Closed Evening Encounters [Zandelia]

[Kenneric Crowe]

The 40th Day of Spring 514 A.V.
The day has slid into evening.

Kenneric’s frown left creases on his otherwise smooth face. He was looking for this damned smithy. The idea of carrying a weapon did not sit well with the Syliran, but he felt it had become a necessity here in Sunberth. His usual method of self-defense, the clean hands-off voiding of one’s foes, was too much of a risk here. He needed a more practical approach. Perhaps a nice, lethal Gladius. He would save his special skills for dire circumstances.

The orange light that splayed across the city created well defined shadows inked black. They whispered, ever curious, ever greedy for the thoughts of men. But Kenneric was greedy as well. He wanted secrets, he wanted influence, he wanted to know Sunberth for the cesspool of immorality it was. Kenneric smiled bitterly.

His ventures in Zeltiva came to destruction when the plague sunk it’s vile fangs into the city and dragged it into chaos. Ironic that he came here, to the city that thrives on chaos afterwards. His whole mood had darkened significantly after his brush with the plague. He was pale and sickly now, not yet recovered from the crippling illness.

Kenneric entered the shadows of an alleyway, barely effected by the darkness. Subconsciously he reached out a hand to brush gingerly against the rough wall. He did not need it, but he hid his gift well, no matter if any watched or not. Kenneric Crowe was a man who guarded his knowledge like a mother would guard her babe.

Glancing down the alleyway he thought he was approaching the street where the smithy resided, but was not sure. As he entered the more traveled street he was forced to squint into the setting sun to see. He thought he saw the movement of a woman approaching along the edge of the road.

[Zandelia]

Two Bells Earlier

The noise of the tavern was a solid wall this evening, there was much to discuss and many rumours were now spreading from lip to lip until they were retold enough to be barely recognizable from the original tales. She knew this as she had helped to start a few of them herself, for the sot part acting as a wall of misinformation concerning the Scars and this Hound she had yet to meet. After the first meeting, though a decent number had shown their faces for her to see, she had known they were not ready for open conflict – far from it. She had decided then and there, a score of days past now almost, that there would be no repeat of the incidents surrounding the Crimson Edge. This time was prepared, she was focused and she wasn’t leaving the city unless absolutely forced to do so. She circled the rim of her wooden cup of ale as she listened to the hubbub.

“Dead, they did it themselves! The Hound, gutted like the dog he is in front of the docks I swear it as I know who my mother is”

“Really? Who did it them eh?”

“Daggerhands I heard, dozens of ‘em ripped into an house and slit his throat before dumping him in the brine”

“Yeah? Say’s who?”

“Everyone!”

“Bit luck innit? Losing the body to not be able ta proves it?”

“Well what would ye do with yer enemy then? Not everyone’s mental like he was. Hound strung up a Daggerhand but Daggers is alright for bastards. See?!”

She smiled to herself as she heard her own words repeated back at her but with so much embellishment you couldn’t even notice they were hers – spoken by other mouths of course – unless you could read minds. Whilst she prided herself upon the ability to read people, to manipulate them and their small ideas she had not achieved the abilities of the Gods. No, it had been a simple enough idea, a small and fleeting whispering in the ears of the drunken patrons of as many tavern dives and brothels she could wriggle her way into. She understood the rumour mill well enough to know that simple was best, it allowed the imaginations of others to invent and thus gave them something to enjoy and feel superior about as they trumped up the tales for other drunks and became the leading authority about the matters of the day.

“Whatcher want Web?! I can’t be shkyed with your little schemes today. Neither can Jarral here, we want paid and we want it soon or we’ll walk you hear?” came the gruff and irritable voice of one of her more annoying contacts so far cultivated.

“Good evening Ballack, please sit,” she indicated the seats opposite her at the table, “you will be paid when you have fulfilled your uses to me properly. Unless you want to end up like your former little sifter then you will watch your tone with me. Remember that with a little slip of my wrist I can ruin your little life. Such as it is. Do you wish to continue?” she asked him smoothly, tone perfectly flat and eye pinning his two as she watched them shift with inward amusement.

“Look..I-I-I…it’s been a hard few days. Sorry” he responded meekly after a few chimes of internal conflict that had Jarral grinning inanely at his old enemy, now ally, brought to heel in front of him.

I’ll have to kill him one day soon. Not yet. Soon. He will serve his purpose and then, when I have a more reliable connection in the Seaside Markets I’ll ruin his life bit by bit. Bastard worked for Garret after all. He knows it though, he knows. He’ll prepare. Still…that is for later she thought to herself as she finished the last of her ale and placed the cup down slowly.

