Toltaca

La Moneta di Plata

Loewijer's Tannery

Loewijer’s is one of the many small tanneries in the leatherworking district of Luydenhoek, run by Anton Loewijer. It is set a little way behind Tanner’s Alley, in the maze of side-streets and alleyways, near Potion Square. One end of the building stands on Canal Street, but it is without doors or windows - instead, it has a colourful mural of a stack of leather hides and a sign reading LOEWIJER’S TANNERY - Entrance at Side. The sign doesn’t say which side the entrance is on, but it doesn’t matter since there are doors on both sides of the building.

Beside each door is a pit, 5ff square and 5ft deep and covered over with planks. At least, it’s covered over with planks so long as someone remembers to put them back. Some late-night revellers
making their way home from the Long Dragon Inn through these alleys sometimes fall into a pit in the darkness. The pits are used for storing the tanning mixture, an evil-smelling concoction made from  the bark of certain trees, sour wine and other, less pleasant substances.

The building itself consists of two large rooms connected by a narrow passage. The front room on the ground floor is used for scraping, trimming and cleaning hides, and the back room - which has a deliver door facing towards Tanners’ Alley - contains three tanning pits like those outside, except that they now contain hides in various stages of tanning. A ladder leads up the upper floor from here, as does a ramp from the front room. There is no passage on the upper level - the space is occupied by a rope drying rack for hanging hides when they come out of the pits.

Potion Square

City maps and ordnances call it ‘Graf Anders Square’, but this name is hardly ever used by Suiddockers. Ask for Graf Anders Square and you’ll get a blank look, and be told to head towards
Elftown! Ask for Potion Square and you’ll stand a good chance of getting the right directions.

The name comes from the fact that the Square is close to Zegepraal Straat – generally known as Leech Street, where a great many physicians and other healers live and work. The predominantly medical nature of the area is reflected in many unofficial local place-names: for example, locals know the small canal which separates Potion Square from Leech Street as the Poultice Water, rather than its official name of the Tussenkanaal.

Locales to visit on the Square:

• SL07: Suiddock Watch Station, Number Four
• SL08: Doktor Markus Puttlangs
• SL09: Van Arzneier’s Floracopoeia
• SL10: The Edelmoed Temple
• SL11: Kluger’s Emporium
• SL12: Wilhelm Rotkopf, Alchemist
• SL13: Lisette’s Leather Goods
• SL14: The Orphanage of Saint Rutha
• SL16: Old Mother Crumhorn’s Apothecary
• SL17: Hassan’s
• SL18: The Long Dragon
• SL19: Dagblad’s Wholesale Leathers
• SL20: Sign of the Quill
• SL21: Droevigger’s Funeral Services
• SL23: Loewijer’s Tannery

Karel Broegman

Karel runs the brewery of the Long Dragon Inn himself and keeps an eye on Beate, a young local girl who cooks the warm meal of the day. His homebrewed beer comes in two varieties; the Blozenbroew of normal strength, and the notoriously strong Boekbier – for the average Suiddocker it’s probably the best beer he’ll ever have.

Lotte Wald

Lotte Wald is the public face of the Long Dragon Inn, typically residing behind the bar from where she supplies beer and other delights for her customers. She also keeps track of the girls who come every night to offer their services to the customers, luring them to the private booths near the brewery.

The Captains

Clad in raggedy clothes with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor.

They have to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wim's ghost keeps the core of a child's innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders.

The Captains are a group of street-children who live in Stoessel, behind a general store.
Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they're all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any
grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.

Cut and Purse

Cut and Purse were two of the children the group liberated from the boat full of slaves.

Goran had sent the ones found in the hold on their way with the two prostitutes, but once he became an official Guildmember, he called upon them to work for them. Cut and Purse were used to keep an eye on the business and taught to count, so they could report to Goran the number of customers entering the 'establishment'

When El Verdugo and the Coffin Masters his the house, they killed one of the prostitutes when the madam refused to pay for protection, and stabbed Cut, who was only just able to make it to the Gentleman's Club and alert Goran of what happened (Chapter 6)

Blind Mo

When the group needed information on the Estalians attacking their businesses, they asked Siemon Teerling for help.

He got them in touch with Blind Mo, a Riddra beggar, who had overheard a few bits and pieces. He was able to guide them to the Mutton Shank,  where they caught the gang in the act.

El Verdugo (DEAD)

El Verdugo (The Executioner), a mountain of a man,  was the leader of the gang of Estalians called Dominos de Ataud (the Coffin Masters).

This brutal bunch of scum had decided to make a move on Riddra and Stoessel businesses, protected by the Thieves Guild.

Titus had been called in by Grossbart to explain why this was allowed to happen, and ordered the group to figure out who was behind it.

Things got even hairier when they hit Goran's brothel, killing one of his prostitutes, and stabbing Cut, one of Goran's urchins he kept on the lookout.

A showdown took place in the basement of the Sweet Loaf bakery (See chapter 6), where the group found out there seemed to be a connection with Fredje Gustaaf, who fled but was caught by the Stoessel Black Caps.

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.

Fredje Gustaaf (DISAPPEARED)

Fredje Gustaaf, one of Grossbart’s men , resides in one of the Dragon’s rooms, within call of Grossbart if needed. Fredje is a big and brutish looking man in his early forties, who happily takes care of Grossbart’s dirty work.

A long life in the seedier parts of Marienburg has left Fredje with little care for the well-being of people other than himself – an  outlook that certainly keeps him quite satisfied with his current livelihood.

