RP:Looking for Work

Background

Meri was looking for a job. Any job really, she wasn't too particular.

Gluttony'd lost a man recently, and they needed the spot filled.

Both were going to find more than they bargained for.

NPCs played by Thistle

The Whaler's Bar, Cenril

The Whaler's Bar was but one of many establishments within Cenril's walls that was useful for illicit meetings. The establishment was typically loud and crowded, and when secrecy wasn't a complete necessity meetings there ensured decent booze and food that wasn't guaranteed to poison you. Though the tavern was, for the moment, in an apparent lull, Onora knew even so that she wasn't likely to be getting stabbed. 'Twas always a concern in Cenril, no matter whether the person was of good or ill repute. Stabbing was as much a staple in Cenril as fish. That and dead bodies. Popular things. She smiled humorlessly as she studied her nails, tidying their edges and cleaning them with a small pen knife. Pushing bright flaxen hair away from her dark eyes, she looked up momentarily to study the room at large and glance towards the door. Onora was one of Slaine's largest assistants, used to dealing with bullies and all manner of scum. Likewise, she was used to working with those of loftier position. Such were the perks of working with a sty like Gluttony. So many fun new people to meet.

Meri enters the bar. The woman was tall, standing a solid fight fivet-foot-nine, toned, and covered with tattoos. Both arms had vibrantly colored full sleeves, both arms depicting their unique seafaring theme. Even the woman's knuckles were tattooed. One hand has the word 'pain' tattooed into the knuckles while the other had 'love'. Still there were more tattoos, the list could go on. But the only other visible set of tattoos were on her shoulder blades where a single star per shoulder blade was inked. A cigarette dangles between her painted red lips, smoking away as booted feet carry her up to the bar. "Whiskey," she murmurs. Once her drink was ordered, those blue eyes sweep over the room, noting who is present. Each face is studied. Each person sized up. Each look is so calculated that no one person really gets more attention than the other. Even Onora is given her fair-share of time under Meri's scrutinizing gaze. By the time she is done studying the bar, her drink is sitting on the counter, waiting for her attention.

Ahh, and that was like as not to be the woman Onora had been charged to collect. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stood up. At six foot flat, Onora was tall for a woman, though not particularly muscular. Her build was wide shouldered and wide hipped, making her a good bet for a brawler had her attentions not turned towards other means of making money. Hair comfortably settled behind her shoulders in its loose fishtail, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her rough -- though clean -- woolen half-pants. Onora had other, fancier clothing, all right, but this wasn't the place for that. She strode with a confidant, loose stride up to the bar next to Meri. The cigarette was eyed, as was Meri's numerous tattoos, though what Onora thought of them was hidden behind her easy, friendly smile. "You'll be Blondie, I take it?"

Meri observes Onora's approach. Damn that woman was tall...and Meri thought she was tall for a woman. A brow is lifted at Onora's question. A hand is lifted, taking hold of the cigarette from her mouth. Her other hand reaches for her whiskey. The glass is emptied and the empty shot glass is turned over on the counter. An easy-going smile curves at those red lips as she finally answers Onora's question, "Ya got the right gal. Who might ya be?" Friendliness was forced. This was not the sort of meet and greet Meri was keen on. It put her on edge....Not that her being on edge was apparent. She still played things cool, remembering that she has been putting out word for work. Sometimes people don't take kindly too that though.

Onora dipped her head at Meri's affirmative, and turned so that she propped herself against the bar with her elbows. Her body language proclaimed that she found none in the tavern threatening, though her expression claimed to want a good time, rather than any fighting. "Call me Onora. I'm one a Slaine's assistants, if that sparks a glimmer." Slaine was well known amongst the lower, cruder circles of Cenril to be the manager for Gluttony. She handled relations with other establishments and groups, and did most of Gluttony's hiring.

Meri motions for the barkeep to come back their direction. "A refill," she mutters to the bartender, tapping the top of her emptied shot glass. "And whatever she wants." The blonde gestures to Onora with a toss of her chin. Meri is silent, pausing their conversation long enough for Onora to place her order or decline the offer. The least Meri could do for Onora was buy her a drink for her time. Meri was either not the chatty sort, at least not a first, or she was playing things close to the chest. Either way, once the barkeep steps off to fill the order, Meri slants a crooked grin toward Onora, moving the conversation along with an easy-going, "Go on." Her cigarette is pressed to her lips, sucking in a lungful of smoke as she listens to what else Onora has to say. Meri has the decency enough to exhale away from Onora, having no desire to send a plume of nasty smoke right at Onora's face.

"Ale. Straight." The words to the bartender were perfunctory, though she lightened them with a close-lipped smile. From the angle, he'd only be able to see the side of her lips and the curve of her cheek, but that weren't none of Onora's problem. That easy expression was turned back to Meri. "Word says you're lookin' fer some steady coin." She tilted her head to the side. "That true?"

Meri inclines her head to Onora in a stiff nod. "Aye. I'm lookin' and I have been puttin' the word out." The bartender interrupts their conversation, this time to bring them the drinks they ordered. Meri is silent until he is once again out of earshot. Habit. " I fancy myself a bit of a jane-of-all-trades." At least in terms of criminal activity. "So I reckon whatever ya guys got to offer, I can handle it. Long as I am gettin' paid. All I care 'bout." Even if there was a lull in the tavern, Meri was careful to not reveal too much information. Since this seemed like a legit offer, Meri offers up her real name. "Meri, by the by."

Onora turned long enough to take her drink before resuming her previous position. Drink in her right hand -- the side furthest from Meri -- she nodded along as Meri talked. "Still Onora," she returned, sliding into a grin for a few seconds before sobering down into thoughtfulness. She tapped a finger on the glass containing her ale, and took a long drink. "Mm. Now there's a thing I like t'hear. Tell me, y'got still with talkin're jes looking right tough?"

Meri chuckles lightly. The butt of her cigarette is placed into a random empty beer bottle that happens to be occupying the counter. Meri turns slightly in her stool so that she is facing Onora, sweeping her shot of whiskey off the counter. It's tossed back with ease. The blonde leans forward a bit, unable to keep a devious grin from forming on her lips. "Ya wanna test me, love? I'm game." She had two sheathed dagger shoved into the back of her boots, one per boot, not that she intended to use them. Meri still seemed quite at ease in her barstool. But they were still there, and they were only the visible weapons Meri carried on her. "Cause if ya do I'm more than happy to go take a walk with ya, baby. Talk 'bout my kinda first date."

Onora watched Meri for a moment, studying her face. From there she followed the lean line of Meri's body down, taking note of musculature and what she could see of the other's hands (callouses, if visible, were of definite interest). Her head tipped forward to see Meri's feet. There was something lurking in her eyes as she followed Meri's body back up, though she took a more direct route. It was a slow thing, that look, and took nearly half a minute to complete. In a conversation, thirty silent seconds was too much for some people, but Meri seemed to be the quiet type. Course, people could seem to be a lot of things. Onora was well versed with that. She took another drink, nearly draining her glass, and waved Meri's comment away with her left hand. "Noted," she said, voice going low in apology. "My meanin' was t'ken whether y'prefer fightin' t'talkin'. Cause for both, where I'm from. What're yer skills?"

Meri merely lifted a brow as Onora looked her over. No comment was made during that thirty seconds. No questions were asked after the look was completed. Her hands were certainly calloused. Scars were harder to see. They blended in with Meri's tattoos, probably quite intentionally. That was not the only purpose of her tattoos, to cover up. "Why, I reckon that how ya define talkin'. If I need to be sweet talkin' my way outta a situation, or someone into a situation...I think I got that covered. Business related. Don't think I am a complete oaf. But I reckon I ain't no Chatty Cathy. Ya know? Loose lips sink ships. As for fightin'..." Cue a grin and a pause. "I think I can hold my own most of the time. I mean what braggin' rights do I really got in this turf? I may not got some of the muscle that some of these fellers who might be lookin' for work got...But what I don't got in muscle..." She falls silent. The empty shot glass that she has been holding onto is suddenly propelled toward the back wall of the tavern at high speeds, shattering against the wall. It's not thrown. It's almost like the object does it of it's own accord. Except it was somehow clearly Meri's doing, even though she had not moved a muscle. "Well I think I make up for that."

Onora was good at holding her expression steady. There was a slight flinch throughout her body, a momentary flicker as muscles tensed and relaxed all at once, but the easygoing smile she held for Meri didn't change. She turned her head deliberately towards the far wall, and then back. "That wasn't very nice," she said, quiet, though there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Y'got patience? How 'bout keepin' yer yapper shut?"

Meri rolls her tattooed shoulders in an easy-going shrug, ignoring the minor mess that she made. Given the people she did find herself associating with these days, she was quite certain she had an abundance of patience. "Oh yeah. I got patience. But we all got lines. Still, gold talks. Ya want me to have some extra patience with someone? I'll follow the bosses orders." When Onora mentions keeping her mouth shut, Meri just gives her a look. She was also quite certain that she could manage that. "Loose lips sink ships," Meri repeats.

