A Virtuous Quest 3:50 Believable lies.

Mi'ishaen laid on her back for a few moments, happy to simply not be tied to the chair any longer.  Her back and arms ached miserably, and one of her wrists was bleeding.  She panted hot breath into the chilly air for a few moments, watching the puffs manifest themselves like Aleksei's words when he began losing his temper.

She vainly attempted to breathe more deeply.

The female half-Elf groaned and began to shift herself.  Mi'ishaen summoned strength instantly, seemingly from nowhere, to roll back over and lock her arm around the guard's neck again.  The woman put up less of a fight the second time than she did the first time, and the Tiefling again flopped herself down to the ground to breathe.

And this is the easy part, she thought to herself.

She counted to thirty, again in the attempt to slow her breathing and calm her racing heart.  Her chest hurt, and each beat felt as though her heart might burst out of it.

Okay, she thought after a few fruitless moments' effort.  To work.

Rolling over again, she took the wrist that was bleeding and made ritual-like markings all over her chair.  She made sure that the guard was absolutely clean of blood, then took a few moments to practice running and jumping off her chair.  Truly reaching full extension hurt her side, her joints ached from the cold and damp that she'd sat in for so long, and she found her head spun when she hopped up and down.

It'll have to do.  I won't have another chance at this.

She crumpled the guard's hand around her knife and made another small cut in her wrist to draw some more blood.  She used it to dab at the walls and the cell door, then finally left, leaving the cell door slightly ajar.

The hallway outside was utterly black, and Mi'ishaen didn't dare try to get a torch.  To conserve her energy and make sure she was as quiet as possible, she got on her hands and knees and crawled up the pitch black incline that led to the lit hallways above.  Within her, her heart began speeding up again as though she were running a marathon.  She inched up the hallway slowly, pausing every time she heard footfalls.  Her head pounded, and it seemed as though it were ages before she could actually time the pace of the moving guards.  In the shadows just behind one of them, she managed to make it all the way to a small room where a half-full dinner plate stood.

Mi'ishaen's stomach roared at once, vengeful against the days it had spent churning mossy water, stale bread, and air.  She heard voices up the hall, however, and tore her eyes away from the plate in favor of cramming herself into the few shadows that existed at the back of the room.

Something solid that she didn't see from across the room poked her in the back.

"...and I can't help how many patrols have gone out, or how many other prisoners there are," a male-sounding voice finished as a shadow crossed the small room's threshold.  "Somebody's got to scrub the cells, half the store's rotted, and none of you want to share your feed.  Oughtta get a cat and a priest down here- I got people puking and fainting in the halls for want- aw, c'mon!"

Mi'ishaen watched the shadow on the floor, careful not to look up- it was easy for light to reflect in one's eyes if one did, and any little clue could give her away.  Whoever it was that was holding the conversation with the man seemed to berate him farther for his wish to clean whatever cell was bothering him.

"Oh, push off," he answered finally, moving away from the doorway.  "You're so concerned, you take an extra go-round.  Oh no?  Too much trouble?  Right, then shut it up."

Mi'ishaen waited until she could no longer hear him nor the echo of whomever he was speaking to.  While it was good to note that the guard was stretched thin at the moment, it meant that pathways that were normally set and able to be tracked might be erratic.  She quickly turned to see if she'd suffered an actual bleeding scrape from her accident in the dark, only to discover that she'd scraped herself on a large, unlocked chest.  Upon opening, she was surprised to find her armor, all of her weapons, the small ruby, Aleksei's bottle of frenzywater, Silveredge's sewing equipment and katars, Niku's branded strap, and Bahlzair's pact knife, snugly fit into a jet black leather sheath.

I can't believe I'm about to do this.

Mi'ishaen pulled her armor over her prison garment- again, a thin cotton dress- and began fitting everyone's things into the various pouches that were empty.  She was glad she hadn't taken her stolen merchandise with her, since it gave her room to be a pack mule.  The frenzywater was the toughest to stow, but in the end, she put it in the pouch behind her and prayed that she wouldn't have to fall on her back again.  She took the leather sheath out of the chest last, fingering it carefully, as though the knife inside would jump out and bite her.

There were more hollers down the hall, and although they were unintelligible, they were enough to give the Tiefling rogue a bit of extra urgency.  Her stomach growled too insistently when she attempted to pass the plate twice, and for a moment, there was a fear that it, not any other sound that she might make, would ruin her chances of escape.  The candle light in the room seemed to dim slightly, and the room suddenly became significantly colder.

