Northgate
Mostly 72 Autumn 217, the first two days after the sewer foray
Sav
On 71 Autumn, a scrap of paper with a nonsense doodle appears on one of the notice boards in Dustown.
The sunset of the next day, Sav perches on the rooftop of a tavern in Dustown, the lower half of her face shoved into her scarf. The faint scent of fresh greens and florals rises from the scarf, battling against the reek of the gutters nearby. The places nearby are just beginning to swing into their full activity; she’s scooted back just enough to avoid being seen casually from the street, but leaving herself enough room to get a clear view of the road to either side.
Ethan
The Frosted Ale tavern served cheap drinks to a clientele that valued quantity above refinement. It was busy at most times throughout the day - it’s prices kept customers coming back even if they would openly complain about the quality of the food or the weakness of its drinks. It was the place that locals loved to hate.
Behind the tavern, a set of stairs led from the back alley up to what was once an apartment door. The building had been renovated time and time again, and now the stairs led up to a doorframe that was bricked over. At some point, one of the tavern owners had decide that they had enough money from the sell of spirits (and whatever other business they were involved in) that they decided to annex the separate apartment and make the entire top floor their own personal quarters.
Strangely, however, a small room with a single window looking out near the stairs was walled over as well. Perhaps the room held bad memories for the owner or maybe someone was just superstitious. Whatever the reason, the isolated room sat unused, watching over the world of the back alley through its single little window… until Ethan discovered the space.
Of the safe houses, this was his favorite discovery but his least favorite to use. Accessing the room was a little tricky and the room’s furnishings consisted entirely of a single rug (which Ethan had brought). Still, floorboards were solid and the commotion from the lively tavern below covered any sounds that would be made upstairs.
He sat on the rug now as he waited for Sav to crawl though the cracked window. So far, this week had been full of talks. He should be used to it by now, having played characters who were always happy to bask in the spotlight. But these had been different; in these talks, he was supposed to be playing himself…
Sav
When the last rim of the sun dips below the horizon, Sav finally stirs from the spot she’d sat on. She hadn’t spotted anyone coming up along the road, but maybe that was to be expected - Ethan might well know other ways around, or perhaps he’d actually just been there since before she came. She hadn’t looked in, yet, wanting to spend some time surveying the area to see if anybody was unduly interested or lingering suspiciously.
No sign of such people, no sign of Ethan. That was fine. Slinking over to the edge of the roof, she inhales, pulls against the pull of the earth below, grips the edge of the roof with her fingertips and lowers herself lightly down, her toes seeking and finding the windowsill. Dropping into a crouch, she pushes the window open, the dim light from the torches outside flashing greenly across the goggles over her face for a second before she drops in. Her heels hit the floor a trifle harder than her toes as she lets go of her resistance against the earth’s pull, but any potential sound is muffled by the rug underneath.
Unsurprised by him already being in the room, she nods at him and says, with no preamble whatsoever, “Why’d you do it?”
He’s a smart fellow. He can figure out what she’s referring to.
Ethan
He almost laughs at this. He stops it thankfully before it makes its way to his face.
He isn’t entirely certain what she is referring to, actually. He decides to skip the part of asking and move straight to the heart of the matter.
“What, exactly, do you believe I should have done?”
Sav
A good question, and one Sav has mulled over in the days since the failed foray into the sewers. Throwing down the rope and revealing the presence of a secret hiding hole that any of them could access would have been - if not more disastrous than the entire thing turned out be - an extra little topping of shite on a shite cake. But to leave them standing and fighting down below while not moving a finger was also a shite cake of a different reek.
Putting her own answers in his mouth isn’t why she came, though. She shakes her head a trifle. “Doesnae matter what I think you should ha done. I wantae know your thinkin behind stayin up in the hidey-hole during that fight. Cowardice seems too simple an answer, for one who decided to gather a buncha folks to stand up against the Swans, so ye must have had a reason.” She pauses, a dark thought crossing her mind, and swallows any more words.
Ethan
“Alright…” he said calmly although with some effort.
“Let’s review.”
“The plan was for us to sneak in and out, so I was lightly armored. I have no special powers and I’m not that great of a fighter - I’m barely a match for one trained soldier in a stand up fight.