Onora nodded. There was a reason she got sent out to test waters with the churls Slaine was thinking about hiring. She finished her drink and pushed away from the bar. The empty glass was set down without a sound, and Onora pocketed her right hand, waving Meri forward with her left. "Geri retired recent," knife to the head, damn messy way to go, "and we got a spot with Slaine's crew open. She'll want t'see you on a run afore we make any lastin'. . .agreements. C'mon." She started walking towards the door.

Meri stands and follows after Onora, taking a moment to first pay for the drinks she ordered during her stay. There were no concerns about meeting Slaine or being put on a run. Meri follows after Onora in complete silence. It all seemed pretty standard to her thus far.

Onora stood a moment outside the tavern, watching as Meri exited after her. She kept up a light patter of meaningless conversation as they headed south down Memorial Street and towards the slummier parts of town. It was part of her gift with people; she put most of them to ease with her breezy way of conversation and friendly exterior. She had about her the way of a harmless drifter. The easy-come, easy-go attitude was not one that lent itself to the more dastardly pursuits of the slumside bastards. Added to that, her rough exterior and occasional drifts into mischievousness kept her friendliness from taking on the slimy cast of those peddling dangerous goods. Most peoples' instincts put Onora as harmless, though it was easy enough to see she wouldn't go down easy if put to the wall. For the most part, those instincts were true. Onora had a job to do, plain and simple, and she saw to it with frankness and the charm that had gotten her through life on the streets of Cenril intact. "If y'like fights," Onora was saying as they passed through Arril Street's glum confines, ignoring the faded signs and boards of what businesses still remained, "ye'll be hard pressed t'find better'n what we got. Soddin' bloody, every night t'doors open. Cockered me right good first time I laid eyes 'pon it, an' I came back so often Slaine'd said 'twould've been right saucy o' her t'not take pity on me." That street was crossed, and with it they set foot past the first boundary of what separated mostly new Cenril from the mostly old, and the mostly (or, perhaps, relatively) well off from the destitute. Onora didn't seem to notice: she talked and moved the same way she had through the upper end of town, where the money still flowed like molten gold.

Meri could do meaningless conversations. It was when things got too personal that Meri started to clam up, but she didn't seem to have a need to worry about that. Not yet. It did not matter what end of town she and Onora ventured into, Meri still practiced the same habits. The streets were the streets in her opinion and it did not do well to let your guard down, no matter what street you were on. Those blue eyes are always dancing about the area. Sometimes they settle on Onora's features for a time as they idly chat away, but they always eventually roam again. It was just Meri's nature and it did not matter who she was with. "Oh I like a good fight. Real excited to see what ya got to show me from how yer talkin'." It was true. Some rings were far more impressive than others. Some were just jokes. "Sounds impressive." She hoped it was. Meri needed a little more excitement in her life.

Cenril Slums and a Gluttony Bolthole

Onora grew more animated with Meri's responses, describing fight after fight that she'd claimed witness to. There was no talk of business, not then. Not yet. That part, at least, wasn't so much Onora's place, and she'd learned over hard experience where the line was best laid down. The walk took a long time. The city was a mass of sprawling alleys and streets, tangling over badly-planned architecture and paths that hadn't been meant to be paths, but had become what foot traffic had demanded of it. Soon enough they were passing ragged children and gaunt-faced adults, and not a few wary or hostile stares. Onora ignored them all, carrying on her conversation with Meri like they were still back at Whaler's. She showed no sign of stopping the gab by the time they reached a worn down building at the edge of a residential shanty-town. There were a few people outside the building who Onora exchanged curt greetings with, though no introductions were made. One, in particular, took her time looking both Meri and Onora up and down before she moved out of the way of the door. Onora took it in stride, body-language relaxed and a jovial sort of impatience on her face. She didn't hassle the woman on the door though. Seconds, and they were inside the stone building. It was old, and had never been high class from the looks of it. The ceilings were low enough that Onora had to stoop slightly, and the hallways narrow. There were no doors to speak of; doorways wore blankets like cheap decorations. The sounds from within those stuffy rooms proclaimed cheaper entertainment, but Onora did not stop for apologies or distractions. Through the building, they cut sideways through what appeared to be someone's living space and took a short and rickety flight of stairs upwards. The room they ended in was artificially large; remnants of two bracketing walls showed space had been cleared. And there, men and women hung about, their forms muscular and hard. Two were dancing with shuffling feet and raised fists, and from the encouragement around them it looked to be practice, and friendly. Onora escorted Meri through without a word, pausing to knock at a door that had clearly seen better days. "Chin up, love," Onora said, wearing a half-smile with a look that claimed the better part of the cream. "This'll be Slaine f'you."

Meri strides confidently through the slums of Cenril next to Onora. It was likely becoming more apparent that of the two, Onora was the more gifted conversationist. Some of Onora's comments are met with grunts of agreements or nods. Any hostile stares are disregarded. Meri didn't exactly feel threatened by them. She also could not exactly blame them either. Meri keeps her hands in plain view once they draw near the entrance of the building, standing alongside Onora like she was supposed to be there. As far as she knew, she was. The woman at the door is met with a nod in passing. Meri continues to follow Onora, growing a bit more silent as she observes her surroundings. Any of the men and women who happen to look her way are met with an easy-going nod. Just a polite greeting. She had no desire to risk showing disrespect, no interest in pissing off the wrong people. That was no way to go acquiring a job. Those blue eyes linger on the practice fight taking place within the room, her attention only pulled away from it when Onora speaks. A wink and a confident nod are given to Onora, waiting this Slaine to actually answer the door in some form, even if it was just a verbal command to come in. Meri was not about to just barge in. While she waits, she watches the fight.

"What." It was not so much an entreaty for conversation, but it was the response from the other side of the door. The voice was of middling range for a woman, but flat and low with what sounded quite like frustration. "Ho then, boss, got a daisy t'show ye." Onora's response was definitely of the cheerful sort. It was met with silence, which Onora evidently took as permission. She opened the door. "Boss, this'll be our Blondie then -- goes by Meri, she does -- and Meri-girl, this's th'great beast 'erself. Slaine." There was a great wooden desk with its share of pits and stains that dominated the majority of the room. Two stools sat meekly by the wall alongside the door. It was a cramped room, with but a single miserable window that boasted shutters and no glass. Where the desk dominated, the woman behind it commanded. She was a forbidding creature, with craggy facial structure and hair pulled severely back from her face. Her hands were swollen in the way of those hard used, and her nose had a definite crook to it. The skin beneath her eyes was purplish and slightly sagging: signs of exhaustion. The eyes themselves, however, were dark and clear. Much of Slaine was dark. Her hair was black and rough, her skin a depth of color that was reminiscent of rich, brown earth. Her eyebrows lifted to see Onora open the door with a stranger, and then they lowered. "This'd better be good, you harlot," Slaine said.

Meri immediately looks away from the fight when a voice is heard behind the door. Now the doorway commands her full attention. Meri listens intently. And then Onora opened the door, blue eyes instantly fall on Slaine before dancing about the room. The tattooed woman tried to keep a straight face when Slaine speaks her last sentence. Emphasis on tried. It's a struggle. There is a ghost of a smirk pulling at her red lips already. Meri lingered in the doorway for Slaine to see, those baby blues bouncing back and forth between Slaine and Onora. She'd wait for Onora to enter first. Not because she was shy, just because it seemed to thing to do. "Hell, I ain't dainty like no daisy." While Meri wouldn't enter, she wasn't about to stand around like a silent oaf. Impressions had to be made, for good or for bad. There was no sense in keeping those comments she'd like to make silent. They'd come out eventually if she was hired. If. That's all Meri had to say. Slaine was left to determine if the tall, lean and tattooed blonde did indeed resemble a dainty daisy.

Onora had been about to roll her eyes in a very dramatic fashion when Meri spoke. Instantly the large woman breaks into a grin. "Oh, she's good," Onora said, preening before any deals had even the chance to be struck. Slaine was not so easily impressed at the sign of some words, though in Onora's grand opinion, what she had to say was more than important enough to be taken at face value. Slaine frowned, though the expression was neither fierce nor angry. There was a thoughtful cast to her features as she looked past Onora to Meri. "Blondie," Slaine said, eyes narrowing, "Blondie, Blondie, Blondie. . ." "Roughneck lookin' fer work, boss. Tattoos?" Onora's response was not a little dry, her grin shrinking down to a mocking smirk. "Did I ask y'to find 'er, then?" Slaine dropped the stylus she'd been doodling on what appeared to be a signed piece of paperwork with. "That y'did." "Which slot?" "Geri's." Slaine nodded at Onora's replies, and leaned forward onto her elbows, crossing her arms. "Right, right." Towards Meri, she said, "Got a chance t'prove yerself, I does, t'ough I'll not be payin' 'till I see 'ow y'work. Have some business t'conduct proper t'night. Catch y'fancy?"

