Pleasure Doing Business: Pyrotechnics and Peril

[Karuka]

Closed to Storm, continued from here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=6358).

Anger boiled inside Karuka's slender body with such ferocity that she could only remember one occasion when she'd felt such a rage. How dare he? How dare? Just because she was little and looked innocent and sweet didn't mean she was a helpless little mongrel out of some middle class Dheath family. Just because she'd smiled at him and laughed when he was clever didn't mean she'd cared one whit for what he thought he could do in bed. And just because he had a handsome face and a pleasant smile didn't mean anything.

Faces meant nothing, intent meant everything, as did proficiency in combat. She was from a fighting people, and wasn't about to take a man that carried a dagger like he didn't even want it and maybe had a magic trick or two. He was a businessman. Where was his hot blood?

The sand crunched softly under her feet and the cold night wind raked through her unruly curls as the stars shone fiercely down upon the sleeping city; stalwart and undying guardians and guides. And always, there was the sound of the land itself, buzzing blatantly in the back of her mind. It was something wild and feral, and appealed to her instincts more than anywhere else she'd ever been.

She could have laughed when she thought of what her reaction to Storm's advances would have been in a place like Radasanth. A puzzled stammer, an angry flush, a brief 'no,' and she'd have found another inn immediately. But now...she felt like a rushing wind. She couldn't just stop, not yet. She had to keep moving, and woe to anything that tried to stop her.

In her fierce pride, she had no idea she was being watched and stalked, more like prey than predator. The streets of Irrakam were a jungle, and she looked like a helpless antelope to the human versions of Fallien's karuku-tal. But for now, they just bade their time and waited. They'd let her tire herself out before pouncing.

It didn't take her unreasonably long, either. It had been an exceedingly long day, and the little red-head was exhausted now that the energy rush of yelling down an insult was dissipating and she realized just how cold the night was getting. She was all alone in an unfamiliar city after dark without a room.

For a moment, she regretted leaving Storm. He might have even taken her refusal to sleep with him graciously, he'd displayed a very cool head during the time she'd known him, despite being brash and arrogant. Could he really be blamed for acting on his impulses when she'd been a perfectly willing companion up to that point? She'd been incredibly insulting, with the way she'd thrown his gifts right back in his face. Her mother must have been turning in her grave to imagine her behavior toward a friend. A gift was all but a sacred trust; a sign of hospitality and cordiality. She'd broken that trust in the most blatant manner.

She shook her head violently, dismissing that train of thought. The only person whose needs and desires he'd thought of were his own, and at the very least, she'd let him stew over that. If they were to meet again, they'd meet again, maybe be awkward or maybe get over it, but for now, she needed to start looking for an inn with rooms. The low buildings didn't seem to offer much in the way of hints; everything looked much the same in the dark, especially since she'd never seen it in good light.

"'Eh! Gerl!" A voice called from a few yards behind her. The tone was enough to pump her already agitated senses back into a highly alert mode, and she whirled around to see a man with a gang of four or five behind him and a sword in his hand. "Road is ahrs at night, and there's a fee for passage. Ye can pay in gold or we can take it from ye in other ways."

If he'd been in biting range, Karuka would have been sorely tempted to bite his nose off, but he wasn't, so she slipped a rune out of her pouch, ready to use it. "Nice try, bu' y' caught me on a bad night. Try again t'morro', maybe y'll do better."

Her fingers traced over the rune as the bandits fanned out and drew closer. She might be able to take one out of combat with the flame, but the rest had swords and knew how to use them, and she was dressed in something less sturdy than her vlince. She didn't have the time to regret leaving the relative safety of the room. She just bit her thumb, started muttering her prayer, and hoped luck would pull her through.

As the fireball formed in her hand, an idea occurred to Karuka. She'd never tried to control what shape her little fireball took, ever. These men were close enough together that if she could spread the fire out, she could take two or three of them out entirely, since she knew from experience that beings who breathe fire most often die of it. If she could do that, the numbers against her would be tolerable, at the very least. Two or three on one were odds she was used to.

