Episode 60 – Inbetween Days
| The Assassins |
Azareth - Wizard 5th Level LE (PC) Craven - Fighter / Rogue 3rd/3rd LE (PC) Creighton - Fighter 5th Level LE (PC) Keldirk - Rogue 6th level NE (PC) |
| Locale | Top floor of The Whistler, the assassins' private room. |
| Date | 26th Reaping 582 CY |
| Time | Midday. |
The assassins had completed their training and, for the first time in four weeks, they convened in their private room in The Whistler. For the last hour and a half Keldirk, Creighton and Azareth had been examining the belongings found by the skeletal remains that they had discovered in the cavern beneath the tavern.
| Creighton | Some things never change. (rolls his eyes) |
| Azareth | You are just being obstinate, Keldirk. If, for once in your life, you would listen to reason I- |
| Keldirk | Blow it out your arse. I'm not interested in your opinions, mage. I'm going to keep both swords and that's all there is to it. |
| Azareth | Craven, please, say something. |
| Craven | (lying on his bed, rolls over disinterested) |
| Keldirk | He obviously agrees with me. |
| Creighton | (laughs) Yes, obviously. |
| Azareth | I think Craven's lack of input is more indicative of the rising sense of frustration he feels when forced to listen to your inane arguments. I would like to say that you have the cognitive powers of a dungbeetle, but I can not. That would be unfair to dungbeetles. |
| Keldirk | Watch your lip, mage. |
| Azareth | (sighs) Again with the threats. We are getting nowhere fast. This is getting beyond ridiculous. |
| Keldirk | Then shut your mouth. You might like the sound of your voice but I don't. The matter is decided; I keep the swords. |
| Azareth | (pleadingly) Craven? |
| Keldirk | (turns away and returns to his bed) |
| Creighton | Hey! We haven't finished here. |
| Keldirk | Yes we have. You'd do well to keep out of this. This is none of your concern. |
| Azareth | Oh, but it is. It is exactly Creighton's concern. |
| Creighton | (angrily) You tell him, Az. |
Craven had become quite accustomed to the solitude of his sword master's home which was several miles out of town. But now that he was back he was again confronted with the tedious bickering of his companions. He knew that if he allowed this to continue Keldirk and Creighton were likely to come to blows.
| Craven | Will the three of you please shut up. Now listen. There are three magical weapons and three of us are able to use them. It seems logical that we each take one. |
| Keldirk | But Creighton won't use his, he prefers his longsword. A magical scimitar's just wasted on him. This is shit, this whole situation is shit. |
| Craven | By the gods you can be annoying. (takes a deep breath) Do me a favour and just think about it for a moment. I realise that the scimitar is not Creighton's favoured weapon, nor is it mine, but since we have occasionally encountered enemies that can only be struck with magical weapons it seems wise for us each to have a method of hurting them. A spare magical weapon is better than no magical weapon at all. |
| Keldirk | (struggles to see a flaw in the argument) Whatever. Who gets what? |
| Craven | I'll take the one we got from the undertaker and you two can each have one of the scimitars we found in the cavern below the cellar. As soon as another magical weapon becomes available we will redistribute them as is most effective at the time. There, that was easy. (shakes his head disbelievingly) |
| Keldirk | (grunts, takes a scimitar from the pile and returns to his bed). |
| Craven | Now I'm going to spend some time in the High Quarter, if you want to contact me you will probably find me in The Golden Wheel. Since they don't allow weapons in the high quarter, Keldirk feel free to make use of my scimitar. |
| Keldirk | Thank you, oh charitable one. |
With that Craven grabbed his cloak and left the room. He chuckled as he walked along The Processional towards the High Quarter gates. Keldirk could be infuriating and Craven took a perverse delight in bating the angry young assassin. But Craven knew he could count on Keldirk's tenacity if things got tight.
Craven knew that, of them all, it was he who had to prove himself. It was he who had let the team down the most and it was now up to him to earn their trust and respect. But, by the same token, he needed to unwind. The four weeks of training had been very therapeutic, the concentration and focus on his swordsmanship had given him the time and opportunity to purge his mind of the demons of the past. The Natasha experience had effected him more than he let on.
Craven was feeling more and more like his old self with every passing day but he still needed something to focus upon. He knew that until The Family contacted them with the findings of Sapphire's report, their time was their own and Craven did not want to let this opportunity go to waste. He was going to have some fun.
After negotiating entrance through the High Quarter gate Craven walked about the area and marveled at the stark contrast in this part of Del Mord. It never ceased to impress Craven just how different the High Quarter was to the rest of the city. It was effectively a town within a town, with its own guard, a separate market and commercial centre; its own series of taverns and a distinct flavour which Craven found intoxicating. Growing up in a wealthy family, the swordsman never lost his taste for the finer things despite the many years of abuse after his abduction by The Family.
Craven organised his accommodation at the luxurious boarding house and returned to the streets. He walked aimlessly through the district until he spied a suitable tavern. The sound of revelry inside was alluring and he decided to sit awhile and enjoy a glass of fine wine. He entered the taproom and looked around. Unlike the taverns in the rest of Del Mord, this one seemed to have no distinct bar. Rather, the room was filled with circular tables of varying size surrounded by some decidedly comfortable-looking one and two seat couches. Delightfully uniformed serving women patrolled the room and one of these approached Craven with a genuinely warm smile on her face.
| Waitress | May I direct you to a table, sir? (raises an eyebrow) |
| Craven | Thankyou, good lady. Preferably one near to the window, I like to watch the bustle of traffic. |
| Waitress | (inclines her head, a golden lock falling over her perfectly formed shoulder) Certainly sir. Please follow me. |
The woman led Craven to a nearby table and helped him find his seat. Once she was sure the handsome young man was comfortable she took his order and left with a professional air. Craven smiled as she walked away, then turned to the window and relaxed. Yes, this was exactly how things should be; comfortable surrounds, fine clothes and excellent wine. But the waitress' fine form reminded Craven that something was lacking; the company of an attractive woman. With that thought in mind Craven surveyed the room.
There were a number of other people in the lounge, some laughing and joking among themselves others discussing business but - to Craven's dismay - there were only three women. Two of these were obviously part of larger groups but one was clearly in need of rescuing from a number of unwanted suitors. Craven rose, straightened his vest and prepared to go to her rescue. There was something familiar about this third woman and Craven searched his memory for her name as he neared her table. His eyes widened slightly in recognition and he had difficulty suppressing a smirk.
