Tuesday, 5 June 2018

Chapter 3: Tying up some loose ends...(Part III)

The basement that Ras, Jormund, Goran and Armand had been housed in during their ‘would be’ interrogation belonged to a much taller and respectable building, four storeys of Thieves Guild lodging. Now members of the Guild, the four were given rooms and adequate space within the walls of the structure. Establishing themselves there properly, their belongings stored, the most frequent activity was between this residence and the Dining hall of Titus, also known as the Marienburg Gentlemens Club.

Shortly after their joining and massacre of the men belonging to Cees, conversations with Titus left Jormund on the path of learning more sophisticated workings of Interrogation. Ras in turn was sent to learn from another member of the guild, Durak, to be schooled in the art of lockpicking and infiltration, a skill he had desperately sought after his failed attempts during their mission to the Van Eeuwen house.

Jormund was set up with Solomon Ritske, the resident interrogation specialist in the Suiddock region of Marienburg. Upon his first few sessions with Solomon, Jormund was learning the basics of anatomy, regarding man, dwarf, elf and goblin. Proving a quick study, it was not long before Solomon gave Jormund a simple task, “Bring me a dead body, fresh not rotten.”

Knowing that the best place to secure a body was Doodkanaal, Jormand wasted no time in securing a body that was still warm from what could only be seen as a thievery gone wrong. Returning to Solomon, Jormund’s knowledge only grew, learning all about pressure points and the different levels of torture and pain that can be inflicted. Solomon was strange man in Jormund’s eyes, everything spoken about was purely analytical, rarely and emotion entering his speech or explanation, even when elbow deep in blood and filth.

Goran and Armand spend most of their time drinking, both knowing that there was little for them to learn from a Thieves Guild when it came to their interests. For Armand, he knew that there was no one within these walls that could teach him in his knowledge of furthering his skill with the sword, Goran on the other hand, already a brute to look at, towered over most of the fellow guild members.

*

Free, one of the servants from Sweaty Olaf’s inn knocked on the door of the lodging the four were now calling home, a large wooden crate in his possession, a note on it addressed to Goran.
Meeting Free downstairs at the main entrance, Goran returned the favour to Frey with some coin and drink before retiring back to his room, crate in hand.
Upon opening it, inside were two bags filled with coin, a long narrow box and a smaller square box. Opening the bags of coin, Goran counted 100 gold pieces. The smaller box revealing a finely rafted pistol, its freshly polished brass and fine wood revealing it to be unfired. The long box however took Goran’s attention, inside, a perfectly balances and finely crafted broad sword.

Goran’s eyes alight with excitement, such a weapon only known to him as something owned by lords and knights of high birth. Goran looked at the note puzzled, his knowledge of the written word lacking.
He summoned the other three of his companions to the downstairs common area, coin and small box in hand, his new weapon slung around his waist.
Ras, Jormund and Armand all joined Goran, the fresh tankards of ale still frothing.

“Who can read?” Goran asked. Armand extended his hand for the note Goran held.

Reading aloud, this was a note from Agnes and Ludmilla, two of the women Goran, Jormund and Ras had given aid to on the barge of slaves. Armand not present, off drinking and gambling at the time. The letter dictated that the two keep their word and that perhaps payment should not be demanded in future for doing a good deed.

Goran slid the box to Ras, who in turn allowed his jam to drop to the floor at the contents of the box. Goran also slid a bag of 50 gold to each Armand and Jormund. Obviously outraged at the gift to Armand, Jormund made no secret about his apparent disgust at the way the spoils had been split. Armand took notice of Goran’s sword, asking to see it closely, inspecting the blade with envious eyes, truly a weapon forged by masters.
As the four sat, Ras toying his new pistol, Jormund counting his coin, Armand and Goran both discussing the fine steel before them, Ras was the first to talk business, proposing a plan of deception regarding the Rivermen Guild.
Proposing the four pose as Rivermen, ferrying rich men about the canals, recording locations for later thievery. Goran however trumped Ras in terms of an idea for making coin. Of the women rescued off the slavery barge, several were professional women who worked the streets and the rooms of Suiddock. Goran had discussed with them the price of renting rooms and how much to expect from their trading.

Everyone was keen to partake, as a small yet frequent revenue stream without danger to themselves, it was agreed to be a good plan. Goran followed the discussion up with walking to where he knew the women were lodged, arranging rooms on the Red Lantern Canal for them to work from, and street urchins to watch the comings and goings of the patrons, to make sure the count was accurate and that no one was getting greedy.

