Rudabeh's page

"Hundreds of families are in the same position." Rudabeh levels with Ghicek. "Motivation beyond duty to do our best."

Rudabeh will use her remaining 2 charges of Lay on Hands before going to sleep.

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 2) = 9
lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 2) = 6

Combined with 8 hours of rest she will be fully healed and ready for another beating!

The smell of burning awakens Rudabeh, a brief moment of concern and panic giving way to a grumbling stomach when she realizes it is bacon.

Rolling out of the barge's hammock with practiced ease, the undine lands on her feet and stretches, fingers touching the deck above her. Nothing hurt, and yesterday's injuries are no more than today's lessons.

Reflection was the most pragmatic of prayers, and the paladin sat down on a nearby stool with her copy of The Sacred Keystone for her morning devotion.

Opening the embossed silver book to the back, she pages through the addendums- a bit of regional gospel local bookbinders and priests add to the holy text that one would not find in a copy of The Sacred Keystones outside of the River Kingdoms. Some religions would find such "tacking on" to a holy text blasphemy, but considering community was a sacred keystone it was only natural for worshipers of Alseta to make their books representative.

Rudabeh's copy is only a few years old and contains a lengthy discussion on Veleda's many accomplishments and her construction of the Pact of Years. Rudabeh reads the story again, stopping to stare at the illustration of Veleda's hunger strike. The withered youth in the ink illustration looked closer to the old woman she had come to know in Daggermark than the organizer of the greatest governing body the River Kingdoms had ever seen.

Inhaling sharply, Rudabeh gently closes the book and comes to a decision on how she could help with the coming storm. She would not appeal to Danglosa, but instead to Alseta. It had been a decade since her Lady had blessed Outsea with a miracle. Rudabeh was going to ask for another one, and she was hoping to slip a message between the bars of The Agent Gate.

Spells prepared:

1st:
Command
Night Watch

2nd:
Aquatic Calvary

Rudabeh was topside with efficiency- it was startlingly how much quicker she moved without her armor, or having to prepare it.

She chokes down some terrible food, warning the sailors and Ostend of the coming storm before leaping off the side of the barge in an (unintentionally) dramatic fashion.

The salt gives from merely being on her lips to being on her tongue, filling her lungs and very being. Before the end of the day, it would be fresher than the Sellen and the gulls would be bobbing on the surface, gorging on dead fish.

With a graceful spin out of the column of bubbles she created, Rudabeh corkscrews around to check on Gig and Ractus.

Ruddabeh, with little to hide and less to lose, she notes Debracam lingering but chooses to ignore it.

"Of course not." The paladin responds to Ghicek's joke with a frown. "Every time I make an enemy I consider it a personal failure as a Paladin of Alseta." Thankfully, many of her enemies end up dead, keeping the list short and manageable. "Besides, know that I am oath-bound to respect legitimate authority, and I very much respect the Council."

"I..." Rudabeh blows more bubbles out of her nose as the Sergeant describes the political situation surrounding the local blacksmiths. "I try not to discriminate based on such matters, skill is my only concern. Besides, I thought I was already on the watch list?" If anything, it would give her the chance to introduce herself to a self-described Tally.

She gives the other undine a wry smile at his question. "Planning on defending myself is more like it. From whom or what, I can only pray to Alseta I will see it coming first."

Rudabeh holds up two fingers, webless and calloused. "Two more things. Can you tell me where Irovetti is staying? I lost track of him, and it seems I have been tasked by the General to be a better supervisor. Secondly, we spoke before about finding someone like yourself... Do you have any sons without the same knack as their old man looking to travel the River Kingdoms?" She jokes, dryly, as she tries to get a sense for Ghicek's humor.

We can move along after Rudabeh gets her answers. I'm guessing it's late, but she'll go bother Irovetti first if it's not too much of a trek.

A small smile tugs at the edges of Rudabeh's lips at the General's assessment, and she lifts slightly in the water. "Compromise is at its easiest when both parties have the same goals, or in trying times, the same enemies. I hope I can help you as much as you have helped our people all these decades."

Gaze averting momentarily, the paladin looks past the General, clearly in thought. Rudabeh wanted to say something else- it was apparent in the way she floated, feet not touching the ground, hovering in place. Tomorrow I could pray to Alseta at all the river locks, the dams, floodgates, so they may hold tight. But... there are other, closer gods with more at stake than my Lady. Her heart was always with Alseta, but this was the realm of Danglosa. Could Alseta assist, or was Rudabeh ignorantly dipping a toe into celestial politics? On the other fin, what price would the twin gods enact, if they were even willing or able to help?

Finally, after a heavy pause and an internal struggle, she blows a light stream out of her nose; a silent sigh. "If and when indeed. I apologize, I may not be able before or during the storm, but I will make an effort to be available after. Thank you, General." She reaches up to touch her Iron Key, feeling its ever-present warmth. "May Alseta ensure your currents flow unimpeded."

She looks to Sergeant Ghicek, letting the General leave if he wishes. "I am in need of some quick armor repairs. Magical, I think. Do you know of any magical menders? A priest of Torag would be ideal, but I am not picky."

Rudabeh remains silent on the assertion that Finn's friendship could be bought, though the thought he could be right disturbs her. Larvis was more a mother to her than Daabi, and had the General said such words to her yesterday, she would have readily jumped to the mercenary's defense. Yet today, she witnessed something... different in Finn. A darkness, devoid of light, where not even a bloodybelly comb jelly drifts...

The sudden debate over who would purchase her hard-fought mother-of-pearl pulls Rudabeh out of her rumination, brow arching in surprise at Voyumre suddenly offering to pay double. She was already thrilled to tell her father about this opportunity- after all, the floated clamshells tied behind the barge were still filled with their original (if... singed) mother-of-pearl, and if they couldn't find someone to buy them whole, they could be easily scraped for some quick money.

In the nearly still waters of Voyumre's home, Rudabeh is the first to feel the pulses in the water from behind her. Someone was moving towards them in starts and stops, the pressure wave making its way around corners to their edge of the room. The paladin turns her body slightly , first spotting the skum and then the beraggled Sergeant.

With the movement of a single toe, Rudabeh pushes off the stone floor and drifts backwards to give Rssim her full attention. Ears taut at the sides of her head, she flinches involuntarily at the depth of the coming cap. Hundreds would be forced into the Twilight alone...

"How long do we have before the storm?" Rudabeh interjects as Voyumre is already jetting away.

"Of all places, I'm glad I was brought here." The paladin offers to her old friend with a gracious bow of her head. "We will find time. After."

Limpid eyes dart from Ghicek to the General. "A time of great vulnerability is upon us." She says quietly, settling into a thoughtful frown. She was sure Voyumre would ensure the continuation of their delicate home, but at what cost? And who would attempt to take advantage of the chaos to come?

Rudabeh takes the lecturing and monologuing, effortlessly switching between using one foot to balance against the stone floor while the other treads water in a slow, ciurclar motion that, to a lubber, would make her appear to be floating slightly. Her arms have moved to behind her back, and she wears an expression of concentration, though her ears are level and relaxed.

So... Derbacam does not know Vrasa's motivations. Power cannot be all of it. Everyone said the same about Irovetti, and even he wanted to build a legacy, turn Pitax into a true kingdom with nobles and knights... Perhaps Vrasa is funding public works for the same reasons, to change Outsea or gain recognition? To work towards that idea should be as good as any teeth. Instead of immediately pointing out the General's generalizing, the Paladin tactfully bows her head at the end of the lecturing. "I understand, and know I do not pontificate the teachings of Alseta, but follow them. Violence is a last resort, reserved only for those that refuse or are unwilling to negociate, and here it is not even an option."

Her head lifts, looking the General in the eyes across the sterile room. "Firstly for the structural reasons, but secondly that Vrasa is employing and supplying Larviss Finn. I doubt there is anyone that could meet her in single combat in Outsea, and her commanding skills are just as impressive. Unless the entire Council and the Milita joined forces with myself and my soldiers there would be no stopping her in a show of strength."

Yet Rudabeh reaches up to touch the center of her chest, a small smile on her lips. "Thankfully, Alseta has blessed me with a long and friendly history with my former mentor. It would take the worse of conspiracies and circumstances for us to come to blows. She was hired to solve the problem with the Tallies, after all, and we will figure this out together."

Straightening, the undine allows herself to sink a quarter of an inch to the floor, boots firmly planted on the stone. It was as metaphorical as it was a practical gesture in Outsea, to ground oneself. "Yet, for a Captain to leave port with empty provisions, hoping they will be filled on the journey, will find that Hope does not fill the stomachs of sailors. I do have soldiers here with the intent of serving the Council's needs, supplementing the Milita and taking contracts. I want to propose to the Council they be housed in the Lubber barracks during our stay. I also wish to fulfill the bounty on Mother of Pearl you have standing, to pay them and provide board."

Tilting her head, she briefly considers the politics of the situation, now a more accustomed thought in her mind. "Is the Council convening tomorrow? I know they will summon me eventually for questioning, but perhaps, General, you could summon me to the Nautilus yourself knowing my agenda, and I will appear at your call." Rudabeh left the rest unsaid, unsure if her appearing at Derbacam's word would be beneficial to him.

Rudabeh barely reacts to Derbacam's outburst- she blinks a few times, but otherwise continues to float placidly. It was fairly common among undines to express brief, intense emotion, and though she knew what he was saying to be both true and his real feelings, she also knew he would calm down soon enough.

Voyumre says everything Rudabeh might have if she had not decided to remain silent and let the General run his grievances downstream.

The paladin's face does flash with a bit of concern when Derbacam calls her an outsider, and perhaps all the accusations of spreading chaos were finally getting to her as well. Images of Pitax flash into her mind, the bodies in the streets... she had caused so much harm before any good came of it...

But the old Alsetan method of "say nothing" seems to win out, and Derbacam starts to entertain her ideas. "I will be as careful as I can be, and make my actions known to you if I can. The Tallies seem quite dangerous, and as you put, anarchic. It will only be by the blessing of Alseta I can gain enough of their trust to hopefully accept some sort of compromise that can be brought before the Council." She says evenly, indeed hoping her goddess delivers some sort of opportunity. Derbacam seems an unreliable source to understand the motivations of the Tallies, and Rudabeh suspects they want the same thing most humans want- peace and prosperity at any cost.

"If I can settle the dispute between Vrasa and the Tallies, perhaps I could move towards representing them, and mediating an understanding between the Tallies and the Council..." The paladin takes in a great breath and sighs, a stream of small bubbles swirling from her open mouth before rapidly vanishing. She remembered all her grand plans for Pitax..."But one matter at a time. General, I do not understand how Vrasa came to such power and wealth in a mere decade. I have heard rumors of smuggling and narcotics, financing public works and influencing Council decisions, but how did it happen? How deep do they swim, and what is their goal?"

"Thank you, General." Rudabeh intones at what she perceives to be kind words about paladins in general. She had still never met another paladin in the chaotic lands of the River Kingdoms- Derbacam must be well traveled.

She should have known the General would be most concerned about Irovetti. Even Veleda didn't want the man in Daggermark. Rudabeh had tied herself to a pariah that entangled himself in rogue elements wherever he went. "You are correct it is not Veleda's style. It was my decision alone." The paladin begins, never shirking from her oath to take full responsibility for her actions.

Breaking eye contact with the General to look at her Iron Key, Rudabeh turns over the warm metal in her fingers while recounting the tale of Pitax. "Some months ago Veleda sent me to Pitax to attend a tournament held by Irovetti. I was soon contacted by the dissidents of the city, those looking to overthrow Irovetti and his gilded iron fist. They sought my help. At first I had hoped to broker an agreement between the rebels and Irovetti to avoid violence, but in my naive hope the king would listen I exposed their plans and he struck the first blow against them. I had still hoped to quell the rising tide of violence welling in the hearts of Pitax's citizens, but..."

She breathes in sharply through her nose, currents swirling in front of her face. The water in the room smelled so... clean, like salt-tinged rain. "At the tournament a cruel noble murdered another combatant during a joust. I knew he did it on purpose, thinking he was above retribution. I charged him with murder in front of the crowd and sentenced him to pay for the resurrection of the murdered or be put to death. The citizenship, starved for justice, broke the barricades and rioted. I choose then to help The People, to take Irovetti's hand off of their throats."

Shifting about, Rudabeh makes the slightest of movements and starts to float over to a crook in a wall. As she speaks, she smoothly drifts into the crevice to sit. "I took part in many battles. Killed guards and soldiers just doing their job. Spoke with the people, fanned their flames of passion. But when I looked at the piles of corpses I walked across for the sake of peace, I knew thousands more would die if I did not stop the violence. So I gave up my sword and walked to Irovetti's palace myself to broker peace."

