The entrance to the wharf was well hidden, tucked away on one side of the city, well away from the more densely populated areas. It was dominated by what Jarvan could only guess was a fish market, and judging from the smell, he was right. Prominent trading companies rose up around the square, their gates standing open to allow delivery of wagons full of goods as men and women came and went. Goods flowed up and down the slope leading down to the docks, the sounds of men working and the screech of gulls along the canal reminded Jarvan of the docks back home. He had done many a tour through those docks, inspecting the men and cargo that flowed through the port, watching his men work with the sailors and ensuring nothing snuck into the city that didn't belong. He had fond memories of the Demacian Docks, but looking around the Noxian wharf, Jarvan realized this was a place of nightmares.
Rats scurried all along the streets and people simply cast garbage and waste upon the cobble lined cart ways like it was nothing. In the few minutes that Jarvan and Shyvana had been moving through the wharf, they had seen no less than three bodies lying in the gutter. It was a chilling realization of just how dedicated the Noxians were to their own creeds. 'Only the strong survive' took on a whole new meaning here among the lowest class of citizens, the bums and sailors regarded as nothing more than scum, no better than the garbage upon the ground.
Part of Jarvan hated them all for simply being Noxian, a sentiment he had been raised with, but as he walked through the docks he was starting to feel the hatred in earnest. His resent for them was only growing as he was able to observe the horrid treatment they put up with for himself. Demacia had its fair share of problems, but there was nothing as horrid as this, the citizenry would not put up with it. The prince grimaced as they walked past another body lying in the gutter. Rats gnawed at what flesh was left on the bone, the corpse so disfigured that Jarvan couldn't tell if it had been a man or woman. He did notice how the skull had been split open directly down the center, cleanly cleaved into two pieces down to the collar, only bits of stringy muscle holding the pieces together. Jarvan felt bile rise in his throat as he steered clear of the corpse and he could see Shyvana turning green as she covered her nose.
The docks stunk of sweat, putrid fish and mold. It was an oppressive, cloying stench that hung in the air and your nostrils, like a fog that had settled over the entire area. Jarvan was beginning to worry about Shyvana; he suspected that the smell was even worse for her with her enhanced sense of smell thanks to her dragon heritage. She looked queasy, as if she were about to fall out, and she was beginning to sweat profusely.
"Here." Jarvan said, handing her the water bottle from his belt. The dragoness accepted the bottle with only a nod, uncorking it and tilting it up, pouring some water into her mouth. She corked it back up and handed it back to him, the prince stopping to reattach it to his belt. "This was a bad idea." He muttered, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder, back towards the main city and the front gates.
"No..." Shyvana said weakly. Her face was pale, and despite the chilly air, sweat rolled down her face. "Let's just do this quickly." Jarvan frowned but nodded. He led her further through the docks, doing his best to avoid busy intersections where men tended to congregate, whistling and hounding the tired looking women who stood around. The women acted as if they had goods to sell, but Jarvan knew they had were only looking to lend their bodies to those who came to port. Jarvan recognized what was going on, the red lanterns hung around the streets confirming his suspicions as women led their tricks into shady looking hotels and brothels. He grimaced, watching the men as they entertained themselves with cheap women and even cheaper booze, throwing away their money as if it was burning a hole in their pants.
"This is revolting." Shyvana said nasally, her hand held over her nose. Jarvan had seen many a battlefield that wasn't as daunting and scary as these docks. The smell reminded of the times he had spent working battlefields several days after combat, helping to pile the decomposing bodies to be burned. It had been a chilling moment in his training.
"I know." Jarvan grimaced. "But this is what we fight against as Demacians. This is the true face of Noxus; the realities of the horrors of the filth and moral rot that only show to those who let themselves see it." He was starting to reconsider his chances with the main gate, but the thought of squaring off with several hundred guardsmen wasn't exactly on his list of things to try out while in Noxus. They had been steadily reinforcing the main entrances to the city, and clamping down on the smaller entrances, the frustration the guards felt becoming evident as they came down with a vengeance on the travelers.
