Quest The Rotter, Robern

[Twister]

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Sunberth--Spring 55, 513 AV

The mansion was burning.

It had been burning steadily now for over thirty days. It was with mixed emotions that the populace of Sunberth watched the building stand aflame, strangely cut off from the rest of the civilization that surrounded it. It was like the flames were satisfied just devouring the former Rotting Mansion, careful not to touch the surrounding structures. It hadn't been that long ago that the lynch mobs of the recent uprising had herded a small collection of assorted Daggerhands and street criminals into their final prison before the building was set aflame one final time. Their screams still seemed to echo in the area, haunting the ever-present crowds who'd come to watch the scene of Robern's final demise.

He was seething.

Not only was this a major setback on his part, it was also plain insulting. He hadn't expected it. As much as his paranoia had saved his life in the past, somehow the arsonists had slipped under his radar and smoked him and his daughter out of the safety of their home. Had he known of this movement beforehand, he would've taken himself and Libby to the Keep and saved them the trouble of hiding out in the tunnels like the rats in his company. Sunberth was his. She was rebelling against him now, but he would take back control once the excitement had passed above ground. For now, he needed to be patient.

Robern Dalagnar, also called "Rotter", was everything but a patient man. The limits of his small patience were tested down in this dirty hole. He passed glances about himself to lock his eyes in every single one of his loyal, remaining henchmen. There weren't more than seven left of them; the rest had been slain or captured in their flight from the mansion and a few stayed behind to divert attention elsewhere while Robern was given a relatively safe escape route through the tunnels. He lost Libby along the way, and it certainly didn't help his patience to know his daughter was out of his reach. He wasn't particularly worried for her, granted. She knew how to fend for herself and the men by her side would keep her safe or suffer fates worse than death at her own hands. ... Libby was, in every way, daddy's little girl.

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Thelma was not known for her patience either. Leading this set of riots had been testing on her patience more than once and Malkar hadn't helped her temper in the least. With this last blunder of his, he was walking on very thin ice and Thelma made sure to get the point across with the sharp blade pressed tightly against the man's throat, her other hand pressed right underneath it to half-way collapse his windpipe. The fact that others were present at the time hadn't bothered her at all.

Brega watched, bemused. Her girls had already evactuated the building and the business was closed for the day, to many a lonely man's disappointment. Not many seemed to care for the uprising, but Brega had every reason in the world to get behind it. Robern had been nothing but trouble since their little "agreements" were enforced and there wasn't a single girl under Brega's wing who'd disagree with her. This meeting had been called a few days ago when Malkar had caught wind of Robern's present location and didn't have the sense to keep his mouth shut about it. Thelma, of course, had been quick to divert the crisis by planting new rumours. Any who'd wanted to take up the hunt for Robern had been directed to the Stumble Alley and a nice few had been snatched up from there to be directed to Brega's House of Happy Endings, instead. Word on the street was that Brega's beef with Robern also needed its "happy ending", although the whore herself hadn't been let in on this plan until the hopefuls had started showing up in her establishment.

That was around two bells ago. All business for the day had hastily been cancelled and many customers had been shoo'd out the door only half-way back into their clothes and all the girls had been sent home or back to their chambers, depending on their own situations.

Thwack!

Melkar stumbled down to the floor. Stunned, he remained on his stomach with a hand clutching his throat, checking as if in a panic if it was still intact. Meanwhile, Thelma made a point of planting a foot on the man's back to keep him down while flicking her blade and sheathing it again. Anyone observant enough would see that it was still spot clean; not a drop of blood or even the smallest flake on skin had dirtied the blade. Malkar seemed to realize this afte a while in his own way, calming down significantly where he sprawled on the floor, seeming to accept his situation underneath Thelma's leather boot.

"Now..." she started, addressing the small crowd that had gathered; Kel, Gad and Braxus among them.

"Before we get down to business... Does any of you have any questions for us? I know this meeting's been called pretty hastily and most of you probably don't even know who we are, so if you're curious... Now's a good time to ask and make up your mind about your participation before we start."

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[Braxus]

Work was plentiful this year, already. Spring was just underway and things were always moving and changing. Braxus appreciated it, to a degree. Sure, it was hard to know who was in power, but all one had to do to find out was remain silent long enough. Someone would eventually stick their neck out. Finding himself picked up in a slightly smaller group, he noticed faces from another job he had completed earlier in the season. He guessed the superiors knew talent when they saw it.

