Printable View
The docks on a good day smelt only like salt. On a bad day, every vice and sad story clung to your nostril hairs. Though this was their stomping ground, Hoar and Dult never quite got used to the ever-present reminder that they were in the arse end of nowhere.
“Doesn’t look too busy,” the squirrel said, perhaps a little premature.
Sixteen ships moored on the harbour, each a different style and with a different purpose. The Harbour Master had given them a brief account of their cargo, the usual affair, bananas, spices, passengers looking for a fresh start. The gruff looking human had gone on to tell them precisely how to do their job and why he did not think the City Watch belonged here.
“Yet,” Dult corrected.
Hoar nodded. It took them three hours to get their brief, and then patrol the outlying streets to check for roadblocks and signs of trouble. Periodically, an owl swooped down and scared the crap out of them. Messages passed back and forth between patrols gave no hints that trouble was expected.
“Let’s take a pew on the marina until the ships from Raiaera come in.” Hoar pointed to the tree-lined wall front that offered daring citizens the chance to get a brief taste of nautical life (before the smell got too much and they ran back to the relative safety of the inner city).
The mercenary did not need telling twice. Feet flopping against flagstones, stepping around seaweed and over drunken sailors, the duo found a nice spot between a junk and a galleon and perched on a bench that had seen better days. The dedication read ‘To Uncle George, who swallowed too much’.
“What did you squirrel out?” Dult said with a coy smile.
Hoar produced a block of cheese and some jam in a glass jar. They had an unwritten rule that lunch was whatever they could take out of the Watch House without incident. Dult added his doughnuts to the pile, and wrinkled his nose.
“We need to work on your sweet tooth…” Hoar blinked. “Teeth problem,” he snatched the biggest doughnut before Dult could object. He stuffed it in his mouth as quick as he could. “Met me melp mith mat!”
“I wiped my nose on that,” the mouse said smoothly. Hoar stopped chewing, just long enough to doubt wherever his friend was telling the truth, and then chewed on regardless. “We’ll save the jam and cheese for later. The bakery on Houghton Corner should be open all night to get some seeded loaf.”
Since they had a long day ahead, they kept their stomachs light and spirits high. When things did go down, the last thing either of them wanted was a good gut stitch to ruin a high-speed chase.
“Sure you won’t come out after?”
Dult shook his head, but kept his gaze out on the blue waves lapping towards the shore.
“Tomorrow is the anniversary of dad’s death. Got to go to the Abbey.”
The last time Sage had been anywhere near any sort of docks, he had ran afoul with the wrong crowd and had a terrible day overall. Today promised to be different, today he had picked a place where the city watch was a lot more dutiful with their responsibilities.
He hoped
The ocean air brought with it a stiff breeze that had refused to let up on throwing the boys hair to the wind, like a flag in the wind, it had simply refused to simply stay put until the wind began to die down. At which point he quickly used the moment to tie his hair back with a spare hair tie.
Today was a simple day for the young lad, a day to just venture out and enjoy the simple things. He had sworn away from the books of his father’s library this day, and from practising the sliver of magic that he knew. And so far the day was certainly pleasant enough, if one were to ignore the smell of cause. But it was the ships themselves that was more than making up for it. Rushing down the steps eager to arrive, the boy slipped around the corner to be awarded with the sight of a cutter and a caravel moored side by side.
They were a sight to behold, and briefly he began to wonder what had they seen, what tales they had to tell. He also wondered who the captain of each vessel was but thought better than to go and pester them just to allow him to walk on the deck for several minutes.
Sage didn’t want to disturb any of the sailors nearby, as few as there were they seemed terribly busy shifting the cargo that had been brought in by the galleon. He spent a time admiring the view, slowly feeling oddly self-conscious the more he lingered in one spot for too long. He must be a right sight, he thought feeling a bit more than a little awkward with himself. For all his apparent age and childlike wonder he actually felt more like an out of place tourist. “Which would be completely ridiculous?”
With a half-hearted sigh, and no longer inclined to just wonder around. Sage figured that spending the rest of the day observing the current ongoing from a vantage point would be much more pleasant. And a lot less awkward, the boy could just not shake the feeling that someone had been watching him. And quite frankly it disturbed him more than it ought to.
Sage fished out an apple from a small knapsack he had brought with him as he wondered over to the closest bench he could find. It looked like it had seen better days but he wasn’t too picky about where he sat and was more eager about his apple to really care.
