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Barsoom Tales I - COMPLETE
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<blockquote data-quote="barsoomcore" data-source="post: 1488817" data-attributes="member: 812"><p>"That was quick."</p><p></p><p>Etienne looked up as his friends, a little bedraggled from their party efforts, filed into the parlour. Elena frowned at him.</p><p></p><p>"What are you doing up? I thought you were poisoned."</p><p></p><p>"I got better."</p><p></p><p>Uneasy glances passed around the group. Arrafin, oblivious to all that, plopped her slight frame into an armchair and sighed, "I'm exhausted. But I did learn some very interesting things."</p><p></p><p>"Like what?"</p><p></p><p>Isaac sat nearby to listen. Arrafin pushed herself forward and gestured with her hands as she spoke.</p><p></p><p>"Okay, first of all, it turns out that Early Naridic bears a great resemblance to Calegrian. The dropped fricative in the subjunctive mode and the abandoned glottal stop both point to a relationship PRIOR to the emergence of Middle Kishak. It's possible that some of the later translations of works like The Sayings have deliberately obscured this fact to hide Calegrian hegemonic dominance in the pre-Seven period."</p><p></p><p>"Uh-huh," Isaac frowned, "What?"</p><p></p><p>Elena interrupted as Arrafin prepared to plunge into a detailed explanation on phonetic transformations.</p><p></p><p>"More importantly, Isaac's in a duel."</p><p></p><p>This time it was Etienne who frowned.</p><p></p><p>"What?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, we've been in town for, what, nearly twelve hours now?" Elena grinned, "That's more than enough time for Isaac to irritate someone into wanting to kill him."</p><p></p><p>"Hey!"</p><p></p><p>Nevid spoke up.</p><p></p><p>"With Kendorik Oparashan. Tomorrow."</p><p></p><p>Etienne just stared.</p><p></p><p>"Well, it was nice knowing you."</p><p></p><p>Marques burst into the room, chuckling as he peeled off his stiff collar.</p><p></p><p>"Wasn't that fun? I love a good party."</p><p></p><p>Isaac stood and glared at the older man. Marques took in the glare and chuckled harder.</p><p></p><p>"Come, come, lad, it'll be fun. Not everybody gets a duel with Kendorik Oparashan."</p><p></p><p>He only chuckled even harder as Etienne stood, shaking his head.</p><p></p><p>"That's because he kills everyone who does. Isaac, you can't fight this guy. He's the best swordsman in Pavairelle, probably in all Barsoom. He's killed dozens of people, hundreds. You can't fight him. He'll kill you."</p><p></p><p>Even when Isaac's glare turned into a full-blown glower, Marques couldn't stop laughing as he said, "Of course! That's the whole idea."</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>Dawn was still far off. Etienne lay on the warehouse rooftop and peered down through the skylight at Hector. Hector Sarachez, minor kingpin reaching for more than he could handle.</p><p></p><p>Elena had provided the details, garnered from her Kishak trooper admirer. A set of crates marked with del Maraviez crests brought ashore from a vessel owned by the Countess Sara del Istanzic. Crates that just might have been the right size to hold muskets. Crates that had been loaded into this warehouse, owned by sneak and second-rate crime boss Hector, who'd hired a bunch of off-duty Kishak soldiers to guard the place.</p><p></p><p>As guards, they weren't much. Not enough to detect Etienne scrambling up the outside wall of the warehouse, creeping across the roof and finding this skylight into the space below. Hector sat at a trestle table with his booted feet up, tossing a knife and catching it.</p><p></p><p>The very picture of a man killing time. Etienne grinned, and looked up.</p><p></p><p>The others (well, Elena, Nevid and Isaac, anyway; Arrafin had elected to stay home and study her new book) crouched on a rooftop across an alleyway.</p><p></p><p>He was about to wave discreetly and signal for them to join him when something smacked his right leg.</p><p></p><p>Looking down he saw a black shaft protruding from his calf. He frowned, then gasped as the pain hit.</p><p></p><p>He started to stand up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. He collapsed next to the skylight. Faint footfalls approached, and he could hear the soft percussion of muffled crossbows firing. An ambush. Poisoned crossbow bolts. He was rolled onto his back and looked up into a hooded Kishak face.</p><p></p><p><em>Nevakada</em></p><p></p><p>Etienne would have groaned if he'd been able.</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>Elena grabbed Isaac's arm.</p><p></p><p>"Okay, wait, I'm pretty sure they're not following us anymore."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, last time you said that I almost got shot. Keep running."