Titus also informed the crew that only two Black Hats resided in the area, corrupt and friendly to the Thieves Guild, Van Dorp, a weedy man to look at, yet sly and unnerving, Sharky, a more solid man who also seemed to be the talker when discussing business, ran their own little schemes to make coin. Allowing them to remain meant that the Thieves Guild had an understanding with the law, rather than doing them in and having them replaced by possibly less kind Black Hats. Van Dorp and Sharky could always be found at the Lighthouse Inn, on the far side of the small island of Riddra, far enough out of the way to avoid constant contact with the Guild Hall members.

After a week of relative rest and Silence, Armand and Goran decided to continue their surveillance of the cave below the cemetery cliffs. After two days of watching, only one man seemed to enter and exit the cave with any regularity, arriving at 2pm and leaving at 6pm,
Armand and Goran decided that this was the best way in, returning to the Guild residence, collecting Jormund and Ras, it was time to sort this out.
A single boat with a sole occupant began to steadily paddle out of the cave entrance, Ras and Goran on the oars of the a second boat began to charge the small boat, hammering into its side, almost tipping it over completely.
Armand and Jormund, leaping across the side of the small craft, pounced on the occupant, Armand placing a dagger over the man’s neck, Jormand holding him down tight.
Three large rolls of neatly wrapped fabric lay in the small boat, the explanation given, that was what was being stored in the cave, it was a secret spot for a man named Thijs, a tailors son.
In an effort to extract information out of the prisoner, Martin, a simple man who only worked as a courier, Armand and Goran tied stones to his feet, threatening to drop him overboard. Martin wasted no time spilling his information, two other men resided in the cave, the only loot, silks and fabrics belonging to Thijs.
As the crew and their prisoner returned to the cave, a large open area revealed itself at the mouth, torchlight dull against the wet, stone walls of the cavern. Spreading out, it was clear this was not a small cave, branches of tunnel leading off in several directions. Ras held his new pistol to Martin’s face as he led the group to where the other men were to be found. As the cave  went further in, the rock walls gave way to man-made pillars and stone carvings, a wooden door appearing at the end of the runnel, dim light showing from the slit under the timber, reflecting off the shiny wet floor.

As voices were heard through the door, Ras held Martin back, allowing Jormund, Armand and Goran to move closer. Flinging the door open, Armand darted left, two men inside the room, sitting at a single table rolling dice stood shocked at this breach.
Goran stepping through the door calling for the men to halt, again his command falling on deaf ears. Both men moving for their weapons that lay close by, Goran wasting no time in sending a bolt through the leg of the closest man, Ras in turn appearing in the doorway and firing a shot that echoed loudly in the confines of the caverns. Also hitting the closest man in the shoulder, sending him into a spin before crashing to the floor. The second man already had Armand in close proximity, the Estalian’s sword drawn and ready, looking across the room, Jormund was also poised, his axe head dangling from his chain, ready to be sent across the room.

“I surrender!”

Ras threw Martin to the floor as he approached the surrendering man. Asking questions and demanding answers, Ras seemed off, as if he was unsure of himself in the asking, Jormund standing close by, a slight grin on his face at watching his compatriot fumble his words. After
gathering what information they could, largely due to Jormund threatening the testicles of the man, Thijs, the tailor’s son resided at his fathers shop, everything in the cave was his and done through him. He was also under the protection of the Thieves Guild, something only mentioned as a warning. Armand patched up the bleeding man on the floor before proceeding to secure all three men with rope while the four searched the passageways of the cave.

One of the tunnels leading to a
storage area containing 10-20 rolls of fine fabric, another containing little more than dust and dirt, another much the same.
The four discussed their options, they had breached the truce, they had attacked a Thieves Guild resource. Ras pushed to go back and clear it with Titus, Jormund did not much care for the options and only offered little support. Goran was interested in the money, the silks and fabric clearly worth a good amount, Armand was also unsure, his idea, no witnesses, take the goods and be gone. Ras, Goran and Jormund continued to discuss how to address the guild issue, dismissing Armand as a blood thirsty murderer. After several minutes of procrastination, Ras and Jormund would return to Titus for clarification, Goran and Armand would stay, Goran mainly staying as the only
one able to potentially stop Armand from carrying out his plan without consulting the others.

*

“So let me get this right,” Titus choked, “You have gone out into another district, hit a fellow thieves guild den, and now you are asking permission to do what you have already done? Is that right?”, Titus’s voice concerned and doing his best to hide his anger.

“These men had hit us first!” Jormund snorted. Looking at Olaf who was seated next to Titus, “On the boat, our first job, you were there, Olaf!”

Olaf whispered to Titus briefly before clearing his throat to respond, Titus was not pleased with what had transpired.