"I smell fear." Shyvana said, grimacing. "...Amongst other things. The entire city reeks of fear and the stench of death." She scrunched her nose up as she shivered, her face paling.
"In Demacia, we protect the faithful, and provide no quarter for the wicked." Jarvan said, disgust dripping from his words. "Here, they simply profit from it." He stopped at the top of the slope, a pair of mange ridden mules struggling to haul an overladen cart up through the mud, the driver cracking his whip angrily at the dying animals. Jarvan's stomach turned as he watched the animals suffering, working themselves to death out of fear of the whip.
"Such delicate creatures." Shyvana murmured sadly, watching as the wagon trundled past. Jarvan could see how she shifted her stance, her revulsion evident as she watched the cart move off. He read something else as she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and he could only guess that she felt pity for the animals, seeing a bit of herself in them; how she had been chased and hounded around Valoran for almost all of her life. Jarvan understood her hatred, and he was starting to realize just how sheltered he had been from the plight of these people. They were suffering at the hands of their own government, and it infuriated him even more. Jarvan had been born and bred to hate Noxus and now he understood why.
"Tch." Jarvan grunted, turning back towards the slope that led to the main wharf. A platoon of guardsmen stood along the bottom of the incline, some of them standing around a burning barrel, warming their hands, others doing their best to pester the men and women who were trying to work. They busied themselves with stopping and questioning the last of the mid-morning traffic, most people heading to lunch or home for a meal away from the oppressive stench. Jarvan paused, watching how they stopped people at random, though they also pocketed a fair amount of coin when people didn't wish to undergo the shakedown. Jarvan snorted in disgust, even the military was awash with moral rot and corruption.
"So, what are we doing here?" Shyvana asked, as she leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. She held one hand over her stomach, and Jarvan could see sweat beading on her forehead. She was paler than normal, almost a ghostly white in the overcast light. The humidity and rain wasn't helping her either, and the stench was starting to ferment in the standing water that had been gathering most of the morning. She pulled her hood back and wiped her brow, looking up at the rainy sky, the cool water running down over her face.
"Getting out of this city." Jarvan said with a grimace. "With all of the main gates all locked down, the easiest way out is going to be by ship."
"That'll be the easiest way?" Shyvana asked, apprehensive. Jarvan nodded, ducking back around the stone wall that rose up. He glanced over his shoulder, the streets already having cleared, only the taverns and pubs were seeing good business at this hour. Some men and women still tried to hawk their wares to the meager traffic that roamed the streets, but most people simply ignored the callers, their business elsewhere.
"It'll certainly be easier to deal with than having to fight our way through hundreds of guards on the main thoroughfare." Jarvan noted the dragoness's uneasiness, but he turned back to the problem at hand. How to get rid of a platoon of guardsmen...
Jarvan frowned as he looked down at the platoon of men. He counted fifteen in total, many of them gathered around a barrel that was burning, a canteen getting passed about. The possibility of alcohol made his prospects a bit more enticing, but it wasn't going to make a huge amount of difference in most cases. They would be clumsy and slow if they were intoxicated, but none of them looked to be getting to well gone.
"Would it be possible to simply go around?" Shyvana asked, frowning. Jarvan blinked a few times, and frowned, unfurling his map. He looked at it intently for a few moments, before rolling it back up and shrugging. There were a few other entrances to the lower docks, but they were well protected by Guard posts, toll booths and fortifications. This was the weakest defended location, though it was also the tightest choke point to get through.
"This is the best entrance to the docks." Jarvan shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I suppose we could always just-..."
"Hey baby, you looking for a good time?" A trio of men called, moving towards Shyvana from the doorway of a tavern. As they grew closer, Jarvan could smell booze on them from distance; they reeked of cheap whiskey and rum. He frowned, it was barely after noon and these men were on the verge of collapsing from their drinks.
Shyvana looked around, as if she didn't realize she was the target of their wolf whistles and hoots. "Wha..." She started to say, blushing and backing away.
