The Baker's girl - A tale of Gradzlata

[siobhancan99]

(Gradzlata is my shared setting for a number of threads. Think cold war Prague meets medieval Venice, with real gods and wizards and elves and whatnot)

The smell of yeast permeated the air, through the cloud of flour. Ziva's father, Milan, slowly worked the dough for the Pogacha bread so pervasive in the city. Years past, the bakery was the pride of the north basin. The city, surrounded on all sides by mountains, had its upper classes literally living above all below them in station. In the rise were the middle class, and in the heights the upper. The working class lived below along the river and the natural harbor, in the shadow of their betters. As the river flowed from North to South, the more prosperous of the labor classes lived by the north wall beneath the Demonska Planina and the Ducal Palace. The water in the river was fresher there, and so the land more expensive and the houses larger. Their neighborhood represented those on the cusp of being able to live above in the rise. Their bakery had, for generations, fed the proud. The supervisors and shop foremen. The well to do servants of those in the heights who lived below. Their pogacha was regarded as some of the best in the city, and the family had a modest sum tucked away.

A few years ago, that all changed. Ziva could see her father moving achingly slowly. His leg never recovered from being trampled by a Dragoon during one of the cyclical outbreaks of violence between the Ludowy and Volkish immigrants to Gradzlata. The quality of the bread never suffered, but the number of batches dropped and dropped and dropped again as his movements got slower. Even after doing the unthinkable (teaching a girl child to make the bread) the bakery piled up debt and spent its tidy sum that was to represent his retirement.

Ziva looked up to the tinkling of the bell attached to the door. In strode a dour-faced Volk. Jens-Dieter. She knew the man by name and by face, though it wasn't something she wanted her father to know about. He was a contact through Kemal, the mysterious shadow broker who served as a Duke of sorts to the underworld. A mysterious Keshvian Eunuch who had his fingers in the business above and below the surface. Jens-Dieter was an adherent of the war god. Krieger among the Volk, Bitka to the Gradzlatans. He was proficient at arms, though perhaps not quite as proficient as Ziva. More importantly, he had the power of the divine. He could heal, bolster the strength of others, or smite with the power of his fearsome deity. He was lethal and his presence meant money, but dangerous money.

"you have Bundevera?" He inquired as if they didn't know each other. The pastry was thin sheets of fiddly phyllo, stuffed with nutmeg squash and sugar. It was a pain to make and usually made to order. "yes, but you'd have to wait for it." Jens-Dieter made a face "I'll pay 3 silvers for the girl to deliver it. This is why you have girl yes?" He gestured dismissively at Ziva. "by dinner tonight. I am staying in the Eastern Rise." Jens-Dieter left an address, really for Ziva so she would know where the contact was. "If is good, I will tell my friends. Many Volk would like this."

Ziva's father took the order and the address, then gave it to her to make "Lots of pogacha going out today. I don't have time for this" He complained, but in his heart, he knew strange orders seemed to coincide with her 'other' job working for 'some noble' and she tended to come back flush with cash. "you handle it."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva gave her father a squeeze on the shoulder. It should have been supportive and warming, but felt awkward to both of them instead. "Of course, Tata," she said, as she set the thin sheets of dough out for drying before assembling the sickly sweet treat. Taking over some of the unused portion of the baking ovens, a she had the Bundevera ready within the hour. She tried not to look at Milan. He never let any resentment of her greater speed show in his face or voice. Maybe it was just in her head, a fear that her help meant he felt useless. Not that it mattered.

Ziva packaged up the dessert and grabbed her cloak, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and slipped out the back way. Jens-Dieter. She didn't like working with the man. Not that Jens-Dieter himself was a problem, he was stringently honorable in his way. If you were willing to fight, he didn't really care about anything else. You could be a man, a woman, old, young, whatever. And Ziva was certainly willing to fight, at least if she got backed into a corner. The Dragoons that trampled her father into the cobblestones taught her well the worthlessness of surrender when they just want to kill you. No, the problem wasn't Jens-Dieter, the problem was whoever hired him. You don't hire a cleric of the war got to NOT fight. So whatever Kemal wanted, blood would flow because of it. She couldn't exactly turn down the work though. Maybe when you get a reputation as dangerous, you can turn down invitations like this, Zeva barely ranked as reliable and sneaky.

Her final destination was the Eastern Rise, but her first was the rooftop of the bakery. There was a small maintenance shed on the roof, leaning up against the neighboring building, ramshackle and shuddering in the wind, forgotten by everyone but her, and invisible to windows of any neighboring building. She slipped inside and stripped out of her baking clothes, piling them into a bucket. They'd need to be cleaned before she slept, but at least there was a fresh change of clothed on the little wooden shelf. That was for later though. Now, she would have to settle for the outfit nestled into the heavy wooden chest on the floor. Leathers, fitted tight to her form. A heavy cloak. Three knives, balanced for throwing. Some twine, because you always need some twine. A small pot of glue. A smaller purse of coins. Two pistols she stole from an idiot who tried to rob her back when she'd just started. And her pride and joy. A simple rapier, hilt and blade washed with ink so they don't glimer in the dark. Her best find from the first time she braved the old city. With her gear ready, she grabbed the sack of treats and stepped out into the lengthening shadows of sunset and began making her way across rooftops, dropping down to street level when she was far away enough to no longer fear being spotted by a neighbor. Then she hurried through the crowds. She had an appointment to make.

