Chapter 6: Nothing but trouble with those Estalians...

Six months passed by in the blink of an eye, Ras continuing his skills in the art of thievery, Jormund becoming a stern interrogator and somewhat of an expert on anatomy. Goran continued to increase his holdings with his business, allowing himself to freely spend money without feeling the pinch. Armand spending much of his time travelling to The Helmsman, Bernhardt having taken up residence there, allowing Armand to learn from him for a price, learning the art of firearms as well as increasing his prowess with his blade.

Another curios occurrence, Ras and Goran were spending more and more time together, separate from the others, making plans and plotting in quiet shadows, something remaining hidden from Jormund and Armand.

As the crew outfitted themselves with sturdier weapons and armour, the taste in their mouths was getting dry, the last six months causing them to grow weary as very little of profit or excitement seemed to be passing their way.

Rumours had begun to circulate around the guild, spurrings of Estalian brutes terrorising businesses along the main areas of the Riddra and Stoessel districts of Suiddock. Titus had been hearing these rumours for some time, business owners paying the guild for protection, now also paying to be left alone by the foreign thugs. Applying pressure to his lieutenants, Oldrik and Willem taking the brunt of the verbal assault.

The Captains

The rumours causing more frustration than actual financial burden, the annoyance causing Titus to feel as though he was losing face in the eyes of his subordinates.
It did not take long for Rikkert to put the crew into action, as one of the only Estalians in the employ of the thieves guild, Armand would at least be able to identify new comers from his old neighbourhood in the area. Moving from business to business in the areas known to have been hit by the new brutes, Ras and Jormund led the interrogation of business owners. Several small shops portraying the same story, pay or suffer violence, descriptions of Estalians led by a truly giant individual. Returning to the Gentleman’s Club, Titus was not impressed by the scattered nature of the information being gathered, no one knew where the brutes were based, and patterns they followed, or even laid attentive eyes on them. Frustrated, Titus gave instructions to enlist the assistance of a group known as “The Captains”, street children who formed their own information gathering network. If anyone knew anything regarding these foreigners, surely The Captains would know.

Meeting with the captains was not easy, Titus giving the crew directions to a general store in Southbank. Discussion the business they were on as from Titus, Ras, Goran, Jormund and Armand were escorted through the back of the store to a small space not unlike the Gentleman’s Club, only smaller, as if for smaller occupants. Sitting around the room where approximately 20 to 30 children, the oldest being in their mid-teens, the youngest barely seven years old. Goran being the expert on dealing with children to the rest of the crew as he had been dealing with the street urchins to watch his business, negotiated six of the Captains to monitor the areas around Suiddock and report every second day. The Captains were not cheap, however if it would ease the mind of Titus, the crew did not mind.

Night came fast, Rikkert summoned the four men to join Titus and himself to a meeting. Titus was dressed in his finest, Rikkert however was the same as he always was. Ras, Goran, Armand and Jormund were all in their usual attire, not on a mission to impress anyone. Titus led the bunch through Stoessel and then into Luydenhoek, the largest island of Suiddock, an area pretty unknown to Rikkert's crew. Whispers between Ras and Goran included Rikkert who made mention that the group were headed to Potion Square, across the Poultice water and close to the Temple of Shallyah. The current on the canal was smooth, however the four had to take several looks at multiple establishments as they entered the square. The largest building, the Shallyan temple, flanked by all manner of shops, from tavern to boot makers. Titus ignored their stammering feet and desire to stop and stare, pushing the crew to move forward, entering a large tavern named “The Long Dragon”, this was the headquarters of Grossbart. Titus told the crew to remain in the large open bar, men of all nations scattered around the tables, Reiklanders, Kislevites, many who seemed to have no distinction.

Looking to the balcony above the bar, Rolf, the silent watcher from the meeting that saw the crew enter the thieves guild waited for Titus to ascend the stairs.
Rikkert and Titus met Rolf on the balcony and were quickly escorted around the interior of the tavern and into a room off to the side. Sitting at a table close to the door, Ras, Jormund, Armand and Goran took their position, Goran always gripping the hilt of his sword, Armand doing the same.

Fredje Gustaaf

A doorway on the far side of the bar opened frequently, a poorly lit backdrop of red shadows could be seen as men stumbled in and out of the door. It was clear that this tavern adjoined to something less than scrupulous. As Jormund enjoyed the beverage he was drinking, Boekbier, as close as man could make to Dwarven ale, A monster of a man emerged from the dimly lit room. At least six and a half feet tall, scarred and mangled features took sight of the four strangers sitting at the table.