Meri shoves her hands into the pockets of her pants as she listens to the exchange between Onora and Slaine. The blonde did not chime in this time while Slaine and Onora hashed out their business. She had some common sense. The name of Geri was insignificant to her. She had no idea what slot she would be filling. Work was work though. It's not until Slaine addresses Meri directly that the woman is met with an easy going grin. She was up for the challenge, at least she hoped she was. She was confident in her abilities but you never know sometimes. "Seem fair to me, I reckon. Ya could be takin' a risk for all y'know. Don't want to be payin' me before yer sure I can cut it. Ya just tell me what ya got in mind and I won't let ya down." Well. She hoped at least.

Slaine nodded to Onora, who turned back to Meri. "We've some business t'run settin' up a fight. Yer job tonight'll be lookin' tough. Don't talk 'less yer talked at first. Y'jive?"

Meri doesn't question. She just nods. The job itself seemed simple enough and straight forward. Looking tough. She thought she could pull that one off fairly easily. "Sounds good," she says, her words directed to neither woman in particular. Meri is silent once more, waiting for any further words or instruction.

Onora met Slaine's eyes, and something passed between them. Then she gestured for Meri to follow her out. She closed the door behind them. Back in the larger room, Onora paused outside the doorway and motioned Meri closer. In a low voice she said, "Slaine don't hire on dumb brutes. Don't slide well should things go crooked out on a job. Keep quiet, an' watch ev'rything close. Geri weren't no dumb guard, mark me, but one Slaine trusted t'deal wi'th' clients. So watch an' learn t'night; Slaine'll be like as not ready wi'questions once it's done. Meet me back here at dusk. Clear?"

Later That Night

Meri follows Onora out of Slaine's office. Again Meri nodded to Onora, acknowledging the woman's words of caution. "Clear." Unless Onora had anything else to add to the matter, Meri would depart. Upon her departure, she would return to the Inn in Cenril, to the cheap room she rents when she actually has the gold to do so. Hours would pass until dusk would come around and once it did, Meri made her way back to the building to meet with Onora. Meri was dressed in the same fashion as she was earlier, a pair of black pants and that burgundy corset. Her player will assume that whoever is at the door tonight, presumably the same woman she saw earlier, let's Meri pass with little trouble. If any questions were asked, Meri would mutter something about following orders.

There was some chatter going on in the lower levels of the building, and grim faces to meet Meri with. Slaine was at the end of the hallway, her slender hand gripping a larger man's arm so tight her knuckles were visibly pale, even at that remove from the door. Onora caught Meri upon entrance, another man and woman standing slightly behind her talking in quiet tones, and said, "Clients got caught by one o'them street gangs. Y'ready t'fight, love?"

Meri was trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Onora's words did nothing to shed any light on the current drama. Regardless, Onora was met with a nonchalant shrug and a stern nod. Fighting was not something she was scared of. Onora's hushed word are reciprocated in kind, leaning in toward the woman she was most familiar with so she could question, "Who am I fightin' and how much do ya want 'em roughed up?" Important questions she needed answers to in order to perform her job.

"Boss!" Onora waved her arm down the hallway, her voice booming in the confined space. Slaine looked up, pushed the man away, and started striding down the hallway towards them. Onora moved ahead of Meri to open the door Meri'd just come through, snapping her fingers at the man and woman talking just behind. They all started moving through. "Not sure yet 'oo did it, 'jes that one o' th' runners caught wind and brought it here. Slaine keeps a bakers' dozen or more o'them kids paid fer news like this. So here's th'deal -- we find out who did what, and we goes an' pays 'em a visit. Once we're toe t' toe, Slaine'll have some words, an' then we'll know if it's killin' or makin' examples." As Onora talked, she was walking them outside past the woman on the door and the few loitering around watching and waiting for trouble. "Sling, Spider, on me." She snapped to two of the men -- one thick and muscled and the other surprisingly skinny -- who joined up with the group without any comment. A kid, slender with youth and hunger, peeled away from the corner of a building as Slaine jogged up ahead of the group. Wordless, he trotted away through the dingy buildings and narrow lanes, and the group followed. They had no light with them but what the fading sun saw fit to give. No one stopped them, or gave them trouble as they moved -- indeed, it almost seemed as if word of their passing proceeded them. The streets were almost eerily empty but for a few drunks long gone in their cups and a body left to bloat here or there.

Meri admittedly did not know as much about Cenril as the rest of this gang. The rivalries between gangs, who the band of troublemakers might be pitted against, there were all things that were still a mystery to Meri. Nothing that she would not pick up in time, given the chance to pick them up. Meri merely nodded to Onora as she moved out the door. She did not move ahead of the pack but she did not trail behind it either. That, she felt, would be taken as a form of cowardice. Meri did not fancy gaining the reputation of a coward. Another nod is given to Onora, letting the woman know she was still listening. Whether Meri would be assisting in making an example or becoming an accomplice to murder (or committing murder itself), that seemed to be of no consequence to the woman. She was willing to do either option if that is what it came down to. Meri heeds Slaine's warning of not speaking unless spoken to, putting that into good practice. No further questions were asked about the job. Not now that they were on the streets. Meri was the sort who preferred to believe that even buildings have ears. You just never know who might be lurking out of sight, especially when those in sight were few and far between.

Meri's silence was noted by Onora, though Slaine had taken to leading them with a grimness that made its way down through the rest of them. If Slaine wasn't happy, weren't nobody happy in her little slice of Gluttony. They were the ones who brought in business, and they were the ones who settled scores. If Gluttony was a business that could be considered part of the underbelly of Cenril, then Slaine's crew was even lower still. Someone had to clean up the messes. Best it be them who were slick and competent than anyone else, right? Onora whispered their names to Meri as they walked -- quickly -- to their destination. Slider and Spider, the two men who'd joined them outside; Luca, the man who'd been talking inside; and Johana, the woman who'd been talking inside. "This doesn't happen often," she explained after another few minutes of silence. "Usually our clients has some o'th' better guards in Cenril. Either they've gotten right sloppy comin' t'meet tonight, or someone's targeting them special. Either way, we gots t'make sure they don't get scared off. Don't suit well t'have clients gettin' clobbered when they're comin' t'see you." The walk took half an hour, most of it eerie silent. When they arrived, it was up the east end of Arril Street, the street still wide enough to allow passage of carriage. It was clear, as they approached, that the carriage itself had born the brunt of a magical attack. One of the horses lay dead, while its partner was nowhere to be seen. There was a puddle underneath one of the wheels, and scorch marks along one of the door. It was also empty. There was a woman crouching on the top of the carriage, and she stood as Slaine approached her. Even in the dimming light of dusk it was easy enough to tell her hair was pale and her skin dusky with sunlight. She exchanged some words with Slaine, and then watched the rest come closer. "You," she said, pointing to Meri with a long baselard dagger, "I haven't seen before. Name yourself."

Meri’s baby blues land on each face as Onora names them, taking note. “Sure hope it don’t happen too often.” Not because Meri was sweating the outcome of this situation. The tattooed woman seemed cool and at ease, just quiet. The reason Meri hoped this was that if it were a rare occurance is because is that is spoke to how much control this particular group had in the city. How much fear they managed to invoke. To hear that this was a normal thing? Well. That would just make Meri wonder if she was investing time with the right group or if her time was better spent seeking other work. But since it was not the case, these thoughts did not cross Meri’s mind. Upon approaching the carriage, a slender brow is lifted at the damage dealt. Meri stayed with the group, though her blue eyes roam about taking note of as many details as she can, from the single dead horse, to the scorch marks. Anything of significance, Meri was looking for it. It’s not until she is spoken to that Meri quits trying to absorb as many of the details as possible. A single word passes through Meri’s red lips, her tone an even one. It’s not exactly friendly but it contains no trace of disrespect either. “Meri.”

Onora rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop putting on with yer airs. You and yer fussy types 'ad y'chance. Get t'business, says I." But the woman atop the carriage wasn't looking at Onora and didn't acknowledge her, either. She was looking Meri up and down, eyes flitting over the lot of them only to return to Meri. Finally she nodded, bent to put one hand over the bent rail of the luggage harness atop the carriage, and hopped down. "Wasn't a gang," she said to Slaine, as if in response to some question Onora hadn't been privy to. "Assassins, if I don't miss my mark, and not ones without skill." Slaine ducked her head the slightest bit as if to peer into the carriage. "Or kidnappers of some sort, though this seems to me to be much too slick for their type," the blonde woman corrected herself. Slaine nodded. "Who among you count yourselves trackers?" The blonde woman asked.