Mi'ishaen immediately thought the lack of food was driving her insane.  She quickly grabbed the bread that rested on the plate and sopped up some of the ignored meal with it.  The food was mediocre, but having been starved for some time encouraged her to gobble it down anyway.  When she heard the footsteps returning, she pulled herself away from the plate, noticing suddenly that she had decimated more than half of what had been left behind.

"It is not raining, sweet heart of my beloved's heart."

Mi'ishaen blinked, surprised, and could say nothing.  The chill left the room, and the candles grew sharply brighter.  Her heart beat regularly and calmly, and her head didn't spin; yet she knew she hadn't imagined the gently-used, but commanding female voice.  Shaking her head clear of the creepy feeling that suddenly made her skin break out in goosebumps, she crept carefully along the half-lit hallway again, noticing that every prison cell could be accessed off the same single pathway.

The uniformly spaced cells were laid across it at intervals, making it seem more like Silveredge's catacombs than any of the simple prisons that Mi'ishaen had seen before.  Just as she'd passed the third set of cells, the runes on the hilt of the knife began to faintly glow.  Nodding to herself, Mi'ishaen peeked down each side to see if the any guards were around.  Finding that particular hall of cells blessedly deserted, the Tiefling crept to her left to see if she could find Bahlzair.

The Drow was all the way at the end of the hall, calmly meditating in a cell that was so disheveled that it looked as though he'd been wrestling a bear in his spare time, with his back to the barred door.  Mi'ishaen didn't stop to ask questions- she simply slid the sheathed weapon between the bars and started back up the hallway.

Bahlzair looked over his shoulder and down at the weapon, which was still glowing as though it were an ember in a recently-doused fire.  With an interested grunt, he picked it up, took the loose tunic that had been given to him off, and pulled the black skinned sheath on.  He listened to the whisper of Mi'ishaen's freshly re-booted hooves along the prison stone, and waited until he could hear their rasp no longer.  Then he got up, fished the keys that he'd taken off his jailer's dead body out of the severely damaged bed in the corner, and let himself out.

Mi'ishaen inched from hallway to hallway, timing the way the mostly disinterested guards walked halfway down each side, then walked back toward the main hallway and on to another dual row of cells.  It seemed to take forever to reach the large arch that gave out toward the city streets.  Thankfully enough, it was dark outside- whether that meant it was very early in the morning or very late at night, the Tiefling couldn't be sure.  She quietly and cautiously slipped past the inner guards without incident, found a poorly manned corner of the stone-walled courtyard, and got about the business of finding a way over it.

She managed to find the strength to spring from the side of the prison building to the center of the courtyard wall in order to pull herself up and over the high wall.  Just as she had successfully scaled it, she heard shouts behind her.  When she was on the other side, she paused to listen, but couldn't hear anything that referenced her escape, or her, at all.  Instead, there were bellows and screams about the escaped Drow murderer who had apparently solved the lack of food for prisoners problem by eating part of a guard.

I'm less surprised at that than I should be, Mi'ishaen thought to herself as she began to stealthily make her way back to the Coalwater manse.  Probably if I'd been any hungrier, I might have done the same.

She was kidding herself about that, and she knew it.  As it was, her jailer would wake up to chaos- some of it fantastically real, and some of it realistically false.  The hope was that no one would be able to tell which was which for a long, long time- and part of that would mean running into the guard again, just as purposefully as she had done the time before.

3:49 Will, wit, and war-scar.

"...four potatoes, a bag a rice, aaand-a... ya, t'ree carrots.  Al'dough dis last 'un looks like a carrot 'n' a half- what'd ya do ta dat vendor ta make 'im give ya dis one?"

"I don't know," Rafa smiled genuinely, pulling his hair back into a neater ponytail.  "Maybe he felt generous today."

"Or maybe you strong-armed him because he cheated Kuhloch last week?" Kim suggested without looking up from the scroll that lay on the table before her.  "They're not gonna miss you, those stall owners out there.  Your reputation for resorting to force is about as bad as Percy's for contagion."

"Oops," Deryn snickered, putting a hand in front of her mouth in feigned surprise.  "Either way, I'm gonna miss ya.  Now I gotta go ta market m'self, deal with all da crazy prices in person.  How'm I gonna keep from gettin' stiffed?"