Ordering a round of drinks, the large man took a seat next to Goran, extending a hand in friendship. The man was well spoken for someone who appeared so rough on the outside. Explaining that he worked for the establishment, he worked for Grossbart, Goran could not help but enquire about the room off to the side, the large man, Fredje Gustaaf, invited Goran to partake, it was a den of sorts. Seeing that Goran was no stranger to experimenting with mind altering herbs, Fredje extended a small pouch to Goran, Black Lotus, some of the strongest found in Marienburg.

Taking the pouch, the door above the men swung open revealing Titus and Rikkert, Rolf and an elderly man who used two canes to walk, his haggard face revealing nothing but piercing eyes. Fredje looked upward, nodding at the elderly man who returned the gesture.

Grossbart

No one looked to be in a particularly good mood. Back at the Gentleman’s Club Titus explained in an angry tone that whoever these Estalians are, they need to be found quickly, they needed to be  identified, all guild eyes pointed to the Estalian district trying to break the truce that was in place. The crew were to travel north to Mesteeg, the heart of Estalia in Marienburg.

Not interested in the idea, yet feeling the irresistible pull of possible revenge, Armand was to take point on the operation as the only member to speak the language. Goran spoke to Rikkert directly, he was to report to the Captains to find out any local issues, as well as checking in on the girls. Rikkert taken by surprise, shrugged his shoulders and agreed.

The boat trip north was quiet, no one knew what to expect, Armand showing obvious signs of being nervous. Before departing, Armand spoke of the regular activities of Estalians, challenging men who carry swords in the street for duels and coin. A flamboyant people, looking for a chance to prove themselves at any turn. Ras carried only a dagger and pistol tucked in his coat. Jormund, his axe head and knuckle dusters. Goran eventually parted with his sword and carried only his dagger.

Armand was the only man still armed, knowing that he could hold his own against most he would encounter. Landing on the Handelaarsmarket, the four made their way smaller area of  Messteeg,  given instructions by Titus to locate a man by the name of Toltaca, proprietor of the Moneta De Plata, an establishment where information flowed freely. If anyone from Estalia was venturing south, Toltaca would know.

Ras, Goran and Jormund were all enthusiastic regarding the change in architecture they witnessed as they entered Mesteeg. The towering buildings making even the tallest men seem like insects. As the four traversed the streets, it was clear that the people who lived here were different, every man walked with a certain swagger that could only be seen in those searching to establish dominance.

Great care was given not to rub shoulders with these would be warriors, many of whom were teenagers to young men. On Several occasions Armand would brush shoulders or refuse to deviate from his path, the offended party locking eyes before moving on, clearly intimidated by not only Armand’s stare, but by the black scar that crossed his face.

Arriving at the Moneta De Plata, the four made their way up the three storey building, the ground floor courtyard overgrown in lavish vines and flowers, circling a large Silver disc showing ancient heritage of the establishment’s original owners.
The third floor was where the numerous occupants were to be found, a bustling place filled with all types of Estalians, young, old, drunk and sober. This was the home of Toltaca. The description of his was obvious, the large, muscled man behind the counter, covered in tattoos, long black pony tail and matching moustache that would rival that of Bernhardt.

Armand made his way to the bar, engaging with Toltaca, it did not take long after dropping Grossbart’s name that Toltaca escorted the four men into a small meeting room off to the side of the bar, bringing them food and drink. Joining them after a short time, Toltaca explained that he had heard no mention of groups from Estalia venturing south to Suiddock. As a man who pays to keep himself well informed, Toltaca had no reason to lie, Armand pressing, yet Toltaca remaining firm, no one was talking, no one would dare. Still not completely convinced, Armand requested a meeting with Nunez, the captain of the Thieves Guild here in Messteeg, a request that held dire consequences if anything went wrong.

Toltaca took some time, leaving the crew to sit and eat. Ras, Goran and Jormund all looked puzzled as to what the conversation had revealed, Armand explaining that a meeting was to take place as no information was flowing through Toltaca. The conversation continued as to why a meeting was necessary. Armand sticking to his line of enquiry, having been sent to see if Nunez was trying to break the truce, a meeting was all Armand could think of, giving the team a chance to observe him and assess for themselves. Armand also enlightened the others as to his own motives, Nunez, the man who took away his family, took away his life, he needed to die in the eyes of Armand and by his sword alone. Ras was most unnerved by the revelation of what Armand was doing, expressing his concern vigorously. Armand promising to keep his sword sheathed, he was not here to kill today, not until Titus gave the order.

