then again, even mother's, she'd seen, were repulsed by it.

The face immediately dropped, replaced by an indignant scowl.

"Well it was worth a try, I figured you rich folk were used to people babying up to you anyway. Fine, don't tell me. I'll just believe it when I see it."

Red was pretty sure he'd found all the leeches by the time they landed on firmer ground. And not a moment too soon, his boots were starting to squeak and suck on his feet again, from the algae and whatnot. He'd probably develop foot rot now, thanks to her.

The sky was starting to lighten up too. Dawn in the desert was a pretty sight and he couldn't help but marvel at it even as they continued silently on.

And that's when Beatrice's head bumped into Red's behind.

Red had barely stopped when he felt her thick cranium dig into his backside. With a yelp he leaped a yard forward and turned indignantly to her.

"You don't trust me, but you trust me enough to be ass-touchin' now, eh?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm looking for something." And she went about, digging in the grass.

"What, you lost an earring?" Red replied with a smirk.  Still, he was curious.

"Seriously, if you lost an earring, don't worry about it.  We have bigger problems, like getting to the jungle."

"Earrings are of no consequence. Besides, I wasn't wearing any when we were ceremoniously left without a boat." She was on her knees now, still dusting around. And then her hands felt over something rough. More groping lead to her finding an iron hook. Her eyes lit up.

"Help me remove the rest of the grass here." And as she was pulling some away, the moonlight exposed the possibility of a door. "This way will get us to the jungle." She told him, eyeing him for his response.

His curiosity having bested him, Red found himself on hands and knees as he began ripping away at the tall thick grass. His red scarf, still slightly damp from the water, fell in the way and he indignantly threw it over his shoulder.

And as the reeds parted, he stared down.  A trap door? Out here?!

"Miss Warner," he said with an impressed grin and a low whistle, "you ARE full of surprises."

Her grin grew more smug.
"Yes, let's just hope my tactics haven't become dated. When my father was alive we had connections to those who prefer to live beneath the river of reeds rather than within."
She gave a huff as she pulled the door, it giving way. She lifted it open, and a warm light from within welcomed them.

"Ladies first," she told him with a smirk, shimmying boots first down the now open hole. But she paused before she allowed herself to drop, craning her neck up at him. "Oh, and do be sure to close the lid tightly and trace your fingers over the mark there." She pointed to one such symbol of a green color. "It'll help keep this place well camouflaged from others."

Red wanted to say that he wasn't surprised, but couldn't bring himself to do it.  After all, a hole had just opened up in the middle of a swamp.

Wide-eyed and head shaking, he too dropped down the brightly lit opening and landed with a soft thud beside Beatrice.  Following her directions without a word, he quickly traced his fingers over the glowing glyph, and above them the door sealed itself.

Only then did it all catch up with him.  "Wait, what the hell is this?"

Did he just jump into a magical hole without thinking?  What was his problem?

She smirked.
"You can think of it as some sort of a hub.. You know, for quicker traveling."

He smirk turned crooked as he followed her.  "You rich folk sure own a lot of strange things."


Not that it surprised him, after all he was the brother of Opus Dey, one of the richest and most powerful men he knew.  Also one of the biggest assholes, but that was a different matter.

"If you consider knowledge something you own, then yes." she smirked back at him, and took her time strolling through this underworld labrynth. The walls here glistened with a faint shimmer all along the walls, which glittered even more purposefully in chiseled recesses in the walls.
"Knowledge is key in the world of men." And she paused at the end of the hall where the path parted, and the center piece looked to be constructed of a circular block, which she now stepped on.

"Secrets, however, are the key to the world of women. Come, stand by me," she gestured. "And give me your hand." And she extended it, palm open.

He wrinkled a nose even as he took her hand.  "Guess I need to start playin' my secrets closer to the chest eh?  Otherwise I'll be the poor one between the two of us."

Red peered down at the block.  "Hey, should I be expecting anything here?  I know you're full of surprises, but this is one time I'd rather not be shocked."

She rolled her eyes and took his hand firmly, and pulled him just a bit less than gentle towards her.
"Just close your eyes," she told him, not desiring to argue or even give too much 'away'.
"I trust you enough, but I'm sure you, of all people, understand why discretion is necessary."

"You do what you gotta do to survive," he replied with an overly exaggerated nod before closing his eyes.  Or you just act really stuck up, said the voice in his head.  Well, that wasn't fair.  She HAD saved his life.

Once certain his eyes were closed enough, she turned from him and moved her hands along the rocks. It took her longer than she'dve liked, but after a few moments of fondeling, Red would hear a click, then a few chattering gears as the wall rumbled.

Her hand went to his shoulder.
"Come on. The door only stays open for but a minute."
She only thanked the Gods she still remembered how to open that blasted door!
And when he'd finally open his eyes, right before him was the opening to a whole other room.

