The Questing Game

"That's how you see it," Keritanima sniffed. "Wikuna had an absolute fortune tied up in Dayise. We had to protect our interests."

"I have noticed that Wikuna often protects its own interests with no regard as to the damage they cause to others," Dola

"You make it sound like the Wikuni are bullies," Azakar said.

"They are," Dar said. "And they've gotten alot worse over the last few decades."

"Blame that on my father, not on me," Keritanima said defensively.

"You all should be packing your belongings," Dola

Leaving. Tarrin turned and looked back at the old galleon, a legend on the Sea of Storms. He hated being stuck on it, but it had served his group well. Kern had delivered them to Dayise, more or less on time, and things looked to be going well. Dola

But it had been a good trip, all things considering. They were still alive, at any rate, and that had to count for something.

Going below, Tarrin and Dar packed their sparse belongings in relative silence. Tarrin didn't own all that much, and his staff was now in Azakar's hands. The Mahuut Knight couldn't look like a Knight, and the staff would help the disguise of an Arakite merchant. Arakites were always armed, and well known to carry around either elaborately decorated walking sticks, canes, or staves, which doubled as weapons should they be under attack. Dola

It was a very effective ruse Dola

"Catch, Tarrin," Dar said in Arakite, which caused the Were-cat to turn around in time to snatch a sheathed dagger from the air. It was Tarrin's, the dagger he'd won at the fair just before leaving Aldreth, which he had lent to Dar some days ago. Dar gri

"I don't get rusty with languages, Dar," he replied in flawless, fluent Arakite. "It's a knack."

"That accent is not a knack," he criticized. "It's atrocious."

"Blame my father. He sounded the same way."

"Then I'll have to have a long talk with him when we get back to Suld," he said, closing his pack and tying it shut. "I'm ready. I hope we'll have time to buy some new clothes."

"Who knows how long we'll be here?" Tarrin shrugged, tying closed his own pack. Tarrin only owned a few sets of clothes, the dagger, and a few other small personal items. He didn't really need a great deal of excess baggage slowing him down. That made his own backpack very light. He slid it onto his back and settled the straps into a comfortable position on his back, then changed form to make sure the backpack would go into that elsewhere the same as his clothes. It did so, and, satisfied, he shifted back to his humanoid form. He touched the shaeram around his neck, remembering a time when he almost took off his own head to get rid of it. How things had changed. It meant much more to him than a collar now, it represented the Goddess, and it was something that never failed to send a little electric tingle through his fingers when he touched it. It still represented a little bit of captivity, to the Goddess if anyone else, but she had already proved that she was the gentlest of mistresses, and someone whom he could tolerate for the time he would be subservient to her.

There was a knock on the door, then it opened. Azakar looked a bit silly in the robes, and the look on his face made it apparent how much he disliked Dola

"I'm not ready yet," Dar said, pulling the robe she had made for him over his head. He looked like a smaller version of Azakar in that robe.

"Well, step on it, cousin," Azakar chided. "We can't keep Mistress Dola

"Zak, you look like a butterfly," Tarrin noted.

"Please. I've already been called a fluffy dandersnap by Faalken. That was right before I threw him overboard."

"You didn't!" Dar gasped.

"Some insults can't be left unchallenged," Azakar said bluntly. "He should be glad he wasn't in his armor yet. His armor would have sent him straight to the bottom."

Dar gave Azakar a strangled look, then burst out laughing.

"Azakar," Tarrin said as he started closing the door.

"What?"

"Don't even think of trying to throw me over the rail."

"I'm not that stupid, Tarrin," he said waspishly as he closed the door. That only made Dar laugh harder.

On deck, they were all there. Faalken's hair was still damp, and the sight of it mad Dar explode into laughter yet again. That drew a nasty look from the Knight, but it did nothing to make the young Arkisian stop. Everyone was in costume, he saw. Azakar and Dar wore flowing, voluminous robes of very bright reds and yellows. Dola