His approach attracted the attention of the three men surrounding her but Craven arrogantly ignored them as he addressed the shapely young lady, taking her hand and kissing it gently.
| Craven | Forgive this interruption milady, but I have the distinct impression that we have met before. |
| Lady | Perhaps. |
| Craven | My name is Craven and I am deeply troubled. |
| Lady | You are? |
| Craven | Yes. You see I have the grave misfortune of being unable to recall your name though I am certain we have met before. I am frightfully embarrassed and find it incredulous that I have misplaced the name of such an angel. And for that, I apologise. It is a reflection on my poor memory and nothing more. I hope you can forgive my oafish forgetfulness. |
| Lady | (regards Craven and smiles) You choose your words carefully Master Craven, I appreciate that. Apology accepted. My name is Rochelle, please do sit down. |
| Craven | (clicks his fingers) Rochelle, of course. Never shall that name be far from my thoughts. |
| Man #1 | (turns away, disgusted by Craven's overt flirtations) |
| Craven | But alas, dear Rochelle, I must humbly decline your generous invitation. I'm afraid I have already selected a table over by the window (indicates the wineglass standing at his empty table) and as you can see my wine has arrived. You are most welcome to join me when it is convenient, I did not wish to interrupt. |
| Man #1 | (snorts) Too late for that I'm afraid. |
| Rochelle | (places a hand on Man #1's lap while still looking at Craven) There is no reason to get irate Gyfrey. Master Craven is an old friend and there is absolutely no need for any aggression or jealousy towards him on my behalf. |
| Gyfrey | (looks at Craven, unconvinced) |
| Craven | I can only offer you - and your fellows - my apology, Gyfrey. I trust it is accepted without incident. Allow me to buy you all a drink. |
| Gyfrey | That will not be necessary. You are an ill mannered and arrogant man, Master Craven. Your apology is accepted now return to your table and leave us in peace. |
| Craven | (ignores the man and takes Rochelle's hand) Until later? |
| Rochelle | (nods) |
With that Craven turned and returned to his table. He sat in the comfortable lounge and sampled the excellent red merlot. It never ceased to amaze the young swordsman how eager men were to prove their manhood in front of beautiful women. In this case, Craven had no need to prove anything since he knew the woman in question quite well and wondered what Kazza was doing in the High Quarter. It was unusual for prostitutes to operate outside their district but, then again, Madame Fifi was full of surprises and perhaps her business did extend to this part of the city. With a self-indulgent chuckle Craven dismissed his idle speculation and relaxed with his wine.
It was halfway through his second glass when Kazza approached his table. She bent briefly, gave Craven a familiar peck on the cheek then sat down on the couch next to him.
| Kazza | I am surprised to see you in this part of town Craven. |
| Craven | Likewise. Rochelle? |
| Kazza | We each have our secrets, I'm sure. (smiles) Thankyou for not saying my name back there. |
| Craven | Think nothing of it. Who were they? |
| Kazza | Nobodies, really. Just some young merchant sons hoping for something to brag about. |
| Craven | I couldn't help but notice that they left unsatisfied. Do you have a client this evening or are you, how shall I say, on vacation? |
| Kazza | No, I am here to work, I'm afraid. And what of you? This is about as far removed from the hurly burly of the River Quarter as you can get. |
| Craven | Merely here to soak up some atmosphere. It makes a pleasant change from the filth of the River Quarter. |
| Kazza | (laughs) I know what you mean. Congratulations on the new tavern by the way. I had heard that The Whistler was open again. I had no idea you were a businessman of such high standing. I'm impressed. |
| Craven | (shakes his head) My contribution is a purely financial one I must admit. I leave the day-to-day operations to my manager. He's an annoying son-of-a-bitch but a shrewd businessman by all accounts. That leaves me free to pursue ... other interests. |
| Kazza | I see. (thinks for a moment) I was wondering, perhaps your being here at this time is a stroke of good fortune on my part. Perhaps I might convince you to do me a favour? |
| Craven | (brightened at the thought) Go on. |
| Kazza | The reason I am here, in the High Quarter I mean, is for business. But it is quite a disturbing matter. It seems that a number of girls from our quarter, and others besides, have gone missing over the past couple of weeks. In every case these girls have been sent to a client in the High Quarter and have not been seen since. |
| Craven | (raises an eyebrow) Surely the authorities would be interested in this. |
| Kazza | (snorts) Not as far as we can tell. The guards in the High Quarter don't really care that a number of working girls have gone missing and the guards in the other parts of the city have no real authority up here. Consider that, and the fact there have not been any bodies found or signs of foul play, and we find ourselves on our own. |
| Craven | (nods) So what have you been able to find out? |
| Kazza | I have been working on this for a few days and I have managed to discover the name of a client who each of the girls had visited. |
| Craven | And you think this man could be the one responsible? |
| Kazza | I don't know. But it's all I've got to go on. I'm a prostitute, Craven, not an investigator. To be honest I don't know what Fifi was thinking when she sent me here. I'm pretty handy with a knife but that's about it. |
| Craven | You're good with your hands and mouth, I seem to recall. |
| Kazza | (giggles) You know what I mean. |
| Craven | So what does this man looks like? |
| Kazza | I don't know, but I do have an appointment with him tonight. That's why I'm up here. |
| Craven | I see. |
| Kazza | (grabs Craven's hand) I could use your help. I'm more than a little frightened, truth be told. |
| Craven | There's no need to be scared, I'll be happy to look out for you. But, sadly, I am unarmed. I could offer little more than to keep an eye out and alert the watch if anything should happen. (smiles) My fisticuffs skills are somewhat less than exemplary. |
| Kazza | Just knowing you are close will ease my mind, thankyou. (thinks for a moment) I can get you a weapon if you need one. And, as for alerting the watch, well, I'd like to avoid that if at all possible. |
| Craven | Where are you meeting him? |
| Kazza | There is a tavern and eating hall in the Garden Quarter called the "Sorrow of Aliador". I am meeting him there. |
| Craven | I know the place. Is your client an elf? |
| Kazza | (shakes her head) No, he's human. |
| Craven | If this man is the perpetrator of the crimes then I wonder why he chose to meet you at the Elven Tavern? The two of you will stand out like dog's balls to use a vulgar expression. (rubs his chin thoughtfully) |
| Kazza | I wouldn't have a clue. |
| Craven | Perhaps he is concerned that your pimp will watch over you. |
| Kazza | I don't have a pimp. Well, not really. |
| Craven | I know that but your client might not. |
| Kazza | I don't understand. |
| Craven | Any other humans in the 'Aliador would be conspicuous; it's a fine place to make sure that you didn't bring any extra protection along with you. If I am to keep an eye on you it will have to be from the outside. If my memory serves me there are a number of trees surrounding the place and I should be able to find somewhere to hide. I suggest you get there early and find a seat by a window. |
| Kazza | (nods) What about the weapon? |
| Craven | If you have access to one I wouldn't say no. What kind of weapon? |
| Kazza | A dagger, anything longer would have been found by the gate guards. |
| Craven | Oh, but I would hate to leave you unarmed. |
| Kazza | (smiles sweetly) No need to worry on that score. I have more than one weapon at my disposal. |
| Craven | Good. Then I accept your offer, a dagger will do nicely. (thinks) I assume your business with this gentleman will not take place at the tavern? |
| Kazza | No. I am sure we will retire to somewhere more private after our meal. If at all possible I will leave the front door open to let you inside after the two of us get settled. |
| Craven | Don't take any risks; I am a capable locksmith. |
| Kazza | You're full of surprises, aren't you Master Craven. |
| Craven | I have the odd thing up my sleeve, yes. (smiles) So, how do you want this thing to work? |
| Kazza | If he doesn't attack me then I've got the wrong man and it's back to the proverbial drawing board. But, if he does attack, then I will have to take him alive. I will need to ask him a few questions. But I want you to know that I am quite capable of looking after myself so try and stay out of it unless things take a turn for the worse. I have no wish for you to get hurt. That said, knowing that you will be nearby to lend a hand is a comort. |
| Craven | I am ever willing to give aide to a lady. |
| Kazza | Thankyou, Craven. (reaches out and touches his forearm) I mean that. (stands) There are a few things I need to take care of before tonight so I will bid you good afternoon. |
| Craven | (stands) |
| Kazza | Meet me here just before sunset. I will have your dagger with me. |
Kazza turned and left Craven standing behind her. The young swordsman watched appreciatively as the shapely young lady sauntered away.
