RP:Rhocielle Trades for the Onyx

Part of the Merfolk Tale Arc

Summary: A random encounter between Finn and Rhocielle while the runner is hiding out in Cenril, leads to the blowing of Finn’s cover. For reasons of his own, the lycan chooses not to betray the runner to the authorities of Larket. The ring of superbia is offered in trade to the wolf in exchange for an item more valuable to the smuggler, now that he is on the run.

Characters: Finn, Rhocielle.

Location: Cenril: The Whaler Bar.

The man who slipped through the still open doorway of the Whaler in timed entrance with the exit of another, would not be recognizable to any by sight alone as the runner known as Red. Ebon locks lay in a face shielding freefall along the side of high cheek bones and jaw, kissing his shoulders in a manner completely contrary to the controlled and ribbon bound auburn tail that was the smuggler’s trade mark. Neither was the altogether crow like appearance of the male, black on black from head to booted toe, a look remotely reminiscent of the description that had been offered the world at large for bounty. Bounty. It was that very matter that had brought the man who would come to be known as Gabe, to the taproom of a place guaranteed to be current on the affairs of the mainland. He had returned to the hunting lodge in Chartsend with the setting of the sun, and had stood grim faced before the evidence that Mahri had been taken again, and by force. Immediately the primary implications came to mind. His location was likely compromised-even if the wolf gave them nothing, common sense determined that he would likely not have been far from his ‘accomplice.’ The Larket officials would return, or if not, send others to do their dirty work. He would be out of Venturil before nightfall. The second implication was his need of accurate information; where Mahri had been taken, if she was even still alive and what, if any was the status of the search for his person as an accomplice. It was highly unlikely that any second attempt at a rescue of the female would be successful-not without the exertion of the kind of man power that would make it almost entirely impossible for him to ever work under the radar again. It had been a cold moment, realizing that he had purposed to leave the woman to her fate. She was his lover..but he had had many lovers. They came and went and he could ill afford to have his entire enterprise fall to ruin for her sake. If opportunity provided itself to act without causing losses to his interests he would do so. If not... Finn returned to the present. A dark shadow standing before the grimy message boards of the taproom, gold flecked gaze skimmed the surface with hard eyes, searching for any news that would give him some sense of where to begin. “Dammit Rider..helluva mess you’ve stirred up..” he muttered beneath his breath.

Rhocielle had heard the rumors of the female Lycan being taken captive. The boards in Kelay said as much, as well as a notice for a bounty on her companion's head. Companion. That could only be the man he vaguely knew by name as Red. He shook his head to himself as he hitched the reins of his horse at the post of the Whaler's Bar. At least he knew where to find Mahri in order to question her further about Heltri's latest escapades. Pushing the door aside to enter the bar, his thoughts were currently on something to drink. By no means a fan of ale and the like, it nevertheless offered him a quiet moment to bring his thoughts back together. He needed to revamp the defenses of the compound, something new that the black dragon would not anticipate when next they would clash. As he waited for a mug of ale to be fetched for him, the armored wolf moved to bulletin board. All at once his sense of smell was overwhelmed by his proximity to the Runner. A pungent aroma that came from mediocre hair dying agents, the scent of a wolfen bitch, and the scent of the man himself. His grey eyes narrowed faintly and he discreetly moved his paw forward to tap at the advert regarding a certain sheriff and his quarry. In a low husky whisper, he commented, "...shouldn't you have underlings risking themselves to read the latest news for you...?"