"Don't try to hide it, babe!" A one of the men drunkenly slurred. "With a pretty face like that, surely you've got a body to match!" Shyvana took a nervous step back, surprised by their comments, unsure of how to react. She felt trapped as her heel hit the wall, glancing left and right as if she was looking to escape.
"Back off!" Jarvan snarled, his face contorting with rage. The men didn't seem to take notice of his anger, approaching her, slovenly looks upon their faces. Shyvana looked to Jarvan, surprised by his anger, but she dropped her head, shaking slightly, her crimson locks bouncing back and forth as water dripped over her face.
"Come on man..." They said, grins upon their faces. "Share the love! We just want to sample the fruit, we'll give her back... almost as good as new." They had drawn within striking distance now, and Jarvan's hand unconsciously raised to the lance he carried upon his back.
Jarvan felt heat begin to radiate from the side, and he turned to see Shyvana's hair and cloak begin to billow around her. "You… you pigs…" Shyvana hissed, her fists trembling. "By the blood of my father, I will end you." Shyvana looked up from under her hair, the crimson locks rustling as she seethed, the heat pouring from her body, steam starting to rise around her. She snarled at the men as they approached, stopping them dead in their tracks. She growled at them, her fangs barred as she looked up from against the wall, breathing heavily. She took a step forward, stomping her foot down. The men paled as the ground shook under foot.
The men screamed in surprise and stumbled back, collapsing onto the ground. The men on the left and right scrambled away and sprinted off, one of them collapsing face first into the mud and then stumbling as he tried to get to his feet. Jarvan snorted as the man finally managed to stumble off, covered in mud from head to toe.
"Get out of the road!" A man atop a covered wagon shouted. Jarvan stepped back, frowning as the wagon trundled forward. One of the men who had approached them sat stunned amid the mud, just watching at the wagon approached. "Move!" The man shot Jarvan a dirty look as he hauled the man out of the mud.
"Ey-ey-ey, boys, I don't want anyone to know about my retirement." The lieutenant said with a frown trembling on his face. "Y-you guys keep your traps shut. Cause you know what they say: People in glass houses sink ships." The officer frowned, watching as his subordinates shook their heads as they burst into muted laughter. "What?"
"Look, Ell-Tee, we really gotta get you a proverb book or something." One of the men said, still chuckling. "This mix and match shit really needs to go."
"A penny saved is worth two in the bush, isn't it?" One of his men giggled, shaking his head, wearing a grin.
"Don't cross the road, if you can't get out of the kitchen." Another practically shouted, laughing hysterically.
"Well..." The Lieutenant shrugged. "What can I say, 'Only the strong survive. Forever strong!'" One of this men slapped the man's shoulder next to him, laughing.
"Damn, Lieutenant, you finally got one!" His men broke down into laughter. "Oi, incoming..." He straightened up and frowned, putting on his best angry face, trying to look menacing.
"Sir, this area is restricted to dock personnel and merchants only." He raised his weapon across his chest. The man on the cart raised his hand in a wave. "Unless you have papers allowing you within…"
"I have all of my papers in order." The merchant said, raising an envelope in his hand. One of the guardsmen raised his hand and waved the man to hand them over. The merchant handed the papers over, sliding a pair of gold coins into the guards hand in a single smooth motion. The guard acted as if nothing had happened, pocketing the gold and then briefly glancing at the produced papers. "What's with all the extra security today?"
"Just some routine inspections is all." The guard said, handing the man his papers back. "You're clear." He waved the cart on through, the men standing at arms before the cart, letting it pass. They watched the cart trundle on by; the bribe was more than enough to get the man a free pass on the inspection. Corruption was simply part of daily life. The guard shrugged, returning to the fire barrel. He handed the coins over to his lieutenant, nodding satisfactorily.
"More for the pot, eh LT?" A guard said, laughing. The LT nodded, pocketing the coin.
"Drinks on me tonight, b-b-boys." The Lieutenant said, grinning. He paused, gesturing to a man stumbling down the slope towards the guard's post.