Or when she saw it. The woman who had led them into the wolf's den now asserted her dominance over the man who was often found at her side. A weak willed one, that one. to take so much abuse and keep coming back, like a homeless dog who would be kicked and fed then not fed. The shine of her clean dagger was more than likely meant to be a word of power, silently spoken to those gathered in Brega's House of Happy Endings. Braxus had been a client before, but only when new arrivals came. Old leather was old leather.

"I have no worries about participating, but maybe a name or two would suffice? Some of us were with you before and maybe we want to remember your names so you may remember ours." It was the first word of his own, the power illusory, false bravado carried in it so as to dumb himself down. Smart thugs usually died first. Smart thugs who pretended to be dumb were ignored, thereby allowing for the gathering of knowledge around them.

[Kel Ehmry]

Gods spring had been a hell of a season. To be honest Kel expected another season of stagnation, chasing silly rumors and finding absolutely nothing. Luckily for him the town practically went up in revolt, and started setting fires everywhere. Sure, not the safest of seasons by any means. But Kel certainly got a few adventures out of it. He and his new found friend Gad even did their own investigation into Robern Dalagnar's whereabouts. They had searched the Rotting Mansion and even entered the Daggerhand Prison. It was a miracle Kel had even survived the season with his antics. But it all came down to this meeting. He had caught wind of it and decided it was in his best interest to show up. He noticed Gad was also in attendance in the crowd and decided to make his way over to him. He pushed and shoved his way through a mass of angry looking civilians, all eager for Robern's head. "Glad you managed to show up" Kel said. Before Kel could say anything else, the women up front had begun addressing the crowd. She asked for any questions before whatever she had planned begun. One man called out from the crowd, asking for their names. It was a fair demand in Kel's opinion. But Kel also wanted to know some other details of what this crowd was about to do. After the one man from the crowd had finished, Kel let his voice be heard as well. "Just what exactly are we going to be doing? I have a basic idea, considering the Rotting Mansion just got torched. But what's the plan exactly?"

[Aaron Fangbearer]

THUD!

Something ran into the door that led outside and a moment of silence followed before the door knob turned slowly and the door swung inwards. A large, bald man that stood nearly 6'8" tall and had slightly feline features stood in the doorway, his large hand clenched on the door knob while the other rubbed a red spot on his head.

"Shyke, that stung..." He said, one eye winced shut in slight pain as he looked up and noticed the group gathered, just catching the last of the words that had been spoken by the woman. "Oy! I'm not late, am I?" He asked the girl, having to look down at a slight angle to see her.

The man was the epitome of big and stupid. He was heavily built from his shoulders and neck all the way down to his toes, all of which was garbed in a simple leather tunic and pants. His feet were barren and the size of a squashed melon. His bushy eyebrows matched the dark brown color of his tunic and his eyes matched the golden color of the trim on his gauntlets, which both were inlaid with a red stone in the center. His tunic was worn beyond belief and his pants had stains on them that looked like mud and dirt, but was actually old blood. He had scars from the top of his chest down to the midriff of his thighs. His right eye was half-shut all the time and a vertical scar from an old cut graced his brow and cheek, now a dark tan color after aging. He looked to be thirty-some years of age, but it was certain that his brain was still maturing.

He blinked and looked over at Gad, Kel and Braxus, blinking a few times before returning his gaze to Thelma.

[Twister]

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Thelma readied to answer the questions posed to her, several more from the crowd beginning to pipe up before the large man barged in on the meeting and wound up very, very close to Thelma herself. Her blue eyes slowly turned in their sockets to stare up at the giant, eyebrow perking and expression cooling visibly as her hand returned to the hilt of her sheathed blade. There was a certain sting to her glare, and the man under her boot reached his hands up to rest them against the back of his head as if sensing it even while he was facing the floor, unable to really see Thelma from his unfortunate angle.

"... You are late. Fall in with the rest of the crowd," she spoke shortly and nodded her head to the gathering, momentarily tearing her attention away from Aaron to look first to Braxus.

"... My name is Thelma. I'm a local to the city and I've been active of late, leading the doofus on the floor and our associates in setting and keeping fires around the city. This should be no secret by now, I should think, but we're looking to change the face of the city from now unto forever after, as petching cheesy as that sounds." She shrugs to finish her bold statement, the man underneath her leather boot piping up to speak his own name; Malkar. He dares say no more, however, as her boot comes down harder against his back and pushes his chest against the floor, knocking the air out of him. He writhes and coughs, Thelma's lips flattening.

