RP:The Fermin's Comission

From HollowWiki

Part of the Tales from the Row Arc



Synopsis: Pressed by circumstances to leave the Shores for a while, Finn meets up with Chatnu to verify the details needed to complete the run needed to retrieve her commission and sets sail for Chartsend the following morning.

Characters: Finn, Chatnu, Ruana, Hanan, Fibs, (Npc Mage), Mahri

Location: Rynvale Harbor




Finn was the shadow that loomed in the corner of the berthing dock, the oddly shaped lumps over his shoulder betraying the presence of his travel bag into which the essentials of the tools of his trade were packed. And well clothes of course. The occasional glance was offered up to the side of the ship which loomed large, and for the most part silent in the darkness. The shimmer of lantern light through once of the portholes in the lower deck most often drew the lingering gaze. Terra, settling in for the night in their small cabin, he’d insisted that she stay inside. The cold was almost biting, and made him, for a moment, crave the warming heat of the cigarette smoke he’d given up years ago. He settled for hunching his shoulders and digging fingers deeper into his pockets. He sure as hell hoped Squeak had gotten his message, and that she would be here on time. He was leavin’ in the morning, with or without the details of commission. His business in Chartsend was pressing.

Chatnu was in conversation with another fermin as she waited for the man known as Red to arrive. It had been a few days since their last talk, but a welcome rest for her none the less. Even so, her burning longing for the object had started to grow over this time and had made her a bit short tempered. "I don't care if the guards are more alert from resent killings in their ranks. Are you fermin or not? Just find a way to do what I told you." The other fermin, a male by his voice, bowed a bit then turned and scampered along a docking rope up to the ship it was connected to. She would check in with Blingu later to go over the things he was able to pilfer from the ships at dock. Hopefully undetected. Farther down the dock she made her way, instinctively staying to the shadows. Her nose twitches as the scent of Red reaches her and the female fermin follows it until the man is reached. "You sent word wanting to talk? I hope this is a more secure place to discuss our business." There was a bit of a bite in her last sentence, but otherwise her words where spoken pleasantly enough.

Ruana is lead there by Hanan. It had been abrupt, really, and she still shows the signs of the shock of it all. Indeed, she looks lost - which, really, she still tends to be outside of the tavern - though the sight of the man she had been talking to earlier in the alehouse does bring something akin to...relief, maybe? At least it's a face she recognizes besides the Captain's. But there's other...things there. Rat people. That has the woman's eyes popping open, and her body instinctively recoiling. Big rat is big. Even if it does walk on two legs instead of four. She has her bloodied clothing in her arms, though what isn't seen is a sack hidden in their folds. Really, even if it does get seen, it's a small thing and can possibly be assumed for nothing more than a sack of hygienic goods.

Hanan was utterly and completely on edge as she followed Ruana to the docks, her crossbow in her hands, rapier loose in its scabbard, shoulders tense as they'd ever been. "Ruttin'... bastards. Red." The first had been a mutter, the second a call, she raising her arm to wave briefly. "I don't know what the hell's goin' on... but I'll figure out how to stop it." She'd heard about the fireball in Red's parlor...she'd have to talk to Ruana about that, wouldn't she? Her hand found the small of Ruana's back at that recoil, she smirking slightly. "Relax. They're good." Well, she didn't know if they were trustworthy, per se, but she knew Red was working for them. Guy had a good enough head on his shoulders to check folks out, right? Right. "Get your things aboard, Il'Anad. I'll show you where you're sleepin' once we shove off."

Finn had kept his eyes fixed to the docks, and had positioned himself so that approach from any direction could be detected. Chatnu’s emergence from the shadows however, had still had the power to startle him, his eyes had been on a level to anticipate humanoid arrival. She had crept in, as it were, under the radar. Eyes narrowed slightly at the undertone. He was the one doing her a favor right? “Private enough..reckon nothing said here will get much further..though I reckon the captain wouldn’t mind lendinus her quarters for a bit more privacy, if you need it..” He own tone was cool, wiped clean of any indicator of his current emotional state or thought process. Business was business. The arrival of the pair down the dockside was far easier to ascertain, especially with the captain tramping fit to wake the dead. “I’m sure you will captain..” he drawled, eyes flickering over the cat’s guest. Seems the question had been answered in the affirmative. “Might be needin’ your quarters for some business..”

