((We've had some new people join up lately, so I thought i would give them the chance to get involved with something more than the Tavern, should they wish to. Open to others as well if they want to meet the new folks.))
::Night had fallen long ago, and with it the crowds that normally filled the area around the docks were gone. Silence reigned as nothing seemed to be about except the wharf rats picking at the dregs left by the merchants the day before. Well nothing except you of course. Perhaps you enjoy the night. The solitude. Perhaps you couldn't sleep or are returning home from a night of drinks at the local Inn. Perhaps none of these, but whatever the reason you find yourself walking the docks when you hear the sound muffled thud of something hard hitting something soft. So faint at first you think it nothing at all, but then you hear it again... and again...
The sound seems to be coming from a nearby alley...::
Silent as a shadow on padded feet...
Daisy [M:15:0:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=cs&action=display&thread=746]"I kill for fun and profit. What's your excuse?"
Yesterday she'd been dog tired. Tonight Daisy was restless, aimless, rambling; and she had no good reason to be. She had a goal, but she'd done nothing actually productive to get her any closer to it. She was procrastinating. Or maybe she was trying to sabotage her own efforts? There was certainly a large enough part of her that felt certain all she knew, all she would ever know, was violence; and she might as well get back to it now instead of wasting time trying to change something that was simply meant to be.
It was dark. It had been for a while. There was no good reason for her not to go back to her little rented room and go to sleep. Except there was also no good reason for her TO go back to her little rented room and go to sleep. All that meant was she'd wake in the morning to probably repeat what she'd done today. What was this inertia that felt like it had such a hold on her? She had no word for it, but it made her feel heavy, and it seemed to dull her wits.
She shook her head to try and clear it. Maybe she could find some impetus to action in the morning. But she wasn't tired enough to forcefully summon sleep to her. So she kept walking, and her feet brought her down by the water.
She stood for some time and looked out on the seemingly endless expanse of inky dark ocean. The first time she heard the sound she wasn't even sure she'd actually heard anything. Then she heard it again, and again.
Hmph. A woman, alone, down by the docks, middle of the night, with only one of her war hammers and no armor; going to investigate a strange sound coming from nearby. What could possibly go wrong?
She _should_ just leave it be. For all she knew someone was beating out a rug. But what was left of her conscience nagged at her. It had been getting better at that lately. For all she knew someone was being beaten, robbed, or worse.
She really shouldn't care.
It certainly wasn't anybody she knew.
Dammit.
Her hand rested on the haft of her hammer and she went to investigate.
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.
::As Daisy nears the opening to the alley, she can begin to make out muffled cries of pain that accompany each blow. There also is the sound of quiet sobbing that seems to be coming from someone else.
There is a grunt of effort as if someone moving something heavy and the sound of cloth ripping...
This brings a pause in the steady thuds she had been hearing as a hushed voice takes its place.::
"Oy! Rut! What're you doin'? Piper din't tell us to do nuthin to the wife!"
"Spit on Piper and what he wants. I'm a man now, with a man's needs. 'Sides. Maybe seein' his good wife havin' a bit a fun might make him more willin' to get with the program."
((Still open to anyone that "happens by"))
Silent as a shadow on padded feet...
Daisy [M:15:0:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=cs&action=display&thread=746]"I kill for fun and profit. What's your excuse?"
Daisy's jaw clenched and she had to strangle the immediate impulse to go careening into the alleyway to kill anything that moved. She remained in control, if just barely. There was red tinting the edge of her world, and she was smiling. It was an expression that was all teeth and predatory leer.
A small part of her examined the situation with a detached calm, and noted, purely for reference, that she had only been in town for a day and already she was planning on killing someone. The fact they obviously deserved a permanent dirt nap was irrelevant. It seemed violence was an inevitable occurrence when she was anywhere near people.
