|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 2, 2019 16:33:57 GMT
“Please, Thea? Please?” Pip was sitting cross-legged on the workshop table, gazing admiringly at the genasi.
Thea felt, not to put it lightly, like a speck on the bottom of a boot heel, ground down into near nothingness against the floor. She felt like a wadded up tissue that had been used, crumpled up and thrown away, then picked up and used again. Her head was throbbing, a steady ache centered behind her face, and even now she felt the urge to sniffle, as if it might reduce some of the heavy blockage in her nose. Her throat hurt with every swallow, her chest was heavy and aching.
In short? Thea had a cold.
It was well deserved; a few days earlier, a trip outside the city to attempt to commune with a storm had soaked her to the bone. She had woken up the next morning with all these symptoms plus a fever, and had been unable to even get out of bed the last few days.
Today, at least, she’d felt well enough to rise, and drag herself into the workshop to finish up a few pieces. And there she had been - uncomfortable but productive - when Pip had found her.
“Please?” Pip asked again. “I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else I could turn to,” the little apprentice lowered her gaze to the ground. “I told Dharkand about it but he said I was making excuses not to work the front. And that’s not it! Honestly! Please?”
Thea pushed a lock of unusually limp hair out of her face. She was sweating again, the genasi realized, a combination of the last lingering push of the fever and, likely, the heat of the workshop. It had been undeniably a mistake to come in today. Pip’s request was only making her headache worse.
“Pip, I can’t cover a shift for you. And you can’t use me to try and get out of your responsibilities at the workshop.” Thea said, firmly.
“It’s not that!” Tears were shimmering in the corner of the young apprentice’s eyes. “I’ll be there too! I just - I just don’t want to be alone if he comes back.”
Thea paused, looking closely at Pip. As far as she could tell - not that she trusted herself these days, Thea thought bitterly - Pip was telling the truth. At the very least, her fear was genuine. Thea grabbed a hand towel to wipe her face. All she wanted to do was go home and collapse back into bed, maybe eat some soup; her arms were visibly thinner than usual, with the last near full week of little appetite. Worse, the apprentice’s teary eyes were very close to sparking the same reaction in the genasi.
“Who is he?” Thea asked.
“Some man,” Pip was blinking rapidly, clearly trying not to cry. “I don’t know his name. He keeps coming to the shop and - and - he scares me, Thea! But when I told Dharkand he didn’t believe me, he said I was just lying but I’m not, he’s come four times and he scares me!”
Thea sighed. “So, what, Pip, you want me to sit up there with you?”
“Please Thea?” Pip whispered. “Last time I called one of the other apprentices from the back when he came and I got in trouble with Dharkand. I don’t know what to do, and then I thought maybe - maybe you could be there. Please?”
Thea sighed. “When does your shift start?”
“An hour!” Pip perked up as if the answer was already yes, tears disappearing into a smile.
“All right,” Thea smiled. “Just this once. And if this man comes back and is as creepy as you say, I’ll talk to Dharkand about it.”
“Thank you Thea! Thank you!” Pip lunged forward and hugged her. “I’ll make you a bowl of sage rosemary peppermint steam! My mom sent the herb mixes with me for if I ever got sick. You’ll see! You’ll feel better in no time!”
In truth, after a short wash, a change of clothing, a bowl of steam to the face (with a towel draped over her head) and a cup of tea dutifully fetched by Pip, Thea felt remarkably better. She joined the little apprentice at the front of the shop, sitting on a second stool which Pip had brought out for her, wearing a thick, heavy sweater over a pair of leggings, and sipped her tea, ready for customers.
The shop itself wasn’t as big as Thond’s workshop. There were a few small rooms off the side for client meetings, one of which Thea had priority for. Those were closed today, with just the big main room open. Two big windows opened the room out to the street, and the room was full of tables, displaying the incredible range of glassware that Thond could make - from the practical to the magical to jewelry, even, at the back, to art.