</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>"You know, Etienne's probably in trouble. He might need our help."</p><p></p><p>"He's tough. He can handle himself. Besides, this is his stupid city. Everyone here's crazy."</p><p></p><p>"Isaac, you're the only Saijadani I know who gets mad when people get him into duels. Oh, and Nevid."</p><p></p><p>"Speaking of which, how'd he get so far ahead of us?"</p><p></p><p>"Less talking. More running."</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>"You LEFT him there?"</p><p></p><p>Arrafin stared at her friends in horror.</p><p></p><p>"You just left him there to die?"</p><p></p><p>Elena scowled.</p><p></p><p>"They probably won't kill him."</p><p></p><p>Nevid nodded, agreeing.</p><p></p><p>"Not until he's told them everything about us. Then they'll kill him. And then they'll kill us."</p><p></p><p>Arrafin threw up her hands, pacing the parlour with quick strides.</p><p></p><p>"But we can't leave him there. We have to rescue him or something."</p><p></p><p>"Arrafin, it's..."</p><p></p><p>"It's what? Dangerous? Isaac."</p><p></p><p>The big Saijadani took one look at Arrafin's dark eyes flashing with indignation and surrendered.</p><p></p><p>"Alright. Alright. We'll go get him. Right."</p><p></p><p>Arrafin snatched up her heavy pistol and the four returned to the street.</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>The sky was just beginning to show pink as they returned to the warehouse district. The streets rustled with early-morning activity; bakers starting their ovens and parties of Kishak soldiers finishing their patrols. The four would-be rescuers hurried past dozing masses of Naridic refugees, earning angry glowers from Arrafin.</p><p></p><p>"This is disgraceful! Why aren't these people being looked after?"</p><p></p><p>"It's the war, Arrafin," answered Nevid, reasonable as always, "The Kishaks invaded the Narid and these people came here. What can anyone do?"</p><p></p><p>Arrafin growled, "They can help find decent living conditions for these people."</p><p></p><p>She thought of her father or her brother forced to live like this and clamped down on the angry denunciations that came to mind.</p><p></p><p>"Let's find Etienne."</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>Crouched again on top of the same rooftop from which they'd watched Etienne get shot, the four lay on their stomachs, peering across the alley into the lit window below. Isaac, cursing softly to himself, paid out rope in careful measures. Through the far window they could see two Pavairelleans taking turns beating Etienne. The young half-Kishak looked barely conscious, tied to a cane chair and dripping with blood.</p><p></p><p>"Okay, I think I can tie this here and use it to swing across to that building. Elena, you follow me in. Nevid, Arrafin, you stay here and shoot anything that comes around. Okay?"</p><p></p><p>"Okay."</p><p></p><p>"Okay."</p><p></p><p>Isaac looked down the row of worried faces.</p><p></p><p>"Nevid?"</p><p></p><p>"Oh. Okay. What?"</p><p></p><p>"Never mind."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="barsoomcore, post: 1488817, member: 812"] "That was quick." Etienne looked up as his friends, a little bedraggled from their party efforts, filed into the parlour. Elena frowned at him. "What are you doing up? I thought you were poisoned." "I got better." Uneasy glances passed around the group. Arrafin, oblivious to all that, plopped her slight frame into an armchair and sighed, "I'm exhausted. But I did learn some very interesting things." "Like what?" Isaac sat nearby to listen. Arrafin pushed herself forward and gestured with her hands as she spoke. "Okay, first of all, it turns out that Early Naridic bears a great resemblance to Calegrian. The dropped fricative in the subjunctive mode and the abandoned glottal stop both point to a relationship PRIOR to the emergence of Middle Kishak. It's possible that some of the later translations of works like The Sayings have deliberately obscured this fact to hide Calegrian hegemonic dominance in the pre-Seven period." "Uh-huh," Isaac frowned, "What?" Elena interrupted as Arrafin prepared to plunge into a detailed explanation on phonetic transformations. "More importantly, Isaac's in a duel." This time it was Etienne who frowned. "What?" "Well, we've been in town for, what, nearly twelve hours now?" Elena grinned, "That's more than enough time for Isaac to irritate someone into wanting to kill him." "Hey!" Nevid spoke up. "With Kendorik Oparashan. Tomorrow." Etienne just stared. "Well, it was nice knowing you." Marques burst into the room, chuckling as he peeled off his stiff collar. "Wasn't that fun? I love a good party." Isaac stood and glared at the older man. Marques took in the glare and chuckled harder. "Come, come, lad, it'll be fun. Not everybody gets a