Meri was no tracker so she remains silent, shaking her head to indicate that she did not believe that she fit the bill. That's not to say she was opposed to some investigation work. She may not be a private eye investigator but she'd pull her part in any way that she could. Those baby blues travel about the other faces. Spider. Slider. Luca. Johana. Slaine. Onora. Each face is given a look, waiting to see if anyone else spoke up with claims to be a real tracker.

Slaine pushed a stray curl of hair away from her face, and took charge without missing a beat. "Team one: Onora, Meri, Savia. Team two: me and Spider. Team three: Slider, Luca and Johana. Savia, use your witchy --" "Slaine," the blonde woman interrupted, sounding horrified. "Shut it," Slaine growled, dark eyes dangerous and without any sort of patience at all. "You 'n my two're gonna sniff out where t'magic user went. Two gots some merchants t'visit." Slaine ignored Spider's low groan and cursing, and continued with words that housed steel: "Three'll find where them Haut Monde guards went off to. Find 'em, you report t' me first afore y'even think o'haring off t'Haut Monde HQ. Got it?" Savia flicked hair out of her face, looking pleasantly bored by the whole affair. Onora said to Slaine, "Gotcher, Boss." To Meri she said, "Jes' follow me lead an' you'll be pissin' straight wi't'rest of us. Questions?" The others started to disperse, leaving Savia, Onora and Meri alone with the carriage.

Meri listens to the teams being split up. She was not certain of the skill set of each individual yet, so she did not fully understand why the teams were selected as they were. Nor was she about the question this, at least not yet. Maybe some other time. Meri shrugs indifferently at this talk of how if she follows Onora's lead, she'll be fine and be able to keep pissing straight. The whole scene was really not that offputting to Meri as of yet. There was nothing overly intimidating about this to Meri. Maybe that would change if they actually managed to find the culprits. The woman had seen a lot of interesting things in her time in this land so far, some of which she really had no desire to tangle with...not that she'd ever admit that. "Got it," is all that Meri says to Onora. She was the new girl on the job, so she was not here to argue. She was feeling this group out just as much as they were feeling her out. "You lead. I will follow." Not that Meri was traditionally a follower. She just understood her role in this drama.

Onora nodded to Meri with a slick little smirk as she turned back towards the carriage. By then, the street was empty but for them. Dusk deepened the shadows of buildings so they pooled into a darkness mirrored by the bruised sky above them. They had another hour, maybe two, before full dark would be upon them. In the meantime, the trail -- whatever was left to them of it -- would be getting cold. Their clients could already be dead, but what mattered more than clients was the catching of those who'd maligned. Whether or not it involved Gluttony, strictly speaking, didn't matter right then. Onora said as much to Meri. "This ain't all our fight. It's more a thing o' territory. This patch, see, it's known we tail it regular. Y'got Craven westside, Sawtooth t'the far east, and us keepin' business through here. Things like this, they don't happen. When they do, it's all sufferin' fer those o' us preferrin' business t'blood." Onora spat, bearing her teeth for a moment to the fading sunset. "So, it's not none o' ours done been taken, but we got reputation 'round these parts. 'Swhy y'got Savi-baby here." Onora nodded to Savia, who made a point of blatantly not hearing Onora's nickname. Savia was studying the carriage, anyways. "She belongs elsewhere, don'tcha baby?" Onora snickered to herself when Savia serenely chose not to reply, and continued, "She's bard trained, she is, though she got other talents make her useful t'us. Whatcha need t'know 'bout Savi-baby 'sthat she don't fight." Onora's voice dropped, turning slow with condescension. "But she's got a blimmin' bag o' tricks. So, we keep 'er pretty little head tight t'her neck, and we'll find them dollymops an' give 'em hell." Meanwhile, Savia was only barely paying attention to Onora's words as she hummed to herself, face folding into lines of concentration as she sought for specific sounds, specific traces that she could then direct them with. She stepped light and slow around the carriage, watching it with such fierce attention that it was clear this altercation -- whatever it was -- was somehow personal to her.

Meri finally was a little bit more chatty, now that everyone else had left and it was down to just the trio. She did not want to go overstepping her bounds in front of Slaine, especially since Meri was under strict orders not to speak unless spoken to. "So which groups are enemies and which are friends?" She was familiar with the concept of territories. That would certainly not be her first gang. Some of Meri's tattoos had stories, like those stars on the back of her shoulder blades. Not symbolic of any gang in these parts but it was still symbol. Just not one that Meri was incline to boast about. "And who is Savia runnin' with?" She had a guess, her guess was Haut Monde based on what Slaine's words. Meri did not like making needless assumptions, not with these matters. It could get you killed. Or worse. Some things were worse than death. Savia not fighting was not top concern for Meri. It was something the blonde felt she could work around, depending on numbers. Most everything was a game of numbers. Even if Onora and Meri were the most skilled fighters in the land, which they likely were not, numbers could make or break a battle. "I'll do my best to keep the heat away from her if we find any heat."

Onora slid a glance the way of Savia, thoughtful. "Right now, far's I knew, Gluttony didn't have enemies. Things change real fluid-like. So, Savia's friend fer this jaunt, an' th'rest we figure out as we move. As fer -- " Savia turned around, the right side of her lips quirked up in a smile aimed for Onora, "She one of yours?" Onora shook her head, letting the unspoken words go quiet. Savia turned dusk-darkened eyes Meri's way. "When you're their girl, maybe we'll have a chat." There was a teasing lilt to her voice, though it didn't match the intensity of her expression. She gave one last glance to Onora, and turned back to the carriage. "I don't think this's any of your locals' work. Too precise," she held up a hand as Onora bristled under her friendly expression, "not that yours aren't skilled. It's just different. Either of you been through Thonmet's territory?" Onora frowned and shook her head, looking sideways at Meri.

Meri dips that blonde head of hers in a nod to Savia. She could respect and understand those conditions. Loose lips sink ships, that's what she kept telling Onora. "If I end up bein' their girl, I reckon I might take ya up on that offer." When that sidelong glance is sent her way, Meri can only shrug. She couldn't blame Onora for looking her direction though. You had to cover all bases. Especially when it came to the new face in town, trying to join up. People were shady. You just could never tell. "Ain't met no one named Thonmet or anyone who claims to be workin' with for for anyone by the name." While Meri had a penchant for lying, this was one of those situations were she knew better than to lie. Especially after Onora pointed out her bag of tricks.

Savia took in a long breath and let it out in a big whoosh. "Well. Thonmet's a slumlord. Not the worst of them, certainly not the best. Let's hope they're in a good mood tonight, shall we?" She turned away from the carriage, her expression mutating into something vaguely amused and wholly confident, and started to jog down one of the streets. Onora grunted and jogged after her, feet slapping the ground. One of the most annoying things about Savia was how quiet she usually was. At least, Onora figured, if the woman couldn't be arsed to break a nail fighting she might as well be good at hiding. Which she was, Onora knew that for fact. However, rather than glare at Savia's back in affront for the sake of what should be natural law, Onora concentrated on keeping track of her footing. They were delving back into the crummy cesspool of Cenril's slums, albeit in a different direction. The smell of it was almost covered by the stench of the full tide, all thick and cloying saltwater and rot. Onora barely noticed it anyway as she kept her mouth open to suck in air. She followed Savia's chosen path without hesitation, her only concern to stay close on the other woman's heels as they ran.

Meri felt no shame in asking these sorts of questions of making these sort of admissions. Not only was she a new girl trying to break into the criminal business in Cenril but she was also a new face in these lands all together. Two months, tops. When the two other ladies break into a job, Meri does as well, this limited the blonde's chances for any further questioning. Keeping up was easy. The tattooed woman was surefooted enough and keeping up with them was certainly no issue. She hardly broke a sweat. Running for Meri was a daily occurrence, something she fit in with all the drinking and who knows what else. The stench was also ignored. It was not pleasant but it was not the most unpleasant scent Meri has had the misfortune of catching a whiff of in her twenty-four years.

They ran. They ran for a long enough period of time that Onora started to feel her perception of direction start to become dizzied. Cenril's north side, all fresh and new and full of merchant pocket change, was a rather orderly grid for the most part. Middle of town started to get a bit questionable, but the slums and old districts were a maze of found pathways and crooked lanes. Some were meant to be streets, some were just the natural paths that formed between buildings that seemed to sprout without any sort of plans. Rather like mushrooms after a good rain. They went down narrow alleys, across ramshackle streets and up rubbish-choked pathways. Occasionally they would slow as Savia turned and twisted her head, teeth clenched on a barely heard melody. Then she'd be off again, a cocky grin splitting her lips to reveal teeth to the sky. It likely wasn't any longer than twenty minutes they'd been running when Savia suddenly grunted and twisted mid stride. "Heads up!" Onora had all of two seconds to spot the polearm. She ducked right, arm slinging out to hit the haft up as she dived low, avoiding the blade to the stomach that Savia had almost run upon. Onora rolled down, coming up with a dagger in one hand and a rude gesture on the other. "Meri!" Onora's voice cracked high and sharp as she spotted another moving shadow in the uncertain, new mass of them. A hand lifted and fell, dagger thrown directly at Meri's back. "Down!"

