Through The Barge

[Orion]

42nd of Ash, Year 120

"I done saw one-them 'Knight' folks down by the creek, Mr. White. Had a big sa-word in his hand, an' lossa' Hollower folks. Why d'ya think they been comin' around so much? They aren' usually gettin' so... so close," said Roy. The young Ranger's eyes blinked, then narrowed slightly as he tipped his hat forward, uncertain.

"I don' know myself, Roy. Why don' you ask Misses Luger? She lived in Lorien for a while, yeah? Go on -- go ask," he replied, shooing the other man off. Orion continued to put on his laced boots, slipping them up and around the low, braided fabric of his pants. Tying them right until they were secure, the Koltoskan man occasionally eyed his fellow townsfolk as they gathered in whispers and speculation. Eventually, his mother came forward, moving pace-by-pace with her wooden crutches. His little brother by her side, keeping her in tow -- he smiled softly at the sight.

"Y'all people best come together and hear some words," she said. "I ain' gonna say them more'un once. Lissen: my son, Orion, he's gonna go out and try to find us more guns. We have them munitions, we jus' need the framework. We here done found a lead to a manufacturer in Nivenhain, in one-o-the inner rings of the city. Y'all know what we say bout them Nivenhainers?"

"Pussies!" a man spat.

"Yes!" roared back Caroline, his mother. "They don' know how-ta keep their shit safe, folks. Once Orion gets this here intel, we aughta send a small strike crew out there to get them there guns, whatcha say?"

"Let's fuckin' do it, Caroline," yelled out another. The young Ranger continued to observe, gripping his flintlock pistol and holstering it at his side. He rolled his eyes profusely as his mother attempted to excite the gathered crowd; seemingly for no reason. She had a pension for doing so -- always had.

The young Ranger, that very night, moved through the forest towards Lorien's border as silently as he could. It was always easy to tell when one entered the Kingdom: rather than any land border, the sudden veil of frost was enough to know. He always wondered why it was that Lorien's very existence caused snow to fall and cold to creep, and he'd been given a few answers... all seemingly so absurd. Something about the magic of some God-turned-bird, a creature of frost and unimagined fury. The strength enough to submerge a land within his grasp.

He also often wondered why the Rien didn't go south to expand, to escape all that snow -- apparently, they weren't allowed.

When nightfall truly came, he rested within the confines of a warm bedroll, beneath the canopy of a tree. It was always hard to sleep at first, given the cold, particularly now that it was Ash and the small vestiges of Searing's warmth had begun to fade. Often he came with other rangers, but -- he was alone this time. It was his first solo mission, ever, and where normally they'd all huddle their bedrolls together to share their heat, this time it was just him wrapped in rolls of fabric. It had to be enough.

Morning came. The sleep he had wasn't incredible, but it sufficed. Shortly after morning was his embarking towards Lower Nivenhain, the dilapidated slum he'd passed through more than once before. By now, Orion knew his way around it -- where to avoid, mostly. Consequently, that was... almost everywhere.

He B-lined straight towards Outer Nivenhain, knowing the factory to be somewhere in there. The point was a stakeout: his people often stole things unexpectedly, and rarely were they actually followed. Perhaps due to the rarity of Koltoskan settlements on Lorien's borders, the business owners likely believed the thieves were the people from the district below. Hollows often searched through Lower Nivenhain, after all -- clearly looking for something. Stolen goods that couldn't be found.

The young Koltoskan looked almost like a paper-boy. He wore a fiddler's cap, brown in color with simple brown clothes; a woven brown jacket, a white linen shirt and thick brown pants, with black boots. The gun holstered at his side appeared to be hidden by his jacket, which ran slightly below his waist. His fingers were covered with dirt, inside the nail at least. His complexion appeared somewhat poor as well -- though not nearly as tarnished as many of the Nameless around.

Upon arriving at the archway he would normally use to enter Outer Nivenhain from below, the Ranger paused to witness the large wall that had been built. He'd only been here a month ago, and yet as far as his eye could see in both directions... there was a massive, stone barricade far too tall to jump over or climb. He scowled.

"Since when was this a thing...." he muttered to himself. To his left, there was a checkpoint: Chevaliers stood diligently, awaiting people to approach. He knew it would be madness to even try to get in. "Sorry ma'... we may not be gettin' our guns."

