He'd cursed when the physicians had told him there was nothing they could do. Cursed her from her ancestors right down to any future descendants. Without some kind of magical healing injuries like these...they were permanent. Maybe with time he'd get his walking speed back up, but it would never be quite the same and running was out of the question.

That arrogant whore, he thought. She defeats me and leaves me like this.

But he would adapt. He would find a way to finish his mission, and with luck teach that ninjutsu-zukai the error of her ways. Dishonorable sneaking liars and spies, all of them. He hated resorting to their methods, but orders were orders, and at least he could say that he was still doing his duty.

There was another answer. He could find them, certainly. He had information about the physician and a rough idea of her itinerary. He also knew to some extent what her advantages were. He hadn't anticipated that she'd have allies they didn't know about, but now he knew. He could find her all right, but he'd need help if he was going to catch her when the time came. He had the skills he needed to keep track of her, but... someone else would have to do a lot of the legwork.

He leaned back on his cane and stared up into the sky. This was the price he paid for his dedication, but he paid it gladly. All he needed was to find a few assistants strong enough to get past any more guardians Minshara might have up her sleeve.... but dull enough to obey his directions without demanding more information than he could rightly give.

But this was Tarsis. If he couldn't find that here, he was doing something wrong.


Myrnal did not.

Like.

The friends Minshara was making.

Some cynical part of the ninja's mind was certain that Minshara knew she was being followed by her new acquaintance and was deliberately attempting to drive her insane.

Myrnal had been feeling a little better since her encounter with Minshara's would-be assassin, and had found to her relief that her injury from that night wasn't quite so bad as it had seemed. It had just hurt like hell to have the injury reopened, but it wasn't bleeding too badly, and taking a little time out of her day to get it sewn shut had made a big difference. Myrnal had gotten used to keeping an eye on her own injuries, even if she couldn't do a whole lot for anyone else's. If this wound were going to be a problem, at least it wouldn't be a big problem or one that would impair her significantly.

S'always the worry, Myrnal thought. If you aren't travelling with a proper healer, each hit slows you down. Every single one makes you more likely to get hurt again, and before long you're dead.

She was lucky, and she knew it.

She checked back in with Minshara and noted with annoyance that Minshara was headed into a part of town even Myrnal didn't like, though it was obviously for different reasons. Myrnal didn't like being there herself because every goblin she met just kind of... watched her. She was always afraid to ask why, but suspected it might have something to do with her mother. In that case, Anira could either have made allies or enemies and if Myrnal pursued it and it turned out to be the latter? She wouldn't find out until it was too late.

Best to forget all about it. Her mother had been dead a long time and none of that nonsense mattered unless Myrnal allowed it to matter. Myrnal stuck to the shadows and tried to avoid anyone she knew.

And then Minshara started talking to people.

Great. Just...just keen. Myrnal watched from the alley across the street, her eyes following every movement between the hulking forms of the men blocking the alleyway. Same mistake as the last men Myrnal had fought, but she was glad of it. Myrnal figured she could at least get the two men at the end, giving Minshara a chance at the pimp in the back. There was no way for Myrnal to go after the man her friend was talking to without revealing herself more thoroughly...but if Minshara got in over her head, she'd force Myrnal's hand.

Myrnal watched with an appraising eye as Minshara quickly took the upper hand over her current enemy. For one, Myrnal couldn't help but approve of Minshara's choice of weapon. A lovely little hidden dagger, though she wasn't close enough to tell more about its make or origin. Maybe she'd ask later, if things ever calmed down a bit.

Look at her go, Myrnal thought with a grin. That was automatic. She didn't even think that through; that was muscle memory. Not a fighter my ass.

As pleased as she was to see that her charge was not totally dependent on her for protection, she couldn't justify relaxing until the situation was over. So Minshara was making a business deal. So what. Business deals made by women alone in dark alleys surrounded by enemies seldom went as expected, and Myrnal wanted to make sure that she could stop anything... unfortunate... from happening.

