Flashback Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Konrad Venger on January 21st, 2016, 5:33 am

22nd Bell
The Castle Commons
72rd Day of Winter, 511AV

One thing that most people got wrong about the mercenary life was thinking it was constant, heart-rushing danger and excitement. It wasn't. In fact, that stuff wasn't even the majority of Konrad's time. Hell, it wasn't even a hefty minority!

Ain't never like the stories.

The gutter-merk pulled his coat tighter around him and clamped his hat harder upon his head. Winter was on its way out but that's when she got vicious, digging her claws deep and gouging every gust with ice and the kind of cold that knifed your lungs with every breath. We was wearing three layers under his duster and it still felt like he was naked out there.

Then again, looking around, he could have been worse off.

Even near the Mage's Hour, the Commons were a roiling mess of hustling humanity. Some of the more legitimate stores, selling food and necessities, were closed down and the fronts chained up, but a plethora of others were doing a roaring trade. Drugs, weapons, women, gambling, loans, all kinds of theater and entertainment, cage fights and grog shops by the dozen were packed into a dozen square blocks smack in the city center.

Smoke and scents billowed endlessly from every corner, stenches foul and beguiling in every alley. People and carts and riders crisscrossed each other in a constantly changing swarm and Konrad had to weave and sidestep his way across the square. All around them tenement blocks and ancient stamps of history hemmed them in, from the Storage Houses to the Knight's Armory to-

"Dira's Cunt, you too, eh?"

"Any other petchin' reason I'd be here?"

Rayndull didn't get sore or even raise from his seat. Instead he just laughed around the evil-smelling roll-up between his brown teeth. Behind him was a frozen but still ornate fountain that rose up like a spike from the middle of the square. Whatever water was inside was frozen solid, covered in a dusting of snow. Konrad ran his eyes over the pipes and mechanisms that had long-since ceased working. As long as he'd been alive, he'd been coming to "The Establishment".

I ever find out who named this hunk a' stone that, I'll petching gut him.

"Aww, nod'even fer my charmin' presence, boyo?"

Konrad snorted, sound like he was clearing his throat of a tumor. Rayn was an ugly little bastard, but he could tolerate him. Made him laugh, after all. The older merk was sharpening his dagger on the edge of the fountain, striking some sparks as he went back and forth, tiny little Synas falling and dying on the thick ice. Around him a dozen other examples of sellsword-kind were lounging, smoking, talking, standing... waiting in general.

"Ah' could do without it, Rayn. Nothing so far?"

Rayn's remaining eye gleamed for a moment and, out of sheer spite for the idea of beauty, he grinned. "Any petching reason I'd still be-"

"Aw'right, aw'right, shut yer hole, funny man..."

Konrad craned his neck around, one hand tapping on the hilt of his kopis like it always did when he had thinking to do. Nope... no-one coming that looked overcome with some burning need to hire some swords. Damnit, he didn't need this lull. He had rent to pay and food to buy and his purse was getting light. That was the problem with the Way of The Blade: sometimes, even in a place like Sunberth, things got too damn peaceable.

Could ask by the Storage Houses or the Community. See if they need an extra guard. Ugly bastard like you always scares away trouble, so-

Quick, urgent movement caught his eye, and he wasn't the only one. Someone was trotting through the crowded Commons, making a beeline for the fountain. His gaze narrowed as the man approached. Well-groomed. Well-dressed. A tubby minder trotting behind him and huffing with the exertion, and as they got closer Konrad could make out the splotches on his neck.

Slaver, he thought, seeing the twin manacles with weeping faces inside painted onto his flesh. This could be promising...

"I come bearing word," the fur-swaddled slaver said without preamble, sweeping blue eyes across the rank of dirty killers dragging themselves up in a rough line, Konrad and Rayn at the end of it. "Two slaves have escaped from the Row! They are a man and a woman, returned to health and fled from the Auction! Master Tryannus calls for their return, and promises a fifth of their price to whoever returns them!"

"An' how much would that be?"
Konrad said, equally without preamble, not liking this errand boy on sight, nor this mention of his "Master". Did he mean Chubs? That drooling little double-tongue? "Give us a number and we'll feel better running after 'em."

