[Faldrass] Ganging aft a-gley

[Faith Augustin]

12th Ymiden, 717

"I accept and understand what you are saying." Faith said and, it had to be said, the look she gave him was both arch and teasing at the same time. "On the trial we get married, I probably don't want to be cooking, or decorating the cake. I can do those things the trial before. However." Her silver eyes looked at him with a determined expression. "If we hold the party here, then we are going to spend the trial we get married surrounded by people who are more beautiful than is natural or even possible. Plus, it costs a fortune." She shook her head and came close, metaphorically speaking, to stamping her foot. It was only ever with him she was like this, of course. When Katie had said that she thought Faldrass was the perfect place for the wedding, Faith had paled and kept quiet.

That was Katie, though. Him? Well that was a different story.

"I'm uncomfortable enough with the idea of people looking at me as it is. Let alone if I'm the tiny-teeny doll that you could put in your pocket surrounded by tall, athletic beautiful people." Katie's assessment of her as a 'tiny person' had not gone down entirely well with Faith it had to be said, despite how accurate it was. However, she recognised that she hadn't argued so had no right to do anything about it. At least he'd asked Niv to be his attendant, she thought; one person in this wedding would be shorter than her. Faith rather defensively adjusted her sword belt, just reminding herself it was there. Noticing his glance and expression, she pointed out the obvious. "It's a sword if you're this small. Shush."

It was a lot of things to consider, and Faith knew that they had to make some decisions now. Faldrass resort prided itself on its exclusivity, after all, and that meant it got booked up quickly. So the impossibly beautiful woman had told them in an attempt to get them to commit themselves to the place. And pay the deposit.

Faith glanced at him and sighed, then accepted the inevitable. "Fine. I won't cook, I won't make cakes or learn to arrange flowers to save a few coppers." Had she mentioned that plan, she wondered? Maybe not. She maintained that it was a good one. "I don't know how to do this. It's impossible to please everyone." Which was, of course, what she was trying to do. Please each person they would invite, make it good for them. She was rather missing the point but she had no clue that she was doing so.

Slipping her arm around his waist, Faith pulled herself close to him as they walked out of the resort. It had to be said, it had taken a lot for her to not just cave and book everything. The woman they'd met had been good at her job and that job was sales. "Do you feel guilty for not booking it? I mean, Jo said it would be best for all the guests, and they do have accommodation, too. People might think it's more comfortable." Jo, the saleswoman, had quickly identified that other people's comfort was important to Faith. There had followed a masterful sales pitch which had focused on how getting married there would be the most comfortable, most accessible to those guests who had come from a distance.

It had nearly worked, but Jo had made the mistake of directing the pitch at Faith. Having seen quickly that the young woman's wishes were what was forefront of Padraig's mind, she'd targeted appropriately. Yet it had been what stopped it from working, "I just didn't like that she was talking to me about guests and what they wanted." Faith's mind was clear on that, "What you want was just getting ignored and I'm not having that."

That was probably the issue, Faith realised and she looked up at him and smiled. "You know, there's no one here with an opinion except me and you." Which was nice, and rare enough to warrant mentioning. "Shall we go sit on the sand and just decide what we want, then the rest of the world can fall in line or not?" If they couldn't do this in a way that was right for everyone else, well that was what it was. It would be right for them.

[Padraig]

"Our wedding trial is not supposed to be an opportunity to show off your baking skills," Padraig had argued, regarding her plans of how to spend the brightening before their wedding. "It's my opportunity to show the world what a lucky man I am, and to show off my beautiful bride." He was teasing her on the one hand, and dead serious on the other. So far as he was concerned, she was becoming so immersed in the details that she was forgetting the most important thing of all. Her.

Holding the wedding at the resort would cost a fortune, yes, but there was no possible way she'd be outshone by the staff there. He assured her of that, though admittedly they did a very fine job of trying. Katherine of course had up and run with the prospect of conducting a wedding, without being asked and even he had been unable to slow her down once she'd worked up a good headwind. But it wasn't her wedding, after all. "It's ours. And maybe I should speak to grandfather about it."

