Solo A Man About Town

[Elias Caldera]

51st Day of Winter, 518 Av

“Excuse me, sir. Are you sure there’s nothing I can get for…”

The waitress’s question trailed off uncertainly as a particularly harsh gaze rose to meet hers. She swallowed, looking around in nervous apprehension for help that would not come, and as the stryfer’s glare intensified, the young slave eventually surrendered, bowing in apology as she skittered off back to wherever it was she had come from. Elias swore if she came back to pester him one more damn time, he’d make her eat that damn tray in her hands…

Yes, he was in that kind of mood today.

A kind of mood it seemed everyone could sense. His barely contained rage permeated every action he made, every look he gave, and the fury bottled up within him flowed like a palpable stink from his person. A stink everyone seated around him at the small outdoor café was catching a whiff of and trying to pretend wasn’t there. He sat alone amidst the quiet din of the lunch time crowd, but his uneasy presence was felt by all those around him as if he shared a seat at each and every one of their tables.

Petching Jorah.

Elias was going to skin that fat petch alive for having the audacity to dictate a meeting place to him, and in public of all places, as if the crowds would keep him tame. Caldera was not a man who was told where to go and what do by the likes of that cowardly commandant, yet they both knew he would be here none the less. He had something Elias wanted, and the bastard knew it.

Just then a flash of movement caught the swordsman’s attention, and he recognized the familiar little face weaving amidst the diners and servants attending them. He knew which one of the little shykes it was by the way every nose it scampered past was upturned or clenched tight in disgust. “Reek.” The stryfer grumbled as the scrawny, blonde haired boy shuffled up to his table with a ghastly gap toothed grin upon his filthy face. Reek, as he was so adequately dubbed, was one of Zeb’s kids, a guttersnipe that worked for the little thief prince and his gaggle of cut purses. Occasionally, Elias would have the twerps run messages for him or keep an eye out whenever he needed. Today however, the game was playing escort.

“Found him for you.” The gutter rat giggled proudly, pointing an impossibly dirty finger towards the entrance he’d come from. In the doorway looking back at him stood Commandant Hercan. His arms finely polished and his attire neatly pressed, his combed hair and lack of a ball gag made for an impressively different impression than the first time the two of them had met. He had a feeling the guardsman would have liked to forget that little ordeal however.

His musings were interrupted as Reek’s hand shoved itself towards him open palmed. The boy looked at him expectantly, and Elias’s eyes began to water. God the smell of him… He rummaged around his purse as quickly as he could, planting a silver coin in the rotten runt’s grasp before he began to gag. “A bath, boy,” The soldier gasped through the tears, “For the love of all that is holy, buy yourself a bath.” Rook went pale at the words, as if Elias had just proposed a public execution instead of a vigorous scrubbing, but the Caldera’s attention shifted as another approached.

“Huh, little shyke made me pay him too.” Jorah Hercan grunted, stepping up to the table. The stryfer growled, making to lunge for the double dipping little shyke stain, but Reek was gone with a squeak, scampering off and out of sight before Elias could get his hands on him. The Caldera grumbled irritably under his breath, then motioned for Jorah to join him at the table. “Sit.” He instructed, but the guardsman raised a placating hand. “No, I won’t be long. This will-”

“Sit.” The sorcerer commanded once more, a tinge of something dangerous leaking into his tenor as he glared up at the man from beneath darkening shadows of his pale brow. Jorah hesitated, looking around the establishment and farther still as if trying to assess something, then after a moment, reluctantly pulled up a seat. He’d been making sure his men were all in place before they began, no doubt…

“Where is she, Jorah?” Elias began immediately.

“Like I told you-”

“You’ve had more than enough time. Where is she, Jorah?” he said again, drumming his fingers against the table. Just looking at the man was stirring him into a frenzy, and every wasted word that slithered of his serpent’s tongue only served to wake his rage. He had no patience for this!

