[RP] Big Dock Energy

Wyrmrest Accord
((Oh hey pals, I wrote a very short story about Rasek and then didn't proof read it oooo spooky noises.))

The city of gold was dripping in it. A blinding mid-day sun bleached and warmed the stones that made up Dazar'alor's dockyard, stretching out into an emerald sea that did nothing to break the heat. Golden lizards baked on filigreed steps, eyeing the cool of the shade and fountains lined with the faces of the Loa that stood out of the way of the ziggurat steps.

Rasek sat with his back to them, the sweat and salt mixing with his clothes to form a second, comfortable skin. His feet were black with dust and dirt, and the bottle of Mojo'ito in his hand had long since gone warm. A cigarette dangled precariously from his lips. He kept one eye nearly closed to keep out the smoke.

If there was ever a day to die in peace, this was it.

He looked and was ignored like any other vagrant, and being a forest troll was hardly more than a blemish on an otherwise proud, beautiful Zandalari fixture. It made business easy and relaxing easier; living under the radar of otherwise watchful guards who didn't care to make sense of his thick Amani accent.

And if the warband didn't like it, they hadn't said a word. He'd seen Taz'jin beaming with pride with the Darkspear emissaries, no doubt trying to make a good impression on everyone for everyone. He'd seen Tiombi herding her wayward children to the temples and shrines, eager to help them fit in by leaving offerings to the Loa. Even the sizable forsaken population he employed seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The soft padding of bare feet against stone pierced through the haze of Rasek's lethargy. A pack of kids darted by him, arms full of fishing nets, seashells, broken poles, and driftwood. There were plenty of groups like them, mostly orphans, who busied themselves collecting “treasure” along the surf. One of them stopped before him, his blue-green skin and stout frame standing apart from the others.

“Whatcha doin dere, Riska?” His son, dressed in a tank top and shorts, dark hair tossled by the spray, was holding a knife. “An where'd ya get dat?”

Riska stuck out his lower lip and hid the knife behind his back.

“No no no, I already seen it, ya can't hide in now.” Rasek held out his hand. “Give it here.”

The boy shook his head. “No papa, it-- it's mine, I got it for my job.”

“What job? Ya five; ya don't need a job.”

Riska stamped his feet, eyes welling up with tears. A year ago he would have already devolved into a screaming tantrum, but the proximity of the other kids must have been holding him back. A little peer pressure to keep the kid in check.

“Who even gave ya a job, eh?” The older troll rolled forward, setting his drink down next to him and pulling his son closer.

“M-- Mista Nice gave me de sword an he said because I'm bigga den de u-- de udda kids dat. Dat I'm de guard an I gotta proteck dem.”

Rasek looked down at the “sword” in his son's hand. It was a crude shiv-- no more a sword than it was a rifle-- but he didn't doubt it could do some damage to an unsuspecting victim. It looked to be peeled off one of the boats, wrapped in leather and canvas around the handle, and very poorly sharpened.

Still. Nothing he wanted someone else giving his kid. Especially not if they expected him to use it.

“Can I goooo nowwww?” The boy was swaying back and forth, pouting.

Rasek sucked his teeth and climbed to his feet, flicking the remains of his cigarette towards the water. It was getting late in the afternoon, and if the guy was employing kids to do his dirty work he probably didn't keep late hours. If he wanted this cleared up by nightfall he'd really have to hoof it.

“Ya ya sure kid, go play wit ya friends. An be careful wit dat ting.”

“What're you gonna do?”

“Nuttin for you to worry about, eh?” Rasek smiled down at his son, taking the dagger from his hand and tucking it into his belt. “Just gonna pay a little visit to Mista Nice.”
I love Ras and Riska so much. Always such a joy to read one of your stories.
((Thanks! The nice thing about Riska having a "job" and some pals is that he isn't being left with random forsaken babysitters anymore.))
(( i wish i had that meme on hand ))
((WHAT MEME))
((Absolutely this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6gBu2Zd7Bc ))
(( stag got me COVERED ))
((oH YEAH))
(( what else would it be, honestly ))

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