By now he'd accepted that it was Cyrus who was the only one with a chance of slowing down his companion. He grinned a little when she adjusted her 'sword', which for anyone else was an oversized dagger. "I realize we've go to accommodate our guests to a degree. They should be comfortable wherever we do it." However, he added, she ought stop trying to please everyone else. It wasn't everyone else's wedding. "I've got no objection to the island," he added. But what about a cliff or picturesque beach looking over the sea instead, Padriag wondered?

So no, he didn't feel uncomfortable for not booking the resort. Finally though they'd seemed to reach a similar conclusion and some time on the beach, just the two of them seemed like a very fine idea. "I know just the spot," he said, and soon enough she'd realize that the place he had in mind was the same where they'd watched the curious creatures frolicking in the waves once before. Of course it was also the place where a madman had popped in and appeared to them both. But surely the fates would look more kindly on them this time.

[Faith Augustin]

"Oh, no, please don't." Faith looked horrified at the thought of Padraig speaking to his grandfather about Katie. "She's just trying to help and her heart is in the right place. She just wants to be useful, you know." As completely unlike either of them as Katie was, Faith thought that she was a fundamentally a nice person who was maybe just trying too hard. If Padraig got involved there, it might just drive a wedge between him and his grandfather ~ Faith would hate that. She determined that she'd try harder not to show her frustration with Katie.

He liked the idea of a bit of time on the beach, just the two of them, and Faith had to admit to the same. He chose a spot and she beamed in delight, recognising it as they arrived. "I don't know where you get the idea that you're the lucky one, you know. You are quite wrong." Contentedly, she shrugged off her jacket and put it down for the two of them to sit on, then sat and nestled into his arms. Looking out to the sea, she wondered if they'd see the creatures playing out there again.

For a few moments, Faith just sat there and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was more than content to simply be there the two of them. However, there were things about this wedding that they needed to sort out and one of them, she recognised, was her and her understanding of her role in it. They had to talk about this, she knew, so she turned around so she was kneeling on the sand in front of him.

"I'd like it to be a place dedicated to Vri. He heard me call when hairbrush-face hurt you. I'd consider it like inviting him, really." She put her hands in his and moved over so they were as close as they could be. "Lets just do it our way? I don't care about anything else" She frowned at him as she said that, wanting to make sure he understood. "I care very much about us, about that trial and all the ones before and after. But we could be in a cave and covered in dust and I would... see some burly men coming towards us. Padraig." The last words were in an entirely different tone and Faith was already standing up.

There were seven men, walking towards them from behind where he'd been sitting. If Faith hadn't turned around, they'd never have seen them coming. Big and burly was a was a good description; all seven of them were armed and they didn't look friendly. Judging by their clothing, jewelry and general demeanor, one could consider them seafarers on a good trial. But they both knew what a pirate looked like, and they fit the bill.

Seven of them, one stepped forward, three behind him with hands on sword hilts. Those three were spaced out, but not a massive amount. Behind them were the three with crossbows. These were loaded and in their hands, though not pointing at the pair yet. The man who stepped forward, though, was taller than Padraig by a head and about as wide as Faith was tall.

"Well, well. We're 'ere to meet Bobbie, but I don't think that's you. You Bobbie boy?" He gave a chuckle and motioned to Faith, "That yer wench, aye? Sweet. How much are this pair worth, d'ya reckon, Jim?"

Jim (who was one of the men with the sword) spat on the ground and then considered. "Fair bit, I'd wager. Specially her, Roberts . Still, he might be Bobbie, though, he's a slippery fish."

The first one looked back at Padraig after he'd allowed a slow roaming gaze over Faith which had made her move just that little bit closer to Padraig. "You Bobbie, lad?" Padraig might notice just a flicker of genuine uncertainty in his eyes.

"Maybe we should ask Cap'n Burns?" This snippet came from one of the ones at the back but he was shushed by his companions as Roberts glanced, trying to ascertain if they'd heard that.

[Padraig]

If she'd rather he didn't, genuinely would rather he didn't, then Padraig wouldn't speak to his grandfather about Katherine. For all the good it would have done anyway, rather than make things worse.

Chances were, his grandfather would have to be blind and deliberately obtuse not to realize that she was...a little much to take in except in small doses. But for Padraig to say it could only cause tension between them. And he'd rather not, that. "I'm sure she means well," he conceded, though secretly he thought he might have to purchase a set of earplugs for his own peace of mind.