 

[siobhancan99]

Dark came early in the Autumn, with the Stulkin Vid mountains casting deep shadows over the valley. This year it was unseasonably cold as well, with the touch of frost in the nighttime air despite it being only the tenth month. The warmth was swiftly leeching out of her package, but under her cloak, it did cut the worst of the chill. By the time she made it up the rise and down the ridge to the house overlooking the harbor that was her destination, it was fully black out. She found the place by memory and the light spilling out from a shudder that never quite closed right. Knocking, she was let in by the huge Volk cleric "In...In... I don't pay for logs to heat all the outdoors" he gestured her and her package in, taking it from her. He unbundled it and tore into it. In addition to being a killer, he had an unquenchable lust for sweets. He would be fat if he quit adventuring. In the corner, near the fire was Yvginy. Technically a Ludowy, his proud people insisted on their name from before the occupation. He was a Chelovek. A dour taiga dweller from the far north and east. On his shoulder sat his familiar, a raven. He fed the raven something from his hand and muttered in his incomprehensible native tongue to it, then offered a solemn nod to Ziva. He was attractive, almost painfully so with long thick black curly hair and a well-kept beard. He was tall and lean where Jens-Dieter was stocky. He was also, unfortunately, given to melancholy "It is the curse of the Chelovek" he would shrug. He also had quite a following of women that fell for his “We’re all doomed and I’m so soulful for knowing it” schtick. Quick with just the right line to show he’s so world weary and jaded that he’s better than everyone else.

At the table were two women. One Ziva didn’t know, the other she knew more by reputation than by acquaintance. The first was a tall blonde woman. She wore a hauberk of chain and resting against the table was a greataxe. She was solidly built for a woman, and tall. As tall as Jens-Dieter though not nearly so tall as Yvginy. She was waving a tankard around and talking in broken Homines, the dead language of the fallen Bright Empire that served as a trade tongue and let the disparate peoples of the world converse with each other. She was telling some tale about fighting a bear that sounded half fantastical. Still….

Across from her, paying just enough attention to be polite was a redheaded woman with the too large too green eyes and pointed ears that displayed her elven heritage. Her hair was red, not copper like a proper ginger, but actually red. Sometimes the mix of human and elf produced strange and exotic results. She wasn’t conventionally pretty with a far too wide mouth and a face painted with freckles. When she laughed, Ziva could see brand new teeth, shiny and white. Rumor had it that Kasia had had hers ripped out by thugs and replaced by some rich bastard in the heights The Simics or some such family. The oldest of money. Ziva knew from trying to get that kind of healing for her father that it would have cost her 5-6000 gold sovereigns. The rumor was that she was working off that debt with all manner of unsavory errands. She took every extra bit of work she could, but she and Ziva didn’t cross paths as their skillset was too close. For her to be here, she must be representing Kemal.

“We all here then? You the last?” she gestured with her chin at Ziva “Well sit down and I’ll lay out Kemal’s offer.”

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva gave the big man a pat on the shoulder, always looking to keep the priest friendly, and then returned the nod to Yvginy. His own return nod included a spark of interest in his eyes. The girl turned her attention to the tall blond before she could start to blush. The hunter wasn't her type. Not really. At least, not so long as she kept telling herself that. The Chelovek wasn't the first cute guy... or girl for that matter, she'd met on the job, but she'd tried her best to keep from mixing work and romance. It seemed like a bad idea. Plus, he was mopey, which gave her an excuse to ignore the man when he was in a mood. The raven on the other hand...

Ziva reached into a pocket and pulled out some phyllo crumbs for and scattered them on the table nearby. Then she heard the blond start to boast about wrestling the bear to the ground, and a small giggle escaped her mouth, which she was quick to smother. The blond turned, perhaps to say something, but fortunately Kasia spoke up before Ziva could embarass herself further.

Kasia was a woman of dangerous reputation, and worse habits. Her being here felt like a worse omen than Jens-Dieter. Ziva would never speak the opinion out loud, but she was convinced the mix-blooded woman would crash and burn one of these days, and she didn't want to be hitched to the redhead's cart when it did. On the other hand, were the two of them both here? If Kasia could have taken the job, she would have. Unless it was too risky even for her. Or unless Kemal was stopping her. Ziva frowned, deep in thought, but she hopped up on the edge of the table, feet swinging, as Kasia made her pitch. She calmed herself as the woman spoke, and tried to settle into the rhythm of a job. Check for exits, check your parners, check the prize. Her eyes kept flickering over the unknown in the room, the blond bear baiting babe. Then back over the two men, watching them, watching their reaction to the proposal. Yvginy caught her eye once, and watched her for a long moment while she pretended to look at the windows again. Ziva hoped this wouldn't turn out to be as dangerous as she feared.

 

[siobhancan99]

Kasia laid it out for them in brief fashion.

"There is a man, wanted by Magistrate Konrad. He's a Keshvian of noble birth and blood, accused of murder. Given his station and the diplomatic issues dealing with Kesh, he was granted parole before his trial before the Duke. He immediately disappeared. It was assumed he went back to Kesh, but on the off chance that he did not... Konrad placed a 3000 Gold sovereign bounty on him. It was thought that a prize of this level would encourage him to leave as well. He has not. Kemal, through his contacts in the small Keshvian community has ascertained that he is at a house in the Eastern Heights. Kemal will provide the location of the house and a floor plan. You will not find this man without this information. In exchange, Kemal demands a cut of 1000 gold for this information. You can split the remaining two however you like."

