Episode 41 – Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
| The Assassins | Craven - Fighter / Rogue 2nd/2nd LE (CE emerging) (PC) |
| Locale | In the sewers, beneath the streets of Del Mord. |
| Date | 3rd Planting, 582 CY (Common Year) |
| Time | Unknown. |
The waters in the pool were still, the surface an inky black. Craven treaded water and peered around nervously for any sign of the crocodile. He hadn't seen the beast since they had tumbled over the waterfall but he knew that it was down here, somewhere.
The churning torrent and thunderous roar of the sewer above was left behind as Craven floated aimlessly along in the dark, ominous waters. His leg was numb from pain and the young warrior knew that if he didn't get onto dry land soon his life would bleed into the sewer. The crocodile had released its grip on Craven's leg the instant they plummeted over the edge and now he drifted along hoping that the massive reptile was as blind as he. Craven swam forward, careful not to make too much noise, lest he attract the attention of the beast. The biting chill threatened Craven as surely as any wound and the young duelist fought against a rising tide of panic. Expectantly he floated along with the slight current, he knew that the waters had to come out somewhere but hope was fading fast.
Suddenly a splash shattered the silence. The crocodile was near. Craven spun in a tight circle and searched for a sign of the creature. He tore his rapier from its sheath and held it high, poised to strike. But it was hopeless. He was kidding himself if he thought he would be able hit anything, he could barely make out his own hand in the darkness let alone a crocodile beneath the surface of the water.
A few tense minutes passed and Craven remained as motionless as possible. He felt the cold seeping into his bones and was forced to lower his weapon as the muscles in his shoulder tired. Craven was hugely disadvantaged and every minute he wasted with inaction brought him closer to an unpleasant death. With firm resolve the duelist began to paddle forward. He nearly let out a cry of relief as he brushed up against the sewer wall.
Craven sheathed his sword and quickened his pace as he pulled himself along the wall. His hands were numb and the going was hard but if stopped now he knew he would sink, never to rise again. The wall felt naturally rough and Craven surmised that he was no longer in the Del Mord sewer system, rather an underground cave which was probably uncovered when a wall gave way. The sharp, jagged rocks tore at Craven's waterlogged skin and the soft flesh of his palms came off in strips. The flow of blood from his hands steadily increased with each movement and Craven sustained himself on the ridiculous hope that crocodiles had no sense of smell or taste.
Craven rounded a corner and there, just a few feet ahead, was a tiny alcove with a small wooden pier. A dull, magical light illuminated the area and Craven quickened his pace toward the pier. Just as he reached the wooden construct he heard another splash. Craven turned and saw the crocodile, its powerful tail propelling it rapidly through the water. The beast was still some distance away but the gap was closing fast. Craven kicked his legs with all his might knowing that his only chance of survival rested in reaching land.
| Craven | Come on! It can't end like this. |
He risked another glance behind as he began to pull himself onto the ledge. The crocodile was only a few feet away and, as Craven heaved himself onto the pier, the crocodile's massive jaws snapped shut where his leg had been only an instant before. Craven rolled into the middle of the pier and rose to his haunches. He tore his rapier from its sheath held it defensively before him and watched on with horror as the large reptile scrabbled for purchase at the head of the pier. Just as Craven thought to stab at the beast it circled away, slipping back into the inky darkness.
Craven was tired and it was all he could do to fight off the effects of fatigue. The discovery of the alcove had awakened in him some glimmer of hope and he knew that with solid land under his feet he had a slim chance of survival. He reached for his sabre only to find the scabbard empty. With a growing sense of foreboding Craven waited for the crocodile to circle around.
