"A dwarf of many parts," the dwarf says approvingly, and looks sideways at Sharben, "you'll not get your wish with this one dear fellow."

Sharben's face falls, and he looks aghast at Grabthar. It never occured to the jailer that his Throalic prisoner could understand him.

"But..." he begins to protest and is silenced by a wave of the dwarf's hand.

"I don't expect to see this one at the market, am I understood? I will arrange the sale personally. Have him ready for collection tomorrow."

Sharben nods sullenly.

"and Sharben, guard him carefully" the dwarf adds over his shoulder, "any damage that comes to him, they'll do the same to you."

The jailer looks up in shock as the dwarf leaves, with the smile of a shark.

When Atrii is ready he knocks on the door and the elf opens it. His guard escorts are gone. The corridor looks naked without them.

The pair make their way to the docks. The elf seems to know exactly where she is going. She leads Atrii to a ship, a stone ship styled to look like an Eagle.

She calls out, "Shem-Ka, you old pirate!" and a tattooed bald head peers over the deck.

"Lariella," the dwarf replies, "come aboard you shiftless layabout."

She leads Atrii aboard, where the stocky dwarf catches her up in a bear hug, swinging her around.

When he puts her down he looks at Atrii and raises an eyebrow, "what's this then?" he asks. "Why this is your newest crewman, bright of mind, and down on his luck. Perhaps he'll even coax a tune out of that beaded harp for you."

The dwarf shakes his head, "that women has a touch of the prophet about her," he mutters to himself.

He offers Atrii his hand, "Shem-Ka's my name," he says, "and I help the captain keep this bird flying and keep the crew in order if need be. Do right by us and we'll do right by you." He waves a cautionary finger.

"I'll find out all about you over the next few days, but for now give me your name at least lad."

Grabthar looks back at the old human gaoler, his face still betraying no emotion.

"The stew was good, thank you." he says in Theran.

The next day a pair of orks, one short one tall, escort the jailer to the cell. The short one chatting ambiably despite the jailer's impassive face and lack of response. "...and you can imagine the mess, laugh, I thought my sides would split, of course, when Bashthraka here was done with them their sides really did split. Well, you can just imagine the mess...."

Sharben's hands shake as he unlocks the cage, "here he is then, just like old Sharben promised, yes he did and there you go, better than he deserves it is, unfair of course but nobody asks Sharben, no it's all second chances here.." his voice fades to a mutter.

The shorter ork cracks his knuckles, idly, and looks to Grabthar, "we were to ask after your health," he says, "silly of us to worry so, but we do get concerned."

Grabthar gets slowly to his feet.

"I have been treated well."

He looks over at the table bearing his... no, not belongings. He is the belonging now. His equipment, particularly his trusty hammer... Gravin Threndor. He wonders whether he will ever see it again.

[Throalic]In my language, K'tenshin means filthy maggot, and I'd sooner lie with them than with your kind. I did not cause your trouble, you attacked my ship for no reason other than my foundation fell out of favor. Spits on the ground. If only he had his sword with him, he could show her what it means to cross Z'phir Yashi Mars. However, that was taken from him, and although his tail could work, there are far too many K'tenshin here for him to get far, unless she leads him up a tower.


Yes, his wings could carry him away from here, but without his equipment. He may have been taken as property, but his mind is still his, and if they push too far, he will give them a piece of it.

You want me for something, but it would be better for you to just let me go. You know you can't keep me forever.

The little ork follows his gaze,
"those things yours?" he asks, "because they look heavy, and I'm not carrying them for you." He gestures for Grabthar to pick them up.

He pats Sharben on the back and hands him a coin, "don't worry old man, there are plenty of bandits, rapists and murderers for you to see sold at market, there will be blood."

Leaving the jailer to his cell the pair escort Grabthar out into the light. At first the sight is dizzying, being so bright after days of gloom and so high up you can hardly see the earth beneath you!

The little ork continued chatting and Grabthar realises he missed most of what was being said, "...so that's the best we could do on short notice, but they'll make room for you somehow, Upandal willing."

The ork taps some crates, and Grabthar realises with shock, that he's been lead right to the edge of this huge platform in the Sky. that he stands on the very docks.

"Why are these still sitting here" the ork muses, "don't they know there are unsavoury characters about?"

"Hello on the ship," he calls "is anyone wake up there?"

An elf girl looks over and grumbles, "what do you want Pug? Captain's at the Market with Shem-Ka, come back later."

"or never," she adds in a low mutter.

"Is that any way to talk to a friend?" Pug asks, stretching nonchalantly, "and as a friend I'm teling you that Blood-Fang'll want these crates unloaded and about by the time she returns."

He pats Grabthar on the back, "she's got herself a new Weaponsmith, and a right college of war unto himself he is."

The elf rings a bell and directs a flurry of activity as the crates are cracked open and the makings of a small forge are bustled aboard.

"How disappointingly provincial," the wingless maggot replies in the same language, "I think you might have won yourself some friends."

"Well, if we disgust you, then I assume you are not interested in trade? perhaps for the freedom of your crewmates? I had heard tell the Dragon Moon were bargainers."

"You have something we want," she says, "and we have something you want. If it assuages your conscience think of it as diluting our line with the blood of the Moon Dragon, perhaps it will change our ways."