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[In the Den - Das Loot Part One]
The wood-handled knife rose into the air, cutting through the thick, visceral smoke that clung in the air of the basement room. Â It turned, and turned as it slowed and then fell back into the hand that had tossed it. Â It was hot. Â Very hot. Â The Spring sun blasted and baked the clay walls around the basement room - but the cool of the earth below left the air tolerable.
"So that's what happened, boss?" came the voice, little more than a croak from the diminutive Hyur hunched suspiciously in his chair. Â
"Yeah tha's right." Came the evasive reply of the energetic, red-shocked Highlaner. Â "They was 'em... you know... scaley types."
"And a Duskie." Added a female voice that was more accusatory than helpful.
"Yeah, yeah. Â 'Er too. Â Thal's balls, you know I won't forget 'er! Â I told ye wha' she did already, yeah?" Â It was difficult to discern features in the smokey den, but no doubt Bohanon's brow furrowed at the reminder.
"Tha wee girl one, I sure found out who she is!" He beamed with a self-satisfied grin.
"Yeah boss? Nicely done!" Added the deep voice of the last member.
"Yeah, yeah. Â I know right? Â Better 'an that, I know jest who she's workin' for. Â Some dealer in artifac's, name's 'Savage Kelley'"
"And does he have the thing?" Asked the woman.
"I told you, I dunnae that!" Came the quick reply of the under-boss nearly leaping out of his seat. Â "They vanished, ye see? Â One minute they was there, next they was gone!"
"You sure you weren't drinkin?" She asked, only half playfully.
"'Ey now! Â I says sure! Â So I was sure! Â Right?" The other men around the table nodded. Â The woman rolled her eyes.
"Now, 'bout that Duskie woman. Â Whatever her reasons, she really wanted tha thing." Â He pointed the knife at no one in particular, "And I wannae know why she wanted it so bad. Â And who the blasted hells she is..."
Jericho wiped his brow with a damp cloth. Â As if the Thanalan sun weren't bad enough he had to spend the days in front of the open fires, and the ovens of the Quick Sand. Â He stood over the rack of buffalo ribs, offering it the attentiveness of an artisan. Â With careful strokes he brushed them with his home made blend of Thanalan spices that gave them their characteristic kick. Â
The attentive spell was broken by the sudden swinging open of the door that divided the kitchen and the bar out front. Â Those same attentive blue eyes swept up and around to fall upon the familiar but welcome sight of Momodi's star barmaid.
She burst her way in like usual, a broad grin upon carmined-red lips, and the bountiful energy that made her seem like she might just bounce away any moment. Â He offered a subtle smile of his own as he watched her swing to the counter where she usually prepared mixed drinks.
"Another Champion Chachan, Aya?" He asked.
She was focused on the preparation of the drink. Â She swung out a pair of metal mixers, scooping a selection of fruit into each.
"They're so popular!" she laughed in reply.
Next she poured in a measure of different juice varieties, mostly orange and a hint of tangy tropical fruits.
"I think its because you make them."
She answered with a look that denied any chance of that possibility. "What would make you say that?"
She added a large dose of bubbly, sweetened water from a metal keg to each. Â A pull on the tap handle released it like a stream of fizz.
"Oh... I don't know. Â You know you're just about the most popular thing here."
She laughed, "Oh, I wouldn't say that! Â You know the food is what people really need out there."
She lifted one of the mixers, and then the other, shaking them vigorously while Jerico watched from his station.
"Oh... I wouldn't say that..." he answered quietly.
"Huh?" She shook the two a little longer, before carefully opening the mixers to keep the bubbling drinks from overflowing.
"Oh... nothing..." said the Highlander cook, suddenly turning his attention back to the ribs under preparation.
"By the way, you wouldn't happen to know any Duskwight ladies would you?" Â He offered the careful, detailed description that his brother had passed onto him the day before. Â Sometimes Bohanon seemed to possess a perfect memory for features and appearances--at least of ladies.
Aya finished pouring the drinks and dropped in the little parosols that garnished them. Â "Don't tell me that brother of yours is up to something? Â She's dangerous, Jericho, you'd better tell him to stay away..."
Bohanon nearly boiled over in protest. Â Every inch of his sinewy figure quivered with a rebellious energy. Â "Your little princess said what?!"
"Hey... hey..." protested the elder brother. Â "She knows what she's talking about, she's just trying to help." Â He paused, as if that were it, before protesting, "She's not my princess!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Â right..." came Bohanon's reply, not being quite interested enough to make an argument out of it. "Did'je at least get a name outta Blondie?"
"Desert Rose..."
"Ai, perfect. Â A bloomin' desert Duskie."
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