Many people in Suiddock dread the appearance of Fredje, as one of his jobs is to summon people to Grossbart and make sure they get there on time – whether they want to or not.

Our rogues found out in Chapter 6 that he was involved with the gang of Estalians, led by El Verdugo, that was trying to force their way into Stoessel, and, more importantly, Riddra.

After a fight in the Wasteland, he cut a deal, revealing Grossbart's plans in exchange for his live, never to show his face again in Marienburg.

Erasmus

Erasmus should be hideous to look at. A huge crab's claw juts out from one malformed arm. He is ghostly white, having not seen the sun for fifteen years. Wide, milky eyes stare out from a hairless face. Though a hunchbacked teenage boy he is large, towering misshapenly over most men. Yet somehow those that he talks to feel drawn to him, eager to hear his promises of the
bloodshed they will inflict in his name.

The Crab Union Building

Before the Doodkanaal became what it was today, the canal sides were busy with Stevedores unloading goods. All that has gone now, and no men ply that trade. Remnants of the busy docksides still exist though, including what was formerly the meeting place of a union of stevedores and has now been taken over by one of the many gangs that roam the Dead Canal.

Like many gangs, these guys are mostly bored young men, stuck in the Doodkanaal and unable to find work. They therefore live out their days roaming the streets picking fights and preying on unwary travellers, whilst occasionally sneaking into other districts to steal food and drink.

The Claws  have slowly introduced the claw motif into their violent ways, using short spiked weapons in their attacks and carving a claw onto their victims' heads. As time goes on they are becoming less like a bunch of thugs and more like an organised, though violent, cult.

Marinus

Leader of the Thieves Guild in Doodkanaal.
Lives in a room behind the kitchen of the Rat and Pipe Inn.

Mental note: if anyone offers you leadership of the Guild in Doodkanaal, better slit your throat...

Chapter 5: A lovely piece of real estate.

Armand and Goran didn’t stay at the Gentleman’s Club for long, not with Titus ranting and raving due to the package he was clearly unhappy with. Shovelling the last of their food into their faces, the two left for their lodgings as soon as they could, bumping in to Ras and Jormund who were hovering around the entrance, both smoking and leaning against the large door frame.

Looking at Goran dragging his arm and Armand’s freshly bandaged face, the expressions of both Ras and Jormand where more focussed on what they had missed out on rather than concern. Moving into their place of lodging, Goran and Armand regaled their comrades with the busy night at the Helmsman, Jormund knew the tavern, a fine establishment in his eyes, no wonder travelling lords and ladies stopped there. Ras was sure he could have taken Bruno in an arm wrestle, his years of
rowing making his arms strong without the bulging biceps. Looking at Armand’s face, Jormund and Ras could see the scar was not going to heal naturally, no stiches, just a black line as though the wound was full of coal.

After a few days of rest, Ras still practicing his lock picking ability, Jormund advancing his knowledge of human anatomy for torture, Goran rose from his bed, his arm feeling slightly better, strong enough to wield his blade. He decided it was time to deal with the ‘Siemon’ issue, his debt having to be repaid.

Heading for Doodkanaal, the four scouted the area around the old Stevedore building, the area was deserted, and anyone without enough brains to venture here was surely unaware of the dangers.
Jormund and Goran spotted a high tenement, overlooking not only the Union building, but the streets surrounding it.

Ras was first to move to the building, all four keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of the so called ‘Claws’ that had been causing all of the trouble. Within a few moments, the boards that barred the main entrance were pried off, all four moving into the foyer, the floor boards creaking as they struggled to take the weight. Applying new boards to the door to hide their entry, the four carefully made their way to the attic of the building where they sighted the best vantage point. The stairs leading up were no better under the weight of the men, particularly Jormund who caused several to crack without breaking completely.

Once the four were settled in the attic, the smell of dried rot and damp mould constantly filled their noses, all seemed uncomfortable, however compared to the streets of Doodkanaal, this was far more acceptable. Watching the comings and goings of the building, it was clear that there were more than just a few thugs in the establishment, at dusk and mid morning the group of Claws would congregate around a fire on the steps of the main entrance, at least 12 to 20 in number. Scattering like insects, the Claws were taking shifts, rotating between night patrols and day patrols.

Ras and Goran made their way back to where they knew good food could be bought, returning so that the observation of the Union building could continue for at least two more days before any action was to be taken. The same patters continued, men staying, men leaving, all the same.
Jormund’s plan was simple, an ambush, he would pose as a lost dwarf as Goran and Ras laid in wait, Armand the spotter from the attic. The Claws would normally move in pairs of sometimes threes.
When only a pair roamed close, the trap would be sprung.

After the mid morning gathering of the Claws, the group slowly started to disperse on their numerous paths throughout Doodkanaal, Jormund hid himself in a small broken shop window, Goran and Ras across the street, both brandishing crossbows that had been brought from their stores of weapons taken from previous battles.
Looking to the top of the ruined building, Armand signalled Jormund to emerge as two Claws approached from the far end of the street. As they took notice of the small cloaked figure of a dwarf, the two claws brandishing spiked clubs raised them above their heads to strike. One of the men immediately hit the ground as Goran and Ras lodged crossbow bolts in his back and neck. Jormund sprung to life, launching a furious strike with is fist, knocking the second man sideways, giving Goran enough time to appear behind the man and club him in the back of the head with the butt of his crossbow, knocking him cold. The group wasted no time, tying the man and dragging him up the stairs to the loft they had been occupying.