[Arkash]

"But it's mine," Arkash spoke in fury. The dull caws of his one boney hand curled into a fist as he paced to and fro.
"It's not worth it, Ark," returned the false argent. "It's just a lockpick, some baubles, and maybe some farthings if you're lucky."
Arkash shook his head, he didn't even turn his gaze in the avialae's direction while he paced. "It's not about what's in the bag, it's about the principle." Arkash exhaled through his nose, then shut his eye tight as a powerful spasm saw his left shoulder raise in a brief shrug. Once the contraction passed, and he was sure no more were to follow, he bared his teeth as he continued his thought. "I gave it to Cojack. It was his, that asshole's sitting on it like that doesn't mean shit! He even said so!!" Arkash lifted his index and middle claws to annotate the air. "If it's good enough for the nameless, it's good enough for me." Of course, the young rath adjusted his tone to a shrill pitch that was intended to mock the entitled human, which he knew was childish, but he stood resolute in his decision. He was serious.
Asmodei simply looked to the lizard with something of an amused grin, then shook his head. "Well, that's what they're like, Ark. All the higher castes just can't help themselves when it comes to walking over the less-fortunate. It's disgusting, honestly." Asmodei curled his features into something of a grimace toward the end of his sentence, betraying his disgust.
"...So, you'll help me?"
"No."
"Why?!" Arkash bared his teeth as he hissed. He'd only stopped his pacing when the avialae expressed his distaste for the wealthy, the rest of the conversation saw him walk back and forth along the cracked wooden floor of the abandoned facility.
The avialae chuckled a breath, as though the exchange amused him. "I already told you why; it's not worth the risk." Arkash groaned a sigh and lifted his tense claws to his head. It hurt in his head and in his lungs whenever he thought about the bag and the situation attached to it. "But," added Asmodei, who recognized the rathari's frustration. "If you want to go alone, I won't stop you."
Arkash stared at the giant with burning rage in his one wide eye. "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIFT THE GRATE MYSELF?!" It was hard to not let the burn in his throat show in his voice. "I HAVE ONE ARM!" For emphasis, he lifted the stump so that Asmodei could see.
The wall was complete by then too, there was no way around it, only under through the sewers. The problem was that Arkash needed Asmodei, the taller, stronger avialae to lift and move the heavy iron sewer grates, he couldn't do it himself. Asmodei's smile had receded toward the end of their argument, and a serious look took his eyes. "I'm sure you'll find a way if you're that serious about a bag," was all he spoke before he stood. "I won't tell Fayeth where you've gone, either, just make sure you bring your blade." With that, Asmodei turned and walked into the darkness that surrounded the burning barrel beside his bed.
Arkash stared at him for a moment longer; he spoke as though he believed that Arkash could truly manage on his own. It took him by surprise... Didn't he need Asmodei? Perhaps there was another way through the gates that he hadn't seen before? Uncertain, Arkash looked to the contained fire and settled his eye on the various belongings that waited upon a table. He furrowed his one working brow, then shook his head. Once he'd fought the muscle spasms enough to fully dress in his oversized garments and clothes, he was out the door and into the cold dark of the moon-lit rien streets.

The clothes he wore reflected Lower Nivenhain well, stained, patchy burlap that was several sizes too large for him. The attached hood completely covered his features, and though it made it hard to see, the extra concealment was worth it. He couldn't be seen by any Chevalier; all those that dealt with the Lower district knew to keep an eye out for him, he believed.
So, as he approached the wall, he clung to the darkness outside the glow of the torches that illuminated the Chevalier's watch, and dipped into the most convenient alley he could. From the darkened corner of the building he hid behind, he lifted his hood a little and scanned the wall.
Chevalier and hollows alike patrolled the wall both on the rampart atop and the foot of the structure below, the Chevalier at the check-in station swapped every thirty minutes or so to keep those stationed aware. It made sense, the wall had only recently been erect, and the nameless were quickly learning that they were no longer welcome in Outer Nivenhain. Security had to be tight. As it stood, he saw no way he could squeeze through the watchful eye of the argent.
Frustration and anger saw him withdraw into the shadow of the alley, where he breathed quickly through his nose, and pressed his one palm to the slope of his head. He had to get through somehow. He had to think, but he couldn't. He was too angry, too frustrated. Arkash bared his teeth and shut his yellow eye while the dead grey one stared on.
Then, the sound of footfalls to his blind side caught his attention. A flare of fear pushed him deeper into the shadows before he took a knee, then turned his head to put the source of the sound on his sighted side. It was a human boy, certainly no argent or hollow like he'd expected. Though he didn't look like he belonged in Lower Nivenhain, he hesitated while he stared at the wall. A sharp draw of air through Arkash's nose confirmed; he wasn't from Nivenhain. He smelled like the woods, almost, a more earthy smell than the grime and mold of the city's slums. A foreigner, he thought. Someone who wouldn't recognize him, someone who would maybe... lend him a hand?
So, Arkash crawled forward on his one claw, then rose to crouch at the exit of the alley before he straightened up to approach the human. The boy was taller than he, but it didn't matter. "Pss, 'ey!" he spoke with a harsh whisper to try and steal the boy's attention. "You wan' in, yeah?" He offered in common.