"I'm going to miss you too," Rafa joked, pulling the knot in his hair-twine tighter and then crossing his arms.  "You cook much better than I do."

"I bet you're not as bad as Kim," Percy sighed, slowly stirring what was left of the tea in his cup.

"Not going to let that squirrel stew go, are you?" the Drow groaned, looking up from her scroll to the hooded Human across from her.

"What do you mean?" came the simple reply.  "I let it go, along with everything else in my stomach, nearly instantaneously."

"Oh, now this makes more sense," Rafa sighed gustily, with playful frustration.  "You've hired me on as a cooking familiar."

Kim bit her lips to keep from laughing, but Percy misunderstood the joke.  "You can't be a familiar; familiars are anim-"

Just at that moment, pale blue eyes fringed by a mess of curly hair popped through the door.  The small boy whose feature they were darted past the table at which Kim and Percy sat with barely a pause to bring his news.

"Didn't think I'd catchya.  Miss Karri was lookin' for ya by the time the ship left."

"But it left with her on it, right?" Rafa asked with an eyebrow raised suspiciously.

The young boy nodded with a confident smile.  "Sure did.  With all her stuff on it, too- I put it on, 'cause it didn't look like she was gonna."

"Good," Deryn nodded emphatically.  "You done alright."

"Wasn't as easy as I thought it was gonna be, to go on lyin' afta da first coupla times," the boy complained, winding one of his fingers in his hair.

"It's not supposed to be easy to lie," Rafa counseled seriously, reaching over to pluck the boy's hand away from his head.  "It should be hard.  When it gets easy, you're not a good person anymore."

Kullie turned in toward the former Purple Dragon to give him a hug, and he, for his part, knelt down to receive it.

"I'm gonna miss ya, ya know," the child admitted.

"I'll miss you too," came the genuine reply.

The two squeezed a bit, then broke away from each other, and while Percy, Deryn, and Kim were all touched by the show of caring, an expectant cough came from Hai Shui's table.

"Greyback caught ya," Rafa smirked.  "Give it back."

"Only if you do," Kullie teased.  "Betcha he saw you too."

Rafa produced the child's knife, a two inch long thing with a cloth wrapped "hilt" that used to be part of the tavern's tableware, holding it up by the tip of its blade to indicate that he would give it back if the correct conditions were met.   Kullie, with a smirk, obediently stepped back over to Percy and put his ingredient pouch in front of him on the table.

"And that's why you've got to start enchanting your purses," Kim said in a nonplussed tone.  "Nothing serious.  Enfeeblement, shock, something that'll only serve to get the thief's attention.  Grease, if you don't want to actually do anything painful, but you have to do something.  A child robbed you twice."

"Him what oughtn't to've robbed ya even once," Deryn hissed, glaring down at Kullie.  He grinned back up at her, a flicker of defiance reflecting in his eyes like a mirror at the bottom of a clear, shallow puddle.  She made a show of lifting her hand as though she would backhand him at once, then headed toward the kitchen as she grumbled, "Do't again, I dare ya; see won't I tear your hide but good, ya li'ul gut'erlicker!  An' gimme dat cup, it's near on op'nin' time!"

Kullie turned and snatched Percy's teacup without even asking.  At first he moved to hustle right into the kitchen, but catching sight of his knife, still in Rafa's hand, stayed his feet.

"And I get her sermon for the fifth time," Percy complained to Rafa, rolling his eyes as he jabbed a thumb at Kim.  "Thanks."

"So how many time's it gonna take before you make good on wise advice?" Rafa asked, handing the child back his makeshift weapon and watching him scamper off.  "You've pointed out my ability for thievery multiple times yourself, and nobody can threaten me into leaving you alone."

Percy shot his gaze back over to Kim, who simply shrugged without looking up from her scroll.  "Fine; I'll read up on touch-activated wards, thank you both," the mage grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning his head forward so that his hood covered his entire face instead of just his illness-scarred eyes.

Hai Shui, not to be deterred, uttered another grumbling cough.  Surprisingly enough, it was Percy who knocked on the table to get Kim's attention.  Once he'd gotten it, he offered a clearly faux cough to the dark Elf, whose eyes widened with embarrassment as though he'd actually said something to her.  She hustled herself up quickly, and actually beat Percy to the door.

"We'll be right outside," the scarred Human noted as he closed the door behind the two of them.