A large claw scar resided in the mans forehead, capturing the attention of the four. As the man regained consciousness, his bonds still tight, he knew he could not escape. Jormund and Ras began the questioning, after refusing to talk, Armand could not resist, taking his knife from his belt, he began carving the claw-marked skin from the man’s brow. Still unflinching, the man did start to talk, not out of pain or the threat of torture, but the invitation to introduce the four to their leader, Erasmus.

Ras continued the conversation, the man truly believing that Erasmus was going to clean up the city and restore Doodkanaal to a place that was clean and good. Hearing enough of the man’s beliefs, Goran clubbed the man again, knocking him cold once more.

An argument broke out between Ras and Armand, all to do with what would befall the unconscious man on the floor. In the end, gagging the man and leaving him was best option, Armand wanting to hurl him from the roof as a message, Ras wanting to let him go.
The four were stunted in their movements, not knowing what the best course of action was, heading to the tavern they had resided in in an attempt to locate Marinus, the local Thieves Guild Lieutenant in Doodkanaal. Albert, the innkeeper directing them to a room upstairs. Marinus was a strange looking man, portly for a man residing in Doodkanaal, strangely vague and clearly uncaring towards anything that happened in the district. Ras led the charge, explaining the reason the four were there, again Marinus was unfazed, offering some men as backup for the crew, explaining that they will be there the following day.

The four left Marinus, all frustrated with his lack of help and not trusting his motives. Armand and Ras agreed that the backup would have to wait, strangers in this affair would only complicate things.
Night was their only hope, this night.

Moving without paddles along the Canal was slow, the weight of the four men, all heavily armed lowered the boat to the point water would slowly seep over the side each time a shift in balance took place.
The boat came to a halt along the shoreline outside the Union building, separated by a line of small and large warehouses once used for the transport and storage of numerous goods. Ras led the way off the boat, the once busy warehouses now nothing more than walls, partial ceilings and piles of mess scattered throughout the interiors. Jormund struggled to navigate the slippery surfaces of the ground, where floor boards remained, thick layers of moss and muck made heavy foot falls prone to slide. Spying the rooftop of the union building through large gaping holes in the wall, the crew knew they were close, refusing to light torches as the element of secrecy was paramount.

Coming to the far end of the warehouse they had arrived in, a large hole had been punched out, who by was not of concern, just that this provided access to the next set of buildings closer to the target.
More holes seemed to pave the way through the busy jigsaw of buildings, for some time, the winding path the crew took saw them decent a flight of stairs, move through a room of barrels, cartons and long forgotten fishing traps. As the four entered a small room made of stone, a thin curtain hung against the southern wall, the faint echo of voices whispering in the dull breeze. The warm glow of a distant candles revealed the deep purple of the cloth curtain was faded and frayed, gently blowing without sound.
Ras held the curtain to one side, making sure there was no one waiting on the other side, a long corridor filled his view, lit dimly by a candle every few feet along the walls. Rooms had been created using crates and barrels, each one empty and cold. Moving down the hallway, the groups movements silent as the sand underfoot was soft, the stray scattered around, damp and unable to snap under the heels of boots.

Reaching the end of the corridor, the walls hooked to the right, the sound of voices speaking growing louder, it was clear that there was someone around there. Ras again took the lead, peeking around the corner, a series of tables in a wide space, men with claw tattoos sitting, eating and conversing. One room still remained a secret, across the way from the group of tables, a final doorway, was unchecked. Ras put his finger to his lips, signalling the others to be quiet, he then began to sneak over to the room, making sure it was empty, Goran taking his position and watching the tables full of men. Not everything was clear, there were more men unseen around the corner of the wall that Goran could only hear. Ras cleared the room, again empty, he turned to see the full space of the tables, the brighter light of a roaring fire illuminating the inhabitants. As he looked into the main area, his grip on his cutlass and pistol relaxed, both falling to his sides.

A single voice spoke above the ramblings of the men at the tables. Its clarity echoing for the new friend to come and sit. Without question, Ras began to walk towards the tables, sheathing his sword and placing his pistol back in his belt. Jormund, Armand and Goran whispered urgently to Ras to come back to them, however their hisses fell of deaf ears.
Ras continued to walk, again the voice called out, beckoning Ras closer. Jormund and Goran moved closer, wanting to see why their friend had walked out of the shadows into the light, and worse, had sheated his weapons. As they themselves moved closer to see what was happening, the reacted the same as Ras: they sheated their weapons and walked out of the shadows towards the figures at the tables.A hush had come across the room as the men around the tables’ watched, relaxed in nature, no sense of agitation around them, observant of the men that had infiltrated their sanctum.

Armand was panicked, all had left him, and backing away down the hall uncertain as to if he would be pursued. The voice echoed again, ushering Ras, Goran and Jormund to sit at the main table, Erasmus identified himself, the source of the voice.

Ras, Goran and Jormand sat at the table. Any trace of hostility towards the person who had welcomed them had vanished.
Armand again moved up to the corner, peering around to see if he could sight his compatriots, is only sign, one of the claws sitting at the table calling out that there was another intruder.

Again the voice of Erasmus echoed across the room, calmly inviting Armand to join the table.
Knowing that he could not return to the Guild without his friends, Armand decided to do the stupidest thing he could, fake it.
Sheathing his blades, Armand turned the corner to see that in total there were eight men unfamiliar to him around the area, seven Claws and the man known as Erasmus. Armand held back a grimace and the urge to heave as he laid eyes on Erasmus, a giant of a man, at least seven feet tall, a pronounced hunch back, his skin the colour of frozen flesh, his head bald, his eyes glazed over in milky white and his left arm, not an arm at all, a large claw that looked as though it could cut a man in half.