Chatnu 's head snaps around and though her eyes saw very little, her ears had picked up more foot falls upon wood heading their way. A clicking grinding sounds her anger at the intrusion, but hold back a spitting hiss. A glare is offered to the man before shouting a retort at the woman, "Better watch who your eyeing there woman or you might find a knife in each." The only reply to the vampires words was a snort. Surely the woman wasn't as stupid as she looked. Well maybe, though her killers mind sent a note of caution all the same. Vampires where a tricky lot. Turning back to Red, but keeping some attention on the other two. Chatnu pauses for a moment to mull over his offer, but declined it in the end since she knew all to well that nothing stayed secret when said on a ship. "No... here is fine." One ear twitches slightly. She had noticed the tone of his voice, but let it go. "So what more do you need to know? I already told a vampire going by Rue has it right now and where to find it." The fermin knew he would most likely need more intelligence, but if he wanted specifics he would need to be a bit more precise in his questions.

Ruana lets her eyes widen at the threat given by the rat-woman, though in her mind there's nothing short of seething fury. That's twice in as many days that she's been threatened. It's only for the sake of Hanan that she doesn't explode right then and there - literally, as Finn might know - and so she just nods and gets herself and her stuff onto the ship. She doesn't stray far from the railing, however, keeping her gaze always near Hanan even as she tries to take in the sights. She'll act the ignorant tourist for now, and truth be told some of it is truly how she is. But as Hanan learned when the drunk was mugged, she's not quite as innocent as she might look.

Hanan nods. "Go ahead, s'unlocked." She didn't worry about that sort of thing when Harry was keeping an eye on it--and there was the burly, pot-bellied first mate, waving at her. She trusted Red, too. Gods know why. "Just don't tell Terra about my unmade bed, right?" For her part, Chatnu got a sudden, harsh glare. "Watch your mouth... this one's a part of my crew, hear me?" Well, Ruana was, technically. For this hop. "Anyone who threatens my crew isn't allowed aboard. And I suppose you'd rather be talkin' to Red here behind a door, right? Come on, Il'Anad." Last name. Sounded more official that way. Hanan paced up the gangplank, casting her a close approximation to a roguish grin. She was too tense for it to catch her eyes. "Stop causin' trouble, Siren. I'll show you the galley." She opened the hatch and headed down there immediately. It was safer, wasn't it?

Ruana has to smile, despite the threat, despite the fury that had been raging in her head. Hanan had stuck up for her. And then there's that nickname she's been labelled with, and it just has the smile turning to a smirk what with the words accompanying it. "Apparently I'm not so good at that, 'Hellcat'." Yeah, she called her Hellcat. Mostly just to let on that she knows of the nickname now. The galley, she says. Ruana really has no clue about much to do with ships, and so she just follows Hanan and acts like she does. Might not be a good idea, but there you have it.


Finn’s focus was now completely locked onto the fermin. Business was business, but nobody talked to his crew, or any under their protection like that. “Lets just get one thing clear between me and you Squeak, you want the job done right..you need me..which means you need them..” burnished head nudged toward the disappearing pair. “You threaten my people, you lose me. Understood?” his voice was icy. As it were, it was likely only his presence that might encourage restraint on the part of the Hellcat..and he’d already seen how sensitive to threats Ruana was. It was only when Hanan had said her piece and quiet had settled on the dock again that he attended the rat once more. “Aye..and I’ll be needing the specifics. Where does this Rue live, is he wearin’ it, or keepin’ it stored? What kind of security an I lookin’ at here? Will I need an expert locksmith, a mage? Is this vampire one of greater than average power?” The fermin may think that she had supplied the runner with intelligence to find the object, but the less questions he actually had to ask once he arrived in Venturil, the lower his profile would be.

Chatnu held back her biting reply to the vampire only because she may need her services sometime in the future. As for the warning she received from Red it caused an unpleasant taste in her mouth. It was going against her very nature to hold back and listen to the man, but she said nothing more and decided that their talk of business should take priority... for now. "The week I was there he was staying at an inn called The Fallen Star. From the sounds of it he has been staying there for a while and he likes to wander at night. Never too far from the town, but likes to prey on travelers and drunks on the outskirts as they head back to Chartsend. Not sure about his power. If you are familiar with vampires you know that some of the most dangerous are those who only show their true strength only when necessary. Unfortunately, there was an incident and he started to get suspicious of me. My guess is they don't get many of my kind there. In the end I had to leave or risk frightening him off somewhere else. As for the locket? He wears it around his neck, even when he sleeps, and likes to toy with it though."

