RP:S1, E5 Blue Skins
Summary: Larz is just getting off work when there is apparently more to be done and he helps Dyzz get out of a risky situation.
Gualon Grogshop
The locally famed rathskeller appears to have undergone recent renovations to bring it up to date with the city ordinances passed since its construction as one of the first buildings established in civilized New Gualon. The flautist no longer appears in employ and rumors as to his whereabouts run rampant. A hearty piano sits in his stead, built for durability over elegance. Roomy booths line the perimeter of the room for when the crowded bar is too raucous for more reserved patrons or those that desire a more clandestine rendezvous. The floor has recently been stained a deep walnut color, perhaps to counter the mild corrosive effects of fungus beer spilled one too many times. Grargh, the ever faithful barkeep of yesteryear and the years before that, presides over the bar proper, now fashioned in a large horseshoe shape, and made from the imported lumber that suggests a thriving commerce trade with other ports of call throughout the countryside. Indeed, much of the Grogshop's offerings reflect the international flavor of the bar itself. The beer selection includes Larketian to Venturillian brews, while liquor is imported from sources throughout the lands, so that only the finest are used in each cocktail concoction. The Grogshop pays homage to its roots and namesake in its famous grog the choice of many orcish inhabitants and only the heartiest humans with the strongest of constitutions.
Dyzz enjoyed fungus beer. It was tart, and could melt the lining of a lesser specimen's stomach if they indulged carelessly enough. For Dyzz, of course, that was simply impossible. She was born to be a glutton, and had won her reward this day by way of a contest of strength. It took more than tales to scare an orc out of an arm wrestling match, especially when you were almost half a foot shy of four feet tall, and a scrawny female besides. He was a bookkeeper, and had a bad habit of feeling inferior due to his intellectual occupation. Smarts weren't all that valued among orc society... and Dyzz had what he didn't, much to his dismay. Raw, stupid muscle. She'd emptied a vat that could hold a baby elephant comfortably, and swaggered her way out, while the orc howled at the career suicide he'd just committed. "See ya later, Ogee. Make sure's ya *hic* muscle up for ness time, eh?" She giggled not at all drunkenly, and swaggered sideways into a wagon, toppling it and its full load of cabbages onto the street. "What the... what just happened?! Who did that?" Dyzz floundered beside the wagon, seemingly too small to have been the culprit, and the owner of the wagon looked about furiously. "You there, tiny creature! What tipped my cart?!" She looked up at him, with one lid half closed as realization began to dawn on him. Uh oh... looks like a drunky troblin was about to get in trouble!
Largakh was ending his patrolling shift by grabbing a drink at the grog shop, he was a bit wiry compared to the other orcs and short being only six seven in height. His job as a city guard was probably only granted because he can think and deduce better than the other orcs. His face is pleasant enough, looking more like a human in that aspect. A slow steady stride brings him to the cabbage part scene and Tuscan yellow eyes watch the pair carefully. Just because his shift ends doesn't mean he won't jump in if he needed to. Arms cross over his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.
Dyzz stumbled to her feet, and waved her arms, "Didnae see none *hic* sirs! Musta been the wind. Yeah, the wind, thassit!" Brilliant. He'll definitely buy that. Dyzz was hoisted off the ground, a hand under each shoulder, like a child. The man looked at her, face to face. "I'll be damned. You see that mule that mule over there? She's already got a bad hip. You probably just ruined 'er last remaining years, and that means, I need a new mule, NOW." Dyzz looked over at the mule, shuffling on its feet, and looking bewildered. Apparently, its wagon hadn't tipped often in its lifetime. "Well, mister, if ya dun need that one, Dyzz can eat it, maybe?" She smiled, hopeful, her adorablest tusky smile. Unfortunately, she also drooled on herself a little. She was pretty hammered. The man narrowed his eyes, and put her down. "Upright my cart." He looked at her expectantly. Dyzz shrugged, and with all the common sense of a drunken goblin, effortlessly uprighted his cart, with one hand. The man swore, shaking his head. "Screw the cabbages. I can think of a better way to make money. He hoisted her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and tossed her in the back of the cart, climbing in and pulling out a rope. Dyzz just seemed confused. "Where we goin'?"
Largakh scowled when the man picked the creature up like a child. He still had his jacket on that had the crest of the Gualortan Tribe over the chest pocket, which was like flashing a badge around here. Largakh has dealt with this certain merchant before and his get rich quick schemes to fool the local dumb orcs. He pushed off the wall and stepped into the light, yellow eyes penetrating the man suspiciously, “Orville… Evening.” The half orc spoke slowly because they expect him to be dumb so he lets people believe it for now… The merchant instantly seems sweaty and nervous, “Larz! Hey…” his shifty eyes bounce from Dyzz to Larz, “I was just about to bring this vagrant to your custody I swear.” He motions to Dyzz and Larz’s expression looks disappointed and unimpressed like he doesn’t believe him, “you go. Or you stay.” At the last word he nodded toward the direction of the jails and this was enough to get the merchant kicked into high hell and get out of there! Luckily Larz was helping Dyzz out of the wagon just as it sped away. “You okay?”
Dyzz was still loopy. Much of the details of Larz and Orville's conversation went right over her head, but she wasn't tied up, which was a plus! Larz helped her out of the wagon, and received the same heavy lidded oggling that the merchant had... at first. He struck a much more favorable impression than the man though, and she grinned. "You're way *hic* handsomer than him!" He wasn't even there to defend himself, the poor soft skin. She giggled, and nearly lost her balance, managing to stay upright more by luck than any actual sense of balance. "Dyzz mighta drinked too much, even for Dyzz. Maybe." She looked around, as though somewhat lost. "Say, why you think Gualon issin a swamp, eh? Seems weird place taput hole city. Gots good lookin' fella's like you, though, so Dyzz can't complain." She smiled. "Whatcha doin' out here all bys you's lonesomes anyway? A girl might be minded to snatch ya up."
