Private Tales To Whom The Law Applies

[Erin the Black]

The building stank of blood and worse, silent as the grave itself. Well, except for the buzz of flies that had crowded in from the marshes of Allir. The only discordant note was the laughter of children, muffled but near to hand.

The inquisitor knelt on the earthen floor hands clasped in front of him as he offered silent prayer to the Grey Lady. Maybe she would forgive him for all of the violence he had brought into the world at the end of his life. Maybe not. It was always a matter of intrigue that Seekers such as himself should debase themselves with so many violations of the Law in the pursuit of upholding it.

Odd how faith sometimes contradicted itself so.

He wasn't exactly sorry for the things he had done in Her name, of course. Every soul should seek to follow a life by Her precepts; harm not another, exploit not another, lift others up rather than cast them down. It was just that someone had to make sure that others did not take advantage of the faithful. Turn the other cheek, so She said. Alas, there were those who would see it for weakness and would then violate every rule of the faith.

Not believing in the Lady wasn't a crime. Violating Her Law? Quite another thing.

Prayer finished the man stood slowly. Behind him the cooling body of one such sinner slumped in the rickety, half rotten chair he had been tied to. Torture wasn't usually a great method of getting information. Erin didn't think anything he had said once he had begun his grisly work was worth the breath expelled to speak it.

But there had been bits and pieces before he had started. The rest had been punishment for doing that to a mother and her son.

Stepping outside was like shedding a weight from his shoulders. Closing the door behind him, he shook his head. A tall man in heavy armor, the visor of the helmet thrown open to display an almost ordinary face, he only stood out in that this part of the city did not see his like. Children ran about in ratty clothes, their middling families eyeing him with suspicion but not fear. No, their fear would be directed to the thug. Not an apparent solider - armor and the great, two-handed club of a sword as well as the myriad other blades on his person named him such. A soldier for whom though?

No one these people likely knew.

The Outer City, near the Spinning Wheel. An inn, by the sound of it. The deceased ruffian had said that the place he was looking for was accessed through the cellar. Underground work was not something he particularly enjoyed, but he could handle it.

He would have to ditch the great sword and settle on the more workmanlike blades. The crossbow might be of use this time, too.

The shark liked to make statements. Funny.

So did Erin.

 

[Szesh]

Bounty hunting was a good profession for someone like Szesh. Draconians were rare, near non-existent beyond their mountain villages, and his presence in any setting was obvious. Even if his features had been human, he still stood a head above even the tallest man with a bulk to match. Add to that reflective silver scales, imposing horns, large wings, and a spined tail... he stood out. He intimidated most people, outright frightened others. Entering a business in the hopes of finding employment was not something he was in any hurry to do. It was uncomfortable for everyone involved.

But no one needed to hire him for a bounty. He just needed to show up with a body, sometimes breathing and sometimes not. Funny how his appearance mattered less when he arrived with the prize in-hand. It was also easy to demand a bonus if the payer had a weak spine, or bladder.

He probably wouldn't be able to demand a bonus for this one, though. The bounty was already heavy, and it was being offered by the City Watch itself. Government did not tend to be flexible with their payouts... but whomever was sponsoring them this time apparently had deep pockets.

Szesh entered the Spinning Wheel the same way he entered every tavern: by ducking low and pulling his wings in as tightly as he could to get through the doorway. The floorboards groaned beneath his frame as usual, and his inky black eyes adjusted invisibly to the dim. His entrance caused a momentary lull in conversation, but it did not last long. This was Alliria after all, and while he was likely the strangest thing many of the patrons had seen today, he was probably not the strangest they had seen this year.

The heady scents of roasted meat and fruits hit his large nostrils, and Szesh took note of his hunger. He had not eaten since this morning, having spent the majority of the day tracking down any hints to his target's location. This inn had been mentioned by a handful of loose tongues, but the trail deadened here. Nothing obvious at first glance.

He approached the bar, moving deliberately slowly so as not to fray any more nerves than necessary. He did not sit, the shabby stools did not look up to the challenge, and instead bent low to the counter and rested his massive forearms there.

The innkeeper could hardly pretend he did not see Szesh. "What're ye havin?" A consummate professional.

"Venison," Szesh answered in a thick, reptilian accent. "Four of your regular servings."

"Any ale t'night?"

"No ale. Water."

The innkeeper nodded and took the order to the kitchen. Szesh swiveled his large head to survey the crowd. There was no sense in being subtle. No one here matched the description of the diabolical loan-shark he was after, but Szesh wasn't expecting to see him in a place like this. No doubt this was a meeting point, or a point of contact for a man who went to another man and so on and so forth.

Szesh would do what he always did. Watch patiently, pick up on any clues from the patrons, the staff, or any unusual features of the building itself. More often than not, people told you everything you needed to know if you waited long enough. If that didn't work, he would press the innkeeper for information, and threaten to burn the place down if he thought he was being lied to. Not very cerebral, but it tended to get results.

 

[Erin the Black]

The door to the common room opened, and the inquisitor entered.

He had shed the great two-hander in favor of his one-handed blades, leaving his preferred weapon at his lodgings. The crossbow he had mentioned hung on his back in its place, a handful of bolts strapped to the side and one set on the center rail for storage.

His eyes swept the common room. The room looked back, but only for a moment; unlike the draconian, Erin himself was wholly unremarkable in his person. He marked the large figure himself, though; a quick assessment was all that was required to recognize another warrior of some caliber or another. No immediate affiliation stood out to him. Not for the first time, he cursed his unfamiliarity with the southern lands and their peoples.

By all rights, he should never have been forced to leave home.

In silence, he crossed the room with a heavy tread, eyes hard and face impassive. He reached the counter and stood there, waiting, while the proprietor did whatever they were doing in the back. He did not have to wait long before the man stepped out, plate in hand. He hurried by with the plate, setting it out before the draconian, and then turned to head back the way he had come.

Erin reached out and seized the man by the arm as he went past the second time, to an indignant grunt. "'scuse me, but 'm busy righ-" he began, but Erin pulled him closer.

"Cellar. Passage. Now." As unsubtle as a blow to the head. No need to mince words. The brief interaction was already garnering attention, but the Seeker did not particularly care. Someone might intercede on behalf of what they assumed was an innocent business owner. It was always possible that the thug he was looking for kept a lookout here, too.

It would be trouble, of course...but the Goddess always provided.

"'aven't t'foggiest what you on about," the man said, tugging at his arm. The quickness of the reply and and tone of voice said everything Erin needed to know: there was, in fact, something here.

"You are not in this," the Seeker said in a gravelly voice, flat and cold, "but you could end up there. He has violated Her Law in doing what he does. You, as well, by providing cover." Cold eyes regarded the keeper. Erin tightened his grip. People behind him were getting up and finding somewhere else to be, sensing with that keen city intuition that there was about to be trouble. "Show me the way in, or I can make time for you as well."

The man paled. Erin waited for the answer either way.