The Mercurial Lives of Kajulan and Tekole

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The city of Uruda was unlike any other in the Empire; Nowhere else had it's ruling philosophy failed so spectacularly. Not that Kajulan knew this, nor would she care if she did. She was a scofflaw, better with a knife than with words, and the current state of the city suited her just find, various injuries notwithstanding.

Uruda is changing however, and an already lonely life has become even more so. After the closest thing she has to a friend is forced out by new blood, Kajulan must adapt to the shifting nature of the criminal underworld, or die trying. Thankfully, she is not the only one in Uruda at a crossroads. Factory hand Tekole is teetering on the edge of a precipice, and with just a little pushing, Kajulan may find that she has a new partner in crime.
Part 1: The One With the Knife
Uruda was a city unlike any other in the empire; Nowhere else had its ruling philosophy failed so spectacularly. The city was isolated, disconnected from the nomadic steppes that surrounded it. Its leadership was not of the city, and ruled it as such. And few remained with the knowledge to practice magic, that which kept Aegeroth's peoples connected to the land they called home.

But Kajulan didn't know any of this. What she knew was that a noble's house was impenetrable, a noble's guard wouldn't hesitate to run her through, and a noble's purse would buy her lunch, but a noble's jewelry would buy her lunch, dinner, and dessert, with something nice atop it all.

Of course, Kajulan also knew that anyone worth robbing didn't go anywhere without their stab-happy protection. Unless, of course, they were doing something they weren't supposed to, like sneaking out early in the morning to meet with a sweetheart for a romantic rendezvous. Now that made a good target.

It also helped if said sweethearts were too busy holding hands and staring longingly into each other's eyes to notice the gangly woman who had been following them for the past ten minutes.

Kajulan glanced around her surroundings, while keeping pace with the young couple. She had to admit, it was a pretty romantic locale. Running along the pier, it gave a perfect view of the rising sun, as foreign ships waded through thick tide and the dry morning mists rolled in. It was also completely abandoned, filled with boarded up shops and very little foot traffic. Not that this was unusual. There were a lot of abandoned places in Uruda, and the people of the city didn't much care for the ocean. Which did make it unusual that the pier had been built in the first place.

Kajulan began to ponder this question, before remembering that she wasn't here to think about socioeconomics. She was here to commit a robbery. Kajulan quickened her pace, briefly entering a sprint before leaping out in front of the couple. She landed in a crouch disturbingly close to the ground, before uncoiling upwards, her long limbs unfurling into something resembling a threatening posture. She looked crazed, wearing a mad expression on her scarred, green albi face. In her right hand she held a wicked looking knife; Her left held nothing, but was contorted in a strange way, as if she was strangling the life out of an imaginary goose. Her clothes were disheveled, with a white tunic that was too small for her worn under a brown vest that was too big, but her dark ashen hair was well kept, cut to chin length at its apex and parted sharply to the side.

The woman had frozen completely, but the man had straightened his posture and puffed out his chest slightly, as if he was thinking of trying something. Kajulan decided to shut that down real quick.

"Oh no no no no no no," she said, waggling her knife at him. "I know you want to protect your lady friend here, but I'm the one with the knife."

The man bristled but deflated, while the woman turned to him, a sad look on her face. "She looks poor. Let's just give her what she wants."

"Ah, the brains of the operation," said Kajulan, as she began to circle them. The robbery was going well, which she liked, but it was also starting to feel like charity, which she didn't like. She glanced up and down at them. "You two are traveling pretty light, you know."

"Just in case we get accosted by some dirty ruffian," replied the man through gritted teeth, receiving a swift elbow from the woman for his trouble. It was at this moment that Kajulan noticed a glint of silver from the lady's finger. She lurched forward, grabbing the woman's wrist and bringing it to her face.

"Ooh," admired Kajulan. "That's a nice ring."

The man bristled once again. "Nope!" he exclaimed.

"Dek, enough!" snapped the woman. "If she wants the ring she can have it. It's just a thing."

Kajulan didn't have to be told twice, sliding the ring to the top of the woman's finger before flipping it off with her thumb. The woman in turn made a face somewhere between a smile and a grimace, but kept her composure

Kajulan took a moment to admire the shiny thing, before sliding it onto her own finger. It was nice. Almost a shame she'd have to sell it. But opportunities like this didn't just fall into one's lap in her line of work. They walked past you, along an abandoned pier on the outskirts of the city.

Kajulan turned to look at the young couple once more, giving a brief salute with the same hand that now wore the ring before running off, her bony frame disappearing with remarkable speed through the gap between two buildings.
 
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Part 2: Live Hard and Die Young
Kajulan emerged slowly from between two buildings, not out of an abundance of caution, but rather because the gap between them was quite a bit smaller on this side than it was on the other. Regardless, she did eventually manage to squeeze her way through, nearly overextending and flinging herself to the ground in the process. She didn't though, and continued on her way.

Kajulan broke into a brisk walk, once again not out of an abundance of caution in regards to the robbery she had just committed, but rather because she was excited. She had a score, something actually worth selling. It made her feel like a big time crook, a big shot, and now she was on her way to see her guy. She thought it was neat that she had a guy; That also made her feel like a big shot.

Of course, her guy was nothing more than a petty fence, a necessity in her line of work. It wasn't because Uruda's merchants were particularly honest. It was just really hard to convince them to buy stuff based on the vague hope they'd be able to make a quick turnaround with it, even when it was something of actual value. But her guy always bought her stuff, even when it was worthless. Because that was just the kind of stand-up fence he was.

Kajulan stopped in front of a short-roofed brick building and entered. A bell hanging from the doorway rang as she did so, and Kajulan squeezed her eyes shut, stifling a sneeze. Two shelves ran down the center of the room, in addition to two more mounted on the wall, all piled high with knickknacks and novelties caked in several years of dust. The building was ostensibly an antique shop, but everything in it was thoroughly worthless. Not that it mattered, of course. The shop was just a front after all.

Kajulan marched confidently to the desk at the back of the shop, and placed her elbow on the only non-dusty surface in the place. She began to tap her fingers impatiently, looking around for the store's proprietor.

"Eh-hem," Kajulan enunciated. She waited patiently for a response before trying again. "Rudim! Get the hell out here! I have something to show you!"

There was a loud crash, followed by desperate shuffling and the backroom door swinging open. In the doorway stood a rotund man, albi like Kajulan, with pronounced cheekbones and the hint of a beard. He seemed short next to her, although in reality she was simply quite tall for a woman.