The part of her that was actually calling the shots knew it was a good idea to creep to the alleyway entrance, to take stock of the situation before acting. She was no thief, but she had some hunting experience, and she wore nothing that would make errant noise. Her quarry seemed focused on what it was doing. With luck, they wouldn't know she was there until she fell on them like the fist of an angry god.
She moved as silently as she knew how; and all the while anticipation built within. It boiled and bubbled, yanked at her like an angry dog on a chain, and made her skin feel hot. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, to take pleasure in such an act. But knowing so had never stopped her before.
Besides, these men surely deserved it.
Her hands tightened on the haft of her hammer, and she trembled, not with fear, but the joy of giving herself over to the aberrant bliss of killing.
Just as soon as she knew exactly what was going on in the alley.
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.
::Peeking around the corner, Daisy can see figures illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. If these were men, they were small men.
There were two of them holding a man on his knees, one on either arm. Despite the fact that the prisoner was kneeling, the ones holding him were standing straight, their arms both wrapped tight around each of his and held tight to their chests as their prisoner tried to surge to his feet in the direction of more figures in the back...
A third short person stood before this group, his head turned further down the alley, a length of wood in his hand that appeared to be a pin from one a number of ships that pass through the docks on their way to various locations around the world. As the man tries to rise, the armed figure turns back and thrusts the tip of the baton into the prisoners stomach and the air leaves his lungs with a great huff and he drops back to his knees.
"Bestya stay down, mate. Don' want ya to hurt yoself no more."
The voice cracked as he spoke, moving between the low tones of a man and that of a...boy?
Behind all this, in the direction the figure with the baton had been looking at first, were two more people. A man...yes this one was definatly a man, he was much taller than the others...stood over a woman. She had been shoved over some crates in the alley and her dress was torn away to reveal her undergarments. She was sobbing and trying to get up, but each time she did the man would shove her back down with one hand. The other was busy at his waist, trying to untie the knotted rope he was using for a belt...
"I said leave 'er alone, Rut. Piper don' like rapers. 'member what 'appened to Lil Jim?" Said the figure with the baton...
"Mind yer business! What he don't know wont hurt me." Came the reply from the man looming over the woman in the back.
Silent as a shadow on padded feet...
Daisy [M:15:0:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=cs&action=display&thread=746]"I kill for fun and profit. What's your excuse?"
The raging angry part of her snarled in defiance as the thinking part of Daisy's brain reigned it further in. She'd gladly leap into two on one odds any day of the week, twice on weekends, but the odds were nothing like that. It looked like there were at least four aggressors at the end of the alley. The two holding the man's arms looked like dwarves or midgets, hell they could be leprechauns for all she could tell right now. But just because they were small didn't mean they were any less dangerous. The one in front of the man seemed a bit larger than the other two. But his voice cracked, like a child.
Were the first two even younger? Did it matter? Old enough to do the crime, old enough to do the time. But her conscience nagged. Maybe. Maybe they were coerced. Maybe they simply knew no better. Hard conditions lead to hard people.
Damn.
The last though was obvious, and there was no way she was going to let him out of the alley unscathed, or get any closer to the woman. But the situation called more for thought first before she started cracking skulls open.
Chances she could talk her way through the whole thing? Almost none. Chances she could feed them a line long enough to get close to the one called Rut and split his skull like an over ripe melon? Pretty good.
She stepped into the alley purposefully stomping her boots onto the ground and entering whatever light was available, making her entrance as painfully obvious as possible. She did her best to project every iota of barely contained rage and tightly leashed violence into the way she walked and her voice.
Her words were growled, terse, and clipped like a whip crack. "Rut! You should know Piper has eyes and ears everywhere. What I know, Piper knows. And I. Will. Hurt. You. Get away from the wife."
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.
::The three assailants closest to her just about jumped out of their skin at her sudden appearance. The two holding the man dropped his arms and backed away, looking about in every direction for a way out. Now that Daisy was closer, she could see they were not midgets or dwarves, but children. Dressed in rags and not even old enough to shave. Had it not been for the fight being beaten out of their prisoner, there is no doubt they would not have had the strength to hold him.