[Orion]

Pss, ey! a man called out to him. Orion's eyes immediately shot back to the man and he narrowed his gaze, quickly, standing straight on his feet as he turned - as if ready to get jumped. The sound he made was harsh and his voice sounded almost... well, he couldn't even quite describe it. It wasn't like most people he'd met.

Upon turning, Orion realized he couldn't even distinguish the other man very well. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to investigate him despite the darkness and the hood. He shortly after remembered his mother's warnings about the people out in the world: shady characters, sick bastards. People in desperation calling out to the other desperate, but only to take advantage. Those alerts were going off in his head, and he pressed his lips together, gripping the handle of his gun from beneath his jacket. Arkash wouldn't even notice, in all likelihood.

The man was definitely a Rien. He recognized the accent, even if the voice imbued into it was off. He sounded like many of the denizens here, strangely distinct from their exalted neighbors, only a district above.

"I do, Mister. But I ain' lookin' to get tied up in any nonsense, alright? Tell me why you wan' in an' whatever no-good crap you wan' me to do. I'll give i' a mighty consideration," he offered, still staring down towards the other man.

His clothes were filthy and unimpressive. It didn't take a dog to smell him, either -- his stench exuded outward; he smelled much like the muck of his place. Strangely, his hood seemed to extend far. If there were proper street lights in Lower Nivenhain, Orion was certain he would have been able to see him beneath his cloth ruse. But there was something not quite right about him; the way he stood, the distribution of his shape, the visage that crept through the fabric...

"An' show me yourself," he demanded. "I ain' abou' ta make dealins' with a man I can' even see, Mister."

[Arkash]

For a foreigner, the boy was... strangely forward. It wasn't often he encountered foreigners, sure, but they were usually pliant and willing to sample rien life, especially if it was something that could potentially help them. But this one was different, he held a certain level of street smarts that mostly the natives only knew. How could that be?
Arkash's confusion showed on his mangled face, but it wasn't as if the boy could see him. The sweet smile he wore unfurled while he considered the foreigner's demands. Why did he want into the walls? It was a long story, did the boy need the full truth? What was more, he asked to see Arkash. "Trus' me, you's no' missin' much." A turn of his head placed the lit gate on his sighted side, then another turn put his eye on the horizon, or what he could see of it between the decrepit, broken homes. The distant sky was a lighter shade of night, the sun would rise soon.
Though he wasn't sure why, Arkash felt inclined to go along with the boy's demands. Maybe it was his foreign accent? They were often far better educated than the nameless and had some degree of smarts to them. Besides, what was the harm in showing his face? Aside from scaring him off, of course. The posted Chevalier weren't soon to leave their station, but being so close to them was uncomfortable, so, Arkash took a precautionary step or two further away from the wall before he turned to the boy, then lowered his hood with his one arm.
He was a rathari of dark grey scales with a sloped forehead and defined lips. He at first kept his sighted side tidally locked on the human before he turned his head a touch to show the horrific scar that mangled his features. His left eye was a dead grey and hung motionless as it stared through him. A large, broad scar ran the length of his head over that eye, and the stitchwork associated squeezed his scales together in such a way that his lip was forced to raise in a perpetual snarl; his gums and teeth were visible through the hole.
Bared to the human, Arkash lowered his head a little. "Sum'un staul from me, a savan'. I wan' my shi' back." It was technically the truth, even if the nameless didn't have rights to property, he still perceived the bag to be his. Of course, he didn't see what that had to do with a stranger.
"An' you dun 'ave'to worry abou' nonsense. I jus' can' ge' through alone. I ju' need 'ew to 'elp me lift th' sewer grate down th' road from 'ere, i'ss like a me'z down 'err, bu' I know th' way." With that, Arkash lifted his hood again and cast a glance to the Chevalier on guard. "Wha' 'bout 'ew? Why do 'ew want in?"

[Orion]

To say that Arkash's visage surprised him was... an understatement. As the man revealed himself, Orion's head pulled back and his eyes widened. Confusion covered the breadth of his complexion; his lips were tightly locked together, his brows risen. Had he not already been so wary of his surroundings, the Koltoskan certainly would have yelled out in shock. Instead -- he only stared, eyes darting back and forth between the scales, one eye, the wounded eye -- and the wounds all across his face. His mangled maw... it was all very horrific, and in some way sad. He wondered how the man had gotten that way. Not just wounded, but... a lizard at all. It must have been some magical curse, he thought.