"Thank god..." The man stammered, collapsing, out of breath. "You have to help me..." The guards exchanged glances and frowned at him. He was covered in mud and had a massive shiner growing on his cheek. "Two people, a man and a woman..."
"Why don't you return to your drinks?" A guard sneered.
"You don't understand!" The drunk said, panting for breath. "They were hiding in that wagon!" He pointed weakly to the covered wagon that had just passed through guard post.
"Sure, and my mother's a yordle." One of the guards laughed. The men burst into laughter, many of them doubling over. The man on the ground looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
"Why the hell would anyone want to get into the docks?" The guard snorted. "Yeah, and I'll bet you're going to tell me one of them was the prince of Demacia." The men snorted and burst into laughter again. The man on the ground looked back and forth between the laughing soldiers, but the Lieutenant wore a serious expression.
"You've got to believe me!" The man stammered. "They said they were from Demacia!" The Lieutenant blinked and then went pale, remembering the briefing he had been given.
"Oh h-h-h... Fuck!" The lieutenant stammered, taking a step back. He scrabbled through his pocket, taking out a crumbled piece of paper. He flattened it out, and held it up to the fire light.
'One man and one woman, both Demacian, may try to escape the city via the docks. Ensure no one without proper authorization gets to the docks. Signed, Captain Ragorn.'
The lieutenant cursed and then shook his head, frustrated. "Robins, Azzil, Peotr, Haultner, Allyn, stay here and guard the road. Rest of you, follow me." He set off at a trot, some of the men looking confused, but they all fell into line with him, taking off towards the wharf, chasing after the wagon. The man on the ground pulled himself to his feet and started to walk away, the confused chatter of the guards that were left at the post starting to echo down the street.
"Where are you heading?" The guard called after him as he started to trudge up the hill.
"Me?" He stammered, pointing to himself. The guard grunted till he put his fists on his hips, nodding angrily. "I'm just heading back to get something I forgot." He turned and took off up the hill.
"Damnit! Go after him!" The guard left in charge shouted to two of the lower ranking guardsmen. He frowned as they disappeared around the corner. "This is a nightmare..." The guard grumbled. He raised his weapon as a man rounded the corner, starting down the slope towards the post. "Eyes up, Azzil, Allyn."
"Halt!" Azzil shouted, the man trudging to a stop a few meters away from the guards. "What business do you have here?"
"I only want to pass." The man said, raising his hands. "I have papers."
"Remove your hood and approach slowly!" The guard said, his hand upon his weapon. The man approached, his hood drawn back to reveal a claw spiked helm, the golden color a deep bronze in the orange firelight. The guard paused for several moments, looking the man up and down, his eyes finally settling on the small crest that held his cloak closed around his neck.
"Oh... oh gods..." The guard muttered, stumbling backwards, quaking in his boots. "You're him... the escaped fighter..." His eyes had grown wide as saucers, his fellow guard wearing a surprised look on his face as he looked on, dumbstruck. "The Demacian..."
"There ya go." Jarvan said with a grin as he leaned forward.
"Where's his companion?" The other guard said, fumbling w`ith his sword, trying to draw it from his belt.
Shyvana dropped from the wall, striking one of the guards on the shoulder with a hammer blow from her elbow, sending him crashing to the ground. She sunk low and swept her foot out, sending another crashing to the ground, the man yelping as he hit the ground, hard. She wheeled about and planted two quick strikes to the lower back as he hit the ground, sending him into convulsions. She spun and swept out with a kick, catching the third guard just below the chin, the strike lofting him and sending him crashing to the ground in a daze. She raised her arm above her head and brought the gauntlet down. The guard she had laid out first was trying to get to his feet, and the blow caught him square in the stomach; he retched, expelling all of air in his body, and he curled up into a ball, grasping at his chest as he struggled to breathe. She planted a second blow on his cheek, the audible crunch of the blow sending a shiver through Jarvan's body.
The prince whistled, impressed, as Shyvana straightened up and brushed the mud from her knees. "A bit overkill, but it'll do."