"Kajulan!" exclaimed the man, waving at her jovially. "The last time I saw you there was still snow on the ground! How has it been?"

"Rudim, look!" exclaimed Kajulan, ignoring his question. She held the ring out in front of her, and Rudim leaned in, squinting to get a better look at it.

"Oh, that is nice," he said. "May I take a closer look?" Kajulan complied, handing off the ring to Rudim, who held it between his thumb and index. "Silver with gold inlay," he continued. "Oh, and that's interesting. See the looping pattern that repeats around it? That's Ulkaski in design. I'd reckon this came all the way down from the mountains to get to us."

"Neat," lied Kajulan. "So what's it worth?"

"Oh, quite a bit," Rudim answered. "And I could sell it for even more."

Kajulan perked up, removing her elbow from the desk in the process. Quite a bit was a lot of money, she assumed, and she could get a bunch of cool stuff with it, probably.

"But I'm afraid I can't buy it from you."

Rudim flicked the ring back at Kajulan, who didn't react, the tiny thing bouncing off her dumbstruck forehead.

"What?" she asked. "Why not!?"

Rudim didn't answer, disappearing into the backroom again, and Kajulan returned to her agitated posture from before, elbow on desk and fingers tapping away.

Rudim returned, this time holding a small wooden crate in front of him, filled to the brim with what seemed to be junk, though of a different kind than that which lined the shop's walls.

"I'm leaving Kajulan," he said. "Getting out of the business while I can."

"You mean you're retiring?" asked Kajulan.

"That is what that means, yes."

Kajulan sunk her face into her hand, and shook her head disapprovingly. "Well? Why? Why are you leaving? Why now?"

Rudim looked at her sadly. "The city's changing, kid. There just isn't room for independent roguery anymore. Just last season a tajkyn man named Jethin began making moves, setting up a turf. Real feudal-types they have down in the South, and they don't like competition."

"Jethin doesn't sound very tajkyn," replied Kajulan, still sulking.

"I don't think it's his real name," said Rudim. He rapidly shook his head. "Look, that's not the point. The point is people in our line of work don't last very long. You either get out while you can, or you live hard and die young. And I haven't lived nearly hard enough to die now." Rudim sat his crate on the desk. "That Jethin guy, he offered to buy me out instead of running me out, and I'm happy to take it. I'd rather spend the rest of my life up North on the beach, sipping fancy wines under a frond tree, than tied to a rock underneath a river somewhere."

Kajulan opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a chime as someone else entered the building. It was another albi man, although done up quite differently than either Rudim or Kajulan. He wore a metal kettle hat on his head and a pale long coat draped over his body, which was covered with rivets from top to bottom. The helmet looked real, if not crude, but the thinness of the coat betrayed its rivets as purely decorative. Overall a real wannabe-soldier looking type.

"Well then. . ." the man began, pausing to glance at a small paper note in his hand. ". . . Rudim. Jethin's fulfilled his end of the bargain. Time's up. Let's go."

Rudim shook his head and chuckled. "Just a moment please, but thank you for your patience." He slung the wooden crate beneath his arm, and picked the ring up from off the desk, handing it to Kajulan. "Hold on to this. I may not be buying it, but it's still worth something. And you never know when the opportunity will present itself."

The other man's impatience grew, as he grabbed the bell from the door and began to ring it aggressively. "Alright Rudim! That's enough stalling! Enough heart-to-heart! It's time to go! Now!"

Rudim shook his head at the display but began to head out regardless, although he stopped at the door, turning back to look at Kajulan.

"It's been a good run, but I'm out of it now." He gave a brief salute. "Have a nice life kid."

Rudim left, and the other man closed the door behind him. He marched up to the front of the store, standing beside Kajulan with his hands on his hips, glancing around proudly as if he had accomplished something. Kajulan looked him up and down incredulously, until he finally acknowledged her existence and turned towards her.

"You too," he sneered, gesturing behind himself with his thumb. "Get."
 
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Part 3: And That Thing was Crime
Kajulan wandered through the street aimlessly. And dizzy. She didn't know why she was dizzy, but she was. You didn't enter her line of work to make friends, but it was still upsetting for Rudim to just leave like that. And now she wasn't even sure if Rudim considered her a friend, which made her sad.

Kajulan stopped, crouching on the side of the road and trying to catch her bearings. The city had wide streets, built to accommodate great wagons that no longer graced them, but right now they felt kind of claustrophobic and suffocating. She grabbed her arms and began to rub them. It was still cold, even though it should have begun to warm up at least a week ago. That made her angry. She slammed her fist down on the brick road, which only resulted in hurting her hand.

As she began to nurse the mild wound, Kajulan wondered if maybe it was better that she brought her anger down upon something more constructive, like a person. She briefly thought about the wannabe mercenary from earlier, but decided against it. He seemed dangerous, in a brutish sort of way, and she was pretty sure she would die.

Kajulan continued to stew, and was so busy doing so that she almost didn't notice the chalky-skinned yilgez man who had just passed her. She didn't get a good look at him, but something about him had instilled that feeling in her that she somehow knew him. She hopped up and ran over, tapping him on the shoulder. The young man turned to face her.

"Hello?" he said briskly, although in a way more confused than rude. Kajulan continued to look him up and down, trying to figure out who he was. He was a bit taller than her, and quite a bit broader, and his face had a certain youthful roundness to it that somehow broke through the otherwise sharp nature of his yilgez features.

"Do I know you?" asked the young man.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," replied Kajulan. She abruptly grabbed his chin and used it to forcibly turn his head. She was lucky he wasn't of a violent disposition. If someone had done the same to her, she probably would've snapped their fingers, but Tekole took it like a champ.

"Tekole!" Kajulan exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "That's it!" The man simply continued to stare at her. "That is your name, isn't it?"

"Y-yes," answered the man. "But I don't know you."

"Oh, come on," said Kajulan. She cocked her head and spread her arms. "I recognized you. Now you need to recognize me!"

Tekole leaned in to observe her, getting awkwardly close in the process. As if anything could be awkward after she shook his head like a lever.

A look of conceited discontent came across her face. "It's Kajulan, Tekole."

Tekole leaped back, as if in shock. "Kajulan? You're really Kajulan?"

Now Kajulan was a little taken aback. She had no idea she had been so popular in her youth.

"In the flesh," she replied, doing a little curtsy. Tekole continued to stand their flabbergasted, while Kajulan stared aloofly into the distance, contemplating what this meant for her sense of self-conceptualization.

