Port Lorrel- Prison Break

[Jack Rothwell]

"Let's talk about names like that in private."

Myra tipped Jack a wink and turned to order another drink.

"First light." Desmond gave her own words back to her.

"That's what we agreed." Myra replied, tipping the fresh glass to her lips. Desmond cleared his throat.

"Right, I'm heading out."

"There's a brothel down the road." She said airily, her eyes returning to the man she was flirting with.

"Not in the same league as the Rose." He grumbled, but nevertheless the man mountain strode to the front door and left. Myra watched him go.

"He's a blockhead." She supplied. "But a loyal one. Now, where was it we were going?"

OOC Feel like inventing a new location? /OOC

[Alberich]

"Now, where was it we were going?"

There was only one answer for that. "Somewhere we're not supposed to, of course!" Taking the last swallow of his wine and saluting Wedge the bartender, he got a hand around Myra's waist and steered her out the door.

With more time to plan, more money, or in a different kind of city, he'd get her into a luxury room at the upscale inn or some other establishment well above her usual fare. But this being Farrel, and a rough port town in Farrel, that'd be more trouble than it was worth. Since "security" consisted of those stupid corrupt bandit herds like the Eisenfaust, who went right from robbing people to "protecting" them and back again 'til they got slaughtered by another stupid corrupt bandit herd in an endless pointless cycle of corrupt bandit moo-moo herdery, the locals tended to protect their property the old-fashioned way: broken glass, rabid dogs, weapons, paranoia, and, best of all, keeping their dwellings and establishments like pigsties that no one would ever want to break into.

In Tsuirakushiti, if you could get past a few basic magic wards, there were all kinds of clean buildings you could sneak a girl into without too much trouble. In Veracia, with a little care, you could slip her into a temple, desecrate the sanctuary or the novice quarters, and leave their stupid bleating priests to clean up after you. Here? With her? Stealing a boat would get them some privacy, but that would be kind of visible. Something close and quick was better. And what could be closer than...

"How's your climbing?" he asked conversationally. The ship was wrecked enough that they'd opened a bar in the hold instead of trying to float it again. But it hadn't been crashed here all that long and should still be structurally sound up top. His new clothes included a cloak -- handy for the rain, handier for an improptu blanket -- so really they just needed to climb up to the poopdeck and they'd be all set. (The crow's nest would be more daring...well, maybe for an encore.) She looked used to roughing it anyway. Anyplace she couldn't climb, he could hold down his hand or his belt (or, if it wasn't long enough, his pants - they seemed pretty sturdy) and haul her up.

Minutes later, if his luck held, they'd be on his cloak on the poopdeck, and "interrogation" could take place. No doubt it'd seen worse in its years of service. Yes, they'd have to be quiet, but that added a little spice.

[Jack Rothwell]

"You're such a fucking cheapskate." Myra chided him as they climbed onto the deck of the Clark. As they cleared the the final step, the bandit grabbed the man by his lapel and drew him close.

"I'm just using you for information, you know." She whispered, the faint snick of metal sliding free of a scabbard cutting across her gentle tones. "So if you're not forthcoming... expect me to get rough."

She cupped a hand on the back of the thief's neck and pulled him forward.

OOC ...aaaand fade to black. After a little intel exchange we can fast-forward to morning unless you've got other plans./OOC

[Alberich]

"You're such a fucking cheapskate." Myra chided him as they climbed onto the deck of the Clark.

"That's true," cracked Jack. "Every word!"

"...expect me to get rough." She cupped a hand on the back of the thief's neck and pulled him forward.

[OOC: Fade to black. (bonka bonka bwa bwa) Back from the black.]

They were together on the cloak under the sky, having thoroughly enjoyed the experience. While Jack was playing this game without magic, he'd made one exception - a part of his fingery foreplay had actually been a perfectly executed contraception spell. (He was very good at those and could do them half asleep - and that was one issue on which he was truly adamant: he would not get any children in the Big Barnyard. Whether Myra knew the spell for what it was depended on her own abilities.)

Propped on an elbow, he talking more business. It seemed to him that this situation called for something highly unusual: the truth! Or at least a lot more of it than he usually told. (Although the lies he'd been told filtered through his truthful account of them, so as to lower the truth content of the whole statement down closer to his usual levels.)

"...so, anyway, another thing, while I was there I met a friend of Riekstien's, went by the name of Gabriel Averis. Guards said he used to be a captain. Pretty handy in a fight from what I saw. Had to be - the guards hated him more than the prisoners, and some of them didn't like him too much. Seemed pretty eager to meet Riekstien from what I saw. But Riekstien wasn't in the barracks or the main yard, or anyplace we were. I didn't get to all the isolation cells but he wasn't in the ones I saw. So if he's there, he's in one of the deeper cells.

"Now what I'm thinking is, why wait for morning? If your friends aren't paying the ransom and they want to bust him out with a raid - if you take me to meet 'em I can draw a pretty good map, tell 'em where things are and all."

