Purses and mana-lamps

Yelrona is standing on a small table engaged in an animated discussion with two tall humans. They don't seem precisely _friendly_, though not hostile either.

The Ox attracts a certain kind of clientele: generally smelly, unwashed, and only partly sober. At best, 'shady' would be the best of descriptions.

But among those sometimes come mercenaries to stride among the ne'erdowells; Korra joins these with a weary expression, longsword sheathed at her hip (peace-knotted, as required), and arm bandaged in a loose sling. "Ale," she calls out to whomever might be listening. "Dark. And leave the crawlers out of it!"

Yelrona calls over her shoulder "But the crawlers are the best part!" before coming to what seems like an agreement with the pair. They shrug, nod, and leave the Ox, Rona makes a note in a small notepad and hops off the table. "Not to mention the most nutritious thing in here. How'd you hurt your arm?" She doesn't really seem to have the concept of "private".

Korra grimaces, seating herself at a rickety table as she glances at the short elf. "On business," she states shortly-- relenting with a sigh. "Well, unpleasant business. I was riding with Blackroot's Lancers, and things went sour." She winces again, adjusting the sling around her arm with a grumble. "Just back into the city, and had to pay appropriate respects. Then, maybe, temple!"

GAME: Yelrona rolls knowledge/military theory: (19)+7: 26

"Oh no! I hope they're all right," Rona frowns. "Well, I mean, as all right as the Lancers ever are. I'm no temple, but can I offer Tarien's Grace?"

Korra barks out rough laughter, humming cheerfully-- and mopre so as the dark brew finally appears. "First 'graces' first," she says, raising her mug with one good hand. She barks out again, words quick and short: "For those left behind!" she calls-- a phrase answered by a few of the rougher patrons in turn. She slugs the drink back, visibly fighting back a wince as she finishes her glass. "Way too few," she murmurs, turning the cup, slamming it to the table, upside down. "And too many of them dead."

She stretches, looking more closely at the short elf. "So what brings one of Tarien's little bundles of mischief out today? I thought you were all night-skitterers!"

"For those left behind," Rona echoes, a moment of solemnity passing across her usually animated features. She doesn't have a drink at the moment, but it doesn't seem to stop her. She approaches Korra, hopping onto a nearby railing to establish easier eye contact -- apparently she does that a lot -- and regards her arm with a professional air. "Some of us come out during the day," she replies, completely straight-faced. "It leaves everyone wondering what we're up to."

Korra returns the gaze with sharp appraisal, pausing to take another breath before she nods. "No arguing that point from me," she replies, lips finally breaking in a smile. She reaches up, removing her helm; dark locks fall in a serried shock of black-- it might have been a ponytail once. Setting the steel helm to the counter with a thunk,she leans back, shifting to offer the Tarienite better view of her arm.

"Archer got lucky with an arrow," she explains more carefully. "

Korra continues, "Captain Blackroot was hasty. Lucky my arm is all that got punctured!"

Yelrona nods. "Hey boss!" she calls out, to nobody in particular, "You ever hear the one about the mercenary who took an arrow to her left arm?" She pauses a moment, then adds "Don't worry... she's all right, now."

Most of the regulars roll their eyes. A few laugh. A warm healing glow spreads over Korra's arm.

GAME: Yelrona casts Cure Moderate Wounds. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15

Korra closes her eyes, squeezing them shut as she fights a groan. Not at the healing, but *possibly* for the words!

"That calls for another mug," she mutters, fighting the twitch of her lips. She forces her arm still as the healing warmth flows through; fingers twitch on their own as she scratches the table. "What is it about Tarien's healing that leaves me wanting to squirm?" she asks, sighing as the spells works its magic. "Thank you. I'll stop by to pay proper *temple* respects."

Yelrona laughs. "Funny... I grew up in an Elunite temple, and always felt the same way about the Seers' spells. I suppose it's all a matter of where our souls find their true home. Though I'll admit, there are a few Luckbringers who are... er... not entirely delighted with my approach to divine magic." She shrugs. "So... that Captain Blackroot was hasty surprises nobody, I suppose. But is whatever shot you a threat the rest of us should be concerned with?"

Korra pffts, snorting as she stretches the once-injured limb. "As a city, I doubt it," she answers, flexing her fingers gingerly. "The mission, such as it was, was to go in, look vicious and mean and terrible to some luckless village. Ride around, make noise, get paid by the local baronet after the village begs him for protection from 'bandits'. She eyerolls, un ravelling the bandaging from her arm. "I think they got the local druids involved. Some of those Blackcloaks turned out to be pretty vicious with a bow."

Yelrona shakes her head, clearly not especially surprised. "Yelrona," she says, extending a hand to shake the now-healed one. "So, I take it you didn't get paid, then?"