Finn’s shoulders tensed slightly beneath the dark material of his duster, and the fingers that were curled into the pockets of his pants as he perused the boards twitched instinctively, desirous of the security of the hilt of dagger in hand. Dammed beasts. He had forgotten about the wolf that hunted Mahri..and that he had found her, at his shop no less, by scent alone. Was he here now for her? Or perhaps, for him.. The notice of bounty for information seemed in that moment to be a blazing sign, calling attention to itself in the midst of notes and advertisements. Was it even worth an attempt at denial? Perhaps. The runner turned a dark haired head towards the looming bulk of the armored wolf. “Since when does a man need underlings to read what’s goin’ on in the world?” he asked with feigned insolence , no trace of his familiar accent or drawl present. Instead, the rougher, harsher tones of the less empowered spilled from his lips. He became as one of those in his own employ. “Like to hear news from the horse’s mouth myself..” he added, digging his hands deeper into pockets for added effect.

Rhocielle played along with the dark haired Finn's act. He was not here to cause a scene in any case. However, every word that came afterward was specifically chosen to alert the human that he was not fooling anyone. "Oh, straight from the horse's mouth, is it? Perhaps I should play the part of the honorable escort and bring to hear the news straight from the sheriff himself...," he said in a husky whisper, his eyes still straight ahead upon the notice. "I heard they already have her in Larket, but that is all that is being said about it...," he added on as if continuing a casual conversation with another hunter of rumours, "And considering that it is believed that she was the murderer to begin with, then by all means her accomplice should be brought in to face justice as well..." He acted his role well. Whether he believed that Mahri was guilty or not, it was irrelevant. The point was that the armored wolf spoke with a voice of conviction and assurance.

Finn’s whisky gaze narrowed slightly on the notice that burned a hole into his retinas, even as his mind raced through options. Mahri was in Larket. It was as much as he’d expected, and thus he would be staying as far away from that city as he could bring himself to be. If the blood at the hunting lodge was anything to go by, she had not gone easily..nor would the woman give up easily that which she knew..or confess without considerable ..persuasion. The muscles in his jaw tensed with the empathy of one shadowed soul for another. He had not gone his entire criminal life without feeling chains..or the pressure to give what could only be torn out..and he had little interest in or intent to return to that place. And still, he would give the wolf nothing concrete..Never volunteer that which had not yet been proven. “ Don’t figure I need to see the sheriff to hear im same the same damned thing as is posted do I?” he growled. “And how in hell do you reckon that her accomplice helped killed a body without proof anyway? The Larket law seems the sort to punish first and ask questions later. Pity that..for the lass..” and still he would not turn to face the lycan. His eyes, having been seen once at close range, would be a dead giveaway.

Rhocielle nodded idly, his posture rather relaxed from the view of anyone that might have been watching the pair. "I do not 'reckon' anything, but if you wished to know the sheriff's theory, all the more reason to pay the good people of Larket a visit, if only for a spell. Do you 'reckon' that?" He gave no mention that he was in agreement over the city's tendency to punish, even kill first, without actual proof. "Aye... pity for her," he remarked with furrowed brows before turning to face the runner with a rather steely gaze, "...and you."

Finn’s jaw clenched tighter. It would be pointless, and in some measure perhaps, insulting of both their intelligences to continue the pretense. His cover was blown..and that, in all likelihood meant a trip to Larket unless he could wrangle his way out of this bar a free man and hit the road again, going even more deeply to ground. Nothing was revealed in the bland, dusky features of the runner, but some intangible shift in the energy coming off of the now dark male signaled the dropping of his mask and the facing of the armored wolf on at least a semi honest footing. Head turned to allow that gold flecked gaze to come to rest on the silvery orbs that were set deep in jet furred muzzle. When he spoke, it would be with the tones recognizably those of the red headed smuggler. “Guess that nose of yours is good for more than sniffin’ out bitches in heat then..” he said idly, lazy inflection belying the crass dismissiveness of his reference to the Mahri and the position in which the lycan warder had last seen him. He fixed his gaze on the male, his words harsh and frank in their openness. “Look mate, I’ve done my share of questionable things in this life, but -this- murder..isn’t one of em. An I don’t reckon on getting’ strung up fpr somethin’ I didn’t do.” A swift assessing glance was skimmed over the wolfen male. The crested armor that he wore, and the bandoliers, filled to the gills no doubt with toys designed to aid the wolf in hunting his varied prey. “You seem the sort that could use the sort of specialty items I could get a hold of. What would it take for you to forget that you ever saw me here..and that I look like this?” he asked bluntly. “ I figure it’s not your fight aye? You fly the red elf’s banner..not Larket’s. If it’s the bounty you’d be after..I can get you something better..” the words would spill into the silence between them, as the runner awaited the lycan’s reply.

