Private Tales To Whom The Law Applies

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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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.
 
  • Orc
Reactions: 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.
 
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Reactions: 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.
 
  • Cthuloo
Reactions: Szesh
Weapons were not uncommon in taverns in this part of the world. Szesh had a large hammer hanging at his side, a pleasantly carved but altogether lifeless hunk of steel, its magic long run dry. This man, who had just entered, was likewise armed, but it was odd for him to be armed from from his room. Perhaps with the short sword... but the crossbow?

Szesh ate, tearing off great heaps of meat and swallowing them unceremoniously. His black-on-black eyes swiveled invisibly towards the altercation occurring to his left. At first it could be passed of as a demanding patron asking for food, or perhaps his room was not suitable... but that was not the conversation that he heard.

He hadn't expected his waiting game to yield results so quickly. The armed man didn't seem like the underworld type, he carried himself too tall, but appearances could be deceiving. He took another huge bite of meat and tried to listen over the din of the tavern guests.

He didn't know who She was or what Her Law had to do with this. There weren't queens here... perhaps a mobster but they didn't usually portray themselves as lawgivers. A religious zealot? Perhaps. It was still unclear why this man was looking for the cellar, but for the moment their goals seemed aligned.

He leaned over towards the pair, the grease from his meal still shining on his scaled face and pieces of red meat amongst his ichor-black teeth. "Wise to answer," he rumbled at the terrified barkeep.
 
Trouble enough dealing with the man in front of him without worrying about the beast at the table. If the man had been pale before, he looked deathly so now. His eyes skipped back and forth between Szesh and Erin as if he were caught between a rock and a hard place.

The fellow did some quick math in his head and apparently came to the right conclusion. "You've made me a dead man," he said as he stepped back from the counter. Erin did not reply to the comment; the man had made himself what he was. Erin had not made him stray from the path, nor had the Seeker forced the man to work with the unsavory elements of the city.

The man fumbled with something under the counter; a set of keys on a heavy keyring.

Erin turned to look at the speaker briefly. "Appreciate the assistance. Rather not have to force the issue in the open," he said to Szesh. The enormous dragon-kin completely failed to intimidate the inquisitor. Protected by the Goddess, Erin feared literally nothing.

Several other sets of eyes were watching with naked interest. Perhaps they thought it was a shakedown - was, after a fashion - and they thought they might have something to gain out of it all.
 
  • Ctuhlu senpai
Reactions: Szesh
Szesh returned to his normal sitting posture as the barkeep clumsily gathered the keys. "You have business... in the cellar?" He had become better at human speech over the years, but his mouth was not well-suited for it. His teeth were too long, his lips too thin. In the first years of his exile he had scarcely been able to communicate beyond pointed grunts and growls. Admittedly that worked in many cases, though it would have made this collaboration complicated.

He took a slow pour from the large mug of tepid water he had been given, and noted that the tavern had become ever so slightly quieter since the altercation. Oh, it was still a healthy roar of discordant music and voices, but those closest to the pair of obvious fighters had taken an interest. Not at all odd, though Szesh, given the complete disregard for any type of subtlety.

It had never been his strong suit.

That this other man, either criminal or vigilante, seemed very disinterested in Szesh's appearance was a comfort. They could skip the stages of fear, awe, or hatred and move right to business.

"I can join. Single trip is... efficient." He nodded his huge head to the man who was now moving nervously with the keyring. "Less stress for our friend."
 
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Reactions: Erin the Black
"You could say that," Erin replied in a gravelly voice. He was acutely aware of the attention he had attracted, and equally did not care. The Goddess would protect him if it was Her will, and as he was here to do Her work he did not feel that there would be any more trouble than what he himself intended to stir up.

The keep had managed to slip a key into the lock and turn it with a loud click. He pushed the door open and stood aside.

The Seeker was acutely aware that once he went through that door, there would likely only be the one way out. Once he went in, it was likely to be a fight to escape. Didn't matter to him, though; the crime he sought redress for was unforgivable. What was a few more chips in the armor? Another dent in service to the Lady?

Erin turned to regard the draconian. "The stress that this creature feels is immaterial to me." He looked at the bounty hunter with an appraising eye, quick and businesslike. Ever did she provide when need arose. Erin decided that his instinct would serve here, and he felt little threat from Szesh. "Erin," he offered, gesturing with his head the now open door. "Should know that you are signing up for one hell of a ride. Welcome to join," he added, and waited.
 
As much as Szesh's rigid face would allow, he smiled. Just a faint stretch of the lips, it had been an alien gesture to him until just recently. Despite the perpetual pain etched across his back, he had started to take a more accepting view of himself within the last decade. He had a few choice individuals to thank for that, and more than a few difficult lessons.

"Szesh," he took Erin's hand for a moment in his large, clawed grasp. His name was more hissing utterance than language, but human tongues could make a passable-enough attempt at it. "I have ridden before."

He surveyed Erin. He was well-enough armed to be a bounty hunter as well... but he did not carry himself like one. He didn't seem to have the instincts, the all-awareness, the ever-lurking sense that you were only inches above the law at best. To the contrary, he seemed almost oblivious of the scene he was creating, with no care for alerting anyone to his goals or presence. He could just be supremely confident, but that would make him either a fool or a fantastically talented individual. Szesh had found it was usually the former.

Szesh took two large strides into the cramped entrance, pulling his head and wings in tight against the low ceiling. He was tempted to ask Erin what his goals were here, but decided against it. They would be made clear soon enough. If we was after the same bounty... well... not everyone liked to share.
 
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Reactions: Erin the Black
Erin gave the draconian a cold grin and a nod in response to the comment. The common was difficult to parse in comparison to most, but he was gifted in many regards. Communication was important in his line of work, after all.

The passage took them to a door set in the floor that led into the cellar, ostensibly. As the stepped aside to allow them to open the way forward, Erin moved swiftly and brutal. He was an efficient man and his mailed fist struck the man just below the sternum, driving the breath from his lungs. An armored elbow delivered to the back of the head as he went down with a carefully moderated amount of force ensured that the man would not rise again for some time.

"He'll live," he grated as he pushed the fellow out of the way. The door had been closed behind them and it was unlikely anyone had heard the swift blows nor had they heard the man hit the floor. "We'll have some time to get ahead of any trouble behind us. There are other ways out."

That was something taken of faith. Most lairs had bolt holes and many ways out. What good a den that an enemy held the only way out?

"We must move quickly. If we are not quick, he will slip away." This said as he opened the passage forward. A set of exceptionally steep steps descended down into dimly lit darkness.
 
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Reactions: Szesh
Szesh made the assumption that Erin had been here before, if he knew of other exits. It was an incorrect assumption, but when one decides to partner on the fly one must make certain allowances. He should not trust anything Erin said completely, nor should Erin completely trust him. It was the way of things. It was business.


"We must move quickly. If we are not quick, he will slip away."

Szesh nodded with a soft grunt, causing his horns to lightly tap the ceiling of the passage. "You seek 'Duke?'"

"The Duke" was the rather unoriginal moniker adopted by his quarry. A mid-tier member of an underground crime family, he ran nearly every illicit enterprise in this little backwater. He had made countless enemies, but apparently just recently angered someone with enough money to put a price on his head.

The tunnel was longer than expected and they were clearly no longer beneath the inn by the time light began to flicker from a door at the far end.