One small exhibit was even devoted to Thea’s freeblown pieces; today, the centerpiece was a dragon like something from a tale told to children. The green-gray creature was curled around a sparkling pile of gold treasure, a wisp of glass smoke rising from its nostrils. Next to it was her kraken, a small, dark black creature centered in an oval of deep blue glass, textured tentacles rippling around it and reaching out with such life that one half expected them to twitch. A few other more artistic pieces sat there as well, mostly Thea’s favorites.
In short, the shop was a place of business, but also of art, as could be said of many of those stores in the Trades Ward, beckoning cheerfully to passers-by, promising them something new and beautiful inside.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 2, 2019 19:38:49 GMT
Waterdeep had been interesting thus far, to say the least.
First, he stood taller than most when walking down the streets, but there was the other occasional figure that stood, quite literally, head and shoulders above the rest- several goliaths, a dragonborn here or there, and the rare half-orc that leaned more to the Orc side of the scale in frame. There were also a higher number of gnomes and halflings, and at one point, Goromitali had offended a set of svirfneblin gnomes by stepping over them instead of stopping on a dime one random corner in the Dock Ward. That was interesting, and he had simply tilted his head, looking at them the entire time before leaving them with a simple "sorry" for their rather long-winded ramblings.
Second, there was a lot to the City of Splendors, and that would be an understatement. Every street had something happening on it, be it an argument, someone getting thrown out of a tavern, or even a drunkard sizing him up. Still, though, Goromitali simply listened with a head tilt in either direction. Observing the man to be drunk, the dragonborn's nostrils caught wind of a strong drug of some kind and recoiled, offended at the scent. The drunk man also got a simple "sorry" for when the monk tripped him as the man swung, using his long, scaled, dragon legs to stomp on the drunkard's own foot before moving past him.
Third, while Goromitali didn't like the level of ambient noise, there was a lot that caught the chartreuse eyes of the green dragonborn. Dragonborn, to a leser degree, did appreciate art, wealth and general gold, though anything made of copper was almost completely ignored by the monk. After a lunch of butter-cooked tiger prawn and some root vegetables he had gotten from a tavern that he had found but not ultimately decided to stay at, he made his way into the second district he had been interested in- the Trade Ward. That's what led him into a shop with a big main room and serveral smaller rooms. The two big windows had caught his attention, and upon peering through one of them, his figure shadowed through the glass, the large dragonborn entered the door into the glass shop carefully as to not hit his head like he had done several times throughout his first day in Waterdeep proper.
He stood just under seven feet tall, an imposing form through the door as he stepped in. Scales of deep emerald greens wrapped his body like armor, and while he didn't wear a shirt of any kind, he did have a harness wrapped around him, almost like a thick pair of suspenders, but with pouches here and little trinkets there. It let down to a leather strap that wrapped around his mid-section, and a pair of thick, well-worn pants that went down to his knee before being tied off. Raptor like digits flattened with each surprisingly quiet step as, very respectfully, this large, dragonoid form stepped through the shop, his eyes almost immediately focusing on the centerpiece in the room- how could he have not seen that first? It was a rather impressive green dragon curled around a pile of gold with smoke wisping from it's nostrils.
A low "mmmm" of approval came from his throat as he tilted his head slightly, taking a step to the side, then another back, tilting his head the other way as he quietly observed. He knew the other people were there, in the shop, two humanoids of some kind, but hadn't really made any form of motion to them other than the quiet head nod before coming to the dragon, recognizing they were there in the first place.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 2, 2019 19:52:41 GMT
“I do miss being at home sometimes,” Pip admitted. Her shift had seen a few customers so far, sending the little apprentice scurrying out into the shop to try and help them. Now there was a bit of a lull, and she was sitting on the counter, very unofficially, swinging her legs back and forth. Unlike Thea, who was dressed casually in a thick (long) blue sweater, Pip wore the official apprentice’s tunic for the Thond workshop, a very official looking brown color with a badge over the heart representing Thond and the glassmaker’s guild. In theory, it should have been starched clean and crisp; in practice, Pip’s tunic had several increasingly prominent wrinkles.