“Now listen to me, Calder-”

“Tell me where the petch she is!” Elias barked, smashing his fist against the table. Cutlery clanged and clattered off the side upon the impact and Jorah snarled, his dark gaze locking defiantly with the stryfers. “Or what!?” The guardsman snapped. “Or you’ll do what?!” The two glared at each other for a quiet moment, hatred seething like a flame between them until at last, Jorah seemed to remember where he was. Anxiously, bitterly, his eyes darted from side to side to take in the nervous glances being thrown their way after the outburst. The chubby man leaned in, his contempt still plain as day. “This isn’t some petching whorehouse on the edge of town, and I’m not hanging from a gods damned chain anymore. You won’t make a move against me here, you wouldn’t petching dare! Not in front of all these people” He hissed, keeping his voice low but his words just as sharp as they needed to be. “Now you listen to me, you uppity little cunt, I’m no one’s bitch, least of some arrogant nobody like you. You think you can just run in here and tell me wha-”

Jorah’s eyes went wide with shock as Elias ripped his dagger from its sheath and stabbed it into the table between with a resounding ‘bang!’

“What the petch!”

Hercan reeled in his seat, nearly falling out of the thing as instinct forced him backwards and away. Panicked, his eyes went not to the blade, but those around them, the citizens of Ravok who would see such a spectacle and behold the scandal. It was his reputation he cared more in that instant than his own life…

But no one was looking.

No one had even stirred.

“Jorah.” An impossibly calm voice said somewhere in the distance, but the man was staring in confusion at the diners, clearly on edge by the fact all their backs were still turned on him, as if they had all in unison decided to simply ignore the situation. It was more than that though, and the guard could see it. They weren’t just looking away, they’d all gone rigid and motionless. Everyone had simply… stopped.

“Jorah.” It came again, gentle but insistent and this time the guardsman’s attention slowly swiveled back to the blue eyed demon sitting across from him. “Take the knife, Jorah.”

Hercan’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”
“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”
“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”
“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”
“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”
“Take the knife, Jorah.” “Take the knife, Jorah.”

The blood drained from the commandant’s face as in horror, he watched Elias’s lips move to form the words, but instead a dozen different voices from all around him cried out as one. He whirled around in his seat, staring in abstract bewilderment at the people who had all abruptly swung their heads around and spoken in unison. They were staring at him now, all kinds, young, old, men and women, they were just sitting there, staring at him -through him. To have beheld that which seized them would have been a nightmarish sight; a dozen oozing tendrils of hypnotics domination slithered from Elias like spider legs each one standing atop the head of a victim, snatching hold their thoughts and corrupting their minds with a will they had no choice but to obey. “What is-” but again the words tumbled from his lips like sand, faltering before they even had a chance as Jorah realized with a start the blade Elias had slammed into the table was now firmly in his grasp. Even the guardsman was not spared the spider's touch. He looked up with a yelp, pale and fearful, only to go rigid as he beheld the sorcerer. Blood seeped from the mage’s eyes like crimson tears, and Jorah saw him raise a gloved hand to his throat, miming it as if he were holding a blade.

With a mewling groan, the guardsman glanced down to see his hand was mimicking the gesture like a mirror, the blade now at his throat and the fear thick in the air.

“You know what makes us so different, Hercan?”

“Wait, wait, wait! It was some big shot family man, that’s who took your girl. I just don’t know who yet!”

“Fear.”

“Ok, ok, hold on.” The blade quivered against his neck, shaking with the very hand that wielded it. “It was the Larks! It was the petching Larks. Some bastard called Radcliffe, please! I just don't know where she is!”

“You’re afraid of what they’ll learn. What they’ll do. What they’ll say… You’re terrified of so much.” Elias kept his tone reserved and collected even as the magic flowed from his mind, even as the blood seeped across his scarred lips. His gaze never once shifted from Jorah’s even as the man writhed and squirmed in his chair. “Me… I’m afraid there’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends. I’m afraid of what I’ll do when I finally just… snap.”

“I can find her!” Jorah wailed, feeling the dagger drive itself against his throat, feeling the thoughts that weren’t his own warping his mind.

“Say her name.” Elias hissed, his facade of calm faltering ever so slightly.

