Dare Don't Mourn the Grey

Fray’s gaze narrowed just a fraction as she witnessed Evyn work. Easy enough to believe the lass was sick; Fray herself would have assumed as much from the start, if Evyn hadn’t gotten all the way here without so much as a slight cough. She looked frail, yes, but the hardness in her eyes and the set of her jaw suggested she had survived this long for a reason.

The Deva crossed her impressive biceps and leaned back into her chair. Between them, the food and drink started looking rather forlorn. She decided to take a sip and a bite, in that order, and only somewhat regretted it after. The food was tolerable, just a combination of roasted potatoes and some dried meats. The ale, on the other hand, was glorified piss, and watered down at that. She frowned as she set the cup down and exchanged it for some jerky to chew on instead.

It was clear that the bloke grinning at Evyn as she spun her lies had only coin on his mind. Fray could practically see the gears turning in his mind, numbers adding and subtracting, no doubt with considerable effort.

“Well, well,” he mused. He was a sinister looking fellow with a long scar down one side of his face and dark, scraggly hair. Fray instantly disliked his oily manner, but if he had any leads then she was all ears. “Best get you back to your brother then, darlin’.”

He stood up slowly, eyeing Fray and her assortment of weapons meaningfully. “Ladies, if you’d so kindly follow me.”

“To fucking where, exactly?” Fray demanded as she showed exactly zero inclination to move.

The man dipped his head in what she assumed was false humility. “My apologies, I haven’t properly introduced myself. The name’s Fedik. I’ve worked a few times with your brother. I don’t claim to know specifically where that schemin’ bastard is at this moment, but I’ve got a pretty go idea of the general area. Which I can show you, of course, for a small fee.”

His grin returned at this last statement. Fray was reasonably sure this was some kind of trap, but they weren’t exactly rich in options. Sighing, the mercenary glanced at Evyn before tossing the man a coin. He caught it with disturbing deftness, one hand flashing through the air before passing over a pouch hanging on his belt. Pushing herself up and out of the rickety chair, Fray finished the potatoes, crammed the remaining jerky into one of her pockets, and conspicuously avoided the ale altogether. She then placed what she thought was the appropriate amount of payment on the table, well within sight of Fedik, if for no other reason than to prove that she could.

“Alright then, Diky boy,” she grinned back. “Lead the way, then.”

Evyn had to truly keep her face from smiling once she saw the smug look on Fedik's face fall after Fray called him Diky boy. It had been an important interaction too, for Evyn sounded like a desperate young woman with coin to offer, but Fray was the being to caution any one that thought to take advantage of Evyn's need to find her brother.

Fedik turned away, recovering from the slight dressing down he had received, but once they were out of the pub, he waited for them both. Fray first, Evyn following closely behind.

His eyes went straight to her. "Must of been a tough few days on your own."

Evyn wanted to cringe at his attempt of small talk but she had made herself small and in need of assistance, and that meant being subjected to people like him. "I tire easily without my tonics, but I am grateful that Fray found me and put some spirit back into me."

She didn't speak like this. Not at all. This was the kind of talk her employer's wife spoke with. She had been a noble but fell in love with a working man beneath her station. Evyn distrusted her at first, until she understood that the woman was not like the rest of her like. Should she be unnerved she could imitate the very thing she hated most back home?

"We are grateful for your guidance through this city." Would it be cheeky of her to motion for him to keep walking? Evyn didn't think more on it, her hand simply ushered him to move on.

And thus, put an end to the small talk.

The waifish woman fell into step beside Fray again, not using her as a shield, but standing beside her in case anything were to happen. It was better to stand together and face something than to hide behind her and lose someone she had promised to help once they found Duscan.

Fray fought the snort of laughter bubbling up her throat. The waif played her part well. She certainly looked starved enough that even the flimsiest of acting did the trick. But this meek and helpless version of Evyn made for such a stark contrast from the urchin she had barreled over this morning that it took real effort not to blow their cover.

Oh, Fray had put some spirit in her alright. Though whether it was from knocking her on her scrawny ass or actually agreeing to help find her brother, who was to say.

Evyn ushered the man to lead the way, which got him to shut his hole and start moving. Fray followed close behind. Though her posture remained relaxed, her eyes scanned every nook and cranny as they exited through the back of the tavern. There was still plenty of daylight left, making it easier to spot an ambush. But Fray had been taken for a fool just this morning; she was not keen on letting history repeat itself so soon.

They made their way through alleys and side streets in silence, except for the handful of times Fray asked impatiently if they were getting close. Always, Fedik replied yes, very close indeed. This did not instill any great amount of confidence, but the Deva chose not to bail...if only so that if this did turn out to be a trap, she could personally ensure Diky Boy got to see the inside of his own guts.

They did eventually stop in front of a weathered old door. But their guide seemed a little shifty as he looked left then right, checking for something or someone.

"This better not be a trap, Diky," Fray muttered.

The man laughed nervously. "Wouldn't dream of it. Please, this way, ladies."

He gave the door three distinct knocks, and within a few moments it swung inward to reveal a den of ne'er do wells that Fray could practically smell from where she stood. It was a dingy sort of place, not a proper tavern like the one before. But there were plenty of folk sitting and drinking, and if one of them happened to be Duscan, then Fray was ready to thank her lucky stars. She was decidedly tired of chasing people today.

They followed Fedik inside the musty old lair until he stopped at one of the tables. Around it sat three mean eyed individuals. Two men armed to the teeth. And the third, a woman, with waves of midnight hair and kohl-lined eyes. Fray immediately noticed the low cut of her blouse. It was distracting, to say the least.

"Look what the cat dragged in," one of the men sneered. "How fares the life of a pick pocket, Fedik?"

Diky had the grace to look a wee bit embarrassed. "Not great these days, to be truthful. Which is why I am doing some honest work today, charitable even you might say, swear on my own undug grave." He gestured at Evyn. "The poor lass is looking for that no good brother of hers. Anyone seen ol' Dusky around lately?"

Evyn did not like any of this one bit, especially when they all entered the room. Her eyes, bastard eyes, scanned the interiors swiftly and made herself aware of what exits or obstacles that way keep them from running. Each person inside clearly did not like Fedik, but she would not drop her defenses just yet.

"Duscan the Bastard, he likes to be affectionately called. Hard to miss him, ashen tears and all." Her hands came up, fingers dragging from beneath her eyes to demonstrate what his indenture marks looked like.

Evyn slowly looked to Fray, catching their stare was aimed at the woman and the tantalisingly low cut of her blouse. Stifling a snort, she turned to look at Fedik. "He claims to know my brother. I am a bastard too, we are all family where we are from..." She would most certainly punch the next person that said she and Duscan do not look related. "Fedik here needs to be paid for his kindness in reuniting me with my brother."

But were these people to be trusted? Was this an act they were all part of?

Perhaps it would have been easier to advertise herself at every pub and drinking hole until Duscan found her... but Evyn chose against that idea for a good reason. What if he did not want to see her? This way, if he did not catch wind she was here in Crorefell, then he could not be given the chance to hide away from her.