Toltaca returned, communicating a meeting was to take place in a restaurant a few streets to the west in two hours. Thanking Toltaca for his time, the four left, making their way to the restaurant as soon as possible, arriving an hour and a half early, they wanted to make sure there was not going to be any surprises.

Sitting in the eatery, Jormund was not enthusiastic regarding the beer, switching to Estalian Brandy as soon as possible. An hour before the scheduled meeting time, four heavily armed men entered the restaurant, tucked between the was a short bald man, dressed in finery, moving quickly to a room in the back of the establishment, two of the heavily armed men standing at the entrance.

Armand soon stood and moved to the guards, announcing his arrival for the meeting, the guards however turning him away angrily as the time of the agreed meeting had not yet arrived. Sitting and eating the four waited patiently, doing their best not to grow in frustration.
As one of the guards raised his hand, a signal for the men to approach. Armand led, disarmed of his
pistol, he took a seat across a large table from Nunez, still picking his teeth from his barely touched meal. Ras, Goran and Jormund all stood behind Armand, watching, oblivious to the language being spoken.

"Miguelito "Little Round Head" Nunez

The conversation was coarse, Nunez clearly speaking in a manner of self satisfaction, arrogance and accusation. Armand kept his nerve, calm to the last, even though Nunez had no respect for the south of Marienburg, he spoke of Grossbart and Titus as inferior. As the four turned to leave, Nunez halted Armand, explaining a familiarity. Armand hid his knife as best he could, knowing that his scared face would make him hard to recognise, yet knowing that the knife he carried he pulled from the wall of his own home that Nunez himself put there would give his identity away. Eventually taking his leave without further delay, the four moved quickly, Armand refusing to talk until they were clear of the district.

Hiring a room in a small lodging for the night, Armand wanted to remain vigilant, discussing the meeting with Goran, Jormund and Ras, not believing Nunez was responsibly, no matter how rude he was, at least they could report that he hated everything and everyone south of Messteeg.
Hiring the room was for a single purpose, maybe they were wrong. Deciding that the proof would reveal itself in the night, if anyone came to silence them in their sleep, Nunez was certainly responsible, if the slept unmolested, there was nothing to discover.

As morning came without incident, the four decided to return home, the set up with The Captains would hopefully yield greater results. Ras was the most disgruntled, Goran was quick to share his views, both becoming gradually more agitated with Armand for leading them on this fruitless trip to sit down with a man who relished in showing off his own success.
Back at Suiddock, the four decided not to report straight to Titus, this news would not bode well as little to nothing had been discovered regarding the identity of the thugs.
As Armand, Ras and Jormund began searching the dock and known areas where the Estalians had
been operating, Goran reported to the Captains for hopefully good news. As he waited on the bridge at the agreed time, a small child approached quickly, divulging more information regarding where the Estalians had been seen as the name they give themselves. Calling their group “Dominos” and something else, with a leader named “El Verdugo”, no one was willing to give any descriptions, other than El Verdugo being a man of enormous stature.

Cut

Meeting with Jormund, Ras and Armand at the Gentleman’s Club, Goran discussed the information the Captains had told him. Armand recognising the names, Domino meaning Master, El Verdugo meaning Executioner. Deciding to talk to Titus, the four spoke of the meeting with Nunez and that the  Captains were more useful than the trip north, the discussion was interrupted by the screams of  Loretta, the woman who disguised the crew during their first visit to the Gentleman’s Club. Goran ran to the door, seeing Loretta carrying “Cut”, one of the street urchins tasked with monitoring the  comings and goings of the brothel Goran owned. Cut was covered in blood, large wounds to his  abdomen and his arm at a terrible angle. Jormund and Armand also ran to Cut, both working fast to  stop the bleeding, Armand’s previous tutelage proving useful, Jormund also showing much skill, only enhanced by his recent learnings of anatomy.

The brothel had been hit by the Estalians, something was terribly wrong there, Cut telling of at least
two of the girls being in trouble.