“What?”

“Say her name!” “Say her name!”
“Say her name!” “Say her name!”
“Say her name!” “Say her name!”
“Say her name!” “Say her name!”
“Say her name!” “Say her name!”
“Say her name!” “Say her name!”

It felt like a hundred different voices all reaching a dreadful crescendo at once, and the guardsman shut his eyes against the sound, still trembling against the dagger’s point. “Shiress.” He gasped, feeling the trickle of warm blood snake its way down his collar.

Elias nodded. “Don’t forget it again, commandant. Or the next time I have you take that knife, it’ll be to carve her name into your wife -into your children, and there will be nothing you can do to stop me, because there will be nothing you can do to stop yourself.”

The clatter of the dagger upon the tabletop was drowned out in the din of idle chatter and clinking forks against plates. The restaurant had returned to normal order around them, and everyone went about their business as usual, enjoying meals, catching up with old friends, taking about the strange events of the season. It was as if nothing at all had happened, and the only ones who seemed to remember what had just transpired were Elias and a panting Jorah.

“Find her, commandant.” The hypnotist said, rising gently from his seat and walking away without another word. “Or I’ll find you.”

[Elias Caldera]

A Few Hours Later

Elias could feel himself slipping into a stupor, and not the kind he’d nearly been reduced to after his confrontation with Jorah either.

He had left the establishment with a stride as confident as it was clean, but the instant he’d reached the nearby alley, the hypnotist had collapsed against the wall, barely keeping his footing as the waves of nausea and pain wreaked havoc within his body. He had gone too far with his magic, much, much too far, and it wasn’t just the overgiving he was talking about. Those were regular people he’d been manipulating –his people- the same citizens he’d sworn to protect and uphold, yet he had driven himself into their minds like a stake and danced them around like puppets upon strings they could not comprehend. There was a line and he crossed it without a care. What was worse, was that Elias knew he’d have gone further still if he’d felt the need to. He knew he’d have done damn near anything just to get her back…

Guldo had found him there a little while later, snapping the stryfer out of his dazed slump with an unexpected hand on his shoulder. He and his boys had been nearby to distract Jorah’s assortment of minions who’d been positioned to jump to their master’s aid should the need arise. They’d been waylaid as planned, but not harmed. Never the less, the swordsman had nearly cleaved the dumb bastard in two out of sheer instinct and surprise. Then he’d nearly cleaved him in two anyway for being foolish enough to sneak up on him like that in the first place. Showing weakness in front of men like these he now found himself in the company of was a quick way to get himself shanked in the back. He needed to project strength always, but now that he was sitting in the warehouse, staring at a map of the city and being lectured at like a schoolboy, it was difficult to project much of anything other than stupefying numbness he’d often feel in any classroom. That, and the effects of the overgiving still hadn’t passed.

At least he was bleeding from the petching eyes anymore.

“You get that?” he heard Guldo ask from over his shoulder. Elias stirred, grumbling something non-committal under his breath. He tried in vain to lift his head out of his hands, but the effort proved too grand a task, and he eventually slumped back into his own puddle of drool forming in his palm. Guldo sighed irritably, the big man pacing around the table to the other side with a noticeable air of frustration about him as he came to a stop and shot the pale stryfer a demanding look. “The Luchenzo brothers!” Elias balked defensively, “You were talking about the Luchenzo brothers. They own the five points, I know, I know.”

Guldo gave him a disapproving look, the kind fathers gave their children after they’d caught them with their hands in the cookie jar. Elias hated it. “No,” the crime lord corrected patiently, smacking a finger on the map where his younger counterpart had indicated. “They run the five points, and everything from there” he continued, tracing his meaty digit along a path that quickly began to grow absurd in its implication, “to the basilica.” He finished, making a large circle around where he’d drawn a line.

Elias’s eyes widened and for the first time since the two of them had sat down to talk things through, the young man was finally paying attention. “What?” He demanded. “What do you mean they run all of it? That’s practically all of the old wharfs… what happened to the triad? The accord?”