Left alone, the two men looked at each other- Hai Shui with his chin propped on one thick fist and Rafa with his arms crossed as he leaned on the front of the bar.  The old Shou had only to raise an eyebrow at the younger Human male.

"Not a thing," Rafa smiled.  "Except maybe pity.  Maybe.  When I'm drunk."

The older man nodded, and his features were a bit less grim than normal.

"And thank you for that," the former soldier continued.  "I don't know... I... suppose I thought we both deserved it, in a way."

Hai Shui merely scoffed, but Rafa somehow felt as though there were a personal knowledge in the sound.

"We'll be by ya 'gain, I warrant ya," the young man smiled, momentarily returning to his native Moonever accent.  He pulled his hand over his head to get the shaggy bits of his dark hair that refused to stay in the ponytail for a moment, then let his hand rest there.  "Come 'round, toss a pint 'er two?  C'n spare yer boy'o 'nother good shiner with the wrong side of a flagon."  Rafa paused again and chuckled to himself.  "I'll, eh... really miss that.  Mayn't believe that, but... I will."

The Shou grunted and got up from his table.  Ambling over slowly toward the middle of the room, he slapped both open palms on his chest and held out his arms.

Shame or shy; he's whispering in shadow.  Light still hurts, but I hear him anyway.

But as usual, none of this actually made it out of his mouth to Rafa.  The two instead simply met at the center of the tavern and give each other the type of hug that should have been shared with Rafa's often mentioned great grandfather- who rather unfortunately sounded like the sort of man who wouldn't want to have any part of it.  Rafa had reacquainted himself with the strange, salty-sweet smell of sweat and old alcohol, and had no trouble holding the embrace for quite some time before pulling away with a sigh.

"Alright.  I'll be back," he said at last.

"Ya betta!" came a high pitched holler from the kitchen, followed by a very quiet shush.

Both men laughed, and the elder watched the younger turn and pick up his things, which were sitting just inside the door.  Deryn and Kullie peeked out from the kitchen in time to watch the muscular figure disappear in the wash of morning light that came through the door.  After a few moments, Deryn looked down and noticed that Kullie's face and eyes had gone red.  Reaching down, she summoned the strength that she normally used to the lift the delivered ale kegs to pick her half-grown son up into her arms.

"If ya write 'im, 'at'll make 'im practice 'is readin', won't it?" she gently reminded him.  All he did in response, with his face tucked as snugly into her neck as he could push it, was nod.


Just outside, Kim and Percy had drifted toward a notice that had been posted just to the left of the tavern's door.  Rafa, without announcing his presence, simply walked up behind them and looked over Percy's shoulder.  Kim, who had noticed him first, cast a glance over Percy's head at him.

"Okay?" she asked tentatively.

Rafa, who instantly noticed how vaguely she had posed the question, didn't turn his eyes to meet her gaze.  "This is... a bounty, right?"

"Yes," Percy replied, trying to keep the edge of disbelief out of his voice.  "But not a serious one.  Looks like some nearby commoner needs a chalice out of some nearby cave."

"How did he lose some fancy family cup in a cave?" Rafa instantly demanded.  "What was he, having a high-class foot-shake with the bats, rats, and bears?"

Kim ducked her head and covered her mouth with her hand to keep both men from realizing that she'd begun to laugh.

"I'm not sure how he could-" Percy began, casting a sidelong glance at the dark Elf anyway.

"Well, however he got the damned thing into the cave is the same way he can get it out," the dark haired Human proclaimed with a derisive snort.  "Anything else of use?"

"Oh, come now, Rafa, don't be so hard-hearted," Kim giggled, still covering her face.  "Perhaps the poor soul got a bit tipsy, bumbled around, fell into the cave, discovered some ferocious party-mates, and could only manage to escape with his life.  He'd not go back to such a place for the cup, perhaps, but wouldn't he still want it back?  Especially if it were a family heirloom which oughtn't to have left the house in the first place?  We're more suited to the task than such a one, aren't we?  And he'll pay- let's see- twenty gold."

"Twenty gold's not enough for three healing potions, which we'll need, when we all come up on whatever scared the blessed bullshit out of him," Rafa contended, raising an eyebrow at the still-smirking Drow.  "What kind of town idiot loses a piece of family honor, drunk, in a cave?"

"I think he only intended to hire one person," Percy said thoughtfully, ignoring Rafa's question entirely.  "And if the cave is dangerous- as most of them are- I wonder what sort of person he intended to get at just twenty gold, never mind what sort of person he is at all."