She smiles slightly, remembering the fortification of the First Palace. How many would have died on those white walls? The crazed look in Irovetti's eyes when he showed her the mirror that allowed him to communicate with the Magma Dragon... "I was ready for him to kill me out right. But instead, we spoke. He revealed to me a magic item in his possession that allowed him to speak with a magma dragon in the Plane of Fire, with whom he had made a deal with to bolster Pitax's defenses. And if he were to break this mirror, the dragon itself would appear at the cost of some terrible price... and Irovetti made it clear he would rather pay this price and burn the city to the ground than give it up."

Rudabeh swallows now, briefly biting the insides of her cheeks as she recalls the details of their deal. "That mirror is still in his possession, for I offered him a better deal. Give up the throne, become my advisor, and when I lead the Pact I will place him in a position of power equal to that of a king." Looking between the General and Voyumre, the paladin looks as if she had eaten a bittersweet root indeed. "He accepted, and I swore an oath to protect him. Pitax was saved, and I though there is much more to the story, perhaps I can recount it another time. We are bound now, and though I think it was a small price to pay for an entire city, many others have different views. That is fine. I do not keep close watch over him, for I fear my oaths to protect him and to uphold justice would quickly come in conflict. Instead, General, I let him dig up the seabed, and see what he kicks up in the chaos."

The undine starts to slowly rotate her entire body along her center of mass- a sign of deep thought, as a lubber would steeple their fingers. "Indeed, I am glad in his muck-raking he has met with the Tallies, something I believe I would have struggled to accomplish on my own. I intend to speak with them, in hopes I can understand what it is they do and what they want. In hopes of settling the labor dispute between them and Vrasa as a mediator. In addition, I have seen the animosity, the hate in their eyes, and the words of the water-breathers about humans. There is a racial reckoning coming to Outsea, is there not, General? Irovetti may have opened the way for me to step in, and I hope, at the very least, cool the temperature of the waters."

Pausing outside with Ghicek, she lets the snipe survey his surroundings without interference. It was a difficult thing to know if you were being watched in the deep, dark waters. Some creatures had senses far more keen and wide-reaching than darkvision- you never knew exactly how you were being watched.

There was nothing within sight besides wildlife minding its own business, but she had always wondered if there were any druids that turned to spycraft... surely no one would pay attention to an errant mackeral in these waters, though perhaps the risk of predation would be greater than the risk of discovery.

Trusting Ghicek they have permission to enter The Cube, Rudabeh touches her Iron Key anyway. My goddess, forgive me if I enter this home unwelcome, and bless me with the words to stay welcome if I am.

Her prayer floats out into the astral plane as they cross the threshold of the dwelling and into the drawing room.

Rudabeh is briefly distracted by the wax plans, the intricate drawings, and the small ideas that represent grand undertakings. Each one of these projects would tower over her, all of them, taking decades. Creating architecture was a sacred act in the worship of Alseta; yet Rudabeh found it curious there is nothing in the scripture about Alseta herself being an architect in the material sense, even though it is very clear The Welcomer has expressed a great admiration and even concestrated clever, simple designs in buildings. Not all of the turtle marks on the archways of buildings were carved by mortal hands... gospel and rumor say a rare few have appeared on their own in the River Kingdoms and abroad, though the carvings are often so simple that proving such claims are difficult without magic.

If the gods have preferences, then surely they have hobbys as well? She thinks, before being ushered out of her distracted gazing by Ghicek.

As they enter the meeting room, Rudabeh is somehow reminded of the cave beneath Gargant's. It was as if the room had sat untouched for hundreds of years, sealed off from the outside, yet she knew that was not the case. Sweeping her eyes over Voyumre Vemlohy, she notes the gloves. To cut back one's finger-webbings is a concious and impactful decision. It required relearning to swim, and normally only those water-breathers that wore heavy gauntlets like Rudabeh or handled animals prioritized their hands over relearning decades of muscle memory. The rest took their nicks and developed tough skin.

So why did an engineer need gloves? The undine put it in the back of her mind- maybe another time.

"Thank you, Voyumre, it is very good to see you again too." Rudabeh says with a bow of her head, placing one hand on her chest over her Iron Key. "I would also like to thank you for inviting me into your home at this late hour for business that I hope will not bore you overmuch."

With her thanks given to the host, the paladin turns to Derbacam. Her feet firmly on the spotless floor of the dwelling, which seemed to be clear even of the ubiquitous marine snow, she bends her torso into a deep bow, one hand on her Iron Key to prevent it from dangling downward, eyes closed and her head down. "General Derbacam, firstly I wish to apologize. Sergeant Ghicek has tactfully informed me my actions today caused you some difficultly in meeting me. Please forgive me for putting you in a difficult situation. As one that strives to swim in the light of Truth, I often do not consider how my actions may be interpretted by others because I hide nothing of myself that others do not ask me to hide. I merely desired to see my family and old friends, and saw it as nothing more regardless of where it lead me."

Rudabeh straightens- her outfit was pristine, but Derbacam could easily tell she had been in a bad, recent fight by her cruises and posture. "Thank you for meeting with me regardless of my oversight. I was also truthful in my letter, and do wish to discuss the sale of mother-of-pearl to outfit and pay the soldiers under my command, as well as their boarding and possible contracting to supplement the Outsea militia. I did hope the conversation would lead to other matters, such as the state of Outsea and how Vrasa rose to such power, which I am putting forward now. To be clear, I was not sent here by Veleda on any official business, and wanted to know the attitude and concerns of the Council before, as I was warned, they requested to speak with me in a formal session."

The whole ordeal was at danger of turning into a speech- Rudabeh's words are delivered with conviction, clear and strong, as she attempted to both humble herself before the General and convey her actions and motives as non-threatening. "My father gave his word you were still a fine representative of the undines of Outsea and worth my trust. I am sorry I was unable to return the sentiment, but hope to foster that relationship starting now, General."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27

Ractus was a good swimmer, but only because he beat the water into submission like all lubbers that learned not to drown. It must be exhausting to swim like that, but lubbers really had no other choice besides relying on magic.

It had been over a decade since Rudabeh swam with another water-breather, but she had not forgotten what a delight it was. Ghicek leads the way, taking the brunt of the counter-currents and leaving an easy wake for Rudabeh to follow. With every twist and movement he left behind sutble clues in the water that told of his next direction and speed, and Rudabeh effortlessly and gracefully followed without her armor slowing her down. They spun over the school of jellyfish with little concern, creating a small pulse of water to briefly keep them at bay. The ripple travels the group, causing them to wobbble like lanterns in the wind.

Sometimes in their bubble of darkvision bits of light flash through from the Twilight- a trap, a meal, or a sign of distress. It was impossible to know without taking the risk, and the further one descended the more risky finding out became. Yet the carefully curated nature of Outsea did not leave one blind. Navigation was difficult away from the walls of the well, but a series of posts laquered with some special paint imported from the Darklands blazed white in their darkvision, giving them bearing and keeping them in a "lanes" between buildings or away from the deeper parts of the well. If you stopped seeing the posts, some specially marked to warn of particually deep waters, you knew you went too far towards the center of the well.

They stay so imbeded amongst the buildings Rudabeh does not even see one marked post for waters leading to the Twlight, and the upcoming building was gleaming in the pale moonlight through her darkvision like a bleache whale bone. A bubbly snort escapes her lungs when she realizes Ghicek is heading directly for the sterile abode. "Does Voyumre still live in The Cube?" The paladin asks quieter than usual- she did know that in the cold waters, sound traveled far, and while she was not a discreet person she was no fool. Predators had ears, too, and being quiet at night was ingrained in those that grew up in the ocean.

"Discretion beyond reproach." Rudabeh repeats the phrase, savoring the words in her mouth as one would savor the oozing fat of a freshly bitten fish. "A divine trait, in my faith."

Even though she was expecting it he waterfront seems to appear suddenly, only foretold by the gentle slopping of rippling waves. She stops as Ghicek does, listening silently to his explanation of duty and the connection to Outsea that few water breathers can, or want to, escape.

"I understand completely." she begins, trying to focus on the twinkling lights slowly being washed out by the bright light of the creeping moon. "If I had not sworn myself to serve Alseta and the cosmic force of Law, I would be doing the same as you. I envy the fact you get to protect this beautiful and unique puddle. You can see it, touch it, and your actions can directly influence it." Kneeling down, she sees a hermit crab vainly attempting to pull out a larger shell stuck in the crushed coral of the road.

"The Pact of Years is like twenty independent Outseas all poured into the same bowl, but with worse food. The concept of Law and service to Alseta is the ocean, effectively infinite and beyond any one beings understanding. I may be a remora at the Pact of Years, but I am a single bit of algae in the cosmos, carried along by unseen currents caused by the splashing of the gods." Rudabeh stands, moving her foot and placing the heel of her boot upon the shell. The crab scuttles off to better things as she crushes the shell into the surrounding coral, adding it to the fabric of the road. "May the scales of judgment never force me to choose between our special home, the pact, or the greater good. I'm glad you will always know the right choice, Ghicek."

The salt calls, and at the edge of the water Danglosa's hook and line begins to become taut upon her soul. "So lead on, I can tell you're doing what you think is best for Outsea and I respect that."

Rudabeh looks more and more guilty as Ghicek talks, until her ears are folded back and she has two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alseta perserve me, it does look really bad when you lay it all out. I am terrible at this job. I find it ironic that hiding nothing can be as detrimental as hiding everything." The news about Irovetti does not give her the slightest pause. It is not at all surprising, and may even be helpful when she speaks to him next.

She draws in a deep breath, the tangy salt air that once infalted her ego merely serving as a reminder that even though this was home, she still had to be the hier apparent of the Pact of Years. "I'm not here on any official business. I have nothing to report to the Council, so I did not ask after them, though I was warned they will summon me eventually. I wanted to talk to Derbacam before that happened." Sheepsihly, she points a thumb back towards the sounds of some far-off drinking song springing up from The Polite Clam. "I really did want to speak with the General about selling mother-of-pearl. I... promised the soldiers uniforms. Political talk was a bonus."

Shaking her head, Rudabeh relaxes and gestures for the Sergeant to stand up. "No, obviously I am not proud I cannot meet the General in his office. It's embarassing. Yet my excuses and self-pity are of little use to you. Please proceed, though you still did not tell me exactly where we are headed." The paladin abandons her plans to use Touch of Truthtelling on the Sergeant to repeat his statements- if anything, she deserved to be stuffed into a sack now.

As they begin to walk, Rudabeh is not silent. Despite being fifty pounds lighter and no longer making the same amount of noise as a peddler's cart stuck inside of a steeple bell in a hurricane, she still has a bad habit of projecting her voice more than needed. "So do you work only with General Derbacam, for the entire Council, or are you available for hire? You seem a rare breed... How would I go abut employing someone such as yourself? The last "discreet" person on my team stole all the utensils and spices from the galley of our barge before being dismissed and I hope to someday find someone more... law-abiding."

Rudabeh looks more and more guilty as Ghicek talks, until her ears are folded back and she has two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alseta perserve me, it does look really bad when you lay it all out. I am terrible at this job. I find it ironic that hiding nothing can be as detrimental as hiding everything." The news about Irovetti does not give her the slightest pause. It is not at all surprising, and may even be helpful when she speaks to him next.

She draws in a deep breath, the tangy salt air that once infalted her ego merely serving as a reminder that even though this was home, she still had to be the hier apparent of the Pact of Years. "I'm not here on any official business. I have nothing to report to the Council, so I did not ask after them, though I was warned they will summon me eventually. I wanted to talk to Derbacam before that happened." Sheepsihly, she points a thumb back towards the sounds of some far-off drinking song springing up from The Polite Clam. "I really did want to speak with the General about selling mother-of-pearl. I... promised the soldiers uniforms. Political talk was a bonus."

Shaking her head, Rudabeh relaxes and gestures for the Sergeant to stand up. "No, obviously I am not proud I cannot meet the General in his office. It's embarassing. Yet my excuses and self-pity are of little use to you. Please proceed, though you still did not tell me exactly where we are headed." The paladin abandons her plans to use Touch of Truthtelling on the Sergeant to repeat his statements- if anything, she deserved to be stuffed into a sack now.

As they begin to walk, Rudabeh is not silent. Despite being fifty pounds lighter and no longer making the same amount of noise as a peddler's cart stuck inside of a steeple bell in a hurricane, she still has a bad habit of projecting her voice more than needed. "So do you work only with General Derbacam, for the entire Council, or are you available for hire? You seem a rare breed... How would I go abut employing someone such as yourself? The last "discreet" person on my team stole all the utensils from the bardge and I hope to someday find someone more... lawful."