Finn’s brow furrowed in concentration as the fermin’s details unfolded, keen mind already identifying the benefit and challenges of the scenario presented. “We can use the fact that he’s on the move at night..and lookin’ for victims. He’ll not be expectin’ an encounter with one of his own..” as much as he hated the idea of it, Terra would have to be bait. She had just the luck to lure in a predator, and the vampiric strength to fight him off if need be. “I’ll need to figure on a way to get it off him..maybe swap it out for a duplicate durin’ the struggle..we have options.” Until he got the Venturil he’d not know really, the least complicated approach to take. It might be as simple a job as a bait and switch at an afternoon tea party at the inn. Endangering the elf would be his last resort. “Anythin’ else I need to know about the locket. No strange side effects of havin’ it on us aye? Might be up north for a few days even after we get it.”

Chatnu gives the man a one sided grin as he lays out various scenarios. A few days delay kind of irked her but if what Blingu had told her was true, and it almost always was, then he had good reasons. "Sounds alright. He seemed the shady type so tread carefully with him. As for the locket would suggest only a mage carry it. Otherwise it could have ill effects to the carrier." Just then the same fermin as before approaches but stays back a ways, perhaps waiting for acknowledgement, even as a dozen other of her kind crawl off various ships around with full packs on their back. They however don’t stick around, but keep to the shadows and head into the city proper.

“Shyte..” It was a soft muted curse. “D’you how hard it is to find a mage in the row? Bloody magic takes schoolin’ and gold, lest you’re born with it. And that sort usually doesn’t end up in this life.” There was always the hawk, but Gideon had gone to ground the moment they’d returned from Selen, and not been seen since. The runner held small hope that the mage would surface to uphold his end of their agreement. “Recover fee will go up, if I have to pay a mage to tag along..” he murmured. And where the hell was he to find a mage in the wee hours of the night? Because he -was- sailing come morning.

Chatnu really wanted to let out the snicker that was tickling her ribcage. Though the increase of price was a quick way to sober her up. There is a long drawn out pause before she says in a sedate manner. "I may know someone and he is relatively cheap. Though you would do well to pay him before the job goes into action." She knew there would be a heated discussion later with the man for giving his presence top side away, but if it helped her get the locket then she would deal with the fall out.

“Oh aye?..” The runner’s tone was almost skeptical. It was too pat, too conveneient that she should hold the key to the very dilemma she had initiated. But then, perhaps she had known this would likely be the need all along. “I’m good for the gold..and I’ll not be puttin’ the crew at risk. So who is it? An’ how soon can you gettim’ here?”

Chatnu didn't miss the change in Red's manner. Not only did his tone give way to this, but the strong smell of caution. Did he think that she would want to tell him of this man when it could easily lead to her head parting unpleasantly with her shoulders? No, he would not know and perhaps it best not to tell too much. If she was lucky, perhaps she could talk her way into keeping her head. "He'll behave so long as he is paid, but be sure you make that clear along with the other conditions. He is tends to find ... loopholes in contracts when it suits him. He usually hangs around in Gamorg." Her tone lowers slightly and her ears turn back, searching, in a nervous way as a hint of fear touches her voice. "He is known as the harvester."

Finn snorted derisively. “An he can keep feckin’ harvestin’ in Gamorg..” he said bluntly. “Got my hands full enough on this gig without havin’ to be lookin’ over my shoulders in case he won’t stay in line. I run a tight ship,” he all but growled, no pun intended. “Don’t figure the captain’d be too happy havin’ the god damned bloody harvester on board either..” he added dryly. “I’ll take care of it..” The night was young, if he could track Ace down, her sources might be able to find him an easy, and less potentially troublesome mark. “Anythin’ else? Or is that it..”

Chatnu looked over her shoulder and hissed at Blingu, "Leave. I'll be down shortly." It was a bit harsher than what was normal, but the talk about the harvester had put her on edge. Turning back to Red only when Blingu was out of fermin ear shot she answers, "He wouldn't be traveling with you, but no nothing else." She didn't blame him for turning down the offer and was glad for it in the end. Saved her the trouble of the fall out. Taking that as the end of the conversation, Chatnu gives a little nod and departs back into the city and down into the sewers.