"Di' some mager cast a spell on you?" he bluntly asked. "How di' you get like that? All... scaley an' such." He didn't comment on the scars, the wounds -- his mother had taught him that to do so was crude. He always grimaced when others inquired about her lost leg, the crutches she bore with her... it wasn't something that needed to be known, at least not by strangers. The young man tried not to question further, even if his curiosity was flaring. He'd never seen such a thing... like one of the creatures he'd seen out in the desert-valley of Larissa, but shaped into a man. How could it be?

Finally, Arkash explained what he himself wanted. A 'Savan' had stolen from him, and he 'wanted his shit back'. Orion didn't know what a Savant was, but he could relate to the overall feeling. He pulled his hands out from underneath his jacket, letting go of his gun which stayed planted in its holster. All Arkash was asking for was help with the grate -- he needed another to lift it, for he couldn't do it on his own. He looked to his build, then his arms -- and he noticed that one of them... one of them didn't look right. He couldn't tell conclusively, but -- with his mother missing a leg, he could wager when someone was hiding an amputated limb. Either it was brought into his chest, or it was a stub. The Koltoskan understood why he couldn't lift the grate on his own, then, and he felt a little less threatened. And a little more sorry for the other man.

"I... well, my ma' and my town wan'ed me ta go ta Ou'der Nivenhain ta get some guns. We got some intel tha' uh... well... I probably shouldn' be tellin ya's abou' i'. Bu' I need through them walls, Mister, and so da' yew. I'm not so sure 'bout this savan' business though... you already been messed up pretty bad, you sure ya wanna be figh'in' people fer yer shi'? Maybe 'is abou' time ta give up on tha', Mister Lizard."

He frowned, realizing he shouldn't be trying to convince him -- he needed a guide through the sewers, after all. Besides . . . a sewer route was even better, after thinking about it. A number of Rangers could be guided through there, and they could use the sewers for their escape, too. The whole plan would be far more incognito. Orion grinned boyishly as he almost stared off into space, thinking of the accolades his town would give him if he led a mission where they pulled this off.

"Of course, uh... if ya's want yer vengeance, I get it. Either way... I need yer help."

[Arkash]

It was expected. Arkash was more than ready to see a look of horror in the boy's eyes when he unveiled his face, and to no surprise, that was what he got. The human physically reeled when he saw Arkash's visage, and though it was a reaction the rathari had built himself up to prepare for, it wasn't a reaction he was used to. People often double took when they saw him prior to his incident, but that was because of his species. Now though, he was utterly alien and disfigured. It was perhaps hard to tell, but Arkash frowned a little, then took a mental note to start prefacing his face reveals with 'don't be scared'.
"A me'ge?" He asked. Did a mage hit him in the face with a broadsword? That sort of spell? But no, that wasn't what the boy referred to, and he clarified so. His shock and horror wasn't due to his disfigurations, but because he was a lizard. A grin pulled at the sighted side of his face, and a breath of amusement left him. "Yeah, a'tually. 'E gae'me a tail an' all," Arkash spoke in jest. He hadn't been asked that before; it tickled him on some level. He shook his head after he allowed the answer to sink in. "Naw, I'm rathari. I'ss my species, no' ne'tive."
That brought Arkash to wonder. Just where did the young human come from? He couldn't have traveled far if he didn't know any rathari. The more he considered the boy, the more mysteries and unanswered questions he found. All of those, he compiled into a list of things he'd ask later. First things first, Arkash had to convince the human to help lift the grate, and it seemed he was true to his word. He truly considered helping Arkash once he'd shown his face, and it brought his one eye to light up with hope.
It seemed fair to ask the boy's reasoning once he'd given his own. What could they possibly want with the place? Neither of them belonged there, it was clear. So he listened closely to Orion's reasoning. His whole town wanted him to get some guns? Were they close by? At the thought, Arkash furrowed his one working brow. Was he from a neighboring dutchy? He'd never ventured too far from Nivenhain, so he didn't know for sure.
The second half of his talk hit differently. Was he trying to talk Arkash down? Because he could get hurt? It stung. Not just because he was advised against recklessness by someone younger than him, but because he was probably right. Arkash was in no fit state to win in a throw of hands. Even when he had all his limbs, he wasn't all that spectacular in hand to hand combat because of his skinny, malnourished frame. His pride was hurt, and the boy rubbed salt in the wound. "I c'n hand'l m'self," he spoke in a lower, more direct tone. Even if Orion was right, he couldn't admit so. It would be daylight out by the time they emerged from the sewers, so he couldn't rely on the element of surprise, either. He'd need to strategize once he was through.
"...Le'me worry 'bou' me, Mista Human," he spoke in turn, though there was a degree of hesitation, perhaps uncertainty about him. "I'll guideja through, but 'ou'll need t' open th' exit gre't you'erself. I c'n 'elp with th' firs'," he affirmed, then adjusted his hood as he turned, then brought his claw to rest on the pommel of his blade. It was without scabbard, and the detail of the serrated edge was almost clear in the early morning light, on display for the whole world to see.
The claws of his wrapped, hidden feet tapped the ground lightly as he walked, and the impression of his stiff tail protruded from his cloak while he tapped along the cobbled road. before they could turn the corner, he paused then lifted his claws from the pommel of his weapon to motion Orion closer; they were there. It only then occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself yet, but when could he? What would be an apt time? With a mental shrug, Arkash left it for a sewer talk. "Down 'ere," he spoke, then pressed into the alley. Of course, he was aware of how shady it looked to guide a lone foreigner into an alley in the dark, so his actions came very deliberately with plenty of wind-up time.
Once he stood over the grate, Arkash gave the air a brief sniff, then carefully lowered into a crouch where he gripped the grate with his one arm. "'iss is th' one," he spoke in assurance. After a moment of hesitation, he released the grate, then lifted his hood from his disfigured face once again. Once he could see clearly, he looked to the boy as he returned his hold on the heavy frame of iron bars. "Ready?" Whenever he said so, Arkash would press into his feet and heave...