"Kajulan, we all thought you were dead."

She jerked back to face him. "What? Why?"

Tekole's shoulders hunched, taking an explanatory posture. "You ran away. And when you didn't come back, everybody was saying it was probably because you died."

Kajulan's index finger shot up. "Alright, first of all, I didn't run away. We were wards of the state, not prisoners. I just grew up. And second of all." She stopped in thought. ". . . I'm not dead."

Tekole slowly nodded. "That's good."

"Thank you. I think so too."

A moment passed in silence.

"Well . . . goodbye."

Tekole began to leave, but Kajulan shot her arm out, catching him. "Wait wait wait wait wait. We've just been reunited after years of not seeing each other. You can't just leave."

"We never really talked at all."

Tekole went to leave again, but Kajulan stepped in front of him, blocking him completely. "But we did live under the same roof. Surely that counts for something."

Tekole nodded in agreement, but tried to leave again regardless, this time successfully sidestepping Kajulan. He only managed to get a few steps away before Kajulan came up with something else.

"Don't you want to know what I've been doing since I left?"

Tekole stopped and turned around, and Kajulan ran the short distance back over to him. "Alright," she began. "So obviously I left, "ran away," as you put it. But I had to. I mean, I was sick of it there. Keep your hair up, stay inside, eat, sleep, repeat. And for what? So we could be filtered into some failing scroll mill? I think not!"

"I work in a scroll mill."

Kajulan stopped for a moment, but ultimately decided not to directly respond to his interjection. "I decided there was something better for me out there. Something more exciting. And that thing was crime."

Tekole's eyes widened. "Kajulan, you can't commit crime! That's against the law!"

"I can, and I do," replied Kajulan, embarrassingly smug about her acts of petty civil disobedience.

"But Kajulan, you could get thrown in jail!"

Kajulan waved her hand dismissively. "Pfft. By who? The town guard is practically nonexistent, and the Satrap sure as hell doesn't care. I'm more likely to be left butchered in the street by some noble's personal bodyguard than arrested."

"That doesn't sound better!"

Kajulan shrugged. "It's a matter of perspective, I guess. But I don't mind the danger. In fact, I've had a few close calls already." She pointed to two gashes, one in her lip and one below her eyelid. "See these? Got them from some lady who said I was moving in on her turf. Thought she was unarmed. She wasn't."

Tekole responded in turn, sliding his left shoulder out of his collar and revealing the remains of a burn. "I got this when one of those scroll-things we make exploded. Big ball of fire. It wasn't even supposed to involve fire."

Kajulan grinned wildly, and slid her right shoulder from her shirt, the remains of a long cut running accross it. "Saw a man who was just standing there on the side of the road, fat coin-purse loosely hanging from his belt. He had a sword hanging from it too, but I was sure that if I got in and out quickly I could outrun him. Turns out I was right; I could outrun him, but I couldn't outrun the length of his sword."

"Ouch," said Tekole.

"That's what I said too!"

Tekole rolled his left sleeve up to his elbow, revealing several nasty gashes along his arm. "We were doing something with copper wire. I still don't really understand it. But the wire got wrapped around my arm as we were spinning it with this rod thing. Older guy who works there said I was lucky. Said that someone got their whole arm ripped off in a similar accident."

Kajulan reached out to poke the wound, but Tekole recoiled.

"Well, I've been shot!" Kajulan exclaimed proudly. She rolled her shirt and vest up above her stomach, revealing a mostly healed puncture wound in her side. "Little asshole was a better shot than I gave him credit for."

Tekole put his hands up. "Alright, you win."

He chuckled lightly, and Kajulan shoved him playfully. "Hey, it sounds like you've had some bad ones too."

Tekole looked down. "Yeah, I guess so."

Kajulan glanced away, a thought entering her mind. "You know Tekole, something's come up recently. Something that could involve a pretty big score, if you're interested."

Tekole shook his head. "I don't think so. Too dangerous."

Kajulan clasped her forehead. "Tekole, you said you were in an explosion! How much more dangerous could this be?!" She shoved him again, this time a little more roughly. "Come on, live a little. I've been doing this for years, and I'm not dead!"

Tekole looked away in thought, before turning back towards her and nodding. "You're right. You aren't dead . . . Alright, I'll do it!"

Kajulan beamed and clasped her hands together. "Excellent!" She reached around Tekole, putting an arm on his uninjured shoulder. "Now, let me tell you what I'm thinking."
 
Part 4: The Thing You Said You've Been Sitting On
Kajulan waited outside behind Rudim's shop, for what reason she wasn't really sure. No one ever went to this part of town, especially this late at night, and the shop itself wasn't exactly hopping, before or after the takeover. Staking out a place was just something it felt like you were supposed to do before a robbery.

In all fairness, it was more thought than she had put into the rest of her plan. There wasn't even much evidence that there was actually a big score to be had. She knew that the mercenary fellow had acted like he was in a big hurry, implying something important was going down. . . and that was it. Not that it mattered. Kajulan really only wanted an excuse to beat up that guy who had been so rude to her earlier.

Tekole was crouched down besides her, rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes. She wasn't sure if the repetitive motion was borne out of nervousness or excitement, but she chose to believe the latter, since that was the more personally convenient explanation. She jerked her head, motioning for Tekole to move to the side of the building. He did so, and Kajulan moved forward, stopping at the building's back entrance. She took a deep breath, straightened out her clothes, and moved her left arm to rest firmly behind her back, as if she was hiding a knife. With her right she struck the door, in a motion more like a punch than a knock.

The door slammed open, and standing there was the man who had thrown her out earlier.

"Oh, thank all the gods you're here," he said. "It's been nerve-wracking just sitting on this. . ." He stopped, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Kajulan. "Oh, it's you. Screw off!"

He went to close the door but Kajulan stopped him, grabbing the rim and forcing it open.

"No," she said.

The man swung the door fully open, this time stepping out with it, and Kajulan recoiled ever so slightly. He looked a lot bigger and scarier when he wasn't just being annoying. He smirked and threw his coat back, revealing on his left a sword that he probably didn't know how to use, and on his right a revolver that he almost certainly did. He began to tap the hilt of his gun. "I would say I don't want to have to use this, but that would be lying. So I suggest you get lost."

Kajulan shook her head, and the man finally took notice of the arm hidden behind her back.