| Craven | Well this could be interesting. |
The pair met at sundown. Craven was dressed in a dark, yet fashionable outfit while Kazza looked breathtaking in an embroidered dress.
| Craven | You look lovely. |
| Kazza | (smiles and smoothes her dress) It is quite fetching, isn't it. My client gave it to me to wear. |
| Craven | He has wonderful taste in clothes. It fits you well, how did he know your size? |
| Kazza | (shrugs) It was all arranged between Madame Fifi and him. |
| Craven | Did you bring me the dagger? |
| Kazza | (reaches into her handbag and removes the weapon) Here you are sir. (smiles) |
| Craven | More a knife than a dagger, but it will suffice. (tucks the blade into his vest and offers his arm) Shall we go? |
The pair made their way to the Garden Quarter and the "Sorrow of Aliador." As they neared the well- known elven tavern Craven left the path, entered the trees and searched for a convenient - yet comfortable - vantage. The sun had just dipped below the horizon when he found the ideal position, well hidden from the road yet offering a relatively clear view of the eating area. Inside Craven saw that Kazza had obtained a seat in front of the large, bay windows and Craven knew he would have little difficulty keeping her in sight.
The evening seemed to drag on for Craven. Thankfully the weather was mild but the hours seemed to crawl by. Kazza's client, an elderly gentleman, arrived soon after Kazza sat down. To Craven's great relief he arrived on foot without an escort. After a brief introduction the pair sat down for a quiet meal and what seemed to be a lively conversation. Kazza carried herself well; she appeared relaxed and offered no sign that she was anything other than a woman enjoying the company of her male friend.
Kazza and her client left soon after they had finished their meal, choosing not to stay for a drink - much to Craven's relief. It was a pleasant night and Craven was thankful that the pair decided to walk rather than arrange a carriage. He trailed them from a distance as they walked leisurely through the well-lit streets. It was several hours to midnight and there were still a fair number of other people out walking. Craven had little trouble keeping them in sight and was able to remain far enough away to avoid being seen as he followed them to a two-storey house in an older, and thus less opulent, part of the High Quarter. He watched from behind a statue as they entered the building. Then he waited.
After a few minutes he saw a lamp flare to life in what appeared to be reading room on the ground floor of the old home. He saw Kazza and the elderly gentleman hang their coats on a wooden coat hanger and then traced the progress of the lamplight up the stairs. As it passed the front doorway he noticed that the door was slightly ajar.
| Craven | (smiles) Bravo, Kazza. |
With a glance to make sure that the street was deserted, the young swordsman stole to the open door and crept into the house. Once inside he paused and listened intently, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the interior. He could hear the sound of muted conversation from upstairs and, after quietly closing the door he proceeded upstairs towards the source of the sound. His dress shoes were ill suited to skulking and Craven was thankful that the thick rugs on the floors dulled all but the loudest of sounds.
Once on the second level it was perfectly clear which room was occupied. Craven stealthily made his way to an alcove less than ten feet from the doorway to the occupied room. He could hear Kazza's voice and the light shining from under the doorway made navigation quite easy. When he reached the alcove he waited, Kazza was in control of the situation now and he would only act in response to her. He knew that the young woman was more than capable of handling herself and he was content to let her call the shots.
The conversation soon ceased and Craven then heard the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking. He smiled as he imagined the scene in the bedroom. The hot-blooded young assassin suppressed his desire to cross the hall and peer inside, instead he closed his eyes and tried to relax. It was then that he caught a glimpse of movement on the stair.
Craven held his breath and strained his ears, as he tried to hear anything out of the ordinary. His job was made all the more difficult by the excited noises from the bedroom but Craven was well trained and he was able to put that sound out of his mind. Concentrating hard he heard the regular breathing of another person from near the top of the stairs. Craven inched further into the shadows then concentrated on controlling his own breathing.
His patience was rewarded. The newcomer stepped into the hallway and neared the bedroom door. The figure reached into a pouch hanging from its belt and removed a number of flower petals. In the faint light Craven could tell that the figure was human though slightly built, probably male but it was difficult to tell. What was unmistakable was that the figure was preparing to cast a spell.
This was certainly unexpected and Craven wasn't sure what to do. The figure began to cast and Craven had no choice but to act. In moments the mage would complete the incantation and the opportunity to strike would be lost.
As the newcomer began on the second verse and sprinkled the petals into the air, Craven acted. He quickly drew the knife that Kazza had given him, stepped forward and drove the blade deep into the mage's back. Even as the blade slid home, Craven covered figure's mouth with his other hand.
Despite the speed of Craven's attack he was unable to prevent a short cry from passing the spell caster's lips but the damage was done. The spell was ruined, the trickle of blood coming from the mage's mouth meant that the blade of the knife had entered the man's lung and judging by the limp body the wound was serious. Craven lowered the body to the floor and listened, if there was one newcomer then perhaps there could be others.
The only sounds were those from the bedroom and it was immediately apparent that Kazza had heard the scuffle outside because she was confronting her client. Craven decided that she had the situation under control and moved to check the rest of the house.