Meri's heart was beating fast, a direct result of all the running. Her breathing was hard and heavy, though she did not look entirely tuckered out. The woman had some stamina, that was for certain. Meri was suffering from the same issue that Onora was. Her sense of direction was thrown off by all the twists and turns they were taking down the maze of the streets. It became hard to keep track of the path they exactly took as they ran down it so fast. Meri was in the back of the pack, offering her a few more seconds of reaction time than the rest. The woman slammed on the brakes and came to a complete halt. The sheathed dagger lodged in the back of her boot suddenly flew upwards, the hilt of the weapon ending up securely within the grasp of Meri's tattooed hands. Onora's warning gave her further indication that trouble was heading specifically her way. Meri did not duck, however, but she does look over her shoulder. The woman's had certain abilities, abilities that she intended to use to her advantage. She was not always so keen in relying on her telekinesis, but the goal of this adventure was to show off some skill, so she'd show them what exactly she could do. That dagger that was aimed for her back? It just stops, midair, levitating there in a stasis. Meri set her sights on the polearm next. Unless the wielder of this weapon had the capabilities to deflect Meri's mental abilities, they/he/she/it would find that the weapon wrenched from their grasp soon enough, drifting closer to the tattooed blonde before joining the dagger in an inactive but levitating state. If all went according to plan, Meri would have three weapons in her control, including the blade in her hand. Meri was not on the offensive yet, not entirely sure who the targets were for this fight....but those baby blues were looking around to try and solve this mystery.

Onora's eyes were sparkling, a direct indication of her enjoyment of Meri's ability. Too, the direct attack meant trouble, and after a day and evening filled with frustrating what-ifs and complications that would affect both Slaine's and Gluttony's reputation, Onora was ready to crack some skulls together. The man with the polearm moved with it; he was obviously used to the presence of magic in battle and did not hesitate. Rather, he used its telekinetically charged energy to bring his feet off the ground, somersaulted backwards so he momentarily crouched on the haft of the spear. While this happened, and Meri's attention went to the polearm, the wielder of the dagger was darting soundlessly forward. This time it was a stiletto that was flung in advance towards the back of Meri's knee, while she armed herself with a matched pair of ear daggers ideal for thrusting. She came in low, peripherally aware of the dagger Meri was now in control of, and struck for Meri's left hamstring in a quick one-two. Then the man atop the spear lept off the spear, lunging for Onora with a short sword he'd drawn. Onora sidestepped as he hit the wall with one foot and rebounded back onto the ground. She drew a long ballock dagger of her own, lips peeling back into a feral grin. They closed in an instant, with the strange man taking the offensive as Onora wove around him, avoiding his sword by virtue of not being where he struck in order to preserve the integrity of his blade. She was caught out in a parry, and he used the length of his blade to benefit to slap down her dagger and bring forward the hilt of his weapon in a crushing blow to her hand. Weakened, she was driven back, and his sword was poised to gut her as she sidestepped again, taking a cut to her right oblique. A push dagger, cleverly hidden within a special brace under her sleeve, had entered her hand, and she slashed it up towards his pectoral muscle as he recovered from his swing.

Meri was distracted by the woman wielding the daggers. Onora is left to battle with the male for the time being. Meri's attention could only be spread so thin. Meri slides diagonally backwards and to the left. The first jab to her hamstring is not fully avoided. The blade bites into the flesh of her skin, leaving a deep gash but not actually piercing her leg. Though blood dribbles down her leg, Meri ignores the pain, not letting it become a major distraction in the heat of battle. The polearm that is also apparently currently on Meri's control is the weapon the woman elects to use on her opponent, though not to the full extent it could be used. Her goal is not to impale the woman, but to deliver a sound crack upside the woman's head from the shaft of the weapon, hopefully hard enough to render the woman unconscious. Better unconscious than dead. Maybe she'd be of use. Maybe they could take her and beat some information out of her. Meri assumes that this assault will give the tattooed woman window enough to let her attention drift from her current assailant, checking in on Onora to see how her companion in this entire affair is holding up. By the looks of things, Onora was holding her own but Meri was still intent on aiding Onora. That dagger that was originally aimed for Meri's back? Well it is not cutting through the air toward the man's back, right around the same time that Onora was slashing at the man's pectoral muscle. It only takes Meri a matter of moments to direct the dagger toward the man. Those baby blues are not long away from the woman she is currently battling with.

"Hold!" Savia's voice cracked over them like thunder. It did not stop the woman battling Meri as she drew back the second dagger and saw too late the shaft of the polearm. She brought up her offhand to parry it, but the strength of the attack was too great. It broke through her defenses, and she moved too late. The blow clipped the side of her head, and though she rolled with the force of it she was obviously dazed as she regained her feet. Still, training held, and her daggers were up and her blurry eyes set to Meri and her weapons. Again, as Meri's eyes are diverted the woman uses the distraction to come in with a thrust at Meri's core. The strike was fast, as all strikes in combat must be; a second is a long time when adrenaline is flowing. "We seek travel through Thonmet's territory," Savia continued, her voice firm. The push dagger's thrust was slapped away last moment, so it scored his leather armor rather than punctured it, and the counter sweep up Onora's left thigh was arrested by the dagger puncturing an inch through his armor and into the muscle of his lower back. Onora had paused on the return, attention centered on the man but listening to Savia's words. "We don't intend you harm, so hold!" The man grunted, but stayed his attack, his expression tightening with pain and anger.

Meri looked back toward her original opponent just in time to catch the strike delivered to her core. Barely. Meri is quick to assume to be on the defensive, trying to deflect the blows. The double attack was predicted based on the woman's last assault. The first blow is not entirely blocked, time was not on Meri's side this time. The tattooed blonde depends on the strength of her bracer, swinging her arm out to sort of bat the strike to her core away at the last second but she is not successful. The dagger digs into her torso but the hit is not actually central nor is it lethal..but it hurt and it bleed. Meri's attempt to block the hit afforded her that much. The second strike she was more prepared for, despite the pain searing through her torso. The dagger that Meri has been gripping in her hand the entire battle finally comes into play, it's purpose to lock blades with the dagger that belongs to Meri's opponent, holding it at bay. Savia's words are heard. Meri halts her attack, pushing away from the woman she has been fighting and hoping the other woman will not be on the attack again.

The befuddled state of Meri's attacker meant that the first did not have so much strength behind it, and neither the second. Though the woman brought up the deflected blade to block Meri's own blow, her arm shook and she stumbled, slightly. She shook her head slightly, though her stare remained locked to Meri's body and what tells she might give. She wasn't letting up on her own pressure, however, her mouth set in a snarl of defiance. It took the man barking out a sharp, "Ivory!" before she gave one last push and stepped back. Had she not, it was likely she would have lost out in the manner of locked blades. "Where y'footin' to, then?" The man growled, his own eyes not leaving Onora. She grinned at him, blood finally starting to seep from the slice he'd left on her. The dagger in her right hand was held only loosely, the fingers near to nerveless with the force of his pommel strike. Savia answered, firmly, "To the south. We're following men who've taken something from us. Have you seen anyone pass through this way?" "No," the woman piped up this time. She was gingerly feeling around the blow dealt to her head, and had leaned up against the alley wall. The man nodded, and whistled. Another man came out of the darkness, a crossbow in hand. "Aseb 'ere'll see y'through, so as t'make sure there ain't no . . .funny business." He glanced towards Meri as he said it, frowning, and Savia said, "Agreed." Onora backed up from the man. "Meri, t'me."

Meri is rather displeased to see yet another figure step out of the shadows. Just another person who could have joined in on the fight. Meri lifts a brow when she is accused of being the funny business. Really now? Ah well. Meri did not see fit to argue the technicalities of who attacked who. She'd keep her mouth shut. No harm no fowl, right? When Onora summons her over, she wordlessly closes the gap between the two of them, sheathing her weapon as she moves. No sense risking giving them more reason to think she was up to no good and not merely defending herself.

The man and the woman turned so as to not get in the way of the three as they got closer together. "Could you've taken 'er?" Onora passed her head close to Meri as she asked the question, low enough that Thonmet's men wouldn't be able to hear her. "We need to move quickly," Savia said as she looked pointedly at the crossbow. "He'll keep up," the man said, clapping the crossbowman on the back. "Ready?" Savia tossed the question to her two protectors as she turned to continue forwards.