Minshara made her deal, and let her new business partners off a lot easier than her ninja friend would have in her place. It felt like a mistake to Myrnal, but her advice wasn't important here. Following Minshara was important, and that meant that for now Min's priorities were Myrnal's as well.

Just the same... Myrnal wanted them to know they'd gotten off easy. She strung a note to the end of one of her throwing daggers, since as much as Myrnal loved her knives, these were comparatively expendable. She strung a folded up piece of parchment around the handle and held it for a moment in her palm.

Sorry, friend. I hate to give you to the likes of these, but if they pull anything I'll be sure to get you back, you can be sure of it.

A short moment of regret was all Myrnal could allow herself. That's what throwing knives were designed for after all; from one point of view they were intended to be thrown away. Myrnal hated that view, but it was right. She caught up with them just down the street as they were walking away from the alley where they'd cornered Minshara.
Their leader had relaxed a bit, and was berating his subordinate for his lapse of solemnity. He'd been entertained! He'd-- But the leader halted in his ranting when something flew through the air before him in a flash of polished metal. The knife embedded itself in the doorframe of the nearest building and stuck there, quivering slightly from the sudden impact.

Hesitantly, the pimp reached out and pulled the parchment off. He read the note with shaking fingers.

You deal fairly with her now...
Or next time I'll do more than watch.
...see you tomorrow, kids.

He looked around hastily, but all he saw from the corner of his eye was a bit of shifting shadow, probably caused by nothing more than the blinding glare of the sunlight pouring across the rooftops.

Pleased that Minshara and her parents seemed safe enough in the Jade Dragon, Myrnal allowed herself a bit of a break. She stopped by her essentially-deserted rented room and packed up the remainder of her belongings in preparation for what was shaping up to be a long trip.

Her only other stop was at a street vendor's to grab a sandwich. She hadn't eaten since that morning and, unlike Minshara, did not have the luxury of eating in a public place. She sat with an arm crooked around the rungs of a roof-access ladder. It was the only other way into her alley aside from the mouth across from the Jade Dragon. She didn't want anyone sneaking up on her. Minshara left the tavern, looking a little lost in thought. Myrnal wondered briefly what was on her mind but as soon as the physician was past the end of the block, Myrnal heard movement on a rooftop above her. Someone else was there.

The four men lying on their stomachs on the rooftop watched the doorway to the tavern. Her parents were staying there, so they knew that they'd find Minshara here. If they couldn't go into a place like that and remove her, they'd just have to wait until she emerged.

"What do we do if she's armed?" whispered one. "I don't want a fight to the death with a woman who was only visiting her parents when we found her."

"Karl, don't be ridiculous. That's why there are four of us. We can overpower her without killing her."

"I know that's the plan, but things easily get out of control. I don't like the delicate jobs."

"We can handle it. Capture the healer, hold her until the boss gets there. Kill the ninja. What's delicate about that?"

Karl shrugged. "I don't know, Sven. I just don't like it." He tensed. There she was.

Sven waved a hand and the other two dropped down the side of the roof opposite the alley where Myrnal sat. Sven and Karl started toward Myrnal's side, and when Myrnal felt a the vibrations running down the ladder, she looked up to find someone coming down.

Oh, f$%#ing hell. She didn't have much time to hold her cover, and she had no way of alerting Minshara. Damn it, she wasn't trained in the art of attracting people's attention. From the darkness of the alley, Myrnal felt fairly confident that Minshara would see the descending hired thugs before she saw Myrnal... provided the ninja could get her ward's attention.

The ladder quaked as the feet descended, unaware that the alley below was occupied. She pulled her hood and mask over her head and spared a sad glance for her half-eaten sandwich. This was such a Yadali plan, and Myrnal found it profoundly disturbing that such a deranged tactic had even occurred to her, but there was no other way to get Minshara to be alert and aware of her surroundings.

Myrnal slipped to the mouth of the alley, and with her back against the wall she thrust one arm out and threw her sandwich. It smacked the wall in front of Minshara. If the gods were with either of them, and Myrnal would have liked to hope at least one was, it would be a clue to the physician to look around and wonder who the hell was throwing food at her. It would buy time at the very least, and maybe give Minshara a running start.

