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Frontier - Act One, Chapter Three


Parrhesia
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Marnette shrugged. "This Baharese alchemist out in Prestige gets me to make gunstocks for him. They ship out from here and he turns 'em into firearms. I don't deal with the 'gun' part." She picks up the wood-and-steel shell of an elegant handgun, and shows you it - there's a firing mechanism, but it doesn't seem to do anything for now.

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"Fascinating," Kirsten muttered making a mental note of Prestige as a potential place to visit the alchemist. "I take it this alchemist is the one making gunpowder? What would his name be? Any particular quirks I need to be warned about when dealing with this alchemist?"

The fiery haired alchemist knows all too well the instability seemingly inherent in all alchemist. It seems only those of their mind had the delirious insight or outright insanity to pursue the path in life they thread.

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Marnette shrugged again. "Name's Elrich. Seems better-balanced than most alchemists. He really likes his guns though. Wants t' start sellin' to the military in a few years. Says they been used in Baharese border wars."

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Noting she probably would not be getting her gunpowder anytime soon, the alchemist browsed the crossbows hanging around for display closely before setting her eyes on the ripper.

Picking it up and admiring the mechanism that set it apart from the rest in terms of its ability to inflict more pain, Kirsten brought it to the counter and forked out the gold needed to pay for it while leaving her old cranequin behind. Collecting some petty cash, Kirsten asked, "Any shop that sells paint for the weapon?"

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Inspecting the light crossbow reveals it is compact, largely metal and fires broad-headed, serrated quarrels - its aim looks a little erratic, but if it hits, it'll hurt.

Marnette looked a little injured when asked about paint. "No, nor would I tell you if any did. What've you got against it?"

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Arin hadn't expected anyone to speak to him, after his wave was ignored, and he received plenty of judgmental stares. When someone did, he almost jumped straight into the pool, as it was a bit jarring. Luckily he didn't. "Oh! Ah, yes, ehm... I'm just fine. What about you... Er..." He had to think for a moment, but he was sure he'd heard her name. "Rill, was it?"

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Marnette shrugged. "Nobody I could name'd do that job for you. Maybe ask in Tanith, if y're by."

Rill slid down next to him. "Yeah. Oh, I'm just fine. ... So, uh, are you just going to paddle around? The whole... gash on your leg thing is kind of putting a lot of people off. You could probably ask for a footbath from someone, you know? Not as I mind." She smirked a little. "People get so worried about a little blood."

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Arin looked at her, to his leg, then back to her. "Well..." he thought for a moment, "they can deal with it, I suppose. If it was a private bath and there were rules against wounded soldiers dipping their legs into the water, I'd feel a bit worse about it. Though, if someone starts something, I'd rather not step on any toes. If all they'll do is stare, I'll stay." She then suggested a footbath, making Arin shrug. "Are you sure someone would want to get that close to my feet? That seems like it'd put them off..." Arin really took a moment to wonder if someone would do that without getting grossed out. He knew he would. "Ah, sorry. Probably boring you with my wondering. Anything on your mind, Rill, other than my leg?"

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"Ah! Ah, right. Well, I have, ehrm..." He coughed. "Little to no experience in such areas..." The line was mumbled under his breath. It was becoming quite apparent that even if he could fight as well as the rest of these people, he had far less life experience. In incredibly important areas.

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Rill scritched Arin's hair. "Well, okay, then. As long as you're happy here, then I'll probably get back. 'S probably about time to head to the cold pools, for me."

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Arin turned slightly red at the gesture. "Uhm, well... I guess. If you don't mind, perhaps you could lend me some of your, well, knowledge?" He struggled for what he felt were the right words. "Right, so, I mean, you've got it all figured out with what you want with Inge. How do you go about, well... Getting it?" He flushed red. "You see, I've grown rather fond of Bekka. I mean, d-don't get me wrong, we've just met, so I feel that something like that would be far out of the question, believe me... I just. Really have absolutely no clue about how to go about any of this."

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Rill shrugged. "Ask her what she thinks of you. Just be honest. I mean... I'll ask, if you don't want to." She scritched his head again, at least partially to keep Arin blushing.

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"H-Hey, stop that," he mumbled. "I don't know if I could, really. And I think it would look rather weak if I had someone ask for me. D'you find it amusing that I can stare down almost certain death and throw fire at it, but I can't ask a girl if she likes me? I do. I almost feel like laughing."

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"Aw, not used to having naked women scratch your hair?" said Rill, perhaps with a slight hint of teasing. "Fine. Fine. Who am I to stand in the way of young love? I'll ask Bekka sometime and I won't say you asked." Slightly unnecessarily, she poked him in the ribs with an elbow. "So what is it you like about her, hm? Her eyes? Her chest? Her backside~~?"

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"N-No, I really am not..." Arin had been avoiding eye contact for a reason, but his stoic demeanor (which had been entirely a ruse) was quickly being demolished. "No, don't, just-- ugh..." He was far more red than he'd wanted to be. "I just-- no, not her chest, I haven't-- or her-- why would I do that?" He threw his arms up and sighed. "She just... Reminds me of home. She has a beautiful face. And is incredibly easy to talk to. She lets me feel like I don't have to worry about fighting, or scouting, or getting shot at by arrows..." Flustered, he struggled to look Rill in the eyes. "Satisfied?"

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Rill snorted, before turning to full laughter. "Very satisfied. You'll be okay, kid. You'll be fine. I'll see what she thinks later."

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If he was proud of anything, it was making people laugh. Even if for the wrong reasons. "No, I said not..." Arin placed a hand on his face and sighed. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea. "Alright, alright. Do what you must. I doubt I could convince you not to." It was a bit reassuring, but Arin couldn't feel that the consequences of such actions would be good.

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"Will you be clothed?" he asked, plainly. "I-I don't have anything else to do. If you'll have me to come along with you and Inge, then I will. I've never seen a theater production, actually..."

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Rill crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, and decided to creatively misinterpret him. "Oh, you like seeing me like this? Well, sad to say you'll not get a chance for that down at the theatre, but... you can come anyway, if you want."

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"Stop that!" Arin said, getting slightly annoyed. "I'll give anything to get you dressed and to get Inge with us. Perhaps your affection will be focused elsewhere if he is..." It wasn't that Arin didn't appreciate the teasing, it was that he felt incredibly awkward when it was coming from someone who was naked.

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"Still plenty of time before things start," said Rill in a slightly injured tone, critically examining a roughly-bitten nail. "Well, I suppose I'll see you there, then." She swung her legs out of the bath and trotted back over to Inge.

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Inge couldn't help but observe amusedly while Rill seemed to have more or less harassed the scout. "He's... quite a piece, eh? ...It does takes some awareness to enter a bath with that wound." He said as Rill returned. "Sure seems like you had him cornered, what was his trigger?" He wasn't all that curious, but was well pressed for any intelligent conversation at the moment. For some reason. "Want to go to the cold pools?"

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"Well met, I am Bartholomaus. Everybody calls me Barth, though. It's easier." Barth said, extending his arm offering a shake of hands. "You fought quite well last battle. You prefer axes too, eh? Nice to talk to you."

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