They would do it their way, they'd agreed once they arrived at the beach and found just that spot where they'd sat before and watched the creatures playing in the surf. Maybe they would make another showing, he told her. A cave, covered in dust would be just fine, she told him...and burly men coming towards them? Padraig frowned and uttered, "It doesn't sound very romantic Faith," he uttered. "Maybe that's a step too far." But then of course, he noticed the look in her eyes, and where she was looking in particular.

He looked around first, and by the time she was on her feet so was he. In front of her, between her and them. Seven of them, each one of them larger than ordinary men ought to be and well armed. And if all the stories were accurate, they couldn't be other than pirates. Not good, he thought. If those men were up to no good, and they looked just that, this couldn't possibly go well.

His first instinct had been to reach for his sword but on second thought he just kept his hand near it. To do otherwise, him against seven, would be suicide. Though in truth, the mark on his arm began to glow, covered over by his shirt sleeve. Bobbie? one of them said when they were close enough and Padraig thought right, wrong place, wrong time to come to the beach.

His mind raced as he considered, what next? They'd clearly come expecting to meet someone. And when they discovered it wasn't him, they wouldn't want any witnesses to what they were doing here. He and Faith weren't prepared to take on all seven at once, it could only end in them being dead or enslaved. But it was only when they noticed Faith and he saw the look in their eyes that his decision was made. He knew what that look meant.

"Keep your hands off of her," he warned roughly. "She's mine. And aye, I'm Bobbie," Padraig added in a way Faith had never heard him speak before. "What of it?" Immortals, he hoped it wasn't a mistake. And a deadly one. But at the moment, stalling for time seemed their likeliest path to walk away from this in one piece.

[Faith Augustin]

Romantic? "No, Padraig, it's happening again!" She'd said, as he pointed out that big burly men coming towards them wasn't very romantic and she motioned with her eyes. He saw them, though, and the pair of them stood together. Padraig immediately put himself between her and them, as he always would and Faith put her hand on his back, just so that he knew she was there.

Then, though, the pirates spoke and the voice which came out of Padraig would have delighted her if she wasn't so afraid that he was going to get himself hurt. Evidently, though, they were looking for Bobbie and Padraig had decided that it was better that he be Bobbie. It was sensible, she thought, to do that. It bought them time and as the band on her arm glowed, she held it behind him, so the pirates didn't see it. It was the first time that she'd experienced a situation like this with Padraig since the blessing by Qylios had become apparent and as he stood in front of her she understood just how powerful it was.

She couldn't hear his thoughts but even more than usual, she knew what he was thinking. Faith stayed behind him, suddenly aware of the level of anxiety, the depth of protectiveness he had for her. He needed her to play a role here, and if that meant the men in question underestimated her, well that would be no bad thing if it did come to a fight. So, she kept quiet and she half hid behind him. Trusting that the bond they now shared would mean that he would know her motives even more than he usually did made it easier. He wouldn't be worried that she was actually terrified and, she hoped, he also knew that she wasn't about to charge off like a lunatic.

"Yer Bobbie?" Roberts (the one who was doing most of the talking) said and he looked Padraig up and down. "You dun't look like a Bobbie to me." A few of the other men chuckled. Roberts moved around to let his gaze travel up and down Faith and he smiled a truly predatory smile. "Cap'n said our contact on't mainland's got good taste. You not one fer sharin', Bobbie-boy?"

"I don't like him, Bobbie." Faith whispered, just loud enough that he heard her and they would, should they be paying attention. She was figuring that at least her speaking his 'name' might help. She kept her voice quiet, her tone meek. It was the last thing she felt and if one of them so much as looked at Padraig like they were going to attack, Faith would be acting very differently very quickly.

"I dun't buy it. You're not Bobbie. I say we kill 'im and take her."

Jim, the one who'd spoken previously, piped up. "But what if he is Bobbie, Roberts? We don't know fer sure. Next time we need to get a description." They were really not sure what to do and it was obvious. Marvelous, Faith thought, they had been ambushed by seven stupid pirates.