Damn it all. If I don't take care of as many as I can, they'll take me out and go after her with no one to stop them. They'll either follow her and take care of her in a part of town where no one will care, or worse still they use her as a hostage to save their own asses.

Myrnal couldn't stop all four of them. There were two coming down on the opposite side of the building, and two approaching her alleyway, and from the groans of annoyance Myrnal heard, they knew someone was down there. These two, at bare minimum, were Myrnal's job. She'd have to deal with the other two as best she could while taking care of her own enemies, while keeping an eye on Minshara, while keeping her identity a secret for as long as she possibly could.

This was going to be fun.

The crowd in the Jade Dragon was bustling, even at this time of the night. The music was loud and the stench of ale prevalent in the stale air. Boisterous chattering kept most of the other denizens at the inn awake, so most decide to forsake much needed sleep for some food and drink instead.

Altair came in through the window like a shadow, unseen by any human eye. He was cloaked in darkness and each footfall made no sound. Placing his sword and sheath on the table, he reached over to the wooden chair and took his long leather coat draped across. Sliding his powerful arms into the sleeves, he allowed the coat to fall around him, the leather touching his ankles.

Reattaching his sword and sheath, Altair tightened his gloves and walked out of his room towards Demetri’s. He pushed the door open and stepped in, unannounced.

“I have obtained passageway via a ship out of Tarsis tonight to the Narim port and that ship is leaving at midnight, tonight,”

Altair had Bardan by the scruff of his neck, pressed up against the side of a wet and dirty wall. The dingy street that lay in Brigand’s Narrows was full of cutthroats and illegal businesses and Bardan was definitely the high horse in this part of Tarsis. Extortion, Prostitution and illegal shipping, he was the go to person in times of dire need.

Yet, Altair wasn’t in any dire need. He merely was out of patience.

“I need to get out of Tarsis and into Narim tonight. And I know you have the means to do it,”

“Narim!?” Bardan coughed out, “Why does everyone want to go to Narim? If you stayed here, I could show you a couple of pleasantries-“

Altair slammed him hard against the wall eliciting a cry of pain from the small man. Bardan felt the cold touch of a blade against his throat and knew that this stranger wasn’t messing around.

But this was his part of the town and he was king here. There was no need to be afraid. Already he saw one of his guards approach Altair from behind, a long dagger in his hand.

“Well I would tell you now Mister but I think you’re about to be in a little bit of trouble in about-“

The approaching bodyguard fell to the ground clutching at his throat where Altair’s stiletto had found its way to. Altair’s arm was outstretched and pointed towards the fell man and his gaze had not once shifted from Bardan. A muffled scream escaped his lips and the fear shone in his eyes like the moon overhead.

“Alright! There’s a ship leaving the docks tonight at midnight. Gods, I swear, today isn’t my good day. But at least, I got beaten up by a man this time. Just be there tonight and you’ll be on your way to Narim,”[/i]

Altair walked over to Demetri’s table and took a sip of the wine in the flask.

“You’re welcomed to accompany me if you wish but if you business here, then we shall part,”

Altair wondered if Demetri would follow him. There was no reason for the other to do so, now that they have reached safe shores, at least for the time being. But the warrior in him knew that there is no such thing as safe shores. In the end, fate always catches up to you and in that time, you decide if you’re going to face it, or bow down in defeat to it.

The best thing a man can do in such a predicament is decide his battleground.

“If you need a guy to get you around from Narim, there’s a local man, goes by the name of Hirst who can arrange for horses. He’s by the Jade Dragon,”

“Good. I want you to arrange that for me, can you do that? I need a horse to Nijon. My …friend, has one of his own,”

“And suddenly everyone’s headed to Nijon as well? Is there a convention going on which I’m not aware of?”

“Can you do it or not? Do I need to ‘encourage’ you?” Altair hissed.