Hours later, just after dawn…

The blacks and grays of the night hours were fading into a soft orange brightening of the horizon of the still sleeping harbor, a low fog hanging just above the docks as the warmth of light and heat within the wooden structures housed in various berths mingled with the chill air outside. It was just cold enough that Finn had abandoned his post loitering in front of the captain’s vessel and adopted a position near one of the fire pits that had sprung up overnight on the stone docks. Sailors and other unemployed often overnighted out in the open, hopeful that being the first available hands when the captains stirred in the morning might get them a day’s labor and pay. The runner dug fists a little deeper into the warmth of his overcoat, grateful for the knit cap that now served for warmth rather than disguise, and listened with half an ear to the low conversation that was happening around the carved out container. “Yeah..hear tell it was the one they call the Razor that did it. Blood everywhere man. Gov’ner has double patrol workin’ the docks now, lookin’ fer who dun it. Summody should teller its them Cenril dogs lookin’ fer trouble. Shyte.” It was disgruntled. Finn resisted the urge to dry grin. It really wasn’t funny. The bastard had brought the heat down, and then fled to leave Red holding the bag. He’d pay for that. And where the bloody hell was his mage? The sun would rise soon.

Fibs has craftily stowed himself away on the ferry, having made a -rather expensive- friendship with the new boatman. The ferry captain, although a seasoned sailor and well learned in all the aspects of navigation, would seem to be naive to the desolute business that thrives between the ports. The halfling took advantage of this, and made nice in hopes of gaining some information, marks and passage from his newly appointed friend and his patronage. Poor bastard, he was probably unaware of the macabre fate his predecessor suffered. Fibs was draped in rags, in character as a child-deckhand, and if one was to look closely at him he was wiping down the salty rails. All out with his charade. He had good reason to be poking his nose around this day, too; early around twilight, as he was mingling with the seafolk of The Whaler and trying to sober up, a peculiar fellow arrived. His elven features, long robes and precoccious demeanour made him stand out like a magistrate would amongst fishmongers. Hell, they ~were~ fishmongers -he just happened to be a mage and not a statesman. He was asking about when the ferry departed to Rynvale, and he appeared to be in quite the hurry to cross the strait. He got heckled a bit by the locals, and went on his way. Now, with the sun just peeking over the horizon, the boat arrives with both the nameless mage and the curious, spying Fibs on board. The long azure-robed man, nervously wringing his hands, scans the dock as they come to port. He was meeting someone, that was for sure, but by his mannerisms it seemed even he wasn't sure who. He briskly moves from deck to wharf, look about anxiously, still uncertain as to who his confidant was to be; it was surprisingly busy at the harbor for sunrise, sailors and fishermen preparing for the day at sea. Not to mention the envoy of the Rynvalian Guard. Fibs coyly watches the stranger from under his ragged cowl and out of the periphery of his gaze, moving to the portside stern and continuing to wipe down the rail. The mage, somewhat flustered and definately out of his element in the bustling docks, looks around. He might not be able to find who he's looking for, but they could damn well sure pick him out of the crowd.

Finn’s eyes had been steadily sweeping the docks. He was not a regular perse, and so could not tell outright what faces belonged and what did not, but he could sure as hell tell when someone else felt that they did not belong and so he was looking for someone out of place. He’d no way of knowing if Ace would have secured what he needed on the island, or if the mage would be inbound, and so a careful watch was kept both the great gates to the port as well as the slowly awakening ferry dock. It was the bustle of the arrival of the morning’s first transport that drew the gold flecked gaze toward the same idly. And then the runner straightened. Bingo. Lifting his coat collar against the chill, the smuggler move away from the heat of the fire and into the path of unloading passengers. “Follow me..” it was an easy drawl that would find the tipped ears of the mage, the man pausing long enough for the elf to recognize where the voice had come from. And then he was moving again, across the flow of the unloading passengers and towards the shadow cast by the vessel in Hanan’s berth. Only when they were alone did he speak again. “Ace give you the details?..”