Guldo scoffed, sinking into a stool and folding his bulky arms. “The triad? I haven’t heard that name in nearly… hell, seven years now. That’s how long ago the Luchenzo made their move and wiped out the other two gangs. It all went down in one night, and by the time Ravok was waking up the next morning, there was a new regime ruling over the southside piers.”

“Petch…” Elias breathed, eyes now taking in the map before them with a new found level of appreciation and respect. “So, the Penitent…”

“Gone.”

“The Barrow Boys?”

“Sleeping with the fishes.”

“…Petch.”

“Things have changed a lot since you’ve last played the game, lad. This ain’t the same city you left behind.” That much was true it seemed. Elias had underestimated the nature of Ravok. This was the city of change after all, he should have known better to than to expect things to be just as they were when he’d left so many years ago. He’d just been apprentice back then, freshly pinned and new to the black, but they’d assigned him to the city, to the criminals and the thugs. Back then that was all the young boy had known, the crimes and the gangs and the means in which the Ebonstryfe manipulated both for their own gains and the glory of their god. The realization that he no longer had even that to his credit was… upsetting to say the least.

“That’s a lot of money.” Elias remarked, still focused on the splayed out piece of parchment between them.

“That it is. Southside is some of the richest turf in all of Ravok. There’s rumor though that the Luchenzos finally embraced their Galatos heritage, and that’s how they managed to make their play against the other two. With the backing of a major family, it’s not surprise then that they’ve managed to carve out such a large chunk for themselves, but I imagine it can’t be cheap to keep masters like that happy.”

“Mhmm.” The swordsman mumbled, shifting his weight as he leaned in to get a closer look. “What about east side?” He asked after a while. “The Coterie and the Oathsworn, they must still be at it, right? There’s no way that war is over.”

“Oh yes.” Barsavi said with a wry grin. “That much at least, hasn’t changed.” Good, Elias mused, some semblance of recognition at last. Those two gangs had been fighting over the eastern side of the city for longer than even Elias could remember. So much blood had been spilled in the shadows of back alleys and abandoned docks that the canals oftentimes ran red in that part of Ravok. They’d been at it for so long now he doubted either side knew just what it was they were fighting for anymore, but what he did know is that the Ebonstryfe had had their hand in keeping the conflict going for nearly a decade by the time Caldera had arrived. A little tidbit he would need to keep to himself. Elias wasn’t sure how much Guldo knew about the workings of the Stryfe and Sun in all these affairs, but it was better to play it safe around the old cutthroat.

Eventually, blue eyes fell upon the the detailed depiction of the familiar chunk of the city. “We’ll set aside the rest of Ravok for the time being. We need to focus our attentions here.”

The Plaza of Dark Delights. For all intents and purposes, the home of the Bastards of Bright Bay and the focus of Elias’s efforts. Silently, he tapped his fingers against that part of the map. “Ah, home sweet home.” Guldo cooed. There was a great deal of coin to be made here in the haven of sin and debauchery, but that very fact also brought along with it a number of problems as well. All that money attracted attention, and as a result, the plaza was too heavily taxed and too heavily patrolled by the guard in order to keep things lively, but not out of control. The city’s grip on the place made it hardly worth the risk thanks to the money a man could make plying his trade in those sultry streets, he could just as easily wind up dead for his troubles, or worse, in the hands of the stryfe and their Black Sun overlords. This however was where the Bastards were situated, and it had been so ever since their founding. Bright Bay may have been gone these days, enveloped by an ever-expanding city that turned what had once been a lakeside property into just another platform swallowed up by the whole, but that didn’t mean the heart of the gang’s territory had moved with the tide. Oh no, Guldo wouldn’t have let such an atrocity happen on his watch. “Right then, down to business. Ever since your… spat with my previous boss,” Barsavi began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he chose his words with a care, “We’ve not been doing much else aside from fighting off the other gangs just in order to keep hold of what’s ours. It’s been bad for business… hell, there hasn’t been much of any business ever since. We used to have a solid hold on this place, but with our numbers as they are, a vacuum has formed, and the other gangs can smell the blood in the water. They see us as weak, and they’re getting mighty hungry. Eventually, someone is gonna stop poking and prodding at the body, and finally work up the courage to go in for the first bite…”