He did not have to wait long. Within moments the massive reptile re-entered the small circle of light, it's rapid approach almost taking Craven by surprise. Craven figured it would try to beach itself upon the rocky ledge beside the pier and he moved around to meet it. He held his rapier firmly, tried to relax his stance and prepared himself for the battle ahead.
| crocodile | (swims furiously at Craven, raises its head at the last instant and propels itself onto the ledge with a powerful sweep of its tail) |
| Craven | (steps forward and thrusts his rapier at the creature, the blade piercing the reptile's body just over the right front leg) |
| crocodile | (barely notices the wound, hisses horribly and lunges at Craven, its jaws open wide) |
| Craven | (jumps back and manages to avoid the snapping jaws) |
| crocodile | (slides to one side and swishes its tail, whisking Craven's feet out from under him) |
| Craven | (knocked to the ground, loses his grip on his rapier which clatters to the ground a few feet away) |
| crocodile | (continues to thrash its tail, buffeting Craven before turning around for a bite) |
| Craven | (rolls away from the gaping maw and crawls toward his sword) |
| crocodile | (lunges and manages to close its huge mouth over Craven's left arm) |
| Craven | Aaarrrgggghh! (screams in agony as his arm is broken, his right hand only scant inches from his blade) |
| crocodile | (starts to retreat into the sewers, pulling Craven along by the arm) |
| Craven | (desperately rips his arm from the crocodile's mouth, opening a multitude of horrible lacerations) |
| crocodile | (snaps its jaws again, this time getting nothing but air) |
| Craven | (crawls back to his sword, grabs it with in his right hand then scrambles to his feet) |
| crocodile | (moves forward, its eyes locked on Craven) |
| Craven | (The pain from his wounds send adrenaline throughout his system and he succumbs to the all too familiar rage) |
| crocodile | (surges forward, its mouth open wide and its tail swishing furiously) |
| Craven | (hurdles the large reptile and drives his sword deep into the creature's scaled hide) Die! |
| crocodile | (wounded now begins to circle its prey with more caution) |
| Craven | (with no regard for his own safety, steps toward the crocodile and stabs again with his blade, opening another wound on the creature's body) |
| crocodile | (spins about rapidly, cannoning its tail into Craven) |
| Craven | (knocked to the ground again, but this time manages to hold onto his weapon) |
| crocodile | (senses an opportunity to strike and swings about again, opening its jaws to finish off the petulant human) |
| Craven | (thrusts his sword into the crocodile's open maw with all his might, the blade piercing the roof of the mouth and stabbing into its brain) |
| crocodile | (dies) |
| Craven | (stabs again and again, blind with rage before collapsing exhausted to the ground) |
Craven couldn't move. The blood pounded in his head and his rapid breathing continued for many long moments after the combat, but he lacked even the energy to stand. As the rush of adrenalin ceased, he became aware of the pain in his arm and the aches all over his ravaged body. He was alive, but his life offered nothing but pain. He only had time to bandage his shredded arm with his sodden cloak before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Craven had no idea how much time had passed, but he awoke in pain. His joints had stiffened from the cold and the many cuts and abrasions all served to make his discomfort complete. His ruined arm throbbed mercilessly but he was relieved to find that he could still move his fingers. Appraising his many wounds, the young duelist figured that there was hope if he could get them tended to quickly.
After taking stock of his body, Craven surveyed his surroundings. He was in a man-made alcove, lit by an unknown, obviously magical source. From the end of the pier a short corridor led away into near darkness. Craven followed the passage and discovered that it ended in a locked, slightly tarnished iron door. The young swordsman reached into his pouch and retrieved his trusty lockpicks, the very ones that he had used in his training back on the Olman Isles. The picks were of the highest quality and as he opened the finely crafted, leather satchel he was thankful that he didn't lose them in the sewers. With only one hand the task was difficult, but Craven had a special affinity with locks and before long he had the door open. He returned his lockpicks to his pouch and entered the room beyond.
The room was dark and Craven had to hold the door open to allow the light from the alcove to filter through. The room was roughly ten feet by ten feet, with a second door in the far wall and large wooden closet to his right. A ramshackle table, littered with all manners of sewer-worker paraphernalia, occupied the other wall. Craven plucked a bucket off the table and placed it by his feet to wedge the door open. Satisfied that the door would remain open, he proceeded to inspect the room.