Meri 's ruby red lips curve up into a crooked grin that is sent toward Onora, a grin that is meant to wordlessly communicate her beliefs on the matter. Of course Meri thinks she could have taken the woman. Even if Meri's opponent had gotten her fair share of shots in, Meri is certain she could have bested her in the end. The fight had left the tattooed woman a little battered and a little cut up but this little daisy would force herself to continue on like it weren't no thang. When Savia presses onward, Meri does as well. The sooner this job was done, the sooner Meri could get cleaned up.

They moved through Thonmet's territory without another hitch, leaving the man with the crossbow behind once they passed through. Once he was gone, Savia slowed to a halt. She was showing signs of fatigue, as was Onora, though in the game of impressions neither was willing to stoop towards visible exhaustion. They'd been moving a long time by then, the dusk given way to night and the rise of the half-moon. "It stopped moving," Savia said. She was staring south, towards the last block of slums that stood before the shanty town of crude makeshift homes began. They stood beside an open gutter, a channel of filth that traveled out towards the ocean beyond them. It stank, but then so did the majority of this part of town. It was part of the scenery. Savia pressed her lips together in thought, and Onora didn't bother her. She looked instead to Meri, her own mouth open as she worked to slow her breathing. "Y'been t'this side o'Cenril, dove?"

Meri wondered how they would fare if they had to pass back through Thonmet's territory for a second time tonight. Would they even have to? She was not entirely sure where they were by now, things had gotten so twisted about in their rush to stay hot on the tracks of...whoever. Onora's question is met with an easy going shrug and a slow shake of her head. Meri had explored a lot of Cenril but she can't say she has been here, at least not that she can recall. "First time. Don't look like I was missin' out of much." It didn't smell like it either.

"Aw now, this'll be where all our patrons live. Never discount t'churls," Onora returned with a wink, though it lacked the energy she'd shown earlier that day. Savia started walking forward again, and Onora picked up her own pace. "Most nights," she said, though her attention turned from Meri and towards the surrounding area, "it's simpler. Talk wi'rich folk. Stay ready fer action. Swap glares wi'their guards. Last time summat like this 'appened was near 'alf a year ago." She gave a sidelong glance towards Meri. "But that don't mean it ain't dangerous real regular."

Meri cracks a dry smirk at the mention of the patrons. The smirk fades the longer that she listens to Onora. Not because Meri was concerned, mind you. "Dangerous ain't nothin' I can't handle," Meri stands firm. "But I reckon yer the judge of that, ultimately. So what do ya say so far, sugar?" When Savia advanced forward, so did Meri. She was not sure where Savia was leading them, but she would follow regardless. After the last incident, Meri was not keen on letting her guard down too much. Those baby blues are always roaming about the area, both ahead of her and behind her, not wanting to risk being taken by surprise with another assault. It was possible.

Onora nodded at Meri, and showed her a smile that curved up the left side of her lips. "I like what I see," she said, perching her right hand on the hilt of her blade. "That was some fancy trick y'did there."

Meri also let's her fingers wrap about the hilt of her own dagger. She realized it was probably a good idea now that they were no longer being followed by the man with the crossbow. Another smirk is cast toward Onora by Meri, "Well thanks, darlin'. Ya were doin' some nice arse kickin' yerself." Short. Sweet. To the point. Meri didn't try fishing for any further information on her performance, back to focusing on the job at hand.

They were almost past the last block of crumbling buildings. The moonlight revealed the tangled mass of the shantytown beyond, yet cloaked in a depth of shadows that made Onora wary. "Ain't got many magic users in Slaine's crew. Think she'll be right gaffed when I tell 'er 'bout you." The words were a source of calm for Onora, and she spoke them soft but steady as they progressed. Shanty town wasn't as bad as the slums, but. . ."Now, there ain't much in the way of slumlords out this way, but there's real desperate chulls live here. Keep sharp."

Meri shakes her head firmly from side to side when Onora labels her a magic user. "It ain't quite the same. What I do. It ain't quite fair to call it magic, from what I understand. S'all 'bout the mind." Meri lifts her free hand, the one that is not currently gripping the hilt of her dagger, so that she can tap her noggin. "But I ain't never been put through no formal trainin' on none of this crap. Just a few barroom conversations 'bout it." At the advice to keep ready, Meri just nodded. She was ready, more than ready. That ambush from earlier still had her on edge, still tense and ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

"Mebbe," Onora said, a distant thoughtfulness entering her voice, "we'll 'ave t'test yer limits, then. Blimmin' fancy trick, any case, though it looks as magic t'me." She shrugged. She was a simple woman who'd made her living in Cenril's underbelly longer than she could remember. She'd seen strange things and met stranger people still, and one thing she'd come to believe was that anything out of the ordinary could be conveniently shoved under the general term 'magic'. Why complicate things? Onora was all about keeping things simple; it was part of the reason why Slaine kept her so close. Onora would never be a threat. She simply didn't have the mind for any machinations or manuevering. What you saw was what you got. As the two woman quietly spoke, Savia had slowed some while they reached the edge of the buildings. Rather than continue into the shantytown, she made a sharp left, picking up pace once more.

Meri also made a sharp left when Savia does, taking longer strides at a quicker pace just to keep up. There was a slight limp as she walked, just testimony to her previous fight, but Meri pushed through it. What else was there to do? It was very much Meri's outlook on life to just suck it up and push on. "If ya wanna test my limits, go right 'head. I am game for the challenge." And she was, though she already had a fair idea of what happened when her limits were pushed. Meri didn't have enough care to really be a stickler about the classification of her abilities. It was what it was and it certainly looked like magic, she couldn't really argue that. It was the simplest way to describe her abilities anyway.

Onora had her mouth open to reply when Savia abruptly stopped and pivoted, going back the other way. Expression had leeched from Savia's face, leaving it bleached of color and meaning under the moon's light. Onora pivoted to turn and track Savia's progress, but she had stopped outside a blanket strung over a doorway. The content of Onora's words changed immediately. "In there?" She asked, as Savia looked between her two protectors. Savia nodded. "Onora take point. Meri, you're rear. Go." Onora drew her blade, adjusting the bracer with the push dagger she'd already used, ensuring the short, three-inch blade would be released correctly, without cutting herself. Likewise she checked the blade on the other arm, and moved up to the doorway. She used the tip to push aside the blanket, and then darted in with the silence of a hunting cat. Savia waited until Onora gave the clear, and then went in after. Inside, the building had a dirt floor with rugs covering it. There were no windows, and a doorway at the rear of the room. There was a small bell in the middle of the floor. It was a silvery color, and it caught the light that filtered in with the rise and fall of the blanket. Otherwise, there was a narrow bed made of straw and rough wool and not much else pushed against the wall to the left. A table with two rough stools stood opposite the doorway, and a curtained off section set to the far right. The curtain was open, revealing a dark tub of indetermineable material. A door stood at the rear of the room, against the right wall. It was poorly constructed, and looked to have been hacked at with some sort of weapon. Splinters littered the floor.

Meri came into the building last as instructed, boots hardly making a sound as she crosses the floor, trailing behind her team. Her dagger is drawn from it's sheath before she even enters the door, gripping the hilt so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white. It was the anticipation. Would they find something of note? Would this all be a wild goose chase? Or would they be sent on another trail to solve their mystery? The blonde actively worked to quiet the thoughts that are whirlwinding through her skull, trying to instead focus on the sounds of the building. The atmosphere. The setting. Everything is taken in just to keep Meri's mind off the what-if's and on the job. Thus far no one appeared to be in sight but Onora was the one in the lead and so the blonde would remain on guard until she was told to do otherwise. That's hot a unit functioned.

"Watch th'door," Onora said, nodding towards the blanket as she advanced towards the one in the rear. Thus stationed, she remained alert as Savia advanced, slowly, to that single lone bell. She crouched over it, her clothing audibly creaking in the dusty silence of that abandoned room. Her fingertips brushed it, causing it to tinkle so softly it might be missed in a breath. They were in near full dark within that room, and Onora waited in tense silence as Savia waited for her eyes to adjust. She picked up the bell, pressed it to her forehead, and whispered words in some bygone language. There was a sound of something snapping, like a string, and she put the bell back upon the floor. Rising, she stomped it flat. Whatever metal it was made of must have been either thin or malleable to give so easily to her soft-soled, muddy boots. Whatever the reason, she stooped once more to pick it up, but this time she pocketed it. "It's over," she said, her voice flat. "There is blood, and they have removed my means of tracking them." Onora looked from Savia to Meri, her own expression becoming muddied as she considered the situation. "Only got an hour or so, maybe two, afore we'll need t'return, if we're not finding nothin'. What says our newest, hey?" The words were directed towards Meri.