Fibs observed from his vantage the smuggler usher away the mage, but could not discern who it was that directed the mage. Dismayed at the lack of intrusive opportunity or any observation of real worth, the disguised halfling hobbled back across the deck, ready to depart once more for Cenril when the ferryman was. Feh, he thinks to himself, turned my stomach on the wretched waves for nothing.

Finn remained unaware of the disappointed observer, his attention focused on the male who seemed to settle just a little now that he realized he’d crossed the hurdle of making his appointment on time. The offer of gold on the table for the seeming simple job was quite generous, and in these hard times, not to be overlooked. “Some..” he muttered, “But I will need more specifics, if I am to prepare appropriately to counter the relic’s magics..” he added. Finn nodded. It was as he expected. “Cimb aboard..the captain has quarters prepared for you. Stay out from underfoot until you’re needed, and we’ll get along just fine. We’ll haul anchor at sunrise..” which would be within the hour by the looks of things. He shrugged his coat closer around him. Winter was not his favorite season. The mage nodded, and gathering his small bag of belongings moved away to step up the gangplank, disappearing into the shadows above as the runner turned to scan the docks again.

Mahri is one of the last to disembark from the ferry, stepping aside as it seems a squatish figure is intent on reboarding. Furrowing her brow at the peculiar figure, the lycan dismisses him out of hand when she steps onto the doc and takes a deep breath of the briney air. The mishmash of scents is almost homey, familiar and welcome. In a decidedly good mood, despite the rumor-mill working overtime on events concerning Cenril, Mahri begins the slow and tedious walk towards dry land. Sailors and Captains getting ready to sail with the evening tide mutter excuses even as they bump past her. Shifting the odd looking back over her shoulder, Mahri uncharacteristically nods in dismissal. Visually scanning ahead, the Rider and Eternity's First Mate, narrows her eyes spying a familiar shock of red against a sea of black caps and jackets with collars turned up against the cold. Herself? She's in her usual garb even though her breath mingles with a light fog. Sooner or later, Mahri'll have to get a jacket or some sort. Maybe something like a trench coat, she muses to herself. Without meaning to, she picks up her pace, shouldering past those going slower than she until she comes near enough to Finn to almost touch him. She won't however, no matter how much her palms itch to. "Trouble's brewin' Runner," she says to catch his attention before edging past and tossing a meaningful glance over her shoulder. Again, the seal-skin sack is hitched up over her shoulder. The lycan will be looking for a quieter, less crowded place to chit chat unless Red, himself, offers to lead the way.

Finn’s eyes had come to rest on the ferry again, likely because it was where the bulk of activity remained for the moment, his mind lazily going through the checks of what needed to be covered before he left port. Shale had already been commissioned to watch the parlor and shop, Terra, the captain and her new..cook, aboard as best he knew, and he’d secured the mage they would need to bring the trinket back safely. By his count they were ready to set out. So why was he standing here in the cold? There was something about the city, about the port that he had made his home, about the nich he had carved out fro himself in its shadows that made it hard to leave. His lips twitched. He was becoming a sentimental bastard. Maybe it would help to remember that he was leaving for more than business. Kingsley’s field day on the dock..the blood bath that ensued, had brought down the heat. He had to go. Brow furrowed. The god dammed Razor had found a way to drive him from his home. A muscle clenched in his jaw, eyes staring into nothingness. Thus it was that when her heat reached out to him, when the murmured greeting of the Rider tugged his consciousness to the present, she’d caught him almost unawares. Eyes fell to her face, flickering to the pack that rested on her shoulders..moving in? out? “You don’t say darlin’..” he drawled softly. “Figured as much.. come aboard?” Hanan had given him carte blanche to use the captain’s quarters for business. He’d just have to ignore the fact that there was likely an unmade bed tucked away in the corner. That wouldn’t be..awkward. “Second person in less than twelve hours to tell me that. Got any specifics?” and he’d be moving ahead of her up the gangplank.

Mahri follows along amiably, eying the ship out of purely professional reasons. "Nice ship you got. Didn't take you for much of a sailor, Runner." Was that a teasing note? If he happens to look back the expression on her face will be one of bland interest with the fading light of mirth in silvery eyes. "No specifics, not really. Pirates going where they shouldn't," a glance over her shoulder at the docks, "killings and the like. And you know.." she pauses, "everything just seems unsettled, like something is supposed to happen and folks are waiting."