Rudabeh inhales deeply as they walk through the propped-up doors of The Polite Clam. The salty tang on the air and the cool breeze coming off of the waters invigorates her, and despite her injuries from fighting the adaptive ooze, she feels good. The smell of the sea even made her forget about the injury to her ego that she suffered, and the paladin boldly strode into the darkness with Ghicek. She wondered who he worked for- Derbacam, the Council, Vrasa, whomever was fixing the fights at Gargant's (they had to be upset about the forfeited bet, the ooze, and the arena), the Tallies, or maybe Irovetti had already landed himself in trouble, if this wasn't one of his schemes.

The undine's ears fan outward slightly in surprise at the Sergeant's bluntness, her head tilting slightly as she looks him straight in the eyes. "Interesting technique. I honestly expected to be netted right here, but you want me to just... walk into the crab basket instead?"

Eyelids falling down and brow furrowing, she waves her palms towards Ghicek. "Look, I'm hoping we can dispense with the secrecy now that we're away from the public and my soldiers. I'm quite familiar with meetings at strange places for unknown parties, but that was under the mantle of an arbiter as the Eyes of Alseta. This is clearly something else, and frankly I am too busy to be interrogated, ransomed, killed, or whatever your handler may have in store for me."

Shifting her weight to one foot, she lifts one hand in the air and then to her chest in a pleading gesture. "So please. Just tell me who sent you, what they want from me, and where they told you to take me. If this entity wants to talk, we can arrange it officially. I did not come to Outsea to make enemies and will lend my ear to all factions here equally, without resorting to skullduggery."

Rudabeh regards the strange undine, now more curious than paranoid. Sergeant Ghicek didn't seem to be tricking her- he wasn't pretending to be anyone important, or rushing to convince her to do anything. Either that was the point and he was meant to be a snipe in the reeds, some sort of eyes and ears for Derbacam, or this undine was very good at lying.

"I... think I understand." The paladin says carefully, though the tone of her voice brings any understanding at all into question. "Though I was merely expecting a reply. I could have seen myself to the General's home. The escort is flattering, but very unorthodox for a business transaction."

Maybe she came on a little too strongely in her message. There were important topics to discuss, but she really did want to sell that mother-of-pearl.

"Well." Rudabeh says with a sigh, picking a bit of crab carapace out of the folds of her finely woven outfit. "If this is a spawn-napping let's get it over with, shall we?" A smile of utter fearlessness punctuates the impish statement.

Turning to her inebriated soliders sitting at the table, Rudabeh switches to Taldane. "I'm off to speak with General Derbacam. I leave you with this- if you dropped a magical talking boot into the Well, would you be charged with littering or abandonment?" That would probably keep them occupied for another hour, if they could forget about the mimics at least.

Gesturing towards the door, Rudabeh moves to follow Ghicek.

The lack of humans in the Polite Clam left Rudabeh puzzled. She placed this in her mind alonside the gillman that was cursing the humans earlier, the problem with the Tallies... was this why Veleda had sent her here? Not the crime, or to get Rudabeh to stop causing trouble in Daggermark, but to styime the growing divide between the growing human population and the Outseers?

The problem made her uncomfortable. Though she litterally had feet in both worlds, how could she, a native Outseer, gain the trust of the Tallies enough to open a dialogue about solving their problems? If Finn is able to arrange a meeting with the Tallies to negociate the labor dispute... no, Rudabeh may need to speak with them to even get them to come to the table. But it was doubtful she was going to find any information here.

Rudabeh is sitting at a table of her men, listening to an asinine, greenwater-fueled argument between two archers about if it would be a better idea to use a mimic as a crossbow or as the bolt in a crossbow when the undine sergeant steps inside.

Casting an eye over him, before he notices her presence, she furrows her brow over his sword, his dryness, and the lack of salt sticking to his skin. If he had any awards or corals pinned to his lapel, she'd swear he would be ready for a parade.

The concern has left her features when he approaches, and she lifts her head to hear his statement. Something seemed off, and she could not get the image of "Samuel" standing on the walls of the First Palace, looking completely innocuous before suddenly turning into an exploding mercenary.

Rising from her chair, she says slowly and graciously- "That is good, thank you Sergeant...?" Her head tilts, expecting a name. "I am Rudabeh." Her bare hand is extended in greeting- not a traditional Outsea greeting for certain, but she wanted to feel his hand, to see if it was wet or the salt still clung to it.

Her eye casts downward at the insignia on his breast to identify his unit. "Are you with the General's Guard?"

knowledge:local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

sense motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

With her approach, some of the more keen-eyed members would notice her presence even with the plethora of exotic distractions around them. She gave them polite nod, or wave, and resisted the urge to speak with them or give advice on what foods to try. Business came first.

The young gillman recommended by the tavern owner gets a sizing up from Rudabeh- the lad was spry, bright-eyed, and most importantly, moist. He had clearly been working all day- speedy and reliable, no doubt.

She pays to use the tavern's slate stationary and their luminescent stylus, though she decides she should once again find her own botte of the common, green bioluminescence grease drawn onto flattened slabs of stone for underwater commmunication.

The rod-like stylus made of continually sharpened bone is dipped into the mixture of fat and bioluminescent slurry, and Rudabeh is quickly writing out a message in flowing Aquan, starting with a traditional Outsea greeting:

May this messgage find your pools at low tide, General Derbacam.

I, Rudabeh, acting in my capacity as a representative of the Pact of Years, ask the Honorable General to meet and discuss the fulfillment of the bounty on mother-of-pearl from recently acquired Gigas stock. Please sound-back with a meeting time; or summon me at your earliest convenience.

High tides in the shallows,

Rudabeh,
Representative of the Pact-of-Years
Paladin of Alseta

And ending with a traditional phrase, bringing the positive message from low tide to high tide under good circumstances. Should the message had been negative, she would have started with an unfavorable low tide or inclement weather to an even worse high tide or disastrous weather, or switching between the two in order to communicate a change in tone.

She did not include her entire agenda in the message, but knew that Derbacam, or whomever reads the message, would know that pointing out she was acting in her official capacity would allude to other desired business.

The softly glowing slab is placed inside a bight red clam shell and tied together with a string before she hands it to the young gillman, along with a flake of mother-of-pearl so thin it could be mistaken for a fish scale.

"Swim well, and thank you. I will stay here and await your return."

Rudabeh wanders outside of the tavern, her pace casual at already deciding to stay. It was getting late. She still wanted to speak with her brother- but would she be able to find him before exhaustion took her? And her armor was broken within her pack, but the thought of arming herself, of the humiliation she faced in front of Finn left a cold pit in her stomach.

Instead, she looks about at the soldiers surrounding her, and admires The Hunt. She takes a step towards the painted dancers and the young gawking soldiers unused to unsexalized nakedness. Perhaps she would take a brief break, help guide her soldiers through this cultural change, and wait for the General's reply.

Leaving Ractus under the chopping waves Rudabeh looks over the assembled troops. They were all oath-bound as she was, and she had seen them fight against bandits and monsters with great success. WIth the exception of Gig, each could hold their own; their skill and loyalty reaffirmed her choice to dedicate herself to Alseta's teacings of peace and diplomacy. They didn't need her blade, they needed her to guide Alseta's light.

The sinking sun illuminates the undine's dripping back, causing an unwelcome warm radiance to begin spreading across her skin. Soon the soaked folds of her Pitaxian courtier's outfit would dry and she would be left to face the punishing heat of another River Kingdom's summmer. For reasons she did not understand the dark fabric seemed warmer than her thick, shining armor, but it was but a brief thought.

"All of Outsea is a delicate balance. We rely on the animals, and the plants, and all the little bugs we cannot see as much as they rely on us." Rudabeh says to Silvui as she repeats what any Outsea child even a lubber, would say in response. "The motivation is fairly simple. If we don't maintain the balance, nearly everyone and everything in Outsea's waters would die."

Kneeling down to peak with Gig, she looks the grippili in the bulbous eye. "You've done fine work today Gig, but don't forget to rest. Let Ractus take a shift keeping the clam shells safe." She muses internally for a moment before adding. "Maybe help him learn to speak underwater while you're at it. He's all bubbles right now."

After giving Litta directions to her parent's home/warehouse and impressing on her the desire for disrection, Rudabeh sets off for The Polite Clam, half-expecting to find a riot in progress.

She is pleasantly surprised at the genial atmosphere and manners the soldiers are displaying off-duty. Pride trickles into her heart as she surveys them from afar- without her armor she is just another undine in the crowd, and the brief, unfamiliar anonimity gives her a chance to see the former mercenaries relaxed. They were good picks, all of them, and she hoped one day they would be a shining example of what the Pact of Years Represented.

After approaching the establishment and checking in with the officer charged with R&R duty, Rudabeh is briefly concerned about Irovetti's absence. Leaving him to his own machinations had nearly gotten them both killed in Daggermark, and then his party afterwards witnessed both a duel that caused someone's hand to be blown off as well as an attempted mass poisoning by a foreign enemy power.

Well, as long as he doesn't blow out a dam, it should be fine. Rudabeh assauges herself, as if that was the worse the former king could accomplish.

She had other plans, as it was- she needed to arrange a meeting with the undine General, and The Polite Clam always had reputable quick-footed and/or quick-finned children ready to deliver shells in exchange for anything of value.

Rudabeh starts to wonder if Sledlon is actually insane, but remembers her teachings and decides not to judge. "Well, then I have found the perfect person to act as my guide. I will send a swimmer when my preparations are complete."

Eyeing up Dimi with a worried look that would make any mother nod in understanding, she sighs and puts it out of her mind. Dimi can make her own choices, even if they're foolish. Alseta knows everyone lets me do whatever I want and that hasn't always been a good idea, either.

The spell is cast upon Ractus and Rudabeh starts to reach out a hand in concern when the elf begins turning an uncharacteristic, but not unseemly, shade of blue. She never reaches the elf, and when he dashes for the water the undine barks a laugh when she realizes the spell the druid had used.

"I should have known when you said "lungs" instead of "gills". Well, he'll have plenty of time to swim around and taste the salt now." Turning to the aquatic elf Rudabeh gives a small bow of her head. "Thank you Sledlon, and may you find inspiration in our story of sea hags and clams. I will speak with you again soon."

To her sister, she extends her arms for an embrace. "If you can spare one hug? For me?" Rudabeh's large frame engulfing her sister's diminutive statue would be like a great white swallowing a guppy, but she just wanted to know her sister she was loved.

After saying her good-byes, Rudabeh casually strolls to the edge of the bubble to the floating Ractus. "I suppose I should give you some recommendations on where you can stay now that you're a bottom-walker." She says in common as bubbles fly out of her mouth and rejoin the arena behind them.

Laughing at her own joke, she waves a hand. "I jest, I know you can swim, but you may want to ilicit some pity in your current condition. I would suggest asking for a cargo net to sleep in so you don't sink to the floor during the night." Rudabeh makes a pinching motion with her fingers. "Some crabs take their chances even if you're still alive."

Extending a hand, she offers to give him a tow through the water. "Or you can come with me. I was going to check on Gig and the barge. Maybe you should stay with them tonight instead, and I can go to the Polite Clam to make sure it's not getting too rowdy. I have some swimmers to send anyway."

Rudabeh's current Agenda:

Check on Gig/troops at barge, check on troops at Polite Clam.

At the Polite Clam send message to Undine General (forgot his name) to set up a meeting time to discuss selling Mother of Pearl. While she does want to talk about that, she also wants to discuss housing her soldiers in the militia barracks, and the seeming indifference of The Council to Vrasa, though that will not be incuded in the message.

While she is at the barge or the inn she will assign Litta, wherever she is, and 3 others to guard the family home.

Rudabeh sees the change instantly when her sister clasps the cloak, and she surpresses an amused grin very poorly. "I was worried it was permenant too the first time I tried it." She remarks, giving a chuckle. "I am dedicated to the truth. I cannot be anything but I currently am. But... you are mercurial, and can be whatever you want, right? I think you'll find a use for it."

The big sister shrugs, making a plaintive and hopeful gesture. "Maybe you could go topside now and pay da a visit, at least."

Letting Dimi crystalize the thought, she turns to the elven druid. "I don't want to lay eyes on a Sea Hag ever again, but I do need to descend into the Darkness soon, as soon as I get my armor fixed. I can't tell you exactly where we will be going until we leave, and I understand if that is a problem, but I can tell you I will know the direction we need to go... it will be everything in between that will require your assistance."

Bending down, Rudabeh closes her bag of holding, sighing and throwing it over her shoulder. Another long day, another set of aches, and a ong list of things still to do. "If you're still interested, let me know where Ican find you, or send a swimmer. I think it will be the experience of a lifetime."

With a gesture at Ractus, she inquires. "In the meantime, could you help Ractus take on just a bit more salt water today? Enough to get to the surface?"