The one holding the wooden club spun and dropped his club before scrambling to pick it back up. He was older than the first two, early teens maybe, and dressed similarly.::
"Oy! Who're you? I don' 'member seein' you afore..."
::The one in the back was the oldest, the thin wisps of facial hair that only the really young find pride in on his face. He turned as well to face Daisy as the woman tried to slip off the crate behind him with frightened looks at everyone. The thug standing before her drew a knife from his belt that looked like it had come from a kitchen and waved it menacingly...::
"That's cuz she ain't one of us, you idjit. She's too old."
"Bu...But what if she's right, Rut? P...P...Piper c...could be watchin'" Said the one with the club as he began making frantic glances to the rooftops...
Silent as a shadow on padded feet...
Daisy [M:15:0:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=cs&action=display&thread=746]"I kill for fun and profit. What's your excuse?"
Daisy was utterly undeterred, and took long anger powered strides towards the one named Rut. Hopefully she'd be within striking distance before things could go wrong. If he took the woman hostage...
She had to keep them believing she worked with this Piper person, or at least confused about whether she might; long enough to make an example of Rut. Her nerves were singing with the anticipation of the hot rush that always accompanied the killing. She wanted to watch his life end, freeze the moment in time in her mind's eye and roll in it like a cat at the nip.
And her conscience was disgusted with herself. She didn't have to kill him. There were other ways.
But if he didn't put that knife down...
Her voice was still a growl of barely fettered fury. "No. You haven't seen me before, and if you are very lucky you will never see me again. You spend every minute of every day with Piper? You think you know every in and out of his mind? I think not."
She pointed to the young trio. "You three. Leave. Now. Go to Piper and tell him why I had to intervene here."
She raised her war hammer to Rut. "Rut. You have three seconds to put that knife away or you'll leave this alley as a corpse."
There was any number of details she didn't know that could scuttle her bluff; not least of which was this Piper person could be a she. Still, it was preferable to violence, even if her blood was screaming for brutality.
No.
They were children.
Except for Rut. He might still end up in a pine box.
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.
The voice echoed through out the alleyway, giving it an undeniable omnipresent feel. The shadows cast by the pale light of the moon seemed to waver and shudder as the sound of deep tone of it, almost as if the darkness felt inferior to the call of the man. Shortly after the statement was made the light seemed to bend, as if the moon itself had developed a sense of fear.
Almost as fast as the man spoke the gleam of a blade was pressed against Rut's throat. It was hard to discern who the man was being a cowl was drawn over his face, but the young men seemed to know who he was. Rut squirmed in his grasp but was brought to heel swiftly with another press of the blade against his throat, this time a thin line of crimson adorned his dirty neck. The other boy took a step back nearly stumbling muttering incoherently but a few words managed to escape after he plopped on his rear from stumbling on the merchant.
The boy was silenced by a simple turn of the man's head.
"I know, I have been here the whole time after all. You both should well know I can appear whenever I please. I would recommend you speak when you have gathered your wits, I haven't the patience for your stuttering as it makes for tedious listening."
He looked back to Rut, holding him still by his neck and blade.
"I should kill you. I want to kill you. However, I will not, but I warn you now; If I happen upon something akin to this again it will be your blood I spill to fill the gutters."
Rut immediately started rambling apologies and swears of never doing it again. The shadowed man did draw that blade back, but before releasing the boy he left a memento by means of a gash across his cheek. Rut howled in pain as that blade dragged gently and effortlessly across his cheek. He was soon on his hands and knees as the man shoved him down to the ground.
"That scar will never fade. Go back home, it would be wise for you not to roam this night further."
The man commanded, as Rut disappeared into the night. The other boys however yet remained. They had since gotten up, and no longer showed abject horror towards the man standing there blade still drawn. The blade was soon sheathed, and as the sound of the hilt hitting hitting the scabbard he was gone, just like that. Vanished.