“No…no! I’ll do it. Everything will be settled tonight, you’ll see. Payment can be made through Hirst alright! He’ll even give you a reduced price for the carriage on behalf of your friend’s steed,”

“I never asked for a carriage,”

“But that’s the easiest way to get to Nijon. On your own, you’ll get lost,”

“Very well then,” Altair said, “But if anything goes wrong, rest assured that I can and will always find you,”[/i]

Altair looked to Demetri, thoughts of Nijon running through his head. How he was going to locate Talia Raven there was the one thing he had no idea of. But still, he could worry about that once he was on the continent.

“I have prepared my provisions and its Eventide now. If you’re coming, I would urge you to prepare quickly. But if you’re not, I bid you Godspeed and till we meet again, if fate intends so,”

The choice was left up to Demetri. In truth, it did not matter to Altair if Demetri had decided to come along or not. All his years he has been alone and the sudden company was not unwelcome, but merely strange and awkward. Still, if the half-elf chose to accompany Altair on his trip to Nijon, he might find the time to learn to trust someone else aside from himself for once.

Myrnal grabbed the first man down the ladder and brought her knife up, and he retaliated by slamming her backward against the brick wall. Her head cracked against it and she was dazed for just a moment, but it was long enough for him to pull away from her. With a whispered curse he grabbed her sleeve and yanked her closer, reaching for her hood. As his hand touched the black cloth she was frozen by a brief instant of panic.

Doesn't matter if he sees you. Both of his hands will be busy. Go now.

As the cloth slipped from her hair and off into his hand, she was vaguely conscious of the fact that she still had her mask. Better than nothing. But he was holding her at the length of his arm, both of his hands taken. He would regret keeping her so close. She twisted and slashed across his chest with her katar and he stumbled back.

Myrnal watched them. She got a good look at them for the first time, and it occurred to her that she was in exactly the situation she'd always tried to avoid. She was in a back alley, in a part of the very town she had scrupulously avoided through much of her life.... with a couple of goblin thugs. They were staring at her.

Karl made a protective sign with one hand, as if to ward off the spectral remnant of one long-dead.

"What? You praying now?" Myrnal growled, irritated at the delay they were causing her.

"You are not Anira! She is dead!" Sven whispered in Goblin, holding a hand to the wound in his chest. It was shallow enough that he wouldn't likely drop from it alone.

"Yeah," Myrnal replied as she usually did, in his language. "Yeah, she is. Do I look that much like her?"

"Yes!" he cried.

Myrnal's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "...you shouldn't carry around memories like that. Things are different now. She's dead, her family's dead, and you need to move on."

Karl shook his head. "We were her family. But you... could you possibly be--"

"I'm not. I told you. Her family's dead." She fell silent, letting him have the last word if he wanted it. He didn't believe her and she could see it in his eyes.

"...are you protecting that woman?" Karl finally asked.

"Yes. Leave her alone," she began. "If I--" her sentence was roughly cut short as a crossbow bolt drove into her shoulder, the impact throwing her against the wall behind her.

"I can see that I should not have hired goblins to do a man's job," came a voice from the street. A man in a long black coat much like the one Myrnal often wore approached the ninja and the goblins with a shuffling, awkward gait. "You haven't forgotten me so soon have you, Miss?" Myrnal put her hand to her shoulder where the bolt still held, wedged between her shoulder and her collarbone. He reloaded.

Myrnal watched him, her eyes flicking from him to the two goblins in the alley with her. Where their leader was veritably bouyant with the joy of vengeance, his flunkies were indecisive, looking as though they wanted to run in ten different directions at once. Myrnal couldn't know how their ambivalence would resolve itself, so she couldn't count on them.

Click, the bow was pulled back. Click, he fit the bolt in. Myrnal ducked to the side. Click, he raised it up on one arm. Myrnal dropped to one knee and pulled a knife from her belt. If she didn't get him before he got her, she'd be done. Click, the trigger pulled and the bowman lurched as one of his employees leaned away and dealt him a vicious kick to his good leg. Myrnal once again reached up to touch the crossbow bolt sticking out of her shoulder.

"I am Karl," said one as he glanced up at her with no small degree of concern in his eyes.

The goblin who'd kicked the bowman nodded. "Sven." He looked down at the lame assassin. "He is lame. His weight was on the good leg. A kick from the side," Sven made a chopping motion with one hand. "Knee breaks. He won't follow you now."