Meri lingered near the doorway while Onora and Savia set about. Meri does not let her attention remain on them. Even though everything is quiet and still, those baby blues are locked on the blanketed entrance, just in case. It would not suit Meri's taste for Onora to be able to say that they got jumped because she was too busy gawking and what the others were doing in the room. Savia's words are met with a frown, disapproving of what that meant. "I say...that freakin' sucks. Ain't got no leads to nothin'. Trail is just dead..." The blonde shifts about out of irritation. "There ain't nothin' here in this room that is no clue to nothin'? Might give us another shot?" Because she didn't really like the idea of returning empty handed and without the ability to say with certainty that the place has been looked over from top to bottom for information.

"Savia?" Onora heard Meri's words, and what's more, she agreed. She wasn't some tracker to save their butts though, but that was what Savia had come along for. The other woman stood in the middle of the room, staring down at the floor. "Stay quiet," she said, the words even and measured. Then, she closed her eyes. She stood still, like a statue, with no more than those two words for instruction. Onora had spent some time with Savia, and knew this to be part of her own ability, so she did as was bid. Her only movement was to look for Meri, her own eyes having adjusted to the near lightlessness, in some form of reassurance.

Meri remains quiet as ordered. Quiet she could do, especially if quiet actually got them further on this case they have been working on. By further, Meri's hope is anything but empty handed. Wishful thinking happens though. Meri held her post near the door while Savia worked. If anyone wanted to get in, they would have to go through her. Every so often, Meri would look away from the door and about the room, toward where Onora and Savia were. The room was so dark that Meri could not make out much in the way of details.

Savia shook her head, and Onora's eyes went back to the woman. "There are five waiting beyond this room, down a hall and in a larger room. None of them are speaking, all are breathing and seem to have normal pulse. No signs of stress as far as I could hear." Savia's expression remained some dire mix of neutrality and disdain. Though she flicked a glance Meri's way, she didn't show any outward sign of what she thought about spilling secrets in front of a stranger. "Weapons?" Onora asked. Savia raised a single eyebrow the way of Onora, the disdain winning out for a moment. Onora shrugged, and muttered, "Worth askin', don't get yer soddin' hackles up at me. Meri. What y'say 'bout five dolts, eh?" "They might have set traps," Savia said, grim, "if they did, I can't hear them. There's no guarantee we'll find our men this way, either."

Meri tilts her head to the left and then to the right, cracking her neck then rolling her shoulders to loosen up and prepare for another potential fight. Five guys. Five guys. How big were these guys? Why didn't Savia pick up on this before? None of these questions Meri would actually ask. Not the time. Not the place. Five guys down the hall. It's a wonder that they did not hear the ladies already. Maybe hoping they would just pass through? Meri didn't know. "No guarantee we'll find 'em this way but we ain't gonna find 'em by not tryin' to find 'em either. I'm down for five guys." She hoped. Especially if they were weaponless.

"It could be a trap," Savia said, frowning. "They left my bell here for me. It was a message. Do they want us to follow them?" Onora rolled her eyes in response, "An' what if it's just some rag set out hopin' you'd get skeeved so we leave?" "I can't hear anything that would indicate our charges are there," Savia said, her tone low and firm. "Don't mean they won't be able to tell us nothin'," Onora said, her own retort hot.

Meri starts looking a little impatient as the two woman debate back and forth. The blonde paces a bit, back and forth, in the blanketed doorway that she is standing guard in, red lips pursed together. "It could be a trap. And we can go in there expectin' that there might be a trap. Or we can be a bunch of pansy bitches and walk out the door. Frankly, I don't like the idea of bein' no bitch...So..." Those baby blues narrow on Onora and then Savia. She was firm in her opinion of what to do.

Onora smirked at Savia, and shrugged as if to say, 'see? no worries'. Savia shook her head slightly, and her jaw bunched once more. "I will offer assistance if I deem it necessary, but I can't guarantee that won't attract more attention. I won't be able to listen for any extra attackers once you engage. It'll be too loud." Onora shrugged again. "Meri, you're on point. Savia, keep rear; I'll keep an eye out. Blades drawn and eyes sharp, let's go." With that, Savia stepped to the side and Onora wrenched open the splintered, ruined door. The hallway beyond was a shabby thing. Constructed of old stone like the room they were presently in, the stretch of space was narrow and smelled of rats and dust. There was a blanketed doorway to the left midway down the hall, and another wooden doorway at the very end. This doorway was in better shape, suffering only from a mild case of dry rot. That, however, wouldn't be terribly obvious in the near absolute darkness of the hallway.

Rezza had his back against the doorjamb just opposite the group entering the building. Why in blue blazes was he here? The odd finger to collarbone where his pendant should be resting was enough for anyone who knew him to dish out as general idea. Four men lay unconscious around the room... And not a single one of them had had his fraggin' necklace. He reaches into a pocket inside his beat up leather coat and pulls free a cigarette, hoping that whoever else inhabits the building would sniff its delicious scent and come wandering his way. He was still itching for the fight, even to the point his knuckles were tingling. A strike of match lights that spice scented roll, and a quick inhale and release has its crimson smoke flowing out of his nose in a steady stream. Here... Here he would wait. He wanted that necklace back damnit.

Meri doesn't argue about being point, she was the one pushing the matter. Pushing the notion that they press on instead of turn around. So Meri moves down the hallway with her back pressed to the wall, dagger in hand. She moves quietly, and as quick as she can given that she can hardly see a thing. A strange scent drifts down the hallway she is creeping down. In the back of her mind, it registers are familiar. This nagging familiarity is ignored as she approaches the blanketed door midway down the hallway. The blonde would use her dagger to pull back the edge of the blanket and peer inside. If there was nothing of note in that room, she would travel down the dark hallway even further to approach the wooden door, cautiously attempting to open it.

The room in question had been quite obviously ransacked. The scent of blood might filter out, though it was old and sparse a smell; no bodies had been left there. However, not much would have been visible in the dim lighting, and there was no-one waiting inside that room. As to whether or not it would give them clues, only light and a more thorough inspection would have revealed that. In any case, Savia whispered, "Forward," just as Meri moved on. Onora waited, tense, giving meri three strides' worth of room just in case manuevering was required immediately upon the door's opening.

Rezza gave a moments pause, touching his fingertips to the door behind him and frowning. Vibrations registered through this old building well, and heartbeats of the anxious tended to reverberate in the rotting insulator that was the door. Someone was coming. He eases to the side of the door, rolling the fingers of his right hand into a fist until slightly audible cracks occurred. He wasn't aware of their listener, Only that the first thing throught that door was going to get lit the hell up. He tucks his back to the wall and lifts that fist, his lips curling into a malicious grin. He was gonna taste this ones fear once he knocked them out. Drain it from their body with that cursed left hand. And boy howdy was he hungry.

Meri eases open the door. There were no sounds as she opened the door, none that she heard at least. No scuffling or orders being barked when someone just intrudes into the room. Vaguely, Meri could see the shapes of something on the floor. Bodies? It was hard to make out exactly how many. Four? Five? Meri didn't know. She didn't know and since she didn't hear anything, had no sign of warning save maybe the cracking of knuckles, she advances into the room. The blonde woman takes a couple of steps through the doorway, looking to her left and then to her right. And that's about when she notices someone standing there, if she even had that long of a window to make this observation. IF she did have time enough to make that observation, instinct would take over and the hilt of her dagger would be jabbed straight at Rezza's gut. Hilt first because..well...if information was to be had...

There was silence, at first. Onora kept an ear open for Savia and their line of retreat as she advanced behind Meri. The shorter woman entered the room first, disappearing into the deeper gloom beyond. Onora moved in silent behind her, cresting the open doorway just as Meri engaged in combat.

Rezza had been here long enough that his eyes were just adjusted enough to make out a female form. That alone gave him pause. The fact that he couldn't smell her fear gave him more pauses. Pauses that put the hilt of a dagger in his gut. He coughs out, but uses the brief time to take hold of the hand at his abdomen and twist his fingers to wedge the dagger from her palm. It's flipped about in his hand even as his left snaps up to her neck and pushes her against the wall beside him. Dagger lifts to meet throat just before he catches her scent. Dear gods. He whispers, his voice coarse and changed on purpose, "What are ya doin' here, lass?" The other two are made quick note of, a grimace passing his face. He was outnumbered again, and short on hands due to having Meri against the wall. Fraggin' luck was always runnin' out at the wrong time. His only hope would be the lateral armed crossbow hooked to his lower back beneath his jacket... And that might just be a stretch tonight.

Meri grunts as she is pushes against the wall, those baby blues narrowing on Rezza's features right as he presses a dagger to her neck. The blonde goes a little wide-eyed at the situation she finds herself in. It took her a moment to recognize the man in the darkness, ultimately it was the scent of those 'cigarettes' that he smokes that finally gave it away. It finally dawns on her. They were quite unique. "Let me freakin' go," she grumbles to the man, "The hell are ya doin' here?" Onora and Savia are temporarily forgotten about. She didn't think to tell them to stand-down. It wouldn't be until they joined in on the fray that it cross Meri's mind.