“Gentleman, I have another little rumour for you to start, the usual places and you know them well. It appears that three men were killed at Brega’s around seven days ago. These men were killed in a retaliation by the Daggerhands for working against them…such as they remain. You will comment upon this to people, talk them into believing it or not the seeds will be planted. Say nothing else but express concern at the incident and suggest it is only the beginning. The people will do the rest” she instructed them quietly, masking the conversation with a low pitch of voice.

“No embellishments” Jarral asked her with curiosity.

“No, not this time. Just…spread the word. If people already know then reinforce it as an incident of worth in their minds. We will see what the people come up with. I am content with that”

“Why?” Ballack asked sharply.

“Because,” she sighed loudly, “knowing what they invent will tell us what they really fear, what concerns them and what they are ignoring. Do as you are told. Five gold for the pair of you if you are successful. I give you three days. Now, however, I have other business to attend to. Good luck gentleman” she stated by way of greeting, standing and making her way to the door.

She left out the fact that she hoped the people would latch onto the murders, use the current rumours concerning the Scars at present and come to the conclusion that the Scars had been further diminished and possibly destroyed. There would be no way to verify the claims if they were made and the ideas would lend further cloaks of annonymity to their organization - such as it was.

Oh how I have grown to love and appreciate the art of misinformation she mused as the door was opened and she stepped into the chill of the growing night.



Present Time

Zandelia was now flitting through the shadows of one of the wider streets of Sunberth, though she was not sure dirt paths could be considered streets. It was late, the shadows concealing her as she kept close to the walls of the buildings that there were, peering around corners and making sure she was not seen by any – so far as she was capable of doing so. There were few people around and so it was simple enough. She had a purpose in mind, a simple investigation of a possible lead and a contact within the class of the merchants of the city. She held no concrete plans yet but she was willing to explore.

Possibilities are boundless here these days it seems. The more leverage I can find on the more people the netter. Insignificant people perhaps but it’s a start. Can’t build houses without foundations as they say she thought to herself as she slipped past an alleyway and stepped into the threshold of a door for a few moments.

She peered around and thought that she caught a glimmer of movement in the darkness but could not be sure. She waited patiently and when nothing aroused her suspicion slipped back into the open and approached the spot slowly, cautiously and ready to pull her weapons if the need arrived in an instant. As she drew nearer the outline of a figure coalesced and she clenched her fingers into a fist, easing them towards the handle of her tonfa at her waist. She licked her lips.

“Who goes there? I can see you,” she bluffed in an attempt to draw them out, “I don’t want any trouble from you tonight. Come on, come out” she still was not sure if she had even seen anything – a trick of her mind perhaps?

Still, it paid to be cautious whilst being curious at this late hour upon the streets of the anarchical city.

[Kenneric Crowe]

Kenneric stared at the woman. Her beauty was stunning, though he had been somewhat hardened to such things. It kept him from responding right away and she reached for her weapon before he realized what was happening. Surely she thought him a thug or money collector. Such instances of ambush were common here in Sunberth and the young man had already been subjected to such collections.

“Settle yourself, Ma’am. I am unarmed.” Kenneric stepped from what he now realized was a shaded area, imperceptible to most. “The darkness brings out the edge in everyone.” He stated, his hands raised lazily by his shoulders. He wanted her to take her hand off that weapon, for he had no ready defense.

He wore his finest clothes and the brown jerkin he was prone to garb himself in here in the thieves’ city. His brocade vest was ill suited to such greedy eyes as those in Sunberth. He recalled with apprehension the few other times he had encountered some of Sunberth’s undesirables in the shaded walkways of the city. But great opportunity rode the saddle of risk. He smelled opportunity here.

“I am one Mister Crowe. Pleased to meet you.” He executed a practiced bow without flourish or flamboyance, though of stately quality nonetheless. “Might I be so bold as to inquire after the lady’s name?” The words came out laced with a crafted carefree air. He hoped that was enough to discredit any danger he might pose. He wanted to be harmless, it was the best way to avoid harm.

Kenneric Crowe waited with his hands raised to see what Zandelia would do. As always, his curiosity bit at him from between the bars of his mind. Kenneric tried to take her in completely as he stood there in the dusty road deep in the heart of Sunberth. Her story was just beneath the surface. Was she an affiliate of some street side gang here to enforce the curfew they impose on their own subjected citizens? Perhaps an influential merchant’s offspring, cocky from years of financial power?