"Our plan's pretty simple. The manor is burning and the Rotter is on the loose. If we act quickly, we'll be good to take him for our own and give the city's populace the sweet vengeance they've been longing for. No more strict politics and power games from the bloodthirsty rat and his harlot of a daughter, and more space for the city to breathe." She paused for a second, pursing her lips. "... Our sources tell us that Robern and his daughter vanished underground when the manor was set alight. Associates of ours have watched the mining shacks for days and no one matching the Rotter's description has emerged from the tunnels, so it's safe to assume he's still down there somewhere. We'll be going down there to look for him, or any paths he may've taken to hide his butt out in some remote corner of the city."

"... Any other questions?" Her stare returns to Aaron, in particular.
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[Gad]

This, this was strange. This movement, this Thelma lady, from nowhere. The whole idea that Robern and his Daggerhand would be moved on so efficiently as this. Even with Sunberth's daily slaughter, something like Robern and his squad seemed so institutional, like a facet of Sunberth, a living momentumo to the ultimate freedom of Sunberth, the freedom to do wrong. It was surreal to look around and this the trappings of this once great dynasty of crime burning to the ground. This movement to attack the city's infrastructure was startling, a crisis that had precipitated out of thin air. The ripples of Thelma's presence and the new and aggressive movement she seemed to represent could be felt throughout Sunberth. In the streets there was flamboyant chaos, crumbling it's way through shanty town and shack, to the decrepit land mars of the Pre-Valterrian, from the whores halls to the dock side and through out the Wolves' Den. Gad saw all of this, and realized Thelma was just perfectly positioned to either be smacked down mercilessly, or be the next Robern. The next charismatic master of Sunberth. Sunberth didn't have it's mining kings and financial governors, the ancient wizards who prostituted her people and terrorized their minds were gone, but that spirit was still there, haunting her. That pervasive cultural trait never lagged or stuttered. The idea that Sunberth was a thing, to be mastered, like a woman, or an animal, perhaps a trick to be learned, and played on others. Naturally, there would be those who rose to the challenge, and eventually those who rose to challenge them. All wanted the jewel that was Sunberth, the precious diamond of freedom. Thelma was a natural response to Robbern perhaps, but this apparition-like group of hers was enough to make Gad go cold just thinking about. He nodded to Kel grimly in recognition. They each had been investigating the centers of this growing climate of fear and retaliation, it seemed that after they last parted ways, they had been drawn here. Gad guessed they both had an odd sense of fascination with what was going to follow, should these bubbling cauldrons be stirred to storm. Gad guessed this was a bit like talking about the weather in other towns, or this season's crop. Not in Sunberth. Here it was this season's uprising, this season's tyrant. The poor man's almanac in Sunberth read of sweltering heats and rolling wild fires. Blazes twelve stories high to put the slag heap to shame. Gad felt the macabre urge to watch what the fire burned down was going to become, and to see if it's ashes would blow away quickly. This was something that lurched around in the back off every Sunberther's mind. "This is crazy." Gad said in a almost hiss of air to Kel, like it was a curse under the breath. "Looks likes you've be pulled deeper down in the thick of it, just like me. All the way to the bottom..." Being in a whore house with no whores was already no fun, but sitting through a team meeting some how heightened the level of un-fun the atmosphere plunged to. Gad thought, a better meeting might actually have whores in it. When he ran things, that's how he'd do it. He yanked on his chin hairs in his signature tick, as he let events pass on around him. There was some commotion between this Thelma woman and some upstart, and more of the thug party filled in. With her proper mob in order, Thelma addressed them. Kel asked what the plan was, and Gad's eyebrows raised at the audacity of it. That Robern would be hunted down by the mob down in the tunnels like some rat in an obscure labyrinth was a strange thought to be had. When the woman offered a second time to take questions Gad couldn't help prodding a bit. "So the plan is to go down in the dark tunnels and what? We're stumbling around blind down there. Aren't we? I mean, how many places could he be hiding out in the tunnels? Does anyone here know the tunnels well enough to even guess where to look? Beyond that, Robbern may have more going on down there than we realize, what if this is a trap? Not to be a wet blanket on this whole arsonist uprising thing, it'd just be nice to have a little assurance we're not going down here just to be picked off in a dark cave by Daggerhand enforcers."