Jens-Dieter nods "for me, the terms are acceptable." The woman and Yvginy nod their assent and so Kasia moves forward. "the house..." she unrolls a parchment "is here in the eastern rise. Outside you'll find two Volk mercenaries. Breastplates, shields, longswords. In the house expect some trouble from the lord. Like many Keshvians he's proficient in magic." Yvginy shrugs "this is what Yvginy does too." His familiar raven mutters something and he feeds it again "I am skilled in the sorcerous arts."

Kasia nods "well if the group is amenable.." she leaves the parchment "remember, Kemal knows who you are and where you are." She sighs as she says it "guys, just don't fuck Kemal. You can fail that's fine. But don't take the bounty and not pay up. You all seem nice."

The 500 wouldn't cover her father's debts, but it would cover most of them. It would free them up enough to get a little breathing room... maybe even hire another hand to make up the speed and get the bakery on its feet. Ziva certainly didn't have to say yes... but she might think twice about saying no.

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva raises her hand, "Before I sign on... I'm guessing this is a 'bring him back alive' kind of situation, yes? Or at least 'dead or alive'? Because if we're only supposed to bring back a head I'm going to have to decline," she sighs, and then hops down off the table. "Otherwise, count me in." She shakes out her hands. If a person didn't know her, they might assume it was the motion of an athelete, shaking out her limbs, getting ready for action. For Ziva, it's a nervous tick, shaking spare flour and dough from her fingers. She takes a deep breath, and bounces on her toes, thinking about the volk mercenaries. "Yeah. Count me in."

Ziva looks away from Kasia as the redhead spills the fine details and gives the group the location of her target. Instead, she pulls her flintlocks from their holsters and lays them on the table, and takes a thin strip of metal from her cuff, a small lockpick she's had to use on occasion, and teases the iron shot from the paper wadding for one of the guns, and then rehosters them. She sees the blond warrior woman watching, and blushes, returning her attention to Kasia. The gaze of the woman just amplifies her nerves till Ziva leans over and goes up on her tip toes to whisper, "In case we need a lot of flash, without actually shooting anyone. It makes a good distraction." She drops back down to her heels and listens for another moment before pulling a small roll from her pocket and gnawing on it. This is the part of the mission that always worries her. Plans are great, but they just fill her mind with every way they can go wrong. During a job, it's too late to think of new ways for things to go wrong, so everything feels right. Ziva did wonder sometimes if she reacted a little backwards, but it was working for her so far.

 

[siobhancan99]

Kasia nodded "You assume correctly. Dead he's worth nothing. He's only worth something alive to be tried or sent home. If he dies there's a diplomatic kerfuffle and that's bad. It's a bad bad thing."

Gradzlata, seated between two major powers, was always in a precarious spot. Adding the third largest country into the mix would be devastating. Sometimes, in the city, justice had to take a back seat to diplomacy. In this case, however, it worked out that this wasn't to be an assassination but instead an apprehension only. "another thing" the little redhead added "you're not the only ones that know where Mustafa is, and he's likely to move again soon. This is a right now job. It isn't a ten days of planning job." She left them with that, and the group huddled around the table for a moment "Only one thing to do" Yvginy spoke "Let's go see the house."

As they walked from the rise up to the heights, they chatted a bit, in part to distract from what was now biting cold. As they moved into the upper parts of the city, the chill was progressively worse due to elevation. The large blonde loomed over the tiny Ziva "Ulricha" she offered, gesturing to herself. The name was Volkish. There was a tradition in parts of the kingdom of shieldmaidens, and Ulricha certainly fit the bill. She spoke no Gradzlatan and her Homines wasn't excellent, but she was powerfully built and moved with a swagger that suggested that she was proficient with the blade.

When they made it to the heights they found a large lot, about two acres on a ridge overlooking the city. Looking down, mostly what could be seen was the haze of smoke from all the chimneys, broken through her and there with the soft glow of light. Here in the heights the air was tinged with the smell of smoke rather than filled. The air was clearer as well. The large lot was ringed by a low stone wall, more for show and demarcation of the property line than to keep anyone out. At 3 feet high it was easily vaulted over even for the diminutive Ziva. The foursome crouched by it though without going over.

Looking over the house itself, they could see one grand entrance. Two Volk mercenaries in chain with sword and shield stood at the door. The house was large, with multiple chimneys for a variety of fireplaces. Light could be seen through the frosted glass (an extravagance) on the lower levels of the house, and one room on the second floor.

"Thoughts?" asked Jens-Dieter.

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva grinned up at the taller woman, and tapped her own chest lightly. "Ziva. Pleased to be making meet of you." she replied, using one of the very few Volkish phrases she short of knew. She kept to Ulricha's shadow for most of the trip into the heights, doing her level best to keep her movements hidden and silent. Fortunately, one of the things Ziva was legitimately really good at was keeping hidden and silent, staying on the balls of her feet, hunched slightly. If they ran into trouble, she'd be an ugly little surprise for anyone who started it. That was the hope anyway.

Soon she was hunched between Jens-Dieter and Yvigny, close enough to be pressed between them in the shadowed lee of a nearby building. She glanced over the wall to assess the two guards. Early enough that they weren't yet tired from the night. Normally, she'd suggest finding a bar and killing a few hours with beer and cards till the Volk mercs were nice and drowsy, but they were on a hidden time limit here. "Stay here. I'll circle the place, see if there's a better entrance. I'd prefer to avoid these guys entirely, if it's an option."

Ziva took a moment, gathered herself, and vaulted to the other side of the wall, as quiet as falling silk. Three quick steps to the side of the house, and she began listening to windows, working quickly and keeping an eye to see if the mercenaries decided to start patrolling like a useful guard might. She shook her head. Soldiers often made really bad guards. Sure, they could fight, but they never seemed to think someone might not want to come straight at them. Where she ran into problems was if the target started hiring off-duty town guards. Those guys seemed to actually think for a living.