“So this was a retaliation of sorts?” Titus queried, “Need I remind you of the story of Cees and his men? He did his own thing, now look at him.”

“That’s why we are here,” Ras interrupted, “We do not want to hide anything and once we found out there is guild involvement, we came straight to you.”:

Titus leaned back in his chair, quietly discussing with Olaf how to deal with the situation. As Ras and Goran sat silently for what felt like an eternity, Titus eventually re-joined the conversation.

“You will go back to the cave, Olaf will take the bigger boat, you will load all of the merchandise, you will leave the men there alive, you will leave a note for the occupant. Is that clear?”

“Then we should probably go now,” Ras sweated, “We left Armand with the prisoners.”

Titus waved his hand in a motion of dismissal. Ras and Jormund looking at each other with worried looks as their minds wandered to what they might find back in the cave.

*

It took several boat trips to get all of
the rolls of fabric aboard Olaf’s barge. Ras and Goran doing most of the work, leaving Armand and Jormund to instill a measure of fear into the prisoners. Handing the bloodied Martin, a note from Titus, the four men left, returning to the Marienburg Gentlemans Club, it was late, it was time to rest.

Goran and Armand set out early, searching for Siemon, the deal struck ever playing on Goran’s mind. He wanted that monkey off his back as soon as possible. Consulting several beggars, the pair headed to Winkelmarkt food hall, where they were told Siemon could be found.

The morning brought with it Rikkert who had heard about the night’s escapades, furious at the result and reminding Ras and Jormund who they work for and who they report to, Titus also summoning them to meet him later in the evening, Rikkert’s anger emerging as he clenched his fists and only grew more aggravated when Jormund explained that in his absence, Titus was the only option of person to speak to.

Sitting in the food hall in Winkelmarkt, Goran soon smelt the familiar stench associated with Siemon’s beard. Siemon himself pulling up a seat next to both Goran and Armand, demanding food and drink.
As brief as the conversation was, it seemed to take forever in the eyes of Goran and Armand, the stench of the beggar turning them off their meals. The favour to Siemon was to be one of violence. A band of youths had been terrorizing the beggars and occupants of Doodkanaal, based out of the old Stevedore union building. The group who once only caused trouble, now delving into murder and
maiming, Calling themselves “The Claws”.

Goran seemed happy to do the job, the only negative though in his mind was that he would have to return to the smell of Doodkanaal, its thick smog hiding all matter of aroma from faeces to blood. Taking their leave of Siemon, Armand and Goran returned to the Guild Hall, sighting Ras and Jormund and informing them of what was required.
As the four entered the Hall of Titus that evening, a large table stood in the middle of the room, the fabrics and silks lay out across it. Titus instructed the men to select what fabric they would like fresh clothes made from, they will be needing it for their trip to Kruiersmuur when they visit Thijs and his father the tailor. Titus explained that everything had been cleared with the Guild in the area for the four to make a visit, the instructions, find out who and why Olaf’s boat came under attack.

*

Jormund was the first to enter the tailor shop, a roll a fine fabric over his shoulder, Ras, Goran and Armand all followed to find a highly decorated shop despite the businesses surrounding it. The tailor, Pepijn, was busy measuring up a number of fabrics for the current commission he was working on. Offering to pay handsomely for his time and work, the four were lined up for their measurements to be taken. Ras and Armand inquiring as to the whereabouts of the tailor’s son Thijs, the answer being upstairs. Paying the tailor even more gold for a conversation with Thijs, Ras and Armand calmly ascended the stairs as the tailor struggled with Jormund’s measurements.

Knocking on the door, Thijs answered only to be met by the blade of Armand, forcing his back in the room for Ras to enter and close the door behind him.
Ras took ever with the questions, again stumbling over his words, clearly in need of help. Armand offering the only aid he knew how to give, a firmer grip on his dagger. After lengthy answers yielding no results to even lengthier questions, Armand began to cut strips off the fine coat Thijs was wearing, hitting a nerve, Thijs began to respond. Not knowing who or what happened on Olaf’s boat, all he knew was that the cave was there, unused and arranged for it to be a place for his own illegal gains of fabric from merchants to be stored.

After several more minutes of Armand cutting and Ras growing more and more frustrated, it was clear that whoever had shown the four the cave, was misleading them, Thijs, although corrupt, was little more than a pawn in the grander scheme.
Returning downstairs, leaving Thijs in a pile of sliced material and a puddle of his own urine, Ras, Goran, Jormund and Armand left the tailor, expecting delivery in the weeks ahead. Returning to Guild Hall, the question of who had sought to do them ill, still a strong heavy thought on their minds.


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