As the men advanced further and further, the fire elongated before her face, stretching out like a vicious grub, ready to suck the life out of those that approached it. She aimed it for the three at the center of their formation; leering men with faces that hid none of their desires. When she released it, the string of fire held its form hitting them square in the face.

Two of them dropped, hacking up blood and trying to breathe with burned out lungs, while the third, who hadn't been breathing in, dropped his sword and clutched his eyes, screaming. The two still standing looked warily at the redhead, who now held her staff aloft before her. Who knew what sort of magic she could conjure from that?

Deciding that this "helpless" female was not, in fact, so helpless, the two unharmed ones turned tail and ran, leaving their comrades behind. For the moment, the little red-head was safe, but she knew that she needed to find an inn for the night soon. She couldn't leave a big trail of bodies, it wasn't right and it wasn't necessary.

Her head now clear, Karuka started trudging through the sandy streets, looking for an inn with vacancies.

'Tis ay a pity I can' na be sweet all th' time...but ev'ry 'un knows...Irish lasses get mean when cross'd. It didn't really help that she was just being true to form, but she wished for some sort of stability, where she could just keep up her chipper and stupid act and never need to twist her red mouth in the vicious snarl it became during times of danger.

[Storm Veritas]

The behavior was so out of character for him, it made him positively irate. There was nothing that could justify the consistent stupidity of his choices; near pacifism, an irrational following of the sexy redhead, and now, of all things, following her out into Irrakam.

He had waited too long, and couldn’t find her, and the streets were dimly lit with only a few torches to supplement the pale yellow moonlight. There was reasonable commotion about, with people moving in and out, talking, and drinking out in the street. It was behavior that would not be tolerated in Radasanth, he thought, as he watched a fat man steady himself against a large food cart. In Radasanth, Storm thought, the police would go out of their way to stop such minutiae, but were completely incapable of stopping the mage from his own horrific crime sprees.

Don’t think of them now. You’re not that man anymore.

He tried to convince himself not to smile at the thought of his sadistic past, but he failed, hearkening back to a more hedonistic existence. If that Storm, the real Storm could see him pathetically follow a woman he barely knew out like some half-assed lapdog, he would be disgusted with the man who currently inhabited the form.

But I have to go.

It was true; there was something in him that had genuinely come undone, some unhinged acknowledgement that perhaps this was no ordinary girl. His feelings were strong; conspicuously so, he thought, and whatever it was that drove him would not listen to logic or reason. He felt possessed, outside of himself, and out of control. They were all bad things, and made him exceptionally tempermental.

“Excuse me” he began, chatting up an exceptionally large elf. The dark faced titan of a thing turned to him, a puzzled and instantly angry look about his face. The elf postured with sarcasm – how could this human be so brazen as to bother him?

“I need to find a girl who came through here recently. Pretty girl. Red hair, cloth dress. Probably walking with a staff. Can you help?”

The elf put his hands on his hips, making no attempt to stifle a laugh. His bulbous shoulders quaked as he chuckled, throwing his head up in hysterics as the young mage was pestering him with foolish questions.

“Boy, you don’t bother me with your ridiculous mortal pursuits… For I am…”

Storm Veritas was not impressed.

So enraged with the condescending attitude, so inherently askew following the series of insane decisions regarding the girl, Storm acted out of sheer frustration and anger. He stepped forward swiftly, extending his hand high above his head to take clasp of the throat of the elf. The elf looked down, confused and angered, reaching for Storm’s wrist as if to parry away a pestering fly.

Storm pivoted, clenching hold of the elf’s larynx and turning the man with him. The towering elf spun and crashed hard, falling in a roll that left Storm now towering over him. The strength of the sadistic Veritas was more than startling, and he had yet to use his most intricate of gifts – that blast of energy that would bring on the darkness.

“Don’t make me ask you again, elf.”

Storm’s eyes were thin grey slits as the elf looked up at him, a gaze of genuine terror painting his face. This was no normal human, and he had hunkered into the wrong battle to engage. He swiftly directed his aggressor towards the western side of town.

For his pleasantries, the elf was spared, as onlookers who had now spun to view the fight watched Storm stride westward. He looked crimson in the moonlight, his purplish skin filled with venom.