Largakh watched the troblin with amusement, a half crooked grin on his lips. Jaw tense from hiding his underbite, “you sure? He’s got some likeable qualities,” trying to deflect since he doesn’t do well with compliments. “Yeah? Maybe we get Dyzz some water?” He helped lead her back into the Grog Shop and a lot of the orcs hollered a greeting to Larz. “Some of Gualon is swampy,” he kept his sentences short, being a man of few words and to keep up the cover of ‘dumb orc’. When he got her to the bar he helped her onto a stool and ordered her water, but when she mentioned of a girl snatching him up he let out a start to a chuckle, “oh? Nah… Not any girl type.” Meaning he’s perpetually single, but that is mostly because he’s not really into orc women and any other woman would rather not be seen with the likes of him - he’s an outcast.
Dyzz scoffed. "Not any girl type? Dyzz don't believe that for a second." She sipped on the water that was handed to her, and blinked in confusion. "Oh, you meant water. That kinda water." She sighed. She must be even drunker than she thought, and she didn't think much. Ever. "Well, Dyzz can believe it, really." She looked around at all the other orcs. "Bein' half hooman and all. Dyzz ain't even all gobbo. Issa half troll. Uh, and faerie. Sorta. Is long story." Half a lifetime ago, when she'd first emerged from Kregus, long. She didn't seem to mind that he was half human... and also didn't seem to know when to keep her mouth shut about it. Also, she didn't take into account that she could be wrong. He could be half elf... but she could chalk that up to drunkenness. "But Dyzz think you's good lookin'. An you seem nice. So, there." She continued drinking her water, sobering up at an astonishing rate.
Largakh scratches his head and starts drinking his ale then sort of grimaces as it goes down. He grew up on elven drinks, but this will do. “Half human, huh…” He was hoping she would go on talking about it because he’s not good with talking about himself. “Hm, and troll and faerie… Wow,” that crooked half grin again - someone might think he was being sarcastic, but that just his harsh orc voice. “Thank Dyzz,” is all he offered to her comments on his looks and to her mention of him being nice - he sort of was, but this is his city to protect, “city guard, doing job.” A long slender finger taps the crest on the chest pocket to his soft leather jacket. Technically they kept him on for investigative work and he’s the only one with the leather jacket. “Where Dyzz go?” Meaning where was she going to sleep off her drink in the dead of night like this because he knew that merchant will be back, “keep away from Orville.”
Dyzz thought about it. "Dyzz like to travel. Will go back to ship, though. Cenril docks." To sleep? That was quite a journey for a rest. He might have a harsh orc voice, but Dyzz heard more behind that gravelly veneer. She bumped his arm with her shoulder. "Dyzz think you smarter than you speak. Way you look. Like you's careful. Not just like grow up half orc, but like learned how to fit in. Dyzz know what that like. Make Dyzz wonder though, what you like when not try just fit in. Plus, you's green and blue. Dyzz really like that. Dyzz only blue goblin, until went to that one jungle... them some mad juju gobbos." She giggled at the memory. Oh, the memories. She tugged at a strap on her skull bra, hefting her chest back into place, or so it seemed. The straps were worn, and needed to be replaced. Tended to happen when one thought it'd be quicker to go through an ocean rather than find a boat for passage. "So, you's guard, yeah? Dyzz love to see how work go for guard. Dyzz is a pirate. Sorta. Oh, not s'posed to tell guard that, huh? Ah, well. Not like Gualon worry about pirates. Can't sail a boat into a swamp."
Largakh puts some of his gold down and slides it to the barkeep, then he hands the half orc a key. “Dyzz travels all over?” He listens to the halfling talk and drinks his beer while she also drinks her water. “Dyzz feeling better?” When she does the thing with her straps, he’s alarmed, but not for himself. He noticed a group of orcs and the like ogling Dyzz, but she doesn’t seem to understand exactly what was happening and he wasn’t sure she even meant to give that sort of vibe off. He slipped off his jacket which revealed he was wearing a simple cotton short sleeved shirt underneath, of which revealed more of his skin condition where his dark green skin is dappled in random spots of blue. After placing his jacket around the small Dyzz which she seemed to swim in it, he was now the one getting stared at. “Late for Larz,” he points to a hall lined with doors, “a room for Dyzz.” He gives her the key, secures it in the jacket pocket for safe keeping, “Dyzz sleep and locks the door… Larz will get jacket from barkeep tomorrow.” With that he hollers a goodbye at his fellow orc kin and slips out so he may go to his simple studio apartment and sleep in his own sofa bed.
Dyzz wasn't sure why, but he put his jacket on her, and looked where he pointed. A room? For Dyzz? No one bought Dyzz a room! She blinked at him. He was going somewhere else? She scratched her head as he left, baffled. Oh, well. It looked like that attractive blue was elsewhere besides just his face, which made her curious. She shuffled off of the barstool and headed for the room, laughing and waving at some orc that catcalled towards her. It didn't seem like she minded the attentions of a bunch of randy orcs. She didn't really know what to do with herself when she went to the room, but she took a whiff of the jacket... it smelled like Largakh, which was pretty nice. She climbed into the bed, cuddled up with his jacket, and started snoring peacefully