"He ain't Bobbie, I'm tellin ya!" Roberts more or less yelled at the group behind him. "But just in case, I tell you what we're gonna do. We're gonna invite this fella an' his wench back to th' ship. We're gonna do that at sword an' crossbow point mind you." That last bit was aimed at Padraig. However, for all that the might not be the smartest, Roberts knew what he was doing. "Jim, stay well out of 'is way an keep that crossbow pointed at 'er."

"Err, I've got a sword, Roberts. D'ya mean Tomas?"

"U'freks nuts, yeah." Roberts ground out, "Tomas then. You point it at 'er an' first sign of anything like trouble from Bobbie 'ere, an you shoot her." Faith tensed behind Padraig but she was calm enough. Her worry was focused on him.

"'ang on, Boss. I fought we fought he isn't Bobbie?" Tomas spoke and Faith bit back a sigh. This wasn't in any way funny, but somehow, this lot were beyond hope.

"Well, we don't, Tomas. We're jus' callin' him that," Roberts explained with the patience of a saint, "cos we don't know 'is name. So, jus' point yer crossbow at 'er, aye?"

Tomas complied, aiming the crossbow at Faith. If anything happened, she would dive out of the way first, worry about everything else later. However, Roberts turned to Padraig and gave him a level gaze. "So, undo yer weapons, and then we're gonna take you to meet our Captain." It was a risk, Faith thought, playing along at this point if he chose to. But then, they might just find out what was going on here and who was arranging to meet pirates on the beach and why.

If, however, Padraig wanted to fight them, then fight them she would.

[Padraig]

Of course it was happening again. That's what happened. Who they were. What they did. "Dammit," Padraig hissed under his breath, at the same time he'd made sure he was between Faith and them. Just once, couldn't they have a completely ordinary, predictable outing like other people? It appeared not.

Should he tell her later, should they survive this, that he'd adopted the guise of this Bobbie without having a plan in place in case things turned inside out, or before he'd thought it through? Padraig guessed that depended on whether or not they got the chance to actually have that conversation. Now though there was no other option but to throw himself completely into the role. Bobbie. It was a ridiculous name for a fully grown man.

His first and last concern was her, and the mark around his forearm glowed gold, though it was covered by his shirtsleeve. For the first time, he experienced what a genuine blessing the Immortal's gift was. He could sense the calm coming off of Faith, and while he couldn't read her thoughts exactly, he understood that they were of one mind so long as they could keep up the guise...and rely on the apparent, utter stupidity of the men clustered around them.

"I said I was, didn't I?" he shot back when one of the men questioned him, and narrowed his eyes in a challenging way. "What of it?" What was a Bobbie supposed to look like, after all? It occurred to him that this Burns fellow might know, and Padraig really hoped he didn't. What he didn't care for, and what made it more difficult to maintain his composure was the way they looked at Faith. "I told you she's mine. Eyes and hands off," he warned, and dropped a hand to his sword to make the point.

It worked on that one at least. The man who'd been leering at her raised his hands and backed off. "Alright, alright, don't be getting twitchy. I was only looking." When one suggested they just kill him and take her, in spite of what was going on inside his head, Padraig wrapped his fingers round the grip of his sword, making sure they saw him doing it. "You could certainly try. But what will he say and do," he suggested, referring to the one who'd sent them, "in the unlikely even you succeed and return without me?"

And then the debate raged on, between those without the means and possibly only one with any. It would have been laughable under any under circumstances. He'd wonder how some of them had evolved to the point of walking upright. But apparently they were going to the ship and Padraig wasn't quite ready to draw his weapon and take their chances. He might just reconsider halfway there, once he caught sight of where they were going. Until then?

"No," he said bluntly when told to undo his weapon, even with a myriad of others pointed at them. "We'll come with you, it's why we're here after all. There's seven of you and you've got crossbows, so you can keep your distance and reassure yourselves we're no threat." And again the suggestion that their captain might not be very happy after sending them, to see them returning without Bobbie, or having stupidly killed him. If Bobbie was worth all the trouble of sending them, then chances were the captain would want him alive and in one piece.