"... so we decided to just get out as quickly as possible. We sailed past the village, right through the remains of the dam, many of the town waving goodbye at us while our own soldiers shook their fists and spat in the river." Rudabeh chuckles, thinking it an odd and discomforting scene then, but seeing the humor in it now.

"And that's the tale, unless you want to hear about me spending a day carving mother-of-pearl out of a gigas clam with a greatsword and a Traveler's Anytool. I had a lot of time to think, inside of that mouth of that clam, and I wonder if that Sea Hag had originally been from Outsea, and what it was trying to accomplish." There was no flourish or bow or sweeping gesture to accent the end of her tale, but she figured a little bit of mystery was a good place to end it.

The paladin kneels back down to her bag, drawing out the neatly folded magical cloak that had triggered the defenses of the Sea Hag's Hut and lead to her confrontation with the sentient skeleton guard within. Besides her and Teken, she figured no one else knew about that skeleton considering it was always left out of her story.

"Di, it just came to me, but considering our discussion I think this would make an appropraite Turning Day gift." Extending the Cloak of Human Guise to her sister, she smiles wryly at any balking from receiving lubber clothes of all things. What self-respecting Outsear would try to keep the rain off their skin?

"Try it on before you say anything." Rudabeh insists, hoping that maybe her sister could use it to visit their parents, at least.

Swimming towards the arenaa, Rudabeh listens to Sledlon with hungry interest about her brother's activities. At the mention of the Darkness, she spins, floating backwards to look at the elf. "You go into the Darkness regularly?" Gliding down an incline, Rudabeh twsits her body and even flaps her ears to turn gracefully around the corner, once more upright as they come upon the bubble. "I may have need of a guide familar with the Darkness soon, if you are interested. We can talk about it later." She says as they step through the air bubble and expel the water from their lungs like a trio of puking fountains.

The paladin spares a probing glance between RActus and the aquatic elf, taking note for a moment what it must feel like for Ractus in a city that treats the only langauge he can communicate in as "lubberspeak".

"Around the gills, Ractus?" She snorts at the joke, giving her head a wry shake that makes water fly from her oil, pulled-back hair. "Yes, this is my sister Dimi. She graciously led me to " A gesture at the still pondering elf, for whom she briefly wonders if he's still on the material plane, "Seldlon here, to give you some water-breathing for the swim topside."

"But." A punctional finger is elevated to stymie any celebration. "The price is a story about a sea hag and her pet gigas clams. I thought it would be better to share the story from both our persepctives."

Turning and stepping back some, Rudabeh starts the story while throwing her bag off her shoulder and onto the ground, lowering herself to crouch over it. "We were traveling north up the Sellen on a barge, headed for Outsea, when one of the sailors poled some very colorful paper from the water..."

The tale spills easily from her mouth, with no embellishment, starting from the moment the became aware of the gnome's doomsday prophecy. WHile she speaks she reaches into her bag, intending to fetch some fresh water and some food for Ractus. As her hand clasps around the bulging waterskin in the extradimensional space something else thick and smooth brushes her fingers- the cloak extracted from the sea hag's hut, the one that can bestow a human appearance. Perhaps it was a fluke of the bag, that the hag was on her mind from telling the story. It made the undine pause breifly, but she just used it as an opportunity to look over to Ractus, tossing him the waterskin.

Continuning the story to the dam and the meeting with the gnomes, she digs out some hard-tack, nuts, and cheeses for Ractus, with the cloak still hovering nearby in the magical space.

As the elf speaks, Rudabeh starts to feel like she is listening to someone more akin to a gnome. It occurs to her he would like the story about the sea hag and her pet clams very much, and perhaps she will be overpaying for this particular service.

"It was an "adaptive" ooze." She gets a few words in, stolen from Finn, when the elf slows down for a moment. If any further questions are put forward, Rudabeh raises her palms to ward in a show of ignorance about the subject.

A smile tugs at the edge of her lips "Yes, Ondev is my brother." She gestures at Dimi, glancing over. "I guess we all still take after da."

Distracted from further comment by the white object, she follows the patterns with her eyes until her stomach starts to swirl as well. "Drains your bladder, doesn't it?" She says reflexively, before pausing and reflecting on the translation into Taldan and how she would need to explain what a swim bladder was to a non-native aquan speaker, or a lubber.

"I hope to see him soon. What kind of work are you doing for him?" It was an innocent question, edged with a matronly hunger for knowledge about the life of her darling sibling.

With a wave towards the gaming area, she nods in agreement to his price. "Of course, but let's go to Ractus. Not only do I want to make sure he hasn't dried up, but he experienced parts of the story I did not and would be happy to tell it too."

Rudabeh twirls the stone between her fingers after Dimi swims away, the smooth edges expertly worn down by a jeweler's wheel or time in some river. I'm afraid this is a lost cause. She thinks out loud out of habit, and when no response comes she rememers once again her mind is alone. It didn't matter. Dimi has already done more for me than I could do for her. Perhaps it's time I should stop looking through the window and walk through the door.

The small aquamarine is slipped into a belt pouch by the time her sister returns. Rudabeh was willing to accept who Dimi had become and try to support her in a way that didn't raise her fins, if such a thing were possible.

"High tide, Seldlon." Rudabeh says formally and rspectfully to the eccentric aquatic elf, one hand touching the Iron Key at her breast. "My friend Ractus is non-aquatic elf, going up, currently trapped in the air bubble in the arena. As for payment...I have some mother-of-pearl from a freshwater gigas clam that was once the pet of a sea hag, but I think the story of how I came to obtain it may be just as interesting to you."

"I will." Rudabeh intones when her sister says to pass along a message to their parents. Though she wasn't sure if it was just going to make Daabi worry more or not. It was sad, but the paladin knew it was better if Dimi never followed up on the assertion.

Rudabeh looks somewhat confused at Dimi's fierce rebuttal of her gift. "Your sister can't give you a Turning Day gift...?" Giving her head a shake, she shrugs and starts to put the coins away. "I listened. Can you not see I'm trying to support you? It's not like I was giving you stipulations or making you sign a contract. Only the gods can make something from nothing, Dimi. Us mortals have to take somethings and make it into your own somethings." Even though there was more she wanted to say, Rudabeh felt it wise to leave out the hypocrsiy of Dimi wanting to "make her own way" and missing her parents, and instead unhooks her arm from the nearby stone to start floating off when Dimi suddenly turns.

Holding oneself still in the water was an impossible task for anyone without a swim bladder, and when her sister asks her about Vrasa with the concern in her eyes, Rudabeh does briefly sink as she freezes in thought.

"I don't know." She responds simply, fingers splaying as she twirls her hands to create some lift and maintain eye height with Dimi. Her oaths were clear she had to enforce the law, and if Vrasa was at the head of a smuggling operation... "I have been gone too long, I need to understand what is happening in Outsea before I decide what is best for myself, Outsea, and our family. I intend to work with the Council on that matter." Floating closer, not for secrey but for emphasis, Rudabeh continues. "Da is suffering, Di. Vrasa has choked him out of his livlihood." Her eyes flash briefly as cold, hard sapphires. "That, at least, I'm going to fix."

Face mellowing, she lifts a hand to gesture to herself. "Before you swim off in a puff, I would still appreciate your help finding a set of rental gills for Ractus. Please? I won't even pay you a finder's fee if you don't want me to!" Coming from anyone else it may have been mocking, but her last comment was actually sincere.

Rudabeh licks some of the pickled slime off of oyster before tipping her head back and gulping down the whole glob of meat. The pungent aftertaste was filled with nostalgia- whatever changes had come over Gargant's, she could tell the kitchen staff still used the same recipes and (for better or worse) still did a poor job cleaning.

Darting her eyes to the pouch, Rudabeh isn't sure what to expect. Dimi offering to pay? Some sort of trinket or memento? The set of stones confuses her, and the paladin cocks her head at her sister, ears unfurled and taut.

The change in subject causes her ears to fall slightly, and she blinks once, slowly, while trying to decide to press the issue or let it go.

"They're both Okay." Rudabeh answers, deciding to follow along with the change of subject. Seems stubbornness to talk about personal issues ran in the family. "Like I said, Da looks sick... or was sick, or something. I'm trying to ease his worries, if that's what's causing it. Daabi is the same as ever, though she misses you. I'll tell them I... checked up on you so they worry less."

As if following through, Rudabeh reaches for her own belt pouch, the weighty purse resisting her touch in the water. "I haven't seen Onii yet... I might need an appointment by the sound of it." She digs around in the purse by feel, metal clinking in muffled pitches. "I can't believe he has students. You have to wonder if they're actually being taught anything or if they just study his work and clean up the messes."

Pulling out some coins, Rudabeh forms a stack between her fingers and thrusts it towards Dimi. "This is for all the Turning Day presents I've missed while I was gone. I won't tell you what to spend it on, but...I'd appreciate it if you took care of yourself, please. This should keep you fed for a few weeks at least."

Rudabeh offers Dimi 5 gold pieces worth of coinage.

She frowns some, face slipping further into concern. "This is all I can do to help. My oaths require me to hold everyone accountable to the law, and if the guard comes for you... I cannot stop them. I also cannot get you out of your mandatory service while you're still in Outsea, but I can get you excused if you decide to travel with me. I know it's not what you want, but think about it, all right?"

"It can be if you try!" She calls to the gillman's retreating back. Maybe not her finest confession, but Rudabeh wasn't going to keep her sister waiting while a drunkard spills his life story in her ears and possibly the surrounding waters.

Swimming back to her sister with food in tow, the undine is struck by a sharp pang of pity at seeing just how hungry she was. Thank Alseta their mother wasn't here to see this, Daabi might be reduced to hysterics.

Still, it takes some sizable restraint to not reply "yes" when Dimi correctly assumes she believes her foolish. Watching her sister's bravado crack was sad, and at the end of it Rudabeh frowns and starts to open the kelp bag.

"I don't think you're a failure." She says evenly while carefully hanging the open bag on a small hook set in the ceiling between them. "How could you be a failure after just trying to live on your own for six months? Is a fisher that comes to the dock with an empty net on their first day out at sea a failure? I won't speak for Ondev. He's different than all of us, but I never "did my own thing" until the day I left Outsea."

Reaching towards the bag for an oyster, Rudabeh notices a red streak headed towards the bag in the corner of her vision.

dexterity: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

Without thought the undine turns her hand slightly, catching the scarlet tail-end of a firefish goby between her thumb and forefinger as it made a bold, singular charge at their food. "Things "worked out" for me not because I was particularly skilled, or talented, or blessed by the gods." The pale blue and purple front end of the goby trashes pitifully as she pulls it back towards her mouth. "It was because I wasn't alone. I had many people to rely upon and to teach me. Da, Finn, Urqat, the milita, and eventually I sought out the wisdom and blessing of Alseta." Sharp white teeth come down behind the fish's head in a quick snap; its body cleaved in half. Rudabeh sucks down the rest of the unlucky one inch long fish without chewing.

"Eventually I left on my own to truly "do my own thing"...because of the support of dozens of people. " Rudabeh starts reaching for an oyster again. There were no food bandits this time. "I don't understand why you think you have to do it all on your own. Or why you even want to, that seems so... impossibly difficult."

Rudabeh's response to Dimi's reveal that she had been called to service months ago was simple and held no surprise.

"Oh."

There is a long pause after her sister finishes the myriad of justifications and explanations about her current position, during which Rudabeh stares at her, seeming to expect... more, a better reason, something.

Opening her mouth to say something, she closes it, seems to start again, closes it, shifts around as if agitated, and finally sighs with a defeated air. "I'm going to go get our food, but I want to leave you something to think about in the meantime." The paladin leans forward, slanting her body diagonally in the water. "Silly laws and norms are what make places like Outsea safe and civilized. Not following those laws is how an entire region slides back to the "olden days". In any case, I want to hear these plans on making something of yourself when I get back."

At the bar, she watches Draavl rotate with a dangerous pitch in the water- a measure of instability that would ironically have a lubber flopping on the ground like a fish.

Frowning and looking back and forth between the bartender and the drunkard, Rudabeh firmly shakes her head. "Right now, I only work for Alseta."

Catching the kelp bag with one outstretched hand as it soars towards her, she looks skeptical about being rewarded with free food for destroying the fighting ring. "Thank you." That her wanton destruction was viewed in a positive light by at least one staff member let her know it wasn't just fear of Finn that kept her from getting kicked out of the establishment.

The second comment from the bartender was met with silence, though she reflected for a moment if it was possible for her to leave anything alone.

Bringing the bag in close to her chest, she looks over to Draavl with an judge's gaze. "It does. Inaction is its own form of action, Draavl. And doing nothing can be both the easiest and hardest actions we can take, regardless of our intentions. If you feel something happened that you could have prevented, do not forget it. Do not look away from the consequences. Learn from it, so next time you will be ready to take actions you can look back on with pride. Softening her eyes, she offers a hand to the gillman. "Do this and you will be forgiven by Alseta's grace now, as well as forgiven by yourself in the future."

