Date: The Night of the Snowfall ------- Location: In the Crewmember Quarters
Snow falls overhead, deadening the air and making the ship's progress descend into a dream-like fog. Briddim-Rhua, hissing in the darkness, begs the attention of the enormous crewmember.
(Briddim-rhua): Rhua seems to be at the end of his rope. With visible frustration, but focus evident in his eyes, he hisses to grab the attention of Hektor without waking the sleeping crewmembers. Snow drifts in through cracks in the walls. "You, cousin. You hear and see all within these confines. I have need of you — in order to pay a debt, I must procure...spices...of some kind. I know there cannot be many onboard this hateful vessel, but if you can help me, I will make it worth your while."
(Hektor): Hektor is fastidiously mopping a small circle in the hold. He pauses this all-important work with a put-upon sigh, and stares at Briddim-Rhua. His heavy brows lower even more heavily as he simply stares in silence. For a minute it seems as if he may not respond at all. Perhaps the hulking crewmate does not even speak.
But then at last he goes, "Huh?" How eloquent.
"Spices?"
(Briddim-rhua): Rhua grins wolfishly. He sizes up the massive man, rolling his shoulders back as he does so.
"Are you a man of honor, Hektor?" he says, quietly. "Have you ever been in a debt before?"
(Hektor): "Uh huh," replies Hektor, which is only a little more eloquent than his first remark to Rhua. He looks down at the oily threads of his mop against the planking. "Spices..." One might imagine he doesn't even know what the word means, and is just repeating it. Given the language they're speaking, it's possible -- his accent is heavy with the mispronounced sibilants and long vowels of a native Elukoi speaker attempting Sirdabi.
(Briddim-rhua): "Then you know how it eats away at your soul to be in such a state. Hektor!" Rhua hisses urgently, and grabs the man's forearm. "There are terrible things happening on this ship. I will get to the bottom of them. I ask little of you...yet. But please, keep your ear to the ground. There is great blood that flows through my veins, though I look but a herdsman. I can be of great service to you if you help me." Rhua keeps his eyes fixed on Hektor's, probing for any sense of knowledge or urgency.
(Hektor): Hektor's mopping stills. He looks down at Rhua's hand on his forearm. It's an uncomfortably long stare.
And then he meets the other man's gaze. Behind the dullness in his own eyes is a sense of deep disturbance, and even though he says nothing, that sensation roils and bubbles there like the slowly-drying suds left behind in his tightly-contained circle of mopped floor.
"Spices," he repeats at last.
(Briddim-rhua): Rhua locks into the movement of Hektor's soul that he is certain he saw. A small, determined grin slides across his mouth for a moment.
"Perhaps cinnamon. You are a brave man, Hektor." He releases the arm, then spits into his hand, proffering it to Hektor. "Do what you can, and I will do what I can."
(Hektor): Hektor deigns to take one palm from his mop handle. He hawks and dribbles into this hand with a few fwhee noises of lip-flapping exhales to get rid of the last stream of spittle. Then he clasps Briddim-Rhua's grip with a baleful stare that returns the same promise, wordlessly. The deal is made.
(GM): OOC: The scene fades to black.