[Twister]

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The crowd was quiet for a few moments as Thelma focused her stare on Gad, instead. He heel rubbed against the back of the downed man's head, provoking a pained grunt from him when his nose was ground against the floor, but that didn't seem to stop Thelma from adding the pressure. There wasn't a look of malice on her face, though. Just genuine consideration of Gad's words, it seemed, judging by how long it took for her to finally respond to his inquiry; "There'll always be the risk that we're running into an ambush. This entire operation has been a gamble from the beginning, and I won't sugarcoat that in any way. I won't lie to you folks; we may well be walking ourselves to a quick demise, heading down into the darkness of the tunnels."

She paused, lifting her foot finally off the head of the floored sod. He slipped a heavy sigh of relief, head rolling onto its side while a finger gingerly stroked his blushing nose. "Myself and my colleague here," she muttered while gesturing lazily to the bloke at her feet, "have both been into the tunnels countless times. We have our own loyal agents that have scouted out several entrances previously used by the Daggerhand to quickly access their dungeons. None of these entrances are particularly far away from where the manor stood, but they've all been cloaked cleverly enough to have remained hidden for all this time."

Spitting to her side, she rolled her tongue over her teeth while considering her words carefully. "... When we head down into the tunnel, we will be relying on what intelligence we've managed to scrape together to hope we can catch Robern and his remaining men off-guard. If not, we'll be in for one heck of a showdown and I fully expect that not all of you will make it out alive. I'm not particularly optimistic about keeping my own either, but..." She shrugged.

"Sacrifices have to be made."

Her eyes locked upon Gad again, silently prompting him to speak his piece.
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[Gad]

The two die that were Gad's constant companions found their ways in between his fingers as he fished them out of his jacket. He jostled them about in his hands and they clanked and chattered out their secrets to him as Thelma spoke. It was a grim lot already. He knew that. Really, everybody knew that. He just wanted it out in the open, he wanted to be sure Thelma was woman enough to tell these people just what was at stake here. The ante was high enough to make the young gambler quake though. Robbern was a stingy kid, a bully who kept all the pies to himself, and now, somebody finally got it in there head to pull a knife out and slice the pie their way. Gad had no objections to that. It was the dying bloody in a hole in the ground that didn't jive. He listened to Thelma's speech, and watched her gratuitous abuse of her underlings- which he found sexy in weird way- and considered the whole ordeal. The ringleader paused, and many eyes in the room slid their glazed gazes to Gad, expecting a response. Hmm, evens yay, odds nay... The jade game pieces tumbled across the wood table. Snake eyes. A bad omen, but an even roll. He took the green blocks up in his hand. "So, let's just get this all clear. We're going down into a black pit in the ground that only some of us are familiar with, to face a force of hardened criminals with numbers uncertain, a group who are categorically more familiar with this place than us, and with a plan that revolves around capturing a crime lord that less than half of us have ever seen, and doing so stealthily and quickly enough to take the most paranoid man in Sunberth off guard, something, something, profit?...hmm." He laughed a heavy barking laugh. "Sounds good to me! With these odds, the share of whatever loot I get is gonna be huge. Taking dead-pool bets now," He pointed to Thelma's professional boot warmer "ten silver on the big boy going out like a bitch." That earned a chuckle. "I kid, I kid. But in all seriousness, I think everyone gets it now eh? No coming back, so hide the wife, kiss the kids- er, anyways, I just wanted that cleared up. Doubts aside, I've seen how low the Daggerhand's been sinking first hand. He's been pushed into a corner, and while it may make him more dangerous, it also means he's got all his chips on one number, and nowhere to go. I trust Thelma, if that's worth anything to anyone here. And seeing as how she's the one who cornered that sonuvabitch, I trust her even more to finish the job. So, with that all out the way. Let's do this thing!" There was same banging on the table and calls for Robern's head. The atmosphere sufficiently lightened, it seemed clear that the briefing would continue, and Gad as much as everyone was eager to get to the meat and potatoes of the hunt. Still, the way Thelma said 'Sacrifices must be made', the way she looked at Gad. Didn't do well to boost his morale. He snagged a shot of moonshine from a nearby table for confidence. He remembered why he was doing this, and reminded himself not to get so wrapped up in the mob mind that he forgot that.

[Twister]

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By the time Gad had finished talking, the man on the floor had clambered back up to his feet with a bit of a slouch to his gait. One hand planted against the lower of his back, he winced and stepped aside to not block the crowd's view of Thelma, instead joining up behind her and turning his eyes down to the floor when she threw a cold glare back over her shoulder. The story between these two was a mystery, but both of their faces were familiar enough since this season's dramatic events had started. They were the figureheads of the movement, Thelma moreso than the man behind her. He didn't seem to be a very impressive figure, however, judging by their interactions here tonight. ... He had also refrained from commenting on Gad's bet, sticking to submissive silence under the hard stare of his companion.