Rudabeh shrugs at being accused of having a hero complex. "I like to help those in need, sure. Someone has to. And I like to be involved, to guide inevitable change. But a hero? I have killed people that didn't deserve it. Got others killed through my ignorance. I have failed as much as I have succeeded. That's not a hero, that's not what happens in the stories. I'm just following my oaths, and if they tell stories about me there will be just as many versions of me being a villian as a savior, and in the end that's the real truth."

"Stories..." She exhales deeply, some stray pockets of air escaping her lungs and making for the ceiling, where a small patch has formed from likewise amphibious exhalations. Staff would have to come by with a bladder and suck it up at closing every day, though maybe Gargant's had enough money now to install some proper air escapes.

"Well, on my way here, we came across this communal group of gnomes. They were obessed with a prophecy seen by their leader about the end times and were preparing for it. They had built a dam, can you believe it?" She goes on to describe how she brokered a deal to take down the dam, how her soldiers fought the giant clams and she fought an actual sea hag, stressing the fact that the stories were true. Rudabeh leaves out the skeleton- like Gezzerbiel, she felt it was merely better no one knew about it,

"...and that's how I saw a gnome get his soul sent to the abyss. A cautionary tale, certainly. Making deals with sea hags... if only they had grown up with our stories." She finishes up with a wave of her hand. "You might not be excited about crossbows, but it has to be better than tridents. Your mandatory service is coming up. You'll be getting that purple scallop shell from a courier the next time there's a recruitment drive, just like I did." The Council's official missives always came encased in specially bred, dark purple scallop shells, some tradition dating back to the founding truce between the merpeople and the sauhgin. Usually you didn't get to keep them, but the draft summons came engraved with your name and acted as proof of service.

"Unless you either come with me, or leave Outsea on your own. You know it's decades in the Reekworks for desertion."{/b] Rudabeh wasn't going to say she wasn't as special as Ondev to earn an exemption, but neither had Rudabeh been.

She smiles at Dimi's reaction to her asking after some gills for a friend. [b]"Oh, he's exciting. It's Ractus, my captain in the story. If he's not nearly getting himself killed he's saving my life or someone else's. I don't understand how he's lived to be older than both of us put together, but he has."

Moving off to get some food, Rudabeh weaves through the crowd with minimal shoving. It was loud, and it smelled, but the bar was like a dive in the lake after running drills in the summer heat compared to the dance room. At least some of the smells were food.

Rudabeh was also contemplating an order of twice-pickled oysters when she was addressed by a very drunken voice. Preparing for the worst, she turns around with a skeptical look on her face, only to be met with the top of a gillman's head.

"Uh..." It was confusing, switching from trying to think of how to politely tell off drunken advances, to correcting his misconceptions, to trying to decide if she has time for a confession.

The server behind her provides some helpful context, and she doesn't break eye contact. "Actually, I'd like two ink shrimp bags and a clutch of twice-pickled oysters." There was no way she was going to miss an oppotunity to order some food.

Turning her attention back to Draavl, the paladin smiles lightly, the motion reaching up to her eyes. "I'm not a druid, but I am blessed by Alseta and have taken an oath to adhear to the sacred seal of confessions. You may unburden your soul to me without fear of judgement or reprisal." It was a route statement, but one she took seriously. Rudabeh leans forwward, ignoring the alcohol on the man's breath. "Though I do have to get back to my sister soon, so I do not have time for a full ceremony. If you want to whisper in my ear while I wait for our food, I will hear your burdens..." Just to make it official, she takes her Iron Key in hand, the warm metal strangely feeling the same temperature as ever despite being surrounded by the cold sea water.

Rudabeh scoffs when Dimi says she isn't sick. "Hmm. Fine, you can both keep your secrets, but if you are sick I may be able to heal you." She waves a hand, causing a nearby school of very brave and daring small fry to freak out and head further towards the ceiling.

"What?" Rudabeh says in response to Dimi's mixture of passive-aggressiveness and self-deprication, looking confused. "I don't want anything." She twsits her hands and legs into an open, disarming gesture while floating. "You're my sister. My family. My blood. You're important to me. I don't need any other reason to want to see you or help you."

Shrugging, Rudabeh smiles sheepsihly. "Well, after pa told me you were down here hustling I had a lecture all ready to go about how you should be finding better work, but..." She sighs and shrugs again. "You're almost an adult. You can make your own choices now, even if I disapprove." The skeleton at the bottom of the lake comes to mind- she told it to make its own choices too. Was that, and this, a bad decision? "I made some poor choices when I was your age too, I'm not perfect. We all make them, I mean there are still stories pa won't tell us about Catokerp. If some of your choices end up being mistakes I just hope you learn from them instead of giving up on the world because choices come with consequences."

Beginning to shake her head, her ears create a current that causes the nearby flora to sway gently. "Sorry, I guess I still lectured you. Bad habit of mine."

Listening to Dimi about her falling out, Rudabeh cocks her head slightly at the name. "The Drift? Is that Vrasa's group, or associated witth them?" A roll of her shoulders, and she considers an offer. "If you're looking for work, I have a company of soldiers that could always use more hands. You wouldn't fight, of course, but if you wanted to travel, see some interesting things, and get out of your mandatory military service you could do worse than being on my payroll and scrubbing linens." Rudabeh wasn't expecting her sister to take her up on what was clearly hard and potentially dangerous work. but..."I could even teach you how to use a crossbow if you want!"

Looking towards the bar, she smoothly disconnects her arm from the jutting stone. "Falling out? Tell me when I come back with food." Rudabeh turns around, falling backwards. "Oh, and think about if you know anyone here that rents gills." A swift twirl of her hands keeps her stationary a moment longer. "I have a lubber friend stuck in the arena bubble. I'd prefer him not drowned." Then, she turns and floats off to tbe bar to order two Ink Shrimp bags.

Rudabeh wants to tell Dimi that neither taxes nor time have any hope of solving her myriad of nigh-incomprehensible problems, but even in this chaotic place Alseta's influence causes her to say notihng and Turn the Mask.

The two make their way through the swirling mass of life and beating drums, and Rudabeh feels the anxiety drain away as they pass the flimsy beaded curtain and into the relative quiet of the rowdy bar. Drifting into a concave nook a level above the "ground" seating back-first, the undine reaches out and grabs a nearby polished coral handle to stabilize, holding position with only the slightest movements of her feet. "Da told me where you were, but I wanted to see you." She responds plainly before furrowing her brow.

"Fine? Both you and him look like you've eaten a batch of bad shellfish. He wouldn't talk about it, but were you both sick?" Green was a normal color for some undines, sure, but not for anyone in their family... Rthough udabeh only looked slightly better considering she had been in a obviously recent fight and one side of her face was starting to bruise.

"Daabi looks physically fine, but she's worried sick about you. I know she's like loving a cloud and frankly she could have showed this level of concern when we were younger, but she is hurt. Pa said you left because you disagreed with him dropping Vrasa's patronage, but I wanted to hear your side of the story."

Rudabeh sighs and looks out at the bar, trying to see if there was a server even acknowleding their presence as she speaks. "You still like Ink Shrimp bags?" It used to be Dimi's absolute favorite- tiny shrimp marinated in salty viscous black squid ink had been a constant demand from the young girl and Rudabeh had treated her countless times.

There were many ways to prepare Ink Shrimp depending on how fancy the chef wanted to get, but a cheaper place like Gargant's used to fill bladders full of shrimp then squirt the squid ink inside. You either put your mouth on the opening and let the shrimp that hadn't suffocated in the ink swim into your mouth, or sucked the entire mixture down. At some of the more expensive establishments Black Shrimp bags were made from de-tentcled jellyfish globes sewn together on one side and you could just eat the whole thing by popping it in your mouth.

She vividly recalled Gargant's was infamous for not washing the bladders very often, giving it a... unique flavor. Surely that hadn't changed.

Rudabeh does not flinch from the snarling toughs, her face still fixed with interest at her initial recognition. Jem and Eraz. If they were capable of cleaning up, or following orders, they'd make fine additions to the Company. Even as her thoughts wander to how hard it was to find capable, honest, oath-swearing soldiers in this swamp of chaos, it became obvious they were not taking very good care of themselves after a rudimentary inspection.

Whatever they were abusing, Rudabeh did not recognize its effects, and hoped those two were an isolated incident. There was already too much on her plate to go chasing down drug peddlers.

Nothing is said as the two leave, and she doesn't even turn her head when they disappear into the crowd. "Di, you sound like a lubber, worried about time." Rudabeh responds to her sister's complaints with a wave of her hand. "What's two months if you live to be five-hundred?" A glance at her sister's nubile yet sickly form and a look of concern crosses her face as she wonders if Dimi was going to make it to one-hundred. Her father had looked similar... was there a disease outbreak he failed to mention?

"No, I'm your sister, and I was looking for you." She says sharper than she meant to, having to yell over the pounding music. "Honestly I didn't know they were talking to you, all I saw was a pair of mongers trying to decide where to start gutting a strung-up marlin and I wanted it to stop!"

She makes a pained face, ears folded back, then thumbs towards the exit. "This place is giving me a headache. I haven't seen you in a decade. I'm tired of yelling and I want to talk to you. Come on, I'll buy us something to eat."

Rudabeh circles the writhing mass of Outsears with the air of a shark, albiet one with incredibly specific tastes that seems to be getting sicker by the minute. How did she ever think this chaotic waste of time was fun? Was it the carelessness of youth that drew her, or had a decade of travel that aged her beyond such trivalities? Perhaps a divine alignment to the universal energies of Law simply made such a high concentration of Chaos anethema.

The paladin had plenty of time to think about such things, growing more frustrated with every pass. She is about to leave to find Ractus some gills and ask for his help when she finally sees her sister's pale face for the briefest instant.

Surging forward into the crowd, she twists, dives, flips, and one point darts between a ring of three circling merpersons to get closer. When a clear gap opens she is about to slip through, but stops, causing the gap to disappear and a few bodies to run into her.

Drifting aimlessly with the momentmum of the push, Rudabeh blinks, trying to process what she just witnessed. Dimi was... not well. Pa said she was hustling... not... baiting hooks. Briefly, anger flares up inside of her. Rudabeh expected her sister to be gambling, running scams, hanging out with dashing rogues and keeping the guard from getting bored. Something Rudabeh could scold her for, but at least know she was building character and staying fed with the hope that she'd get caught; a year or so of forced labor at The Reekworks had turned many a life around.

But whoring? She could have at least joined the church of Calistria! That was respectful, holy work!

Catching sight of her sister again; the desperation, the pale tone of her skin and the sight of her ribs...

Her anger fades away to pity.

The paladin stows her emotions somewhere, for later, and catches the current off of a twirling triton to send her towards Dimi. In a few seconds Rudabeh lands feet-first behind the two toughs staring at Dimi.

"Pardon me, gentlemen! Coming through!" She says loudly, nearly yelling in one of their fanned ears. When they turn, she focuses on one, brow furrowing. He looked familiar, though it would only be the grace of Alseta if she recalled every face she pulled from a fight and tossed in the drunk tank during her milita service.

"Oh, I think we've met before. It's been a few tides, hasn't it? You're..."

knowledge:local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Rudabeh sighs as the water envelopes he, sending a cascade of large bubbles out of mouth and towards the ceiling of the hallway. They quickly hit the ceiling and start to slide towards the larger, magical bubble behind her as she swims away.

To most, salt water in their wounds is a horrible affair, causing wracking pain and misery. She had seen hurt sailors inventing entirely new langauges composed completely of curses many times in her youth. But to the undine it was a soothing balm, and Outsea's waters and the aquatic magic embedded deep in her soul seem to leech the pain from her chest and let her breathe easier.

Rudabeh regains 14 hp from hydrated vitality.

By the time she had reached the bar there was much more vim in her swim tham before, and even Finn's absence couldn't disappoint her. Noting she wasn't going to get any more information out of the staff, Rudabeh resigns to find her sister, swimming towards the rhymtically thumping room past the pair of drunken tritons arguing over the best way to tie a slip knot. Faces coalesce in the half-lit gloom and her darkvision, one or two she recognizes here and there. Later, maybe, would be time for old aquantices.

Unburdened by her armor, the undine nimbly coasts into the hallway, barely touching the wall as she re-directs towards the feeble bead curtain ahead. Already the smells tickle her nostrils, and her ears fold back into thin salts at the noise. Finding her sister, if she was even here, was going to be like hunting a tagged sardine in a school...