While she went around the ground floor, she also checked unlit windows, seeing if any of them were unlocked, or at least loose enough for her to slip sliver thin metal tool into the crack to jimmy the lock. She didn't bother with the second floor. Ulricha seemed nice enough, but there was no way she'd be climbing brickwork in all that gear. Yvigny maybe. But that would mean leaving the mucle downstairs where it'd do no good. She snuck back to the others go give a quick report.

 

[siobhancan99]

As Ziva made her way around she noticed a few things. The glass windows were not openable. They were primarily a lattice of iron with cloudy glass within the lattice. There were a few shuttered windows on the ground floor, and more above. None were open but with her tool she was able to pop the latch on a lower floor window. At least they'd have a way into the house if they decided not to go in the front. There was also a lattice for climbing roses on the side of the house that came near an upper floor window. It would support Ziva, but would not likely support any of the others. The third piece of information she had was that in the back, where she could smell smoke and feel the heat of a continuing fire in the brick of a chimney, she could hear two more voices speaking in Volkish.

Her further waiting was rewarded. Her supposition that the guards were soldiers and not former town guard was a good one. They did not, in fact, patrol the grounds. Largely, they leaned against the door and ate sausages, and watched the road.

Returning with this information, Ziva was crouched at the wall with the others. Jens-Dieter considered "there is no way Ulricha or I will be moving quietly through that house." He inhaled, then exhaled, considering the house again. "but you and the wizard" he gestured at Yvginy "could." He considers again "three options. Option 1) we go hard through the door. three of us in the front, one of us in the back to catch him fleeing. Option 2, Ulricha and I go in through the door, Yvginy and Ziva through a back window. Option 3) Yvginy and Ziva go in through the second floor window, Ulricha and I listen for a signal that says they are in trouble and then we go in through the door. What's everyone's vote?"

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva raises a hand, "I vote the second option. It makes sure to get Yvginy and myself inside, and lessens the chance of the target escaping. Too much chance that we'll miss him entirely if we try the second floor window, especially if that lattice can't hold tall, dark, and broody here." she gently elbows the Chelovek. "If we go in quiet, I bet the guys in back come forward to help the soldiers up front, and leave us to scour the house for our nobleman. Yvginy can stop him from magicking us to death, and I'll knock him out, then we get him back outside and signal a retreat."

Itching to vault the low wall and get underway, she listens to the other votes while loosening the rapier in her scabbard. She hopes they can get through this without killing anyone, but that's looking increasingly unlikely. The downside of dealing with soldiers over town guards was that town guards were peace keepers by training. They could be brutal, but the main goal usually wasn't to kill anyone. Soldiers, especially mercenary soldiers, held no such compunctions. They would kill, and that means they'd probably force us to kill them. Ziva swallowed down hard on her regret for that. It wasn't their first choice, but these guys were hired to protect a murderer on the run. They'd brought this on themselves.

 

[siobhancan99]

Jens Dieter nods "Fair." he didn't seem in love with it, even if it was his own plan. Yvginy seemed on board though, and Ulricha merely shrugged and muttered a moment with Jens-Dieter in their native tongue. "You whistle" he nodded to Yvginy "and we will attack from the front. You will be hearing us for sure."

The pair snuck around the back, hiding for a moment in a small garden nestled against the mountainside. It seemed like it didn't get much light, and was mostly comprised of a small bench and a few sad dead bushes. Still, it was all they had. True to his word, Jens-Dieter made a great deal of noise attacking the front of the house. Volkish war cries were met with Volkish war cries, and there was a clash of metal and screaming. Yvginy used the cover to open the shutters Ziva had unlocked, and his lanky frame slide gracefully into the dark room beyond. He muttered a word and a soft glow emanated from his palm. He touched a chain on his wrist and the glow transferred. The room was lit, though dimly and the pair could see a door. They appeared to be in a parlor of some sort, with a small bookshelf and a large wine rack. Overstuffed chairs and with a small table between them held a hookah and an open book. They could hear motion, as the men inside the house moved about in response to the shouting. A voice from upstairs called out as well, though it was indistinct with the heavy door and the floors between. Male sounding, perhaps their quarry. Perhaps another guard. Yvginy looked over to Ziva "you are the sneak. you go first."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva nodded, pulled a dagger from the sheath on her left hip, maked sure the blanked pistol was ready for a right handed draw, and opened the door. With the violence underway and the lights on this needed to be fast, so she moved low and quick through the rooms, looking for stairs up. She found them, and a man at the base of them, at the same time. Thankfully, he was watching the fight at the front.

Chain shirt, but leather pants. She drove her dagger into the back of his knee and lept up to clamp a hand over his mouth as he tried to scream. Using all of her weight, she pulled the already fallling man down and to the side, helmeted head crashing through an oak table top. He was still breathing, thank the gods, but he was well out of the fight. She drew her rapier next, not wanting to rely on catching anyone by surprise and took the stairs two at a time. Still silent, for all that was worth with the racket out front. They needed to find this nobleman and bag him in a hurry. The second floor landing was clear, and Ziva gave Yvginy a moment to catch up as she scanned for which way to go next.