The younger of two raised a calming hand, stemming Guldo’s antagonism before it had a chance to fester. When he spoke, he spoke with the same calmness he had shown Jorah. “I promised you power, Guldo. I promised you control. I will deliver on both, and together you and I will rule more than just a few seedy streets and back alleys. We will run all of Ravok before our time is done, old man, that is my pledge… But for the time being, we will focus our concerns on reasserting dominance over the plaza. Now, tell me everything I need to know so that we may begin our conquest in earnest.”

[Elias Caldera]

A Few More Hours Later

“Is this the one?” The pale faced solider inquired casually, even as his tightening fist eliciting a squeal from his captive below. On his knees before the swordsman struggled young Telik, his soft, feeble fingers clawing and grabbing at the calloused hand that held him painfully by the back of his scrawny little neck. A hand that had seized him out of the gambling den in the Noble district, and the same hand that had dragged him kicking and screaming all the way from his posh hideout and back to the scene of his shame; the House of Immortal Pleasures.

“Telik, were so glad you've decided to return to us, and so soon.” Lexa said, her voice soft and mocking. Her powerful frame rested comfortably against that of the doorway she stood in, and though she was accustomed to more revealing outfits, the whore had draped herself in a long, gaudy shawl that was proving to be distractingly inadequate at hiding much. The three of them were in the back alley behind the brothel however, and despite the amount of traffic the rear exit often saw in an establishment like this, today there were none who would interrupt their business.

“You can’t do this to me!” Telik squealed pathetically, his writhing and wiggling suddenly intensified by the indignation. Forced to his knees and made to look at the matron whore and his accuser, Telik would catch a glimpse beyond the dark skinned beauty and into the dimly lit building behind her where another girl stood nervously looking back at them, half hidden behind the silk curtains. Melina was her name, a sweet young thing, or at least she had been up until a few bells ago. Though much of her face had been bashfully obscured, Elias had already seen the damage Telik had wrought upon the poor girl before he’d fled. It would be days before the swelling faded and she could open her eye again, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. “You hear that Lexa? We can’t do this to the young lord! Oh dear, I guess that means I can’t do… this?” Telik yelped, his voice catching in his throat as Elias deepened his hold with an unnatural strength born of his flux. His fingers sunk far into the boy’s flesh, damn near piercing the creamy skin before the stryfer eventually relinquished his hold at Lexa’s silent behest.

“Maybe I should snap his neck right here, what do you say?”

“Oh, and miss out on all the fun we could have together? I think not.” Lexa responded with the same carefree tone as her pale counterpart. “No, my girl won’t be working for weeks because of him. I’m losing profits as we speak. I have a better solution. Strip him naked, tie him up out front and put a pot and a sign next his bare ass that says ‘five copper a go.’ I’ll make my money back before the evening is through.”

“My… my father will see you killed.”

“Your father!” Elias exclaimed again, and he could feel Telik tensing with recognition of the sarcasm in his voice. In the next instant, the ‘noble’ was hauled to his feet, then promptly hauled off of them Elias lifted the wiry, long haired shykestain with one hand and the power of his magically infused muscles. Panic and fear the likes of which the mage had reveled before today flowed from Telik like a waterfall, and as the soldier slammed the boy’s back against the nearby brick wall, it only grew more delectable. “Your father won’t save you from the stryfe, boy. In fact, he’ll join you out front if you mention him again. We’ll make it a family business.”

“What do you want from me?”

Telik whined, stifled by the grasp that held him aloft.

“For you to take responsibility, boy. That girl back there, the one you made your favorite, she made the mistake of telling you she was with child, didn’t she? That’s why you lost your shyke and laid hands on her, well now its time to pay.”

“Wait, no, I’ll disappear, I won’t ever come back here, you won’t have to worry about me again.”

