glowrat

I drew something today

You don't know how to answer that. It's not that you don't know the obvious answer - it's how you fear she would react. Who knows what the people here think of magic? If anything was a curse at your old den, it was the stigma... and you're still not sure what to think of it yourself. So you decide to start with the smaller stuff, and take a step backward from the sword's tip. "...I'll be honest," you say, "I don't have a lot of experience, but... I was always real good at hide and seek, and I can make a good snowhiir." Rye looks unimpressed, and lowers her sword to see if there were others waiting for her to be distracted. She doesn't bother to stand up. You didn't come all this way to be trapped in a place like this, so you brace yourself and add, "I can use magic pretty well, too." She sighs. "That doesn't sound particularly special. Anyone can throw sparks, you know." She demonstrates by snapping little arcs of electricity between her digits. Now comes the moment of truth. "Just yesterday," you continue, "I took down a rozo by myself. One zap, and he was out." "Please. You're a bad liar." She swishes her tail behind her and yawns, eyes heavy as though she wanted to go back to sleep. "Hmm. But at least you're not cocky about it." She scratched her chin in thought. "...I'll tell you what. If you can show me you're as powerful as you say, then I'll let you down to see the chieftains with Farragus." You choke a little as you speak. "...I don't actually have a lot of control over it. And I don't want to hurt you." "So what I'm hearing is, you don't have any evidence for it?"

[Smurfton: Try not to exaggerate.]

Beating around the bush doesn't seem to help your case, and you're getting tired of not being taken seriously. At least, being a magic user doesn't seem to hold the same weight here as it did back home. It's at this moment that you realize you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. So you tell her everything. "...Okay. I don't even want to be a scout." You note the change of tone in your voice. "I was about to buy a tunic earlier today, with money that I got for knocking out that rozo. I had... I had over ten thousand spice given to me, and then taken away, today. And now I'm here. ...I just wanna find the toril who still has it, before they leave town." You pause, feeling a familiar dryness in your throat. "...I'd do anything," you say, "to find her." She did save your life, after all.

Rye stands up with a look of grim curiosity. "...Okay. Let's say what you're telling me is true, and let's say we find that torill. What are you going to do after?" Her stance reminds you of your small stature. "...I'll give the clan some of the money, and then I'll be on my way." "...And how much money did you say you had?" "I had eighty-seven hundred spice, when I lost it," you say.

Suddenly, a there is a familiar ringing in your ears. The source is obvious this time; Rye is talking to the chieftains. "Ahem. Rohan, this is Rye. You guys happened to find a small bag while you were out there, didn't you?" There is a delay, until another voice comes from somewhere far beneath you. "Yeees, yes, this is Rohan. We have the one. This had better be good, Rye." "I have an important question," she responds. "Did you find it in the sea?" "Yes, we did," came the other voice again. "And just about how many guards did you kill to get it?" There is another delay, about ten seconds long - and a slight stirring in the air as the other hiiri start to wake up. The crowd outside was one thing, but this was kind of hard to ignore. Finally, a third voice pierces the darkness. "This is Moe. I counted there to be seven yellow ones, and eight purple ones." Rye takes a deep breath, and sighs. "...It appears that bag belongs to the young one you found wandering outside, and he wants to be a scout to get it back." "What?" says a voice, which you recognize as Felna's. And then there is a long, long silence.

Growing impatient, she steps aside. "Just go down, already," she says out loud, preparing herself to fend off the small crowd gathering nearby. "The rest of you can back off." You just follow your orders.

____

The way down is pretty straightforward, although it's dark, even for a hiir. But at least you can catch the bends in the path before you run into them. Sometimes the floor gets steeper, or a wooden frame lines the walls... and you only seem to take left turns. The voices of chieftains arguing about you bounce around in your head, and you are tempted to tell them all to shut up - but you know better, and instead flatten your ears to try and quiet them. You are really glad telling the truth seemed to work; you aren't particularly proud of some of the things you would have tried otherwise. Eventually, you see a light...