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Vhalar 27, 717
"Speech"
Climbing in the Etzori fashioned rowboat was a mission onto itself. Luckily for the two women present, their retainer was of agile body and wits. Correcting the balance as they entered was the only way to prevent the esteemed blackguard from maintaining her dignity and not falling into the canal water. The bewitched clone of his client, however seemed to have a much easier time with her jovial attitude towards everything.
Their dynamic was a simple one: Zipper grumbled and bitched, Zapper stole her original’s insults away with her positive go-girl approach to every single little thing she came across. He saw her trying to delicately separate two sparring cockroaches earlier.
It would be Gangui’s duty to row the boat of course. No stranger to laborious toil, he immediately went to work, after removing his steel helm and colbalt coif. The long dark hair hung thick and right above the shoulders, a contrast to his lighter auburn facial stubble. His sword at a ready and his nerves steeled, the man in the turkey tabard began to row.
It was a slow pace at first, the contracted retainer was no sailor. The canal system was hype with traffic. The only hope he had to actually be successful was to simply stick to one side and heave them forward. He wanted to mention to Zipper she should have hired someone else to do this, but he agreed to it and he wanted to make his client happy. Foster’s Landing was truly rubbing off on him.
“Aye, the canals,” Gangui spoke short and in between the pull of the oars, “The marvel of what man can do without the face of the Immortals controlling their affairs,” He nodded at the passing vessels laden with the goods and resources that flowed in and out of the port.
“It’s a marvel of architecture,” Zipper allowed, barely even looking at any of it.
“It’s very, very pretty,” Zapper added, nodding along. Zipper didn’t even turn her way to glare at this point; she was too tired, too annoyed, too paranoid of the clone slitting her throat in the dead of the night to have slept well enough to care anymore. “Foster’s should be proud of their work, Mister Gangui.”
Holding off from heaving for a Bit, the boat continued forward on it’s own momentum. Zipper was a blackguard, a woman from the Citadel, her mind seemed to be too engaged with her work and desire for power to take a moment to understand the true gravitas of Harbor at Foster’s Landing. Zapper on the other hand, too stupid and naive to understand why she was saying what she was saying at all. Sighing, he picked up the oars again.
“Immortals give you blessings and curses. False causes and petty wars. Their personal domains are above all reason. This harbor here, ladies, is the fruit of Man. It was built so that the flow of goods to the city happens with the least amount of time and labor as possible. It brings wealth and prosperity. It actually helps man and allows of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of lives to be saved from incessant and unnecessary toil. Thisis a product of true liberty, for only men emancipated from the Immortals would dare create this place, ladies,” Gangui took a deep breath as he paused to row, “ I’d figure that you’d understand Zipper,”
“I do,” Zipper said. “And it’s still taking too long.”
“At least we get to see these wonderful sights.” Zapper said. A seagull landed on the rowboat and, uncharacteristically, gently dropped a ribbon onto Zapper’s lap. She giggled.
‘Why won’t you die, you horrible, revolting ray of sunshine?’ A stray comment from Robin as they departed on the tour of city had implied that Zipper and Robin had exhausted nearly everything in their magical arsenal trying to banish, separate, or murder Zapper - to no avail. The rogue Oberan’s witchcraft was here to stay for the foreseeable future.
Gangui shook his head at the two women. Ever since the incident with the carriage, things were far from usual. Every day after Tanvi’s kiss was more surprising than the last. Was the Red Flower a curse? He ignored these thoughts and the attitudes of the two women, soldiering on.
“The canals enter and exit the warehouses and supply houses as well making horses and carts not necessary around here,” Gangui took a deep breath through his nose, “Notice the lack of shit?”
The paddling was beginning to make the man sweat, especially passing through the wakes of the heavier skiffs. His words did not show his strain though, “Ahh, we are coming up on the Treasure Trove,”
Their dynamic was a simple one: Zipper grumbled and bitched, Zapper stole her original’s insults away with her positive go-girl approach to every single little thing she came across. He saw her trying to delicately separate two sparring cockroaches earlier.
It would be Gangui’s duty to row the boat of course. No stranger to laborious toil, he immediately went to work, after removing his steel helm and colbalt coif. The long dark hair hung thick and right above the shoulders, a contrast to his lighter auburn facial stubble. His sword at a ready and his nerves steeled, the man in the turkey tabard began to row.
It was a slow pace at first, the contracted retainer was no sailor. The canal system was hype with traffic. The only hope he had to actually be successful was to simply stick to one side and heave them forward. He wanted to mention to Zipper she should have hired someone else to do this, but he agreed to it and he wanted to make his client happy. Foster’s Landing was truly rubbing off on him.
“Aye, the canals,” Gangui spoke short and in between the pull of the oars, “The marvel of what man can do without the face of the Immortals controlling their affairs,” He nodded at the passing vessels laden with the goods and resources that flowed in and out of the port.
“It’s a marvel of architecture,” Zipper allowed, barely even looking at any of it.
“It’s very, very pretty,” Zapper added, nodding along. Zipper didn’t even turn her way to glare at this point; she was too tired, too annoyed, too paranoid of the clone slitting her throat in the dead of the night to have slept well enough to care anymore. “Foster’s should be proud of their work, Mister Gangui.”
Holding off from heaving for a Bit, the boat continued forward on it’s own momentum. Zipper was a blackguard, a woman from the Citadel, her mind seemed to be too engaged with her work and desire for power to take a moment to understand the true gravitas of Harbor at Foster’s Landing. Zapper on the other hand, too stupid and naive to understand why she was saying what she was saying at all. Sighing, he picked up the oars again.
“Immortals give you blessings and curses. False causes and petty wars. Their personal domains are above all reason. This harbor here, ladies, is the fruit of Man. It was built so that the flow of goods to the city happens with the least amount of time and labor as possible. It brings wealth and prosperity. It actually helps man and allows of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of lives to be saved from incessant and unnecessary toil. Thisis a product of true liberty, for only men emancipated from the Immortals would dare create this place, ladies,” Gangui took a deep breath as he paused to row, “ I’d figure that you’d understand Zipper,”
“I do,” Zipper said. “And it’s still taking too long.”
“At least we get to see these wonderful sights.” Zapper said. A seagull landed on the rowboat and, uncharacteristically, gently dropped a ribbon onto Zapper’s lap. She giggled.
‘Why won’t you die, you horrible, revolting ray of sunshine?’ A stray comment from Robin as they departed on the tour of city had implied that Zipper and Robin had exhausted nearly everything in their magical arsenal trying to banish, separate, or murder Zapper - to no avail. The rogue Oberan’s witchcraft was here to stay for the foreseeable future.
Gangui shook his head at the two women. Ever since the incident with the carriage, things were far from usual. Every day after Tanvi’s kiss was more surprising than the last. Was the Red Flower a curse? He ignored these thoughts and the attitudes of the two women, soldiering on.
“The canals enter and exit the warehouses and supply houses as well making horses and carts not necessary around here,” Gangui took a deep breath through his nose, “Notice the lack of shit?”
The paddling was beginning to make the man sweat, especially passing through the wakes of the heavier skiffs. His words did not show his strain though, “Ahh, we are coming up on the Treasure Trove,”
Boxcode credit: Yolande
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