Rhocielle snorted a bit firmly, his voice sharper, "Stow it, Red. While I serve the Light, there are a great many things that I don't approve of. More often than not, its some established ruler and their so called rules of conduct. I saw it in the Empire when I was younger. I see glimpses of it in Larket after hearing a suspect got killed just for looking at the queen the wrong way..." Furrowing his brows, he continued on towards the path of conversation they were now beginning, "As you said, I doubt that you had anything to do with the murder in Larket. You're port-side scum, put bluntly. You would have nothing to gain from killing a baker's daughter. The way things are going, Larket would give a damn if you were just passing by, or shoved that vine down her throat or not. Your head will likely be on a pike if they so much as snatch you for some 'friendly' questioning..." Shaking his head, he glanced towards the door, "That would make me guilty of your own murder... So do not worry about my seeing you or remembering what you look like. I can, however, offer you something that'll make me forget what you 'smell' like. They say they sniffed her out with dogs..., this should help, in return for your so called specialty item, if it'll give you some piece of mind that I won't reveal your location or appearance..."

Finn’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully on the great wolfen male. In some distorted way, his logic made sense. Finn had been wondering how it would be possible for any who represented order -not- to do the ‘right’ thing in handing him over to the authorities. It would seem the answer to that lay in that person of order trusting less in the justice of said authorities to –do- the right thing. Handing him over to Larket would likely mean torture, or worse. He was not certain himself that he would ever see Mahri alive again. And yet, the wolf had not walked away upon the offering of his promise. Finn’s lips twitched slightly as he settled in to negotiate now that the immediate threat of his capture was gone, though mention of Mahri’s own capture caused the stilling of the same. “Dogs... I had wondered how they’d tracked her. She’s usually so careful..” he muttered. Some pang for what the lycan was likely enduring tugged at his conscience..before he hardened himself to the emotion. Survival would necessitate thinking with his head..and not his heart. Scent was how this wolf had tracked him..it had only been luck that dictated that it was not some other. Calloused fingers reached out to take the warder’s offering- he recognized the item, though he had not thought before now to use it. Scent altering perfume..another layer of disguise. And he would feel more secure with at least the illusion that he had bought the wolf’s silence. “Fair enough..” he murmured, reaching up onto his shoulder to remove the dark satchel that was carried there. Moments later, a small velvet pouch was retrieved, and the contents poured into his palm. The number was dwindling now..two rings, and an anklet, only one of which was not somehow spoken for, pending further meet. An onyx-how fitting. The shimmering finish of the jet black stone bespoke authority..power..a certain haughty arrogance that he found oddly extant in the armor clad wolf. The stone, set in its ring was held out to the warder. “Not just any ring…” he murmured huskily. “It is said that he who wears it..will wield to power to drive the object of his attention to irrational arrogance..to the pride, that might come before a fall,” he added, dropping it into extended paw like hand. He would speak nothing of its potential taint, not knowing of this detail. Whether or not the wolf would fall prey to its power, would ironically be dependant on just how much he might be inclined to try to use it on another.

Rhocielle took the ring without questioning. The wolf had not been out to take a bribe, having internally decided that he was doing the right thing by helping a hapless smuggler from being executed over the prison break of a then suspect. It was not to say that he ignored the apparent use of the ring, he simply had no need for it at the moment. The exotic ring was placed precariously into one of the many pouches along his bandoliers. Grunting in acceptance to the man for the trade, the black wolf took his leave of the bar, leaving the human to whatever fate Finn would create for himself with his new gift.