"An who might you be who claims to know of Piper?"
Came his voice again, this time behind Daisy.
Last Edit: Mar 28, 2013 10:37:28 GMT -5 by Raevarin
If you sought to live you had naught but run and hide yourself away, but when the weak court death.....they find it. If you wish to challenge me, I will allow it. The choice falls not unto me or to the whims of fate, Tis your alone.
::From out of the shadows in the direction Rut had run came a soft thud before the manboy's body came tumbling back into sight. He lay there limp at first, and one could easily have thought him dead in the faint light before he started to stir and try to rise only to be forced back to the ground as a gust of wind blew at the hems of clothes and cloaks.::
"I wuz just thinkin' the same thing myself...Mr. Dark is it?
Pleasure to meet ya, mate. Been 'earin' 'bout you 'round town."
::There was a small flare of flame in those shadows that illuminated a dark furred face. The flames turned to the soft glow of embers as a red-headed Cathian stepped into view taking a draw from a long pipe. He was dressed in rags like the children, dusty and dirty from life on the streets and below. He walked with a limp and a sharp creak from the brace on his leg. He looked to not have a care in the world as he motioned to the remaining children.::
"Run back 'ome, little Rats, and let us grown folks 'ave a bit o' chat."
::The words were barely out of his mouth before the two youngest bolted like startled deer into the night. The last hesitated just a bit...::
"I done told 'im not to do it, Piper. I swear!"
"I know, Bran. You did good." The Cathian replied with an easy smile.
::The boy, for that's all he really was, smiled at what he saw as kind words and took pride both in the compliment and the fact that the man knew his name. With a nod he too bolted off into the darkness.::
"Now, Dearie...who might you be and what do you know of Piper?"
Daisy's rage and wanton blood lust were rather suddenly cowed by the appearance of the creature the children called Mr Dark. And she thought of him as a creature not because of the way he seemed to appear and disappear at will; which was bad enough. He could have that knife buried in her guts before she knew it was happening. No, it was the sense of otherworldly power making the hackles on the back of her neck stand on end. Even if he was still technically human, a person didn't wield that sort of power and remain a man.
She suppressed the urge to spin like a top when his voice and the question came from behind her. She had no sense of his presence except as it seemed to pervade the whole of the alley. That unnerved her further. Survival instincts began to kick in.
Do not run from a predator, it only encourages them to give chase.
Better think quick.
She hefted the war hammer reminding herself of it's existence in her hand and wished for the familiar weight of her mail.
A little voice took great delight in reminding her of her earlier thought : what could possibly go wrong?
Well, she was alone, in an alley, with a beaten man and his half hysterical wife. The thing called Mr Dark was looming... somewhere near. Maybe it was behind her, maybe not.
Then there was the thud and the motionless body of Rut was back in the alley. For a moment she thought he was dead, and good riddance; but then he stirred only to be held down by a very peculiar wind. It was a wind so peculiar it could only be magic.
She assumed the source of that wind was the cathian that made his presence known; the cathian named Piper if she heard the middle child correctly. Well, that more than certainly put the kibosh on her bluff.
Alone. Alley. Man and Wife. Magic wielding invisible thing called Mr Dark. Magic wielding cathian called Piper who seemed to be the head of some sort of child gang.
She was out of her depth.
And she'd been running off at the mouth with a bluff those two were both interested in.
This was another one of those times when she should probably be afraid. But she wasn't, or if she was she wasn't aware of it. She'd lived most of her youth in the grip of that emotion; so much so she'd abandoned it as an adult. She simply refused to acknowledge it's existence anymore.
She looked Piper square in the eyes, her voice calmer now, steady; and decided to answer with carefully guarded honesty until she could figure a way out of this. Maybe she could turn the two on each other long enough to slip away unnoticed.