[Karuka]

She hadn't been able to find an inn; in fact, she'd wandered farther and farther from any sort of area that could even be deemed mildly hospitable. It was cold, too. The same clear sky that had let the rays of the sun pound mercilessly down on the land in the day, the same clear sky that displayed the stars in an untainted brilliance now, let all the heat leech from the merciless land at night. She'd climbed up onto one of the hot clay roofs, put on her sturdy vlince clothes for warmth as much as security, and wrapped tight in her thread-bare cloak.

It was late, much too late to keep walking the city, so she'd just spend the rest of the night out in the open. She was tired and from her waist down was sore thanks to the long camel ride, but her anger at Storm had dissipated. She knew, and had known from the beginning, that she should never have expected anything less from a man that had shown her kindness. There was no such thing as selflessness, and she knew that all too well.

She closed her eyes, trying to open herself to the calm of the night, but Fallien was not a calm land. It roiled and seethed around her, so agitated that sleep wouldn't be coming to her fast. Karuka had never set foot in a land so disturbed by its past and the violence within. It wasn't a comfortable place to be, and if the lass saw another sunset in Fallien, there would be a damn good reason.

The sound of footsteps beneath her caught her attention, and she rolled over to get a look. Two men stood there, right beneath her, consumed by the shadows. They didn't look up, seeming to think that having a desolate street was enough. From her perch, the little red-head could hear everything they said.

"How do you propose to get these funds? The market demands new products, what we can sell here isn't suitable anymore."

"We have new products being brought in. I meet my contact tomorrow. His market demands the exotic, ours does the same. There is plenty of profit for all concerned."

The first man shifted in consternation. "What's the product we're shipping out?" A bag came out and opened, and he nodded. "Good enough. Who is the contact?"

The second, taller man leaned in, and Karuka couldn't hear what was said, though she leaned over so far that if her grip on the lip of the roof slipped even for a second, she was sure she would fall. She didn't know what she would do with anything she learned, but she was still more than slightly curious.

"HIM?! Do you know what you may well be dealing with in him?!"

His concerns were allayed when the other man produced something from his robes. "We can show him that we have in our power the ability to secure rare, even unique, items. Honorable business with us will be most profitable for him, do you not agree?"

She'd made the mistake of leaning too far, and now she fell, landing atop the first man gracelessly, without her staff or her bag. She looked up into the eyes of the second man, obviously the middle man, saw his shock and alarm as clearly as she felt fear. Lashing out with the quickness of a serpent, she kicked him in the knee and then stumbled to her feet, speeding down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. She'd worry about her things if she lived to see the dawn.

She could hear them behind her, hear their swords drawn, and she knew that if they had anything to say about it, she would not be seeing the sun's rays peer over the horizon to once again bake the land. She dashed through the streets, dropping her cloak to move faster. Long Irish legs carried her over unfamiliar ground, and slowly she gained distance.

That was, she gained distance until her uneducated dash almost had her collide at full speed with a wall as she came upon a dead end. Panting and sweating despite the night's chill, Karuka turned and dashed back, only to find herself out of time. Right across the sparsely populated street were the two men, brandishing black swords at her and continuing to charge.

She caught sight of something at the edge of her vision, a long broom, and she grabbed for it. It felt thin and weak in her hands, but there were only two of them, and she'd faced worse odds before. The first one, the shorter came in with a high slash, which she ducked under before hitting him in the face with the broad side of her makeshift weapon and jabbing him in the throat with the stick side.

The other one came in fast, though, chopping through her broom as though it were a piece of straw and hitting her across the face with a dizzying backhand that send her tumbling. She tasted blood as her lip split open, but that was of little concern compared to the disorientation which sent her stumbling down the street, and she fell, landing hard.

Karuka shook her head hard to clear it, hearing a slight shuffle in the sand as the one she thought she'd knocked out climbed back to his feet. She heard him growl something vicious to his still-armed partner, which the red-head was certain was a death order for her. He advanced on her as she scrabbled for purchase on the slippery sands, sword lowered to impale her as soon as he reached her.

