He bolted, and as he did so one hand flew up to his ear.Â
"Twenty fulms ahead... and off to your left... deep blue coat, white trim... shiny new shoes... aye, that's him... go ahead, I'm going to--"
What's the play?
Goobue high. Dirk smiled as he leaned back, one foot hooking around the leg of the table as his weight took the two front legs of his chair off the wooden floor.Â
"Find a corner. Stick the old geezer when he turns it, slit his throat, and be done with it."
The uniformed man to the left snorted as he dropped a pair of slimes on the tabletop. He steepled his hands and glared at the boy.Â
"There's the captain's mission to consider. The higher the body count, the harder it becomes to get the job done. Bring in the authorities, make the search an official one."
Dirk barked a laugh as the dealer started shuffling the deck from sheer anxiety. "Dream on. Do that, and you'll lose the target, sure as the sun rises and sets across the sea."
The gentleman to the sergeant's left sighed and came down with a suit of Flames. He looked across the table to the dealer from underneath his green bandana and shook his head.
"Ditch Faller. Hightail it back to the Falcon. Fly back to the Goblet, pick up Kanaria, and leave. Head for the Shroud. You've no history in Gridania; you can start a new life there with her. You can be safe."
The dealer stared in disbelief, mouth agape. His jaw snapped shut, and He frowned, but before He could retort, the next man in line - dressed in a light red shirt with long sleeves and a black vest - folded his arms and spoke up.Â
"We can't off Faller, the sergeant's right about that much - and I won't stand for it, anyroad - but we can't just leave the captain behind, either. Ain't right, when we owe the man as much as we do. "
The dealer spread His hands, deck held in His left as eyed His helmsman expectantly. "So? What's your suggestion?"
There came a smile as the man flicked his cards out over the table. "I fold."
Osric sat back, stunned. "What, nothin'?"
Ossy shrugged. "I'm here to make sure we don't go off course or run aground. I don't care which way we sail."
Oz snorted. "Then why not let Him have fun with the whores while we're here?"
"Principle."
"Ah."
Expectant eyes turned towards the last individual seated at the table. Rings looked up, gave his customary shite-eating grin, and came down with Coeurls over Snurbles.Â
"Gutter games."
"--make some noise, draw attention away from you, be a nifty distraction."
Osric ran for Cripple's Walk.
The Walk wasn't the pride and joy of Limsa Lominsa, but neither was it the shame. The wooden docks that shot off from the main thoroughfare were home to the meager and destitute, were in disrepair, and only the poorest of seafaring vessels chose to moor there... but at the same time, the commodities that flowed across the boardwalk were a lifeline for Hawkers'. Cheap goods, cheap supplies, that was what let the cripples thrive.
The former problemsolver poured on the speed. Faller, old highlander that he was, may have had the constitution and fortitude to run him down... but he wouldn't prove nimble enough for this dance, of that Osric was certain.Â
...skirt this stand, slam through these gadabouts, vault this next one, dodge left, slide, feet back underneath me, next stand drop the pack drop the pack, good, good, TO THE RIGHT, shite that was close, the mop grab the okay got the mop, knock out those supports HAHA take THAT y'old kook...Â
He danced around another storefront and stumbled, skid to a halt. Three of 'em. Three there, waiting for him. Sea Wolf with a two-by-eight cord of lumber, Seeker with a gladius, Plainsfolk with a musket.Â
A gods-damned musket. As he watched, the Lalafell finished priming the shot, leveled the weapon, and--
--Osric didn't wait. He shed his hempen cowl, threw off the robe, kicked off to his left, brought his hands together over his head, and dove, to the sharp crack of gunfire, into the sea.
"Twenty fulms ahead... and off to your left... deep blue coat, white trim... shiny new shoes... aye, that's him... go ahead, I'm going to--"
What's the play?
Goobue high. Dirk smiled as he leaned back, one foot hooking around the leg of the table as his weight took the two front legs of his chair off the wooden floor.Â
"Find a corner. Stick the old geezer when he turns it, slit his throat, and be done with it."
The uniformed man to the left snorted as he dropped a pair of slimes on the tabletop. He steepled his hands and glared at the boy.Â
"There's the captain's mission to consider. The higher the body count, the harder it becomes to get the job done. Bring in the authorities, make the search an official one."
Dirk barked a laugh as the dealer started shuffling the deck from sheer anxiety. "Dream on. Do that, and you'll lose the target, sure as the sun rises and sets across the sea."
The gentleman to the sergeant's left sighed and came down with a suit of Flames. He looked across the table to the dealer from underneath his green bandana and shook his head.
"Ditch Faller. Hightail it back to the Falcon. Fly back to the Goblet, pick up Kanaria, and leave. Head for the Shroud. You've no history in Gridania; you can start a new life there with her. You can be safe."
The dealer stared in disbelief, mouth agape. His jaw snapped shut, and He frowned, but before He could retort, the next man in line - dressed in a light red shirt with long sleeves and a black vest - folded his arms and spoke up.Â
"We can't off Faller, the sergeant's right about that much - and I won't stand for it, anyroad - but we can't just leave the captain behind, either. Ain't right, when we owe the man as much as we do. "
The dealer spread His hands, deck held in His left as eyed His helmsman expectantly. "So? What's your suggestion?"
There came a smile as the man flicked his cards out over the table. "I fold."
Osric sat back, stunned. "What, nothin'?"
Ossy shrugged. "I'm here to make sure we don't go off course or run aground. I don't care which way we sail."
Oz snorted. "Then why not let Him have fun with the whores while we're here?"
"Principle."
"Ah."
Expectant eyes turned towards the last individual seated at the table. Rings looked up, gave his customary shite-eating grin, and came down with Coeurls over Snurbles.Â
"Gutter games."
"--make some noise, draw attention away from you, be a nifty distraction."
Osric ran for Cripple's Walk.
The Walk wasn't the pride and joy of Limsa Lominsa, but neither was it the shame. The wooden docks that shot off from the main thoroughfare were home to the meager and destitute, were in disrepair, and only the poorest of seafaring vessels chose to moor there... but at the same time, the commodities that flowed across the boardwalk were a lifeline for Hawkers'. Cheap goods, cheap supplies, that was what let the cripples thrive.
The former problemsolver poured on the speed. Faller, old highlander that he was, may have had the constitution and fortitude to run him down... but he wouldn't prove nimble enough for this dance, of that Osric was certain.Â
...skirt this stand, slam through these gadabouts, vault this next one, dodge left, slide, feet back underneath me, next stand drop the pack drop the pack, good, good, TO THE RIGHT, shite that was close, the mop grab the okay got the mop, knock out those supports HAHA take THAT y'old kook...Â
He danced around another storefront and stumbled, skid to a halt. Three of 'em. Three there, waiting for him. Sea Wolf with a two-by-eight cord of lumber, Seeker with a gladius, Plainsfolk with a musket.Â
A gods-damned musket. As he watched, the Lalafell finished priming the shot, leveled the weapon, and--
--Osric didn't wait. He shed his hempen cowl, threw off the robe, kicked off to his left, brought his hands together over his head, and dove, to the sharp crack of gunfire, into the sea.
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