Finn led the way to the door of the captain’s quarters, leaning against the now open doorway to let her pass through, arms crossed over his chest as eyes tracked her into the warmth of the room. Good thing Hanan kept a low fire behind metallic grill doing all the time. “I’m not..” he offered her an easy grin, “Hate the damned things. Figure that’s half the reason I’m not outa here yet.” Gold flecked gaze swept the room, the peculiarly half feminine half hellion touches that were Hanan, were all about. “This one isn’t mine. Kirikae’s careening the Chaser. Hanan’s ship..” Stepping into the space behind her he wandered over to the cabinet where he knew the cat kept her liquor. “Drink?..” He glanced her way again. “Looks like you’re travellin.’ Comin’..goin’?” He poured himself a stiff shot. “Word got to me last night..somethin’ about the north and the south takin’ issue with each other..” He shrugged. “None of my concern..less it spills across the channel.” Though it sure as hell would feel good to see that bastard bandit run off his turf..same as was happening to him right now..

Mahri is on her way to the fire, listening even if she's not quite paying attention. She knew the scents in this room and a smile tugs the corners of her lips. Wouldn't the captain be so pleased to know that she'd been aboard? This is the only reason Mahri lingers in the quarters. To get her scent good and established. "You need a safe place to stay, Runner?" The quietness of the question might suggest she had a place in mind, if accepted, "I don't much recommend Cenril right now." Of course, knowing him as she did, Mahri is fairly certain that Finn already has a plan--somewhere to go. She tried to ignore the awareness of the man when he moves behind her but that so familiar prickle of 'knowing' won't fade no matter how much space is put between she and he. Or rather, how much she tries to distance herself from Red. "Yes," as though he had to ask if she wanted a drink. It's a bonus that the booze belongs to Hanan anyway! Setting the seal-skin on the floor, Mahri takes the necessary steps to take the offered drink and toss it back, no matter what it is, before answering the non-question of her activities, "This time? Comin'."

Finn didn’t miss the quietness of the undertone in the offer, and fingers stilled briefly in the act of pouring rum into the second shot glass. It was funny, how time healed most wounds, blurred memories, made it easy to forget what the hell ever had taken them south in the first place. The prickle of awareness crawled up his nape, memories of eerily domesticated scenes that had unfolded in their early mornings flashing before unseeing whisky gaze as his back remained to her. Fingers tightened and the act was completed, his face wiped clean of anything but an easy smile as he turned. “Thanks darlin’.. But I figure its set to blow over in a few days. Headin’ north to finish a job, maybe recruit some muscle. Bastard Kingsley took out some of my best men..” His eyes drifted over her. “You look..good. Stayin’ long?”

Hanan ::There was a light knock on the trap door on the floor of the Captain's quarters, then a small creak as it was lifted. Then a head of disheveled dark hair out of its usual braid, a pair of brown eyes casting Mahri a good-natured but rather annoyed glare. "You know." Tan hands were planted on the floorboards as the Captain herself climbed up, lucky jacket and all. "This is my ruttin' bedroom, not your office, -Red.-" The next glare recipient. "Gave you a room for a reason."But she wasn't exactly kicking them out, either. "If you're going to drink my booze, you can pour me one." She ignored the bastard Kingsley bit, instead crossing to her bed, grabbing her comb from the nightstand, and going to work.

Mahri is about to answer, ignoring parts of Red's speech over others. Such as the compliment that warmed but couldn't be taken seriously. The knock and subsequent opening of the trap door has her turning slightly, a brow raised as she watches Hanan emerge. "Oh," she begins with mock innocence, "This is ~your~ room?" Smirking a bit at the woman she sets empty glass on the sideboard. No move is made to pour the Captain a drink. Let Red take care of it or Hanan can do it her own damn self. Mahri migh have a touch of respect for the vampire-in-denial, but she's not her bloody servant. A breath is drawn in and released slowly while an arched sort of look is cast the other woman's way. Her next words however are directed towards Finn, "If you need help lemme know." Even if she doesn't think he will in any case. "I'm staying however long I'm needed or the mood strikes me to move along. The usual."