"What are you holding?" he asked, stepping forward. Kajulan just shook her head again, and the man grabbed her arm, forcing it in front of her. "What are you doing?" he asked, staring at the empty grip.

Before he had time to react further a fist came flying in, striking him on the side of the head and sending him sprawling to the ground. Immediately Kajulan moved in, clambering on top of him and drawing a knife to his throat.

"Grab his belt!" she ordered. Tekole quickly removed it, and Kajulan stood back up, keeping the knife pointed towards the man as she did so. "Alright, now give it to me," Tekole handed it over. "And hold this." She handed the knife over to Tekole, who cautiously took it as if he had never seen one before in his life. Kajulan wrapped the belt around her, but even as tightly wound as possible it was still much too big for her, and fell awkwardly low on her hips. She thought it looked kind of cool though, so that was okay.

"Alright," she said, drawing the gun from its holster. "Get up."

The look of malice on the man's face was palpable, but he did as he was told. Kajulan motioned for him to turn around, and pressed the barrel against the square of his back. The three entered the building, Tekole closing the door behind them.

Even in the darkness of night the place felt familiar to Kajulan. The shop was mostly untouched, and the same overpowering smell of dust remained. It was was lit by only a few candles, probably dug out from beneath some pile of junk by the man currently being held at gunpoint.

Tekole stopped, grabbing from a shelf a stick with what appeared to be a crudely carved face on it. He showed it to Kajulan.

"What is this? Is it worth anything?"

"No," whispered Kajulan. "But it's kind of cool. You should keep it."

Tekole nodded and placed it into his pocket, while the mercenary sighed heavily.

"You knoooow," he said. "I was meeting someone here, and they're going to be aaaaarmed."

"Well theeeen, guess we'll just need to go fast, won't weeeee," hissed Kajulan. "Now, where is it!?"

"What's it?"

Kajulan pushed the barrel of the gun harder against his back. "You know what it is! The thing you said you were sitting on!"

The man sighed again, a rage boiling beneath him, but he also decided that he didn't like the idea of getting shot. "First shelf on the right from the front door," he said. "Beneath the Bagkyn standard." Kajulan stared blankly, and neither her or Tekole responded to the statement. "Standard means flag. It's beneath the flag."

"Ahhhhhhhhh," replied Kajulan. She jerked her head towards the front. "Tekole, go grab whatever it is."

Tekole nodded and ran off, returning after a short commotion with a small locked chest under his arm. It almost looked like a wooden jewelry box, if a bit less ornate. Tekole shook the thing enthusiastically, and it produced the sound of metal clinking.

"Key?" Kajulan asked, poking her hostage in the back again.

"No key," he responded.

"That's fine." Kajulan withdrew the gun, handing it over to Tekole. "Watch him. I think Rudim had some rope in the back, assuming he didn't take it with him. I'll be right back."

Kajulan left, leaving Tekole awkwardly clutching the assortment of things she had assigned for him to hold. The mercenary stared him down. A brave man would've taken such an opportunity to strike back against his captors.

Kajulan returned, rope in hand. "Alright Mr. mercenary," she said. "Down on the ground, up against that shelf over there."

If looks could kill Kajulan would've been dead, but they can't so the man did as he was told. Kajulan knelt down beside him and began to tie the rope, running it around the shelf and from shoulder to shoulder. A moment later she stood back up, and Tekole passed the gun over to her. The two looked down at the man, taking a moment to admire her handiwork.

"It looks kind of loose," said Tekole. "You sure that will hold him?"

Kajulan considered the question. "No," she said. "But I think Mr. mercenary here understands that if he frees himself too soon, or tries to follow us, he gets shot." She poked the man's kettle hat with the gun, using it to prop up the rim. "Don'tcha?"

The man looked up at her, and then over at Tekole. "Can you two please just leave now?"
 
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Part 5: I'll Find You
The two scofflaws ran through the darkened streets of Uruda, Kajulan leading the way while Tekole followed, not really sure where they were going. The stone road sent them along a series of twists and turns until at last they came to the edge of the city, silhouettes of buildings replaced with the vast expanse of the sea. Kajulan ran out onto the pier, swinging around at its edge and leaning against the railing elbows first. The ocean backlit her, its light turning her skin a shade of blue. Tekole stopped in front of her, the stolen box still clutched in his hands.

"So," began Kajulan, speaking between gasping breaths. "What did you think?"

"About what?" Tekole asked.

Kajulan chuckled and shoved him. "About the robbery we just committed, you lug!"

"Oh, right." Tekole walked over beside her, facing the ocean and hanging his arms over the railing. "In all honesty, it was less scary than I though it would be."

"Really?" Kajulan asked, still staring forward as she caught her breath.

"I mean, I was kind of nervous at the start, but then I punched that guy, and you took his gun, and then he just kind of gave up.

Kajulan nodded and smiled. "Heh, yeah." She glanced over at Tekole, and then down at the box in his hands. "You know, probably don't want to be dangling that over the open-ocean."

"Oh yeah. Probably not." Tekole turned around to face the same direction as Kajulan, and then looked down at the box. "So, how are we getting this open?"

"I'll handle it," said Kajulan, snatching the box from him.

"You know how to lock pick?" Tekole asked, thoroughly impressed.

Kajulan tsked at him. "Lock picking is for dainty burglars afraid to get their hands dirty." She raised the box above her head, and then flung it against the ground as hard as she could. It splintered as it hit the ground, it's contents spilling out across the ground. The two knelt down, observing their prize.

"Is. . . that it?" asked Tekole.

Kajulan gestured towards the ground dramatically. "I mean, it's money Tekole. Isn't that what you we're expecting?"

"Well, yeah." Tekole picked up one of the coins, viewing it from between his fingers. "I guess I was just expecting, more of it."

Kajulan shrugged. "I mean, it's still a "something nice" amount of money, isn't it?" Tekole looked at her, confused. "Never mind. Here." She eyeballed the pile, and scooted about half of it over towards Tekole. "There's your share."

Tekole picked up another one of the coins. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "This one has a boat on it!"

"Aw, cool!" replied Kajulan, relieved that he no longer seemed disappointed.

Tekole looked up from his half of the loot and stared at her. Kajulan tilted her head.

"Hey," he said. "Can I have the sword?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." She unbuckled the sheath from the belt and tossed it over to him. "Knock yourself out."

Tekole admired the cheap blade for a moment, before shimmying on his knees over to the railing. Kajulan followed.

"You know," he said. "It's been a while since I've actually looked out at the ocean."