[Faith Augustin]

In those moments, Faith truly doubted whether marrying Padraig was such a good idea. Not because she was in any way changing her mind about how she felt or her certainty that this, right here and with him was the only place she'd ever be. No. But Faith considered for a genuine, if somewhat wild, moment that the guests for what was supposed to be the most romantic trial of their life might not all make it out alive.

There was no time for that concern right now, though, although she would revisit it later. Later, she might just suggest that they should elope. Should he tell her then that he had absolutely no plan, she would be unsurprised and as he spoke, swearing that he was Bobbie, Faith was more or less sure that he was, to coin a phrase, winging it.

The blessing from Qylios truly was that, and as Faith knew his thoughts and feelings, so he knew hers. Ironically, they were of a similar mindset, of course. Except protecting him was first and last for her. So, when he bluffed his way out of the immediate danger, she understood in a way that she never had before ~ and they had always been of a similar mind.

As the most incompetent pirates she had ever met engaged in a show down with Padraig, Faith watched. They needed to believe that Padraig was dangerous, there was no doubting it; the reality was that he was right now. His need to protect her was overwhelming and she wished that she could tell him he didn't need to be that way but she couldn't because it was fundamentally who he was. Faith had always known that, but the bond they shared in this moment, glowing on their arms as it did meant that she understood it much better than she ever had. All she could do was thank Vri for this man and the overwhelming love they felt.

Though why it had to always be so damn weird around them, she really didn't know.

Padraig's warning to the men, though, seemed to work and Faith briefly considered trying to construct some story about the last time someone had looked at her too much and how 'Bobbie' had ripped their face off or something, but she knew that there was no way she'd pull it off so she kept quiet and watched. However, when they said they should kill him, Faith tensed and came within an inch of saying something, but she bit her tongue. Let them underestimate her, that would work in their favour if it came to a fight.

There was a trill there where it seemed like it was going to, when Padraig insisted that they would most certainly not be dropping their weapons. However, the tension passed and Roberts nodded.

"Maybe you are Bobbie after all. Burns said that he's a stubborn one, but more dangerous than you'd think. Fair deal. I'll take you to him then."

So, with Roberts walking with them, and leaving the others behind, they got led up the beach. Why only Roberts went with them, Faith had no idea, but that was fine. There was a small boat tethered up in a natural inlet and it was that, obviously, that they were heading towards. Or so Faith thought at first. Yet, the truth was that there was no way that they would all fit in it. So, they kept them moving and past that. Faith touched her hand to Padraig's, not restricting his movement, but equally making sure that he was aware that she was there.

Passing the boat, she wondered how they had all fitted in it, to be honest. Yet, it was the sight that greeted them further down the beach which astonished Faith. Genuinely, astonished her. There, on the warm orange sand of Faldrass, was a table and two chairs. Sitting at the table was a man, presumably Burns. He sat and watched them approaching and, as they got closer they could see that the man sitting at the table in a secluded beach area was probably in his late thirties.

"You Bobbie?" He looked at Padraig and his eyes narrowed, for a moment. Faith, he paid no mind to at all. He didn't recognise Padraig, but equally he didn't seem to expect that he would. After a few moments, he gestured to the chair, fully expecting Padraig to sit.

"Alright, Bobbie boy. We're doing the raids, like your people asked. It's working like you said, too. So, when am I gonna be steppin' in to my office, then?" His eyes then flickered to Faith and he narrowed them as he scrutinized her, but not like the other men had. No, this was a very different kind of scrutiny. "She the one?"

He waved a hand and said to Roberts, before Padraig answered. "You got mud fer a brain. Get the lady a cool drink an' bring another chair." Padraig was undoubtedly winging it, Faith thought, and so she kept quiet and let him do so. Yet, when Burns had asked if she was the 'one', there had been a tinge of fear in his eyes. There was no doubting it. What on Idalos was going on, Faith wondered.

[Padraig]

The more he thought about it, the more Padraig came to suspect that he could more reasonably have told them that Faith was Bobbie. It sounded more like what one would call a young boy or a grown woman, than a fully grown man. Then again, they'd asked him, making the gender of the name's owner a logical assumption. And without knowing their intentions, he'd never have put her in jeopardy that way.