I ay gave i' mi bes', she thought while glaring venomously at her murderer. She could see his eyes, shining and black, but nothing else. His face was covered, as was his partner's. Her lips curled back into a snarl. There was nothing and no one that was going to save her. She could beg for mercy and hope that she'd merely be raped, beaten, and left to die on the street, or she could keep her fire and die swiftly. She chose the latter, and merely flinched as the blade rose to finish the job.

>>>I gave it my best.<<<

[Storm Veritas]

Night had followed without excitement. It was a wild disappointment; to have nothing to vent such venom. His anger slowly dissipated, but the stewing anger and frustration would not so easily subside. The girl was nowhere to be found, and his search seemed fruitless. She was nowhere to be found; nowhere to in sight. None had seen her. How was this even possible?

And then, chance came running to him. It all happened so magically. The faint yelping sound that echoed to him seemed to low to be heard. He moved to it, concerned for a reason he could not quantify. A thud, a rustle, they made him jog. A grunt and a smashing sound brought him to full sprint. He was moving through town at full gallop, making for the small alley. He was right. Inside stood two men over one, and he knew right away he had found her. It seemed too late as he saw the knife.

“NO!”

Such simplistic a cry was all he could muster. He extended his hand at the knife that was raised without thinking. The energy released itself, outside of his control for the first time in as long as he could recall. A blast of phenomenal power erupted from his hand, a twisting burst of white hot light that twisted in a thin ray towards the blade and the man. It hit both, turning the man into a covered wreck of smoldering flesh. The smell hit Storm, and all of his venom and frustration came back. The second man turned to Storm as Veritas advanced, his eyes on fire and awake with concentrated hate.

You picked on the wrong girl, mother*cker…

If the electric prowess was his distinct magical gift, then the work of daggers was his art. He loved to use them when he was working, as they could be so fast, so precise. In this case, he wanted to be brutal.

The man came at him with a knife in his hand, a large kitchen knife that could be quite dangerous. Storm was unfazed by this act, having seen things far worse than this pathetic ambusher. When the goon hammered down with the knife, Storm stepped forward, closing the distance to a point where the knife sailed harmlessly over his shoulder. The blade of Veritas was far more well set.

He felt the twisted kriss eat flesh, driving it deep through the left arm of his attacker. The man’s eyes widened, realization and fear that he hadn’t even seen the blade coming. Storm’s left hand then drove a second knife through the open armpit of the assailant, the satisfying clink of a knife being dropped sounding on stone behind him. The knives were pulled, and a two fisted push sent the man stumbling.

“I hope it was good for you. You’ll go slowly. You’ll be a lesson.”

In his periphery he spotted Karuka, slowly regaining composure. She would stop him if he tried to really play. If he were to disembowel the man, or force him to taste his own flesh, then Storm would be ceased. He would not give this man the satisfaction of such quick death, but knew his strikes were limited.

Knee, stomach, bicep, foot. Four strikes came in a rapid succession, a horrible flurry of savage thrusts and swipes that were both calculated and inhuman. The knee strike split bones apart, the stomach simply introducing the death blow. The strikes to the arm and foot simply assured that the man would not get away, not get help in time. The stomach lining was compromised; Storm knew the man had less than an hour.

He turned from the man, looking down at the girl he had extended himself for. She had taken this from him. He couldn’t be the monster with her. He couldn’t be himself. He may have loved her, but she didn’t return such affection. He wouldn’t lend both dignity and his bloodlust.

“I hope you’re alright, Karuka.”

He thought about helping her up, holding her, apologizing and reconciling.

He thought long about it as he turned his back on her and walked away.

[Karuka]

Instead of the bone-crushing blow she'd been expecting, a crackling serpent of deadly light flew over her and rammed into the man standing over her, killing him instantly and making his body twitch like a dying cockroach. Instead of being impaled or having her ribs and internal organs smashed to bits, Karuka was hit in the stomach by a warm red object about the size of an orange.

She held onto it, watching mutely as Storm hacked and slashed into the second man. He'd snatched her from the chilling grip of death, coming with as much warning as a prowling panther, and his attacks were just as vicious. No...they were more so. There was frustration and fury in each blow that landed, and a determination to kill as brutally and painfully as possible.