He steered clear of the litter that someone had carelessly left behind and settled down to take a bite of his apple. But even as he bit into it he was stuck by the odd feeling that someone was watching him. The boy couldn’t see anyone who was looking his way, but that meant nothing, whoever was watching could be lurking in the shadows. “Please don’t let today be Scara Brae all over again…”
It was only by chance that Sage looked to what he thought was a pile of litter beside him, to the two critters that were minding their own business dressed in miniature clothing and armour that would look good on an adventurer. On the squirrel and the mouse however, the outfit looked …
The boy looked away. Fighting back the urge to take a second look to affirm what he had just thought he had seen. Instead he held up an innocent looking apple he had been thoroughly enjoying until that moment and wondered. “It wasn’t laced with something, was it?”
Dult and Hoar continued to eat amidst puerile jibes and jokes about seagulls. Only after ten minutes did they began to suspect they were no longer alone.
“Don’t look behind you, but I thin-“
Horace craned his neck.
“I said don’t look!” The mouse seethed.
Sure enough, a human was stood all too near to the edge of the docks. As far as being inconspicuous went, the duo had seen giants with better blending in skills. They looked at one another awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do. Did they carry on? Did they say hello? Did they shiv him in the small of his back?
“Hello?” Dult buried his dire thoughts quickly, remembering his training and pushing himself upright in a tumult of crumbs and lethargy.
Seagulls (they get everywhere), cawed overhead. The sun skittered between clouds, and Hoar followed suit with the enthusiasm of a dying rat.
“Can we help you, sir?” Dult repeated.
Bunny ears and mouse-tail pricked, and despite the smattering of leftovers, here before the apple-munching stranger were two of the Radasanth City Watch’s finest.
If there was one thing Sage needed help with at very moment. It would be how to find reality and take it home because it was quite obviously drunk. There was no faulting what his eyes were telling him however, there were two critters sat on the bench with him and they were talking to him. If there was any reason to start thinking he was drunk or believe he was having a lucid dream then this was it.
“…” His mouth opened to say, but silence was all that was forth coming as he tried desperately to make sense of what was before him.
A mouse and a squirrel, that much was obvious. Little creatures he had seen hundreds of times before. It should not have been that unusual to see a pair on the docks minding their own business. Save for the fact that one had just asked him if he could help, that was enough to give Sage pause for his entire day.
The day had taken a left turn had had not even had the curtesy to inform him. The blank stare that the boy had been giving the two critters slowly began to fade. A mouse and a squirrel were an everyday sight, but these two had to be something else entirely.
“A mages Familiar’s perhaps? Magic experiments that got free? Or are they simply a race of Demi-humans that no one has noticed?” His mind raced to come up with an answer. No, there was no use in such wild guesses, he mentally scolded himself and actually began to look at the two.
They were here for something, an afternoon lunch not unlike what he was doing. Was there more than that, the way the two were dressed looked like an imitation of some sort of barding, miniature weapons too.
Were they fighters of some sort?
No, no, no, he was still making wild guesses, but at the very least his felt his thoughts were returning to a something more cohesive.
“Ah, no… I. No, I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said hesitantly. He bit into his apple as he then made a point to not look at them. Sage struggled then to keep his attention back to the caravel with the beautiful white sails. The clipper to the side of him gently stirred, wood creaking as it shifted against its own moorings. He was here for the ships, a nice day out with nothing untoward happening. The fact that there were two such diversions sat next to him would in no way disrupt his day. And he was determined to keep it that way too…
“But if you don’t mind me asking” The boy said failing to keep the two critters out of his sight. His curiosity was now just eating him alive at this point.
“What is it you two are here for?” he kindly asked. He had come here to admire the ships, but this was way more interesting than that.
“My name’s Dult, this is Sergeant Hoar. We’re two of the Redwatch’s finest.” Dult beamed with conviction. It did not occur to him that so few of Radasanth’s citiezens knew about the small folk, never mind its representation in the City Watch.
“The…Redwatch?” Curiosity overruled the youth’s desire to not get involved.
“Oh, errr, sorry sir. We’re a part of the City Watch. Lots of small animals trying to do good throughout the city.”
“There are…more of you?”
“Hundreds,” Hoar smirked. “Under the floorboards.”
Dult swatted his companion’s shoulder, despite the fact that it was true. They had taken extensive professional development training days about how to handle informing the public about their kind. He tried very hard to not perpetuate the purview that, as a mouse, he was solely restricted to front door’s in skirting boards and consumption of cheese.
“So why are you down on the docks when the city’s teeming with…thespians.”
Dult chuckled.
“We like to eat lunch before going on shift, watching the ships come in with trouble and such.” It might have come across as rude if he said they wanted to avoid the noise. “What about you, sir?” He folded his arms across his chest and twitched his tail. His civic duty unbridled.
Behind them, seagulls cawed and spiralled over the remnants of the morning spawning. Tuna corpses bobbed to and fro on the churn, adding a portentous odour to the distant backdrop of revelry.