Armand approached as carelessly as he could, looking at his friends sitting around the table, looks of peace on their face as he approached. Erasmus was also calm, showing no outward signs of aggression, standing next to a vacant seat, pointing his claw at it as he motioned Armand to sit. As Armand approached arms reach of Erasmus, all the eyes in the room resumed their original gaze, engaging with each other about their daily activities. Placing his off hand on the table as if to aid in taking his seat, Armand drew his rapier with incredible speed, driving it into Erasmus’s chest. Letting out a blood curdling scream, Erasmus lost his hold on Ras, Goran and Jormund who instantly broke free of the hold on their minds, leaping into action, Jormund throwing himself across the room, crashing into two Claws that fell violently beneath his axe, Jormund’s fury was second to none, the anger he felt at not being able to control his body, driving his actions to be wild and ferocious. Ras also let loose a volley with his pistols, splattering the brains of two more Claws across the wall.
Goran also leapt into action, driving his sword into one of the Claws while head butting another into submission. Turning around, the final Claw in the room desperately running towards Armand from behind in an attempt to give aid to Erasmus. Goran pulling his knife from his belt and flinging it at the Claw, striking him in the back at the same moment as Jormund’s axe collided with the Claw’s head.

Erasmus swung violently with his claw arm, Armand however proving too quick, ducking under the wild swing, removing his rapier and thrusting it upward under Erasmus’s jaw, the blade appearing out of the crown of Erasmus’ skull. At that moment, the body of the towering mutant went limp, falling to the floor. The room was clear, Jormund still searching for more men to carve up, Ras and Goran also moving around the room for any signs of life. Jormund then turned his attention to Erasmus, deciding to repeatedly strike his head until all that remained was a chunky blood puddle against the sandy floor.

Throwing the body into a cart, the four made their way back to the Rat and Pipe Inn, the lodgings of Marinus. Meeting them outside, the Guild Lieutenant was unimpressed with the claw that Jormund had over his shoulder, advising that mutants were not something to be touched or proud of.
Agreeing, the four covered the body of Erasmus in oil, setting it ablaze in the street before returning to the tavern Siemon could always be found in.

Settling his debt, Goran took his leave of Siemon, hoping to never be in his debt again, yet Siemon offered any assistance required by Goran in future.
Back at the Gentleman’s club, Rikkert was waiting for the group to return, as they entered, his only point of conversation was to increase the amount of gold being brought in, foolish follies such as this were to be forgotten, unless it made money, it was not worth doing in the eyes of the Guild.

Feeling like the guild had delivered another sucker punch, the four made their way back to their lodgings, it was time for rest, actual rest, something they had not come across for some time.

Chapter 4, A Rough Night at the Helmsman

Ras disappeared in the early morning, taking his leave of the group in the company of Durak, the dwarf he had been spending much time in conversation with regarding the ways of thievery.

Jormund also had disappeared, sent by Titus the accompany Solomon and begin his training in the ways of interrogation.

This left Goran and Armand to keep themselves occupied as days passed with no sign of either Ras or Jormund returning.

Goran made his usual rounds of the brothel he had set up with the help of the team, Armand questioned the street urchins who had been instructed to keep count of the men who entered, Goran questioned the girls, the count close enough to be accurate and not reflecting a loss.

As Goran and Armand entered the gentleman’s club, everything was as it should be during the waking hours, quiet and lazy, the sound of their footsteps across the wooden floor echoing in between the chewing of food emanating from a few early risers looking to vacate before the rush.  Within a few minutes, Titus emerged atop the balcony, looking directly at Goran and Armand, motioning for them to come upstairs.

As Goran and Armand made there way to the top of the stairs, Titus ushered them down the long hallway, past many doors, each showing less use and finer woodwork than the one before.  Entering Titus’s office, a large room filled with elegant bookcases, worn yet fine furniture and a large desk, a man already sitting off to the side.

Goran and Armand sat in the two comfortable chairs facing the desk, the strange man sitting to their right, resembling a man from the north, his long hair mixed with scruffy beard, hiding the fact that he was obviously younger than he wanted to appear.

Titus explained that he had a sensitive mission, the exchange of gold for documents, Vincent, the man on the right was to be the courier, he was a new recruit, not yet a member of the guild, but doing whatever he could to appease Titus.  The exchange was to happen at the Helmsman tavern, the owner, Sander was a good source of information for the Thieves Guild. The Helmsman itself was always a hub of activity, a good place to find marks for further investigation.

The mission was simple, Armand and Goran were to assist Vincent, watching for the contact to arrive, a tall thin man with gaunt features, Vincent the only member of the crew to lay eyes on the man previously.  Goran and Armand were more protection than anything else, the large bag of Gold, not something Titus was willing to part with without results. This was a personal mission for Titus, not something he was comfortable going to his lieutenants with.

The Helmsman

Understanding the situation, Goran and Armand agreed, introducing themselves properly to Vincent, conversing about how he saw this meeting going down.

After allowing for the elements to rule the journey, the three men were wrapped in cloaks, the torrential downpour of rain slowing their progress.  The Helmsman was located at the southern end of the main rotating bridge in Suiddock, a constant stopping point for all travellers passing through. As the sun began to set, the three entered the main gates of the courtyard that lay before the main entrance to the Helmsman.