Several rag filled buckets, a pair of long-boots in a state of disrepair, a partial set of rusty, mundane tools and a lantern were the only things of interest on the table. Craven examined the lantern and found oil in the reservoir. The young duellist fumbled through his backpack for his tinderbox but shook his head resignedly when he discovered the small box held more water than tinder. Craven placed the lantern back on the table and proceeded to search the closet. Besides several dirty coveralls, a second pair of boots and a hemp sack, Craven found a tinderbox along with a piece of flint and steel. It was a difficult task to light the lantern with only one hand, but after ten or so minutes the lantern flared to life.
| Craven | Now, time to get out of here. |
Taking a rag from one of the buckets the young swordsman fashioned a crude sling for his wounded arm then hooked the lantern on his weapon's belt before listening at the door. Hearing nothing, Craven opened the door and proceeded to climb the staircase beyond. At the top of the stairs was another door but this one was constructed of heavy oak and bound in iron. Craven listened again, tried the handle and found the door locked. He shuttered the lantern and peered under the door, somewhat relieved to find a total absence of light. Believing the room beyond empty, Craven unshuttered his lantern and set to work on the lock. This lock was far superior to the first and it took Craven considerably longer to open it. After twenty minutes of effort Craven drew his rapier opened the door and stepped into the corridor beyond.
The corridor ran left and right and was furnished frugally, the only sign of wealth a large tapestry upon one of the walls. From all appearances it seemed as though he were in a private residence. To his right the corridor ended at a door and to his left it opened into what appeared to be a kitchen. Craven crept toward the kitchen and stopped when he spied a light shining under a door therein. With his sword held before him, the young assassin moved stealthily across the kitchen floor to the door and listened. He heard the distinct sound of a crackling fire and soft, steady breathing. Just as Craven was weighing up his options a dog barked.
| voice | (beyond the door) What is it, boy? |
| dog | (barks) |
| voice | Is there somebody there? Who is in my kitchen? |
| dog | (scampers across the room begins to scratch at the kitchen door) |
| Craven | (frozen, stares at the kitchen door, too tired to think clearly) |
Suddenly the door opened and warmth flooded over Craven. Wearily the young assassin raised his rapier only to lower it when he saw the figure beyond. A small man, no more than five feet tall, holding a small dog in the crook of his arm. His face betrayed no fear as he appraised Craven.
| man | Who are you and what are you doing here? |
| Craven | I... um... I... |
| man | (sees the large quantity of dried blood covering Craven's clothes) Heavens! What has happened to you? |
| Craven | Er... the sewers... a crocodile. |
| man | Come in here, young man, stand by the fire. You look like death. |
| Craven | (too weary to object and too cold to ignore the promise of warmth enters the lounge room and moves to the fire, only dimly aware of the potential for danger) |
The room was small, with a fire crackling warmly in a fireplace against one wall, and a second door on the wall opposite. The other walls were filled with shelves, holding all manners of domestic artifacts; books, figurines, lamps and other assorted curios. The floor was covered with a large circular rug, upon which stood a table and two chairs. The generous fire had little trouble heating the room and Craven wasted no time assuming a position in front of the welcoming flames. Once Craven had entered the room, the man closed the kitchen door behind him and began to stroke his little furry dog.