"Sorry." Shyvana murmured, tugging on her cloak slightly, blushing, though she still looked a bit faint. "I suppose I got a bit too excited." She shook her head and looked back to the guards. Three men, each as big as Jarvan lay out on the ground, two of them knocked out, the third barely able to breath as he continued to retch.
"It's fine." Jarvan said, frowning at the man who still retched on the ground. Shyvana nodded as she adjusted her gauntlet. The weapon had come loose and she needed to tighten the strap a bit. The man who wasn't unconscious finally stopped retching, but his breathing was still ragged.
"Wha-what do you want?" He gasped, his face pale as he lay on the ground, the other guards unconscious around him.
"Us?" Shyvana asked, pointing to herself. The man nodded silently as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did. Only the sound of rain drops striking the helmets of the men that lay upon the ground broke the silence as Jarvan and Shyvana glanced at each other. Shyvana bent over, grinning toothily, showing off her long fangs.
"We're only trying to pass through." Shyvana hissed, the man pushing himself weakly away from her. Jarvan raised the butt of his lance and swung it like a club, knocking out a soldier as he groaned and started to turn over in the mud. His helmet rung like a struck bell. The man who had been retching fell silent, gulping audibly as he shuffled backwards along the ground. Jarvan raised his lance and spun it about, driving it down right between the man's legs. He yelped and then slumped backwards suddenly, leaving Jarvan with a blank look upon his face.
"I think... I think he just fainted..." Jarvan said slowly, blinking as he nudged the man with his foot. "He did faint." Jarvan said, shaking his head. Shyvana chuckled softly, elbowing Jarvan gently in the gut.
"It's your face." Shyvana smiled coyly. "I may be the beast, but you're the real monster when you get angry." Jarvan frowned at her, but simply shook his head, water dripping down his neck.
"Yeah, yeah, Miss Dragon-girl." Jarvan wore an annoyed expression, shouldering his lance and the bag he had dropped earlier. His frown deepened in the creases of his face: the canvas bag dripped as water rolled off of it. "Let's go." Shyvana nodded, falling into step with him as they continued towards the docks. The prince snuck a quick look down at the dragoness; the color had begun to return to her face though she was still pale. They hung an immediate right and made for the ships in berth along the wharf. They passed a number of warehouses, most of them chained shut, and more than one looking as if the entire roof had fallen through.
"This place is a disaster." Jarvan muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Shyvana donned her hood and Jarvan pulled his own hood down over his eyes as a cart trundled past. Jarvan and Shyvana were the only things not covered in filth, and they attracted stares as such. Dockworkers and sailors wandered about eyeing them as they moved towards the ships, walking with the prince and his companion. There was anger on their faces at the thought of competition, most of them obviously looking for new berths upon ships or work within the port.
"Are all ports like this?" Shyvana said, watching the men move about carrying boxes and bags of goods, the rain hardly hampering their work.
"Similar, I suppose." Jarvan said, shrugging. "Though most of them aren't nearly this... dirty."
"That's one word for it." Shyvana muttered, stepping over a dead rat. She shriveled her nose and shook her head, a beggar holding a cup out towards her. She started to stop, looking at Jarvan, but he put and arm around her shoulders and pushed her on, shaking he head discreetly.
"Best not to stop." Jarvan said. "Give one a coin and the rest will come running. Try and blend in and they won't stop us."
"We hardly blend in..." Shyvana said, frowning, glancing back at the squatter, the man's eyes following her. Shyvana felt a pang of grief; she had probably looked like that not but a few weeks ago before Jarvan had come into her life. She felt her stomach turn and she turned her eyes back to the front, forcing herself to take a deep breath. The noxious stench in the air did little to calm her stomach.
