He'd barely had time to shrug his way into the overcoat and dip a hand into one of his pockets for the eyepatch that went over his head and fit snugly over his face before he heard their footsteps pounding up the stairs behind him. He turned a corner through a nearby doorframe and nearly barreled into someone who was... much, much larger than he was, wearing much the same cloth and colors he was. His sole exposed eye rose up and up until he was staring at the most ravaged-looking Sea Wolf he'd seen in years. An officer, by her insignia, the woman's most telling features were the scars that spoke to the flesh that had been gouged out of her face over the cycles. She took but a single step back, rocked by the impact, then both her hands descended and clamped onto his shoulders.
Bluff.
"Cap'n," he all but squeaked in as high and girly a pitch as he could manage, "didja see 'er? Lil Keeper scrag must o' just been through heres, 'n' I reckon the bitch is causin' all sorts o'--"
A feminine voice shrieked from further down the length of the Braveheart, and the Roegadyn released his right shoulder to pivot in that direction. She snarled, then scoffed.
"Adventurers. Go, go!"
Her grip vanished and she patted him on the back just as the men from earlier came running up behind. He didn't need any further prompting; he took the cue for what it was and dashed down the hall, and the others followed him at a distance as the officer barked orders. The midlander grinned, satisfied, then ducked out of sight to the side as he passed through another doorframe, gaze intent on the stairs he'd spotted. He didn't bother with the steps, opting instead to vault from one set to another until, at last, he found himself on the orlop deck.
Time t'double back up 'n' out t'watch the moorin' lines.
He'd somehow inadvertently gotten the Maelstrom involved in the chase. All he had to do now was wait outside for them to flush Kink out, and he knew the perfect perch for it. He tore his way back out of the overcoat, ditched the eyepatch, and wrapped a long scrap of red felt around the lower half of his face as a makeshift scarf. That done, he spun in place and considered his options.
He'd need new clothes.
Bluff.
"Cap'n," he all but squeaked in as high and girly a pitch as he could manage, "didja see 'er? Lil Keeper scrag must o' just been through heres, 'n' I reckon the bitch is causin' all sorts o'--"
A feminine voice shrieked from further down the length of the Braveheart, and the Roegadyn released his right shoulder to pivot in that direction. She snarled, then scoffed.
"Adventurers. Go, go!"
Her grip vanished and she patted him on the back just as the men from earlier came running up behind. He didn't need any further prompting; he took the cue for what it was and dashed down the hall, and the others followed him at a distance as the officer barked orders. The midlander grinned, satisfied, then ducked out of sight to the side as he passed through another doorframe, gaze intent on the stairs he'd spotted. He didn't bother with the steps, opting instead to vault from one set to another until, at last, he found himself on the orlop deck.
Time t'double back up 'n' out t'watch the moorin' lines.
He'd somehow inadvertently gotten the Maelstrom involved in the chase. All he had to do now was wait outside for them to flush Kink out, and he knew the perfect perch for it. He tore his way back out of the overcoat, ditched the eyepatch, and wrapped a long scrap of red felt around the lower half of his face as a makeshift scarf. That done, he spun in place and considered his options.
He'd need new clothes.
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