Goran swung the gate open to reveal a rabble of men at arms, servants and well-dressed individuals hovering around a series of coaches that lay dormant in the courtyard.  Servants ferrying trunks and belongings inside, Men at arms standing guard, a well-dressed fat man ordering all about. Moving through the rain, the three payed little attention to the teams of people in the courtyard, entering the large oak doors of the Helmsman, immediately removing their drenched cloaks and wiping the water from their eyes to reveal a large common room and bar, tables positions so that walkways remained clear, several groups of people hovering around different locations, predominantly around the roaring fireplace.

The servants and Men at arms all ferrying the belongings from the trunks through the small groups of travellers, up the stairs and returning minutes later empty handed for another trip to the carriage and back.

Vincent moved through the tables towards the bar, waiting patiently as the fat man from outside had begun speaking loudly to the man behind the bar, the discussion revealing that Gustaf, the fat man, was making plans for his liege to be housed in the finest rooms, booking out a whole wing of the upstairs apartments.

Sander, the man speaking with Gustaf, a gaunt man yet well-mannered and serious.  As Gustaf moved away, Vincent engaged Sander, ordering food and drink for the three men, a gentle nod as to the reason for the visit, booking a room upstairs in case the wait required rest and shifts to watch for the coming delivery.  

Goran and Vincent retired to one the tables, Armand however moved to where a small crowd had gathered, a large Norse man sat at the table, arm-wrestling Men at arms and any who would challenge him.  Armand could not resist throwing down gold on the Norseman while waiting for food to arrive.

As the door of the inn flung open again, a large man in a broad hat entered, clad in fine black garb, he was clearly not part of the entourage that had been making the commotion of bustling trunks and servants.  Removing his cloak, he was armed with two fine pistols that hung from his waist, accompanied by a fine sabre sheathed at his side, another finely crafted dagger on his spare flank.

The man marched across the room to the bar, demanding the best room, finding that it was occupied, he was not discouraged, demanding the next best room available and the finest wine served.  Taking a seat in the centre of the room, his eyes crossed over all the occupants, coming to rest of the beautiful sword that hung from Goran’s hip. His eyes also came to rest briefly on Armand, carrying the same form of weapons as himself, yet not anywhere close to the quality.  The man was loud and confident, to Armand who had taken an interest, he was either an extremely rich and gifted fighter, or a fake, and dressed for a role he had no business in playing.

As the food arrived eventually for the three travellers, a woman dressed in the simple garb of a servant emerged from upstairs, heading straight for the large arm wrestling Norseman.  Her words caused an uproar. Bruno stood at his full height, a monster of a man. The words spoken were for him to retire at the request of his master. Goran had the slight look on his face of measuring the giant up in case a brawl would break out, however Bruno, the giant scraped his pile of gold from the table and marched upstairs, a scowl plastered across his face.

As more time passed, Goran and Armand ate and drank hesitantly, constantly scanning the room for the contact they had been given the description of.  Four more guests arrived, a distinguished young man and woman flanked by two large guards. By the way they walked, Goran could tell they were military men, or at least were at some point.  They spoke to Sander before moving directly up the stairs, bottles of fine wine in hand. Before Armand could put his tongue back in his mouth from the appearance of the young and beautiful woman, the door flung open again, this time revealing a man clad in dark robes, the room went silent as all recognised the man as a priest of Mor, the god of death.

After the priest spoke with Sander for some time he exited the inn, only to return a few minutes later accompanied by three other priests, between them carrying a coffin.  It had been arranged that the four would keep one room, the priests and body would reside inside for the duration of the night.

As the room came back to life with the retirement of the priests, again the door opened to reveal a tall and powerfully built woman, also of Norse appearance, her shield lay at the door with her cloak, her sword, short and wide still hanging at her side.  As she moved through the tables, the large man dressed in finery let out a small sound of respect and lust, yet the woman was more offended by the comment of a man she passed, making comments about her buttocks, she spun and floored the man with one punch.

The rules of the Inn had been explained to Goran, Armand and Vincent, no violence.  Armand jumped to his feet immediately, flanking the woman and passing Sander a god coin in front of the woman to cover the damage and apologise for the disturbance.  Sander spoke to the woman about her actions before allowing her to sit and rest due to Armand’s intervention. Armand also ordered the woman a drink, introducing himself, Ursula, a strong woman, Armand did not know if he should be afraid or impressed.

Goran had taken position at the table where the finely dressed man was sipping his expensive wine.  Bernhardt Von Schwertblitz, a man well-travelled, he could not resist the conversation about how Goran had come into possession of a weapon so fine.

After sharing a drink, Goran took his leave and moved back to Vincent, watching the room for any signs of their contact.  Armand also approached Bernhardt, another conversation regarding his exploits and a respect for a fellow swordsman. Bernhardt sported long golden locks, a well maintained beard and long moustache, his appearance was not that of scars under closer inspection, again Armand could not help but think that a man with so little scars was not a real fighter.  Also eventually taking he leave, Armand sat on the opposite side of the drinking hall, watching the room and making constant eye contact with Goran to make sure they were both on task.

Another three travellers clad in dark robes entered the tavern, each of whom sporting beards and weathered faces, none of them the man being watched for, ordering drinks and keeping to themselves, they eventually payed for a room and traversed the stairs multiple times in search of food and wine.

Another servant from the entourage entered the large space from the stair case, issuing orders for all members of the entourage to retire for the evening.  After a short time, all of the servants had withdrawn to the boarding rooms on the ground floor, some of the men at arms joining them, others retiring upstairs.  The common room was hushed with the sudden removal of the many occupants who had retired.