Kajulan took a moment to reply, briefly mesmerized by the shining sun beneath the waves. "It's been a while for me too."

"Hey Kajulan?" asked Tekole.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really just need me to punch a guy?"

Kajulan turned towards him and smiled. "I mean, yeah. I guess so."

Tekole turned away from the ocean and towards her. He began to laugh, and then Kajulan began to laugh too, in the way that one does when something isn't really funny, but the laughter itself is infectious.

Eventually the laughing died down, Kajulan wheezing out a final chortle, and both her and Tekole were left looking at each other.

Kajulan leaned in and kissed him, her hand grabbing his chin again, like it had earlier in the day. She felt him move forward slightly, his face pressing against hers. After a brief moment she withdrew, but remained close enough to feel his breath touching hers.

She swung around. "Well, I'll, see you tomorrow. We'll come up with something cool for you to spend your earnings on."

Tekole scratched at the back of his neck. "Oh, okay. Yeah. We'll do that tomorrow."

Kajulan shoved the coins from her share into her pockets and stood up. "Yeah, tomorrow, that's the plan." She began to back up. "Don't worry about a meeting place, I'll find you."

Tekole barely had the chance to nod before Kajulan ran off, disappearing into the night. He watched as she left, before sighing and turning back towards the sea.
 
Part 6: I Told You I Would Find You
Tekole jerked awake. He wasn't sure what had woken him. He thought back to the most recent dream he had, but it wasn't that. That dream had been idyllic, whatever it was. Then a sharp sound hit him, a repetitive knocking breaking through the haze. He looked across his room, at the front door.

Tekole stood, rousing himself the rest of the way as he did so, and walked over to the entrance. He stopped before opening the door and looked down at his long white tunic, making sure it was buttoned upwards and downwards as much as possible. He didn't want to expose any undue flesh to the city, because that was just the kind of stand-up guy he was.

Once suitably satisfied with the covering of any shame he opened the door, and jumped at seeing Kajulan there. "Heeeeeey," she hissed, but in a kindly, playful sort of way. "I told you I would find you."

Tekole looked around wildly. She had said that, but he had also kind of been in a daze at the time, so it hadn't fully registered. "How'd you find me?" he asked.

"It wasn't really hard," answered Kajulan, shrugging. "I mean, we grew up in the same place, and you work at the factory that just so happened to open up right next to it. I figured you'd live in the adjacent apartment complex."

"But how'd you know which room was mine?"

This question did cow Kajulan a little, and she looked down at her feet. "I just . . . went through the place, knocking on doors until you opened one."

"We're on the second floor."

Kajulan threw her arms up. "I know! Look, that's unimportant." She pointed her finger at Tekole. "What's important, is that, we find something to spend your hard earned money on!"

Kajulan crossed her arms, satisfied at the deflection, but the words passed right through Tekole, who had begun gazing up at the sky. "What time is it?" he asked, a hint of concern dripping from his voice.

"Late enough that the people whose doors I've been knocking on were only mildly pissed. Why?"

Tekole clasped his head with both hands. "I'm late!" he shouted. He looked behind himself. "I need to go get dressed."

Tekole turned to leave, but Kajulan grabbed his shoulders. "Tekole," she cooed. "Calm down. Everything's going to be okay. Now look." She let go of him. "Did we not steal more than a day's worth of your wages?"

"We did."

"And does your boss really care about you specifically, or are you just a body filling space?"

Tekole thought. "A body."

"So, what's the big deal with missing a day?"

Tekole paused for a moment, a symphony of thought and expression playing out on his otherwise stony face. Then he nodded. "Alright," he said, just as easily convinced today as he had been the day before. "I'll play hooky."

Kajulan clasped her forehead. "Tekole! We are grown adults. You aren't playing hooky."

"What would you call it then?"

"I don't know, but it's not hooky. Now let's go." The two began to leave, but Kajulan stopped, looking Tekole over. "Actually," she said. "Probably should still get dressed."

Tekole looked down at himself. "Oh, right right."

He took a step back, but before he went in all the way Kajulan peered around him, staring into his room. It was quite dark and quite empty, the only furnishings being a small bed in the corner, with a foot chest at its end and a stool beside it, ostensibly serving as a nightstand. "So this is where you live, huh?" she asked.

"Hey!" replied Tekole, shifting himself in the doorway to block her view. Kajulan put her hands up.

"Okay, okay! Just go get dressed. I'll be waiting here."

"It'll just be a few minutes."

Tekole stepped backwards and began to gingerly shut the door. Kajulan waved awkwardly at him, and Tekole did so in turn, before finally closing the door.
 
Part 7: Just a Thing Outlaws Do
It had been more than a few minutes. Kajulan leaned back against the railing, her hands grasping the bars and her feet tapping. What was taking Tekole so long? She barely changed clothes at all when she slept, even including the giant belt and holster she was still wearing. Which probably explained the sore hip.

Finally the door opened, and Tekole walked out. He was actually relatively well dressed, within his means. He wore a tunic, darker than his sleepwear, reaching down to his elbows and knees and separated at the waist by a belt. His trousers were neatly tucked into his boots, and even his curly hair had something done to it, but what exactly Kajulan did not know.

"You look . . . nice," she said, not sure why the words were so hard to force out.

"Oh, thank you," replied Tekole, his grey cheeks darkening. "You look . . ."

"Alright, let's go!" interrupted Kajulan, already on the move. "We've got a lot to do today."

The two walked down the stairs, and Tekole stopped as they reached the bottom.

"So," he began. "About last night."

"What about last night?" asked Kajulan, playing dumb. Dumbly.

Tekole sheepishly began playing with the back of his hair. "Well, it's just, you did kiss me."

Kajulan waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, that? Pfft. Don't worry about it. That, that's just a thing outlaws do. No need to even think about it."

"Oh," replied Tekole. "Okay."

Kajulan turned back around. "So," she continued, drumming her fingers together and working quickly to change the subject. "Put any more thought into what you want to do with your share?"

"Well," said Tekole, as the two began to walk again. "If I'm playing hook." He caught himself. "Not going to work today, I'll need to use part of it to cover rent."

"Tekole!" shouted Kajulan. "Stop talking about rent! You don't rob people with guns and swords in order to pay rent! I don't pay rent!"

A concerned look came across Tekole's face, and he looked down at her. "Kajulan," he asked. "Are you homeless?"

"What? No. I stay at inns sometimes."

"I don't think that counts."