[Orion]

Rathari. Orion realized he still had much to learn about the world -- almost every person he'd ever known had been a human, but he'd met a few others that deviated before. A few Elves passing through Betham, and then Clearwater -- escaping Sil-Elaine, some said. Wherever that was. His father had taught him about the Elves and some of their history when he was young -- he'd also taught him that once, the Koltoskan people were their slaves, thousands of years ago. They fled up north to get away from all of that, and that was how they found and built their new home. Aside from the Elves, though, he'd heard so little of others. Occasionally, the Knights that prowled by New Betham weren't regular men. They were larger, and winged, some of them taking flight like birds. He'd been told they were called something else, but he forgot their name.

So this man -- this 'Rathari' -- was like them, in a way... but entirely different. His 'species' somehow made him a man-Lizard. Orion's eyes lit up from excitement and curiosity rather than fear, upon learning these things from the Lizard. "So yer whole race is Lizard-People? That's mighty grand, Mister!" he exclaimed. "Yer gonna have ta tell me more abou' that. I ain' never heard of anythin' like tha' before."

The Ranger was grinning, now, stupidly -- this trip had already introduced so many new revelations. He was naturally curious, so much so that it often overtook his distant nature.

With a sudden bounce in his step, he nodded his head along as the other man continued to speak, digging one hand into his pocket and tipping his fiddler's cap lower. I can handle myself, the Lizard said. Let me worry about me...

Mister Human.

Orion grinned. "Righ' then," he replied. "Bu' don' go dyin' if ya can help it, alright?"

He continued to listen, then, as the other named his instructions: he had to help with the exit grate, but the Lizard could assist him with the first. Orion wasn't incredibly strong, but he wasn't weak, either -- he was a fairly athletic young man with a decent build, and he often helped the laborers in New Betham with lifting and pulling. He imagined he wouldn't have too difficult a time, so he nodded his head again. This time, he didn't speak, trying his best to resume his cool demeanor; surrendering to his curiosity felt rather embarrassing. Still, as they finally turned and walked towards and then down the alley, the shape of Arkash's tail was enough to get distracted by. It was such a unique thing to see, again, coming from the shape of a man.

As the darkness covered his peripheral, blinded by the shadows of buildings as they entered the alley, he almost felt his mustered bravery shrivel and his thoughts pulled away from the tail. Instead, the reality of the situation sunk in. A stranger... a dark alley, a morning early enough for it to appear as night, Lower Nivenhain, a strange and wounded creature who evaded the eyes of the Chevaliers and concealed himself entirely.

If there were ever a situation his mother would have warned him against, it was this one. He bit his lower lip.

The Lizard didn't know he had a gun -- he remembered that. If the other man tried anything, anything at all... his life would quickly fade. Orion wasn't an incredible shot, but he was good enough to kill a man before him without missing. And if the Lizard truly was missing an arm, it would be difficult for him to stop the Ranger from holding and aiming his weapon. The only worry, then, would be his bite.

He steeled himself, although - lightly - he was trembling. The Koltoskan stepped forward, keeping an eye on the other man as clearly as he could. He followed suit and began to bend over, silently whispering 'ready' before throwing his weight into his arms and knees and lifting hard. His face tensed as his body began to strain, the other man lifting with one arm to help him. His theory was confirmed, at least. Before long the metal began to pull upwards, and he slid the grate off of its frame steadily, his face beginning to go redder as he did. The metal was thick.