Thea was breathing in deeply the steam from a second, piping hot cup of tea; her throat felt immeasurably better for a little honey. She hadn’t asked where Pip had got it from; honestly, she thought it was probably better if she didn’t know. “Your family is here in Waterdeep, aren’t they?”
“Yes!” Pip beamed. “And my brother comes by to visit sometimes – he has his own apprenticeship – but it’s not the same, really. Didn’t you live away from home, when you were an apprentice?”
“Not really,” Thea took a small sip of tea, then went back to cradling the sturdy mug under her nose. She crossed her legs, shifting her weight on the stool. “Actually,” she grinned at Pip, “Urmlaspyr isn’t nearly as big as Waterdeep, you know. There are a couple glass workshops, but I happened to already live right on top of the biggest one. So when I started my apprenticeship, they just let me sleep at home.”
“Wow!” Pip sighed. “That must have been nice! I don’t mind being in the dorm, but it’s really loud sometimes. Salantham is the dorm master and he snores, you know.”
“No!” Thea began to giggle. “Does he?”
“Yes!” Pip began to giggle as well. “Yes, he snores really, really loud!”
Both were still giggling when the door swung open, and the enormous dragonborn entered, ducking his head to avoid hitting the ceiling. Both Thea and Pip quieted immediately, eyes wide. The dragonborn had nearly two feet of height on Thea, and Thea had more than half a foot on Pip.
None the less, the little apprentice shot a wide-eyed gaze at Thea, then, bravely, hopped off the counter and made her way over to the enormous dragonborn as he approached the freeblown glass exhibit. Thea watched, taking another very cautious sip of tea, from behind the counter. She smiled at the low hum of appreciation of the glass dragon, happy that such a depiction wasn’t offensive to the dragonborn.
“Good afternoon, sir!” Pip stood up as straight as she could in her little uniform, voice squeaking faintly. “Can I help you to find anything?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 2, 2019 20:13:28 GMT
An apron-clad shop-hand, a young half-elf (noted by the pointed ears) approached him, and he turned his attention from the statue of the green dragon on a horde's worth of gold to this small child. Goromitali would tilt his head downward, looking down. He was about two of her tall and three- maybe four- of her wide. He would blink before answering, taking a moment to process what was said. In a deep voice, Goromitali would speak to her- or at least try.
"No," he would politely rumble, if there was ever such a thing. "Mmm. Just looking." His words were accented and strong, as if he was trying not to drag out the first letter of each word. Still, though, mentally, he knew talking would drive him to become better, as with any training, so he pushed onward in this conversation, despite the fact he wasn't the most talkative dragonborn.
"Did you make this?" Goromitali would ask, looking back toward the statue next to him. "It is... very good."At this point, the green dragonborn would crouch down a little bit- not to offend the shophand, but to see some of the details a little more closely at the base, specifically the gold and the scales painted into tail.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 2, 2019 20:31:05 GMT
Pip’s eyes shot wide at the rumbling voice of the dragonborn, but she stiffened her back and stayed politely close to him, clearly trying to carefully gauge distance – far enough way that she could look up at his face, but not so far that it was rude. Thea, watching, hid her smile behind the mug of team.
“Oh! Of course, sir,” Pip nodded, seriously. “You are most welcome! Please let me know if you have any questions.”
The dragonborn responded, a few moments later, and Pip beamed, hopping back to avoid the dragonborn’s bulk as he crouched down. “Oh no, I wish! The work here in Thond Glass and Glazing is made by many different glassblowers!” Pip paused, looking again at the dragon, then over at Thea, who was still watching from behind the counter. “… But…”
“Actually, Miss Thea is the one who made that!” Pip spun, gesturing towards the counter and the air genasi sitting behind it. “Er, um, Miss Baring. Er, I mean, Master Baring!”
Thea half choked on her tea, eyes watering, and managed to swallow the sip she’d been in the middle of. She cleared her throat, set the still steaming mug of tea down, and hopped off her stool, walking around the counter to smile at the dragonborn.