Myrnal took a few hesitant steps toward them. "That's not good enough."

Sven blinked. They had assisted her and now she made demands? "Why?"

"Because," she said. "He seems bound and determined to come after me and someone I've decided to protect. If he hurts her, it'll be on my hands."

Karl chuckled and Sven stepped away from the bowman's place on the ground. "Miss," Karl said. "You speak like one of ours, or at least, like someone who could have been."

Sven nodded. "Take care of him, then. You must look out for your own." He and Karl shared a look that Myrnal wasn't entirely comfortable with.

I'm not one of you. I don't even know you. Stop treating me like you owe me something, she responded silently. She took the last few steps toward her fallen enemy. He sat on the ground holding his knee, staring up at her defiantly as he'd done once before. He grinned, confident that she had learned her lesson this time.

"Sorry, friend," she whispered. "You had your chance to walk away and you didn't take it." Your blood is on your hands and the hands of the man who hired you, she finished to herself. She reached out and flung her knife straight through his face. It crashed through bone and his head snapped back against the ground. She hated administering a coup de grace like this. For one of those awful fleeting moments she was a kid again. Something about the way the head flew back, something about the way the body lay there... always reminded her of the first time.

Karl spoke in a whisper. "It is as you say. It doesn't matter if you did not know Anira. But whoever you are... we will help you in place of the ones we could not save." Myrnal stared at him. Before she could reply he continued. "May the gods forgive us for failing her once. We will not fail her again." Karl lowered his head and abruptly broke from Myrnal's gaze as though he'd embarassed himself.

"I will take his horse. You and Karl can take mine. Karl, can you lead her to the apartment?" Karl nodded. "Miss, before you leave... in case we do not see you again. You have not told us your name."

Myrnal took a deep breath and opened her mouth to tell him to screw off and leave his questions to himself. She rethought it when she saw the genuine concern in his face. "Myrnal Shalienza."

Sven nodded slowly. "If that is the name you wish, it is the name we will use. Gods be with you. If they are with me also, I will see you soon." With that, Sven broke away and ran around the corner of the building, presumably to go steal the bowman's transportation.

Karl beckoned Myrnal closer. "Your friend, she's a healer. Could she help you?"

She looked down at her shoulder. "Maybe. If we can get to her and get her safe long enough for her to look at me."

He nodded. "Come here, then. We will handle this our way." Myrnal blinked at him, wondering what he could possibly mean by that. He laid a hand gently on top of her wounded shoulder. "I'm going to break the bolt. It will stay in so you don't bleed as much."

Myrnal swallowed. "This'll hurt like a bitch. Guess I'll get to practice my Goblin cursing, eh?"

Karl smiled. "It will be good to hear it," he said. He grabbed the end of the bolt with the fingers of his other hand holding the base. With a wrench of his arm, the wood snapped and pain exploded through the ninja's arm and all the way down to her fingers. When her mind cleared enough to think, every foul word she'd learned from her mother and from goblins like Karl came pouring from her mouth. Karl blinked, taken aback. "You curse like her, too. Very creative."

Myrnal glared up at him. "I said it's not important."

Karl nodded. "As you say. We must go back now. Our employer is dead, and we can collect our pay from his corpse. This job is already over; my colleagues just don't know it yet. Sven can beat the cart back, but we will have to come later."

"Okay," she replied. She'd needed a little help from Karl in mounting Sven's horse with her wounded shoulder, but once she and her goblin ally were both set, Karl lit off down the road as fast as his horse would go toward a truly impressively seedy part of town.


Minshara felt the cart stop, and heard her captors walk around the back to retrieve her. They brought Minshara into a broken-down apartment building and took up their stations in a ground-floor sitting room. They left her restraints on, but set her down in a delapidated arm chair in what may have been a half-hearted deference to her rank.

For several minutes the room was filled with the sound of casual conversation. Most was in Common, including some rather lewd suggestions that Minshara was probably intended to hear.