She seemed to be older, but well preserved. Well honed in the ways physical laborers are, she seemed active in the least. The weapon at her side complemented that particular assessment. One eye was a deep green, the other dulled from some injury. Interesting.

[Zandelia]

Her suspicions had proven to be correct, instinct taking over and warning her of a danger before she consciously knew it to be there. It was a skill only the survivors of Sunberth developed, if you didn’t gain the sense then you didn’t last long upon the streets – throat sliced or sold off into slavery perhaps. She brought her tonfa up. They were lined across the edge of her forearms as she stepped into a defensive stance one foot forwards and weight balanced upon the back leg with knees slightly bent. She wasn’t about to be caught off guard or unable to fight effectively. He claimed to be unarmed but she still took him in fully before her muscles visibly relaxed, still ready to spring if required but she stood up into a more normal stance fluidly.

No weapons that I can see, nothing upon his thighs or hips. Can’t see the back but no ruffle of the clothing to suggest a sheath there. Can’t see everywhere though, some things are small. Then there’s magic too. Not likely here but not unknown. Sahova taught me enough to know any can use it with enough willpower she told herself as she considered her new acquaintance in a tense silence.

He dressed richly for a common street thug, brown jacket not entirely covering a brocaded layer underneath that spoke of either success of gold. Perhaps both but it also could have been said to speak of foolishness. She weighed it up in her mind and found that she believed him, for better or worse. He didn’t move like a thug and neither did he seem to possess weaponry. He dressed richly and acted with mannerisms that were not Sunberthian in origin. Many entered the city but few left it if they stayed for long. Visitors required friends, information and access to various things of seemingly trivial natures. She was good at helping with such searches and she needed all the allies she could garner.

“No, it seems you are not. Not even from the city perhaps? If you wish to survive I’d learn to blend mannerism as well as you blend into the shadows. Stand out for long here and you’ll get yourself cut down,” she slipped her tonfa back into their sheath at her hip – in truth she didn’t need them to fight another at any rate they were just convenient for intimidation.

She noted how he stepped, lightly and without much of a sound. He would make a good thief if used correctly, or a footpad to follow another without being seen. Oh he would have to do more than appear grand and polite to gain any insight into her own world but he was interesting and that was a start – or more interesting than those usually found in the dirty streets. She tilted her head, resisting the smile she had learnt she used too much and instead raising her eyebrow and pursing her lips. His hands were up still as if trying to placate her, that indicated fear. She wondered if that meant he didn’t know how to fight. He would need to learn quickly.

“Are you? You don’t know me, nor I you. How can you say you are pleased to meet me? For all you know I might be looking for someone to rob and have now found a target,” she suggested simply, stepping forwards a pace slowly, “I certainly look the type I’d think. Dark armour, dark cloak and weapons. I’d not say you were please by the way you’re hands are waving. Or do you mean that you find my appearance pleasing?” she enquired, seeking understanding and perhaps a glimmer of his persona.

“You can call me Web if you like, name and description, “ she responded to the last cryptically, “and I find myself bumping into a Crowe…Mister Crowe. How posh. I’d settle for a first name though, easier to say”

“And if I might inquire,” she mimicked his tone and wording back to him now with a small smile – allowed this time, “what you are doing here, in the shadows, this night? Looking for a target? If so I could point you in the right direction with the right persuasion” she finished.

She placed her hands upon her hips, tilting them to one side slightly as she watched and waited. She kept her gaze carefully blank but behind the veneer she was trying to dissect him for all that he was. His uses, his motivations and his wants. She could use him if he was right enough.

[Kenneric Crowe]

Of course there was a lack of trust. Her words spoke of her thorough Sunberthian culture. Harsh and biting, full of challenge and judgement. He must have startled her for such an aggressive response, or perhaps she was simply an aggressive person. That was perfectly possible. Crowe hadn’t realized, as often happened, that he was that imperceptible. The shadows were a familiar companion after so many years of their acquaintance. Sometimes the man forgot that most did not have the same intimate relationship with the beings inside the dark.

She seemed to calm after a thorough, yet speedy, inspection of all his nooks and crannies. Kenneric observed her keen eye, catching much and leaving little unnoticed. Whatever her purpose here in Sunberth, she clearly thrived in the madness of the city. Her warnings were laced with threats whose nature was almost blatant enough to be offensive. “Why yes, relatively new to the city.” He lowered his hands and slid his thumbs into his belt. “And I’d hardly say I blend into anything. You were clearly preoccupied or you would have spotted me right away. I certainly saw you.” He paused for a moment, watching her sheath her weapons.

