There had been a lot of food the day of the Hatching Feast celebrating his Impression. Kh'sol looked out at the stalls that sold more food of more kinds on a daily basis, as far as he knew. He stared at the various strange fish, the names of a few probably written about them but all in all he was still left without names for them himself.
"Boy, you gunna buy shomething?" a cranky vendor yelped when he noticed likely customers standing behind him.
Kh'sol ducked and back pedaled away from the stall. There was more to see. Still, the food was starting to make him hungry and he didn't have any means of acquiring any of the mouth wateringly good smelling things here in a way that wouldn't upset the Weyr.
So through the crowd he weaved to begin the walk back to the Weyr. It would take a while, but if he picked up his pace on the way back perhaps he'd be back before his stomach complained too much.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 5, 2014 22:42:58 GMT -8
K’tar had needed to de-stress. At least, that’s what he called it. Unfortunately, at his fourth stall of the day, he’d been spotted. Fortunately, he was still able to get away with several of the best versions of fish and three rolls.
K’tar took off, dodging through the crowd. People snatched at him, but for all that he’d lost his childish small size, he was still really quick. At least, until a glance back resulted in him running into somebody about his own height, and at least an inch or two broader.
“Watch out!” K’tar shouted, ducking to grab up his dropped rolls, before grabbing the other guy’s sleeve and giving it a tug, taking off towards the Weyr. After all, this poor guy didn’t need to get in trouble for his latest stunt.
Kh'sol stumbled forward into a rather displeased woman. He was still trying to gain his balance and sense of personal space (how did people live in such crowded places?) when the young man who had slammed into him was seizing his sleeve. Well, it looked like this fellow was getting out of the crowd, and quickly. Sounded fair enough, and his eyes held a flair for the adventurous. It had been a little too quiet lately.
In stride with the other lad, Kh'sol asked, "What's all this?" At least they were coming out of the crowd now. His legs protested and reveled in the stretching bounds of running. He hoped this ended well, but more so he sunk into the rush of the unknown.
"Hold folk the same everywhere, huh?" was Kh'sol's languid comment, his feet dissimilarity pounding the stone roads through the Hold at K'tar's side. He looked back to still see the guards on their tail. "How we gone to lose them?" His eyes flicked over the landscape, looking for something to shake their pursuers. He hoped this lad knew the area better than he did. This was his first time in town, and well, if they were caught it might be his last. Thankfully, Ornoth kept his presence quiet. Kh'sol felt him there, but he was still not fully accustomed to the other voice in his head at such crucial moments and could easily have tripped over his own feet talking to the Brown.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 12:18:02 GMT -8
“You can say that again,” K’tar commented. Personally, he was starting to think their only hope was going to be to run all the way back to the Weyr, but… flicking a glance over his shoulder, K’tar saw the guards were definitely starting to gain on them. On the other hand, they were getting near…
“Hurry, follow me!” K’tar hissed, spinning on the ball of his right foot and racing for the path down to the docks. Provided they could get there before the guards…
“You swim?” he got out, quietly as possible. Fortunately, they were running back through the crowd, and people were cussing and screaming and bumping into each other, which, in addition to the calls of the traders, prevented anyone but his erstwhile companion from hearing him.
They were catching up. Not good. Suddenly his fleeing companion spun onto a new path and started down the slope towards the water. He thanked the open sky that they were back in the crowd. They were never losing the guards out in the open. Accusatory buzzards...
"Uh, enough to keep m'head up," Kh'sol exhaled in reply, his voice thin from running. He was lagging in the crowd. He hadn't planned for this today. "In and back towards the shore then?" he asked, seeing a gap between two smaller boats ahead.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 12:48:45 GMT -8
“Yup, with a little bit of an aside.” K’tar replied. The crowd was thicker here, the guards forced to slow. Seeing a decent-sized container of fish guts, he grabbed it and pushed it over into the main walkway. Ignoring the shouting angry swearing behind him — except to grin at a mental image of the guards going down in a heap — he sprinted forwards, ducking between two small boats and, with a quick glance around, sliding into the water.
Kh'sol's nose protested as the barrel of unmentionable vile spilled onto the docks. They'd be in more trouble for that if- best escape then. He went on further than the other lad. Wouldn't do to have the same people see both of them disappear. He slide into the water, which was warmer than he expected but still was unpleasantly wet. He slipped around to the other side of the boat, and hoped that he had picked the right "aside" since that part hadn't been specified. He slipped under a different dock, and started making his way back towards the shore. He wasn't a superb swimmer, but as he said, he knew enough to keep his head up and nose clear. A child's swimming education was all he had to his name.