After a short while Bruno emerged from atop the stairs, a sly grin on his face at the sight of all of the Cadre having been removed from the main common room.  Moving quietly down the stairs Bruno took up his seat at the table Armand had been occupying, explaining that this was his table, meaning no offence, Armand withdrew ordering a large drink for both Bruno and Ursula who occupied different tables.  After Bruno had destroyed more arms belonging to the various occupants, Ursula stood next to him, challenging him to an arm wrestle. Hesitant, Bruno accepted as the prize was five gold. Every put money down, Goran, Armand, Vincent, Bernhardt, everyone.  After a well pitched battle, more gold changed hands before Bruno sweated out his victory, eventually pinning Ursula’s hand against the table edge.

As the excitement of the dual faded, Bruno continued to wrestle until the pickings were slim.  Many of the various occupants were starting the fade, passing out from the sound of the hammering rain and the mass intake of drink. Armand was the first to fade, expressing to the others that he would retire to their room for the first time, asking for an hour before changing with the next man in need of rest.

Heading upstairs, Armand could see the corridor leading to where the entourage was occupying.  Fully armoured men at arms guarding one of the doors. Entering the room they had hired, a large arm chair sat in the corner, two single beds along the closest wall, the small window revealing the dim flashes of distant lightning.

Sitting in the chair Armand dozed as best he could as the sound of the rain rocked him to a brief sleep.

Downstairs, Goran decided to take a walk across the courtyard in search of their contact, having seen no sign of him previously, Goran’s patience was wearing thin.  Vincent also began to move around the room, looking for signs of the contact who had yet failed to reveal himself.

The three strange men clad in dark clothes, boatmen from what their appearance said, retired upstairs, the sound of their boots echoing along the wooden corridor, coming to rest within a room directly across the hall from where Armand was resting.

As Goran re-entered the tavern, his cloak freshly drenched, his eyes were showing signs of irritation at the lack of anyone coming that matched the description.

Another servant appeared at the top of the stairs, summoning Bruno back to his room, angry and wild, Bruno dismissed the servant who immediately retreated.  Returning a few moments later, the servant again demanded Bruno back to bed, explaining that the “Lady” knows he is out of bed. Again Bruno stood, towering over the table, trudging back up the stairs, the servant staying well out of arms reach.

As the night grew darker, one of the priests came marching down the stairs, Vincent watching him carefully, the priest passed more coins to Sander, as Goran also watched, he was sure that the hand extending the coins to Sander was made of nothing other than bones, a sight that shocked Goran.  As the priest returned upstairs, Ursula immediately moved to Sander, exchanging coins of her own, Vincent reading her lips explained to Goran that she mentioned to Sander she worked for the Directorate and was on official business regarding the priests. Ursula moved back to her seat as Armand stumbled down the stairs to re-join his fellow guild members.

The short fat man Gustav also emerged a short time later dressed in a silk nightshirt and dressing gown, ordering a large bottle of brandy before returning upstairs.

Goran engaged with Armand, expressing is vast disappointment of the evenings events.  Motioning to Vincent in his anger, the only positive he could sight was the conversation with Bernhardt regarding the fine weapons each man possessed.

Vincent entered the conversation as he joined the two men in discussion, Vincent and Goran both decided to head upstairs for some rest as Armand ordered another drink to keep himself awake.

Goran took to the arm chair in the room, Vincent took to the farthest single bed from the doorway.  As Goran looked around the room, a strange sight caught his eye. Under the bed closest to the door, what appeared to be a boot was visible.

Moving over to the bed, grabbing Vincent on the way, Goran slid the bed across the floor to reveal not only a boot, but one the boatmen that had come upstairs almost 30 minutes earlier, his head caved in, a small piece of paper pinned to his body, two letters written on it.  Goran told Vincent to get Armand from downstairs as he was not able to decipher the letters, knowing Armand was schooled, he may be able to identify the message.

Within a minute, Armand was standing over the body, removing the paper and reading the two letters, and entwined combination of B and C.

Armand left the room to check the corridor for any signs of movement while Goran and Vincent discussed between themselves how best to deal with the body.  As Armand took a few steps out of the room, a door down the hall creaked open, revealing the young man who entered with the woman and two guards, he motioned for Armand to approach.  His hand on his short blade, Armand was asked by the young man to deliver a message to the dormitory for a servant of the entourage named Hans, he would pay 10 gold for the delivery. Never one to shy away from coin, Armand took the message and the gold, swiftly moving downstairs to the dormitory, scanning the room for anyone that look out of place as to the body recently discovered.

Locating Hans amongst the masses of servants all in the throws of sleep was a challenge, however Armand discovered the man, escorting him back to the upstairs area.  While Armand stood in the corridor watching Hans disappear inside the room of the young man, another servant approached from the corridor occupied by the company of servants and men at arms.  Goran and Vincent emerged from their room, quickly informing Armand that they were heading to talk to Sander regarding their discovery. Telling them he would catch up, Armand was watching the servant closely who was beckoning him to approach.

Armand advance on the servant, small and quiet, the servant explained that Gustaf, the fat man, desired to see him.  Again puzzled by the request, Armand moved down the corridor past the fully armoured men on guard at the largest doorway.  A slight knock on the door, it opened immediately to show Gustaf looking worried and shaky.

Armand entered Gustaf’s room, one of the finest in the establishment.  Gustaf explained that there were men here trying to blackmail him, three of them.  Gustaf explained that he needed the men removed from the premises, preferably from life.  Armand was curious, he always desired to test his steel, however in a full inn, soldiers and drunks everywhere, this was going to be a challenge.