"Sure it does! I'm nomadic, like those Ruki guys."

"I don't think that's the same thing either."

Kajulan flipped her hands out. "And why not? Because they have nice tents? Well, I sometimes stay at this cute little bed and breakfast outside town, so I sleep in nice places too."

Tekole suddenly stopped, and Kajulan took a few paces to notice. "What if the boss does fire me?" he asked, more to himself than Kajulan. "What happens then?"

Kajulan backtracked towards him. "Then we'll just knock over some other schmuck." She crossed her arms. "You know, I don't even know why you're still talking about going back to work at that mill. You're a wanted man now Tekole."

Tekoles eyebrows shot up. "Wanted? I thought you said the town guard didn't care what we did."

"They don't! But I'm not talking about the town guard. I'm talking about the two-bit mob boss we just ripped off."

Tekole straightened, and then began to freak out, which confused Kajulan. She had assumed that Tekole understood the gravity and consequences of their actions. But she also thought that hissing in a kindly, playful manner was a thing people did, so she clearly wasn't the best judge of this sort of thing.

"Hey, hey," she said, patting him on the back. "It's okay. I mean, look at me. Plenty of people have wanted to kill me, and I'm not dead."

"Dead!" exclaimed Tekole. "I didn't know you meant they were going to kill us! I thought you meant they were going to throw us in a dungeon or something!"

Now Kajulan was showing concern. Her attempt to calm Tekole had done the opposite of its intended effect, and that upset her. She took a deep breath. "Look," she said. "Don't worry about it. These mob types, they have short memories."

Kajulan had no idea what she was talking about, but it seemed to be working. "Really?" asked Tekole, calm but seemingly reluctant to stay that way.

"Of course! They'd be too busy with all their revenge killings and stuff otherwise." Kajulan clasped her hands and leaned in. "Now, let me ask you a question. You ever been to the city's bazaar before?"

"No," answered Tekole, shaking his head.

"Then let's go!" Kajulan grabbed his arm and began to pull him. "I think it's time we start lightening the load from last night."
 
Part 8: At Cost, Three Leaf
The bazaar was actually kind of depressing. Even at the peak of the day it was relatively empty. Its peach colored stone walls were worn and faded, and colorful painted tiles had been plied up from the ground, sold off for a quick buck.

But Kajulan thought the place was pretty amazing, and Tekole, not knowing what to expect, mirrored her enthusiasm. She ran up to a long dry white fountain in the middle of the plaza and hopped in, leaning against its centerpiece.

"I've always loved this thing," said Kajulan, resting her elbow atop it. "It's fun to climb."

Tekole walked over, putting one foot up on its rim. "Oh," he said. "That is fun."

Kajulan looked around, scanning the present merchants. She gasped and pointed towards a stand at the far end of the plaza. "Ooh, ooh!" she said. "That one's fun! Come with me."

Kajulan dismounted from the centerpiece and hopped out of the fountain. Tekole began to follow, but stopped when he heard someone calling him over. He turned to see a vendor waving at him from his stand, a nassu man with skin alternating between brilliant shades of orange and black.

"Silum friend," said the man, reaching out with his hand.

"Hi," Tekole replied meekly.

The man reached out further, bending over his stand in the process, and took Tekole's hand. "So," asked the man. "What can I do for you today?"

"I don't know," answered Tekole. "You called me over."

The man nodded rapidly. "Yes yes yes, of course." He looked up at Tekole's face, squinting. "Where are your tattoos?" he asked.

Tekole tilted his head. "Tattoos?"

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. It's just, I've never seen a Yilgez without something on their face before. I was curious."

Tekole reached up, running his hand along his cheek. "I don't know. I guess I just never had the chance to get any."

"Oh," the man replied simply. His face turned sad, afraid he had touched on an hitherto unknown sore spot. He hopped under his stand, and after a moment of rummaging, emerged with a small jar. "Here," he said, placing it on the wooden plank between them. "This is a beautiful yellow ochre, refined in the East. Perfect for your complexion. You can have it at cost, three leaf."

"Hey!" hollered a voice from across the plaza. Tekole looked over. Although it was coming from the booth Kajulan was currently at, it was not her yelling, which surprised him. "These two were together! Stop poaching my customers!"

"Quiet sister!" the man shouted back. "I am trying to have a heart-to-heart with this poor boy!" He looked back at Tekole, and gave a tired smile. "Two leaf."

Tekole reached into his pocket and withdrew a few coins, careful not to give away the cool one with a boat on it. He wasn't sure why he wanted the dye. In all honesty he kind of just felt obligated at this point.

Kajulan walked over. She held half a watermelon rind in her hands, with two wooden spoons sticking out of it.

"What'd you get?" she asked.

"Oh, this," replied Tekole, holding up the jar.

"Neat," Kajulan said, her curiosity already spent. She held up the rind. "Sweet melon?" Tekole shook his head, which just made Kajulan gesture with the melon more aggressively. "Tekole, you need to have some. It's like, all cream. I can't eat all of it."

Tekole gave in and took one of the spoons, while Kajulan returned to her scanning. She pointed again, this time at a shop built into the wall, barely visible as more than a door and window. "That one next!" she said. "It's fun too!" She ran off, leaving Tekole with the half-eaten rind.

. . .

Kajulan entered the shop followed closely by Tekole, snack dutifully still in hand. Windowed shelfs ran parallel to half the walls, which themselves were adorned with a eclectic collection of items. The turquoise-skinned tajkyn woman at the counter, who had been half asleep before they entered, shot up and ran over to them. "Welcome!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement at having customers. "Welcome to Southern Imports! How can I help you?" The woman was dressed in a clearly Southern fashion, with a colorful dress that reached down to her ankles and her red hair done up in a traditional style, but her accent betrayed her as clearly local.

"Knives?" asked Kajulan, as if it was the most normal question in the world. The woman stepped aside, motioning towards one of the display cases, and Kajulan ran over, almost pushing her nose against the glass as she admired them. "So they really use all these in the South?" she asked.

"Yes," lied the woman, not a hint of remorse in her voice.

While Kajulan continued to survey the assortment of cheap bladeware, Tekole walked through the rest of the shop. Most of it was unbelievably kitsch, although a small statue did catch his eye. It depicted the silhouette of a man, featureless and with chisel in hand, bent over a stone tablet.

"How much for this?" asked Tekole.

The store owner ran over. "Oh yes, an excellent choice! Fine craftsmenship from Kurgal. A carved stone by a carved people." She looked at Tekole. "Twenty leaf."