 

[siobhancan99]

Ziva expertly brought the man down and made her way quietly up the stairs. At the top of the stairs the hallway ran left and right. To the right was darkness and doors, on the left was another door, larger than the others and with the glow of light beneath it. Yvginy muttered a spell and then drew in close. He mutters softly in her ear, breath tickling it "Two in the room. A woman, naked. A man, armed with a scimitar. He is hiding next to the door, waiting for someone to burst through." He placed his hand on the small of her back in an overly familiar gesture "I can put the woman to sleep but as a fellow practitioner, his will is entirely too strong to take him out like that."

He moves to the door, muttering another spell. Ziva could hear the lock of the door click and he stepped back. He gestured to her "Remember, there's a man with a sword just inside the door. If you want....I can summon a bear. Unsubtle but it would draw the attention of the man long enough for you to get in next to him."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva blushed at the touch, glad that her partner was looking away as she clenched her teeth. Damnit girl, now is not the time for distractions. She cursed under her breath. "Fine just make sure you... dismiss it or whatever before it actually eats either of them, ok? Then follow me into the room and relock the door." Ziva drew her blanked pistol into her offhand, took two steps back right to the far side of the hall, and lunged forward, stomping on the door next to the next to the handle. It popped open, and in front of her the giant furry ass of an honest to god bear popped into being. The naked woman screamed. The man hiding behind the door screamed too, and swung his blade at the beast. Even Ziva screamed a little behind her tightly closed lips, it was a goddamn BEAR. She may have known it was summoned, but it still stunk of the deep woods, and the blood of a fresh kill. The beast spun on the nobleman, a paw raised to swipe his head off, but as quick as it appeared, it vanished again, with Ziva lunging in right behind it.

It was too much to be hoped for that the Mustafan's blade might have been pulled free of his grip, but at least he wasn't ready to cut her down, and once she was through the doorway, her speed more than outmatched his reach. She pressed the nobleman close with her bladework, not giving him time to concentrate on any mystical response to the assault. The scimitar sliced through the air scant inches for her leather covered skin, but Ziva found herself grinning, adrenaline singing as the scored small nicks and cuts, focusing on the slower man's sword arm. The strategy worked. Between one backswing and the next, the blood slicked handle slipped from his numbing fingers, and the blade clattered to the floor. He cursed, and started to say something, but Ziva stepped up close and swung the steel capped grip of her flintlock into his jaw, breaking it. He crumped to the floor.

None too soon either. SOMEONE was pounding on the door trying to get in. Yvigny had thoughtfully taken a moment to block it with a dresser, but that wouldn't hold forever. "Now what?" was written all over his face as she fought to catch her breath. Sheathing both blade and pistol, Ziva went to the (thankfully shuttered) window and threw it open. Then she pulled some sheets from the bed, toppling the now sleeping girl onto the floor. "Sorry..." Ziva apologized, tearing the sheet with one of her daggers to make it long enough. Then she looped it under the arms of the unconcious nobleman, tied it tight, and heaved him out the window. It was all she could do to lower him to the ground without letting him simply drop, but at least it was quick. "Ok, you next! I can climb the lattice." Yvigny nodded and Zira braced a boot on the windowsill. He clambered down quickly, but before he could make it to the yard, the dresser started to slide across the floor, the door opening. With a grunt, she held the sheet with one hand and drew her armed pistol with the other. "Move and die with hole you fucking!" she shouted in her best Volkish. There was a pause, perhaps to consider the risk, perhaps to consider the syntax, but who cared, the weight came off the end of the rope. "Thank the gods." she muttered, putting the gun away and grabbing the small bag of copper. "Gold for biscuit pay!" She said, and tossed the purse onto the floor where they could see it, across the room from the window. Then she swung out of the window and grabbed at the lattice she'd assumed was there, but totally wasn't. "Oh balls..."

Ziva twisted in the air, stretching out to absorb the impact of freefalling from the second story window, and throwing herself into a roll that ended with her smacking the back of her head against the wall. She tried to stand, and the whole world spun. Yvigny grabbed her shoulder to help steady her, but she pushed him away. "N-no, get... uh get the guy to Jens-Dieter. Before he bleeds out or anything." She staggered up, and lurched over to the other side of the wall. Keeping low and out of sight was easy, considering anything but crawling seemed beyond her at the moment. She wasn't sure how far she'd gone before strong hands grabbed her and lifted. "Fuckers, cut you..." She fumbled for a knife as she was half-carried, half dragged, but then the person spoke. "Ulricha, Ziva. Shush." She felt the surge of panic leach out of her, and concentrated on stubling along as best she could in the grip of the blond woman. Later she would guess she made it about a block before she finally passed out.

 

[siobhancan99]

When she woke, she was still dressed and could feel the lingering energy of the war-priest's prayers. Jens-Dieter looked down at her in subtle disapproval and shook his head with slight exasperation. He stood and went out into the next room. Ulricha sat by the fire and visibly relaxed when Ziva raised her head. "He worry. Also Yvginy." She stood up and took the girl by the chin, forcefully tilting her head up "You foolish. Take too much risk." Though there was a palpable look of relief in the giant Valkyrie's expression "Next time you talk before you jump. Ja?" The woman didn't bother to wait for an answer, heading into the next room and shouting for beer.

Still by the fire was Yvginy. He smirked at her, his expression joyful for may the first time, though she suspected somewhat at her expense. Still he brought his chair over "that was a magnificent exit. Truly. You were fun to watch" His thickly accented Gradzlatan had a quality to it that made everything sound either dour or slightly smirking, depending on his mood. Usually dour. Right now... smirking. Still he seemed genuinely proud of her accomplishment "but you remember, yes, that I am a wizard?" He took a gold coin from his pocket and muttered a few words, then let it go and it floated ever so gently to the ground like a feather. "perhaps, next time, we do not throw precious man that need to live out of window. You wish to jump well... tovarisch... then you jump. But quarry we float gently to ground like butterfly" He winked at her though and leaned back to snag a glass of brandy. "he chatters at us. Oh does he chatter. The man he talk and he talk and he talk. If he killed that man he killed him with his words." He stood, offering a hand to Ziva "come along, fierce little warrior. You can talk to him now instead of us. After all you threw him out a window. You owe a conversation at the very least."

