HeartOfFerria

Prologue: The Hunt for Captian Greyhawk.

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Adamina, in a flight of panic upon hearing the guard coming her way, scanned the surrounding area with fervent determination to get the jump on the man, but thankfully she heard the sounds of running and the smacking of something solid on the back of someone's head.  She sighed in relief, quickly concluding it was Daniel, and checked around the corner before stepping into view.

That works wonderfully.  Thank you, she gave voice internally, pausing to hear above the scuffing of the goon's being dragged off out of sight and mind.  It was very quiet on the ship, and that silence was very welcome to her ears.  She grabbed the other goon nearby and too carted him off to an inconspicuous location near Daniel.  There was always the third one down the far hall, who she had stashed away already.

"This silence and the small quarters tell that we are the only ones conscious on this ship," she spoke in person, sighing and feeling confident now that she was hearing her own voice again.  "Finally I can speak again.  No offense to you, but I have difficulty talking with your mental link.  It's . . . different.  Now, let's probe these guys for information and find this captain.  Surely they would be able to give us something, and now that we are alone we can take our time prodding their memories."

 

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Solomond laughed. “It certainly is gonna hurt. I wouldnt lie to you my friend” he holds up his torch gun. “It will definitly be quick. Fire and flesh is what im best with. Well that and people.... to an extent.... specifically people that sell things..... like information...... or booze...” he kept trailing on. “Anyways yes itll be quick and yes ill let you take some pain meds.. you will definitly need it. Do you think the bullet is still in there? “

 

 

The room in the ship remains deftly quiet

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Tibarn chuckled darkly, ripping off his torn jacket and shirt so that Solomond would have better access to his wound.  "You're an awful people person, Solomond.  They only sell you things because they feel sorry that you're so awful."  He winced as pain lanced up his neck, as in punishment for his terrible joke.

"Well, be quick about it.  Let's just get this over with.  I wanna live, so I'll just grit my teeth and bear whatever you've got comin' for me."  Upon Solomond's question the brunet circled his shoulder around and shrugged.  "I think it was a clean shot, thankfully.  Granted I don't get shot often to say for sure, but I'm pretty sure that the bullet made its exit."

As he awaited Solomond's fiery wrath he tried to think of Adamina's lovely plumage, and how he would love to stroke those lovely feathers . . . at least once before she killed him.  There was a time that he wanted to stroke Eclaire's furry kitty ears, too, but she didn't take particularly kindly to it.  He long since stopped wishing for it.

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