“I’m glad to hear you like it,” Thea said, simply, clasping her hands behind her back. Her face was still a little red – particularly around the nose – but her voice was clear, much clearer than it had been earlier. "I enjoyed making it," she grinned, cheerfully.
The little heap of gold coins was textured – not just to convey the impression of a stack of fake gold coins, but even with different little ridges and detail on the outside of the outermost pieces, as if they were really different coins. There was even a faint sparkle to them, in the shop’s light, although it would be clear they were only glass and paint, not real gold. The scales were equally detailed, and the dragon’s color wasn’t all uniform; it shifted, darker on the top of the tail and lighter on the bottom, with even a few little battle scars etched in.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 2, 2019 21:11:54 GMT
At the motion toward and mention of Miss Thea- Miss Baring- Master Baring, Goromitali's eyes shifted over toward the... humanoid that he couldn't quite place. Granted, he didn't know her race, but he did realize that she wasn't feeling one-hundred percent. As she half-choked, he would tilt his head, taking in Thea, as if movement was what caught his attention. She was a master craftsman, at least from what the apron-clad small one had said, and Goromitali could respect the amount of training it took to be considered a master in something.
"I can tell," the dragonborn would stand back up. He was respectful, opting not to touch the glass art as much as he wanted to feel the texture of the details on the dragon. From the faint sparkle of gold to the scales and shifted color that came with age, complete with the battle scars of various encounters over a life-time, Gorom would at least appreciate it, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to purchase something of this caliber. That would require a permanent residence and disposable income, and he wouldn't be ready for that anytime soon. If anything, he wouldn't even be within the boundaries of Waterdeep, opting to be a little more away from the assuredly active nightlife of the town's various districts.
"Master Thea Baring-" Goromitali pieced together the name from what the apprentice had said- "I am Goromitali. I appreciate your artwork," he would speak, looking away from the dragon that had caught his attention and to the kraken that was next to it on the display he was near. "The sssquid is also nice-" Goromitali liked squid, a rare treat indeed- "though I think it is... not proportionate?" Goromitali hoped that was the right word as he stumbled through it well enough. He would look through the rest of them as well, a small, toothy grin of his own, accented by the sharp point at the end of his snout.
"Do you make beads?" Goromitali would ask, taking a quiet moment to appreciate the general artwork presented in the display. "I am afraid I do not have much in terms of gold, but I would like to have sssomething that I could add to my bracelet." The dragonborn would hold up his wrist with a well-kept leather strap had several different beads of various colors and materials woven throughout with strings of miscellaneous materials, some thin rope strands tied together, a small leather lace, and a strand of purple silk that stood out with some of the more expensive looking beads and rings. What may have caught her off-guard, though, was probably the pinkie digit that was missing from that hand at the knuckle, though it didn't seem fresh, and it didn't seem to bother him either way, so it was probably an old wound.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 2, 2019 22:32:39 GMT
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Goromitali,” Thea made a small half-bow at the waist. Her voice was crackling a little, and she cleared her throat, then coughed once off to the side. “I am grateful for your appreciation.”
Pip dashed off and returned with the tea, pressing it into Thea’s hands.
“Thanks Pip,” Thea cleared her throat, taking another sip and holding the cup once more.
Goromitali commented on the kraken, and Thea grinned. “I saw a kraken once, when I was a small girl,” she explained. “This is what I remember it looking like, although it may well be more my imagination than my memory.”
Goromitali moved on, surveying the rest of the artwork.
Pip’s hand tugged on Thea’s sweater, and she stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Thea’s ear. “Did you really see a kraken? A real kraken?”
Thea grinned at her, one hand ruffling the half-ef’s hair. “I did! It was a long time ago, I was about your age actually.”
“Wow…” Pip’s eyes shone.
Thea and Pip both turned back to Goromitali when he spoke. Thea smiled. “It would be my pleasure,” she said, sincerely. “I have some beads, but none out here. If you would excuse me, I would be very happy to go and fetch them.”