The disapproving voice caught him off guard. Water came up on his face and Kh'sol sputtered. Not now. More water. He clung to one of the posts on the docks. Regaining a sense of control, Kh'sol kept moving. People were going to start to stare, some probably already were. He saw one woman staring right at him, he was sure. But then he noticed she was instead staring at a little floating pouch, a worried frown on her face. Kh'sol grabbed it and swum the gap between docks.
"I believe you dropped this," he said, handing the money pouch back to her.
The woman, whom he now noticed had silvering in her hair, smiled at him with appreciation as she took the marks back. "Thank you, son."
"Not a problem," Kh'sol replied, hoisting himself out of the water as if his entire mission in the water had been to retrieve her lost item. "Glad to get it back for you," he said a little louder, explaining to those around him. "I've enough of the water, today, so keep a good hold of it, eh?"
"Of course," she laughed and marched off on her way. Kh'sol moved quietly in the crowd back off the docks. He seemed to be in the clear, at least for the moment.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 13:23:50 GMT -8
K’tar dove alongside the ship, keeping one hand touching it to make sure he didn’t drift out of its shadow. Slowly, he worked his way around the ship until he was on the other side of it. Surfacing again, he felt in his pockets until he found a couple strips of leather. The rolls were valueless, but since the new goal of the day was to avoid capture… besides, the cooked meat should still be fine, once rinsed off in non-salty water. Quickly, and hoping the other boy’s wrist was near in size to his own, he twisted the leather into a bracelet and tied it off.
The swim back to shore was relatively uneventful, except he had to keep working his way sideways so that he’d come up a decent distance away. Climbing out of the water, he heard the sounds of the guards stamping along the dock. Fortunately, they were still a little ways away.
He ducked into the crowd, then realized his mistake. The guards clearly knew that the thief had dived into the water, he saw them, now coming from both sides, stopping to talk to anyone who seemed even damp. Then his eyes landed on the other young man. He was already outside the guard’s search area, but K’tar still had to get himself out.
“Dude, I found it!” he called out, waving the bracelet overhead and hoping that the guy would be able to act well enough to pull it off. “You were right, the bird did drop it into the water!”
Kh'sol spun and saw K'tar shouting. Strange plan, but not too unlike his attempt to hide in plain sight.
"Ho! There you are. Got it, did you? Rotten birds stealing from us. Shards, I can't believe you got it back! Sharpeye, they ought to call you," he exclaimed, taking the scrap of leather and looking it over as if it were something of great value. "Uncle'll be glad you didn't lose his lucky scrap, mate. Let's get on back before he tans our hides."
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 13:55:08 GMT -8
K’tar laughed. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” he said. The guards looked over, assessed the situation with a series of grins (which they directed mostly at the simple leather bracelet), and allowed K’tar to walk back up the street.
“So, you up for a little bit of fried fish?” K’tar asked, once they were out of earshot of the guards, walking along a side street that would take them through the outskirts of the market. He hoped the other guy hadn’t been in the market to get anything specific, because some of the guards — fortunately none of them had been searching the outer edge of the dock — really could come in for the name “sharpeye” themselves, and might recognize the guy as an associate of the thief. He pulled the fish out of his jacket as he asked, presenting it like a prize award.
"Sure," Kh'sol agreed with emphasis. He had been getting hungry. What was produced was not exactly much to look at, he took the offered food all the same. "Thanks." He took a bite and was left chewing for quite a while. Chewy fish. eh.
"What's your name?" he asked, looking for knots and seeing none. Who had he really fallen in with? Now that he had a minute to breathe, maybe this hadn't all been such a good idea. But it was happened, now.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 20:20:33 GMT -8
K’tar swallowed his own second bite of fish with a quick upward and forward jerk of his head. He hadn’t been quite done chewing, but, well, he probably did at least owe the other guy his name. In fact… His own glance for rank knots was somewhat more informative. In fact, he almost bust up laughing.
“Just don’t tell anyone back at the Weyr. I don’t need any more trouble.”
Offering his hand, he continued: “K’tar Damoyen, of Purple Viarth.” He smiled, a truly infectious grin, as his grey eyes met the other guy’s brown ones, inviting his new friend in on the joke.
"Oh." Kh'sol slipped when K'tar gave his name. He hesitated for a second before offering his hand. He recognized the name. Something from weyrling lessons about what not to do...
"Kh'sol Yorntas, Brown Ornoth, and true troubled out for sevendays," he replied, catching his conversational balance along with K'tar's hand for a shake. "Your reputation proceeds you. Mine, it's naught to tell."