But would he ever tell her, should they survive this, that he'd acted off the cuff without thinking it through first. Probably not, and there hadn't been sufficient time to anyway. But if she asked him directly, Padraig could never lie to her. He could act out a lie however for the purposes of their mutual survival, and had embraced his role as best they could. Better they feared him, than not. And better they view her to be not a threat at all, no matter how mistaken they were.

Don't overplay it, his glance her way seemed to say without him so much as speaking aloud. Bobbie's a stubborn one, the man said. He. Apparently the right decision then. The boat they passed was small. Too small for them all, or even a handful of the men surrounding them. Curious, he thought, but said nothing of it.

Then they came upon the subject of so much previous conversation, the mysterious Burn's. And Padraig silently thanked any Immortals that were listening, that the man hadn't expected to recognize him at all. From what he said though, maybe he and this Bobbie had previously communicated through letters, or even a lackey. A third party. Either way, apparently he had some pull of his own, based on what Burns said.

So. It appeared that he, Bobbie, had some political power and might like to increase or at least solidify it by working in league with pirates in order to keep his hands clean of raids upon others. Clever, it seemed, that was him. And it further appeared that he'd promised this man that it would earn him some political clout of his own. "I am," he said. Bobbie, that was.

"And I appreciate, very much, all that you've done to now," Padraig said, taking a chair. "Soon, very soon," he added, now fully into the role and still not having the foggiest about where this might go. "I am a man of my word and my connections are valuable ones. But I'm sure you're aware of the need for anonymity in most cases." He wouldn't, therefore, supply their names. Hoping he hadn't gone too far, he was nonetheless surprised when the man's eyes turned on Faith and flashed with fear.

She the one? The one what, Padraig wondered though he was careful to show none of his confusion and adopt a different expression altogether. For Faith's sake, and he hoped she was up to the task. They'd gone too far to turn back. And apparently, she was an individual that you didn't want to cross. "She is," he said with a sly smile and stood to hold the back of the chair as Faith sat down.

[Faith Augustin]

The glance that Padraig gave her spoke volumes and Faith managed a sheepish glance in his direction but nothing more. She did have something of a tendency towards over-hamming it, she knew and her gaze lowered as she remembered the 'pin you to the wall by your entrails' moment. Not her finest hour, all things considered and it wouldn't be helpful now. Yet, thanks to nearly an arc of knowing each other now, and the bonds they shared thanks to his blessing, Padraig knew her well enough, she was sure. She couldn't hide the amusement she felt at his warning glance.

It was, after all, a fair cop.

So, she walked with him and said nothing, although the small boat was odd, and the man there, Burns, he seemed odd, too. Why would you sit at a table on a beach, she wondered? This was just peculiar on top of strange with a side order of weird and Faith's concern was for Padraig. By playing along as Bobbie, he was putting himself in danger and she really hadn't considered how they were going to get out of it.

Later, she promised herself, she would have to tell Padraig just how proud of him she was. He was winging it in a difficult situation and he was doing it wonderfully. She felt the swell of pride at him but just kept quiet. It seemed that Bobbie, whoever he was, had some kind of position of power and had promised the same to Burns. But then Burns turned to her and looked at her and when he asked that, and Padraig said yes she was her whoever that was, Burns looked at her with fear.

Panic. Pure, unashamed panic was what she felt. However, Faith was an inordinately disciplined young woman and she had felt fear and panic more times than she could count in her life. She wanted to put her hands in the air and tell them both that no, no, no, she couldn't do this. So she sat in the chair that Padraig pulled out for her and she placed her hands, one over the other, on the table in front of her. Burns' eyes widened at the nails and the tattoos, the fear in his face not abating at that. Padraig, however, knew her and knew what she did and why she did.

Faith looked down at her hands and she put all her fear in them. All the panic she felt, and the other things which would stop her doing her duty here right now. All the things she had no time for. She had to do this, in order to protect him to make sure that they got out of this safely. But she knew nothing! She had no idea who she was supposed to be! She knew nothing about him and who he was, other than his friends were idiots and all it would take was one mis step.

She knew nothing about him and who he was... she thought and then, she was calm.

Suddenly, completely calm.