The wall of aquatic bodies, the sound, the smells, is like being sucked into an undertow. Briefly, Rudabeh is swept away by the raw emotion, carnal desire, and the resonance within her soul. Her eyes flutter, she shivers from the brush of flesh, and she is reminded of Danglosa's call, its promises and its allure...

Jerking out of the fugue state with a spasm that might be mistaken for part of a dance, the paladin reminds herself she was not here to relax or go pearl hunting with someone. She swore an oath to put duty about comfort and pleasure, and right now finding her sister was her duty.

Setting her jaw and pushing away a mighty friendly merman, she writhes and wiggles her way through the undulating crowd to find a wall, fingers touching the cool stone and using it as a guide. Starting to canvas the area from the outside in, Rudabeh makes awkward eye contact with more than one undine in the crowd as she tries to pierce the cacophany of sound and smells for her kin.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

Rudabeh grimmaces at Ractus' casual, and hopefully accidental, slur. "Don't... call anyone here fish people. Or fish. Fish are food, not friends." The paladin just sighs and rolls her eyes at his use of their funds, but decides she doesn't have the energy to chastise him about it right now.

"Well, worst case scenario is you take a ride in my bag of holding." She says with a grin. It was an empty threat. Her armor was already taking up a lot of space and she would have to empty out the entire bag just to fit Ractus inside- he was a big man. "I'll ask Finn where she gets her gills. Maybe she can get us a discount."

"His name is Gig. Well..." Rudabeh's expression turns sheepish. "That's the name I gave him. I don't think he understood the concept of names." Looking down, then to the side, she considers Gig's chances of surviving the Darkness. "I don't know. He's not trained in any weapon or armor. He might just get eaten, immediately." After making the comment to Finn about sending children to die in kobold dens, could she really put Gig's life at risk on her wn journey?

"Thanks." She gives Ractus a wave before making to leave. "Let's not get into any more fights today, all right?"

Not that Rudabeh had anything to fight with- how could Finn run off with her spear and leave her defenseless after all those lectures on always being ready to protect yourself?

"Nails?" Rudabeh makes a strange face. "Must have been a lubber, maybe one of the humans working for Finn. Most Outsears call nails "brown fishbones" considering how brittle they get." Ractus' expression makes her elaborate. "Iron doesn't last very long here. The salt eats it."

She sits with the elf as she is assisted with her armor. "Oh, good..." Is her response when her name wasn't used in her advertisements. Rudabeh thinks she should really give Ractus more credit, he does seem to know what she wants. "But then how did Finn know you were with me? Maybe she just... guessed, if she knew I was here with a company. Her intuition has always been astounding. Though," She turns to look at Ractus, inspecting his neck for gills or some sort of magical trinket. "I meant physically, how did you get here? Did you rent some gills?" Every magic shop or oracle in Outsea had a side business selling lubbers temporary water breathing. Briefly, the undine wonders what would happen if everyone could breathe Outsea's waters. Would understanding bloom, or would the humans merely move into the Shallows too?

dungeoneering: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

"Hmm, the Darklands... Not my territory, but they'll certainly want that patched up before they flood it. Imagine if the water suddenly drained away without warning, no way to breathe or swim to other water. A horrible, suffocating fate." A quizzical look passes her features as she reflects on the dero. "Are those the blue, underground fey?" Rudbahe considers saying she has some experience hunting fey and would help, but she recalls her recent re-dedication to diplomacy and peace; so she waves a hand. "Yes, good work. I can bring it up with General Derbacam if he meets with me."

"You're right about the armor. I just need a dent taken out, but maybe that isn't even possible with a normal hammer. Alseta has not blessed me with a Mending spell, but if you could find someone that repairs magic items I will pay for their services." Gezzerbiel would never forgive her if some journeyman with a hammer ruined his masterpiece. Best to leave it to the professionals. Preferably one that accepts pearls as payment.

"I was considering Litta and three others to guard my parent's house." She thinks out loud, nodding slowly to her captain's ideas. "There was a pair of thugs outside their house, waiting for him to leave when I went to visit. They ran when they saw me coming, so... legbreakers. Pa wants them discreet. He's working on arranging the sale of our clam shells and pearls, if anyone complains about giving out free services. The safer he can work the sooner they get paid, but I want guards there until I have an agreement with the Tallies to leave him alone."

Rudabeh chuckles when Ractus asks about how deep the Darkness could be. "Some here will say it's bottomless, but it's not, if you don't count the caves and tunnels. I have only been there a few times. They were the largest operations I took part in during my army service here. Multiple platoons, usually with a volunteer General at the head, to catch some dangerous criminal or kill a rogue predator or escort engineers to plug a leak... all around you is a cold envelope of darkness, with only a glowing jellyfish in a jar around your belt to mark your companions in a crushing blanket of cold blackness. We were proud to lose very few on those missions, but more than once someone would turn around and a light that was there a moment ago would just be... gone. Or worse, there would be new lights, following ours, vanishing as we ascended." Her brow furrows as she recalls the harrowing feeling of knowing that during the descent you wouldn't know who made it through until you saw sunlight again. "The headcount after ascending was always the worst." She looks to Ractus, and smiles wearily. "There are beautiful, terrifying things down there, things no one sees anywhere else besides the deepest trenches of the real sea. One of those things is Dangolsa, and no one can find them without being summoned." A dry laugh escapes her, shoulder falling backwards as she looks up in prayer. "I guess the hardest part has been solved for me."

Rudabeh gets up when Ractus says Finn has her spear, and starts walking towards the exit of the damaged arena. "Dimi is the youngest. About.. two decades younger than me." The undine puffs out her cheeks, and makes an aggrevated popping sound. "She doesn't listen. And when she does, she's a contrarian. Always in trouble. We weren't very close anymore when I started traveling. Apparently she recently ran away from home to school with Vrasa's crew and has been hustling here to survive. I pray to Alseta she's grown up in the past ten years, but from what my Pa said... well, I've asked Alseta for enough miracles today. I'm going to hear her out and hope I don't end up breaking my oaths."

Tumbling out of the hole just makes Rudabeh wish she had found some other way to carry her breastplate- the mis-fitted armor digs into her chest in all the wrong places, aggrevating her ribs and making her wheeze on the floor.

She struggles upright as Ractus walks over, dropping her bag and pulling her breastplate over her head. "I heard a scream from up here. Everything all right?" Given it was just the two of them the question seemed answered, but it seemed worth asking.

Rudabeh is reaching for the straps on her gauntlets when Ractus grabs her arm, and she pauses to look up at him. "You're welcome, and I"m glad you're all right." She begins sincerely, before looking a bit more stern. "You were wise not to tell me this was your plan to look for work. Did you use my name in your advertisement? I'm trying to maintain a reputation as a neutral party with the Pact, not a blade-for-hire."

She sighs through her nose, reversing the grip on her arm to grab his. Light flows from her fingers and into Ractus. "Yes, I know those can be the same thing, but I'd like for us to be known more for peacekeeping rather than peaceforcing."

Ractus lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 5) = 7

Dropping her hold, she begins stripping off her armor piece by piece and placing it within her bag. "Finn taught me many things, and others I learned on my own. I know for certain I don't want her life, and I'd probably already be dead if I tried to emulate her." Pauldrons are shaken free of water, wiped down, and stuffed into her bag with more force than needed.

"Oh?" She responds about the ooze, looking up inquisitively. "Maybe it was supposed to eat that big sahaugin you fought. I agree though, if Finn catches the one that loosed it they'll be wish they had not." Is her only thought at the moment, but she doesn't speculate further. With Ractus safe, it wasn't her business.

Shaking down her stained and patched gambeson, she flips it over a few times. No blood. The ooze hit her so hard all her injuries must have been internal. She wondered if, without her breasplate, the ooze would have just punched her heart out of her chest. Maybe Gorum would have gotten a chuckle out of that.

"Sleep?" The undine made it sound like this was another chore at the end of a long list. "I still need to find my sister here." She raises a finger, the cerulean digit capped with a trimmed, aquamarine nail. "Arrange a meeting with General Derbacam to speak and sell the mother-of-pearl we collected..." Another finger lifts, and she catches a bit of confusion on Ractus' face. "He's the undine representative on the Council, and there's a contract out for mother-of-pearl we could fufill. Seems like a good excuse to talk with him, maybe negociate some room and board for our soldiers. Speaking of whom, I also need to assign some guards to my family's home because the Tallies, a human gang, are harassing my father." Finger lifts. "Actually locate one of the Tallies leaders so I can get them to stop bothering my father and hopefully arrange a mediation between them and Vrasa, who by the way owns this establishment and is also harassing my father, to prevent some sort of conflict Finn has been called in to settle." Finger. "Find a metal-and-leather armorer in this coral-and-scale town to fix my busted breastplate..." She has a whole hand open now. "...and get supplies for a solitary journey into the darkest, most dangerous depths of Outsea BECAUSE..."

Rudabeh had already lifted her index finger on her other hand to illustrate the sixth task, and she points it down into the hole. The edge of her mouth twitches briefly as she relives the humiliating way she acted after the call, and she draws a deep breath that turns into a bent-over racking cough. Placing her hand to her chest, she tries to still the wet hacking.

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 1) = 5 Alseta plz

The coughing stopped, and some of the pain faded, giving her a moment to think about what she was about to say. She had probably been talking too loud before, out of frustration, but it wasn't anything she was trying to hide. This, however, was sensitive. Flexing her hand a few times, Rudabeh looks around at the empty arena before stepping closer to Ractus and speaking quietly. "While I was in the cave alone, Danglosa summoned me. I don't know what they want. I don't know why they called me, but it is not something an Outsear ignores. I... don't know if I can ignore it for long. Danglosa can easily take over minds and lure people to its home deep within the Darkness, and the fact I was given a choice for now means..."

She throws up her hands, agitated. "I don't know what it means. Danglosa doesn't even take interest in their own seers. I never, in my entire life, intended to deal with Danglosa. But I'm going." Looking Ractus in the eye, her irises bright sapphires set with the deep void of her pupils. "Please, do not tell anyone about this. I don't want to be worshipped, or lead Outsears to believe I speak for Danglosa. It's like...I think what this is about..." She swallows, trying not to recall the exact memory. "...what happened to us after our fall off the Grand Palace's wall in Pitax. The visions. That has to be it, right?"

Rudabeh steps away from Ractus, now down to her well-worn blouse and breeches. "So... sleep is far down the list." She bends over to pick up her bag, throwing it over her shoulder and looking around. "Did Finn run off with my spear?" She sighs and shakes her head. "Well, let's go. I wanted to ask around about my sister." A probbing, confused glance is directed at Ractus. "How did you get down here anyway?"

Slumping as the energy fades from her body, Rudabeh's splashing adruptly stops when she realizes nothing was happening. Shame and embarassment flow into the void left by the divine exhilaration. Had she not just tod her goddess she was going to forsake the thrill of exertion, cast off the mantle of warrior and embrace a more enlightened and diplomatic approach to life?

Then she was immediately chasing after some surge of primal power like a shark smelling blood.

The undine's hand curls into a fist and she gives the puddle a frusrated punch that just scuffs the stone and makes her knuckles hurt. What does Danglosa want with this mess? To speak?

Rudabeh was on her hands and knees staring at the stone trying to recall the last time this had happened to anyone outside of becoming the yearly snack when the voice calls down from above.

"Just a minute!" She calls back, waerily getting up off the ground. THe sound just seems to come back at her, and she wasn't sure if they even heard her.

Between the echo of the cave and her own shifting metal, Rudabeh almost misses the soft scream. She stops moving, ears unfurling and straining against the sudden silence.

When there is nothing for a beat Rudabeh furrows her brow, rushing over to her discarded and damaged breastplate. Lifting it up, she puts her head through the side, straps hanging from her shoulders. There was a quick glance around for her bag, but she soon abandons the search. If Ractus didn't find it or her dagger, it probably wasn't in the cave.

Looking like a comedy act, the sideways-armored paladin hustles to the rope, grabbing it and pulling it taut.

"I'm ready!" She calls up, but if there was no response or movement for a few seconds she would start to climb the rope herself.

Rudabeh stills mid sit-up as the feeling grows in her gut. The identification of the what was quick, but as soon as she closed her eyes and waited for some sort of divine message from her goddess she knew something was different.

The throbbing begins, and with a panicked shudder of breath the paladin recognizes it. The same feeling she had experienced when the three gods gave her the vision of the world that felt it was going to sunder her soul. Somewhere, an intangible part of her resonates. Power approached and directed its attention onto her. The line tightens, the hook is set, and all Rudabeh can do it sit against the cave wall as darkness falls, open-mouthed and dumbfounded like a surprised grouper.

Danglosa's call intensifies, flooding her psyche with feelings. The resolute dam of her mind that kept her emotions in check was but a pitiful pebble attempting to stop a 200 foot rogue wave.

Rudabeh felt everything, raw and unfiltered.

