Tarhun Kimbatuul

     Tark awoke with a throbbing jaw and the familiar tase of blood ins his mouth. His aching body protested the fixed position his body had been secured in. If I eva git outa dis bloody chair... he thought. He opened his eyes to survey the brig he'd been locked in and finished that thought, I kill'em, all... 'specially that cunt, Calhoun. He was alone, except that half-elf girl that they always kept around during their "Inquisitions". She seldom spoke, except for the occasional sound she made when Tark cursed his captors in Draconic. Apparently she understood the dialect, Hmm, educated, Tark thought. Something curious occurred to him as he gathered his wits; she was with him, in the cell, alone. This was a first.

    Thinking back on the past few... days? Gods, could he even remember how long they had kept him here? Must be a week or more since this cursed pirate ship attacked the Rocinante, a sturdy merchant vessel his crew had been hired to protect. A task that he was essentially successful in, but at the cost of his own capture and the death of two of his men initially, then another that had also been captured then brutally executed right in front of Tark... by Calhoun, the pirate ship's first mate. At least the Rocinante was able to escape. It apparently had some very valuable cargo that these pirate scum were keen to acquire, or perhaps desperate enough to engage in torture to wring information from a captive. He did know of a high-value passenger, Calhoun had not specifically asked about, but did pry about who was aboard and bits about the manifest, where the Rocinante would next make port, and so on. He gave up nothing.. except that the Rocinante was captained by a guy named Dick Priratebender and that he was hired by a gal named Shoodeeta Bagococks U. Seescum. This earned him some new burn scars.

    Now he's alone with the little bird he once heard them call Marlyn, a comely enough she-elf, but not the most appeasing to Tark's dragonborn eyes. He lifted his head and cocked it towards her slightly making eye contact. She shifted nervously and raised a single finger to her lips. After a pause he nodded, what's she up to? he wondered. She nodded back and withdrew an iron key from the folds of her cloak. Ahh, maybe I spare her if dis ain't some troll-shit trickery.

    "I don't belong here on this ship." She whispered as she approached. She knelt and began unlocking several restraints, "I have not been permitted to leave. They know I can use magic and think I would be good to keep around, they do not know the extent of my abilities, good thing too." She removed the last lock, pocket the key, and outstretched her hand to Tark, "I'm Merlyn".

    "I'm Galahad." he responded as he accepted her hand.

    "You're Tarhun Kimbatuul, that much I do know." Tark's face betrayed his feeling of suspicion, "I lifted the ledger from the Rocinante with magic." She explained

    "Hi, Mae'rlyn. What happened to the guards? How do you plan on getting past the rest of the crew?" 

    "Most were already sleeping, it's a bit past midnight. The rest I put to sleep with a spell." she explained flatly. "Like I said, it's good that they don't know the extent of my gifts. The spell puts them to sleep, it doesn't keep them that way and it won't last forever, so we should get a move on."

    "Me things, love. I need 'em." Tark insisted.

    "I can't get to those, but I did manage to grab some gear for you." She then offered a hand axe to him. Still as stone Tark didn't budge. "Your things are in Calhoun's cabin... with Calhoun!" she explained.

    "Well then me jail-breakin' lass, we are definitely getting me things." saying as he took the axe.

    Quietly they crept up to the deck then to Calhoun's cabin door. "Now what?" she asked.

    Tark straightened and turned his shoulder to the door. "Wait!" she exclaimed, "Someone will hear." Tark relaxed but stared at her. She returned the stare with an expression that seemed to say really, just bash it in and wake everyone? "Stand back." she said after a brief moment. He barely moved but permitted her access to the door.

    Merlyn stepped two paces backwards, closed her eyes briefly as she traced the air in front of her with both hands in some sort of pattern before intoning, "Ye'etow" as she opened her eyes once again and a ray of bluish energy shot past Tark and struck the door's locking mechanism. He felt the cold from the charm but it did him no harm. She then wrapped the lock with a bit of cloth and smacked it with the wooden hilt of her own handaxe. The door opened slightly with very little sound. Nice. Tark thought. bitch is handy.

