"Ye mean to tell me, ye went out fishin' for 18 hours, and all ye bloody caught were a couple o' harbor herrin's?!" K'hahtoa sternly lectured her retainer, Samantha.
"But these aren't any old herrings, my lady!" Samantha defended herself, "these are only the highest quality herrings fished straight from the Lominsan docks!"
K'hahtoa rubbed the palm of her hand across her forehead. This had been the third time her retainer brought back less than what she'd hoped, and her patience was wearing very thin.
"I found some pieces of Allagan as well, these sell for-"
"100 gil each, yes, I know!" K'hahtoa loudly sighed, "put them fish up on't market board for 10 gil a piece. Some sorry culinarian'll 'ave 'em."
"Yes, my lady," Samantha nodded, "is there anything else I can-"
"No, I'm out o' ventures for ye. Ye dismissed fer now, love."
Samantha bowed and disappeared amongst the hustle and bustle of Hawker's Alley.
"I swear she's playin' me fer a right fool," K'hahtoa whispered to herself, "gods I need a bloody drink."
As K'hahtoa walked across the bridge to reach The Drowning Wench, a familiar face greeted her at the entrance.
"Ayup, Sunseeker," it was Jacke, the Rogues' Guildmaster, "given any more thought to tradin' that bardiche for a pair o' subtle cutters?"
"There's nowt subtle about your lot, Jacke," K'hahtoa smirked, "anyroad, I like bein' the one who kicks down the door. The one who makes the entrances, ye know?"
"Aye, right you are," Jacke smiled.
"What ye doin' round these parts anyway? Run out o' finger sandwiches to pilfer?"
Jacke's expression immediately soured. "How'd you find out about that?"
"Hehe," K'hahtoa smirked, "V'kebbe's got more friends than ye think."
Jacke shook his head, a wry smile breaking onto his face. Saying not a word more, he ruffled K'hahtoa's short brown hair and walked away. After tidying her hair again and straightening her ears, she finally made her way into the Wench without another delay.
"Hoy, Kat," Baderon addressed from behind the bar, "I'll have an ale ready for ye in just a moment."
"Anything interestin' goin' on today, Baderon?" K'hahtoa asked.
"Not a whole lot today, I'm afraid. Well, apart from that sorry bunch over there." Baderon nodded towards a table in the corner of the pub. K'hahtoa spun her head to see three solemn looking adventurers; an Elezen conjurer, a Roegadyn pugilist and a Lalafell thaumaturge. All three were sat in stone silence, and seemed to all but choke the usually lively pub of its hearty atmosphere.
"What's wrong with 'em?" K'hahtoa asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
"Hey, don't bloody stare!" Baderon whispered, "the thaum's practically brimmin' with rage. You can sense it in her."
Baderon was right. The young Lalafell had her fists clenched together. Even from a reasonable distance, K'hahtoa could see her hands shaking.
"Have they ordered any drinks?"
"Not a one."
"Then why don't ye throw 'em out if they're like to cause trouble?"
"You've obviously never tried throwing a thaumaturge out of a pub before..."
"...or a bloody 'ellsguard pugilist. I'm strong, but I bet he could crush me flat!"
"Aye, like a lump of Allagan tin."
K'hahtoa flinched away as the Lalafell suddenly locked eye contact with her. She buried her face in her pint.
"I'll just focus on you now," K'hahtoa said to Baderon, "yer an ugly bugger but I know ye won't tear me limbs off."
"Believe me, I will if ye don't pay off this tab!"
K'hahtoa remained silent for a few seconds, before nodding acceptingly.
"Forget it, yer too ugly to look at..."
K'hahtoa tried her chances at the table of crestfallen adventurers. The Lalafell woman was still looking towards her, and her gaze had even attracted the attention of her comrades. It was too late now; the thaumaturge's stare had put K'hahtoa into some form of trance. Try as she might, she simply couldn't avert her gaze. She had to know more; behind those deep sorrowful eyes lay a tragic tale, and K'hahtoa simply had to know more. She began walking towards their table...
"Not another step, Sunseeker," the Lalafell woman snapped venomously, "or I'll cremate you on the spot."
"Must you be so morbid, Zinene?" the Elezen man sat opposite her sighed, "leave us, marauder. You've probably noticed we're not in a talking mood."
"She had the brass to walk up to us," the pugilist spoke with a booming voice, "why not satiate her curiosity?"
"Oh yes, why not?" the thaumaturge replied, "and hey, let's round up the whole bloody pub while we're at it. Make a right old song and dance about it. Are you thick?"
"Well, I'm sorry to intrude," K'hahtoa said, "I just don't like seein' people so down in me city is all."
"Ah, it's your city is it?" the thaumaturge snapped, "ran Merlwyb out of office did you? Well good for you. Now piss off."
"Please forgive our Zinene," the Elezen conjurer intervened, "she may be small but she's got the mouth of an ore deprived kobold."
"I-it's fine," K'hahtoa nodded, "sorry to 'ave bothered you."
K'hahtoa turned to see Baderon give her his stern "I told you so" expression. As she walked away from the table, she heard the Roegadyn's booming voice behind her...
"Please wait, adventurer."
K'hahtoa instinctively spun on her heels and faced the pugilist. He beckoned her towards the table's empty seat.
"What are you doing?!" the Lalafell shouted, "she had the decency to bugger off, so let her bugger off already!"
The Roegadyn shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Zinene, but someone has to hear our plight."
"No, they really don't! We don't even know who she is! Hells, she could be the one who did it for all we know!"
"Whatever it is, I can promise you I 'ad nothin' to do with it."