"We don't stand out from other privateers." Jarvan whispered, gesturing at a pair of men who stood against a wall, talking quietly amongst themselves. "It's not uncommon for shipping companies to hire privateer vessels to escort their trade ships through the dangerous waters, and mercs like that are the most desirable of crew. They're dirty, ruthless, sure of foot, heavily armed and armored just like us, and willing to do just about anything for a pocket full of silver. The canals aren't problematic, though, it's open water you have to worry about." The men returned Jarvan's nod and turned back to their conversation as Jarvan and Shyvana passed.
"I see." Shyvana murmured softly as they finally approached the ships that lined the wharf, eyeing the vessels with trepidation. Derricks strung with rigging unloaded heavy cargo and men struggled to carry all sorts of other goods and materials from the holds of large ships that sat moored in the narrow harbor.
Jarvan paused, glancing down at Shyvana. "You seem subdued, even for someone with your sensitive nose?" Jarvan gave her shoulder and squeeze, snapping Shyvana's eyes from the ships and the water beyond. "Something wrong, love?"
"Dragons…" Shyvana swallowed heavily, standing up straighter before she continued. "I do not like water. Ships I am not so sure about, but I am not hopeful."
"You'll be fine, Shyvana." Jarvan said softly but confidently, running a hand down her back and guiding her forward. "Ships are as steady as the ground we stood on. All we have to do is find one to stow away on, wait a little while, and we'll be out of here." Jarvan frowned as he paused at the docks. Men swarmed about the area, loading barrels and bags onto one of the larger ships. Jarvan pulled Shyvana aside, skirting towards the edge of the docks, keeping an eye on the business that was being conducted along the docks, looking for a ship that was departing soon, but wasn't heavily guarded. He paused at the top of a dirty set of steps leading down towards the water's edge. He peered over the edge and grinned; a narrow path led along the edge of the water, heavy beams protecting the moored ships from the stones of the wharf.
"Down here." Jarvan said, pulling Shyvana forward, the dragoness clearly uncomfortable around the water. He smiled reassuringly, taking her hand. "Don't worry, I have a plan." Shyvana wore a frown but accepted his hand and disappeared down the narrow path behind him.
"Hurry and get those barrels loaded." A massively fat man bellowed, his bright red beard quivering over top his jowls. He shook his head as he watched a man drop a barrel, the cask splitting open and spilling a cream colored powder over the stone flagons. The fat man groaned, his great belly quivering as he ran a sweaty hand over his head. "I need some grog."
"Hired help these days." A tall gangly man, said, his voice muffled by the bandages that wrapped his chin and mouth. He watched with disinterest as the men quarreled, trying to place the blame on one another, many of them raising their fists as if they were going to fight.
"This had better not push back my departure time." The fat man growled, looking over at the man who had crossed his arms, the limbs deathly thin. The taller of the two was the complete opposite to the fat man: deathly thin but built like hardened steel, and though he was perfectly quiet with every step he took, he moved with purpose and direction. "I paid good money for these ingredients, and I expect them to be delivered in full."
"Worry not, I brought a bit extra in case anything adverse happened." The thin man flagged a few men down and gestured to another barrel that sat on the stone quay. "If you have a problem with anything else..."
"No, this'll do." The massive man said, waving the men away, tossing back some brew from a large flask that he had produced from somewhere. He wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his hand, grunting as he bent over. He hefted the barrel as if it weighed nothing and strode towards the gangway, men watching in awe as they struggled to load the last of the heavy barrels, two men to a cask. The ship listed and the gangway groaned in protest as the man stepped forward onto the reinforced way.
"Get the rest of that loaded! We leave in five." The captain shouted from the deck, as the large man trundled across the gangway, the wooden planks groaning under his weight with every stepas he made his way onto the ship.
"I appreciate the business, Gragas." The tall, balding man said, rolling up his manifest and tucking it away. The large man waved his hands dismissively with a ripple of fat, grinning as the last barrel was loaded, the two men carrying the barrel struggling over the gangway.
"Of course, Singed." Gragas nodded in his direction, watching as men scrambled to unmoor the ship, the large vessel rocking in the shallow waters.
"Last call!" The shout went up as the captain turned towards the massive man.
"The ship is yours, captain."