Or, when I see your assets, talk you into a better way. Or, ah heh heh, steal the assets and take a better way myself. In fact he preferred working with these bandits if he could.

[Jack Rothwell]

"Averis? You mean that guy who killed those people at the Red Rose last week?" Myra replied in a confused tone, casting around for her garment as she spoke. "I didn't know Riekstien knew him, that sounds pretty suspicious to me."

"Now what I'm thinking is, why wait for morning? If your friends aren't paying the ransom and they want to bust him out with a raid - if you take me to meet 'em I can draw a pretty good map, tell 'em where things are and all."

"There's two dozen surly bastards waiting on the outskirts of the Port for news about their boss." She said. "And that's a lot fewer than we had a few days ago... fucking militia and traitorous snakes cost us lives. Too many lives."

Myra pulled her leathers back on with an angry gesture.

"We scout the place tomorrow and then see what can be done. If you can give us a map, great, but don't think just because we had a tumble that means I trust you unconditionally."

[Alberich]

"Averis? You mean that guy who killed those people at the Red Rose last week?"

"Did he, now?" asked Jack. "I'm new in town. Did he just get lousy service or was there something else behind it?" He'd noted the Red Rose as a shut-down brothel, but had no knowledge of why.

"There's two dozen surly bastards waiting on the outskirts of the Port for news about their boss." She said. "And that's a lot fewer than we had a few days ago... fucking militia and traitorous snakes cost us lives. Too many lives. We scout the place tomorrow and then see what can be done. If you can give us a map, great, but don't think just because we had a tumble that means I trust you unconditionally."

"I wouldn't expect it before the third tumble, at least." So, she was a respectable girl after all. She didn't give away unconditional trust on the first tumble! In her circle that probably made her almost ladylike. Fundamentally it was bestality, but this one had a ferocious energy that was lacking in your average ewe lamb. It had a sort of charm. (More, in fact, than he was admitting to himself.)

His movements were leisurely as he got his own clothes back on. (For certain broad values of "his own.") "So, these two dozen surly bastards got a spare bed, out there on the outskirts?" By morning they'd know he was a wanted man himself, but there was no way they could get their chief out by offering him. ('least, not with what they thought he was.)

For his own part, he wasn't planning any betrayals just now. See where they were saying, scope it out, eavesdrop a little, get a feel for where they might be hiding the loot, but leave it alone. He hadn't the contacts to broker a betrayal anyway, and it wouldn't be as much fun as what he was doing now. He'd stick around and play a little longer.

[OOC: I'm fine to jump to morning.]

[Jack Rothwell]

As the sun cleared the horizon on a new day in the Port, two figures stood at the end of the street leading to the imposing compound of the Lorrel Gallows. Both looked a little worse for wear given the festivities of the night before. The bigger of the two reached to the flask of his hip and pulled it free. As he opened it there strong scent of apples wafted up the nostrils of his companions.

"Whats that?"

"A home remedy. One of the working girls recommended it." Desmond replied, taking a big slug and grimacing. "Ha. I feel better already."

"Good evening?"

"More or less, you?"

Myra smiled, but said nothing.

"When did the flash bastard say he was getting here?"

"Shortly." She replied. "If he brings the map he promised then getting into that na'ar-cursed place may be easier than we thought." Myra began patting herself down, looking for her tobacco.

[Alberich]

"What's a na'ar?" asked Jack, stepping out of the shadows. "Well, everyone in there curses it, so no matter." He handed over his artistically-executed map, and explained the symbols - the graphic picture of a human male organ of generation was the head warden's office; other scatological pictures were guard posts; the sketch of a fly was the kitchen; the ticks and bedbugs were drawn on the main barracks; and so on.

[Jack Rothwell]

"Na'ar?" Desmond replied incredulously. "It's a place where people like us-" He nodded at Myra. "-go when we die."

"But we won't be going there today." Myra interjected, taking the map with a nod of thanks and drawing it close to her face.

"Blocked... blocked... too exposed... a-ha!" She exclaimed, whirling the thing around for the two men to see. "The south-west area, see anything unusual about it?"

"The utilities?" Desmond replied, his eyes drawing into a frown. "It's the only area in the prison that people voluntarily crap in?"

"Just... circle around the building with me." The banditwoman replied impatiently. "I think I may have spotted a way in."

[Alberich]

Jack followed along, casually. He was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking of, but why take charge? These were her bandit buddies. Let her do it.

This wasn't the route he'd taken to break in before, but if she was going to bring in two dozen revenge-crazed cheapskate livestock who'd rather die on the front lines than give up some of their hay and oats to buy out their stupid herd leader, they'd need more cover.

And what was that to him? He'd tag along and get some amusement out of it, maybe rut some more if it worked out like that (and, really, she was special in her way), pick up a contact or two if he could, and be on his merry way.