"Well the secret's out now," the conjurer shook his head, "may as well follow through."
"Please, adventurer, have a seat with us," the Roegadyn calmly spoke. K'hahtoa sat herself in the chair opposite him, her armour plating clinking loudly as she did so. She glanced at the thaumaturge, who simply rolled her eyes.
"This is Barnabaix Becquerel," the Roegadyn said, nodding towards the Elezen man.
"A pleasure," Barnabaix replied.
"This firebrand is Zinene Zene, and I am called Clear Summit."
"Pleasure meetin' you all. I'm K'hahtoa Mhuga."
"That's a funny name..." the thaumaturge muttered.
"Aye, and so is Zizen...Zinez...Zeniz..."
"Zinene Zene!"
"Yeah, that."
Zinene pouted and practically stared daggers at K'hahtoa.
"I think she likes you, K'hahtoa," Clear Summit grinned.
Barnabaix tutted, "I didn't think that today, of all days, would be the one where you finally crack a joke, Clear Summit..."
"Erm, yes. You are right, Barnabaix."
Clear Summit took a deep breath before addressing K'hahtoa. His calm demeanour coincided with his elegant name.
"Tell me, K'hahtoa," he continued, "mayhap you've heard of a man by the name of Warin Darksplitter?"
K'hahtoa's eyes lit up. "Aye! He was that gladiator! Made quite a name for 'imself a year or so ago in Ul'dah, if I 'ave it right? Oh, seven 'ells, did somethin' happen to 'im?"
"Warin was not just 'that gladiator,' as you call him," Barnabaix said, "and his accomplishments far outweigh winning Raubahn's favour in the Coliseum."
"Yep, one of Carteneau's unsung heroes, he was," Zinene added.
"He fought at Carteneau?!" K'hahtoa sounded surprised. The heroes of the battle of Carteneau, both alive and deceased, were well documented. So how had she never heard of this Warin Darksplitter?
"Yeah," Zinene replied, "didn't expect you'd know, either."
"To be fair, not many people outside of his family do," Barnabaix added.
"So what 'appened to 'im?" K'hahtoa asked.
The group fell silent for a few moments, once more draining the atmosphere from the busy pub.
"Warin was murdered in his sleep," Clear Summit announced coldly, "his wounds imply he was killed by a voidsent."
"Thal's balls, man! Would you keep your bloody voice down?!" Zinene snapped, "we've already told this Sunseeker more than she deserves, the last thing we need is to spread rumours in the very capital of rumour spreading!"
"Well, that aside, what did Warin mean to you three? I'm guessin' ye were close..."
"Close isn't the half of it," Barnabaix nodded, "we were his most trusted companions."
"You could say he was our saviour, in more ways than one," Clear Summit smiled.
"Yes. He plucked us all out of the dirt and put us back on our feet," Zinene added before staring sadly into the distance, "you could say he meant everything to us."
K'hahtoa was practically speechless. Baderon was right; she should have stayed well away. With things not going so well in her own life, the last thing she needed was overbearing guilt.
"Well, I'm sorry fer ye loss, truly," K'hahtoa finally said, "but I hope you'll excuse me. I have to check on my retainer before she-"
"Not so fast, K'hahtoa Mhuga..."
As K'hahtoa rose from her seat, Clear Summit's booming voice landed her right back in it.
"Eh? Is there a problem?" she asked.
"Yeah, is there?" Zinene was equally puzzled.
"What, you think after hearing our tale we were just going to let you run free?" Barnabaix said rather sternly.
"My friend is right," Clear Summit nodded, "while it pains me to bind you to our cause, I'm afraid that I, nor yourself, have a choice."
"What?!" K'hahtoa and Zinene yelled in tandem.
"But I 'ave me own life! I'm a bloody adventurer! How am I supposed to make coin mopin' around with you lot?!"
"She's right! We don't need her! She'll only weigh us down!"
"Yeah! I'll only weigh ye down!"
"You both know how lazy Sunseekers are!"
"Hey! Hold on a sec, I resent that, ye little shite!"
"What in Thal's bloody name did you call me?!"
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!"
The Drowning Wench fell completely silent at the sound of Clear Summit's bellowing. Remaining completely silent, the group looked on as every single pair of eyes in the pub were fixated on them.
"Why don't we take this outside?" Barnabaix suggested calmly, "as in, Summerford Farms outside..."
"Agreed," Clear Summit's voice returned to its usual tranquility, "K'hahtoa, if you're the adventurer you claim to be, pack your essentials and meet us at Summerford Farms."
The three of them stood up and left, taking the patrons' line of sight with them. Zinene turned to face K'hahtoa one last time, mouthing the words "don't you dare!"
As the pub's usual ruckus began to restore, K'hahtoa sat in silent thought for a few moments. Should she follow them? Clear Summit seemed to suggest she was practically obligated to do so. As a marauder, she hated taking orders from anyone, let alone a bloody pugilist. Yet at the same time, she couldn't help but grow ever curiouser about the odd trio. They clearly had tales to tell, and a bizarre mystery lay at their feet.
"That tab's gonna have to wait a bit longer," K'hahtoa cheekily said to Baderon.
"Don't worry lass," he replied, "I heard every word of yer exchange. Just you be careful, alright? Not every adventurer's as trustworthy as you."
"Yeah. I know that all too well, Baderon. All too well."
Mending her equipment and sharpening her axe, K'hahtoa packed a small bag of consumables and other essentials and left the safety of Limsa Lominsa. Eorzea was a beautiful, yet often dangerous place. However, she sensed something special within those three, even the foulmouthed Lalafell. Little did she know of the journey that awaited her, and that she would become an adventurer reborn.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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