The sound of that trapdoor opening drew Finn’s attention from the lycan female, though not before he offered her a quiet nod and a murmured observation. “Might at that.. Figure your lot loiter there more than most. Keep an ear to the ground..maybe pass on anything useful? Don’t reckon on playing anything but spectator right now. But be good to know if it gets ugly enough to hurt business..” Or to spill across the channel. Scenes like the one currently chasing him from port could not be allowed to multiply. Hanan received a raised brow. “Didn’t figure it was your bedroom cat..seein’ as you weren’t exactly sleepin’ in your bed aye?” His lips ticked slightly with the comment. He was more than aware of which room was under the captain’s..and who had been berthed there. “I suppose we’ll be waitin’ for breakfast then..” offered dryly. A third glass was poured and slid across the table towards the dressing captain.

Hanan rolled her eyes at Mahri, whom the room absolutely reeked of now. "You coming along on the hop, then? I've got a spare room." Well, she was honest, anyway. And it'd spare her crew from being stuck with a hammock next to hers. The glass was taken as soon as Red slid it over, she giving him an annoyed but genuine smirk at that comment. "You're checkin' up on where I'm sleepin' now, Red? Don't make me worry. Y'know that bitch Yasmine is after her." She didn't feel a need to say who she was. "And you know Yasmine knows sneaky types. I was keepin' an eye on her, making sure she doesn't get spooked and burn my damn ship down." By doing what had gotten Yasmine was so pissed off in the first place. She chose to ignore the irony. She bent her elbow, took a sip, set it down and started combing again. "What's this about Cenril? I heard you talkin' about Cenril."

Mahri shakes her head at Hanan and keeping quiet manages to learn a few things. Of interest is mention of Yasmine. Leaning nonchalantly on the nearest wall, Mahri queries casually, "Yasmine is after someone? What for?" She doesn't, tactfully, ask who. However, since the other lycan's sudden break with Mahri's family, that is Cabal, the alpha had a few bones to pick with her.

Finn snorted slightly at the explanation offered by the hellcat. “As long as we’re not starvin’ cat, reckon I don’t care much how much protectin’ you’re doin,” he drawled easily. “Brought a mage aboard overnight. Need him to carry the score, mess a body up otherwise, cording to Squeak.. told him to bunk in the last officer’s berth. Wanna keep him outa the way of the crew if I can help it.” A quick glance was offered Mahri’s way. She’d not said yes or no to his suggestion that she work Cenril for intel. “ I’ll understand if you’d rather not drag your people into this..not their war any more than it is ours..”

Hanan shook her head, the snarls out of her hair, finally; she left it loose, tucked it behind her ears. She could tell Mahri, right? She knew nothing of a split-up. May as well hope this wolf doesn't hear the wrong thing from the other wolf. "We... split up. If there was ever anything to split up. She decided she loved me, after far too short a time--I mean, shyte, she barely knew me--and I figured it better to break it up than hurt her. Right? We have a final talk about it a couple days ago. Then, the day after that, I meet this girl in the Barrel, the bard, she tries to pick me up. Awkwardly, but let's face it, I didn't mind, needed that. Nothing happened, though. I saw her the next day in the Barrel, we get to talking, and Yasmine's there. She gets violent with a group of sailors, but she was clearly handling herself. Apparently shot the girl a damn angry look, though, while we sat at the bar. Spooked her. Then a day after that someone tries to assasinate her, up in the parlor. What a ruttin' coincidence. In short, Yasmine's a whore of a hypocrite and I'm tryin' to keep the other one safe." That was a whole bunch of words. "Red--a secret mage, huh? I'm fine... so long as I get to interrogate the bastard. You saw what a mage can do if they get out of control. I don't like the secret."

Mahri snaps a glance towards Finn giving him a curt nod. "It'd just be me, Red. No one else." We'll call it trust issues here.

Mahri gives her attention back to Hanan, quite interested in this tidbit of news. Her lip curls up almost with anticipation. "I knew there was a reason I didn't like that bitch." And she means the word in the not so nice way. Eying Hanan a few more minutes so she can say all she has to say, Mahri offers, "Want me to have a word with her?" If there happens to be a touch too much eagerness in the question, Mahri'll simply grin past it.