He descended the stairs as quietly as possible and returned to the ground floor to find the front door locked. That meant that either the spell caster, or some other as yet undetected intruder, had a key. The ground floor remained in darkness and Craven was deciding what room to check next when he heard Kazza's call from upstairs. Without a second thought he took the stairs in three long bounds and returned to the second floor. At the top of the stairs Craven found Kazza leaning over the body of the fallen mage.
| Kazza | Where did he come from? |
| Craven | I don't know. Outside. Another room, perhaps. I think he has a key. Are you alright? |
| Kazza | I'm fine. (smiles) The old guy is out cold. |
| Craven | Good. I was downstairs checking for others. |
| Kazza | Did you find anything? |
| Craven | No. I think he was alone. But I didn't manage to check each room. |
| Kazza | This one's dead and it'll be a while before the other guy wakes up. Drag the body into the bedroom while I get dressed. |
Craven did as he was instructed and searched the body while the young woman donned her clothes. He found a dagger, a pouch filled with material components, a key and a necklace with a circular pendant hanging from the chain. The pendant was inscribed with an odd pattern that Craven had never seen.
| Craven | (points to the unconscious man) What're you going to do with him? |
| Kazza | I know someone who will make him tell us what's going on. Until I bring that guy here I suppose we tie him up, gag him. |
| Craven | And this one? |
| Kazza | I'm not sure. What was he doing out there? |
| Craven | He was a mage and was casting a spell. I thought it best that he didn't complete it. |
| Kazza | (nods) Still, it is a shame you had to kill him. He might have been useful. |
| Craven | I only stabbed him once. (shrugs) Better that he be neutralised quickly; mages can be troublesome if given time and space to work their magic. |
| Kazza | You're probably right. Thanks for your help tonight. |
| Craven | Happy to help. |
| Kazza | Can you tie this guy up? |
| Craven | I am hopeless with ropes and knots... you had best do it. I know you're good at it. (smiles) |
| Kazza | You remembered. |
| Craven | Of course. (looks around the bedroom) What are you going to tie him up with? |
| Kazza | You will be surprised what you find in people's closets - at worst he will have a dressing gown with a belt. |
With that Kazza began to search through the man's wardrobe and before long she had the man secured to a chair using a combination of belts and curtain ties. A handkerchief was stuffed into the man's mouth and held in place with a number of bootlaces.
| Kazza | That should hold him for a while. I'll have to go and make contact with the interrogator until then would you mind waiting here until I get back? |
| Craven | (smiles) It is no trouble at all. Let me finish my search of the house and I'll be right back to keep an eye on our trussed pig here. |
| Kazza | You do that. In the meantime I'm going to make myself more comfortable. |
Once Craven was satisfied that there was no one else in the house he returned to the bedroom. Kazza left straight away and left Craven alone with the securely tied man. The body of the magic-user was plainly visible and served to keep the captive silent and cooperative. Craven paid him very little heed as he sat back and waited for Kazza to return. The house was locked and she had taken the key with her to allow her to return without Craven having to leave the man alone.
The wait was uninteresting and Craven passed the time studying the pendant he found on the dead mage. It did not appear to be an expensive item, made from simple steel and gilded with bronze. The design was a simple geometric pattern consisting of a number of overlapping circles and squares. It offered absolutely no clue as to its origin but left Craven's mind to wonder through a number of wild theories and fantastic possibilities.
So engrossed was he in his speculation he almost failed to hear the front door open.
| Kazza | Craven? |
| Craven | Still here. (casts a quick glance across to the captive) No-one has gone anywhere. |
The young swordsman could hear Kazza climb the stairs and he also knew that she was not alone. He waited for her and her companion to enter the room before he rose from the bed.
The man who entered after Kazza was certainly distinctive. His darkly olive complexion and thin mustache made him stand out, but by far his most striking feature was his eyes, blood red and piercing. Black gloves adorned his hands. Craven felt a moment of discomfort in his gaze before he extended his arm in greeting. The man reached forward and shook Craven's outstretched hand firmly, a wry smile on his face.
| Kazza | Craven, this is Jariel. (moves her hand between them in introduction) Jariel, Craven. |
| Jariel | (smiles) Well met. |
| Craven | (nods) Indeed. (looks to Kazza) Do you want me to stay? |
| Kazza | I have no objections to you staying, unless you would prefer to be elsewhere. |
| Craven | (shakes his head) I am happy to stay. I must admit this entire situation has piqued my interest. |
| Jariel | In that case my friend, please stay. I enjoy working with an audience. |
Kazza took hold of Craven's hand and led him to the bed, indicating for him to sit down.
| Kazza | Jariel is a mind stripper. He is able to extract thoughts from minds of others. |
| Craven | (whistles in surprise) I see. |
| Jariel | (focuses his attention on the bound man) The experience is quite invasive but it can be painless, provided the subject is willing to allow me access. The more the subject resists the greater the pain, and the greater my enjoyment. I prefer a challenge, but often my enjoyment is not universally well received. |
At this, the elderly man began to struggle with his bonds and mumble. Jariel removed his glove and placed his open palm over the man's forehead. An expression of concentration crossed Jariel's face momentarily before he turned to face Kazza.
| Jariel | He claims not to know what is going on. He insists that he has never seen the dead man and he cannot understand why you are doing this to him. |
| Kazza | (shakes her head) I am unconvinced. The dead man was in possession of a key to this house and appeared to know exactly what to expect once he got inside. |
| Jariel | Then it seems I will have to dig deeper. (turns back to the bound man with a gleeful expression) I do hope you put up an admirable fight. |
Craven looked on in fascination. Jariel seemed a man in ecstasy as he probed his victim's mind. Every now and again the bound man would twitch his muscles and clench and unclench his fists. Beads of sweat were evident on his brow and it was quite clear that whatever Jariel was doing was extremely painful.