Minshara heard footsteps approaching her, and a hand was laid on her shoulder from behind. A male voice spoke to her with a faint accent. "Your friend in black, do you know who I mean? Your friend. She will be here soon. I will untie you but stay still. We will run when she can cover your retreat. The man who hired us is dead. My name is Sven. I am not your enemy."

The audacity of these fools.

As Demetri told Altair of his story, albeit briefly, the seasoned assassin could not help but feel how certain things held dear by people are actually trivial matters without concern. Yet, what the entire world seems to do is delve more deeply into things and twist something natural into a hideous result borne from the paranoia and desperation of the human race.

Still, Demetri’s story didn’t win any sympathy from Altair.

The half-elf obviously had trouble keeping his pants on when it came to attractive women and Altair knew for a fact that this was not only a problem, but a liability. How could he trust such a man when the brain in his upstairs head gave way to the other?

No need to make such snide remarks now Dusk.

Altair sighed. He was weary of all of this, the chasing and running and hunting. All he wanted was to finally find Talia and yet, more obstacles seemed to be thrown in his way. Still, he was grateful how things turned out. Now he has a ship out of Tarsis into Narim and a carriage into Nijon. No doubt the long way around as no one smart would wish to face Sailor’s Bane, the road was still rife with danger in the form of goblins and Orcs.

And a partner at his back wasn’t too bad an idea.

The problem was that now since he knew the cause of Demetri’s dilemma, was he willing to take it upon himself by journeying with this stranger half-elf?

In all fairness, Demetri had been helpful and honest since the start and had not warranted any dislike from Altair. In truth, it was Altair himself who had a problem with trusting people. Ever since he was wrongfully accused and expelled from his service in the military, he knew in his heart that he could not trust anyone. And when he went against that instinct, it bought him more trouble from the Shadow Song guild.

Was he willing to make that sacrifice again on account of the humanity left in his soul?


Eventide was slowing coming to Nighttide and the shadowy docks lit only by lanterns which shone brightly into the mists stood out like a pier of a dead coast haunted by the nightmares of the realm.

They had come early when no one was there yet and stood like two figures in the mists. Ghosts of an age past with an ancient steed by their side.

 The wind blew strong in from across the sea and the mist broke about their forms. The time was drawing near and soon it would be that moment to depart.

Altair stood, next to Demetri, their waiting point far from any human eye can see. Blended expertly into the shadows, they waited in patience, both for the ship and of a potential ambush.

Some part of Altair hated the fact that he had someone watching his back, that this partnership downplayed his own ability to defend himself. He knew his own prowess and he knew single handedly he could take ten men in a fight but having someone fighting alongside him made everything seem…less personal. Would he retain the same focus if they found themselves attacked or would he lean on the prospect of a group victory?

“So you wish to know my purpose Demetri?” Altair said, “You want to know so that you do not risk your life meaninglessly?”

Altair had looked into those eyes for some hint of reluctance but found none.

“My mission is a simple one. Get to Nijon. That is my ultimate destination and I will get there by all means necessary. I am not asking you to come along. There is no reason for you to follow a stranger. Of information you seek, I cannot divulge more than what I have already told you,”

Picking up his leather pack, Altair looked up at Demetri once more.

“Maybe, if you decide to take this leap of faith, I shall tell you of what it is that I seek. But for now, if you choose to follow me, just know that I would rather die now than not have the one thing I have set out for,”

He had hoped Demetri would have chosen to go on his way. That was the way his solitary side felt.

The need to be alone, to hunt alone.

However, with the half-elf now as a partner, Altair felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. In fact, he was rejuvenated by this feeling, having been spiraling into a wanton abyss for so long. It was strange and a part of him loathed it but the rest of him knew that this was good.

Because for the first time in a long time, Altair had the one thing a man in his position should never come to have.

Hope.

"Myrnal!"

She had been expecting to see the ninja again but it was still a surprise nonetheless. Her friend looked a little pale however and Minshara couldn't help but ask. Slowly, she brought her horse over. "What happened to you?" she gave her a once over and realised the faint coppery smell that had become so familiar over the past few days. "You're wounded," she whispered gently touching the good shoulder. Already, she could see that the serrated edge of the weapon had messed up the flesh around it pretty badly.