Once it was agreed, Thea set the cup of tea down on the counter, and disappeared into the back.
Pip shifted, once, eyes on Goromitali’s hand. Her gaze dropped to her own hands, then back to his. “… What happened to your hand?” Pip asked, curiously, professional façade largely gone by now.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 2, 2019 23:13:42 GMT
"Oh?" Goromitali stood corrected. "I apologize. I have never ssseen a kraken, so I assumed. Pardon," the dragonborn would bow his head lightly at the mistake. He would now imagine that a kraken just looked like a larger squid, and if they weren't ancient sentient engines of primordial destruction, the dragonborn would have probably imagined them tasting just the same.
Goromitali would have to go back to the Dock Ward in the next day or two to see if he could track down cooked squid.
He heard the two whispering back and forth, deciding to not interrupt, but instead, listen to how they were talking. The dragonborn knew he had to work on his "s-"es a little bit, along with not starting every consonant as harshly has he had been. Had they been speaking in one of the other languages, though, he would have been perfectly fine. He would nod at Master Thea Baring's request as the woman excused herself, setting the tea down on the counter before he turned to look at the younger woman that was now speaking to him again.
"My hand?" the green dragonborn would ponder, an eye-ridge going up in question before looking down to his own hand. Right- he was missing a digit at the knuckle. As Pip asked about it, Goromitali would remember-
The thump of the greataxe would knock him from his daze, conveniently timed from a wagon wheel outside hitting a small hole in the road, muffled through the front of the shop. It had only been a second, and the dragonborn spoke in the same quiet thunder he had before the scene had played behind his eyes. "Accident. As a hatchling," Goromitali would slowly take his left hand into his right, rubbing the end of his hand before taking a couple more steps, opting to turn back and look through some more of the art, clearing his throat as quietly as he could.
"Have you made anything, child?" he would ask Pip, coming across several more of the glass sculptures on his perusal of the shop.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 3, 2019 0:20:32 GMT
“Oh,” Pip was quiet, hands locking behind her back. She twisted, back and forth, then blurted out. “I’m sorry for asking, it was rude.” She followed along behind Goromitali with quick, light steps, needing several for each of his, and hopping back when he turned back, leaving a respectful distance between them.
“I have but… nothing good enough to be sold here yet,” Pip’s shoulders slumped a little. “I’m still very new at my apprenticeship,” she confessed, looking at the freeblown glass sculptures on the table. “And – it’ll be years and years before I’m as good as Thea. But I will be!” The little half-elf straightened up, fire and determination burning in her eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone else who’s as good at freeblowing though,” Pip admitted. “So – maybe I won’t be as good as Thea at that but… I’ll have my own specialty by then!”
The door opened again, and Pip looked up. She froze, whatever greeting she might have made dying in her throat, and made a little soft whimpering sound, shifting to hide behind Goromitali, his bulk more than sufficient to shield her.
The man entering the store wore power like a cloak – and also, literally, he wore a cloak, a rather expensive looking one, and two heavy looking metal gauntlets, decorated with what looked like scowling golden ogre faces. A rapier hung at his belt. The effect might have been even grander, if it weren’t for the vein which seemed to be faintly twitching at the corner of his eye, the dark circles beneath them and the heavy frown that seemed permanently etched on his forehead and around his mouth. He took a few steps into the shop and looked around, somehow frowning even more deeply.
Thea emerged from the back of the store, carrying what looked like a small basket of beads, a cheerful smile on her face. “Here are the – ” She stopped abruptly, looking at the door, eyes wide.
“Thea!” Pip broke from Goromitali and ran to the genasi, latching on to her arm. “It’s him,” she whispered, switching from common to elvish, evidently trying to keep the conversation private. “It’s him, the scary man I told you about, he’s here!”
“Marius?” Thea asked, eyes wide.