    They entered, faint light broke through a single window that afforded the dimly lit room's occupants a view of the main deck. Tark spotted Calhoun sleeping on a cot within ten feet of the open door. He drew a deep breath as he took three paces to bring himself beside a sleeping Calhoun. The floor creaked as he brought all his weight to the floor next to the ship's first mate. Tark pause for a moment, Calhoun began to open is eyes which widened as he looked up and saw Tarkun Kimbatuul's massive form looming over him. Tark smiled and let all his air out, forcing it even with great vengeful fury before Calhoun could draw enough breath to scream.

    A cone of freezing air shot down upon Calhoun from Tark's open mouth, ice forming on his teeth as he exhaled the deadly breath. Calhoun's head and chest took the brunt of the assault freezing that portion of his body solid. Tark then reached down with both hands, wrapping his giant digits around his victim's head, then in a jerking motion he twisted the head violently, freeing it from it's frosty neck and torso. "No propa burial for you me cruel captor!" Tark held the head in front of him for a moment, his eyes locking onto the frozen lifeless orbs of Calhoun, then with out removing his gaze asked, "When yer ship attacked, one o' the weapons yer crew used to weaken us and our armor were acid vials that broke open when thrown, where be the lot of that juice, love?"

    Merlyn looked around the room and then pointed to a small barrel made from an odd black shiny wood that Tark did not recognize. Tark calmly walked over and deposited Calhoun's head into the barrel of acid. "And no resurrections fer ya eitha."

***

   Merlyn peered through the spyglass that she lifted from Calhoun's quarters after the grizzly events of his demise, she suppressed a shudder at the memory. This Tarhun was no one to fuck with. Still he seemed a figure of principal, loyalty, perhaps even dignity... just no stranger to violence. She glanced briefly from her spyglass back to him as he diligently rowed with a rhythm that seemed mostly muscle memory as one would expect from someone that was no stranger to the seas. A good but possibly dangerous ally she thought as she returned her focus to the misty night air before them. Faintly, she detected the glow of the anticipated shoreline settlement. Again from her spyglass her gaze drifted slowly backwards to Tarhun and gave him a nod.

"Good eyes" he complimented. "Yes, I think I see it now too." A wrinkle formed between her eyes as she met his stare. Fucking Dragonborn are so hard to read. He raise his left brow as she then understood, he was full of it. He didn't see shit. A long jagged grin appeared on his draconic face. They both managed a chuckle. before returning their attention to the waters before them.

Silence crept back into the dingy as Tarhun rowed without rhythmic variation. After a time he broke it by suggesting they get their stories straight. "Even at dis hour, the docks are likely monitored." he said.

"Suggestions?" she replied.

"Aye. The truth. As little of it as is required, though." he instructed.

"Okay Sergeant, how much? Truth?" The use of title was not lost on him.

"I don't mean to boss, it's just that unsavory ports such as this are nefarious information hubs. I say we stick to some version of the truth, so the story is, one, easy for us to each maintain, and two, it's simple and believable. We say that we escaped the pirates that attacked the Rocinante. I have the wounds to support that story."

"Fine, but I do not." She retorted.

"True, but we can explain that one easily. You were to be for ransom, and unharmed. Me they wanted to break for merchant information... as they did. But only if they ask." he re-iterated. 

They went on like this for a bit longer, sorting out the other potential 'if's' and 'why's' until the mist began to clear more and their naked eyes could make out the shoreline in the pre-dawn hours. Quiet returned to the dingy.

As Tarhun rowed dawn began it's release on the darkness of night and the shore line was easier to make out. Merlyn's half-elf eyes began to pick up details of their destination. Her eyes widened and she raise a hand towards Tarhun, who instinctively stopped rowing. "Looks like it's been raided, Tark." she informed. 

He looked past her and studied the shoreline, "Can ye swim, love?" he inquired.

"Yes, but a short distance, not this far." she answered.

"Hmm." After a moment he added. "The water is calm, the presence of our boat will break the smoothness of the surface. We will be visible. If we make way a bit to the south or north then we skirt the port and land on a beach somewhere out of view."

She nodded, and he resumed rowing as he altering their course...

***