Once he slid it far enough over for them to fit though, Orion steadily let the grate down and leaned forward, breathing hard. The cold air entering his lungs was less than pleasant, in that moment.

"Alrigh', Mister Lizard. I got open yer grate. Yew go in first, an' then I'll follow. We'll need'ta pull this here grate back on, though. Or them Chevers will know somethin's amiss."

[Arkash]

Bless his heart, the boy believed that all rathari were lizard people. Though Arkash considered correcting him, he stayed his forked tongue. It didn't really matter, and unless the human decided to travel far from the reaches of Lorien, he wouldn't likely ever discover that he was wrong in his assumption. After all, it was unlikely they'd bump into one another again after that day. At least, that was what Arkash initially believed. Though Arkash grinned in turn to the human's gleeful, lighthearted curiosity, he didn't pursue the topic further, not immediately, at least.
The subject of his impending doom stole his attention, and that too closed with a wish of wellness. Arkash bowed his head in gratitude and flashed the boy a small smile before he turned away. He led the boy to the sewer grate in the alley. There, in the dark of the morning's low light, he could almost taste the tension that surrounded Orion. It wasn't as though he could blame the human, either, Arkash would have been just as frightened if the roles were reversed. But Arkash was a cripple, and half-blind. How bad could he be?
Despite his fear, the boy kept up his brave facade, and helped Arkash move the heavy iron grate... rather, Arkash helped Orion, who did most of the heavy lifting. The weight of the bars saw Arkash's entire arm shake with strain, and his teeth bared themselves through the lift, though he didn't once pause his breath; it was bad form to do so, as Asmodei had taught him. About half-way across, Orion let the grate down, and Arkash was oh-so quick to follow. It sounded a dull, metallic clunk as it met the stone of the alley's floor, and Arkash rested into his palm and one knee while he caught his breath. His lungs still weren't completely mended, it seemed. He doubted they would ever be.
While Arkash gathered his strength, he looked to the boy again. It was honestly a wonder why Arkash wasn't afraid of him. Perhaps it was the juvenile thought of 'Im older so I'm invincible' that stayed Arkash's fear? Maybe it was Orion's honesty? Whatever it was, it outweighed the fact that Orion was able-bodied, strong, and taller than he. His thoughts and reflection were repressed when the boy offered that he went first, and Arkash peered into the manhole. It was dark, even darker than the last time he tried to descend the ladder himself. "Ah, shore-."
That was a problem. The last time he tried to climb down a ladder by himself, he slipped and fell. Asmodei had been there to catch him, thankfully, but he didn't have that safety net at that time. "Easy," Arkash spoke in affirmation after a moment's pause, then clambered over to the entrance of the manhole and eased himself back into the gap they'd created, one foot after the other. His clawed hand gripped the cobbled stone floor while his stump pressed hard into the otherwise smooth surface. That would normally be the part where Arkash moved one of his hands into the manhole to grip one of the ladder's steps, but he only had one arm. That fact was suddenly clear to the human, as his empty sleeve laid flat against the ground from the elbow down.
He hesitated; he didn't know where to go from there. Then, an idea came to mind while he stared at his sleeve. He descended a little further as he reached for the next step down, then maintained his grip on the cobbled floor with his one set of claws while he moved his stump into the manhole. There, he slipped his sleeve through one of the iron bars that made the ladder, then bit the fabric hard with his serrated teeth. Then, with his sleeve secure as a sort of hook, he leaned back so allow it to take his weight, then lowered his whole arm into the manhole too.
It was a process, but he believed himself able to pull it off... and he did. Arkash gripped a lower step with his claws, then let go of his burlap sleeve. He waited there for a moment when he realized that he'd just touched the grimy sewer ladder with his sleeve. He couldn't just put it back in his mouth. As his heartbeat began to pick up, he looked into the dark of the sewer for the glimmer of a surface and tried to judge the distance of the fall. Once he was certain it wasn't that far, he looked back to the ladder he held, pulled himself close to it, then leaped off. Arkash plummeted a short distance, but aimed his heels well and bent his knees. The moment his feet touched the floor, he sank safely into a full squat, then landed on his tail with barely any impact at all.
His heart beat hard out of his chest, but he was fine. He was alive and nothing new was broken. "I'm orite!" He called to the manhole, then drew a deep exhale to steady his heart. Then, once he'd gathered his sense, he stood back upright to aid the boy if he needed it. "I c'n keep 'ew up proper while 'ew close it," he offered. If Orion accepted, he'd press his palm into the boy's back to help keep him stable while he moved the grate.