“So, I stayed hidden because it was the smart move. Because there was nothing I could have done to change the situation below. The situation was fucked the second Talith decided to jump out in the open and two others decided to follow. We weren’t going to somehow win the fight and prevent all five of those men from alerting others regardless of what I did.
“When you think back on the way the fight went, you’ll see that I’m right.”
“So, I couldn’t make a positive difference… but I could make things worse.
“I could reveal to the enemy that we can make invisible floating boxes, so the next time you run around a corner and seem to disappear, they’ll know some of us might be hiding a few feet off the ground.
“I could reveal that there are at least five of us instead of four.
“And I could make things worse by ruining any opportunity I may have had to stay behind to spy on them and try to learn something after you retreated.”
He offers a bitter smile.
“Speaking to that last one, what was your reason for dissolving the invisible hiding spot again? What were you thinking, exactly?”
“I’m going to take a guess… was it something along the lines or ‘if you won’t help us, I won’t help you?’ Did it have the taste of something spiteful? Because the decision certainly didn’t seem to have any strategy to it…”
Sav
Oh, yes, Talith. Now that is someone she still has to brace—though part of her isn’t sure she even wants to, yet. Every time she thinks back to that first leap out, the recalled shock and anger fills her again—and screaming and crying wouldn’t do anything to fix things, and be embarrassing to boot.
Brushing that one aside for the moment, she rocks back on her heels and puts up a finger. “One. Were there any conditions that woulda brought you to leave the hole on your own?”
Another finger. “Two. What makes ye feel that you would’ve been any larger success at spyin’ on your own without folk to help kill the guards, in those mazy tunnels without hidey-holes or crevices? Ye’ve seen a little o what I can do, and I thought it not safe to try and investigate on me own.”
A third finger. “Three. Say you had stayed, we’d retreated, you found out interestin’ stuff afterward. Let’s even say it’s good stuff, ye know what they’re lookin’ for in the tunnels. Now ye’ve got some sneaky-tales and a buncha folks mad at you and thinkin’ ye’re untrustworthy, a coward, or would sacrifice ‘em in a blink if it gets you an advantage. How long’s your noble rebellion goin’ tae last if the people involved cannae even trust the one in charge to watch their backs?”
She blinks at his last question, surprised—not so much at the concept as that the question even needed to be asked, it seems. “Well, of course. The first word of shared aid is shared. I didnae jump down outta the pure goodness of me own heart.” No matter what Vanja thought. She ignores the fact that she did interpose herself between the soldiers and the bleeding girl. “If I’d known what ye were on about I might hae considered leaving it up, an’ you even had the opportunity—I stayed a handsful longer than the rest. But I cannae read minds—yet—an I dinnae know your heart, to trust ye without an inkling of your intent.”
Throughout all of this, her voice is mild, mostly curious. Underlying it is an edge of wariness, though, and her body angles slightly toward the window, tense as a knife—more so than when she’d first entered. Then, she’d seemed only calm and inquisitive, if lacking in conversational graces. Now she seems even more poised to flee than usual
Ethan
Ethan sighs.
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you…? Because I am deficient.”
“I’m good at a lot of things—great at a couple of them. Most of them deal with strategy, planning… what I am not good at is being a field marshal—a tactician.”
“I didn’t tell you anything because I didn’t think to say anything. I was in my own head—thinking it out. I’m not a soldier. I’ve never trained to lead people into battle. I didn’t plan on leading anyone into battle that night.”
“Soldiers train together. Like that damned Inquisitor said to his men, “you’ve trained for this…”
“We had not.”
“I have not.”
“And I’m not likely to get that much better at it…”
“You were right that I was thinking on my own. Analyzing what was happening. Trying to salvage what I could salvage.
“You shouldn’t trust me, not entirely. Because I’m not the perfect leader you would want to be in this position. I’m just the one who was good enough to put all this shit together - the money, the safe houses, the network of information…
“But that doesn’t mean I can lead people into battle. The only way I know how to fight is by striking when and where the enemy doesn’t see coming. And sneaking away before they know I’m there.”
“I didn’t say anything because… I’m not the person who knows how to bark commands.”