“You,” Marius’s voice was a deep, low growl, and he seemed to exude menace as he took a few steps further into the store. “Do you have any idea what your harpy b*tch of a friend did to me? Do you have any idea how much I suffered because of her – the embarrassment, the humiliation? You should have been flattered that a man like me was interested in an ugly wh*re like you – and instead you sent that – that thing after me.”
With a flourish, Marius drew the rapier, advancing slowly.
“Pip, go behind the counter,” Thea said, eyes fixed on Marius, setting the bowl of beads down and taking a half-step forward.
“Thea!” Pip squeaked, then rushed behind the counter, crouching down to hide.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 3, 2019 0:47:18 GMT
Goromitali would approve of Pip with a nod. "With training, desssire, and time, anything is possssible, child," Goromitali would agree. "Jussst remember that everyone isss different. The path you take will not be the sssame asss the path Massster Thea Baring took," the green dragonborn would turn to Pip as the door opened, and Pip turned to the door before freezing, the words not even making it out of her mouth. It was a weird scene, really, to watch someone go from excited to pale in a single second. The green dragonborn turned toward the door as Pip shuffled behind the much larger humanoid between her and whomever had just walked into the shop.
The dragonborn's eyes fell upon this man, and he would simply turn his head and watch. He seemed... tired. Frustrated. It all happened moderately fast, but the monk would simply study the situation and wait. Pip broke for Thea. Thea recognized this Marius. Marius drew a weapon. Pip went into hiding, Thea stepped forward, and Goromitali waited, stepping behind him calmly, quietly. He would loom over this noble, the slight smirk from talking about training and paths gone from his face, replaced by a dour look and pressed lips with several of his teeth sticking over the edges of his mouth.
"Excussse me," Goromitali would speak politely. "The choice of language isss inappropriate in front of a sssmall child," the monk would stand, hands behind his back, but not threatening outside of his presence. "And thisss isss a glassss ssshop, not a weapon-sssmith. You will have to go elsssewhere to get your weapon repaired."
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 3, 2019 1:07:05 GMT
It was hard to imagine how anyone could not notice someone of Goromitali’s size; the dragonborn literally towered over the genasi and half-elf. Marius was closer to Goromitali in height, but the dragonborn still had more than half a foot of height on him, and easily a hundred and twenty plus pounds. That, and he was a deep green dragonborn, who are typically hard to miss.
Perhaps it could be called tunnel vision? Whatever the explanation, Marius seemed genuinely surprised at the dragonborn looming behind him and breathing down his neck; he actually jerked forward abruptly, before glancing half back at Goromitali.
“This is none of your business, dragonborn,” Marius said, firmly. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d better stay out of it.” He turned back to Thea, advancing a few more steps forward.
Thea’s hands were up at mid-chest, palms flat and facing out towards Marius. “Marius,” she said, quietly, “he’s right. Please put the sword away. What Citrine did to you was wrong, very wrong – and she went to jail for it, as she deserved to.” The very last thing Thea felt like doing right now was defending Citrine, and so, with only the faintest tinge of guilt, she made absolutely no attempt to.
“And you bailed her out!” Marius snapped. “Do you think I’m some ignorant commoner? You're going to pay for what she did for me!” He took another step forward, then lunged at Thea with the rapier, the point flashing towards her.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 3, 2019 1:08:48 GMT
((Marius attacks Thea!
Attack roll: H|oEOcSO1d20+6
If successful, damage: 1d8+4))1d20+6·1d8+4
|
|
|
|
Post by Ossular on Mar 3, 2019 1:29:34 GMT
Goromitali would tilt his head one way as Marius approached Thea. From this angle, he saw two, maybe three of the tired noble who walked away from him. Goromitali would tilt his head the other direction. He would watch the nobleman lunge forward, stabbing into Master Thea Baring. There was an illusion here, Goromitali was sure, and he didn't want to take the chance to hit Thea or Pip by swinging through whatever was happening before him. So, Goromitali would judge the distance.