| man | Flare, stop your yapping. |
| dog | (stops barking but continues to stare at Craven mistrustfully) |
| man | Please, sir, sheath your sword. |
| Craven | (drops his sword to the floor, soothed by the man's gentle demeanour) |
| man | That's better. Now, who are you? |
| Craven | (wearily) Craven, my name is Craven. |
| man | And I am Maritai. Welcome to my home. |
| Craven | (suddenly very tired) Thank you. |
| Maritai | What happened to you? |
| Craven | I was, um, walking through the sewers and I was attacked. Attacked by a crocodile. I was lucky to survive. |
| Maritai | Let me take a look at your arm. (approaches Craven) |
| Craven | (backs away) |
| Maritai | (raises his hands in the air) Craven, I mean you no harm. I am a priest of Pelor and I may be able to help you. But before I can you are going to have to trust me. |
| Craven | Why? (eyes narrow distrustfully) Why would you help me? |
| Maritai | Why would I not? |
| Craven | (baffled) |
| Maritai | (approaches) |
| Craven | I have nothing to offer you. If it's money you want... |
| Maritai | (shakes his head) Your thanks will suffice. (carefully removes the sling and peels Craven's shredded sleeve away from the wound) Can you wiggle your fingers? |
| Craven | Yes. (demonstrates his range of movement before wincing in pain) But it hurts. |
| Maritai | Here, take a seat and I'll get my salves. |
| Craven | (moves across to a chair) |
| Maritai | Wait! Let me put a cloth down first; you're saturated and I'd rather not ruin my favourite chair. (hurries away) |
| dog | (begins to growl as soon as Maritai leaves the room through the kitchen door) |
| Craven | (glances around the room and at the second door. Briefly debates whether to flee but decides to stay and put his faith in the strange man) |
| Maritai | (returns and places a heavy blanket over the chair) There, that's better. Flare, stop your growling. |
| dog | (stops growling, moves over to the fire and sits down) |
| Maritai | Take a seat, Craven, and give me a look at that arm of yours. |
| Craven | (sits down and holds out his arm) Ouch! |
| Maritai | Steady. (studies the wound, his expression grave) |
| Craven | What? |
| Maritai | It looks bad. You could lose your arm. |
| Craven | (closes his eyes) |
| Maritai | There is a chance I can save it if you let me help you. |
| Craven | Yes, do it. Do anything you have to; just save my arm. |
| Maritai | I shall try. (reaches beneath his woollen shirt and withdraws a medallion depicting the sunburst symbol of Pelor) Craven? |
| Craven | Yes. |
| Maritai | Are you a religious man? |
| Craven | Not especially. |
| Maritai | Do you place your faith in a god? |
| Craven | (thinks) No. I just said I'm not religious. |
| Maritai | Okay. Craven, before I tend to your wounds I want you to promise me something. |
| Craven | (hesitant) What? |
| Maritai | I want you to promise that, once you've healed, you will return here and allow me to teach the tenets of my faith. Will you do that for me? |
| Craven | Um, I guess. Whatever you say. Please, my arm... |
| Maritai | (lays one hand over Craven's arm, the other on his medallion and begins chanting) |
| Craven | (watches in disbelief as the horrendous wounds in his forearm close, the healing spreads deeper and knits the bones, washing the pain away) Holy shit. |
| Maritai | (completes his spell and sits back) How do you feel? |
| Craven | (clenches his fist and wriggles his fingers) I feel... amazing. |
| Maritai | Such is the power of Pelor. Now, close your eyes and sleep. Have no fear I mean you no harm. You have had a long night and you will feel better after a restful sleep. (hands Craven a cup containing a steaming liquid) Drink this, it will help you sleep. |
| Craven | (takes a few sips of the drink before closing his eyes and falling asleep) |
It was mid-afternoon when Craven finally awoke. He was in the same chair as he was when he fell asleep. Maritai had laid out a plate of food and was reading in another chair by the fire. Flare, the dog, lay asleep at his master's feet. Craven shut his eyes and stretched, testing his limits. He almost gasped in surprise; not only did his arm feel sound but the other wounds on his body were also healed. Craven looked back to the priest, sat up straight and smoothed back his hair.