"He's the sort of person to lose a fancy cup in a cave, is what sort of person he is," Rafa scoffed.  "And I'd hate to see what he pays his domestic slaves- what kind of coin are you used to seeing for hunt-and-fetch missives like this?"

Percy, who didn't realize that Rafa was asking a rhetorical question, quickly searched his various pockets and pouches for his documents.  "According to my records, we-"

"Percival."  Kim tossed Percy a look, then turned back to Rafa hopefully.  "We can go and casually visit the place, and say we'd like to talk to this- eh, here it is- 'Errick.'  If he doesn't strike us all as the sort of person we ought to help, then we can thank him kindly for his time and be off, hmm?"

Rafa looked from Kim to Percy incredulously.  "Hang on, how come you're both acting like I'm a leader?"

"You certainly sounded like a leader a few seconds ago, when you practically told us we oughtn't to accept twenty gold for a job that sounds suspiciously foolish and dangerous to you," Kim argued.

"It's up to you both; I'm just along to cook," Rafa smiled, embarrassed, with a shake of his head.  "Maybe smack a few things in the head whenever necessary- but that doesn't put me in charge."

Kim and Percy looked at each other for a few moments, but for some reason, Rafa knew that communication was happening between them as clearly and easily as if they had been speaking aloud.

"If we're voting, then I nominate you, Kim," Rafa suggested, making a show of looking back at the bounty that had been tacked up to the side of the tavern with a crude nail.  "You've got the knack for reading people, it's natural to you to counsel others, and you've got the sense to ask the higher powers for guidance when it's necessary, so I don't see why you can't lead us."

There was a long silence.

Kim suddenly tossed her head toward Rafa, who was actually attempting to read the entire bounty offering for himself, and Percy turned slightly to poke the former soldier in the ribs.  Rafa looked at him sharply, then noticed Kim's gaze.  At last, the three of them truly looked at one other, judging and gauging as though they had never really met or conversed before.

"I tell you, I won't do," Rafa insisted, turning back to the bounty.  "Nobody vote for me; I can't do it.  I'll be as good to you as Dan, and you know it."

"Well, I know I couldn't be in charge," Percy finally admitted.  "Who would want to hire us if the first thing they saw was me?"

"Percival," Rafa frowned without turning back around.  "I didn't say a word about how you look.  So long as you're not actually sickly, why should you be shunned as though you were?"

"I can't stop being... sickly," Percy explained quietly.  "If we pass by plaguelands, even up to miles away, there's a rather good chance I'll relapse.  My scars and burns are considered abnormal, since not only are they visible all the time, they're green, instead of blue.  My eyes are always aching, and when I use magic, which nearly cost me my sanity to relearn, they actually burn."

Rafa bit his lips, rubbing his right hand across the back of his neck with a sigh, but not a shadow crossed Kim's face.

"It could be worse," she pronounced seriously, "Try being a Drow mage- or actually, just being a Drow at all- in Shadowdale.  And if I go anywhere with two men in tow, as though I were a matron mother..."

The former Purple Dragon put his things back down and crossed his arms.  "Look, I'm trying to be practical, so that we work toward the good of all of us.  We ought to all take stock of what we can and cannot do, and then be honest about it with each other.  I can cook, and I can heft, and I can shake down a bully at the market, but I don't read or write well, and I have all the delicacy of a caught snapping turtle.  Think of it like that, not like a beauty contest at a maypole festival."

There was again a very long, silent pause between the three of them,

Finally, Kim leaned her head from side to side and admitted, "Before I offered healing and counseling services to caravans and travelling mercenaries, I spent a very long time- to most non-Elven races it was a long time, anyway- studying enchantment.  I was also responsible for translation for a temple of Eilistraee for a while.  I can read and write in Common, Dwarven, Undercommon, Standard Elven, and Eladrin.  I had been learning Sylvan, when Dan hired me on.  His last healer had died on him, he said, and if someone doesn't care for magic healing, I can use some simple herbs instead- I'd like to go on studying herbal medicine, actually."

"I didn't know you knew Dwarven," Percy said wonderingly.  "How come you never said that?"

"It never really came up," Kim shrugged.  "Why?  How many languages do you have?"

