Logs:Do Dragons Eat Ships?
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| RL Date: 11 July, 2014 |
| Who: R'hin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Tillek Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin and Telavi stake out a Tillekian bar and overhear some disturbing rumors. There's also a distinct lack of beer. |
| Where: Tillekian Bar |
| When: Day 22, Month 3, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
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| A lot of Savannah's assignments lately have been focusing in and around the docks and taverns that are home to sailors throughout High Reaches' sweep area. Today, the pair are in a bar not too far from Tillek's docks, having earlier landed and walked their way in. Certainly the walk has done good with adding to their guise as a pair of laborers; R'hin's face, arms and hands are dusty, streaked here and there whenever he touches his face, tapping fingers impatiently on the table they're seated at while he waits for their beer to arrive. The place is lively enough for evening, as folk start arriving after they've finished their evening meals. Telavi sighs. And sighs again. "Would you stop tapping already," she more complains than asks, with that nasal quality that's as much a part of her disguise as the dust. Likely the timbre carries, but it's not so loud that one can't overhear their neighbors. "I'm thirsty. Why are they so slow today?" "I just walked halfway across Pern," just about, "And I want a flaming drink," R'hin's grumbling in response to Telavi's complaint. In fact, a number of the locals are gathered near the bar, which might explain why service is so slow tonight -- though the reason for that isn't obvious from their table. "Oh, flame your ass," Telavi scoffs. "I've got a hole in my sole and..." that doesn't stop her from looking towards the bar in question, longingly. "What say I go look, see what's taking so long." Does R'hin care? He's taken her 'hole in the sock' and escalated to a, "My left knee aches from that time I gallantly saved you from a maurading... runner," it does sound like he had to pause before suggesting something more tame, "And," it's like he's trying to drive her away. So of course Telavi rolls her eyes. "That's not the way to get me to bring you anything good," she notes as she sashays over to the bar, or at least it would be a sashay if it weren't for how twisting slim hips helps her wedge between those locals without, hopefully, their minding overmuch. "I don't care if it's good, as long as it's wet." The amusement is audible in R'hin's voice as he makes a shoo'ing gesture at the greenrider. Whatever's got the local's attention it's certainly making them reluctant to let Telavi push through, but she does manage to get closer at least to hear the words that cause the rippling gasp amongst the crowd: "Dragons are attacking ships!" There's a couple of people at the front, chatting with the bartender, and this group seems to be the source of the conversation. He gets a glance back, one that would love to be a retort, but she's on a mission. And... then Telavi's own gasp joins the others', just a drop of seawater within the wave. "Whose ship? Their ship?" she asks the most approachable-looking of her neighbors, quietly and fretfully and remembering that nasality just in time. "That is not okay!" "I heard from a cousin who's down the coast that he works with someone who had his fishing boat out on the water and picked up this man who swears his ship was attacked by dragons." The crowd seems mixed of reaction, some muttering doubtfully, others non-committal -- at least, until someone else says with a sudden surprise, "Maybe that's why we've had so many missing ships lately?" That definitely earns a darker muttering amongst the crowd, pushing restlessly back and forth. Round eyes. Round 'oh' of a mouth. Telavi doesn't move back right away, staying where she is, but she does keep her stance strong and her arms slightly wide with an eye toward a way out if she needs one. "They don't eat ships, do they?" comes out breathily. "I ain't takin' any shipboard jobs for a while. Might go to the mines instead. Safer, no dragons can get there," snorts one of the more bulky crowd-members, to the murmured agreement of others near him. "Eat ships?" A taller man squints at Telavi, frowning. "I guess if they're hungry?" He doesn't seem entirely certain. "I hope not." Telavi doesn't bat her eyes or anything, though they stay round and concerned... and then relieved, as though she's rethought the taller man's words. "You're right, it doesn't really make sense. Who'd eat wood? Imagine the splinters!" She sticks around for more of the speculation, adding an ingenuous comment in here and there, the sort of thing intended to add 'inadvertent' humor to the situation rather than feed that would-be mutter of a mob. Humor or not, there's no doubt that this particular rumor is going to spread -- even while Telavi's standing there a couple of people disperse, talking quietly together, headed out the door. The greenrider will soon spot R'hin across the crowd, his face set, a subtle movement of his head given before he heads outside, too. It's not that Telavi doesn't look back towards the bar; she does. But she plods out anyway, as though there's a lot on her mind, and if she relates it all to R'hin once it's safe... it's not as though just about everyone else isn't gossiping too. It's very important gossip, indeed, but there's also other important things afoot: "I never got my drink," R'hin sighs, as he keeps pace with Telavi. "We're going to need to a wing meeting first thing tomorrow." But for now, they have a long walk back to their dragons. |
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