The Phurai accepts the offered hand in turn, clasping with a firm, grateful squeeze. "Korra," she offers, "And hells no. Broke two lances before a shot took my arm, and mad vines made charging a moot point." She wads the bandage, stuffing it quickly in a pack at her side. "The Captain coaxed us for one more sally, but we'd had enough. Too cheap to pony for clerics, mages, or a card sharp with hat-tricks." She snorts, muttering.

Yelrona nods in understanding. It's not too unusual a story, really. The village in this case was lucky to have the support of local druids, but certainly seemed to deserve that support... had Rona been there, she would have fought on their side as well. She doesn't say any of that, though. "I hope your next employer is more... deserving," she says instead. "Anything lined up?

"Drink, food, temple, roll in the hay with some young and worthy sort--" Korra stretches her arms over her head, relishing the newfound freedom. Two limbs! "And choose my companies more carefully. Gods, what a ridiculous mess that was." She takes a sniff back towads the kitchen, shaking her head as she turns away. "But else... not a thing, yet. Might stalk around the Adventuriong guildhouse, see if there's something that doesn't require you to go in the sewer again." She shudder, quivering. "*Gods*!"

Yelrona laughs, signaling for another round of drinks for the pair on her tab. "The Guildhouse is always a good choice for coin," she agrees, wrinkling her nose. "But yes, well, sewers. There's that. I know of some merchants around here who could use a guard... pay's not much, but the work is easy. Well. Except when it isn't, apparently," she adds, frowning.

Korra leans back in her chair, stretching her legs as she glances curiously. "Trouble for the merchanters?" she asks, waiting for the next round to come. "I'd heard all was quiet before I signed up with Blackroot. There was the usual caravan positions, but they paid little. Or were on ships." She sketches a warding sign in the air-- pray protect from ship and the seas! "Back where I started now, but.. well..."

"Not for the merchants themselves," Rona clarifies, "but for their workers. Laborers, mostly, but careless guards as well." She frowns and adds "As near as I can figure it out, Veyshan is trading with the Syndicate. Slaves for... well, I'm not sure for what, yet. Sage brew, at least, but I suspect that's the least of it."

Korra frowns, bowing her head as she traces a fingernail across the table. "Veyshan is known for fine steeds, mysterious treasures, and unspeakable desert horrors. But nobody is about to attribute them compassion." She sighs heavily, grumbling. "They'll sooner track bloodlines for horses-- or children! -- than do better. But no one can say they aren't skillful traders too."

She twirls her fingers, idly raching up to brush her locks back. "Slavers," she murmurs to herself, sighing quietly. "Gotta be through shipping. Anything else would require magecraft, and their services cost more than a single shipload is worth.'

Yelrona nods. "Exactly my thinking. I've been trying to keep an eye on what ships are docking where when," she says, pulling out her notebook and unfolding a piece of parchment full of not-entirely-comprehensible notes... not a code, so much as a private system of shorthand... that, sure, might be a record of ships docking, why not? THere's a list of names, most of which have been crossed off. "I haven't been able to find where they're storing the people they kidnap in time to DO anything about it, but they can't keep it secret forever. So when I find out about a place, I can cross-check with shipping routes, and... EVENTUALLY... cross names off my list. Which takes TOO TAARA-DAMNED LONG but... what can you do?"

A bar worker arrives with two drinks, one of whatever Korra was drinking, and one shotglass of a bitter-smelling fizzy thing, which Rona tosses down in a single gulp.

Korra leans back in her chair, digesting the words thoughtfully as she rests. "A few years ago," she says, gazing up at the ceiling. "I was part of a group tasked to patrol coastlines. There might be caves here, where they keep kidnapped persons." She glances down, considering. "Far enough to be out of city-sight; close enough for easy travel by small craft. Without magic, they might use a powerful herb to render them senseless."

Yelrona thinks about it, and nods. "I've mostly been paying attention to abandoned warehouses being used for the purpose, because that's where my contacts are, but yes, that's like searching for a lost purse near a mana-lamp because the light is better, when you lost it half a mile away. Could you show me where those caves are?"

Korra nods, shoving her chair back-- grabbing her mug first. "There's half-a-dozen of them, some easier to reach than others." She quaffs the mug quickly-- slugging down the second round in a few swift seconds! "You'll..." She pauses, glancing carefully. "...can you ride? If not, we can double up for Breeze. It's going to be a day trip, however we do it."

Yelrona smiles. "Not... well," she admits. "But I don't weigh much?"

Korra smirks, nodding as she finishes off her drink. "Let me settle into town first," she says reluctantly. "We can ride the slopes during the day, then again come evening and night. Luckily, we'll find something unsuspecting." She raises a hand, a warning pause. "If we aren't lucky, we'll find them-- and they'll be ready. Be ready for a conflict, just in case."

"Oh, of course, I didn't mean _right now_," Rona says, having totally meant right now and not even doing her new friend the courtesy of a Bluff roll. "But yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you!"