When they made it into the next room, she saw Mustafa tied up, looking sullen. He was devilishly handsome, if you went in for his type. Swarthy, with long mustaches curled and waxed. His long dark hair resembled Yvginy's and he had a lean frame. "Ah. little tigress! you must listen to me!" he implored "I am no murderer! I am framed! I cannot return to Kesh for my uncle has done this to me to seize my land and my throne! I cannot go to trial though. You must free me to clear my name! I will make it worth your while. I will pay mountains of gold! I will make you my second wife!"

Jens-Dieter snorted "Ulricha said he's not her type. Guess he figures you might fancy him more than she does."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Shivered at the blond's touch on her chin. Gods her eyes were so blue. Something in the Ziva's gut lurched when she turned and left the room. Then she glanced over and spotted Yvigny, matching his smirk with a happy grin of her own. "Yeah, yeah, wizards always wiggling their fingers and melting the fabric of the universe. One of these days, you're going to have to tell me about these tricks BEFORE we go upstairs." Her grin faded, and she gave him a more serious nod of recognition. "For real though, without you, that guy with the sword would have gutted me. Thanks." She pulled herself to her feet, expecting some wobbliness. Nothing. Damn but Jens-Deiter knew his business. She owed him a fresh batch of gibanica for this one.

She walked into the next room, and raised an eyebrow at Mustafa as he implored her, before sitting down across from him. Ziva shook her head, trying to hide a grin. "I dunno, desperate isn't really a good look on any man." she said to Jens-Dieter. Then more quietly, the touched the back of her head and met his eyes. "Thanks." She turned back towards their captive. "Hi! You were super willing to gut me for a not-murderer. And really? On the run and you take time for a... a date? Not that it'll do you any good, I don't want to get your hopes up, but I am curious, why can't you go through a trial? Most of us would be lucky to even GET a trial. But you're too special for it?" She leaned back, waiting for an answer.

 

[siobhancan99]

Mustafa sighed "the witnesses, they are powerful men of the city. I don't know what you know about the grain trade but... anyway its complicated. Suffice it to say they are powerful wealthy men right now because of the huge harvests in Ludowy and the grain shortage in Sewochan. They will be believed no matter their stinking lies! They are old friends of my uncle. A powerful but poor priest at home. He wants my land. If I am convicted of murder here I will be hung. If I flee home I am a fugitive in the eyes of the Lawbringer! He can have me excommunicated and take my land anyway! It is only by staying here and never being tried that I can keep my uncle from doing this. He is old. When he dies they will not have any incentive to keep lying... please you must believe me. I have never laid my hands on a man in anger."

His big beautiful brown eyes looked soulfully into Ziva's " your friends are only interested in the coin. What about you? are you not interested in justice? does your heart not burn at the inequities of this great city where the rich are so rich, and the poor so poor?"

Jens-Dieter snorted "You think he's telling the truth girl? Cut him free and you'll never see him again."

Yvginy rested his hand on her shoulder "He's quite beautiful though isn't he, poppet?" He let his hand fall away, and his raven flew onto his shoulder "My father tell me never to trust someone so pretty."

Ulricha looked on, then shrugged as if to say she was lost before sharpening her sword. Jens-Dieter looked to Ziva "Why don't we turn him in and if you believe him... you can investigate his tale and if you don't... which you shouldn't... we can find something that pays actual money to waste our time on eh?"

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva shrugged, squeezing Yvginy's hand in hers before it leaves her shoulder, "I'm sorry, you are very pretty, but you're also barking up the wrong tree. If we cut you loose, it wouldn't matter if you were honest or not, the people who hired us would have our throats cut before we ever saw a penny of your treasure." A knot twisted in her stomach. She knew handing him over was the right call, but she hated the uncertainty of his guilt. "But... if I find some proof that these witnesses are liars, maybe we can both keep our necks in their current undamaged states. Give us their names. Who knows, you might get lucky."

Ziva stood, stretched, and marveled that her body wasn't filled with the aches it seemed like it should after the night's events. She looked at Jens-Dieter, "The man is right about one thing though, the grain merchants in this city are a bunch of snakes. I wouldn't put it past them, even if there's hardly anything we could do for the poor bastard. Anyway, how long was I out? And when is our contact going to arrive? I'd like to be able to celebrate a bit with our pay before I head home." She glanced and Ulricha and Yvginy, "Drinks? I know Jens-Dieter is up for it, there's a great tavern just down from where we met up called the Ironseat. Dwarven place." She glanced back at the doomed nobleman, guilt laying heavy in her chest, no matter how light her words. She glanced over and saw the valkyrie, watching her. Those damn blue eyes seeing through the careless facade. Ziva sighed, her breath a shudder of drained adrenaline and emotion, somehow still buzzing from the events of the evening. Unwilling to go home and let it go just yet, even if the coin HAD already been in her purse. Ziva bit her lip and turned her face away from the crew. Where the hells was Kasia?