Her fingers scrape the cavern floor, boots scuffling the surface with twitches and small movements that are coupled with gasps and tiny breathes of exhilaration.

A starving beast sinks its teeth into the gut of its prey. That same prey feels the teeth sink into its gut. The euphoria shocks her like a first kiss, and the passion makes her want to weep.

Eyes fluttering at the movement in the darkness, the undine tries to focus, finding only one thing to see. The roiling, glowing water calls to her, and already she is lifting a hand to reach out towards it when the water falls flat.

The light was extinguished, but it still burned bright in her mind. Without thought she shes pushes herself forward quickly, loudly scrambling on her hands and knees towards the still puddle; the pain in her chest unheeded and forgotten.

Alseta was the only divine power she knew- so warm, so wise, so understanding and comforting. But Danglosa was maddeningly different- primal and powerful and resonating with the part of her soul bound to the endless seas of another plane. She had never felt so alive, even after a hard battle or a meal after days of hunger or diving into the frigid Twilight on the hottest summer days.

Journey across the floor complete, her hands touch the puddle and soaks through her gloves. She repeats the motion, splashing the water again and again on the floor, desperately trying to make some sort of contact, to sustain the gradually fading thrum of power running through her body.

Rudabeh says nothing else as the others leave, though she turns her head to watch them go. Soon, she is left with nothing more than the still air of the cave and the slight crackling of the holy flames covering her gauntlets.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tries to focus on making the new, most prevalent pain go away- the pounding in her head, the result from her head being pounded into a wall. It wasn't doing any good, and she opens her eyes to stare at the wall, skull feeling like the cave she had voluntarily sequestered herself. Millions of pounds of pressure on the outside, empty on the inside.

Without moving her neck, she gropes for her Iron Key, immediately finding it at her fingertips. With a simple motion she bends her arm, fist and key both landing on her sadly loosened breastplate with a solitary clang. Though flames envelope the key and its copper chain, she only feels its familiar worth through the thin leather of her gloves and nothing scorches the fastidiously maintained symbol. In her faith, Rudabeh seeks understanding and comfort.

Alseta, my goddess. Rudabeh begins, the pain in her head making the usual reverent language she prefers to pray in difficult to formulate. Through Veleda and Your own actions you have made it clear I am to serve some important purpose in the future. I should not question your wisdom in this decision, yet I do. Perhaps it was not your decision at all. I can only hope so, because I do not understand why you would choose someone that nearly gets herself killed once a month. Such risks did not bother me. To die in your service was always my goal, I had only hoped to first do enough of your will in the world so my soul would earn passage through the Argent Gates. But now I seem to be important. People tell me to be careful. They say others depend on me, that I am the crux of organizations and prophecies. To acknowledge this I would have to forsake the humility you teach, that I embrace, and stop putting myself in danger to carry out my duty. I refused, because I thought my skills, equipment, and your blessings would allow me to overcome any chaos or foe I would face.

The paladin chuckles briefly, wincing and jerking forward as her ribs shoot lightning bolts of pain through her chest. At least it made her head hurt less. What arrogance! I thought I was being humble by treating myself as any other, but I was polishing my scales and inflating my skills so I did not have to change. So I could enjoy the pleasure of exertion, the burning of my muscles, the thrill of the struggle to survive. It was selfish, I see that now. To listen to those wiser to me... that is humility. To change for the greater good... that is the path to stability.

She starts to sit up more, shifting back and forth in a rattle of steel. There are creatures that do not listen to reason. Those that cause chaos for the sake of destruction. I will still smite them in your name. I will not shy from that fight. But I will no longer parade around in my ostentatious armor as I have done, and draw my sword only as a last resort.

Her left hand starts to pull at the sides of her loosened breastplate, opening up the shell to expose her saltwater-infused gambeson beneath. Half armored, she starts to stand, still clutching her holy symbol. I have walked the path of the warrior too long. Thought too much of myself. I have already gained the strength to put force behind diplomacy, and to pursue it further is self-aggrandizing and contradictory to Your teachings. Let others fight for causes and for the sake of fighting. They are better at it, and I put myself at the needless risk You and other have warned me against. Here, in Outsea, I must switch my mask and become the Diplomat you have inspired so many others to be.

Though she stood unsteady, Rudabeh stood, and let her holy symbol drop. Her hands move up to her helmet, and she quickly removes it. The cool air on her face is refreshing, and she yearns badly for a cup of cold, clear spring water.

Half-armored the undine starts to amble about the chamber, searching for her bag of holding by the flickering light of her hands, moving forward one step at a time.

Rudabeh sucks in a breath when Ractus finishes speaking to her, wincing as her breastplate stabs into her barely uniform ribs.

"I'm..." She wanted to say fine but that would be a lie. Rudabeh knew she was not fine. Physically, she could deal with the familar pain and Alseta would see to her wounds. Emotionally, a turbulent sea rages against the impervious dam of control her heritage affords her and nothing would get through. Mentally, though, something had been jarred loose; she felt like a beaten seahorse after losing a race. In front of its seahorse mentor and its seahorse friends at the big, unmissable seahorse event.

"...going to live." She does not take the offered help with her burning hands for fear of hurting Ractus, but does roll slightly away from him to expose her back. "Loosen my breastplate... please. Hard to... breathe."

Sorry Seqhi. Is all the thought she spares for the ifrit soul if their connection is distrupted by the adjustment of her armor. Who

When the straps are loosened or removed and her breasplate sags off of her body Rudabeh takes a deep, desperate breath, lifting her visor and blinking rapidly at the approaching, victorious Finn. With the spear slung over her shoulder the half-elf reminded her out of an actor out of a play, the hero emerging from an easy, forseen victory at the climax.

"I'll live." Rudabeh croaks before painfully clearing her throat and continuing and meekly lifting her flaming gauntlets up. "I'm going to need a few minutes for the blessing to wear off. I don't want to burn through the rope."

Without a change in expression she continues, hands falling to the floor and head tilting backwards to gaze at the ceiling. "Go on ahead. I need to find my bag."

Leaning against the cave wall in a heap, Rudabeh imaged everyone going up the ramp, the welcome silence it would bring...

"So it can shoot fire..." Rudabeh murmurs to herself, realizing that it's actually her fault this ooze is now even more dangerous.

"It doesn't have eyes!" Is her succint rebuttal to Finn's theory on the ooze's attraction to her metal-clad exterior. Her oaths prevented her from arguing about the magnitude of her shininess, though- the cave walls weren't just glittering from the millenial of salt.

I see no aura of chaos. Are her thoughts to Seqhi as she comments on her fascination. In my experience abberitions are chatoic, this must be just a strange product of nature. What words of wisdom would Veleda have about the ruggedness of nature at this moment?

Perhaps thoughts of her mistress, in her power, wisdom, and her grace, was too comforting in the moment. A lapse in concentration was only recognized when she was on the floor, barely remembering that zipping tendril that smashed her in the chest.

Struggling for breath and blearly from the pain, Rudabeh briefly writhes on the ground as the fire then overtakes her, flaming fingers raking against the stone and leaving a small line of steam in their wake. Like the cave, her chest felt like a wet void, and as hard as she tried she could not draw little more than small, panicked breaths.

Wide, bug eyes behind her visor watch Finn flash between forms like a dancer. Maybe a lesser pain would be forgotten in awe of the moment, but there was nothing to surpress the void in her chest and scorching in her skin.

At Finn's instruction, thoughtless instinct made her flip onto her knees and elbows, and Rudabeh crawls a half-step before raggedly vaulting up to her feet so quickly it made the undine want to puke.

With something that went beyond presence of mind she wordlessly drops her partially scorched spear on the ground by Finn as she stumbles by, providing her with another weapon against the adaptive ooze.

Stumbling and staggering towards Ractus, she leans too far forward and feels something stab into her abdomen. She only manages a pitiful wheeze but her entire body jerks from the pain; Rudabeh collapses forward, hands outstretched enough to stop her fall and cause her to land on her side.

Out of Finn's way and from in relative safety, she blinding gropes at her chest to find the find the inch deep fist-sized dent in her breastplate, and channels the power of Alseta into it.

Gasping like a drowning human she feels her lung reinflate and her ribs shunt back in place, painfully pushing her flesh back into the dent in her armor. Rolling onto her back and dragging herself upright, she watches Finn rhymetically slice away chunks of the ooze.

There was her mentor, dressed simply, using a simple blade, confident and quiet, while Rudabeh laid on the ground nearly dying in ostentious, priceless armor. She was ashamed. Finn seemed more a warrior that represented Alseta's values than Rudabeh did.

What am I doing? Is the only thought that surfaces as her head clears from fleeing the fight, panic succumbing to humiliation. Why did I even get involved? This is Finn's job, this is adventurer work. She could have saved Ractus. I jumped in and destroyed the arena. All I did was spread Chaos, I keep spreading Chaos, like in Pitax.

Her gloved fingers run over the large dent in her armor, flames causing the surface to reflect a beam of light onto the ceiling of the cave. I shouldn't even be doing my duty like this. Walking around like a Hellknight, threatening peace through strength. What was I thinking? This isn't Alseta's way.

Her chest moves in quick, shallow breaths to avoid fully expending into the dent in her breastplate. Behind her slatted visor her usually white scelera are reddened from pain and tears.

Full-round action: Withdraw towards Ractus.

Free action: Drop spear near Finn.

Swift action:Self lay on hands

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 1) = 10

Rudabeh lets out a surprised and frustrated growl when she stabs the ooze and feels her elbows buckle at her attempted follow-through. It was as blubbery as a whale's flank just a moment ago!

She starts to back away, briefly turning her head to look at the slope as the rolling sound reaches a crescendo.

"It was a barrel!" Rudabeh cries in surprise at what she suspected was some sort of divine intervention for her earlier prayer to have a weapon, any weapon.

Alseta didn't just send her a mess of giant's utensils, though, but a chef of the deadly arts- Finn makes an entrance that would make a bard swoon, and the paladin is so taken aback by the sudden display of athleticism she gets smacked by the unfriendly ooze.

Grunting and staggering backwards, she changes her grip on her slowly roasting spear and calls back to Finn.

intellignece: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

"What do you mean adapative? It can swim?" She recalls the strange red glint in the ooze when it was burned earlier. "Shoot fire?!"

Regardless, she wasn't about to cross the room and lead the creature to the group of people on the other side of the cave. Taking a few steps around the circumference of the ooze to give Finn space and a "back" to attack, the paladin continues to dissaude the ooze from its single-minded pursuit of eating her.

"It's obessed with me for some reason!" Rudabeh informs Finn between heavy breaths of exertion, followed by some coughing as smoke from her smoldering spear get caught inside of her helmet with no way to escape.

5 foot step around ooze, away from group

Full-round action: Full attack on ooze.

spear attack 1:: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

damage 1, piercing:: 1d6 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

spear attack 2:: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

damage 2, piercing:: 1d6 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Rudabeh isn't about to apologize for moving, nor did she have any intention of stopping her half side-step half-back pedal half-jog away from the ooze.

Until she met a jagged cave wall.

Turning around to face the ooze as it squishes towards her, she sees Ractus move amongst the cast shadows, hefting a long object before throwing it.

"Yes! Thank you!" The undine shouts in exhilaration when her spear sinks deeply into the side of the smooth, metallic mass trying to kill her.

Eyes fixated on the slowly rotating shaft dug into the ooze, Rudabeh touches her Iron Key at her side, willing her bevor up and visor down. Metal snaps into place over her face, and she changes tactics- sprinting towards the ooze and closing the distance in a few steps.

Flaming hands reach out and grab the spear, encircling the shaft and yanking it free. She stumbles backwards briefly, arms flailing and casting revolving shadows about the cave, before finding her footing and putting both hands on her spear.

She can already smell the varnish on the darkwood haft start to burn under her flaming grip, assaulting her nose with an acrid scent. If she kept adjusting her hands maybe she wouldn't burn through the magical wood, but she feared her spear would never be the same.

Instead, she takes a step forward, lunging and extending her torso to jab at the ooze's side, trying to put another hole it in. There was little noise besides her own breathing and clanging within her helmet, but she could still pick up sounds of a far-off metal.

"What is that noise above us?" Rudabeh asks of Ractus, voice more calm and measured as she carefully watches the ooze for impending tendrils. "Sounds like a barrel of cutlery is rolling our way."

Move action: Retrieve spear

Standard action: Attack ooze

spear attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17

damage, piercing: 1d6 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Rudabeh gets an up-close look at the brilliantly shimmering cavern walls when she is smashed into one by an ooze tendril. Chunks of salt thicker than a Numerian blanket split and bust off of the wall, falling to the floor and unceremoniously disintegrating after untold millenia of peace.