She hadn't felt fear until now. She'd faced her death with defiance, clinging to the Celtic tradition of dying with grace and courage. Wasn't that right? Now that she was safe, though, she was shaking and clinging to the glass-hard ball that filled her hands. She could taste her fear, strong and bitter in her mouth.

It wasn't death she feared. It wasn't even the monster who tore into the men that were going to kill her, the monster who would have her life in his hands the moment he was done with them. But never before had she given herself up so completely and hopelessly without having kissed death directly. She was having her mortality shoved most unpleasantly into her face, and found herself terrified.

Suddenly a stillness came over the street, punctuated only by the gurgles of the dying man. She could hear the sands crunch beneath Storm's boots as he turned to her, could feel his eyes on her for the long moment before he spoke, but couldn't quite raise her own to meet his. His tone carried an odd mix of concern and chill, as though he'd been terrified before he'd arrived, and was now furious with either her or himself.

And then he left. No looking back, no coming closer, no threats, no entreaties, just well wishes as frozen as the icy stars in the sky. That didn't sit any better with her than being defenseless in the face of the attacks, in running from combat.

What manner o' man be this? she wondered, eyes fixed on the curve of the corner where he'd vanished. The question burned in her consciousness, trapping her there with her little speckled sphere. What sort of man would go out into the dark of a dangerous city searching for a girl that had rebuffed him, save her life, and then just walk away?

Finally, she tucked the sphere into her rune pouch and stood up, forcing herself to stop shaking. The distance to the intersection seemed to float by before she got her bearings back, and she hurried now, trying to catch up to him. He was different than she'd thought, and she had too few friends in this lifetime to be too proud to try and reconcile with someone who had gone so far out of his way to save her.

She saw him after a minute, the proud figure with his back turned squarely to her, still in all but his stride. For a moment, she considered backing off and leaving him to his life, and she would stay to hers. He could tear her apart if he wanted to, but why would he? At the worst, he would rebuff her like she'd done to him only an hour or two before.

"Storm," she called, breaking into a run for a few paces and grabbing his arm, catching his eyes. She saw conflict in them, several kinds of anger, a bitterness, a hint of sadness, but also a coldness that made her pause for a moment before speaking.

"I've been all o'er this world, from th' north o' Salvar t' th' jungles o' Dheathain. I've met many men, travelers an' non, evil an' good, rich an' poor. I've walked wi' many. An' I've seen many that'd be willin' t' keep company wi' a woman jus' t' get int' her bed. I learned that lesson th' hard way, an' vowed ne'er again. I thought tha' 'twas all y' wanted, an' i' seemed t' be."

He was still there, still listening, but his face was so hard to read in the shadows cast by the moon and stars, and his eyes still shone with the same bright fierceness.

"But I've ne'er met a man, not aon that'd call 'imself frien', or a dog that wanted t' merely sniff aroun', that has come lookin' when I've left 'im an' come helped me. Yer th' firs'. How was I t' know y' were differen' when y' seemed ay so much th' same?"

She released his arm, taking a pace back and looking around to get her directions. "We've said g'bye a' leas' tri times t'day. I'd rather not t' make i' four, but I'll understan' if y'd rather not t' see me again. I've got t' go an' find m things...th' problem wi' eaves-droppin' is that sometimes nothin' drops with y'."

There was a square ahead; more of a circle, but it was obvious that it was a hub of activity during market days, and Karuka nodded toward it. "I'll give y' time t' decide, if y' like. I'll be there in half an hour. If yer not there, I won't blame y', but I'd ay be glad t' see y' there."

She took a step back, increasing the space between them, trying to get any hint of a reaction from him before heading on her way.

If you want, you can have him go with her, or be there waiting when the half hour's up, or even decide that no, he thinks he doesn't want to see her again because she's way too much trouble.

[Storm Veritas]

He was surprised to be confronted with the pretty redhead again, although he supposed some part of it envisioned it when he first turned heel. Women were suckers for romance, but worse yet suckers for the hard to get. If Storm could save her life and leave her just as easily, then he knew he would have changed significantly in her eyes.