[Orion]

The sight of watching Arkash descend was as humbling as it was impressive. Orion worried for him at several moments, for the fate of the kindly-but-damaged 'Mister Lizard' as he tried desperately to keep himself suspended with only one arm. It became clear to the Ranger that he hadn't really thought of how to do this, before, until he was in the moment. That being said, Arkash's clever method of climbing down was impressive -- particularly given that he'd thought of it on the grips of some level of anxiety. The Koltoskan stared down with thoughtless anxiety, particularly before the other man allowed himself to simply descend, landing on his weight. Luckily, everything ended up being alright.

I'm orite! the Rathari exclaimed. Orion nodded his head, "Good to hear, Mister!" he yelled back. Arkash then proposed keeping him upright as he closed the grate, so that he could use his hands to move it back over rather than hanging onto the ladder. This caused the Koltoskan to grimace slightly as he thought of it all in the lens of his own better judgment. He never, ever would have done something like this -- let someone else hold his life in their hands -- at any other time. But there was, within him, some form of desperation: he did not want to fail his first stakeout. He wanted the people in New Betham to be impressed. And, he didn't hold as much fear of Arkash as he reasonably should have.

Trust was a difficult thing. He'd been trained not to give it all his life, but now he'd been asked to give it freely. To a mangled Rien, in the depths of an alley, at the foot of a sewer. There was so much wrong with what he was doing now -- and yet some immeasurable weight was upon his head, telling him that he had to. That he had no choice. Somehow he wanted to trust the Lizard, too, and a part of him felt wrong for considering him so threatening merely because of his characteristics. Despite his species, wounds, class and locale... he hadn't done anything harmful. He'd not taken any opportunity to 'strike'.

"Alright, Mister Lizard..." he said softly. It was almost as if Orion was resigning himself, to whatever fate might come. He stepped forward and turned around, before setting himself right and moving his feet down the ladder. Once he was low enough, he allowed Arkash to keep him upright, directing both of his hands to pull over the sewer grate, sliding it back onto its proper position. It was still heavy as hell -- and he only had his own strength this time -- but since its weight was pressing downward, sliding it was somewhat easier than pulling it up. Even given the awkward way in which he needed to pull it to the side.

He noted that it made a fair bit of noise as it slid, but -- the Chevaliers were far enough not to notice. After around a minute of straining and biting his teeth, the Ranger managed to pull the grate back over the ladder, before quickly climbing down and jumping onto his feet -- almost as if showing off. Though it wasn't his intent.

Either way, he wasn't dead. If Arkash hadn't taken that opportunity to jump him, then he probably wouldn't take any. At least when it came to mortal danger, he acknowledged that the Lizard could likely be trusted after all. To some bare degree. He wiped his hands off on his jacket and sighed.

"This place stinks," he pointed out obliviously. He'd never seen a sewer before. Orion didn't even know what a sewer was. "D'ya think this be where they keep all their shi'? Nasty," he frowned, looking around. It was... incredibly dark. He was thankful that he'd already learned to place some level of trust into the other man, or his anxiety would have been through the stone ceiling. In truth, it still was. The thought of falling into the water, or getting lost... or falling prey to some sewer-roaming Hollows or something, it was worrying. Lorien was a truly scary place, and that was even if one ignored the malignant birds. Even he knew a fair bit about them; their reputation was vast.

"How're we gon' find our way 'round here, Mister Lizard? D'ya have eyes trained fer this like a cat?" he asked. "Oh, and -- name's Orion, by the way. Orion White. I don' know if yew already guessed this like, bu' I'm from Koltoska. There're lotsa us in the East En' I think they call it, bu' I'm not from Lorien. I'm from a town down south, ya see." The man moved forward to offer Arkash a handshake, then -- even though their hands were covered in some level of grime. It was a strong compulsion; manners were everything, where he was from.

"What's yer name? Ya don' have ta tell me, but I think yer an alrigh' guy. Maybe ya can tell me more 'bout them Lizard-Folk while we walk."

[Arkash]