 

[siobhancan99]

With that thought came a knock. It wasn't a gentle knock. It was the harsh staccato that meant one thing and one thing only. It was the town guard. Jens-Dieter ambled over to the door, clearly expecting them. He threw the door open to reveal six militia and an older, well dressed man that Ziva recognized as magistrate Konrad. He stepped in without ceremony, looking around. "well. Alive and unharmed. Or at least healed after which amounts to the same thing." He gestured and a blond City Elf came forward and muttered a spell. "It's him. No illusions. No transformation magic."

Mustafa looked terrified "Please! Please its all a lie I tell you! I swear to you I killed no one!" The guards moved to seize the tied man, and dragged him unceremoniously through the door. Konrad turned "and how will you be taking payment then?"

Jens-Dieter spoke quickly "5 letters of credit with the goldsmith Zoltan Zbrenic. One for each of us and one for a friend."

Konrad sighed "I assume the friend is a Keshvian Eunuch who hasn't been above ground personally in a decade?" He looked weary and resigned as he mentioned Kemal without mentioning him. "Well. Groups like yours have to get their information somewhere, and I have to get important prisoners from groups like you so... I suppose we all feed that man's ambitions some way or another." The magistrate gave a curt nod to the rest of the group and turned to Jens-Dieter "My assistant will arrange things before lunch. You should have your letters available for pick up at the courthouse."

Ziva could see a woman, dressed in black leathers, scowling in at Konrad and playing with a dagger. She seemed tense, poised for action. As the magistrate started to make his exit she muttered "How many times do we have to go over this? You don't go in by yourself. Not anywhere."

Konrad merely gestured at the City Elf "I wasn't by myself" as they headed out to the carriage. "Besides none of them are Ludowy and its the Ludowy who want to kill me." The rest of their argument faded into the night as the door was shut.

"Drinks would be good." Yvginy nodded "Dwarf beer always tastes like mushrooms though." He makes a face "I mean i like mushrooms in a nice stroganoff and all but..."

Jens-Dieter rolled his eyes "racist. you know they import grain for their beer now."

Yvginy shrugged and looked over at Ziva "well, lead on lovely girl. This is your town. We are all just strangers here. I trust you to take us to proper drinks and maybe some music. I feel almost festive. Almost."

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva turned her back to Mustafa, wrapping her arms tight around her torso. She knew most of these people were guilty, the ones that get dragged in by the guard, but she never liked watching it happen. Maybe that meant she was too soft for the work, but when the thrill of a fight wasn't alive in her veins, and she had to think about the fate of men like Mustafa... it was an awful feeling. She was glad when he was dragged from the room, and at least she didn't have to hear his pleas. She also resolved to at least look into his claims of innocence, though she was hoping to find nothing at all to support him. Better for her conscience that way.

Once Konrad and his group had withdrawn, she looked back at Yvginy. "If dwarven brew tastes like mushrooms, you're going to a shitty dwarven brewery... or you've pissed off the barkeep, which happens if you claim the brew tastes bad." She let out a slow breath, and gestured with her head. "Come on, I'm starving. It always makes me hungry when Jens-Dieter has to fix my head."

Ziva led the crew out into the streets, and found they really weren't far from the Ironseat after all. It was something between a tourist tavern and an outsized dive bar, but Ziva also happened to know it was where all the people at the nearby market tended to gather after hours for drinks, and no one knows drinking like late shift restaurant workers. This late and things have started to quiet down, but even so, the group was lucky to find a table in the corner of the room. Better than sitting at the bar. In a nod to dwarven stereotypes the world over, the bar stools were all repurposed anvils, and notoriously uncomfortable. Ziva sat down with a sigh between Yvginy and Ulricha, and reached for her coin purse before realizing her mistake. "Gods Damnit." she let her head thunk on the table. "I threw my coinpurse at some guards as a distraction. I'm broke."

 

[siobhancan99]

Yvginy made a face "Yes I remember this" He sighs and pulls a few silvers out of his purse and puts them on the bar in front of the girl. Ulricha looks between the two, and shrugs, as if she doesn't understand what the girl said. When she sees the coin she arches an eyebrow and puts one on the bar as well. She then turns and in fairly decent dwarven speaks to the innkeeper. "Better than her Homines or Gradzlatan then" the dour mage muttered. He too ordered a beer and waited on it to arrive. "Mushroomy" he proclaimed, winking at Ziva to show he was kidding. "so, Kotik..." He looked down at the diminutive Ziva "Why does a good baker's girl like you know so much about where to buy beer eh? Are you sneaking out at night and hanging out with a bad crowd? disreputable foreigners and mercenaries hmm?" He grinned and drained his beer nearly in a go, then ordered another, leaning back against the bar with classic Yvginy insouciance, regarding everything with his general sort of detachment.

Ulricha turns to Yvginy "what is Kotik?"

"It means kitten. you know like" he makes a motion and and mutters a word and the illusion of a kitten appears in his hand, mewling silently. Almost as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Ulricha grinned wide "wonderful!" clearly entertained by the illusion. Real magic like Yvginy's was rare enough that most people didn't see it and even soldiers never saw much beyond its combat applications. "You should do show" She nodded emphatically. "Charge money. All come."

His look was momentarily withering, and when he looked away, Ulricha gently nudges Ziva to wink at her. She too drank deep of her tankard.

Standing nearby, Jens-Dieter kept his eyes not on the trio at the bar, but on a group of Ludowy bravos. This section of the rise was Ludowy territory in practice if not in fact. Two volks in the bar might mean trouble. Jens-Dieter was clearly keeping sober and monitoring the situation, taking small sips to be social but more on alert than he had been even at the house. His hand never strayed far from his blade, and he never truly relaxed even as the others did. The riots a few months before (yet another set in a cycle of them) still had the city on edge after all. The appearance of Konrad himself brought the riots to mind, as they'd been over his punishment of a Ludowy man for raping his Volkish wife.