duel with Kendorik Oparashan." He only chuckled even harder as Etienne stood, shaking his head. "That's because he kills everyone who does. Isaac, you can't fight this guy. He's the best swordsman in Pavairelle, probably in all Barsoom. He's killed dozens of people, hundreds. You can't fight him. He'll kill you." Even when Isaac's glare turned into a full-blown glower, Marques couldn't stop laughing as he said, "Of course! That's the whole idea." ***** Dawn was still far off. Etienne lay on the warehouse rooftop and peered down through the skylight at Hector. Hector Sarachez, minor kingpin reaching for more than he could handle. Elena had provided the details, garnered from her Kishak trooper admirer. A set of crates marked with del Maraviez crests brought ashore from a vessel owned by the Countess Sara del Istanzic. Crates that just might have been the right size to hold muskets. Crates that had been loaded into this warehouse, owned by sneak and second-rate crime boss Hector, who'd hired a bunch of off-duty Kishak soldiers to guard the place. As guards, they weren't much. Not enough to detect Etienne scrambling up the outside wall of the warehouse, creeping across the roof and finding this skylight into the space below. Hector sat at a trestle table with his booted feet up, tossing a knife and catching it. The very picture of a man killing time. Etienne grinned, and looked up. The others (well, Elena, Nevid and Isaac, anyway; Arrafin had elected to stay home and study her new book) crouched on a rooftop across an alleyway. He was about to wave discreetly and signal for them to join him when something smacked his right leg. Looking down he saw a black shaft protruding from his calf. He frowned, then gasped as the pain hit. He started to stand up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. He collapsed next to the skylight. Faint footfalls approached, and he could hear the soft percussion of muffled crossbows firing. An ambush. Poisoned crossbow bolts. He was rolled onto his back and looked up into a hooded Kishak face. [i]Nevakada[/i] Etienne would have groaned if he'd been able. ***** Elena grabbed Isaac's arm. "Okay, wait, I'm pretty sure they're not following us anymore." "Yeah, last time you said that I almost got shot. Keep running." ***** "You know, Etienne's probably in trouble. He might need our help." "He's tough. He can handle himself. Besides, this is his stupid city. Everyone here's crazy." "Isaac, you're the only Saijadani I know who gets mad when people get him into duels. Oh, and Nevid." "Speaking of which, how'd he get so far ahead of us?" "Less talking. More running." ***** "You LEFT him there?" Arrafin stared at her friends in horror. "You just left him there to die?" Elena scowled. "They probably won't kill him." Nevid nodded, agreeing. "Not until he's told them everything about us. Then they'll kill him. And then they'll kill us." Arrafin threw up her hands, pacing the parlour with quick strides. "But we can't leave him there. We have to rescue him or something." "Arrafin, it's..." "It's what? Dangerous? Isaac." The big Saijadani took one look at Arrafin's dark eyes flashing with indignation and surrendered. "Alright. Alright. We'll go get him. Right." Arrafin snatched up her heavy pistol and the four returned to the street. ***** The sky was just beginning to show pink as they returned to the warehouse district. The streets rustled with early-morning activity; bakers starting their ovens and parties of Kishak soldiers finishing their patrols. The four would-be rescuers hurried past dozing masses of Naridic refugees, earning angry glowers from Arrafin. "This is disgraceful! Why aren't these people being looked after?" "It's the war, Arrafin," answered Nevid, reasonable as always, "The Kishaks invaded the Narid and these people came here. What can anyone do?" Arrafin growled, "They can help find decent living conditions for these people." She thought of her father or her brother forced to live like this and clamped down on the angry denunciations that came to mind. "Let's find Etienne." ***** Crouched again on top of the same rooftop from which they'd watched Etienne get shot, the four lay on their stomachs, peering across the alley into the lit window below. Isaac, cursing softly to himself, paid out rope in careful measures. Through the far window they could see two Pavairelleans taking turns beating Etienne. The young half-Kishak looked barely conscious, tied to a cane chair and dripping with blood. "Okay, I think I can tie this here and use it to swing across to that building. Elena, you follow me in. Nevid, Arrafin, you stay here and shoot anything that comes around. Okay?" "Okay." "Okay." Isaac looked down the row of worried faces. "Nevid?" "Oh. Okay. What?" "Never mind." [/QUOTE]
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