Sharky

Goran raced through the streets, followed closely by Armand and Ras, with Jormund bring up the tail. Bursting through the door of his establishment, Goran was horrified, blood on the walls, people scattered around the main lobby, and one of his girls lay motionless on the floor, blood seeping from the open section of her skull. The scene that had unfolded yielded no new information, the only strange sounding fact, none of the Estalians carried swords as so many do, and the weapons used here were axes and clubs. Goran’s shock turned to anger, demanding to know where to find the men responsible. As he stormed around the room, the door opened again to reveal two Black Hats, Sharky and Van Dorp. The two Black Hats who patrolled and did little more than line their pockets within Riddra. Their questions were arrogant, uncaring and in the presence of Goran, unwise, Goran taking Sharky by the throat before Armand and Ras pulled him off. Armand waited outside as he knew the interrogation from Goran would continue. Proving to be less than useless, Sharky and Van Dorp left the brothel the see Armand across the road, eyeing them off, hand on his sword. Jormund stuck his head out of the door to summon Armand back inside once the Black Hats wandered away down the road.

The afternoon was filled with anger and rage, Armand and Goran wanting to give chase and search for the culprits immediately, however the business needed to make money some how, the four aided in cleaning the interior, removing the body and correcting the damaged furniture and patrons.
In his desperation to find answers, Goran turned to mentioning Siemon, the beggar residing in Winkelmarkt, without a better option, the others agreed, it was the best course of action to attempt to find new information.

As night fell on the now quiet streets, a knock at the door of the brothel sounded, Ras, Goran and Armand drawing steel at the sound. Jormand holding his axe head in one hand creaked the door open, to their surprise, Titus stood, flanked by a small entourage. Explaining his intentions, Titus offered men for security and girls for business. A kindness of the guild seeing that income had been lost and the guild itself appeared weak. Thanking Titus for his support, the crew set off to Winkelmarkt once all was settled. Siemon was easy to find, sitting at his regular table within the Hound’s Den, gambling with his fellow beggars. Armand could not resist, joining one of the tables and throwing down some silver.

Siemon agreed to aid Goran, seeing his eyes were not that of a man to be negotiating with, at lunch time the following day, Siemon would meet Goran on Three Penny Bridge with any information.
Returning to the brothel, Goran was amazed at the work that had been accomplished, not taking the time to look at the place when he left, he was happy with the current state, happy enough to reopen the doors. Within an hour, business was already back in action. The four took their rest for the night in their lodgings, barely sleeping after what they had seen, Armand and Jormund discussing the brutality of the injuries the boy Cut had suffered, Ras failing to get the image from his mind of the woman on the floor of the brothel, her head caved in, Goran furious at how the assailants had been nearly invisible to all who lived in Suiddock.

Approaching Three Penny Bridge, the four saw Siemon sitting at the far end of the bridge with another man. Goran rose the two men, “Blind Mo” the second man was called, blind in sight, yet possessing a keen nose and sense of hearing to combat his disability. The discussion was finally fruitful, Blind Mo explaining that the men he had “seen” through the behaviours, sounds and smell were the men the crew were looking for. Smelling of Everlasting Mint, only one local place had that smell, the Mutton Shack, an establishment that used the herb to excess to mask the true odor of the food being served. The man in charge possessing a loud and distinctive laugh, something that chilled to the bone.

Leading the four to the Mutton Shack, Blind Mo explained he had sat in his spot as the Estalians moved from business to business all around him, shaking down everyone in the area. As the band approached the front door of the Mutton Shack, it flung open, civilians bursting through, running for their lives.

Goran wasted no time, drawing his sword and unslinging the shield he had been wearing on his back. Armand and Ras took position behind him, Armand and Ras both armed with their pistols. Jormund took the rear, his plan being that when the pistols had been discharged, he would join Goran in an all-out charge. Moving to the door frame, the scene inside was that of anger. 4 men were engaged in all manner of ill intent, all clad in dark clothes, moving like shadows. One of the men held a knife to the throat of the bar maid, pushing against the bar, a second man close by. Two more were toppling tables and making a general mess. Ras fired first, collecting the knee of the man holding the knife. Armand also fired, dropping one of the men in the room with a well-placed shot to the chest, the man’s spine protruding from his back as he fell. Ras fired again, this time collecting the arm of the second man at the bar, his arm now seemingly only being held in place by his clothing.
When the smoke cleared slightly from the door frame, Jormund charged the remaining man still standing in the main entry way, burying his axe in the man’s chest, sending backwards over a table. Goran also advanced hacking at the man who seemed to already be slumping from the bullet that tore through his arm, slicing him across the chest and almost carving him in two.