Her adorable accent implied that he was precisely correct. She had been quite smitten with him, and his plan had gone along swimmingly.

But why bother with the charade?

The question wasn't an unfair one. Storm was, after all, a high hero or villain to many, and finding female companionship wasn't a struggle. Generally even the most oafish come-ons were successful now, where his very presence was enough to start the whispering of women looking for something different, something dangerous. There was something about Karuka that had legitimitely weakened him, something which caused a dangerous irrationality within his behavior.

Don't make her wait too long. Even if you're undecided, undecisive action is never a good thing. Deal with her, then decide.

"Thank you, my dear. I am happy you are alright. I am not sure what the day will entail, but I should like to see you again. Allow me to walk, first."

After her initial long repose, this solicited only a simple affirmitive response, both sweet and endearing. He smiled, kissed the knuckle over her middle finger, and bid her adieu to walk amongst the masses. He would disappear, do business, and think a bit.

Now, he could no longer disappear. The crowds gave him a wide berth as he walked, parting like the seas before the holy man in stories before him. There were whispers now, and word had spread quickly in the alley. An odd combination of hatred and love filled their faces when the townspeople looked at him. There was an air of romance and intrigue about him, and he knew the opinions that would form. Women would love him; this was always the case. Men would go one of two ways: the cowardly would fear him, and the bold would doubt him. These courageous fools would think the stories to be lies, and refuse to respect him for the deity that he was. Generally, they picked a lot of fights with him.

It was for this reason that he kept his daggers sharp.

Despite the parting of the market to herald his coming, he was able to walk long enough to let everyone see him. He wove through the market once, and then again a second time. A third, and a fourth, and he knew all their faces. This was not important; the pedestrian plebe class of Fallien was of no concern to him. What was important was that they knew his face, and that he no longer looked out of place as he walked amongst them. Let them know you, and they let you blend, he had learned.

Now where the hell is he?

He no sooner mouthed the thought than he caught the sight of his contact. The contact he sought was slippery; moreso even than him. He was a small man, short and squat and round faced, with a look of perpetual perspiration about him. He stood no taller than Storm's shoulder, and from his height Veritas could see the gleam of a fast spreading bald spot atop his head. Dark circles lined the neck and armpits of his shirt, and broad sausage fingers wove together amongst themselves over a round pot belly.

"You! You think you could make a bigger scene next time? Make more attention? Perhaps I should get you a sign!?" The little man was irate.

"That's enough." A cold gaze shot down from Storm to the small merchant, and the peddlar was silenced. Storm knew the man could be as upset as he wanted; there was nothing to do about it now. The two walked slowly for a few moments, weaving back and forth through stalls and around carts. They, too, allowed themselves to be seen together.

"Now... shall we?" The voice of Veritas was smooth again, not smitten and boyish as it was when he spoke to Karuka. The tall, elegant murderer was in control again, and he produced a small, dense bag, from under his coat. It was large enough to fill his hand, but not so big that it couldn't be hidden. He had hidden it this far. It's contents were densely packed Salvar mushrooms, and in the blackest of markets they fetched less than 5 gold for the full bag. Here, they were worth 500.

He swapped hands with the little man, and felt the rustle in his bag. A knowing glare between the two; both were competent killers, and a bad deal was not worth discussing.

Without a word they parted ways, and Storm had pocketed the parcel long before he made it to the market square. While that bag would only catch 500 gold here, it would garner several thousand to those mushroom-drunk fools in Radasanth. The exchange was so simple, but customs were so dangerous. Only a man universally feared could serve as the effective mule.

He was smiling ear to ear when he saw her again. A part of it was the wealth he had just gained through this transaction. The higher bliss, however, came from knowing that life with Karuka was about to get a whole lot more simple.

Life with Karuka. He liked that ring.

[Karuka]

I bunnied you a little, let me know if it's not okay.