"I don't know you," Faith said to Burns, gazing at him with unblinking silver eyes, "and whilst I do know him," Her head gestured behind her, just nodding slightly in Padraig's direction. "He's a bit too prone to fast and loose and hope for the best. Me? I'm a planner. An organiser." How strange, she thought as she watched Burns. Turned out she just had to speak the truth.

"So before this goes any further, before I decide what part, if any, I am going to play in this harebrained scheme, I'd like to be clear that you are who I think you are." She wasn't actually sure, but she thought he was called Burns and was a bad man. Probably best she didn't mention those two things, or that they were all she knew. "Not some unimportant puppet who is a waste of my time or, worse still, someone that I should not be trusting. So," a single sharp fingernail tapped the table. It was a sudden movement and Faith did it for a reason. Burns didn't jump, but he nearly did. That was good. "You tell me, us, exactly what you know, what you think we are going to provide you and we'll see if you are who you say you are."

She needed to make sure that he did what she wanted, and quickly. If he thought about it too much he might start to over think it, or something equally tricky. So, she utilized a technique that both Jamal and the owners in Athart had used on her many, many times although always in a different context and with a different outcome. "You have one bit. From now," at the word 'now' there was a simultaneous tap of her fingernail against the table and Faith did her best to adopt an air of vaguely interested. Internally, she was terrified but holding it together. Just.

But she knew, almost immediately, that he wasn't falling for it and Faith felt her heart sink a little. "Screw this," Burns said and he shook his head. As he did, Faith knew that there was only one reasonable response. She pushed the table that was between them, as hard as she could. It slid across the warm sand and hit him in the stomach. Burns let out a yell which ended in a wheeze as all the wind was knocked out of him.

As Burns fell to the floor, Roberts took aim and fired his crossbow at Faith, but she had expected it and knew it was coming, so she was already moving, and it flew past her. However, they were far from out of trouble and Faith knew it. As she lifted the chair and started to swing it towards Burns' head, with the aim of knocking him cold, Faith prayed that Padraig took care of Roberts before he either reloaded or drew his bloody big sword.

[Padraig]

Immortals, but those nails were enough to terrify anyone. Truth was they unnerved Padraig just a little, but he was also fully aware of their source, the nature of the woman who wore them, and of who she was. They were having the intended effect on Burns however and Padraig was busy attempting to pull of relaxed and confident, as good as lounging in his chair. He wasn't, in truth. Inwardly, the scholar was wound like a spring. And then, predictably really, it all went south. Padraig should have anticipated it, should have known better when he'd adopted the role of Bobbie and concocted their vague identities on the quick. But it was neither of their faults really. Some fellow somewhere named Murphy was cackling with glee. This was how it always tended to go.

He'd resisted the urge to quirk a brow or glance Faith's way when she described his usual way as fast and loose. He wasn't denying it. But well, instead of objecting he did quite the opposite and smiled, as if there was a little bit of instability in the facade, giving the impression that those very tendencies made him all the more unpredictable, and dangerous. It was too bad that Burns, ultimately, decided he wasn't buying it. Not from either of them. Padraig could sense Faith's tension beside him, felt her emotions and thus, suddenly, her intentions as it all washed over him mixing with his own misgivings, and tingled.

He was already primed to spring when Burns appeared ready to stand up and reach for his weapon, and Faith flipped the table onto him. In the same heartbeat, Padraig leaped up but not quickly enough to prevent Roberts from firing his bow. Faith was quicker though. And him. He could have as easily reached for the ordinary sword at his hip. But instead he shot out a hand, palm up, and with a thought, an impulse, golden sunlight gathered in tendrils and wrapped round his hand, even while his hand wrapped round the weapon he'd summoned. The sight of it was enough to catch Robert's eye and cause him to fumble in the process of nocking an arrow into his bow. And that element of surprise, was exactly why Padraig had opted out of an ordinary weapon.

It caused the man to stumble back, drop his bow and begin reaching for his sword, giving Padraig time to charge past the distance between them. Roberts, under ordinary circumstances was probably a very good swordsman. But the surprise that Padraig had sprung on him caused him to uncharacteristically clumsy. He recovered his wits, but not quickly enough and it was a very brief clashing of blades before Roberts lay still, face down on the sand. Was he dead? Padraig didn't take the time to find out, but instead turned back towards Faith to see how she was doing with Burns.