Armand and Ras also entered, advancing on the man who held the knife to the woman’s throat, slightly staggered and supporting himself against a chair, blood seeping from the hole in his leg.
Jormund also advanced on the man, arriving at his side before Ras and Armand, knocking him cold with a violent punch, sending him to the floor. Seeing that the room was clear, Armand took to the woman, doing his best to slow the bleeding of the slight cut to her neck. Jormund and Ras bound the unconscious man, strapping him to a chair.

Titus was not pleased at the sight before him. Dead bodies littering the bar room, a single survivor tied to a chair, Jormund at the ready to begin his interrogation. As the bucket of water splayed across the man’s face, he shook wildly, waking and screaming. Jormund asked the questions, softly, yet full of intent, his thumb making its way inside the bullet hole in the man’s leg, causing him to pass out again. Another bucket of water, another violent awakening. Armand stood behind Jormund, in his hand, the stoke from the fire, its tip red hot.
Before Jormund could sear the flesh, the answers came flooding out of the man’s mouth. The buttered Loaf, a bakery close by, under the floors, the spot the rest could be found, six more men,hiding in the dark.

Ras and Goran shared around the gold taken from the deceased Estalians, Titus receiving his six percent. Advising they would stay put, checking the damage done to the Mutton Shack, Titus and Rikkert began searching for more answers from the bound Estalian. Ras, Goran, Armand and Jormund decided it was time to get serious, returning to their lodgings to arm themselves properly, Goran and Ras both applying their chainmail shirts, Jormund selecting all manner of close combat blades, Armand wearing his thick leather tunic.

The Buttered Loaf was a small bakery on the water, entering with force the four were met by the baker’s wife who insisted at first that there was no one there. Goran, in no mood for games demanded answers before force was used, the woman eventually crumbling to give away the trap door location in the back of the shop. The plan was simple, lure them up and take them out. Armand crouched by the trap door, Jormund in position directly behind it.

Armand calling out pleas of help in Estalian, replied to by muffled voices, within a few moments the trapdoor creaked open, Armand throwing it back, Jormund grabbing the man who was slightly visibly by the scruff of the neck and throwing him down against the stacks of flower against the wall. Goran wasted no time, leaping down the hole in floor, landing on his feet, much to the shock of another man who stood stunned at the brute’s shocking entry.

Drawing his sword, Armand also leapt down the hole, landing next to Goran who had already drawn his sword and shield as was hack and slashing at the Estalian man who desperately tried to parry with his club. As another assailant appeared in the dark corridor leading away from the trap door entrance, Armand smiled at the oncoming combat, drawing his second blade, his ears rang as a shot fired from above him, Ras half way down the ladder, a smoking pistol extended in his hand. The man at the end of the corridor screaming in pain as his leg buckled under him from the pistol ball now lodged in his thigh.

Jormund pounced on the man against the flour bags, driving his axe into the man’s face with fury and rage. Spinning on his heel, Jormund stood atop the ladder heading down the trap door, waiting for Ras to clear the way.
Ras jumping from the ladder, joined Armand who was already speeding down the dark hallway, a shrill voice from the baker's wife behind them screaming not to let them hurt her children...

Not deterred, Armand and Ras pushed on. Jormund climbing down the ladder slowly saw Goran still  locked in combat, his blade finally finding flesh, causing the combatant to recoil slightly, Jormund letting out a howling war cry as he leapt from the ladder, driving his axe into the top of the man’s skull, nearly carving it two down to the neck. Nodding at Jormund, Goran also took off down the corridor, Jormund a few steps behind having to force his axe free from the bloodied mess of the man’s head.

Two more Estalian’s appeared in front of Ras and Armand, one wielding a pair of axes, the other brandishing a spiked club and shield. Armand letting fly with his pistol, causing the man with the axes to fall as a large chunk of his knee was blown back behind him. Ras also firing, taking a large portion of the wooden shield the other man carried and sending it to splinters, revealing the man’s face.

Charging into combat, Armand and the shield wielder sliced and hacked at each other, Armand catching a blow on the shoulder that caused obvious pain before driving his blade under the shield and through the man’s belly, carving upward to his chest before he fell dead to the ground.

