Avoidance

Kezrin always arrived first. Not that Renzly was particularly ever late, it was just that she liked to arrive early and find a table. They usually met at the same tavern on Bilgerat Street; the notice board provided a convenient way for them to leave a message if they needed to meet. It was filled with multiple advertisements and strange notes from other people using it for the same purpose. Kezrin had learned the tavern had a reputation for turning a blind eye to any strange dealings that happened in its walls.

She wasn’t sure she qualified as the same definition of “strange” as most would assume, but the table piled with small stacks of books was definitely unusual. They were in multiple languages, mostly Thalassian, and bore such titles as Runic Inscriptions and The Theoretical Versus Practical Application of Wards and Barriers.

“Heya, Goldie,” Renzly greeted as she walked up.

“Hey, Ren. How ya doin’?”

“Hey, not bad. Ya don’t sound so much like a prissy girl.”

“I’m tryin’.”

“Found some stuff this time?”

“Yeah.” Kezrin waved to the closest pile. “Some stuff that seemed like it might be what ya wanted- but like I told ya, I’m not a mage. Myzzi was better at pickin’ up this stuff than I was.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.” Renzly picked up the top book and flipped it open to a page diagramming a simple spell circle. She frowned and tossed it back on the pile. “Just lookin’ at the page gives me a headache. But I got somethin’ that might help ya.”

She slid into a chair and unfolded several pieces of paper. They were covered in a small, neat script with several diagrams along the side, much more complicated than the plain circle from the book.


“What’s all this?” Kezrin reached out to pull the papers closer to her, Renzly reluctantly let them go. “Some sort of spell notes? I think this is in goblin…”

“Yeah, something like that,” Renzly nodded. “But look at the stuff at the bottom? That’s what we’re looking for. Books with those symbols.”

Kezrin grabbed Runic Inscriptions and flipped through several pages. “That’s it… or something similar, anyway. Don’t expect me to translate all that, though. I can read Thalassian, but the rest is gobbledigook ta me, too.”

“Just need the Thalassian, as best ya can. She’ll figure it out from there.”

“She?”

“None of ya business. What’s that there?” Renzly pointed to an envelope sticking out of one of the books.

“Oh!” Kezrin beamed. “It’s a letter from my sister.”

“Your sister?” Renzly openly gawked. “She knows where you are? You’re communicating with her? Are you nuts?”

“She’s my sister,” Kezrin frowned. “Everyone thinks I’m dead, why should I worry about writing to her?”

“Because yer dead. That was the point of the plan, ta get people ta stop lookin’ for ya. What if someone finds out ‘bout the letters? Or tracks them here?”

“We’re being careful,” she replied indignantly. “I ain’t telling her anything that could lead her here. And she’s not even sending them directly to me, I got someone else- she’s not interested in why I’m sending them-”

“Then what is she interested in? What’s in it for her?” Renzly shook her head. “Everyone has their price. All’s it’s gonna take is for somethin’ ta come along ta make it more profitable for her ta turn on ya. And the Horde’s worse. At least with a goblin ya got some idea. But with the Horde? They ain’t like us, Goldie. They only tolerate Bilgewater ‘cause they find goblin stuff useful, but their priorities are weird. They fight to the death over ‘honor.’ All ya got ta do is say the wrong things ‘bout their family. How d’ya know ya ain’t gonna somehow offend them?”

“She’s nice.”

“Nice!”

“And you’re just being paranoid. I’m your friend, and ya won’t even tell me where ya are most of the time. Or anything about yourself. Got any family? Other friends?”

“We’re not friends,” Renzly snapped. “And trust me, ya don’t want ta know.”

“Well, maybe I do! Ren, you’re the only person I can talk to about anything. Don’t you want someone you can talk to as well? ‘Sides,” Kezrin said slowly, “ya know you can trust me. Ya know ‘nuff ‘bout me that I won’t ever dare spill a word about ya.”

“There’s not much ta tell. Ain’t got siblings, Pop’s a right bastard, and Ma’s not really talkin’ ta me. So there.” Renzly crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable at having admitted even that much.

“More than I knew before. And it’s not like I’m that fond of my parents at the moment, either.”

“Yeah, I guess yer right ‘bout that.” Renzly sighed. “But, my pop’s worse than yours. Believe it. So I’d rather not talk ‘bout it, ‘kay?”

“Got it. So, uh… nice weather lately, huh?” Kezrin smiled innocently. “Didja hear about the latest footbomb game?”

The rogue huffed back at her.