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva blushed furiously at the pet name, but couldnt help but enjoy it too. She smiled broadly at Yvginy, showing that she knew he was just joking. "Everyone needs a hobby. Plus, you know... I don't think you've ever been by the bakery, but Dad got hurt in a riot a few years ago. That kind of healing, for an old wound? It costs. A LOT. I had to pay for it somehow." Ziva raised a mug, and took a shallow sip, utterly certain that if she tried to keep up with her companions, she'd be under the table in no time. A thought which brought it's own blushes to her cheeks. When Ulricha nudged her, it didn't help matters one bit, but she returned the wink and grinned. "Yeah, mister wizard. What do we have to do to get you to put on a show? Better money, less likely we'll all get stabbed..." Ziva raised her eyebrows, hiding her own smile behind the mug, just like Ulricha, though she couldn't hide the giggle for more than a few moments in the face of his faux offended scowl. Then she glanced over at Jens-Dieter.

She sighed. "C'mon man, I know things are tense, but they know me here. I mean... usually I'm in an apron, and bearing a stack of rolls half as tall as I am, but still." She finished, looking down at her tight, form fitting leather armor. "I'm not saying get drunk with us, just... don't look like you're spoiling for another fight tonight. Ok?" Ziva reached up and gave the serious man's hand a squeeze, trying to get him to chill the heck out. She knew it was a lost cause, it was just the way the priest was, but when she wasn't ambushing mercenary guards, Ziva was nothing if not a peacemaker.

 

[siobhancan99]

Jens-Dieter gave a small shake of his head "You're a local. You can't understand. We will always be foreigners and we..." he looks over at the Ludowy "will always have to be wary." He reached out, giving her a little squeeze on the shoulder "I will not start a fight. As long as I am sober" he reaches for the sword pendant on a chain around his throat, normally not worn openly because of the potential it will get snagged in a fight. "This will keep them from starting a fight. If I am not sober... maybe not so much." He offered her another little smile "Do not worry, little Ziva. I am not about to wreck your favorite bar over politics."

He grinned down at her "Besides someone has to carry you home if you get sloppy. Though..." he gestured with his tankard at the other two, leaning in so only she could hear "I'm guessing you already have someone picked out for that." The normally serious war priest winked at her and grinned "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Baking all day and carrying on in the City all night... well that makes a girl dull if she doesn't have any fun" He stretched, cracking his back "I'm off for a little fun myself after this. And by that I mean I get to fall exhausted into bed and hope my children don't wake up too close to dawn."

It was the first he'd really said anything about his personal life. "My wife is not an early riser." He sipped again at his beer, "So breakfast falls to me. That means When they are awake, I am awake. At least when I'm home. When I'm not they go hungry" he laughed and looked around "speaking of, what's good to eat here eh?"

 

[DramaNerdette]

Ziva looks at the other two drinking partners, distracted in a moment's conversation. She knew she'd been a little... flirty tonight. But that either would be interested. She'd thought it was simply the excitement of the job. She covered the embarassment with another pull from her beer. "Um, they have a roast duck. I don't know how they do it, but it comes with a rye bread and it's super moist. Best thing on the menu." Ziva yammered on for a few minutes, expounding the virtues of half a dozen dishes, and both Yvginy and Ulricha grinned more broadly at her obvious nerves. There was no way Jens-Dieter was right. Right? "I'm not that kind of girl." She told herself. But instead of gracefully ducking out, she stuck around, drinking, chatting, even dancing with Ulchina at one point, and kissing the tall blond woman. She held Ziva close and tight, but then released her into Yvginy's arms. "Perhaps another night, little Kotik."

I give her a bashful wink, "Tease."

She laughs, "Perhaps!" and waves as she head out the door.

"We should go too." says Yvginy, his arms wrapped around the smaller woman. She leaned into him. Turned in his grip and pulled his mouth down to hers, trying to capture that same boldness she had during the raid, but it's elusive. Her nerves vibrate and she's tightly wound as a bowstring against him. "Yeah. Um. W-we should." She shouldn't do this. Did he even want to do this? There's no way Jens-Dieter was right about both of them was there? "I'm a little drunk. Um. Is it... ok? That I kissed you?" She breathed against his lips, hoped that he wanted more. Feared he did as well.

 

[siobhancan99]

Yvginy grins, looking very much like he is the cat, and she more a mouse "of course." He whisks her out into the night and hails a carriage, loading her into it. He gives an address to the driver and slips into the back, sliding his arm around her "I have something to show you."

The carriage never leaves the rise, instead going up a street as it approaches the north wall. Here in the rise there is no wall, as the wall is a remnant of the time the land beyond the city was unsettled. At the very edge of the street is a former guard tower, overlooking the countryside beyond and also with a good view of the Demonska Planina, the small mountain that holds the ducal palace. Yvginy whispers a word and the door opens. As they step in a fireplace lights and the door shuts. She can feel no draft, and can see wards at the windows that probably keep out the chill. "come kitten" he takes her by the hand, leading her up a set of steps, and then another to the roof. There, he stands looking over the fields beyond, pressing into her back and trapping her against the crenellations. His fingers brush her arms and then he slides them to her waist "We only stay up here a minute. is not cold for me, but probably for you yes?" His lips hover over her ear, the breath washing over the skin. He draws her hair away from her neck then kisses along it, lightly biting at the hollow of her throat. "And well. I do not want you to get too cold."