"Me? I'm a nobody. A nobody that hates rapists and would be less kind to that scum than you've been. You're a cathian whom I doubt is as crippled as he looks. I also doubt this is the first you've seen of this Mr Dark fellow. You wield magic. You command children to shake people down. I don't like you."
She couldn't quite keep the contempt out of her voice, even though she tried. Using children as criminal tools; it wasn't quite as bad as some of the things she'd done, but still, it wasn't any good.
She just might be digging a hole here though.
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.
'Mr.Dark' turned his head at the Cathian's response. He half huffed half grunted. That was the only response he gave to Piper. He turned his cowled head back to Daisy, curious if anything of the young woman.
"Straight to the point, someone has spunk. I like that, it is always good to someone who is aware that death looms ever so if one make but a simple slight and err in actions."
He spoke again, his voice having a chilling mocking tone. From what Daisy had gathered and assumed who she faced was not human by any standard. To her he was a perversion of nature it self, and she was correct to assume so. He looked back to Piper, placing a hand on the hilt of the sword he had brandished against Rut, though in no threatening manner, just a place to rest his hand.
"Then you have heard correctly. No doubt first word of me was by Tilley, your newly blind girl. Unfortunate what happened but she lived due to my intervention. If I recall Bran was there as well, the boy has spirit I will give him that."
For a second the cold and calculating tone of voice dissipated on the mention of Tilley. It had almost seemed as if he genuinely pitied the girl. He turned back to Daisy and took a step forward.
"But worry not, you are not in any danger from me this night, at least not yet. Killing you would carry no remorse, but I have other things to do than kill hapless interlopers."
He sidestepped and walked past her, an unnatural chill permeated the man as if death itself took stride behind him. However Daisy would notice something odd as he passed. It was his smell. She did not smell the stench of street or sweat and leather as he walked by. No. It was sweet, an oxymoron in nature.
He smelt of flowers. It was very faint but it was there, he smelled of cherry blossoms as if fresh bloomed in the summer. He knelt down by the merchant, and re-struck his torch. As it lit it seemed as though the flame dancing atop the stick wanted to leap right off to evade the man kneeling in it's dim light. He stood and walked over to his wife, she was trying to crawl away from him but it was no use. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet. He lifted his hand and placed it on her forehead and she collapsed in his embrace. As the merchant stood in a hasty manner the man known as Mr. Dark hoisted the woman onto the merchant's shoulder.
"She will not trouble you on your venture back to your home. I implore you to take her immediately, I tire of the sight of both of you."
The malice returned at that point. The merchant nodded and returned to the cart that had been waylaid by the three street rats. He brought the horses to heel and trotted off in the night.
If you sought to live you had naught but run and hide yourself away, but when the weak court death.....they find it. If you wish to challenge me, I will allow it. The choice falls not unto me or to the whims of fate, Tis your alone.
He'd watched just about long enough. The goings on below had changed direction a half dozen times by now and whilst watching was generally the best way to get a grasp on a situation, Kiga couldn't help but acknowledge that the woman was in imminent danger. He'd found Piper, a task which proved too hard, too often. He had a large problem with that one and was eager to put his charade to a permanent end. He didn't like the look of this 'Mr Dark' either. He seemed familiar, the worst kind of familiar. The woman, he didn't know. Not yet. She had to be new in town.
But regardless, he wasn't going to remain quite any longer.
Kiga only rose to his feet. The shadows had clung to him very well on his perch and he'd avoided detection until this moment, but standing presented him to the moon's light and the shadows slowly shrank back from his form. Now he stood at the roof's edge, about half way between the participants below, his hood and mask revealing nothing but the glare of Orlune's light as it caught his normal eye.
They didn't know him, so his emotionless words would certainly not confuse them. He was cold and uncaring, simply because he was working. Whilst the words may have a hint of humor on another day, they were simply an interruption now.
"A woman, a cat and a monster. This reminds me of a joke I once heard."
