To Have Lost

[DhezrelSaephica]

D'hezrel's eyes immediately lit up as he saw his shadowy companion come into view, muffled happy noises emitted from his gag. He wiggled around conspicuously, as if a Miqo'te in a tribe of Sahagin wasn't already obvious enough. The guard nearby promptly butted him with a spear, but was quickly distracted with a certain Au Ra's terrifying presence within the camp. Nearly dropping his spear, the fishman took a step back, the disturbance was perfect for the Bard. He managed to wriggle one hand free of the bindings.

---
 'And THAT,' he heard Asime's booming voice, D'hez froze and immediately laid back as if his hands were still bound. Fish eyes, and the intense pink eyes of the Au Ra who had witnessed his antics many a time were upon him. The innocent looking Bard stared wide-eyed at the tribe, 'Belongs to me.' Asime continued, he relaxed, their attention had turned back to the poor fishman Asimenios had now twisted like a pretzel, the Miqo'te was glad the gag would stifle his laughter as he used his now unbound hands to free his feet. Asime negotiated, D'hezrel scoured the camp, he scoured until--there you are. He had found the bickering little Sahagins who had fought over his bow, looks like the taller one had won and now wore the black bow and quiver proudly on his back, the other sulking nearby. Not for long you little thief, D'hez narrowed his eyes. He started whipping his tail hard against the altar, trying to make a specific beat but really only making hairy thumping sounds against the stone. Still, it was something he knew Asime's acute sense of hearing would catch. 

----
Once he had the Au Ra's attention, the tip of his tail whipped to the direction of the Sahagin who had his bow, as well as parting his wrists in a way signifying he had already freed himself. I'm certainly not leaving without my bow, the Miqo'te thought, Haummont would haunt me for ages if I lost that precious thing...I think I'm already cursed for letting fish hands touch it... his ears drooped. One of the Sahagin Elders cautiously stepped forward, cocking his fishy head. "We will....consssssssider your offer..." The elder turned back to consult with the others, why they didn't immediately take the offer, no one could say. They didn't seem very smart, looking back on it.

---

D'hezrel turned his head, marveling at the creature's stupidity. Asime had give a very generous offer. Trade the Bard for the skewered pretzel fish you dolt! The Miqo'te was getting very impatient. He looked up at Asime, his hands motioning, "Can you believe this?" while rolling his eyes. 

[Lightsnowe]

Disorganized, undisciplined. A hierarchy determined by age at its heights, and strength down in its dregs. Asimenios' knowledge of the fishmans and what desperate acts of vandalism sufficed for their culture was scant and unreliable, but it didn't take an Inquisitor to observe the small interactions. Elders pontificated and stroked their tentacle beards, making a grand show of aged consideration. The younger ones watched this display with open greed, hungry for the long-off and probably unlikely day they too would make big fish choices for the school.

 

I do not know you, fish-folk. But I do know an un-knit unit when I see one. Lets pull some threads, see what unravels.

 

Then, whump whump whumpywhump.

 

The bard's emancipated tail tapped out a drum solo that made the Au'ra's sensitive horns buzz. 

 

He eyed D'hezrel pointedly. The imperious coil of Asime's scaly brow might have been sufficient to convey his relief at the catte's safety. The squirming bundle of bard was cleverly untying itself, a comical pointer-tail snaking up to indicate D'hez's prized bow some paces away. The very tip of his tail protruded in a couple of urgent jabs, with all the conspiratorial gesticulating of a bar-mate singling out a pretty beau from across the room.

 

Asimenios shot him a look, you know the sort, then waved vaguely at the fish wearing the bow like an undeserved badge of the highest honors.

 

'Wouldn't touch that if I were you. Cursed, you see. My friend here used to be a Lallafell, three feet of pure bastard, until that horrible bow released its magic and shifted his shape into what you have before you.' He gestured to D'hez, and every fish head in the camp turned to gawp at the Miqo'te, who may very well have waved at them then and there and they might not have noticed the absence of his bindings. 'I for one would very much like to see one of your numbers polymorphed into a cat-boy, but I don't imagine they are much fond of swimming.'

 

When they had gotten to burbling bickeringly amidst themselves, D'hez had fired Asime a 'can you believe this shit' to which the stoic warrior squinted and shrugged out a 'lets be done with this already i am hungry and it is making me cross'.

 

The captive pretzel-fish started to return to its senses, and jurbled a bit before Asime cuffed him back into a stupor. Something about his posture, a fair hint in the ease of his stance and the steel of his manner, plainly signaled his intentions to semi-captive D'hezrel. If negotiations failed, or if this watery burbling continued much longer, he was simply going to weaponize the limp body in his grasp and begin beating every water-dweller in sight to fish paste.

[DhezrelSaephica]

The bow-thief gasped in horror at Asime's tale, ripping the bow and quiver from himself as if spiders had hatched from the strings. He threw it violently back at the Miqo'te, much to D'hezrel's annoyance. The arrows spilled from his quiver to the ground like a cruel game of pick up sticks, the Bard's tail flicked intensely with pent up irritation. These fish truly don't know how close they are to being chum--The thought echoed in his head. The group sat in awkward silence for a spell, until finally the Elder who had initially spoken turned to face them. "We have conssssidered your offer." He said frankly, casting a glance at his contorted tribesman gripped in the hands of the Au Ra. D'hez shot a look at Asime, the Sahagin's following words should be chosen very carefully, lest his tribe become an afternoon meal for the vultures. "And we accept. Please release our young one and we shall do the same with yours." 

---

The Bard sighed through his gag, I'm not that young. The guard near him went to cut his binds but D'hez was already standing and brushing off the dust and debris from his ordeal to the guard's awe. He released his gag and spit near the altar, the fish guard wrinkled his face in anger, "Do not disssrespect the holy altar!" D'hezrel shot him a mean glare back, walking past him to pick up several of his spilled arrows on the ground. Pointing them at the angered fish, he shouted, "Do not disssrespect my cursed bow then!" He cast a glance over the tribe while retrieving his thrown bow, pointing the tip of it at the earlier thief and narrowing his eyes, "I LIKE being a cat, I'll have you know!" The Bard smirked at Asime, he was ready to be on their way before the situation escalated further. He whistled for Layla who he had spied in the far bushes, and she came full circle around the camp, waiting at the far exit like the good little bird she occasionally was. The Sahagin reluctantly let their prize go, the Elders wisely deciding these two were a little too much for them to handle--despite what a marvelous sacrifice the Bard would have made. The fishes' disappointed gurgles and shouts of contempt could be heard as the two made their exit from the disorderly beast camp, joining their feathered lady for a hasty departure. 

---

They made it a safe distance from the Sahagin's camp, D'hez scolding himself nearly the entire way. "I was caught off guard, stupid, stupid, stupid! Never should have let my guard down. I sit there daydreaming for one instant, and bam! Literally on an altar waiting to be sacrificed to a fish god, what a day." His ears drooped, he was greatly disappointed in himself. The Miqo'te stroked the feathers on Layla's neck, "I owe you one, for fetching Asime." then he turned to his companion, "And I owe you for saving my arse." Wait--what was it about arse again? The thought was ringing in his head. I'm missing something. Oh gods. MY ARSE! It's going to be missing because I don't have my harp! HAUMMONT'S SPIRIT IS GOING TO KILL ME!

 

The Miqo'te suddenly became frantic, looking around wildly, seeing that his prized instrument was not in place on the chocobo's saddle. 

Edited March 24, 2020 by FloraScarlett