Red opened his eyes, expecting to see the lush greenery of home before him.  Instead, there was just another room.

"Wait, it didn't work," he said with a raised brow even as he unconsciously stepped toward the opening.

"That's because we're barely halfway there," she said with a sigh, but she was still smiling.
This room was peculiar, in that it incased an array of sculpted animals upon the walls, that of which held blossoms that opened and from that opening, magical light was cast and lead their way. It would then be clear this hall was very, very long.

He peered at her with a skeptical look, which quickly vanished as he entered the hall of sculptures. 

"So do we go through one of these animals, or do we just walk to the end of the hall?" he asked as he reached out to touch an ornately carved jaguar, the thought not even crossing his mind of whether he should be keeping his hands to himself.  "Because we could've done walking above ground too, y'know."

"Yes, but walking to the Kishan would take many moons."
She kept walking, not answering his first question, but there was definitely an air of amusement about her.

Red was too busy admiring the animals to notice her confident gait.  He paused in front of one brightly lit puma.  "Hey look, this one's me."

"You might be more animal than man," she quipped, looking back at him from where he was paused in the hall. "But you're certainly no cat."

"You're right," he nodded with another grin.  "I am a rabid cat."

She rolled her eyes.
"More like a stumbling oaf, or child..." She raised her brow at him. "Are you coming or would you prefer we slow down to take in the sights? Besides, the statue we seek is down there. The noble crane."

His nose wrinkled at her quip, but his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin.  "So that makes you a bird lady. Got it."

She raised a brow at him but kept walking. It didn't take much longer to reach the noble crane, to which she pointed to the writing at it's feet.
"See? Noble Crane." It was clearly labeled (though perhaps not in the common language) "Now... get down on your knees before him, as if you were knight kneeling before your king."

The grin on his face dropped when she told him to kneel.  By the spirits, had he not been down on his knees enough for a hundred lifetimes?  Though he supposed this Noble Crane wasn't holding a sword to his neck.  He wasn't so sure about her.

"Fine," he grumbled, dropping down to one knee defiantly before the carved crane.  It looked back at him with a lifeless stare, which made him ease up somewhat.  He turned to look back at Beatrice. "Do what you have to do, miss Warner, as long as we both get to the jungle in one piece."

He'd hear the sounds of coins slipping into, then through something, and bouncing inside the insides of the crane. Then he'd feel the breeze when Beatrice moved to sit herself beside him, and she smoothed her skirts out around her legs and knelt.

"I hope you can hold your stomach well."

It was all the warning he got, before a warmth of magic enveloped them. The world glittered away, and the once stagnant air from the tunnel soon morphed into the sweaty air of the Jungle. And when they'd open their eyes, they'd be kneeling before the very same statue in the midst of the heart of the Kishan.

Sighing, Beatrice rose to her feet.
"There." She puffed up her chest. "It was much faster traveling that way then by stork, was it not, Red?"

To say an odd sensation overtook him was to put it lightly.  The little carving-filled hallway melted away and morphed into the thick greenery of the Kishahn, but not before a lurching feeling bubbled up in the pit of his stomach and he felt as though he'd been turned inside out.

But suddenly he felt the humidity bear down upon the back of his neck.  Slowly, he opened his eyes to a familiar sight: trees stretching a hundred feet up, a lush canopy roofed overhead, vines of all shapes and textures crisscrossing like string.  A warbler's cry echoed in the distance, followed by a hundred other animal calls.

He was back.

Though she'd stood, he remained kneeling in awe.  A sunburned hand reached down and dug into the soil, likely untouched by man for thousands of years.  As the dirt crumbled through his fingers, a colorful bug skittered off his knuckles and into the brush.

"By the spirits," he breathed, looking up at her wide-eyed, "you actually did it."

She tossed a cocky grin to him from over her shoulder.
"Yes.. Yes I did." Without much hesitation, she strolled forward from the statue, leaving the kneeling man in her wake.

"Now, we haven't got much time until sunset. And I'd hate to be out here when it's dark," she went on with a sigh, traipsing through the thick jungle underbrush, and pulling out a small blade as she worked at cutting down a path.

Red's slack-jawed stare followed her back as she began to slowly cut a path through the thicket.  What the hell was she doing?!  This was Kishahn!

With a loud whoop he bound to his feet and pulled that sweaty, itchy shirt over his head.  It caught on his chin for just a brief moment before sliding loose, leaving him with nothing but trousers and that stupid red scarf dangling from his neck.  Stuffing half of the shirt into the band of his pants like some sort of towel, he strode toward the nearest vine-covered tree and -- with almost a practiced ease -- scaled twenty feet up its thick trunk.

"If it's the dark you're worried about, why go forward?" he called out to her.  "When we can go UP?  You've been here before, surely you can climb!"