. . .

The two left the store, Kajulan spinning new knife around her finger, and Tekole gingerly holding the small statue in his hands. He had absentmindedly left the sweet melon behind when he went to pay, but the shop owner was too focused on closing the sale to worry about it.

"So, what'd you get?" asked Kajulan, glancing down at the little man Tekole had held out in front of him.

"A statue," replied Tekole.

"I see that! I meant what is it a statue of?"

Tekole thought for a moment. "It's a guy called the Carver. A god, actually. My parents had a statue of him like this."

Kajulan looked at him and smiled sincerely. There was a moment of silence, eventually broken as Kajulan began spinning the knife around her finger again. "This is what I got," she said. She stopped spinning the sheathed blade and grasped its handle. "It's like a normal knife, but it has brass knuckles too!"

Tekole leaned in. "Huh. I don't really see how you'd use that."

Kajulan leaped back, taking an aggressive posture and bobbing back and forth, while at the same time ignoring confused stares from the handful of other people in the plaza. "It's really simple. They come at you thinking you just have a knife, see? So they try to maneuver around it and bam!" She punched the air. "Right in the face." She began to waggle the knife at Tekole. "Come on, let me show you! Try and get me."

Tekole placed the statue under one arm and watched for a moment before moving in, easily grabbing her with the other and lifting her up.

"Okay, okay!" giggled Kajulan. "It doesn't work." Tekole dropped her, and Kajulan took a moment to straighten out her outfit. "So?" she asked. "What's next?" Tekole only replied with a shrug, which was fine with Kajulan. She had decided already anyways. "You ever gambled?" she asked. Tekole nodded, which surprised her a bit. She had been ready to introduce him to another sin.

"Yeah. Just with some other people from work. I was never very good at it though."

"That's okay," said Kajulan. "It's more about the locale than the game anyways, and I know a pretty good place. It's a ways away, but it's worth it."

The two began to walk, Kajulan with her hands in her pockets and Tekole back to his previous carrying method.

"So," asked Tekole. "Any gambling advice?"

"Well," began Kajulan. "Rudim always told me the trick was to not get get too greedy. Now that is true, you do loose less money if you don't . . ." Kajulan gestured towards herself. "But personally, I've found that you have more fun if you do."

"That's good advice," said Tekole.

"Yes. It is."
 
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Part 9: Didn't Check for Knives
The casino was pretty nondescript. The stones that made up its walls were darker and less colorful than those found in the rest of the city's buildings, even with the light of the sunset shining down on it. Not that the blandness mattered, as the place didn't really need to advertise; People were kind of just drawn to it.

A single guard stood watch, although literally he was seated in a small chair pushed up against the wall, head tilted down and close to dosing off. He roused himself as Kajulan and Tekole approached, eyeing the belt and holster around the woman's waist.

"No weapons," he said, hopping up to attention. Although usually difficult, Kajulan complied, removing her belt and handing it to the man. He stepped aside, granting the two entrance, and Kajulan turned to Tekole as they passed him.

"Good thing he didn't check for knives," she whispered, although not nearly as quietly as she could have. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hand it over," said the guard. Kajulan sighed and reached into one of her pockets, pulling out the brass-knuckles-knife-contraptions and dropping it into the man's outstretched hand. He stepped aside again, and Kajulan and Tekole entered.

"Good thing he didn't check for my other knife," Kajulan whispered, this time much more quietly.



While from the outside the the casino looked like any other random building, inside was another story. The air was smokey and dimly lit, the result of incense burning over thick-paned lanterns, and stairs led down into a pit filled with a variety of gaming tables. The most notable difference however was that the place was absolutely bustling, with bets and drinks being rushed to and fro, and crowds of people from all walks of life clogged between tables. In fact, it was perhaps the only place in Uruda that brought the rich and poor together. The worker, in abject poverty, spent meager earnings on a moment of enjoyment, while the noble spent with reckless abandonment, doing their best to join them.

Kajulan stopped at one of the stairwells and motioned for Tekole to go first. He gripped the railings as he descended, the stairs unusually steep, perhaps a method of player retention. Once at the bottom he went over to one of the tables, less choosing it and more being shuffled there by the crowd.

"Ah yes," Kajulan said, slinking up beside him. "Good choice."

"Have you ever played this game before?" asked the woman running the table, the feigned interest in her voice obvious. She was dressed in trousers and a white blouse, with a burgundy vest fitted neatly over it. In all honesty, the outfit looked suspiciously like a more put together version of the one Kajulan wore.

Tekole simply stared ahead instead of answering, still intimated by the atmosphere of the place. Kajulan elbowed him. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head rapidly. The woman began to explain the rules, most of which traveled through Tekole's head with barely an ounce of recognition.

"Bet," said the woman. Tekole placed a spattering of change on the table, and the woman thrust a pair of dice into his hands. "Roll," she said. Tekole did as he was told and flung the dice at the table. They bounced a few times, before settling on their numbers.

"Congratulations!" said the woman. "You win!"

"Really?" asked Tekole. "I won?"

The woman nodded, and added several coins to the pile in front of Tekole. "Good job Tekole," said Kajulan, clapping him on the back. "You keep playing, I'm going to get us something to drink."

"Get something fancy," said Tekole, eagerness already creeping into his voice. "We're going to have to spend all this money on something."

Kajulan left and ascended the stairs, maneuvering through the throngs of people before coming to the bar.

"Hello," said the albi man tending the bar, delightfully stereotypical with rag and glass in hand. "What can I get you?"

"I don't know," replied Kajulan. She leaned forward and placed her arms on the bar. "Got anything fancy?"

The man put a finger up in the affirmative and went behind the bar's shelf, a moment later returning with an exquisitely shaped bottle. "Just got this in a week ago," he said. "Tajlyndic Brandy."

Kajulan eyed the bottle suspiciously. "How strong is it?"

The bartender looked the skin and bones woman in front of him up and down. "Very."

Kajulan stroked her chin. "Hmm. Better make it beer then. Two please."

Kajulan paid, and the bartender left again, replacing the fancy bottle with one much plainer. He filled two mugs from it and slid them over to Kajulan, who nodded in appreciation before leaving.

Almost Immediately she bumped into someone, and stumbled backwards a little bit. It was another albi man, although much older than her and rather short. The most notable thing about him however was his peculiar manner of dress, with a baggy black tunic worn beneath a squared black poncho, and a matching hat shaped like the kettle helmets that were common amongst the empire's soldiers.