| Craven | Maritai? |
| Maritai | (closes his book and looks across to Craven a warm smile on his face) Ah, feeling better? |
| Craven | Much. Thank you. I feel... I feel as healthy as I've ever been. |
| Maritai | Good. (indicates the plate of food) I've taken the liberty of preparing breakfast for you. (chuckles) But I suppose we should consider it afternoon-tea. |
| Craven | What time is it? |
| Maritai | Mid afternoon. You've been asleep for about ten hours. |
| Craven | (begins to nibble on a dry cracker) |
| Maritai | How did you get into my house? |
| Craven | I was washed down the sewers to your pier. That's where I killed the crocodile. From there I picked a lock in your basement and another at the top of the stairs. |
| Maritai | Picked the lock, eh? |
| Craven | Yes. I used to be a locksmith. |
| Maritai | (chuckles) I see. And what were you doing in the sewers? The sewer is a dangerous place for a locksmith. |
| Craven | I used to be a locksmith, now I'm an adventurer. You see I was trying to follow this map. (retrieves Runcas' map from his backpack) |
| Maritai | (holds out his hand) May I see it? |
| Craven | Um. |
| Maritai | I am a sewer worker of sorts and may be able to help you. |
| Craven | (thinks then passes the map over) I suppose it can't hurt. |
| Maritai | (unrolls the map and studies it intently) There is quite a bit of water damage. |
| Craven | (walks over to Maritai and looks over his shoulder) We... I was trying to find out where it leads. I came into the sewers here (points) but got swept away somewhere here (points) |
| Maritai | (indicates three symbols on the map) These are markings used by the engineers who constructed the sewer. They indicate major cisterns and outlets. (indicates a place on the bottom of the map) This marking is a sewer outlet. I could tell you where it comes out, if you wish? There are numerous outlets in that area but it would be a simple enough task to match this symbol to the one on the tunnel. |
| Craven | Thank you. That would help me no end. |
| Maritai | Now, let me think. (studies the map intently) I seem to recall seeing a symbol like that down near Clinker's Fishery which you'll find on Catfish Avenue. If you head down there you should find this exit tunnel but from that point on you're on your own. These other markings make no sense to me. |
| Craven | Thanks. (studies Maritai) Can I ask you a question? |
| Maritai | Sure. |
| Craven | I don't mean to be rude but, why are you being so kind? I mean, what's in it for you? After all I break into your home with a weapon in my hand and you offer me kindness and healing. I just don't understand. |
| Maritai | When you return to me and we begin our instruction you will come to understand. Helping you is reward enough. |
| Craven | (taken aback) Thank you. You are perhaps the kindest man I have met. |
| Maritai | (laughs) Think nothing of it. Now, if you don't mind, it is getting late. Let me show you to the door. |
Craven left Maritai's home and headed back to The River Snag Hostel. As he climbed the rickety stairs and thought back on the kindness of the priest he knew that, one-day, he would return. After a deep breath Craven unlocked the door and stepped inside. Keldirk, Creighton and Azareth lay in their beds, their smelly clothes piled up in the centre of the room. Craven noticed with a smile that Keldirk's sodden backpack lay upon his own sleeping pallet making it clear that Keldirk considered him dead.
| Craven | (walks across to Azareth's pallet and taps the mage on the shoulder) Azareth, wake up. |
| Azareth | Huh? (sits up) Craven! You're alive! |
| Craven | Of course. (smiles) |
| Creighton | (clambers out of bed and hugs Craven in a firm embrace) You're alive! |
| Keldirk | Keep the noise down. (glances once at Craven before turning over in his bed) |
| Craven | You guys smell awful. |
| Creighton | (laughs) And you don't? |
| Craven | Not as bad as you, that's for sure. I'm heading down to the City Baths, do you boys care to join me? |
| Creighton | (yawns then winces when the pain in his arm returns) Sure, I'm in. Az? |
| Azareth | Why not? (looks over to Keldirk's sleeping form) I suppose there's no point inviting him. |
| Craven | No. Forget about him. |
That night the assassins were summoned to Saradock's apartment. Keldirk was unusually quiet and hadn't spoken two words to Craven all day. Only when Craven told the others that he had a lead on Runcas' Map did Keldirk show an interest in proceedings. But for all his customary bravado, Keldirk was strangely subdued.