Finn was leaning against a fire warmed cabin wall again, nursing what was left of the amber liquid in his glass. Eyes rested on the captain as she filled in the pieces that he’d not heard of to date. It wasn’t like he and the captain were bosom confidantes. He’d figured something was up with her and the wolf once the lycan had stopped coming around, and the little flirty sessions in the bar had ceased. Something had had to account for her mood of late too..and it would seem this was it. But to go so far as an assassination attempt? Poor taste among their kind..who knew the rules only too well. Whisky gaze drifted to the wolf currently in residence. She’d never seemed to indicate a desire to harm the vampire who shared his bed..but there was the whole, friends thing. He’d not put it past her to have taught another rival a lesson or two behind closed doors however. His lips twitched at the thought. Mahri had always felt in extremes. It was what had made him balk. Too much, too soon. Maybe he was being hard on the absent Yasmine then. Attention flickered to the wolf. “Easy Rider..not your fight. Might make it worse for the girl.”

Hanan snickered. Alright, this was something: she'd been afraid Mahri would take the other wolf's side. "I guess that depends. What do you mean by a ruttin' word? Are you goin' to let her weep all over you like those twerps who follow her 'round waitin' for a lick or are you going to use your knuckles?" Her eyes slid over to Red as she took another sip, her smirk having quite solidly returned. Fine. Maybe he was right. "I'll take any tips you have, Wolf, but I'm not like her. I punch my own faces. I'll have words with her myself." Words and stabs and blunt force injuries. "Seriously. Kissin' me shouldn't be a killin' offense. I don't get it. Yas picked me up for a damn fling, we knew it was nothin'. Must have been lyin' to me the whole time. Anyway: bard's on the ship, safe so long as I've got my sword on me. We should focus on the business at hand."

Mahri simply stares blankly at Finn before ignoring the warning and shifting that coldly metalic gaze towards Hanan again. "I'm short on words, Bloodsucker." However, the eventual refusal of her offer gets a shrug and the push against wood to propell the lycan towards the door, "A tip, eh? For the most effective damage, catch her in the middle of shifting. She'll be practically defenseless." Now, if that tidbit had ever been used against Mahri --assuming someone had ever been smart enough to realize just how open to attack her kind were mid-shift-- she'd probably hunt them down and kill them just so no one else knew that trick. But to impart it to Hanan while keeping her own cards close (That is she's plans of her own when it comes to Yasmine) isn't such a bad thing in her opinion. "You two focus on your business. I ain't part of it, whatever it is. I got my own thing." A nod to both and she's gone, the door closing gently behind her.

Ruana finally wakes her lazy arse up. There's stretching, lots of stretching, and a smile on her face. Even as she utters a groan of complaint while she crawls out of bed, she's happy. She's wearing that not at all winter appropriate outfit of hers when she comes out of her room, and the first thing she does? Shiver. One of these days, she's going to steal that jacket from Hanan, she swears it. She just wanders about the ship, for now, getting accustomed to it since she figures she'll be there for at least a short while. Naturally, she gets a few yelling-ats for poking her nose in places she shouldn't. And a few wandering eyes. Hell, even Finn watched her hips sway the other day, so no surprise there.

Finn watched Mahri leave, a thoughtful expression in his gaze. Too easy. If he was a betting man he’d put gold on it that Yasmine would be hearing from..or feeling the rider soon. Hanan’s comment however, would be enough to drag him back to the present. “Aye..you’re right captain. And the first order of business is getting us out of port. Sun’s up. Haul anchor,” And then he was pushing himself off the wall. “Going to check on Terra..” It’d been a while. “Holler if you need be. We can talk specifics when we drop anchor in Chartsend.” And the he too, was moving towards the door with intent to cross the deck and drop down the hatch to the lower levels where his lover was quartered.

Hanan snickered. "You givin' me orders on my ship, Red? You're lucky I like your style.." There, an admission, best he'd get, that she'd grown fond of the bastard. "Say hello to Terra for me, tell 'er to leave her cabin at some point." Hanan rose, rolled her shoulders. "I'll shove off when I mean to. When we scheduled it. Which is now, incidentally." She gave her hair and clothes one last check in the mirror and moved to follow him out, a yell on her lips as soon as she stepped past the door. "HARRY! OLIVEY! Get this anchor up and get us out." She turned up the steps to the quarterdeck over her cabin, tapping the helmsman--boy, really--on the shoulder. "Easy on it. Too much and we hit the docks. Again." Where was Ruana? Her eyes scanned the deck, seeking her out.