Her second inquiry came quickly, in a no nonsense sort of manner. She was clearly trying to whittle at his nerve. Kenneric watched her stance and her mouth as she spoke. From bellow his shadow muttered something too softly for him to hear, the thing was always keeping it’s thoughts from him. He glanced down at the ground before returning his blue-purple gaze to the woman in front of him.

“Of course I am pleased to meet a local so eager to give advice to a blundering foreigner. And as for being pleased to meet you…” Ken made a show of appraising her once again, frowning slightly, then smiling. “Perhaps a bit of both?”

He stepped further into the street, making an effort to stay relaxed. She might have sheathed her weapons, but that didn’t mean much here. “And as for worrying about you robbing me, you weren’t look to mug me. You would have attacked rather than challenged shadows.”

He motioned for her to walk with him. This was the type of meeting that may prove to be beneficial to both parties. “Web. That sounds distinctly Sunberthian. I prefer Crowe, or Mr. Crowe if such niceties suit you. My given name is reserved for my mother and few others in this city.”

Kenneric’s verbal swagger had his heart rate elevated. “Shadows are better than light when one is not armed. But my business this night is innocent. I’m simply looking for employment, and I’d love company if you feel so inclined.” With that last he paused, waiting to see if she would join him.

[Zandelia]

She watched him step out from the shadows warily, he interested her and seemed to possess no weapons that she could see but she was cautious as an individual and so readied herself to draw her weaponry if it became required – she wasn’t about to get her throat cut in the dark by a random foreigner in her own birthed city. His thumbs were tucked neatly into his belt now and she found herself wondering if he had something concealed there – it would be a smart thing to do in Sunberth. His words were simple and she noted seemingly designed to placate her further. She merely shrugged and stepped forwards to close the gap between them somewhat but still enough room remained in case of vicious encounter.

“Preoccupied?” she asked softly, “perhaps. I have many things upon my mind and enough to keep me busy. I should thank you for mentioning it, I will need to be more careful in the future considering my inclination” she left what they were to his own imagination – she had found that others filling in the gaps told her more about them than they liked to reveal at times.

Let them assume, let them speak out. Notice their choices and you can extrapolate from there she told herself privately.

“You find me pleasing? Well I have been known to reward those whom assist me so perhaps one day you could claim such a pleasure. Still, I know you not and so that will have to wait for later” she smiled a little then, wondering if that unstated offer would give him motivation to assist her at some point in the future.

She needed helpers as much as she needed the air she breathed and so she wouldn’t find herself above using someone for such an end. She had terrible memories of such events still, the night with Fallon clear still in her mind, but with just one person and enough persuasion she might consent to such an agreement if it proved profitable enough. Any means to gain an end was considered fair game for her. His words upon his own business, however, were more promising and as such seemed more palatable and useable. She considered the half-offer and turned it within her mind.

“Astute too, you could be useful perhaps,” she responded to his comment upon the mugging, “and you seek employment? The night is not the conventional time to seek it unless you are a thief. If you are…well I have no problems with thievery. It can be useful at times”

“Very well…Mr. Crowe,” she extended her hand for a shake, it was a good way to gauge someone after all, “if you will have me then I have some business of my own that I could use some help with. You want to do something, so do I. Care to join forces for a while?” she asked simply, her eye upon him sharply now.

“Tell me, what is it that you seek this night? Tell me, lead the way and I will help you as best that I can. Keeping someone alive long enough to gain something for one’s self is practically breathing here”

“Or do you have nothing particular in mind? If so then I could provide…direction” she suggested with a serious look.

[Avarice]

Succumb to Your Desires . Zandelia : Skills: Intelligence +1 Intimidation +1 Leadership +1 Stealth +1 Organization +1 Rhetoric +2 Socialization +1 Loot: N/A Consequences: N/A Lores: The Hound's Demise: A Rumor of My Design Ballack: An Impatient Contact Ballack: Marked for Death Ballack & Jarral: Ignorant to the Beauty of Misinformation Instinct: The Skill of Sunberth's Survivors Kenneric: Obviously a Visitor to Sunberth Tonfa: Sticks of Intimidation Kenneric: Immense Potential for Shady Occupations Kenneric: A Potential Helper Kenneric : As you have been inactive for quite some time, I have withheld your experience points for this thread. Upon your return, I will be more than happy to dole out your hard-earned XP! Simply shoot me a PM and I'll update this grade. Comments : Although brief, this was a nice read. I find myself wanting more and more. If you have any questions, concerns, or things you want to throw at me regarding this grade, feel free to shoot me a PM! Furthermore, please edit your post in the request thread to reflect this grade.