After a lovely three-course meal, Saradock pushed his plate aside and sipped from his wineglass.
| Saradock | (looks around the table and notices that the assembled guests had finished their meal) Okay gentlemen, it's time for business. |
| Azareth | I take it you have another assassination for us? |
| Saradock | Indeed I do. A contract has been taken out on a man called Christian Van Darrin. He is a wealthy importer of wines and has an impressive estate in the High Quarter here in Del Mord. Van Darrin generates some of his sizable income with the sale of his art. Apparently he is an artist of some skill and rumour has it that some of his paintings hang on Prelate's walls. He enjoys the finer things in life: travel, hunting, fishing, fencing, high-society engagements and the like. |
| Craven | Did you say fencing? |
| Saradock | Aye. |
| Craven | Van Darrin? (thinks for a moment then nods) I've heard of him. I'm fairly sure he attends the same fencing school as me. |
| Saradock | Well if you plan to tackle him there I suggest you be very careful. I hear he was second runner up in the Del Mord Fencing Open last year. |
| Craven | (raises his eyebrows, obviously impressed) |
| Saradock | Van Darrin has decided to sell his home and relocate to his second home in the Everwatch Hills, South Almor. |
| Keldirk | When is he scheduled to leave? |
| Saradock | Two weeks. And that is the first of your difficulties. The contract dictates the Van Darrin must die before he leaves Del Mord. |
| Keldirk | (under his breath) Two weeks! That doesn't give us much time. |
| Saradock | You see, it is his wife who has placed the contract on Van Darrin and she has requested that her husband be killed before they leave Del Mord. She has no intention of moving to Southern Almor as her lover lives here and she has grown rather fond of this city. |
| Creighton | (amused) His wife took out the contract? |
| Saradock | Yes. Apparently she has been secretly involved with one of Van Darrin's models. (looks down at a piece of paper on the table) The model is a handsome fellow that Van Darrin uses in his portraits. |
| Keldirk | So the wife wants her hubby killed so she can keep the house, stay in the city and be near her lover. Is that all there is to it? |
| Saradock | No, there's more. The contract unfortunately has a few qualifiers that must be met before full payment can be received. (reads from the paper on the table) Christian's death must be quick and painless. It must look like an accident and, as I have already said, he must be killed prior to the seventeenth of Planting. The Van Darrin estate must not be damaged in any way. |
| Craven | (incredulous) It has to look like an accident? What on Oerth for? |
| Saradock | Mrs Van Darrin doesn't want any investigations into her husband's death. Apparently she hasn't been totally discrete with her boyfriend and she is afraid that if investigations proceed then her involvement could become known. |
| Craven | That's going to make it difficult, Vepser. |
| Saradock | I know. But she is paying The Family a lot of money for this contract and I want you boys to do your best to meet the terms of the contract. |
| Keldirk | What's the wife's name? |
| Saradock | Maryanne. Maryanne Van Darrin. |
| Keldirk | And the model? Do we know his name? |
| Saradock | Fabios. He currently resides in a bungalow at the rear of Van Darrin manor. |
| Craven | So her boyfriend lives in the same grounds? (chuckles) That must make her trysts easy to arrange. |
| Saradock | Yes, I would imagine so. |
| Keldirk | What about Fabios, are we allowed to touch him? |
| Saradock | No, Fabios cannot be harmed. Either can any of the Van Darrin children. |
| Keldirk | How many are there? |
| Saradock | Four. Ages four, eight, fourteen and sixteen. |
| Azareth | Is that all? |
| Saradock | Yes, that about covers it. |
| Azareth | We shall begin our preliminary analysis first thing tomorrow. |
| Saradock | Good luck. |
| Normal Text | Character's words or descriptive text if part of a paragraph |
| Italic Text | Character's thoughts or actions if surrounded by parenthesis |
| Bold Text | Character is shouting. |