"Oh wow," Percy laughed genuinely.  "As a former temple scribe, plenty.  I can speak Standard Elven, of course, along with Sylvan, and Eladrin.  But if you mean just reading and writing, then there's Draconic, Netherese and Loross, the latter of which is dead, but still immensely useful, Tuigan, Mulhorandi, Infernal, and both Gith variants, which were awful to try to tell apart while learning the syntax.  I was working on both Suloise and Dwarven when... I..."

Kim suddenly surged forward and grabbed Percy's hands, pulling them out of his sleeves and into the light of day, where the pallid things seemed nearly translucent.  "Percy, listen.  Since we're all for actually communicating with each other today, I think your scar was waiting for you.  She rejected all of those idiot pilgrims, and chose for herself the sheltered, but completely selfless young scribe who put himself in her way to keep every single one of them alive when they should have died there, just as flippant and ignorant as they walked in.  She embraced you, not to kill you, but to empower you, and in you, she is so wildly different than she appears in any other mage because you are different.  Okay?"

Percy blinked at Kim for a few seconds without anything.  After a few wordless moments, Kim realized her own mistake with a quiet intake of breath and started to remove her hands.

"No- no, it's- thank you," the Human mage breathed.  "It hurts, but- but thank you.  He's done it too, actual physical contact, and I- just the fearlessness of it, of you both- I'll gladly follow either one; choose between yourselves."

Rafa picked his things back up, and waited until Kim let Percy go with a bit of a pat.

She's a leader, however she might have gotten that way.  He and I are in good hands, he thought with a distracted smirk.

"Alright Rafa, you get your way- but it's not because I actually believe that all you do is cook, thrash people and carry heavy things," Kim sighed, turning to face him.  "We've got to do some research on why precisely you perceive arcane and divine energies in color auras.  Percy, have you heard of any places where one might quickly get into various types of divine or arcane study?"

"If you want a place, I'd say we start at the College of War Wizards, in Suzail," Percy replied immediately.  "The Bone College of Urmlaspyr might be more effective, but also espouses more... ahem... sinister methodologies.  Backlash of being under Sembia's skirts so long, if you ask me.  Eladrin study groups are likely to charge us something strange that we won't want to go fetch, or to ink a contract that we won't want to fulfill.  They are, on the whole, rather fond of tricking people into terrible trysts just for fun.  And anywhere else, you're practically bound to run into Netherese, or Imaskari, or Turathi, or- sorry to have to say this, but- Drow."

"Don't be sorry about that," Kim huffed instantly.  "I don't want any word getting back to the matron mother, whoever she may be by now, and you would not believe how easily news travels."

"I don't understand it," Percy frowned.  "You're her only daughter.  Nothing else should matter."

"I've spent over a hundred years topside," Kim replied, shaking her head.  "I wouldn't last thirty seconds back home, and that's that."

Rafa raised an eyebrow.  "You're over a hundred years old?" he asked quietly.

"I turned two hundred and twenty three, just three months ago," Kim smiled weakly.  "We were in Vesperin at the time, and since I'd successfully cured a lord of a rather embarrassing ailment without realizing whom I was helping, he gave us quite a bit of gold, and we celebrated with some style."

"And we lived on the rest of it, because she urged us to, from then until now," Percy added.  "Turns out you were the wise one, for convincing Dan to be so parsimonious."

"Yes, well, you never know," Kim shrugged.  "I hadn't scried that time; I was only guessing.  And besides, two hundred twenty three isn't worth a lot of fuss.  It only seems like a big deal to Humans because they just don't live that long."

"I wouldn't want to," Rafa admitted.  "Two hundred twenty some-odd years of taxes, wars, failed relationships, and dead kings- frankly, I don't know how you do it."

"Pay the taxes, win the wars, and avoid both relationships and kings wherever possible," Kim answered.  "What do you think of speaking to Errick first and then heading off to Cormyr, unless we're met with a better opportunity?  And unless I've lost my reason, we'll have to live carefully, if we don't take the job."

"I can sew," Rafa smiled.  "I can take in sewing like my mother and sister did, for a while."

"Oh, for gods' sakes, Rafa, take the bounty off the door, and let's go," Kim laughed, rolling her eyes.  "Keep an eye out for the other tavern doors; perhaps we can get a better competing offer.  And if we do, we'll just post this bounty where the other one was."

With that, Kim checked her various pouches and purses, then moved off.  Behind her, Percy watched Rafa take the paper off the door and roll it up.  Both nodded to each other, satisfied, then followed their new leader down the cobblestone street.