Nothin's e'er simple, Karuka mused to herself as she jogged through the dark streets of Irrakam to retrieve her belongings. To her surprise, her cloak had been laying where she'd dropped it, and what people there were gave her a wide berth. Despite the fact that the name Storm Veritas hadn't been anything more to her than a tavern legend a few days ago, it meant something here, and she'd been seen with him. It proved beyond doubt an old truth - better to have powerful friends than power itself. People attacked the powerful in order to test their mettle. People with powerful friends were left alone more often than not, for fear of bloody retribution.

Well placed fear, as it happened in this instance. Very well placed fear.

When she neared the building she'd fallen from, she launched herself onto a roof, grabbing the eaves with her hands and pulling herself up by her arms. From there it was easy to get her staff and bag, and a few minutes of walking brought her back to the square, where she found a place to sit and leaned wearily against her staff.

I'm ay so tired...

She closed her eyes, resting. It had been a long day, made longer by the impromptu chase, and the soft breeze that stirred her curls seemed to be a reassuring pat on the back.

"Hey. Look at the sand."

Karuka's head snapped up, the voice had seemed to come from right beside her, and yet there was no one within ten feet of her. Strange...

Leaning against her staff once more, the red-head let her eyes focus on the ground. Grains of sand slowly swept in front of her feet, tumbling gently end over end. It looked like it was just being stirred by the breeze...except what wind there was was blowing the other way.

Karuka's head lifted and she scanned the other people in the square. None of their eyes turned downward; sand was a part of life, and no more to be paid attention to than blades of grass in Corone. However...when something small and common started behaving in strange ways, something big was about to happen.

Instinctively, she reached into her rune bag, fishing around the warm little sphere to pull out a handful of runes. She peered at their familiar faces, starting to decipher their meaning before she had a sudden flash of insight, and it filled her with anxiety.

"Hey, sugar." The smooth voice that lilted through a smile relieved her, but only a little bit. What she'd seen had such a sense of urgency to it that she hadn't known if Storm had the time to meet up with her before the trouble started.

She looked up at him, her face not mirroring his smile. "Y' need t' get out o' th' country, an' right fas'. There's some'un out t' kill y', an' from what I saw, y'll be ay lucky if he doesn'."

The smile changed. Before, it had been a happy smile; he'd been looking forward to the rest of his stay in Irrakam, however long or short he'd planned it to be. Now it was a proud sneer, as though he would relish battling anyone who dared challenge him. It was a predator's grin, and predators rarely had the good sense to keep themselves out of trouble.

Karuka sighed. Men...

"Look a' th' sand." It still crawled slowly, inexorably, against the wind. "Here, 'tis limitless. Y'd ay be safer away o' here." She doubted he'd heed her words. He had power and knew it. Too often were the powerful prone to folly, which is why she knew she had to stay. If he was going to tempt fate, he'd more likely come out alive if he had someone nearby who could read it.

[Storm Veritas]

When she looked at him, the genuine fear on her face was sweet, if a bit condescending, and he took it at true face value. She was good to him, and wished him well, and wanted for his safety. It was a logical thing; she had seen him fight and probably didn't underestimate what she could instinctively know, and only sought for this man that cared about her to not be hurt.

Sorry, sugar, but what you don't know about me may be better for you.

He thought about feigning fear; perhaps if he looked scared of that which a normal man would be scared of, he would seem more human, less monstrous, less terrible. He could look like a vulnerable, genuine article mortal, but such a strategy would be anything with genuine.

Instead of the stagger, he chose the sneer. Instead of panic, it was pride. It was arrogant, it was brazen, and it bordered on foolish. It was Storm Veritas.

"I'm afraid I'm done running, darlin'. People round here have been bullying business from the East for a long time. That's what brings allure; rumor that the cash is so good.

"I came here to swap vices; none of my own but the powders and salts that control the weak. It would make a great deal of money, although I'm sure these folks figure I'm never leaving with their money anyway.

"They're all big, and tough, and scary. They won't be alone. Many people just like me came and thought they'd get the better of the deal, and didn't leave town. Their own bravados bit off more than they could chew, and these pricks cut their throats before they left town.

"They run a sound business; lucrative trades for those suckers born each minute."