The corridor opened up into a mall round room, within, a small set of stairs leading into a damp lit area. Goran took position next to Armand as scowls of anger came roaring through the space they occupied. Three men emerged from the stair case, two holding children in their arms, accompanied by blades. The third man had to crouch to enter, his height was towering, in one hand, he held a small boy by the neck, his other hand carrying a large broad sword as if it were nothing.

Choosing their opponents, Armand charged the closest man holding a child, Goran on the other hand, ran for the other, leaving the giant at the back of the room to watch. Ras desperately tried to reload his pistols, not realising he was blocking Jormund’s path as he desperately tried to push his way to the biggest opponent he could see.

El Verdugo

Armand and Goran both made short work of the two men in the room, choosing their opponents vulnerable spots as having one arm tied up with a child, the ability to defend themselves was poor.
Despatching the two men, the children running back down the corridor past Ras and Jormund, the giant man grew angrier, smashing the child he held in his hand into the stony wall of the room, killing the child instantly before advancing on Goran and Armand.

Goran the intended target, the first swipe of El Verdugo’s sword split Goran’s shield to splinters, causing him to recoil. Armand sliced at the brute, catching his rib cage, only to find the giant completely ignoring the blow. Goran swiped wildly, his shield arm throbbing from the force it had endured, again El Verdugo was hit, and however the wild swing from Goran and glancing the monster’s arm, again to no effect.

Raising his broadsword, El Verdugo struck the stunned Goran, catching his across the chest, his chainmail stopping the blade from cutting him in half, instead, breaking the chain and carving deep into his leg, almost to the bone. Goran slumped against the wall, the life draining from his body, the sight causing Jormund to shove Ras out of the way violently as he charged as hard as he could into the room.

Turning his attention to the advancing dwarf, a look of shock and surprise took over El Verdugo’s face, the sound of bone snapping and muscles snapping filling his ears.
As Jormund advanced, El Verdugo took to one knee, Armand appearing behind him, the rapier in  Armand’s hand completely disappeared, the only visible sign of it being the hilt under El Verdugo’s arm. The tip of the blade slowly emerging from the neck of the giant. El Verdugo’s body was broken, dead before his brain could realise it, his eyes shifting to the axe of Jormund, watching it descend down into his face before his world went dark.

Pulling his blade from the giant, Armand watched as Jormund mounted the chest of the deceased mountain of a man and hack again and again into the head and face of the corpse. Armand paused at the sight of the dwarf for a moment before running to Goran, his head hanging down as blood poured from his leg. Calling for Jormunds help, the dwarf came to his senses and joined Armand, pulling all manner of strange healing drafts from a pouch on his belt. Goran took a huge breath of air as Armand strapped his leg with cloth and pulled tightly, Jormund forcing liquids down his throat has he  breathed.

Ras pushed past the corpse of the giant, investigating the dimly lit room, his pistols finally reloaded and extended in front of him. As he scoured the room, the faint whispers of movement could be heard from the far end of the room, behind a large wooden door. Whispering for Armand to come quickly, Ras kicked the door open, revealing another man in the distance moving away at speed, Ras giving chase quickly followed by Armand.

As Jormund continued to work on Goran, the Estalian who brandished axes groaned as he swung wildly in the dark in Jormund’s direction, undeterred, the dwarf swung in a high arc, his axe head on his chain slamming into the man’s neck, almost decapitating him, Jormund barely looking up from the gaping wound in Goran’s chest. Goran groaning, blood causing his breath to bubble in his mouth, he was nearly gone, Jormund battling hard to keep him alive.

Ras and Armand followed the sounds of the man running ahead of them, the small shape of another child slung over his shoulder. Bursting into daylight, the paths and twists of the underground tunnels breaking the surface in the market district. Ras and Armand gave chase, through the crowds of people doing their regular business. The density of the population caused Armand and Ras to lose sight of the man they pursued, now running in only the vague direction he moved in. Ahead of them, calls and shouts filled the air, Armand and Ras finally witnessing the cause of the commotion.

Fredje, the large man from Grossbart’s hall, holding a knife to a little girl’s throat surrounded by Black Hats, halberds pointed at the thug. Ras attempted to sneak behind the muscled figure of  Fredje, distracting him long enough for one of the Black Hats to crunch Fredje in the back of the head, knocking him cold and ending him to the ground. Knowing that their prey was caught, but not by them, Ras picked up the girl and headed back towards the Buttered Loaf, Armand in tow.

Returning to the room where Goran lay bleeding, Ras and Armand quickly aided Jormund in picking Goran up and moving towards the seeping daylight.