Mercifully, it did not last for very long. Just before Jariel removed his hand the bound man spasmed violently then fell limp. Jariel replaced his glove and with a satisfied expression turned to face the others. He stood quite still for a while, breathing deeply and savouring the moment before he spoke.
| Jariel | He had a vibrant mind for a man of his years, a clear sign of good education and natural intelligence; a rare prize in today's violent society. |
| Kazza | What did you learn? |
| Jariel | It appears that our friend here was a recruiter of sorts. As you have already surmised he hired women such as yourself and brought them here to be captured by his accomplice. (indicates the dead mage) The spellcaster would place the girls into a magical sleep and then another spell is cast that makes them feel able to trust the spellcaster. He gives them a pendant with some markings on it and arranges to meet them the following day outside Del Mord, the girls are then taken by another party. That's all the information he was able to supply. |
| Craven | Did he know where the girls were asked to go? |
| Jariel | (thinks) Yes, it was a place called The Derringsgate. I've not heard of it. |
| Kazza | I have. It's an old manor house about a mile out of town, but I don't see how that information helps. |
| Craven | Think of it. They are expecting you to show up there tomorrow sometime. They may not yet realise that their mage friend is dead nor realise that we know part of what is going on. I might be able to organise some additional muscle to take a look around this Derringsgate tonight. If we find nothing, I can watch over you tomorrow. |
| Kazza | (thinks briefly) I'm not sure about this. I think I had best talk this over with Fifi. Give me the pendant and meet me at the Angels' Junction in two hours. I'll let you know what I decide then. |
| Jariel | What should we do with him? (indicates the bound man) |
| Craven | Is he still alive? |
| Jariel | His body is... but his mind is all but gone. He will die if he is not looked after. |
| Craven | (nods) I'll take care of it. I will meet you in two hours. Jariel, will you escort Kazza to the Angel's Junction? |
| Jariel | Happily. |
Craven waited until the pair left the room and then proceeded to finish off the bound man. Once done he removed the tongues from the corpses and left the house.
He set a brisk pace towards The Whistler. He wasn't sure if he could convince all of the others to join him but he felt confident that Creighton would be interested in any opportunity to flex his muscles. But more than Creighton he hoped that Azareth would be persuaded to come along. Craven knew that this group - whoever they were - had one spellcaster working for them and it was possible that they could have another.
Outside, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon and the freshening wind would soon drive them towards Del Mord. It would be a poor night to be out on the road thought the young swordsman as he walked through the streets.
Once out through the High Quarter gate he jogged for much of the way. It was approaching midnight and Craven hoped that his three companions would be in their room. The traffic was light and Craven made good time. He reached The Whistler before the barman had called last drinks and made his way directly to their room.
| Craven | (entering the room) Ah, I'm glad you're all here. |
| Keldirk | Well if it isn't little lord fauntleroy - back from upper crusty ville. |
| Creighton | (to Keldirk) Shut up dickhead. |
| Craven | Is anyone interested in a little action tonight? |
| Creighton | I'm in. |
| Keldirk | (snorts) Got yourself into trouble eh? That'd be right... you come crawling to us to help get you out of a bind - as usual. |
| Azareth | (to Craven) What is going on? |
| Craven | An acquaintance of mine has a situation that could require a little muscle and I wondered if you might be interested. |
| Creighton | I'm in. |
| Craven | (smiles) I thought you might be, and I appreciate that but I am most interested in Azareth just now. |
| Creighton | (a little hurt) So you don't want me? |
| Craven | Of course I do, but its possible that there might be magic involved. |
| Keldirk | (laughs and points at Azareth) And you want him why? |
| Azareth | (ignores Keldirk) You had best explain the situation in more detail. |
Craven sat down and outlined the events of the previous day while Creighton worked on his longsword with a whetstone. Keldirk feigned disinterest but Craven had a feeling that the brash young thief was paying close attention to what was being said. When he had finished Creighton was firmly committed to lending his support.
| Azareth | I am loathe to get involved an another thing that might land us all in hot water. So far we have no connection to this and there is no reason for us to get involved. |
| Craven | (nods) True. And I am not here to convince you. If you want to help, fine, if not also fine. I am going in either case. It may turn out that there will be nothing for us to do. |
| Creighton | That's true, but we shouldn't undervalue having these prostitutes owing us a favour. |
| Craven | (looks at Creighton and raises an eyebrow) Very astute, Creighton. |
| Creighton | (smiles and taps his temple) It's not all washed away with drink just yet. |
| Azareth | (thinks for a moment) Very well. I will come along. And you, Keldirk? |
| Keldirk | Why not? I've got nothing better to do. |
| Craven | Good. I just need to change clothes, then let's get our equipment together and head off. |
The night was dark, ominous and oddly soundless, the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens. The wind had died and the constant fall of rain suppressed all but the sharpest of noises. The group passed along a singularly dreary tract of country and, at length, found themselves within view of the melancholy Derringsgate House.
Azareth could not explain the feeling but, with his first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded his spirit. He looked upon the scene before him - upon the house, and the simple landscape features of the domain - upon the blank walls - upon the vacant eye-like windows - upon a few white trunks of decayed trees – and was filled with an utter depression of soul that he could compare to no earthly sensation. There was an iciness, a sinking and sickening of the heart - an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could reshape into anything sublime. What was it, he thought, which so unnerved him about that house? It was a mystery that he could not immediately resolve and he was forced to conclude that it was this combination of simple natural objects had struck some chord of discontent in his psyche. Looking around at the others he saw he was not alone in this feeling, there was indeed something quite peculiar and depressing about this house, even Keldirk appeared reserved.
| Creighton | What a creepy looking place. |
| Azareth | (nods) I know what you mean, just looking at it gives me goosebumps. |
| Craven | There's a light on by the front door. |
| Keldirk | Well we're not getting any drier standing here. Let's go. |
| Azareth | I am not sure I want to proceed; I am overcome with an entirely uncomfortable foreboding. |
| Creighton | Don't worry, little buddy, it'll be fine. |
| Keldirk | (under his breath) Sure it will. |
Keldirk checked and rechecked the various daggers he had secreted on his person and wrapped his cloak about him tightly. He wasn't happy with Craven's decision to attempt to infiltrate the mansion with such a flimsy pretence. But Creighton and Azareth had agreed with Craven and Keldirk had little choice but to accede.
The group continued towards the doorway, each of them clutched their cloaks about them a little tighter as they neared the oppressive building. Lightning flashed in the sky above them and their ears were soon filled with the terrible crash of thunder, shattering the gloomy silence and adding to the general feeling of unease. In the distance they heard the fearful barking of lone dog followed by a series of others as they voiced their discomfort.
The lantern hung from a pole in a sheltered walkway that led to the door. Its wan light offered no feeling of warmth and served only as a tool for navigation. The front door was bound by iron but simple in its construction and showed signs of weakness due to age, as indeed did the rest of the house. A metal knocker adorned the centre of the door. Craven took a deep breath, looked at his companions in turn then rapped soundly on the door.
It was a couple of hours after midnight and the four assassins had to wait several minutes before the door opened. An extremely tall man, holding an oil-lamp, stood before them, a dim expression on his long, pale face.
| Man | (in a deep baritone) You knocked? |
| Craven | Ahem. Yes. I am terribly sorry to disturb you on a night such as this. My servants and I have had the misfortune of losing a wheel on our carriage and I was hoping I may beg for the hospitality of your household. My name is Lord Craven of Karaban and this is my archivist Azareth. My armsman Creighton stands to his left and the last fellow is my driver, Keldirk. |
| Man | I see. Where is your carriage? |
| Craven | A short ways down that lane. No more than two miles. (looks to Keldirk) |
| Keldirk | Nearer to three, milord. |
| Man | (looks the four newcomers over appraisingly) I will pass your request on to the Master of the House. In the meantime, please step inside and wait here 'til I return. |
| Craven | Thank you. |
The tall man opened the door fully and the assassins stepped inside. The interior was lavishly appointed, but decorated in a style that had long ceased to be fashionable. The black and white checked tiles led away from the door and opened into a large junction dominated by a marble staircase and an old, rusty suit of armour.