“You’re not listening,” Lexa chimed in harshly, straddling up to the pair of them with her dark brown eyes affixed firmly to the whelp. “You’re gonna be back, and you’re going to keep spending your daddy’s money, but now you’re going to be leaving a little extra on the side every chance you get. Melina is going to need that coin for the child -your child, you understand?”

Telik looked back and forth between Elias and the broad shouldered woman, nerves and and a sense of self preservation goading him into nodding his head as fervently as he could. “Good.” Lexa said, then motioned for her black clad companion to bring to boy back down to ground level. “And the next time one of my girls tells you to stop, you’ll listen, or the last thing you’ll ever hear in this life is the sound of your skull going…” Elias finished bu leaning in with a poignant 'popping' sound right in the boy's ear. Telik shivered, gave them both one more set of wary glances before he realized he’d been freed, then darted a way with a terrified yip. As the little shyke disappeared from sight, the sound of laughter followed him.

“I enjoyed that little touch at the end.” The myrian chuckled, and Elias smiled.

“It wasn’t too much?”

“Oh no no, it was perfect.”

The two of them shared in the merriment for a while before eventually Lexa placed a thoughtful hand on the swordsman chest and gave him a look he knew all too well. “Thank you.” She said with a delicateness that belied her imposing form. The mage shook his head and gave her soft smile. “We made a pact, I intend to keep it.”

“Yes, but you came as soon as I called. You didn’t have to do that, and I appreciate it, Caldera.”

The soldier didn’t reply right away at first, he simply took the woman’s hand in his own, clutching it gently as he stepped closer, looking deeply into her eyes. “Maybe I was just trying to get a discount.” Lexa tutted, snatching her hand away and shaking her mane of curly auburn hair in exasperation. Their touching moment ruined, Elias chuckled wryly, making a move to follow the grinning whore back into the brothel. Gods how he needed this. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do now was to lose himself in the liquor and the flesh, but as his boots met the doorway, he hesitated.

“But mistress Lexa, I thought you said the medicine I took would take care of the baby?” Sniffled a teary eyed and perplexed Melina.

“That it will, girl. You need not worry.” Lexa said softly taking the poor lass in her arms.

“But then why-”

“because men are a special kind of stupid about these things, and he won’t know you’re not with child for the next five or six months, maybe even nine considering how particularly daft that one was. By then, you’ll have made enough coin to can buy yourself a nice little place in the Noble District if you wanted, isn’t that right Elias… Elias?”

The Ravokian was still standing there, his eyes gone hollow and distant, lost in concentration. Thoughts of Shiress had stymied his steps and held him in place, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. He could go no further, that was all he knew, but as he began to work his lips into forming a polite excuse, another voice rang out from behind him.

“Master, master! It’s bad, its real bad!” Shouted a pair of boys no older than nine or ten as they came running up towards him, sweaty and dismayed. “Its Zeb, master Caldera. They got him cornered at the docks. You gotta help him!”

That’ll do. Elias mused, giving the prostitute an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. It had been a long day and was promising to be even longer still, but duty called, and Elias Caldera wasn’t the kind who refused to answer, even if a warm bed was calling out to him just as loud.

He could sleep when he was dead, in the meantime, he still had work to do.

[Ruvya]

G R A D E

Intimidation +2
Leadership +1
Interrogation +1
Weapon: Dagger +1
Hypnotism +1
Rhetoric +2
Philosophy +1
Intelligence +1
Flux +1
Bodybuilding +1

Intimidation: Using hypnotism to threaten a target
Reek: Eye-wateringly smelly gutter kid
Leadership: Repeating a request as an order
Interrogation: Intimidation gets the information out
Philosophy: Saving a life versus moral boundaries
History of The Luchenzo Brothers’ rising to power
Southside Ravok is the richest turf in Ravok
Coterie & Oathsworn war over territory in eastside Ravok
The Plaza of Dark Delights is territory of Bastards of Bright Bay
Ravok: The Noble District
Lexa: An astute businesswoman
Lexa: Myrian whore at the Plaza of Dark Delights
Elias: Duty above pleasure

If you have any queries about your grade, feel free to lemme know via PM.