Rolling with the blow, Rudabe's metal pauldrons leave a trail of imprints in the wall as she makes a full circle. Using her elbows to come to a stop once she was facing the ooze she pushes off the wall, taking a step forward and raising her flaming fist.

With a frustrated yell that echos throughout the cavern she swings her fist at the ooze's mass. She hoped that like that sharks and other animals she has fought, if she hurt it a little maybe it would back off.

Pulling back her hand and quickly backpedaling along the cavern wall, she shouts to Ractus- "Anything?!" The ooze's dark shadow shrinks from engulfing the room to stretching out away from her, giving Rctus light and a line to throw her anything he finds.

She calls upon a burst of positive energy from her goddess to end the ringing in her head. Finn is coming. Just keep it together. Rudabeh thinks to herself. Finn would know how to kill it.

Swift Action:Self lay on hands

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 4) = 13

Standard action: Unarmed strike on ooze

unarmed attack 1: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

unarmed damage 1, fire: 1d3 + 3 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + 3 + (4) = 8

Move action: Move 20ft away from Ooze

Punching the ooze is probably not a good idea. Either Rudabeh's unarmed strike and/or her movement is probably going to provoke an AoO as well.

Rudabeh's ears attempt to unfurl inside of her helmet as she strains to catch the clattering sound as the ooze moves towards them. Her spear? Dagger? No, it was too much to hope for- an ancient plank of pine with a bent, rusty nail in it would be just as nice to see.

"It seems fixated on me." She comments as Ractus moves behind her, grabbing onto her pauldron. "I'm going to make some light, shield your eyes." Hand darting to her holy symbol, she grasps it tightly and prays.

The paladin's prayers were always genuine, but this one had a little bit of extra force behind it.

"Alseta, please give me your light, give me your strength!" She yells into the cavern voice clear as struck crystal. There was no wavering in the confidence that her goddess will see her through this.

Rudabeh's gauntlets first shine with a bright white light that both illuminates the tunnel down to its pores and casts long, pitch-black shadows from the stalactites and stalagmites. An instant later they also burst into flames, holy fire licking up to her wrists but doing no harm.

"I'm going to lead it away, get around it and see if you can find my weapons on the ground." She begins to move away from Ractus, hoping the ooze will follow her.

Thank you, Seqhi. Rudabeh thinks while hustling away from the rolling ball of hunger. Do you have any idea what this ooze is?

Standard action: Use Divine Bond to imbue her gauntlets with Flaming. They also shed white light with the intensity of a torch, which is 30ft of bright light and then 30 ft of low light.

Move action: Move 20ft away from ooze, leading it away from Ractus.

I'll tell you later! It was an optimistic thought, she realized, as she looked back at the slowly advancing ooze.

"We're under the arena. I am Rudabeh. That ooze is trying to eat us." Rudabeh firmly repeats in a lower voice when the confused saughin wakes. She whips her head back and forth between the ooze and Ractus. There wasn't enough time to wake him too, unless...

Seqhi, please make me go faster! The desperate thought was followed up with confidence the Ifrit would infuse her with a burst of speed, as Rudabeh is already jumping towards Ractus in two giant steps.

Bending over and wrapping one of her arms under his shoulder, she drags him across the wet stone floor several feet in a hunched-over carry that made her back hurt.

When she felt she had gained a little ground on the ooze, and fully exfoliated Ractus' back, the paladin shifts to a kneel and places both hands on the elf's bare chest.

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 2) = 11

Light spills forth from her fingertips for a few seconds, and the moment it ends she is roughly shaking her captain awake. "Get up! There's an ooze trying to eat us."

Swift action: Activate Burst of Speed for +10 feet movement.

Move action: Drag Ractus back as far as possible. Dragging allows for moving the dragged up to 1/2 movement speed, so maximum 15 ft.

Standard action: Lay on hands on Ractus.

Seqhi's squrealing was such a change from her usual paniced whimpering when they plunged into the water that Rudabeh barely registered her feet touching the ground.

It was mostly because her boots actually punched through the ground, and she was swept up in a current of sand and dirty water with only a moment to look upward and throw out a hand into the open air in futility.

Instinctively the undine closes her mouth and holds her breath as the first it of sand graces her tongue, leaving a dritty and iron taste in her mouth. Nicitating membranes cover her eyes, allowing her to watch as light vanished from her surroundings to be replaced by swirling, incohereent black-and-white lines of darkvision.

Tumbling, flailing, her hands try to grasp anything they can find along the stone chute but there is nothing to hold but sand and slick stone.

The floor levels out as she rolls to a stop, and Rudabeh scrambles with all four limbs to sit upright. Ractus and the saughin were confirmed to be the two lumps at her side with a quick turn of her head, but from the way they came...

Quickly reaching for her spear and finding nothing, her hand darts down to her boot for the dagger always strapped there.

Nothing.

"Well paint me like a Osirion galleon and strike the colors!" Rudabeh curses whole-heartedly before rolling over, stretching, and slapping a hand onto the leg of the unconcious sahuagin.

Divine power flows from her Iron Key, emanating in a flash of light that briefly illuminates the cave. Positive energy flows into the four-armed mutant, rapidly fixing the worst of the damage Ractus inflicted upon him. While he was an unknown, at least he would be able to see in the blackness. Ractus was going to be blind until she could call upon Alseta for some sustained light.

"Wake up! We're below the arena!" She shouts while picking herself out of the sandy slush and stumbling on two legs towards Ractus. "What is that ooze?!" A finger points towards the undulating mass slowly approaching.

Move action: Get up from prone

Standard action: Lay on hands on the sahuagin.

lay on hands: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 3) = 6 Come on Alseta. Need a little bit more juice.

"I certainly don't feel like a local anymore." Rudabeh comments sadly about her association with Outsea. "This place has changed." For a place with as many multi-centennials as Kyonin, it certainly seemed more like a human settlement now. "But please do. I will take it upon myself to speak with the Tallies and gauge their interest in mediation." Alseta willing, she could settle at least one dispute in Outsea with her skills before Finn's skills need to be involved. If it would let her generate enough clout to convince both the Tallies and Vrasa to ease off her father at the same time; all the better.

Staring at the scene below with bated breath, Rudabeh's grip on the stone railing tightens. She does not jump when Ractus explodes out of the water in a sudden frenzy, but instead relaxes her tensed frame with a sigh and scraping metal. "I had seen the rage within his eyes at times... but never unleashed..." Rudabeh says breathlessly, lips slightly agape in awe. The paladin struggled between being impressed at the martial prowess or affronted by the chaotic, brutal methods.

Torn as she was, there was no jubilation in her face when her Captain wins his bout, and Rudabeh continues to stand still staring at the scene below even as the elf collapses. Irovetti and Ractus... Two forces of chaos, equally powerful in their own way. Can they really be harnessed to bring order, or will they merely breed more chaos?

The paladin felt as if she had been given two powerful magic wands, no instructions on how to use them, and was hesitant to point them at any problems for fear of collateral damage. Would the gains be worth the costs when the time came to lean upon them?

"Mmm." Is her response to Finn's praise of Ractus, lost in her own contemplation.

Both were shook out of their respective lines of thought by the panic and shouts, and Rudabeh leans over the railing to try and see the source. The shining metal ball rolls out into the arena, and Rudabeh's head snaps to attention at Finn's orders. "Aye aye!"

Backpedaling a few steps while Finn yells to her muscle, she leans forward and takes two powerful pumps of her legs towards the railing, grabbing the edge and vaulting over the side. Water briefly slicks her exterior, and her hands wave in instinctive cupping motions to right her body and control her rapid descent. Rudabeh's stomach lurches as she inevitably plummets through the bubble membrane into the arena below; a delayed reminder that she absolutely hates the sensation of falling.

Gritting her teeth and looking below her as much as her retracted bevor would allow, the crowd would see a shining, silver humanoid streaking through the air with flailing arms as it attempts to land feet-first in the waters below.

acrobatics to negate fall: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (18) - 4 = 14 I think the DC is 15 to negate the first 10 feet of damage. Depending on the amount of water between the bubble and the railing she might have been able to slow/control her fall a bit more?

Also a reminder she has Detect Chaos active if this is some kind of chaos ooze.

"I wouldn't call him a fanatic," Rudabeh says of Ractus, his description of The First Blade heralding times of strife at the front of her mind. "but he is certainly a believer." As if to puncuate this, she extends with an open palm to the elf, who was waving to the crowd like he was the head of a parade.

Her face turns to a grimmace when Ractus becomes stuck, his foot trapped underneath the massive four-armed mutant. Giving her head a shake at the beat down, the paladin turns to focus her gaze on Finn. "Oh, I'm well aware..." How many people did Irovetti send to the dungeons for "betraying" him, when in reality they wanted out of his drug smuggling operation?

"He would have been all right if only Vrasa had frozen him out. But the Tallies seem to think he still works for Vrasa. Or maybe they don't care. I'd like to meet with their leaders if I can figure out who they are." Rudabeh continues, raising her voice to be heard over the cheering crowd. "I don't know enough about the Tallies, or what they want besides representation on the Council to give you any ideas. What is their problem with Vrasa? Weren't these humans brought in to work on the new sinkhole by Vrasa? If this is just a labor dispute, I'd be happy to mediate."

Slightly quirking one brow, she asks of her mentor: "How do you propose dealing with them?"

Rudabeh had a joke ready about Ziah- something along the lines of people (Ractus) calling a paladin stuffy, but a ritual of self-denial?. That was stuffy. Yet the news of Finn and Kosan having a spat closes her mouth faster than a prodded clam. "Oh." Is all the undine manages, a little stunned Finn had nearly admitted, in an off-handed way, that the two were actually in some kind of relationship.

It was an open secret, really- denied by both parties but anyone with half a brain knew what was going on between them. Some of the longer-lived companions in the Bastard Birgade often joked that the languid pace of Finn and Kosan's relationship seemed to be full elf speed instead of half.

So Rudabeh is unsure how to react to both an admission of involvement and bad news simultaneously. In the end her confusion fades and she merely smiles sincerely before stating; "When you see them again, give them the same from me." and then dropping the subject entirely.

She would have been interrupted if she had continued, anyway. Ractus's limp body made a terrible thud when it was tossed against the wall, and Rudabeh is already on the balls of her feet trying to get a better view to gauge his conciousness.

"He can't..." She replies to Finn when told to wait, fearing the elf was going to drown at this rate. But she stops her figiting, inhales quickly through her nose, and holds her breath as the seconds seem to crawl into minutes.

"True." Rudabeh responds when Finn says she was taught to kill. "And I wanted to thank you for that. If you had merely taught me how to defend myself I would have already perished in my duties as a paladin. Defending ideals requires the same convinction as taking a life." Her mentor seemed more like her old self again, and she was willing to accept the sudden nihilism as the cost of another decade of mercenary work.

"Oh, he has the fan of a sea lion." She says of Ractus, her brow furrowing while he smashes against one of the walls. She had soundly beaten him in Daggermark, but the elf had a cask's worth of wine in him and she had the help of her goddess. Maybe Finn was right, this was a chance to see his real capabilities.

A low snort escapes the undine's nose when Finn trips over multiple water-based puns, a grin creasing her lips at the mercenary's beleaguered expression. "You're soaked in salt now, it just starts to happen after a while."

"Hmmm..." Rudabeh begins when Finn reveals she is under Vrasa's employ, and the paladin opens her mouth to reply when splashing causes her head to swing back to the left. Tracking Ractus's wavy form through the air bubble added oppurunity for some extra imagination, so his acrobatic escape seemed extra impressive in the end. She grimmaces a little at the broken arm- nothing a bit of magic couldn't heal, but it all seemed so unessecary. Violence for the sake of violence.

"Well, hopefully the Lord in Iron is entertained at least." She responds to Finn's observation that Ractus is swimming against the current, and to finish her own thought about what purpose the sport fighting could serve. This fighting was a form of worship for Ractus. She had to accept it.

"I'm not casting any lines. I just want to know what you're up to, what you think about Outsea" The undine says sincerely, taking her eyes off the fight to look at Finn. "It's been a decade and I'm happy to see you."

With a small sigh and a shifting of plates, she switches the weight on her legs and looks back into the arena. "Vrasa is causing some trouble for my father. So are the Tallies. I aim to fix it." Her hands widen on the wailing, leather rasping against dry stone. "Outsea is a violent place," Her remarks were puncuated by the cheers of the crowd. "But these are not problems to be solved by the sword. An understanding can be reached, when I know more."

With a gesture to the disinterested, unfamiliar men at the far table, Rudabeh asks the question that had bothering her since seeing Finn sitting by herself. "Are Kosan and Zaih still with you?" It was a delicate matter asking after friends that willingly threw themselves into the kind of danger measured in platinum coins. She was ready to hear they were dead, though she hoped it was not so.