The tall man closed the door then, without a word, he ambled up the stairs taking the lamp with him. The only source of illumination was a three-pronged candelabra that burned at the head of the stairs.
| Keldirk | What now? |
| Craven | I don't know. We wait. |
| Keldirk | We wait? Tell me you're joking. |
| Craven | What would you prefer, we run around the house killing all we meet? |
| Creighton | I would. |
| Craven | No. If this proceeds as I expect we will be shown to a room. From there, in the dead of night, we can begin our search. |
| Azareth | Quiet. He returns. |
The light of the tall servant's lamp heralded his return long before his physical appearance. In time he stood before the assassins.
| Servant | Please, walk this way. The master will be with you presently. |
The assassins were led into a large lounge and watched as the seven foot tall servant struck a fire in the enormous hearth. As in the entrance to the house, this room was opulent but showed signs of neglect and age. The couches and carpets were musty and the decorations outdated and, oddly, inappropriate. The tall servant took their drenched cloaks, left them in the room, and closed the doors behind him.
| Creighton | Cheery fellow. |
| Azareth | What do you expect? It is the middle of the night, after all. |
They did not have to wait long. The doors opened and the tall servant stepped into the room, another man followed a step behind.
| servant | May I present Baron Krutoff, Lord of the Manor. This is Craven of Karaban and members of his household. |
Craven moved from the meagre warmth of the fire and stepped to greet their host. Baron Krutoff was a middle aged gentleman of curious appearance. He wore about his waist a filthy leather apron that had long since passed its usefulness. His hair was thinned and greying, and his eyes darted about the room disconcertingly. His hands were in constant motion, wringing and twitching nervously.
| Craven | (offers his hand) I humbly thank you for your hospitality, sir, and I apologise for the lateness of our arrival. But, sadly, matters are somewhat beyond my control. |
| Baron Krutoff | (waves Craven's hand away) Do not touch my hands! No one touches my hands. |
| Craven | (surprised, withdraws his hand) My apologies. You are a musician? |
| Baron Krutoff | (glances at a painting of a woman hanging above the fireplace and winces visibly) No, I am not a musician. (looks to his servant) Ll'hurch, I thought I instructed you to cover that painting. See that you do it on the morrow. |
| Ll'hurch | Of course, master. |
| Craven | (coughs uncomfortably) Yes. Perhaps, if there is nothing else, you could have your servant show us to our rooms? I am terribly tired after a long, uncomfortable journey and I am in desperate need of some sleep. |
| Baron Krutoff | (wipes a bead of sweat from his brow) All in good time. But, first a few ground-rules. This is an old house, Lord Craven, and there are many areas that are unsafe for the uninitiated. Please, ensure that you and your staff remain confined in your rooms. |
| Craven | But of course. A dry roof and a warm bed is all that I require. Thank you. If there is anything I can do in return please don't hesitate to ask. I am a wealthy man and would be more than happy to compensate you for your generous hospitality in my time of need. |
| Baron Krutoff | I appreciate your offer but all I ask is that you heed my wishes, for your own safety, if nothing else. |
| Keldirk | Safety? What is there to be wary of? |
| Baron Krutoff | (scowls) |
| Craven | Keldirk, please, remember your place. (to Baron Krutoff) I shall send my driver to town at daybreak. We should be gone by mid-morning. |
| Baron Krutoff | (nods, seemingly satisfied) I bid you good night. |
With a last, lingering glance at the portrait above the fireplace, Baron Krutoff departed the room. His servant remained behind and waited patiently by the door.
| Craven | Well, gentlemen, once you are warmed through we shall retire. |
After a short while by the fire Craven indicated his readiness to retire and Ll'hurch showed the four assassins to their rooms on the second floor. Craven was given a room to himself, as was Azareth, while Creighton and Keldirk were shown to a large room containing two beds. Craven had signalled, using the secret language of the thieves, that Keldirk should wait for an hour before making any move.
Craven climbed into bed, but remained clothed. As a Lord he was under no obligation to surrender his weapon and he checked the blade over in the dim light and waited.
Outside the storm gathered in force, lightning and thunder crashed with alarming frequency. Rain pelted on Craven's window and the wind banged the shutters mercilessly. Even if he was tired, Craven was certain he would have trouble getting even a wink of sleep.
The time passed quickly. Craven was still staring out the window when Keldirk opened the door to his room and stepped silently inside.
| Keldirk | The others are waiting. |
| Craven | I'm ready. |
Once in the hallway the group gathered about a handlamp and spoke in hushed tones.
| Azareth | What exactly are we looking for? |
| Craven | I'm not really sure. Anything to indicate what has happened to the missing girls, I suppose. |
| Creighton | Why don't we just grab the Crouton guy and beat the answers out of him? |
| Keldirk | It's got merit. |
| Craven | I'd like to look around first and get some idea of what, if anything, we are up against. This is a large house and there could be guards or magical wards that I'd rather we didn't stumble into. No, let's look around and see what we can learn. If we don't find anything we'll go with Creighton's plan. |
| Azareth | I must agree with Craven. There is no sense in us flailing about blindly, risking ourselves unnecessarily. |
| Keldirk | (snorts) This whole situation is unnecessary. |
| Creighton | But it might be fun. I wouldn't mind seeing that big guy up close and personal. |
| Craven | Let's give this level a quick search then go downstairs, my theory is that the missing girls are probably being held in a dungeon or cellar. |
| Azareth | This level appears largely unoccupied, the doors we passed looked to be in disrepair and that is hardly the environment to secure prisoners. |
| Keldirk | Who says that the whores are prisoners? They could be dead for all we know. |
| Azareth | Good point. |
The assassins searched the upper level quickly, quietly and efficiently. What surprised them was that the master bedroom, where they expected to find Baron Krutoff, was unoccupied. In fact the furniture was covered with large white sheets indicating that it had not been used for some time. Apart from the fifteen bedrooms they found a small sitting room and four bathrooms.
The group then proceeded downstairs and continued their search. They expected to find the servants quarters on this level so they were more conscious of keeping the noise down. Keldirk took the lead, checking each door in turn before signalling the others to follow.