The large dragonborn would take a step back, minding all of the glassware, then another to the side. Between two display cases, he could still see the images. Taking another step back, Gorom would hold up two fingers in the shape of an "L" before him, as if he were judging the distance between himself and Marius. He would take an inhale, feeling something shift within him on an exhale, then, he would take a much larger inhale. His already massive chest and solid core would inflate with the deepest breath he could muster, and Thea and Pip would see this green dragonborn exhaust that deep breath into the direction of all of them.
A cone of thick, putrid, posionous gas cloud would pour forth from Goromitali, snaking it's way into the air, enveloping the displays, the shops and blotting out the windows for a second with rolling wind. However, the exhale would fade away right after it consumed Maurius, leaving Thea and Pip unharmed, though their nose would still be assaulted by the stench of what could only be described as decomposing wild boar dipped in an acid wash. Marius, the poor man, would be the one breathing in the pure, unadulterated toxicity of the green dragonborn's poison breath.
(Marius needs to roll a Consitution Saving Throw; DC 11 to reduce the damage to half damage.)
Green Dragonborn Breath Weapon Damage:
Y0dXKd882d62d6
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 3, 2019 1:35:41 GMT
(Marius rolls his saving throw!)
nBgVK34y1d201d20
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Mar 3, 2019 1:47:35 GMT
Thea shrieked reflexively as the rapier bit into her side, stumbling back and gripping the counter. Blood matted her torn sweater, soaking into it. That had hurt; Thea didn’t think she was seriously injured, but it had really, really hurt; the feeling of the blade plunging into her was one she didn’t think she’d forget any time soon. She gritted her teeth, pressing one hand slowly against the sweater, keeping it against the injury; with each beat of her heart, Thea could feel a little more blood flowing into the sweater.
Pip screamed, peering over the edge of the counter, eyes wide and horrified.
And – a cloud of what looked like thick gas seeped into the room from the dragonborn, blotting out the displays, covering the windows, and trickling straight into Marius’s lungs.
Marius choked, his eyes widening, his face turning nearly as green as Goromitali; he dropped to his knees, the rapier clattering to the ground, and promptly threw up on the floor.
That was the moment when Pip made a break for it, skirting the edge of the nasty cloud and sprinting towards the door. “Guards! Guards!” She shrieked, skittering out into the street, a native Waterdhavian with an excellent knowledge of how quickly guards responded to incidents in the trade ward – even when summoned by someone in an apprentice’s uniform.
Thea was shivering, holding onto the counter, hand still pressed against her side. She looked up at Goromitali, managing a faint smile. “Thank you, Goromitali,” Thea said, quietly, slowly shifting away from the counter, wincing a little as she straightened up.
A moment later, and two guards rushed back into the shop with Pip.
“That’s him!” Pip was half-sobbing, pointing at Marius lying in his own vomit on the ground. “That’s him! He came in here and he – he attacked Master Baring!” Pip sobbed a little harder, starting to shake now.
“Oh, Pip,” Thea took a step forward, hand bloody where it had pressed against her side. “I’m fine, sweetheart, I’m fine.”
There was a burst of noise from the back, and a young dark-skinned man rushed out. “Pip, if I told you once I told you a thousand times not to – Thea?” His eyes dropped to the figure on the floor, and bulged outwards. What looked like six apprentices were goggling at the door behind them, jaws dropping as they peered out at the scene.
“Everyone quiet!” The guardsman roared. “You – “ he pointed at the man who’d burst out from the back. “You, take those kids and go back inside, please! Let us get this sorted out.”
“It’s okay Dharkand,” Thea had an arm wrapped around Pip, hugging her tightly to her unbloodied side as Pip sobbed into her sweater. “I’m fine – I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“He attacked you, ma’am?” The guardsman paused. “Pardon me – Master Baring?”
“Yes,” Thea said, firmly. “Luckily this gentleman was here to defend me,” she glanced at Goromitali.
That seemed to be enough; the second guardsman knelt next to the twitching Marius, easing his cloak and gauntlets off and replacing them with handcuffs.
|
|