“Maybe that’s a disappointment. Might even make you angry. But I never claimed to be some battle master… and there’s plenty enough anger to go around right now.”
“Me? I’m pissed because I spent a year planning one hell of a surprise party and then someone went and shit on the cake. Now everyone seems to be mad at me for letting it ruin the evening.”
“I didn’t plan for anyone to shit on the cake. I’m trying to roll with it but… gods, what the fuck do you want from me? Someone shit on the cake!”
He felt he was straying from the point, so he tried to sum up his message.
“Look, I can’t make you trust me. All I can do is tell you straight so here it is:
“You and your gifts or abilities or whatever you call ‘em… they’re invaluable. I will do whatever I can to keep you.”
“If you expected things to be different, for things to be better, well, welcome to the club. I thought all your powers would be enough. And I thought everyone would be ready to use them and know how to work together…”
“I was wrong. That takes something I can’t do on my own—it might even require something I can’t do with others. That takes leadership.”
“I didn’t plan to lead an insurgency; I just laid the groundwork for one!”
“I am not a leader. And if you can get over that, then maybe you can help me figure out how I’m supposed to build a team without one.”
Sav
Sav absorbs Ethan’s stream of words and sits in silence for an uncomfortably long minute. She finally breaks it with a soft snort. “Well. From all the barkers I’ve seen the only need is to think ye’re right and want to say so, and you seem to have that in spades.” It doesn’t seem intended to be a snide jab, but given as this is maybe the fourth time they’ve met, it might be a little early to be trying chastisement as banter.
“You may not wantae be a leader, but ye’re still the one who called everyone together, set things rollin, have the contacts with these mysterious patrons, and are gettin folk what they need to survive. Dinnae ken what else ye’d hight yourself, a duck? Y’en’t perfect, no brangling that, but ye’re the one in the center doing the work.”
She leans back, resting her hip against the window sill and crossing her arms. She seems to have relaxed a trifle, but still looks a quarter-poised to flee. “You didnae answer me question, though. Or at least the real question. Would ye hae stayed up there an it looked like everyone was trapped and would die?” Or get captured, but one was much the same as the other.
She sighs. “And speaking of shitters. How can I reach Talith?”
Ethan
“If they started to slaughter the lot of you and I thought I could do something, if there was even a chance, I’d risk it try to save you.
“But that doesn’t mean I’d throw myself in front of five men and try to fight all them off. I’d probably try to kill one quick and wound another, and then run away. Try to cause havoc or divert their attention and try to buy you guys an opportunity to get away.”
“If they were taking prisoners, then no. I would follow you to see where they were taking you and then alert the others to try to get you out.”
“So if your question is, ‘would you put yourself in harms way to save us,’ or ‘would you risk dying to defend us,’ then the answer is ‘yes,’ but I’m going to try to be smart about it.
“I don’t know if that’s the answer you’re looking for, but it’s what I would do. It’s what I think is the best move in a shitty situation.”
As for Talith…” Ethan proceeds to describe where the notice board for Talith’s area was located.
Sav
Sav nods slowly, arms still folded high on her chest. “Fair enough. Folk needtae see that sort o thing though. Jorungun’s pretty wobbled over feelin like she was nearly dead an’ havin refuge denied.” She purses her lips and blows out a quick huff, as though reluctant to say the next bit. “Even if it was the right call for the bigger fight. I dinnae think you were wrong about that bit, even if how ye danced that two-step was also shite. No good answers there, though, ‘twas shite pies all around.”
She turns and puts a hand to the windowsill, once again pulling against the earth as she leaps up to balance on the ledge. Looking back over her shoulder, she adds, “If workin’ together’s a problem, might behoove to borrow a page from the soldier’s playbook and get some practice in. Maybe no good place to do that in the city, but city’s pretty hot right now, aye.” She hesitates, looking out toward the alley, and adds, “Just cause we never made it far into the ruins doesnae mean the reason we tried en’t there any more. Maybe an even quieter approach is needed, with fewer folk.” She half-turns to look at Ethan again, and because subtlety and letting hints lie is not in her nature, ends with, “I still wantae go back down there. But maybe just you an’ me an’ perhaps one other person good at the sneaky-sneaks.”
With that, she nods, turns forward again, and launches herself off into the night.
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