Onora obliged. Her own eyes, already adjusted for the most part, picked out the two figures easily. The shapes were picked apart in the space of a breath, and then she was moving with the assurant step of someone who'd gone slum-side diving more than once. Without giving the man time for threats, she pivoted off the doorframe with her ballock extended: twelve inches of steel aimed up and under the exposed armpit. As that was rushing forward, she sprung the catch on her hidden push dagger, springing one into her left palm. The three inch blade protruded from between her middle and ring fingers. She punched it forward in an overhand cross, looking to startle him away from Meri before he might be inclined to do any permanent damage. Some, Savia might be able to fix. It was a game of chance, and that was one all those employed by Gluttony were prepared to play. Whether or not the ballock connected, Onora would be taking another step forward, centering her balance on her left leg and lifting her right to bring down hard against the outside of Rezza's knee. Without any interference, she'd be in and back out within two seconds, weight balanced between her feet with the left forward and more than ready to make another advance.

Rezza curses as first he's made, then the partner to the side springs into action. She was quick, he'd give her that. He pulled away from Meri just in the nick of time, though the blade aimed for his armpit managed to impale his forearm and connect with bone. Frags that smarts! But the man wasn't unused to pain. He pulls that arm away quickly, blood splattering to the floor from the wound. The stuff was as pitch as the darkness they were draped in, but none should notice. His left hand raises as she steps forward, seal glowing and curse rolling from his mouth as a kinetic wave shot forth in her direction. He didn't have many of those evasions left in him anymore, so that K wave was precious. Out of aggitation he grunts, and when he speaks his voice has returned to its normal backwoods way, "Fraggin' stop, kay? I ain't meant to hurt nobody." He presses his arm against his thigh, applying pressure in attempt to stop the bleeding, "Fragit all... I just wanted my necklace."

Meri is the one cursing beneath her breath now. The woman doesn't remain against the wall. She springs into action and places herself between Onora and Rezza the first opening she can. "No. No. No. I know the guy, okay? Just let 'em be." Rezza is left to tend to his own wounds as she tries to talk Onora down from her assault...or serve as a human shield if she could not.

Caught with her balance in motion, the blast took Onora away from Rezza and back in the direction of the door frame. She hit, and crumpled down. Though it had jolted her badly, she still managed to roll away from the perceived danger and with her feet under her. She didn't rise right away, and any attempt to do so was stilled by first Rezza's words, and then Meri's. She went still, glanced towards the doorway and then back towards the two. Her shoulder felt wrong, though with adrenaline still up and coursing it was hard to tell if it was a bruise or if something had gone funny when she'd hit the stone. What she said was, "Cold blimmin' trail, Savia. One o' yours, Meri? What's 'e bleedin' doin' here, then?"

Rezza pulled a roll of cloth from his pocket immediately after Meri jumped between them. He was ridiculously thankful for her, though the way she used herself as a human shield gave him another slight pause. The bind was quick and tight, and he listened while he worked. Standing, he places a hand on Meri's shoulder, unspoken apology passed as well as an assurance they'd talk about it later. To Onora and Savia he says, "One, they were bruisers. Street thugs with only half a brain. Don't know what you were after, but they sure as hell ain't had it. Two, sorry 'bout the blast. Ain't really had mucha choice. And as for the last bit? I'm lookin' for my fraggin' crown. Only one what matters, anyhow." During the short speil, he attempted to flex his hand. There was a tendon sliced beneath the skin and his middle finger was held at an odd angle because of it. He couldn't make a fist. That probably pissed him off as much as losing the fox pendant.

Meri kind of shifts about awkwardly as she is forced to define her relationship with Rezza. "I mean. One of mine? I ain't gonna make that claim for him. But I know him...." Meri fell silent now, letting Rezza do the rest of the explaining as to why he was there. The blonde clearly had not been expecting him to be at this building. A look is cast over her shoulder toward Rezza when he places his hand on her shoulder. They'd certainly have to talk about this later. Her gaze doesn't remain on him long, sights shifting back to Onora to see if she accepts this explanation. Meri sorely hoped that Onora did. And Savia for that matter.

Onora openly showed her displeasure, culminating in muttered curses as she tried and failed twice to get to her feet. The third time saw her rise, though she had to assist with her left hand to get the ballock sheathed; an awkward task considering the push dagger was still firmly in hand. That one wouldn't be going back into its special bracer harness, not until they got back. Awkward, but livable. What pissed her off more, however, was the knowledge that without a favor from Savia the Snake or some other voodoo magic worker, she'd be out of commission the next day. Already there was numbness spreading in a wide river up her forearm. A dual injury, caused by the man earlier and now a matching hit against the wall. She grunted at Rezza's apology and gave Meri a hard look. It turned towards Savia, who said quite simply and without any apparent disquiet, "We're done here. Best have Geri come to sniff out -- " "Geri's dead," Onora interrupted, voice suddenly loud in the confined space. "So we'll talk about it, right smart innit? Move. We're headin' along back." She split a hostile stare between Meri and Rezza, though what intensity might be seen in the dark was another matter entirely. "Back wi'us, or no? Either way, see it you blimmin' meet me in the mornin, love, and bring yer magical chum here wi'you." Savia had already turned from the doorway, heading back down the hallway.

Rezza lofts a brow, tucking his arm against his torso and moving around Meri's back, his hand trailing for the briefest moment before he heads to follow them out. Typically he wasn't one to do such, but for once, he thought it might be best to do what the quick one wished.

Meri could kind of sense the job has gone sour even if she could not pick up on the hostile stare. Meri purses her red lips together, leaving the call up to Onora. Rezza would unfortunately just be along for the ride this time. "Ya want us back tonight, we'll go tonight. Ya want us back in the mornin'...We'll be there." Basically she'd do whatever to not lose the shot at the job she has been trying to get because of this unexpected introduction. Since Rezza seemed willing to follow, she was too.

"I'll be meetin' wi'th'Boss tonight," Onora said as she took up post behind Savia once more. "Yer choice if y'wanna follow us back t'uptown or carve yer own way. If y'don't know th'lay o' slum territ'ry, best follow. I'll be front in th'mornin', an' Boss should be up fer signin' yer note or not." When they'd exited the building, Onora had Savia help her reach one of her more deeply placed collection of coins. Expression slightly amused, Savia counted out the amount Onora requested, and then put it back. Despite the disappointment, the woman seemed demure and unaffected; a ripe contradiction next to Onora's sour bearing. "Piss an' rot," Onora muttered, as she held out the coins to Meri. "Boss ain't gonna like hearin' we lost 'em."

Rezza had followed quietly, and would continue following. The exchange of coin was regarded with interest, as well as the exchange of words. His blood was seeping through the cloth and making small drips on the ground at his feet, and the man was beginning to feel woosy. Of all the witches he'd hunted, not a one was a healer. He couldn't drain the White Ones anyways. Went against charter. As his feet began to shuffle, he'd grimace, then lean against the wall as they had their small meeting. Moving afterwards would serve up a problem.

Meri wasn't about to say no to the offering of gold. The blonde takes what is hers with a vague smile. "Tomorrow then..." Her baby blues drift to Rezza and the way he leans against the wall. The woman frowns, Rezza now becoming her main concern since he did not seem to be faring well, "But I'm gonna take this guy to get looked at." Hospital. A healer. Something. "Ya guys go on. We'll be fine..."

Onora had grown up in the streets, and whatever had been on Savia's past, she weren't no nightengale neither. Life was tough slumside in Cenril, and kindnesses, or boons, were only ever offered once. If at all. So Meri's words were taken at face value by Onora, whose mind had turned towards the placation of a superior for whom a very important meeting had gone to charnel. Savia gave a nod to both Meri and Rezza, a small and cryptic smile hovering about her lips. "Tomorrow," Onora said in lieu of farewell, and started trudging in an eastern bent on that crude and indistinct line between city slums and the tent city that was never quite cleaned away. Savia followed, keeping pace with the longer legged woman as they headed for the least territorial edge of town. Neither looked back.

Rezza looks up as they leave, hiding the little grin that threatened through the pain. And it was getting worse. He was too weak now to even hold himself up against the wall, so he crumples. Everything was turning gray as he looked up at Meri, insex finger of his left hand crooking in a classic, 'Come here' fashion. "Need... Favor."

Meri didn't have time to dwell on or overanalyze Onora and Savia's departure. Rezza crumpling down against the wall he is leaning against commands her attention. A frown weighs at her lips. He was certainly worse off then she had thought he was and she felt quite the pang of guilt for it. At this request she crouches down in front of him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "Hey. What favor do ya need? Cause I'm thinkin' we gotta get ya oughta here. Ya need a doctor. Or a healer."