The wind stirred, tugging at his scarf and hood, whipping dust and leaves past him and over the edge of the roof. Somewhere far away behind them, came a whistle. A fraction of a moment later came another, in the opposite direction. Kiga folded his arms.
::Piper watched as "Mr. Dark" loaded up the Merchant and his wife as he continued to draw on his pipe and let the smoke out in long slow exhales.::
"Well, THAT just saved me some trouble. Tho I suppose I should still send them a bit o gold for the trouble my associate caused.
See, "Miss Nobody", you ain't the only one who 'ates rapers. It is somethin' we forbid as it just spreads the problem with this town to a whole nother generation. And that is why I will be takin' Master Rut back to Macavity, and this will be the last bit o' "adventure" 'e will ever be capable of. Be sure that it will be a 'arsher fate then what "Mr. Dark" was willing to give."
::At the mention of "Macavity", Rut began to fight frantically against the wind holding him down, his eyes wide in horror from the tales he had heard, but he could not break free. Piper continued to speak as if nothing was happening.::
"'Mr. Dark' 'ere likes to think I should be grateful for the blind girl 'e sent to me, when truthfully, if 'e were as good as 'e claims, she wouldn't 'ave been 'urt at all.
And 'onestly, I don't care whether you like me or not, ma'am. We give these children somethin' they would never 'ave 'ad without us. A life. We teach them to survive. Without us, they would die in a gutter with empty stomaches. You're world turned it's back on them and we take them in. Or would you prefer they die alone and starvin' to better suit you're 'ideals'?"
::It's at this time that Kiga appears on the rooftop, and while it may come as a surprise to those within the alley, Piper doesn't look shocked at all. Whether this is a feint, or somehow he really knew, one could not say...::
"Well, I see the Boy Wonder 'as arrived..."
Silent as a shadow on padded feet...
Daisy [M:15:0:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=cs&action=display&thread=746]"I kill for fun and profit. What's your excuse?"
The man and his wife appeared to be out of any immediate danger. Which meant the alley was full of folks Daisy couldn't presently care less about. Folks who all seemed to be more than capable of picking their own battles; well except for Rut. She wanted to seal his fate herself, but it appeared Piper meant to take that out of her hands. Then he got on to talking about the "life" he was giving to the children he exploited and her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits while the anger flared again. She paid little heed to the sudden appearance of the newcomer, though it did make her scowl. Just how many people were going to show up in this alley before the night was said and done?
This time she made no effort to mask the pure contempt in her voice.
"You give them nothing. You exploit them. You train them to be thieves and thugs. And when they get too old, or more to the point, old enough to think for themselves and perhaps threaten your position, you're rid of them. You turn hardened criminals loose on society as a whole. Or do you just kill them when you're done with them? If you cared you'd build an orphanage. You'd work with the guilds to get them apprenticed and taught a trade. They'd have clothes on their backs and smiles in their eyes instead of rags and violence. You're the worst kind of cowardly predator, preying on the weakest and most vulnerable."
Her rage was visibly building with every word, and the grip she had on her hammer was approaching white knuckle.
"And don't you dare talk about my 'world' and 'ideals'. You don't have the first clue where I come from or the things I've done. I've carved out a life steeped in nothing but violence. I've murdered, maimed, and burned by way through the world. I'm trying very hard not to be that person anymore. But you. You're an unrepentant stain on everything. You are intolerable. You must be ended."
At the last her anger and blood lust boiled over to a point where she was either unwilling or unable to contain it anymore and she attacked Piper. She sprung at him with the ferocity of a feral cat, her overture of violence fueled by her rage and perhaps somewhere some measure of self loathing and a streak of self destruction. Her hammer drove through the air in a great scything arc aimed at Piper's head. The newcomer and Mr Dark were left as only side notes in her mind. All that mattered was destroying Piper.
"Murder" and "Justice" imply "moral judgements" based on nothing more than how the majority of people feel about the taking of another's life. I don't concern myself with such things; they're too subjective. Whether or not there's gold in my pocket is what matters.