It was a slow process, checking the many doors in turn and moving throughout the knick-knack filled corridors. The assassins identified three servants in total; the tall doorman, a gardener and a portly grey- haired lady whose room smelled of herbs and spices. Down a large corridor at the rear of the house the four adventurers discovered a concealed doorway behind which was a stone stair that spiralled down into darkness.
| Craven | Unless we've missed something I believe the Baron must sleep down here. And perhaps it is there we will find the missing girls. |
| Creighton | Maybe he uses the whores as his own, private harem. (shrugs) I suppose in the long run it would work out cheaper. |
| Craven | Shh. Keldirk, check it out. |
Keldirk opened his handlamp and allowed a meagre sliver of light to escape. He crept silently down the stairs, taking his time and being extra careful. Keldirk was fearful of magical traps and in situations such as this the usually hasty thief had all the patience of a library scribe.
The staircase descended perhaps forty feet and opened into a dimly lit stone-walled corridor. Two doors, one to either side of the stair, occupied the walls and the corridor continued on before rounding a corner. Keldirk shivered in the cold then padded up the stairs and signalled the others to follow.
Keldirk listened at both doors before checking them in turn. One was a well-stocked larder and the other a dusty wine-cellar. Closing the doors and indicating for the others to wait, Keldirk continued down the corridor.
Around the corner the corridor ended at a door. Nearby a large ceiling-to-floor length tapestry adorned one wall. Keldirk waved the others forward then padded down the corridor to the door. Stopping before he reached the level of the tapestry, the hypersensitive young assassin brushed his hair behind his ears, held his breath and listened intently. He heard the faint breathing of his companions twenty feet behind then, with a clarity that surprised him, he heard a female's cry - a sobbing intake of breath that Keldirk associated with a blocked or runny nose.
Swaying his head from side to side Keldirk determined that the source of the noise lay beyond the tapestry. Sliding a dagger from his boot, Keldirk carefully moved aside the tapestry and exposed a heavy, iron bound door set into the wall.
| Keldirk | (whispers) Bingo. |
Quickly and quietly Keldirk moved back to the others.
| Creighton | You heard something? |
| Keldirk | A female voice, crying I think. Behind the curtain is a door, the female is beyond. I will move forward and check the other door now, I imagine we'll find Krutoff's room inside. If I wave my lamp like this, then proceed. |
| Azareth | Perhaps we should check on the girl first? |
| Keldirk | Not bloody likely. The last thing I want is some hysterical woman bleating at the top of her lungs warning the household of our presence. No, we neutralise Krutoff first then check on the girl. |
| Craven | I agree. Do it. |
Keldirk returned to the exposed door at the end of the corridor, placed an ear on the woodwork and listened intently for several minutes. Satisfied, he signalled the others forward. Once his companions were behind him, Keldirk listened again then checked the door.
| Keldirk | (thieves cant) Locked. |
| Craven | (thieves cant) Me? |
| Keldirk | (nods) |
Craven examined the lock then withdrew two slender tools from his belt-pouch. Keldirk held his handlamp close and allowed the meagre light to shine on the lock. Craven squatted and set to work. It was a painstaking process, he had to work on the complex lock in near darkness all the while having to remain as quiet as possible. Each click and clank of his slender lockpicks sent the assassins' nerves on edge but, eventually, Craven rose from his haunches and nodded.
Shuffling around quietly, the assassins assumed their customary positions. Creighton would be first through the door, followed by Craven then Azareth, Keldirk had the rear. Creighton drew his sword, the sheepskin lining dulling most noise, then opened the door. At the same instant Azareth unshielded his lantern and the first three assassins entered the room.
Baron Krutoff was not an ordinary man. Those in high-society shunned him for his eccentricities and cruel, anti-social observations. After the death of his wife he retreated to his laboratory and immersed himself in his work. As a result he was exposed to strange potions, components and unguents which had magically heightened his senses to extra-ordinary levels. Not only was he aware of the assassins' presence, he had been aware for more than ten minutes and thus had ample time to prepare.
When the assassins burst into his room, they found him standing before them, his face a mask of brilliant insanity. Fearing that the newcomers had come to prevent the re-birth of his wife, Krutoff launched into a deadly attack.
Creighton all but froze in place when he saw that their target was prepared. He ducked to his left even as a small vial of powder crashed into the stonework above the door and exploded. Craven took the full brunt of the blast and was knocked to the floor, his head and shoulders blistering. Azareth stepped lightly over his fallen companion and began to cast. Moments later a series of magically charged bolts struck the Baron in the chest causing him to reel in pain.
Creighton steadied himself against the wall then charged towards the off-balanced Krutoff, his sword poised to strike. As quick as the hulking warrior was, Krutoff was quicker. With a deft flick of wrists, Krutoff let fly a small bag of powder at the approaching swordsman. The bag spun towards Creighton then tore open as the Baron yanked sharply on the cord that was tied to the end of the bag. Creighton couldn't halt his rush and stepped into the cloud of brightly coloured dust before emerging coughing, spluttering and feeling lethargic. A heartbeat later the warrior felt his limbs stiffen then he collapsed to the floor, frozen in a strange paralysis.
From the doorway Keldirk flung several knives at the surprisingly agile Baron, one of which struck him in his hand. The pain from his wound caused the Baron to drop a crystal vial at his feet which exploded into a sizzling and spluttering cloud of noxious fumes.
Baron Krutoff stepped back and looked at Keldirk with an unnervingly neutral expression.
Keldirk spun on his heels, but was a heartbeat too slow. Ll'hurch, the Baron's tall manservant, stepped into the room from the corridor and struck Keldirk a solid blow in the head with a clenched fist. The assassin crumpled to the ground, momentarily stunned.
| Baron Krutoff | Ll'hurch, it seems our guests are displeased with their accommodations. Be a good fellow and find them some more appropriate lodgings. |
| Ll'hurch | Very good sir. |
Ll'hurch lunged into the room and grabbed Azareth about the waist. With a strength that matched his height, the Baron's massive manservant thrust the mage into the air, cracking his skull on the stone ceiling. Then, allowing Azareth to fall to the floor, he spun on his heel and struck Keldirk on the back of his head as the young assassin struggled to rise. In one swift movement, the tall baritone swept up Azareth and Keldirk and left the room.
Craven looked up from his prostrate position and shook his head in disbelief. Stung into action, Craven pushed the pain from his injuries out of his mind and ordered his limbs into action. Drawing his sabre and rapier the brilliant duellist flipped onto his feet and attacked the Baron. But just as he lunged he felt a sharp pain in his side. Pulling back defensively Craven saw a large chef's knife sticking out of the narrow gap between his leather armour and belt. His quick jolt had obviously torn the weapon from the elderly cook's hand leaving the portly woman unarmed.
| Craven | (pulls the knife out) Ouch! |
| cook | Leave my Lordship alone. |
| Craven | Not bloody likely. |
The young duellist lashed out and slid his sabre expertly across the cook's neck. Craven turned away not even bothering to watch the dead woman fall.
| Craven | Now, Baron, where did you get to? |
Across the large room, near a massive four-posted bed, Baron Krutoff stood. Upon the bed he had emptied the contents of a drawer and was sifting through a number of bottles and bags that had piled onto his bed- clothes.