Thelma turned to the crowd once more, a snide smirk twitching onto her lips. "We're most certainly going up against nigh on impossible odds. Even with the opportunity we've been given, it's going to be dangerous and there's no guarantee whatsoever that we'll come out on top of this mess. Should we make this a failure, Robern's just going to come out stronger than he was before and there's no telling what kind of choke hold he'll be able to take on the city's populace in the event he'll come out of this alive." The crowd bustled for a few brief moments; anxiety and anticipation vibrated across the room. It was an odd combination. Thelma silenced them quickly by raising both her hands. "It's now or never. This won't be over until the Rotter comes true to his name. Leave now if you must. The rest of you; with me."

Thelma stepped into the crowd. She barely had to elbow her way through to get to the door; people moved out of her way, more out of curiousity to see where she was going than actual respect for the woman. Reaching the door, Thelma didn't stop to look back. She vanished past the doorway, the entire brothel seeming to pause in time for a few seconds. No one said a word and no one moved a muscle. That is, until Thelma's colleague tried to follow her. Then, the crowd seemed to close up on him as people moved to follow her outside.

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It was a small crowd that departed Brega's whore house that evening. Some scattered once out of the door, running back to the safety of their own homes to leave Thelma and her followers to their fates. Some just weren't up for the gamble, but the ten or so men that stuck by her side were ready to go against the odds for good fortune and adventure. The tides were changing here in Sunberth, and a few corageous souls wanted to be part of it. Turning back to those who hadn't left her, Thelma smiled a crooked smile. She didn't offer any inspiring words as she kept going, leading the group through the dark streets of the city and in the direction of Robern's former home.

A few chimes later, the group arrived in an alleyway. It was just a few streets down from where the burning skeleton of the Rotting Manor still stood, and there was nothing truly remarkable about this alleyway. It was just another dead end, come as a result of the city's lack of a real streetplan. Without being asked or prompted, Thelma stepped to the far back of the alleyway and pushed against one of the wooden walls. The partition she pressed against gave way, swinging inwards and revealing an open doorway behind the slice of fake wall. The man who had stood with her in the whore house cleared his throat, stepping forward and gesturing lazily at the ground in front of the doorway. "The Daggerhands have been using this passage to quickly access the dungeons below. The entrance was blocked up by boards, trash and broken crates until two days ago when some of Robern's men were seen fleeing out of this alleyway. The smoke that leaked through the cracks around the door gave it away, despite the cover, when we investigated it after we took them down..."
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[Gad]

Gad and the rest spilled into the night, the grim procession marched in silence. The hedge wizard counted about two handfuls in the gang, near a dozen people ready to throw their lives away. He guessed that was how it was. Life was cheap in Sunberth, so all things considered whatever you got by gambling your life away was probably an improvement. Still, he had no plans of dying. Then again, he rarely had plans period, and when they did, they ended with him doing things like this, so Gad decided to put a moratorium on his plan making for the immediate future. He tumbled his green tokens of chance in the palm of his hand, but neglected to look at the results. Soon enough they were there. The shadowed passage was revealed by the head lackey. The wannabe wizard smiled bitterly when he explained how Thelma's crew found it. Well damn. To think, all that stumbling around in the dark, and ol' Robby's place was literally blowing smoke...heh. As the strongman removed to debris that obscured the corridor, Gad got a cold feeling. Maybe it was the breeze from the underground, but probably not. The realization that it was so close scared him. His schemes and grand designs, as recently acknowledged, rarely panned out. Being right here, so close to what he'd been pursuing, it was surreal. The blank veil loomed in front of the band. Of course, Gad spoke up. "Just seems rude to barge in like this...Ya wanna wait for them to bring out the good dishes? Spruce the place up, lay out some of those little finger foods." Of course, Thelma bit. The would-be-revolutionary stepped in ahead of her gang of fortune-hunters, yet-to-be-paid mercenaries and do-goodders. She looked back over her shoulder with an expression that said "what are you waiting for." First her sidekick, another guy, then Gad. He'd already distinguished himself a little too much, and wasn't eager to gain any more notoriety. So, the 'team' proceeded to the underworld. As a preliminary, Gad slipped his right hand into his pocket. His head dipped down and he fell to the back of the gang as he started the process of projection, slowly unknitting his astral hand from the grip of flesh. Gad spoke lowly to one of the men closer to the rear, where he was lingering. "Hey, so uh... you got any idea where we're going?"