It was also, however unlikely it may sound, possible to vomit in a dignified fashion. The living proof of this, one Lady Amaranth Veritas, was at the side of the not-overlarge boat, sickly proving away this astonishing fact.

The lady in question's companion, one Cleo Brandis was in utter awe of this fact. Perhaps more the first than the second, but she was in awe all the same.

"How do you do that?" she asked for what was probably the dozenth time.

"Water doesn't agree with me," Amaranth replied sickly, turning her head slightly to face Cleo. Her head snapped back to its position over the rail as she turned a lot greener.

Cleo stared. "Amaranth..." she sighed.

They arrived in Radat maybe an hour or two later, long after Amaranth had relieved her stomach of everything she'd eaten in the past week, thoroughly amazing everyone on the boat.

As she and Cleo stood on the docks, she said calmly, "Never take me on a boat again,"

"Don't worry about that..." Cleo muttered.

"Now, don't be snippy, it ill befits you," Amaranth said, a trifle briskly. "At any rate, we really should be looking for a place to spend the night, or did you think that far ahead at all? Or were you too busy gawking?"

Cleo made an indelicate noise that made Amaranth frown disapprovingly. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Cleo said. "Why're you following me, anyway?"

"Because I want to," Amaranth replied irritatingly calmly. "Haven't we been over this before? I know you wouldn't care if I was dead. I bet it doesn't even matter to you that my sword's broken."

"What?"

Amaranth sniffed. "Why should I elaborate? You don't care, correct?"

Cleo rolled her eyes. "I've never once said that, and you know it. Now tell me what happened."

Shrugging, Amaranth said, "I don't know that there's a lot to tell... I think it broke when I did that stunt with that worm... I just didn't notice until now... That sword's like that sometimes... It's an odd little bugger."

"Thought you said that sword didn't break..." Cleo drawled.

"It hadn't yet." she said icily.

Snorting, Cleo said, "Yeah, whatever. S'pose we'll have to look into getting something to replace that thing. I don't think Radat's the best place, though, from what I've heard."

"No, it's not," Amaranth said agreeably, or at least, reasonably so.

Cleo shrugged. "Since we're not going to get any of that done today... It's still early, but we might as well look into getting our rooms for the night."

"What do you mean, 'no single rooms left'?" Cleo demanded of the innkeeper. She knew exactly what was meant, of course, it just right pissed her off. It was better than no rooms left, to be sure, but it would mean she'd end up sharing a room with Amaranth, and that, in all likelihood, would probably be something akin to Hell.

"What do you think it means?" the innkeeper asked boredly.

Cleo sighed and hit her head against the front desk. "But I bet you've got lots of double rooms, don't you?"

"You guess well."

"Fine," Cleo said. "One of those, then, for one night..." She was far from happy about the arrangement, but it was, admittedly, better than there being only one single room available. That would be worse than Hell. That would be... super-Hell.

So all things taken into consideration, this wasn't the worst thing that could happen. And at least Amaranth looked fairly unhappy about the arrangement, too. Cleo smiled slightly to herself about that as she paid the room fee, took her room keys, and tossed one lightly behind her to Amaranth.

Cleo went upstairs then, figuring she should at least put her things down before taking a look around Radat. Besides, it was always best to check your accommodations before sleeping in them. Before paying, too, but it was a little late for that.

All in all, it was a nice looking room, though one unexpected furnishing made Cleo nearly jump out of her skin.

It's very rare that inn rooms come furnished with short, black-hooded-and-caped people.

As both Cleo and Amaranth went for their weapons, the person threw up its (very delicate and not particularly human-looking)hand, saying, "Please, don't, Ladies... I'm sorry to have done this like this, and in retrospect, this way really was a bad idea, but I really have to talk to you... I've no ill intent, please, please, just listen to what I have to say, then I'll leave, if you wish," in a voice far too nasal to hold the slightest bit of menace.