Hurdling Creighton's stiff body, Craven bound forward. He knew that he must kill and kill quickly, he did not fancy falling victim to yet another of the Baron's strange alchemical concoctions.
Outside, Ll'hurch lumbered with the limp forms of Azareth and Keldirk. While Azareth was comatose and totally unaware of his surroundings, the fog had begun to lift from behind Keldirk's eyes. The rhythmic jostling of Ll'hurch's long stride and the cold of the rain helped Keldirk wake. Still, the crack to his skull had left him more dazed and confused than he had been before. He was barely aware of his predicament; he knew that he was being carried outside but he couldn't fathom by who or to where.
Keldirk's head lolled from side to side, at one point he passed by a stable and saw a man saddling a horse. He knew that somehow that information was important, but he couldn't understand why. Moments later both he and Azareth were dropped on the sodden dirt, alongside what Keldirk recognised as a blue-stone well. Luckily Keldirk had been placed on his back, and the rain on his face further served to clear his head. He watched with detached fascination as the huge figure of Ll'hurch removed the cover to the well, then lift Azareth up and move to drop the stricken mage into the well.
Keldirk reacted on instinct. Before he realised what he was doing he had snatched two knives from his bandolier, rose to his knees and plunged them in the Ll'hurch's lower back. The blades bit deep and Ll'hurch arched back in agony and dropped Azareth onto the stone wall of the well. Keldirk fell back as the giant man turned, and drew two more knives.
Ll'hurch glared at Keldirk and moved to crush the skull of his insolent assailant with his heel. But for all of Ll'hurch's prodigious strength Keldirk had speed and cunning of his side. The wily young assassin flung two knives, rolled to his left and brought his legs together in a scissoring action that cut Ll'hurch's feet from under him.
The giant man tumbled.
Keldirk was on him in an instant and repeatedly stabbed Ll'hurch's cavernous chest in a savage attack born from desperation and fear.
Inside the Baron's bedroom things had become confusing. The Baron grabbed a number of the ceramic vials from his bed and cast them onto the floor. As each one cracked and released their contents a strange cloud rose. Soon the clouds intermingled, the resultant fog grew and obscured the room in a kaleidoscope of colours.
Craven took a deep breath before the cloud reached him then closed his eyes knowing that he would have to rely on his attuned sense of hearing to locate his enemy.
For all of the Baron's problems stupidity was not among them. He was a long advocate for the adage live to fight another day. He realised that he would be no match for a trained warrior so he skulked around the room towards the door. Unfortunately for the Baron that was precisely where Craven had moved.
Craven's keen hearing picked out the Baron's stealthy approach and he held his weapons in check until the last possible moment. Then, in a flurry of steel, Craven struck the Baron in a series of savage cuts and thrusts, spilling the nobleman's lifeblood onto the floor.
Craven rolled the Baron's corpse aside then opened the door and allowed the fog to dissipate. Within a few minutes Craven had dragged Creighton out of the room and back down the corridor. He quickly checked his fallen comrade and could detect no physical injury. The sound of approaching footsteps put the swordsman on alert and he spun around to confront the new arrival.
| Keldirk | We have to get out of here. |
| Craven | What's the rush? |
| Keldirk | Someone's taken a horse and gone to town. I can only guess that they've gone to get help. |
| Craven | The Baron's dead so I guess our job's done. Where's Azareth? |
| Keldirk | Outside, he'll live. |
| Craven | Help me get this big bastard outside, he's heavy. |
Together, Craven and Keldirk half dragged half carried Creighton's unmoving form to the well where Azareth sat, rubbing his head in pain.
| Craven | Can you walk? |
| Azareth | With a little help. |
| Craven | Okay then, let's head home. |
Two nights after the assassins returned to the city, Craven sat with Kazza and enjoyed a fine meal and good wine in one of Del Mord's more prestigious restaurants. The pair chatted for a while before the topic of conversation turned towards the events of the past few days.
| Kazza | I've heard that the investigators completed their search of the Baron's premises this morning. |
| Craven | Oh, yes? I've been trying to find out what was going on up there but the city watch have the place locked down pretty tight. |
| Kazza | (nods) You must remember that I have access to a wide range of information. Some of the people I see like to talk in bed. (smiles) |
| Craven | I see. Who is your contact? |
| Kazza | (winks) The names of my clients are not for public consumption. But suffice it to say that he was intimately involved in the search of Krutoff's mansion. |
| Craven | What did they find? |
Kazza looked down and swirled the glass in her hand, watching the blood-red wine spin in the glass. A sadness crossed her face before she looked up.
| Kazza | It is horrible Craven. Almost unspeakable. |
| Craven | Take your time. Another drink? |
| Kazza | Thank you. |
Craven filled Kazza's glass and waited until she regained her composure. Craven enjoyed Kazza's company and knew that the diminutive prostitute was hurting. After a few minutes Kazza spoke.
| Kazza | The Baron lost his wife a few years ago to the wasting-sickness. He took it hard. By all accounts the Baron and his wife were very much in love. His friends took care of him for a while but before long the invitations stopped arriving and Krutoff found himself alone, isolated and unloved. It seems the Baron's popularity was due, in the most part, to the fine breeding of his wife. |
| Craven | I'm not surprised. The man seemed a little unbalanced. |
| Kazza | Insane would be more accurate. (looks to Craven, a tear in her eye) He took the prostitutes, Craven. Kidnapped them. And took them back to his mansion. I suppose he thought no body would notice if a few hookers went missing. |
| Craven | (nods) |
| Kazza | And he killed them. Butchered them. Cut them up. My client believes that Krutoff was trying to re-create his wife. He used their body parts and sewed them together. In a room below the mansion the city watchmen discovered a partially constructed woman, stitched together, mix and matched like a children's toy. What body parts he didn't want or couldn't use, he threw down a well. (shudders) They found one of the missing girls alive down in his basement. She was near the end of her tether and was barely able to tell them her name when they found her. |
| Craven | How revolting. |
| Kazza | And, to make matters worse, this new wife of his was nearly finished. (shakes her head) After he finished with the girl in the basement... I might have been next. |
| Craven | (takes her hand) Well it's over now. The Baron won't be hurting anyone anymore. |
| Kazza | Thanks to you. |
| 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. |