"Sorry," said Kajulan. The man didn't respond, instead simply staring at her, an unreadable look on his face.

"What!?" Kajulan sneered, scrunching her shoulders and wagging her head aggressively. The man still didn't respond, so Kajulan simply huffed and left.



After shuffling through the crowd once again, Kajulan returned down the stairs and stood beside Tekole. "Hi," she said.

"I screwed up!" Tekole replied, not even turning to face her. "I screwed up real bad!"

"Woah woah woah," replied Kajulan, in her not-very-reassuring reassuring voice. "What happened?"

"I just kept putting down more money," began Tekole. "And I just kept winning. So I put down everything. . ." He paused for emphasis. ". . .Everything. And I lost! Really badly!"

"Don't worry," said Kajulan, brow furrowed. "I'll fix this." She left the table, and approached the burliest man in the pit. Faking a trip she spilt the mugs, splashing their contents across the man's back. He turned to face her, and Kajulan threw her hands up, cowering.

"Please!" she screamed. "Don't hurt me! It was an accident!"

"What?" asked the man, but Kajulan didn't answer, instead slinking away as people began to congregate around him.

"Is something wrong here?" sternly asked the most senior employee amongst the crowd.

The man slapped his hand to his forehead, a concerned expression on his face. "I don't know!"

Kajulan ran over to Tekole, and began sliding the money into one of the now empty mugs.

"But Kajulan," said Tekole. "That's not all mine. Some of it is winnings."

"Who cares," she replied callously. "This place sucks. Let's go."

Kajulan tugged at Tekole's arm, and the two clambered up the steep stairs, both silently grateful that they were tall.

The pair burst out the front door, startling the guard who had returned to his seat, Kajulan's belt and knife lying in his lap. "Hey!" he shouted. "What's going on?"

The two didn't stop to be confronted, but Kajulan did pluck her knife from him as they ran by.

"Sorry!" she said. "We were just leaving."
 
Part 10: Dead Soon Anyways
Rain began to fall from the night sky, perfectly timed to cover the two scofflaws' retreat. It had begun not as a drizzle but as a downpour, and would surely disorient any in pursuit. Tekole threw his arms over his head in an attempt to stay dry, but almost immediately the stinging cold on his bare skin forced him to drop them. Kajulan meanwhile barely even registered the downpour, drunk on adrenaline if not a drop of alcohol.

The two approached a corner, but before they could turn it an imposing figure stepped out, a giant of a tajkyn man dressed in tunic, poncho, and hat, an outfit that was a perfect match with that of the short man from the casino. For once in her life two and two clicked, and Kajulan's sense of self preservation kicked in. She swung around, pushing on Tekole's shoulder to force him to do so as well, but before they could start to run the short man from earlier stepped out, quickly moving to the center of the road.

It was here that, after causing one smart decision, Kajulan's newfound sense of self preservation forced a poor one. Perhaps it was simply a fear response born from recognition, perhaps the short man exuded an intimidating aura, or perhaps it was the aforementioned adrenaline drunkenness, but Kajulan decided to swing around again, and tried to force her way past the big man. She landed on the ground with a splash almost immediately, half thrown and half simply bouncing off the man's massive frame. Only through sheer will did she keep the money-filled tankard upright. Tekole responded aggressively, rushing at the big man with arms raised, but he too was thrown to the ground, with only a modicum more effort. He did not have the willpower to keep his grip, and the statue fell to the ground as well.

Kajulan, eyes closed to block out the rain, gritted her teeth and came to her feet. She dashed forward, drawing and striking with her good knife in one swift motion, and the blade sunk into the big man's hip. He shoved Kajulan away before she could withdraw it, but this time she kept her footing.

Tekole then stood, his niceish clothes thoroughly soaked, and threw his weight forward. He collided with the big man who, already shaken from the knife in his side, went tumbling to the ground. Kajulan pulled out her other knife, ready to go nuts with the built in knuckle dusters, but stopped when she heard a click behind her. Even through the downpour, she recognized it as the sound of a revolver shot being pushed into its barrel. She put her hands up, and Tekole, witnessing this, put his up as well.

"You need to drop the knife too," said the short man. Kajulan did so, and the short man ran over, picking it up as well as placing the statue of the Carver under his arm, the whole time keeping his gun trained on her. Meanwhile the big man slowly stood back up, and drew his own gun on Tekole.

Before anyone had a chance to speak further Kajulan turned to face the short man, shoving the money-filled tankard in his face as she did so. He broke gunpoint for only a second, shocked at the audacity of such a sudden movement, but quickly restored it.

"Look," said Kajulan, shaking the mug, the coins now sloshing more than jingling. "We still have all the money right here! You can have it back!"

The short man snatched it from her. "We will take that," he said. "But that's not why we're here."

At that Kajulan felt a lump in her stomach. She did not like the legitimate sense of fear she was experiencing. It was unpleasant.

"What are you here for then?" she asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"We don't need to tell you anything!" sneered the big man in a low voice, but the short one simply shook his head.

"No no, it's alright," he said. "No need to be difficult with people who will be dead soon anyways." He look up at both Kajulan and Tekole. "You see, that place you robbed belonged to a man named Jethin. That mercenary you socked was also under his employ. And that money you took was a very important payment, one that has now been severely delayed."

"Well," began Kajulan, somehow less fearful now that the dire situation had been spelt out for her. "The casino kind of loaded Tekole up before we ran off, so there's more money in that tankard now than what we originally stole. It should be enough to pay Jethin back, and then some!"

The short man stared at her, unmoved by her reasoning skills. "Jethin owns the casino too." Kajulan tsked and splashed her foot down on the ground, while the short man stared into the mug, the coins now resting at the bottom of a rainwater soup. "It's not even about the money," he continued. He steeled himself, as if getting ready to say something unpleasant. "It's about the principle, it's about making sure the people don't think they can strike above their station, it's about. . ." He shook his head rapidly. "I'm not doing the rest of the speech. Look, the point is, you two really pissed him off, and he made sure we were all on the lookout for you. We just had the good luck to be the ones to actually find you."

"Yeah," snarked the big man. "Luck."

"Oh, get over it!" shouted the short man, looking up just enough that his brim still protected him from the rain. "The knife's not even all the way in!" He motioned with his hand, and Kajulan and Tekole were pushed together shoulder to shoulder, while the two men took position behind them. "Now let's get going. I'm sick of standing in the rain."
 
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