Cleo thought about that for a moment or two. As she thought, she came to the conclusion that while this... person was quite probably harmful(and how -had- he gotten into this room, anyway?), he(it sounded like a he) was probably honest about the ill intent part. If you're looking to hurt people, you usually don't talk to them first; standard practice is to hurt them immediately. So, she calmly put her various weaponry away. Amaranth hesitated a moment after that, then did the same with her broken-but-still-sharp sword.

However, Cleo wasn't done with that. While she was fairly certain that there was no immediate danger, she didn't like the idea of not knowing who she was dealing with. She stalked over to the corner where the person stood and, despite nasal protests, jerked back the person's hood.

Whatever she was expecting, that wasn't it.

His rather nice black hair was raggedly cut to fall just past his shoulders. His widely-spaced eyes were an unusually brilliant shade of emerald green. His skin was at least as pale as Amaranth's, though in a different, quite odd way. Across his nose was a somewhat out-of-place-looking dash of freckles. But what caught Cleo's attention was that his ears came to a very distinct point.

An elf. A black-haired, green-eyed, freckled elf. With a scowl on his face and his hands placed indignantly on his hips. "Satisfied?" he demanded. "You could've just asked, you know."

"Sorry," Cleo mumbled. "But you're... an elf."

"Yes, I'm an elf," he said irritably. "And you two ladies are human. And that bright yellow bug flying outside the window is a bee. Any more blatantly obvious observations to make?"

"I'm sorry..." Cleo said, thinking. "But I've never heard of an elf with black hair, green eyes and freckles..."

"He's a Harmonian elf," replied Amaranth coolly. "I should think that would be obvious. Unless-- don't tell me you don't know anything about anything in Harmonia."

"I don't," said Cleo, a little miffed. Then she thought of something she'd been told once, about elves from different places. "But... aren't Harmonian elves supposed to be taller than you are?"

He scowled, not entirely seriously. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! Everyone always says that! I'm sick of it! Everyone says I'm too bloody short! It's nature's way of balancing things is what it is! I can't help where my height is distributed!"

"What?" Cleo said as Amaranth burst out laughing. Then she realized what he meant and felt her cheeks grow quite hot. "Oh."

"Quite," said the elf. "But we should be getting down to business... My name is Crys de Lara. I had heard that a... heroine of the Gate Rune War was coming up to this neck of the woods. You have to pass through Radat to get to anywhere in Jowston if you're coming up from Toran, and I was in the area to begin with... I was thinking someone of your likely quite deserved reputation would perhaps be able to help me with my predicament..."

Cleo pulled up a chair and sat in it, then indicated for Crys to do the same. "What kind of predicament do you mean, exactly?" She was genuinely curious, for some reason.

"Wellll..." Crys said, sitting down. "There's a very dear friend of mine... I'm more than half his protector, if you want to know the truth of it. Anyway, there's a group of thieves that live in the mountains east of here-- not the ones in that pass to Highland, further south. Now, Amber, he is one of the better 'adventurers' out there, but he... doesn't think. At all. He decided it would be a good idea for the two of us to go after these thieves and see if they had anything interesting. Now, it so happens that we ended up getting caught. These thieves... captured that silly ditz."

"So..." replied Cleo slowly. "You want to help us help you get him back? If you got caught the first time, what makes you think that you could do it with us?"

Crys shrugged offhandly. "I know what they're capable of now. It's not a waltz-in-and-rob-them-blind thing anymore, besides. I'm not certain, of course, but certainty is overrated."

Cleo didn't particularly like hearing things like that when people were trying to get her to do dangerous things. "That still sounds awfully... dangerous..."

"Of course it is," Crys admitted with another shrug. "If it wasn't dangerous, I could do this myself. In fact, I'm relatively sure that I could almost do this myself, but I'm in the need of magical backup. You are noted for your magical skill, and I daresay that your friend here looks the type to have leanings in that direction, as well..."

Amaranth made a sound much like a derisive snort. She walked over to where Crys sat and calmly, deliberately removed her right glove with a calculating look in her eyes. As she held her right hand in front of his face and said, "Do you know what this is?", Crys emitted an "Ahh..." that sounded a great deal like a nasal, purring cat. Amaranth replaced her glove.