The offer of 250 gold pieces was more than Armand had seen in some time, yet knowing the risk, his demand of 300 was met instantly, whatever the issue was with these men, it was clearly worth paying for.  The men in question, the three men occupying the room across the hall from Armand, Vincent and Goran, one of these men, already dead under the bed.

Armand took his leave of Gustaf, promising to return when the deed was done.  Goran and Vincent were explaining the predicament to Sander who in turn was shocked and appalled at the rules being broken so grievously in his lodgings.  Demanding that Goran, Vincent and Armand made no mention of it, he did not want to offend the entourage and clearly wealthy patron upstairs with the news.

Armand caught Goran and Vincent at the counter with Sander, cutting into the conversation, Armand requested of Sander the master key to the room of the two men across the hall, explaining that they were the culprits and that the three of them would be happy to silence the potential threat in a manner that would be undiscovered to the company upstairs.

Goran, always keen for a fight did not hesitate, backing Armand’s judgement and taking the key from Sander.  Vincent had no choice but to follow the two fighters, Goran was already considering the night to be a lost cause, an opportunity to make some money was not something to be passed up.  On the stairs leading up to the room, the plan was simple, Goran would open the door, Armand would enter first with his blades, Goran and Vincent would clean up the last man.

Moving quietly, Goran managed to insert the key without any signs of activity inside the room other than the gentle hum of two voices talking.  Flinging the door open, Armand leapt into action, the two occupants sitting across from each other, completely taken by surprise. Armand’s sabre driving deep into the chest of the first man, all of Armand’s weight behind the thrust, causing the man to topple to the floor with Armand in tow as his grip on his sword was not relenting.  Vincent charged the remaining man only to miss his thrust and catch a returned slice from a dagger across his brow. Goran was the last man in, seeing Vincent recoil, Goran swung with the flat of his sword, collecting the man across the face, sending him to the floor in a daze. Armand was back on his feet, looking for another target, however Goran and Vincent were already hovering over the second man, Vincent had his blade at the man’s throat, demanding him to talk.

The man was tight lipped, it was clear this was not the first time he had been in a position where a blade was against his throat.

After Goran and Vincent worked for a few minutes in a vain attempt to get the man to talk, Goran felt he had no choice but to leave the man in the care of Armand for blood to certainly spill, Armand was still wiping the fresh blood from his sword the entire time that Goran and Vincent were asking questions.

After the man gave simple explanations as to why he would not talk, mainly due to the fact that if he did, he would be killed, clearly not worried about the possibility of being killed in the here and now.  Goran motioned to Armand, the swiftly took Vincent by the shoulder, explaining that they would wait downstairs.

Armand sat down next to the man, exchanging eye contact for what seemed like an hour.  The man seemed strangely calm, not they eyes of a man likely to die within minutes. Armand spoke first, he did not want to kill the man.  He was puzzled by the initials BC or CB found on the parchment that this man carried as well as the corpse in the other room. The man explained, if he was to live, he would owe Armand a favour, Armand however would have to find him and his people.

Armand explained that two bodies would need to be in this room, if he was to let the man live, he would need to disappear, the body next door would need to be moved in to this room.  The man agreed, Armand was uncertain, but in the end agreed to spare the man, enough was happening that was beyond his control to take yet another life in this confined space.

After the body was moved into the room, Armand withdrew, allowing the man to escape by any means he saw fit.  Armand then knocked on the door of Gustaf again, this time collecting the bad of gold containing 300 pieces.

Armand returned downstairs, thinking to himself that even if this mission for Titus was a bust, at least it was not a total loss.

Goran and Vincent had begun drinking again, it was clear that sleep would elude them this evening, instead sitting at the table with Bernhardt, sharing fine wine.

It did not take long before a loud banging persisted on the main doors of the tavern, Sander refusing to let anyone in after midnight.  It wasn’t long before the doors flung open, a rabble of five men stumbling into the common room, clearly intoxicated. The man in charge, a tall, bald man demanding to know where Frederik Van Scheldt was.  Clearly upset, the intoxicated man told of how he had seen his prey enter this establishment accompanied by two men and his wife. Sander attempted to diffuse the man, however a slap in the face from the drunken brute began a brawl between the new entrants and the patrons within.  The commotion was loud and violent. One of the men balled up his fist and laid his hand on Bernhardt’s shoulder, only to find that before he could blink, a finely crafted dagger was thrust through his leg and twisted with ease through the tissue, Bernhardt wasted no time.

The brawl was short lived, Goran, Vincent and Armand all landing several blows on multiple drunken assailants, other patrons within the common room also swarming, Ursula knocking one cold with a single punch.  The drunks were thrown violently into the rain as they were all bloodies and semi conscious, the leader of the crew, bleeding from every part of his face, several teeth missing began dragging himself towards the main gate of the courtyard, his tail between his legs.

As the scramble of the brawl died down, thudding and loud noises emitted from the top of the stairs, Sander running up immediately.  The Priests room sourced the noise, only to fall silent as quickly as the noise had begun. Something strange was happening in the minds of Goran, Armand and Vincent, this was a strange night to be on an errand.  As the chairs and tables were put back in place in the aftermath of the brawl, a howling scream echoed once more from upstairs. One of the servants of the entourage emerged surrounded by men at arms.