"A steel bolt," Min commented. "Might rust if we don't get it out soon. Then, it might get nasty."

"Eventide in the fourth mark," the watchman yelled again. "And all is well!"

Minshara looked to Myrnal, "I'll get that thing out for you later. But right now, I have to get myself to the docks well before midnight... and I've got a few questions for you."

********

Thankfully, the horses were fast enough to get them there half a mark earlier before the designated time. Minshara got off her horse, looking quite a sight. The smart cream dress was smudged all over in blackened handprints; one of them, Lars', lingered over her behind despite her earnest efforts to dust it off. Her hair was in a mess, although she tried desperately to calm the curls down. It was growing out, she told herself, resisting the urge to use the kaiken to lop off the extra length. If someone thought she was a beggar, she couldn't blame them.

There were no torches at this dark place. Bardan's men were hauling their cargo and ushering some people onto the ship quietly. Min sat Myrnal down on a crate and bent over to see the wound more clearly.

"I don't think I need to tell you that this is going to hurt," she cautioned. She took out her kaiken, a shame that she had no other dagger to use for this prodecure, and unsheathed it. "Hold this," she gave the scabbard to Myrnal. "Be careful with it."

"You might want to bite down on something," Min said one last time before using the very edge of her weapon to lift the bolt fractionally higher for her to able to pull it out cleanly. Fresh blood gushed out immediately as she felt Myrnal wince. Pressing the edges of the wound, Min tried to get all the impurities out but there was little she could without a supply of heated wine for disinfectant. Still, she was never unprepared.

She looked around for something to wipe her hands on, looked at the state of her dress and saw that some of the stains could never be removed and it was ruined for good, so she wiped it on her thighs. Reaching for the hem of her dress, she tore away a long enough strip and proceeded to bandage the wound. At least, now it wasn't so exposed.

Taking the sheath back from Myrnal, she kept the kaiken away in her bag. "That's all I can do for you at the moment," she explained. "You need to get yourself to a doctor. Have it cleaned properly and wrapped up again. I wish I could do more but I've got a ship to catch to Narim. I wanted to ask you what you were doing there but I don't think there's time..." She cocked her head slightly toward the direction of her ship.

Min opened her mouth to tell Myrnal to send word to her parents, after all... they were worried about her. But the smooth voice of Papilonn's steward interrupted them.

"Good evening, Miss Kohl," he greeted. "And to your friend here as well," Jarul smiled without a hint of recognition in his eyes. His gaze dropped to Minshara's lack of a travel bag and the dirty dress she had on. "Did you run into some trouble?"

Min's eyes narrowed. Everything was getting so damned convoluted. "What are you doing here?"

"My mistress sends her regards," he replied, stepping aside to reveal the trunk that that Papilonn had repeatedly sent over.

She sighed.

"She only means well," Jarul offered his opinion for the first time. "I think you should accept it."

She didn't have a choice now. She had no extra clothes. They were all back at the tavern. There was no time and she didn't have enough money to buy herself a new set. "All right," Min gave in. "Tell her I said thanks."

"Will do,"

"Could you do me one more thing?" Min asked quickly, running to the steward before he disappeared.

"Yes?"

"My friend is injured..." she pointed to Myrnal. "Could you have someone look after her?"

"I was under the impression that she was your travel companion," he replied. "But if she is staying, then I will find someone. Tell her to come to the Blood Flower's back entrance. I will be waiting for her."

Min nodded. "Thank you," she smiled, this time sincerely grateful for his help.

The steward bowed courteously and walked past Bardan into the darkness.

The rat skulked away as he did so, only to re-emerge a few minutes later to walk over to her.

"Lady?" he said nervously.

"What?"

"Erm..." he began, unsure of how he was going to break the news. "There's something you should know... I don't want anything to happen to you on the ship," Bardan stammered, "There's this man..."

Min couldn't believe what she was hearing. Another pair? And by Bardan's description, a real threat...She placed her head in her hands, then looked up to Myrnal, who had an expression on her face that seemed rather grim.