Orion accepted the help he had to offer, which was just as well. Arkash couldn't imagine having the strength to hold his weight on the ladder with one hand while the other moved the slab of rusty metal that made the grate; the feat seemed superhuman when he considered it. So, he straightened his body fully and braced his form to hold Orion's weight, but even that made Arkash shake with strain. Thankfully, he didn't have to hold on too long, as the boy managed to slide the slab over with both his hands instead of one.
The sound brought a great deal of anxiety to the rathari, and the image of the metal sheet falling into the sewer crept into his mind. The weight of the impact that would surely destroy the boy set his teeth on edge. "Careful," he warned in a tone that perhaps betrayed his anxiety. Though, his worry turned out to be for naught, as Orion managed to seal the way without a hitch. Arkash let him go, then stretched out his shaky arm. It had tired out his arm, he couldn't imagine how Orion might have felt.
There they were, submerged in nigh-complete darkness. The sounds of dripping and running water echoed from all around them along with the occasional chirps and squeaks of rats. The stink of rancid excretions burned at the eyes and nose with every blink or sniff. Just breathing through the mouth wasn't enough to escape the stench, as Orion might find that he could taste it in the air. It was hard to see in the dark, but the shapes of surfaces were almost visible in the low light of the dank passages. It was at least enough to ensure one didn't traipse off the walkway and into the stream of feces and melted snow that ran by.
"Yeah," he returned to Orion's observation. It did stink, but humans and elves defecated in the streets that he grew up on, it wasn't all that bad, just more intense than he was used to. "You's right," he answered the boy when his question came about their shit. "They's fuckin' grim," he replied in disgust when offered the opportunity. He paused when he caught that he was talking about humans, then reviewed what he'd said to make sure he didn't include humans in his sentence. "Rien people," he clarified, then promptly moved on.
The boy's fascination with his race brought him to smile again. Arkash had never thought the rathari were interesting, as most rien humans treated him and his family rather poorly. "Nah, my eye's prolly worse'n youers. Got a good sniff'r tho'," he and Asmodei had tested his senses recently, and he found that he was a little short-sighted, but he made up for it with his sense of smell. "Me 'n my..." What even was Asmodei to him? "...Friend, mark'd th' walls when we caem 'ere last. I'll sniff ou' the rat's blud t' fin' ar way." With that explained, the bundled up a portion of his oversized burlap shirt, then offered it to the human to hold. "Take 'is, an' be ready f'r sudd'n stops an' th' like," he warned, then began to walk the length of the darkened path. If Orion did cling to his shirt, it assured that the boy didn't get lost or go too far, they'd be close.
The rath drew his shortsword and extended his arm to the sewer wall, where he dragged the bunt edge of the blade along the bumpy texture of the brick passage. The sound of rattling metal on stone echoed through the tunnels while Arkash's claws clicked and lacked against the ground. "It's jus' m' sword," he'd assure whether Orion asked or not. The intent was to warn him whenever there was a sudden turn, so Arksh could check if the ground turned with the wall.
Orion was his name, the boy that he'd led into the dark of the city's underground tunnels. He was from a place called Koltoska, and lots of his people lived in the East End. Orion wasn't from there, though, he came from a town to the south. Arkash once often ventured to the woods there, but only so deep that he could gather firewood and tinder, and only as much as he could carry. To think there was a town in those parts, he almost didn't believe it. He'd cast the occasional glance back at Orion while the boy spoke to signal that he did, in fact, pay attention. That was until the boy offered a handshake.
He knew of the gesture, but it wasn't something he could recall practicing. Nonetheless, he tucked his blade into the crease of his stump arm, then accepted the boy's hand with his claws, and gently shook. His scales were dry and coarse, and his claws were hard and dull. His handshake held a certain unsure flimsiness, which might have been predictable, given the izard's hesitation. "Arkash," he returned. "Jus' Arkash." He smiled a little from his sighted side, then collected his blade again and resumed testing the walls. "I've neva 'eard of Koltoska if a'm 'onest. Dun leave Nivenhen oft'n."
Suddenly, the ring of his blade against the wall stopped, and Arkash froze with it. He braced his legs in case Orion kept walking and gripped the ground firmly with his claws. He didn't want to be knocked into the stream. Once he was secure, he moved his blade to swipe at the floor ahead of him, and found no floor; it wasn't an intersection, just a turn. Once Arkash adjusted his course, he spoke a brief "this weh," then continued along the altered course.
"The lizardfolk..." He thought aloud on the new path, and the rattle of his blade served as an ambient backdrop to his consideration. "Well, I dunno much. But the rath aren' all lizards. My mom wuz a wolf, my dad - a stallion. We c'n be all sor's o' beasts," he explained with a notable degree of concentration in his tone. There was an intersection nearby if memory served right. "No' many of uz in Lorien, though. Never met another side's my paren's."
"What do all 'ew Koltoskan's wan' with guns, anyway?" He hadn't thought about it much before, but why was there a need to arm a town with weapons? Could they be planning an attack on the city? Probably not, but Arkash couldn't be sure. When his blade met the empty air, he puased and braced his legs and gripped the floor with his claws again.A tap of the floor ahead of him revealed an elevated surface, a bridge. To his right, another path. With a hum, he lifted his blade to the wall and approached one of them before he tucked the weapon under his arm and lowered his muzzle to the brickwork. There, he sniffed around for a trace of rat blood....