The men at arms surround the room, keeping all from exiting the common room, there has been a murder.  Bruno, the mighty arm wrestler has been found dead in his room, a dagger buried between his shoulders. As the news circulated around the room, a finely dressed Lady stepped slowly down the stairs, her authority was clear, this was the leader of the Entourage.  Whispers began to emanate around various tables as a servant came to the side of the Lady carrying a dagger drenched in blood. Goran sneered as his hand immediately went to his waistband, only to find his sheath empty and dagger missing. The Lady asked for the guilty party to come forward, within moments one of the servants was pointing at Goran, who in turn was surrounded by the men at arms.

As the discussion continued, Goran’s explanation was simple, in the brawl that had taken place earlier, his dagger must have been removed or stolen, also taking offense at the notion of his stupidity of leaving a murder weapon stuck in a victim.  It was decided that Goran and his associates, Vincent and Armand were to be disarmed, locked in their room under guard until the Black Hats arrival in the morning to have them arrested. Goran again was displeased, refusing to give up his sword easily, head-butting the first man to try and take it from him.  After another argument, eventually Goran yielded, moving up the stairs with his compatriots and stepping inside his room.

As the three remained locked in their room, more screams of discovered bodies were heard through the door, Armand, Goran and Vincent were not surprised, it was always going to be a matter of time before everyone was discovered.

Sleeping as best they could, the three were woken as the rain continued to pelt down through the darkness, barely two in the morning, less than an hour since they were locked in.  A servant entered the room, a finger to his lips, beckoning the three to follow. The empty corridor led them to a door that opened with a knock from the servant. Inside, Bernhardt sat with the Lady who had ordered the three locked up.

She explained in great detail, she was sorry for the disguise of having them locked up, she was on her way to Altdorf for a trial by combat, she had been accused by the Dammenblatz, a rival in the court, Bruno was her champion, however his recent murder has left her without a champion.  Convinced that this was the work of an assassin, she had appointed Bernhardt her new champion and that Goran, Vincent and Armand were to remain in the room, their weapons returned with Bernhardt as she was sure that the Dammenblatz’s assassin would try again. The Lady conveyed she would clear everything with the Black Hats when they arrived in the morning, but this needed to be stopped.

Reluctantly, but more to the point, necessarily the three agreed.  The guards would remain on the door to their room so that nothing looked out of place, the four of them would wait for whatever was to come.

It did not take long, Armand, Goran and Vincent sat quietly against the walls of the room, Bernhardt sleeping in the bed, snoring loudly.  Armand was the first to hear the strange scuffling noise faintly echoing down the chimney of the room. Waking Goran silently, followed by Vincent, the three took up positions around the chimney as not to be seen.  Bernhardt was also awake, continuing to snore as to not alarm the would be assassin.

The scuffling sound continued, drawing closer until a shadow emerged from the fireplace, lean and gaunt.  Armand was the first to move, his sabre slicing at the shadow, Goran and Vincent also hacked and lunged. The shadow was fast, dodging and parrying several blows.  Armand catching the attacked on the side, however not slowing the assassin at all. Vincent shrieked as a knife sliced his thigh, sending him to the ground in searing pain, screaming of the burning pain.  Goran hacked again, making contact with the shoulder of the assassin only in turn to be sliced across the bicep. Goran recoiled as the burning agony of the blade caused him to let out a rough grimace. Armand continued to strike, connecting several times only to have the blows shaken off by the shadow clad figure.

A loud pistol shot rang out inside the room, Bernhardt had held his fire until now, his pistol shot narrowly missing the head of the assassin.  Armand flinched at the shot, enough for the assassin to slice his blade across Armand’s face. Recoiling, Armand let loose wild upward swing of his sword, connecting with the face of the assassin, slicing his face in two, sending him flat on his back.  Armand gripped his face, yet he did not feel the intense burning the others had screamed about. The door flung open, men at arms storming the room to see the sight of Armand, one hand on his face, the other gripping his sword and pointing it at the assassins neck, Bernhardt levelling a pistol at the assassins chest, Vincent and Goran both stumbling to get a good look at the assassin.

The Lady entered the room, relieved to see her plan had worked, however the deep black scar that had formed across Armand’s face, Goran’s arm and Vincent’s leg proved to clearly be the work of a hired killer employing poison.

Bandaging their wounds, the three returned to their room, rest and pain relief their only immediate concern.

Morning brought with it new horrors, as the three left their room, a small huddle of servants were standing around the entrance to the room occupied by the priests of Morr.  All within the room had been sliced open, the coffin they carried, cracked and revealing a headless corpse, still warm. Ursula, the Norse woman was gone.

Standing in the courtyard, the Lady was in discussion with several Black Hats, explaining the night’s exploits. This time not a bunch of laughable stooges, but a group of professional looking watchmen, lead by Captain Theophilius Graveland. He quickly had all occupants split up and interrogated by his aides, Rainer Kuyper, Astrid Sterstaren and Wilhelm Hoogtoren. The Black Hats, who looked on Goran, Armand and Vincent with damning eyes allowed them to pass. As the three leaned against the main gate, a gaunt figure approached them.  Vincent immediately recognised the contact, exchanging the gold for the package given, punching the man in the face before taking his leave with Goran and Armand in tow.

Returning to the Gentleman’s Club, Armand, Goran and Vincent moved directly to Titus’s room.  Knocking on the door. Titus answered, his night cap still on his head. Taking one look at the three, bandaged and looking weak, he thanked them and took the package.  Armand also halted the door from being closed, passing Titus 18 gold pieces, his six percent of any money made before turning and moving back to the downward stairs, Goran nodded and also took his leave.

Sitting downstairs, drinking wine and chewing on cold meat, Armand and Goran were startled by the noises that begun upstairs.  Titus was clearly upset, something was wrong, very wrong.