"I do indeed know what that is..." Crys said softly. "Amber, he likes to talk about rare, unique and generally unusual runes... I don't pay much attention, but I know about that one... I can't say I understand what it's like to have it, but... I do know what it does."

Amaranth nodded slowly, then backed away from Crys. She seemed to note that his eyes were fixed a part of her that, as a matter of fact, did come as a pair, but was most distinctly not her eyes. She primly pointed out the location of the latter.

"I know," Crys said agreeably. "But your chest is much more interesting. But that's irrelevant at the moment. Will you help me?"

Cleo paused, scratching the back of her head. "Well... you've been incredibly sketchy with the details, given me no reason to trust you, and you look like you've got a bit of a mammary fixation. But... why not?"

"Excellent," Crys said, still staring at Amaranth's chest. "I'll try to find some way to compensate you... But for the moment, I'm unable. I do, though, need to work out arrangements for tonight's accommodations..."

"And there are no single rooms left..." said Cleo, realizing where the short elf was going.

Crys tilted his chair back, smiling triumphantly. "There aren't, are there? Then, since we're working together, I'm sure you two lovely ladies would be more than willing to let me sleep with you... One at a time, both at once, or both, whichever you prefer..."

"The floor," Cleo said flatly.

"Don't you think the floor would be a little cold for that?"

"I mean you're sleeping on the floor," Cleo sighed. "No, not with anybody. Just you, alone with your dirty thoughts."

"Of course," Crys nodded. "I certainly didn't expect you to agree. No one ever does. Except for... but nevermind that. Your sword is broken, isn't it, Lady?"

Amaranth nodded gravely. "Though it wouldn't let me notice until we arrived."

Crys nodded as well. "Here," he said, removing the sword that hung on his right hip. "It's a different type of sword, but you should be able to manage, once you get used to the commentary." He looked down at his sword and said, very firmly, "Be good." He then handed it to Amaranth.

Amaranth took it, then immediately scowled and looked at the thing like it was a live snake. "Perverted little bugger, isn't it?"

Grinning happily, Crys nodded again. "We get on well together."

Cleo cocked her head slightly, looking at the sword. "What are you talking about?" she queried, not seeing anything unusual about it, besides the inordinate amount of wind runes on it.

"You know how some famous swords talk?" Crys said offhandly, returning his eyes to Amaranth's chest. "This one thinks it's famous. So it talks in its wielders' heads."

"Oh," Cleo said, finding that a bit odd nonetheless, but she decided to let that lie. "But how can it do a thing like that?"

Crys paused. He seemed to be thinking, but he might just have been contemplating Amaranth's... front-heaviness. Finally, he said, "I think... I think it used to be a person, a long time ago... then it ended up pissing off some really powerful mage, or something, and said mage turned it into a sword. I think that, anyway; I'm not sure."

Cleo nodded. "I see," she said, finding that even odder. "Does it have a name?"

"Dunno what anyone before me called it, but I call it Generic Phallic Symbol."

This earned him stares from not only Cleo, but Amaranth as well. Cleo tried to think of something, anything to say to that, and only came up with, "Oh... really?"

Shrugging, Crys' head bobbed up and down yet again. "I mean, why pretend? I swing that sword around because I can't swing my... sword... around. 'Less someone asks." His expression positively screamed, "Please ask."

"I see," replied Amaranth disapprovingly. Then she looked down at the sword and slapped the hilt, hard. "Don't even suggest that ever again," she admonished. "Not only is that disgusting and probably immoral, I think it's physically impossible."

"If it's suggesting what I think it is," Crys said blandly, "then it's not physically impossible-- if you're flexible enough, that is."

Amaranth gave him a sour look. "Curse you and your nice streak," she said, now glaring at Cleo, who only smiled shrugged in reply.

Sure, going along with Crys would be stupid. Sure, a million things could go wrong. But she'd done things that had sounded stupid before; she'd even done things where a million things could have gone wrong.