The Captain nodded as he took over, barking orders and directing the helmsman towards the canal that would lead them around the city and on towards the Guardian's Sea.
Deep below the deck of the ship, Jarvan watched from behind a row of barrels as the fat man waddled along the hold towards a cabin at the bow of the ship. He had only done a cursory inspection of his wares, counting his barrels and making sure he had gotten his money's worth of goods. He grumbled to himself as he took a long pull from his flask and wiped his chin, shaking his head. He paused, looking about before he turned and headed for the stairs that led to the upper decks, leaving Jarvan and Shyvana alone in the hold. Jarvan paused, listening for several long seconds before he pushed the gun port they had come aboard through open again. It had been enlarged at some point to help with the loading and unloading of cargo, and then sealed shut. Jarvan had easily pried it open with his knife though; the weak braces had snapped with only a little pressure. Seeing as no alarm had been raised, he had assumed no one had noticed then boarding.
"Alright, strip down and put everything in here." Jarvan said hurriedly as the ship cleared the walls of the city. He handed Shyvana a burlap sack, the dragoness looking down at the fabric with confusion on her face.
Shyvana blushed furiously as color flooded her cheeks, taken aback by his abruptness. She held her hands over her chest as she turned slightly to the side. "What, here?" She said, flustered. Jarvan paused and looked at her.
"That's not what I meant!" Jarvan hissed, shaking his head, running a hand over his face. "Your armor and gear, just... put it in the bag." Shyvana blushed but nodded and quickly disrobed, stowing all of her gear into the sack and then handing it to Jarvan. All she was left with was a loose tunic and her skivvies.
"Mind explaining what we're doing?" Shyvana asked as a shiver ran up her back and she hugged her arms around herself, frowning at the prince. Jarvan paused what he was doing and looked up at her, blushing a deep crimson red before he busied himself with tying the various sacks closed. He was left with four bundles: Shyvana's armor, their supplies, his armor, and their weapons. He stood up, nodding to himself as he checked the hold, looking for anyone who may have gotten curious as to why a gun port was open. Satisfied that the hold was clear of any other souls, he turned back to Shyvana.
"We're getting off here." Jarvan said he leaned over the railing, looking down the canal for a secluded spot. So far, most of the river had been lined with open fields and razor weed, but Jarvan knew the banks would soon clear. "We don't need to go far outside the city; we're already clear of the area extensively patrolled by the Noxian City Guard."
"And how are we going to do that?" Shyvana asked, frowning. "I don't think the crew of this ship will just let us stroll up to the deck and stop the ship to disembark." She eyed Jarvan as he picked up a bag by the sling and rocked it back and forth. He released the bag at the top of his forward arc, sending it hurling out the gun port towards the shore. Shyvana jumped to the railing watching as the bag disappeared out of sight. "Hey wait! Are you crazy?"
Jarvan leaned out the gun port and grinned as he looked back along the bank. He pointed towards where the bag sat perched on the shore, a short ways back along the edge of the canal. Jarvan heaved the other three bags out in quick succession, making sure they all landed well back from the water.
"This is ridiculous..." Shyvana muttered, shaking her head. "What are we going to do now if we're discovered? You just tossed our armor and weapons out the damned window." She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at Jarvan.
"Don't worry." Jarvan said, grinning tightly. There was something playful dancing in his eyes. "We're not sticking around here long." He took Shyvana's hand and pulled her too him, wrapping her in his arms.
"Jarvan?" Shyvana said curiously, blushing furiously as her body pressed to his bare chest.
"Get ready..." Jarvan murmured, leaning towards the railing, ducking his head and leaning back out of the gun port, looking up the canal.
"Wait!" Shyvana said nervously, starting to piece together what Jarvan was doing. "Jarvan, wait!"
"Time to go!" Jarvan chuckled as he fell backwards, taking Shyvana with him as he went backwards out the gun port.
"Jarvan! I can't swim!" Shyvana practically screamed as they went over the edge and started falling.
Jarvan's mouth was ajar in shock as they broke the surface of the water.