A deep breath. He had been talking too much, on a soap box, yammering away about things she didn't care about. He sounded like every other two-bit fool that tried to tough-guy his way through a known ambush; this business was built on the back of others underestimating whatever badasses Fallien had to offer.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and looked into her eyes. Those big emeralds were so brilliant, so bright. She didn't want any of this, regardless of the not-so-hidden talents.

"I expect they wait at the exit to Fallien anyway. They'll wait there, ready to slit my throat and take my money back."

His knowing grin revealed unbelievable confidence.

"Bad news for them, is that they aren't the only trick-show in town."

[Karuka]

Why men always had ten times more bravado than common sense was something Karuka doubted she'd ever understand, so even harder for her was why powerful men lost any common sense at all in the face of what they knew they could do. Especially when trying to be impressive. She stood up, using the motion to let exhaustion roll from her like water. She had one last warning she could give before she'd just have to let the man walk into trouble. She expected him to ignore the warning...but the strong always tended to trust their strength rather than heed a seer's cautions.

Not that he e'en knows what I am.

Her eyes stayed firmly fixed in the direction the sand was going, as though if she gazed long enough, she'd be able to physically see the face she could name "Malevolence."

"'Tis likely," she told Storm, words weighted with more gravity than the chipper lass of the morning had seemed capable of, "that th' only reason he's after y' is because you're another 'trick show.'" Her blue eyes turned to him, reflecting the crisp sickle of the Fallien moon.

For a moment, she thought he was going to take her seriously. But then that self-confident smirk was back, and she knew it was a lost cause.

"People coming after me generally don't know my tricks, sugar." A harsh chuckle escaped his throat, and Karuka, giving it up, just sighed, rubbing her forehead and looking back to the horizon. She'd done what she could.

"Sleep while 'tis still night. Trouble will ay last t' dawn."

A weight and warmth that was growing more and more familiar settled on her shoulder, and Storm's eyes caught her own. For the moment, they were clear of anything, neither pride nor lust tinged his gaze, leaving nothing but honesty behind.

"I'm certain I'll sleep plenty when I'm dead, but no need to rush it. If we're gonna get hit, trouble prefers the night." His hand squeezed her shoulder gently, reassuring her that for the moment, she was safe with him, and that until the next sunset, nothing was going to happen. After a long moment, lust shone in his eyes once more, and a grin tinged his lips. "And you're in luck! So do I!"

With an exasperated sigh, Karuka rolled her eyes. But she didn't walk off again.

~*~*~

So, it was true that the lightning fiend had come into Fallien. That was good. While Dhiren was not so foolish as to dare attacking the dark elf that was the Jya's pet, Veritas was fair game. He loved the feeling of taking the powerful and crushing their lives in his hands. He was addicted to the rush of immortality, for what else was a man that no one could kill?

As the sun-beaten warlock bent to sit, the sands piled on top of each other, creating a luxurious throne for the man they hailed as master. He chuckled. When Veritas left the city...or, perhaps, was forced to leave the city, he'd be in for the fight of his life. His last fight. For how could a mere mortal expect to face a man whose power was as limitless as the desert sands?

With a chuckle, Dhiren leaned back on his seat, wondering if there wasn't a way to just lure his victim out to him to be devoured. When the dawn comes...I should go and see for myself this man. He knows me not, and I will know his weak points before he even knows I am coming.

~*~*~

Dawn broke out in a brilliant crimson over Irrakam, and since it was hot out in the city and seemed in tune with the local tastes, Karuka put on something other than her vlince traveling suit for the first time in almost a year. The blue silk skirt and top set off her eyes, bared her arms, and exposed the small gold belly button ring that hadn't seen the light of day in ages.

Why she went out exposed like that in a city she knew to be dangerous, she couldn't quite explain...but somehow, for her, cities felt less dangerous than traveling in the open, despite the fact that the most dangerous predators of all flocked to them like bees to a hive.

Or maybe she just felt safe because she had one of those most dangerous predators on her side.

Maybe.

Whatever her reasoning, if any, the redhead was ready to go back out into the town that had been so rough just hours before, characteristic cheeky attitude putting bounce back into her step.

[[bunny approved via PM]]