Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jan 11, 2015 4:42:22 GMT -8
3076.13.26 | Early morning
This time, it was legitimately an accident. Not that K’tar expected anything different. Guards never seemed to be able to distinguish between the deliberate and the totally unforeseen. It did bother him, after all, didn’t they realize that it would have been the height of stupidity to come here openly on Viarth and wear his own knots?
“Get him!”
It had all started with the tar sprayer. In the course of observing through K’tar’s eyes as a pump was used to fill a water trough being used for runnerbeasts, Viarth had come across the realization that the more force was applied to the pump, the more forcefully the water came out. As to why K’tar had been working that particular pump… well, suffice to say it wasn’t for anything unusual. Viarth had immediately bethought himself the pump and hose combinations used to refill water tanks on the ships at Cliffside. He also bethought himself of the necessity of applying tar to ships and sails, and how it would be so very much easier if instead of slopping it on with brushes one could simply spray it on by using a pump. One would, of course, be able to aim using the hose.
K’tar had explained that no one could possibly want to pump even water that hard by hand, and tar was stickier than water. Viarth had paused, thoughts tumbling and darting around in his head. He had then pointed out two things: 1) tar could be mixed with fish oil to make it less sticky, and 2) with proper tools, one could attach a pump to a rotisserie wheel, so that the work would be done by a canine.
Unfortunately, things hadn’t gone as planned. Not with planning out and assembling the tar sprayer. Not even obtaining the massive tank and filling it with tar and fish oil had been a problem. No, the problem had come from the fact that four big canines in wheels chasing meat-bones can generate a lot of force. Well, that and the fact that K’tar didn’t have anyone else helping him, so it wasn’t like he could get the canines to stop. Even that would have been fine though, if a several of the Councilors hadn’t decided to inspect the docks, accompanied by the bully-boys that they called personal guards. Naturally, they’d shouted to demand what “all this” was about. Equally naturally, K’tar had turned towards them — still holding the hose. They hadn’t liked getting covered in a mixture of tar and fish-oil, for some reason. Both parties had stood frozen for a second, then the Councilors had shouted. K’tar had whistled for Altahyr to follow him and taken off.
“Thread take that man!”
K’tar ran on. Ducking through an alley, he dodged between two cartloads of fish-heads, then jumped a wheelbarrow full of fish guts that was crossing the alley from one even narrower way to another. The man pushing the wheelbarrow screamed as Altahyr followed K’tar over it. Several resounding crashes sounded behind him, swiftly followed by curses and the sounds of wood striking flesh.
K’tar sprang across the street, dashing for the next alley.
“You incompetents! He’s here!” The Councilor was puffing, his fury at the ruin of his horrendously expensive clothes clear on his face.
K’tar couldn’t resist. He grabbed a bucket of fish guts and threw it. One thing pitching firestone sacks around did, the bucket felt like it weighed nothing. Throwing the bucket under the feet of the closest bully-boy, K’tar took off, ignoring the furious shouts as the man tripped and tangled up all the others. A quickly improvised trip-line did for the next three to get close, and K’tar was almost home free. He could see Viarth, already at the closest side of the field and crouched, ready for takeoff.
K’tarMine, look out!
K’tar jumped sideways. Just not quite far enough.
“Got him!”
Before he could do more than start to react, K’tar was wrestled into a hold, one man to each of his arms, and forcibly marched back to the Councilors. They looked rather different, covered in tar. The one even had some fish-scales stuck to him, in addition to all the guts.
“I don’t care if he’s a rider, you’re going to beat him until his skin won’t hold water!”
This time, it was legitimately an accident. Not that K’tar expected anything different. Guards never seemed to be able to distinguish between the deliberate and the totally unforeseen. It did bother him, after all, didn’t they realize that it would have been the height of stupidity to come here openly on Viarth and wear his own knots?
“Get him!”
It had all started with the tar sprayer. In the course of observing through K’tar’s eyes as a pump was used to fill a water trough being used for runnerbeasts, Viarth had come across the realization that the more force was applied to the pump, the more forcefully the water came out. As to why K’tar had been working that particular pump… well, suffice to say it wasn’t for anything unusual. Viarth had immediately bethought himself the pump and hose combinations used to refill water tanks on the ships at Cliffside. He also bethought himself of the necessity of applying tar to ships and sails, and how it would be so very much easier if instead of slopping it on with brushes one could simply spray it on by using a pump. One would, of course, be able to aim using the hose.
K’tar had explained that no one could possibly want to pump even water that hard by hand, and tar was stickier than water. Viarth had paused, thoughts tumbling and darting around in his head. He had then pointed out two things: 1) tar could be mixed with fish oil to make it less sticky, and 2) with proper tools, one could attach a pump to a rotisserie wheel, so that the work would be done by a canine.
Unfortunately, things hadn’t gone as planned. Not with planning out and assembling the tar sprayer. Not even obtaining the massive tank and filling it with tar and fish oil had been a problem. No, the problem had come from the fact that four big canines in wheels chasing meat-bones can generate a lot of force. Well, that and the fact that K’tar didn’t have anyone else helping him, so it wasn’t like he could get the canines to stop. Even that would have been fine though, if a several of the Councilors hadn’t decided to inspect the docks, accompanied by the bully-boys that they called personal guards. Naturally, they’d shouted to demand what “all this” was about. Equally naturally, K’tar had turned towards them — still holding the hose. They hadn’t liked getting covered in a mixture of tar and fish-oil, for some reason. Both parties had stood frozen for a second, then the Councilors had shouted. K’tar had whistled for Altahyr to follow him and taken off.
“Thread take that man!”
K’tar ran on. Ducking through an alley, he dodged between two cartloads of fish-heads, then jumped a wheelbarrow full of fish guts that was crossing the alley from one even narrower way to another. The man pushing the wheelbarrow screamed as Altahyr followed K’tar over it. Several resounding crashes sounded behind him, swiftly followed by curses and the sounds of wood striking flesh.
K’tar sprang across the street, dashing for the next alley.
“You incompetents! He’s here!” The Councilor was puffing, his fury at the ruin of his horrendously expensive clothes clear on his face.
K’tar couldn’t resist. He grabbed a bucket of fish guts and threw it. One thing pitching firestone sacks around did, the bucket felt like it weighed nothing. Throwing the bucket under the feet of the closest bully-boy, K’tar took off, ignoring the furious shouts as the man tripped and tangled up all the others. A quickly improvised trip-line did for the next three to get close, and K’tar was almost home free. He could see Viarth, already at the closest side of the field and crouched, ready for takeoff.
K’tarMine, look out!
K’tar jumped sideways. Just not quite far enough.
“Got him!”
Before he could do more than start to react, K’tar was wrestled into a hold, one man to each of his arms, and forcibly marched back to the Councilors. They looked rather different, covered in tar. The one even had some fish-scales stuck to him, in addition to all the guts.
“I don’t care if he’s a rider, you’re going to beat him until his skin won’t hold water!”