More? And on the boat no less. At least now we know. We can keep an eye on them and maybe they won't realize we're aware of them. Hopefully we can take away their advantage of surprise and keep it for ourselves. She frowned. Not much I can do if I have to keep sneaking around Min. If I'm going to watch her back, I need her to be able to watch mine.

"You Barden?"

Barden glanced up at her with a look in his eyes bordering on despair. What else was it tonight? "...yes."

"Look. I'll be straight with you," Myrnal smirked at some private joke. "I'm getting on that ship with Minshara, but we've both had a long day, I'm sure... and I have neither the time nor the energy to stand here and threaten you. How about I bribe you instead and we can call the threat implicit. Sound good?"

Barden glanced nervously from Myrnal to Minshara and back again. "I... my judgment says no, but my debts say yes. How much?"

Myrnal dipped her fingers into the pouch of money in her pocket. She pulled out a handful of coins and dropped them in Barden's hands. "Count it. Tell me if it looks good."

His eyes widened as he fingered through the pile. "Yes. This will do."

"Well?" Myrnal asked. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

He opened his mouth to reply in kind, but his eyes fell to the money in his hand. "Yes. I do. Sorry to take up your time. There is room on the ship for one more." With another nod, he disappeared to finish preparations and do whatever other shady business he had left.

Myrnal turned on her heel to face Minshara. "You have questions to ask me, ask them later. You want me to see a doctor, you'll be the only one around, so you'll have a captive audience." Myrnal smirked. Unfortunately she had Minshara at a bit of a disadvantage. She had information Min didn't, and she was using her injury to claim some of Minshara's time. While in some sense it was comforting to be handling conversation in the opportunistic and merciless way she handled battle... she also felt a little guilty.

Guilt. Ha. One drop in an ocean... I can live with that, as long as we both live through this at all.

"So. What do you say we get on the boat, pour some cheap rotgut booze into my injury, and have girl talk while you fix me up?"

Myrnal's laugh was, in fact, not at Minshara's pseudonym. Rather, she had a hard time containing her amusement at Minshara's assessment of her.

I'm insane. Oh, gods. What a revelation. Suddenly my whole life becomes clear and all my problems are solved, Myrnal remarked mentally, her usual sarcasm bleeding into her thoughts.

"Insane is a good guess. Pretty common one, I think... and usually pretty plausible. Except I've been getting injured protecting you, is the other option."

Myrnal lifted her right arm and pointed with her pinky to the first injury Minshara had treated high up on her left arm. "This one... well, this one was my own damn fault and I can't take it personally. But the one just under it that tore it open?" Myrnal glanced up to Minshara with one eyebrow raised to make sure she was listening. "This one was from a fight with two armed men who were watching you from the rooftops near the monastery. They're dead, if you were wondering."

Myrnal brought her hand down and jerked a thumb back at the wound in her other shoulder. "This one? Got shot trying to keep you from getting stuffed into carts." She broke Minshara's gaze briefly. "Sorry about that, incidentally. But uh... that covers what I've been up to, at least the relevant bits. As for what I'm doing now?" In lieu of a potentially-painful shrug, Myrnal flicked her head to the side dismissively.

"Well, Lyra. I don't want to lie to you," she began. It was true after all. Myrnal had enough deception in her world trying to keep events in her life from upsetting the lives of others... she hated to add more for no reason.

I don't have to tell her everything, but I don't need to lie. I could have ditched her days ago and no one would have known because only one woman knew I was following her anyway. The reason I sought her out is different from the reason I'm sticking around. But they're contradictory, or they'll seem like it to her. The ninja tensed her jaw, once again frustrated by people who couldn't afford to be told the truth.

"But let me put it this way. You don't cheat people who come to you for help. If the reasoning behind that is that you're sick of people dying because someone else could or is screwing them over? You should already understand."

She took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about unnecessary things. You haven't shared your reasons for travelling with me or anyone else and I haven't asked. I'm judging you by the actions you've taken since I've known you, and that's been enough."