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.
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