He could tell this petty emissary was offended, but telling did not equal caring. The errand boy's lips pressed in insult and Konrad tilted his head to one side, letting the torchlight catch every inch of his ravaged face, not to mention the careless, opaque glint in his eyes.

Don't expect an apology or soiled breeches, boy. Ah' shit scarier things than you.

"They were due for sale," the emissary continued, voice loud enough that more than just the mercenaries gathered at The Establishment could hear. The Crier had already been paid off, too, and soon the city would be alive with talk of escaped property and rewards. "Three hundred for the male, three-fifty for the female." He swung his gaze clearly back to Konrad and his voice dripped acid onto the frost. "That would be one-hundred-and-thirty gold pieces. Just in case you needed it explained for you..."

Konrad's first instinct was unpleasant but pleasurable. He squashed it, with effort, hiding behind a smile that was not really a smile. He'd get a hundred-nothing if he butchered his employer's man, even if he did find the slaves. So instead he just tapped the end of his hat in mocking thanks.

"When'd they get loose?"

"Earlier today, at the Auction. A few tried to make a break, and the crowd bludgeoned them back into line,"
the emissary said with a grin of sick satisfaction, "Our customers knew better than to aid the flight of property. But two were unaccounted for, must have snuck away while all was chaos with their brethren-"

"So they could be outta the city by now. Shame for you, huh?"

Pretty boy pursed his precious lips again. Gut him Konrad might not, but he wouldn't miss a chance to needle the little twat.

"Maybe. But unlikely. Tis death beyond the walls-"

"Tis death inside 'em, boy,"
Rayn said with a chortle, unable to resist the opening. "We're all proofa' that."

The laughter spread and rose and the emissary blushed, flustered and stymied and oh, Konrad did so love the sight of a man losing control of his audience. He tapped Rayn on the shoulder and hatched a quick plan. A simple one, but simple was often the best for him.

Since it didn't involve killing anyone, just finding them, he thought it the wiser option.

"Let's go," he murmured, low enough that only the older sellsword could hear. "Got a plan. Split's fifty-fifty."

"An' why'd I work wit' youse?"

"Two heads, four hands, lighter work."

"Fair enough."
They were already marching away and heading east when Rayn piped up again, stubbing out his nauseating smoke and tucking it behind his ear. "Where we startin'? Outskirts? Sunset?"

"We're trackin', Rayn,"
Konrad said, feeling his purse through his duster and hoping he had enough coin to rent what they'd need. "We need a nose."

"We got noses. Well... you have."

"A better nose than this'n, Rayn. An' I know where to geddit."

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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Erik Murphy on January 23rd, 2016, 9:23 pm

The building dark, dank and dingy. The windows had been smashed in long ago and boarded up, roof tiles had begun slipping away seasons ago so streams of light could be seen slipping through the ceiling and the splintering door had the most sophisticated lock you needed in this city; a single bolt. In short; it was the perfect house to hideaway in.

"Where the fuck is the money!?" Erik demanded, slamming the head of his bound and gagged prisoner down onto the table surface. The fragile piece of furniture threatened to crumple under the force of the blow but Erik didn't care as there were plenty of shit pieces of furniture to hurt his victim with. He grabbed a handful of his thick red hair and tugged his backwards before staring his prisoner right in the eye as trail of blood ran around it. "Tell me where the fuckin' money!" He shouted again, his breath steaming in the cold winter that the building did little to fight off.

"Piss off"
He said back, his voice somewhat muffled by the rag stuffed in his mouth like a roasted pig at a banquet. Most people would question the efficiency in gagging a man you were trying to get to talk but Erik knew that even in this rundown building, he didn't want to garner too much attention from passersby.


"Wrong answer!" Erik declared as slammed the head back down to the rough table, scraping his face across the surface to stuff his cheeks full of splinters. "I 'ate thieves. Too lazy to get a real job an' too weak to do my job. And d'ya know what I 'ate most in this foul world?" He asked rhetorically as the man whimpered quietly "Thieves with a fuckin' Zeltivan accent".

Erik had a dislike of outsiders his entire life. His old man made it clear that not only was Obal Cuasten a mage, he was an outsider. The arrival of the Daggerhands and the Sun's Birth didn't help their image. Outsider ideals in Sunberth never worked, five hundreds of bloodshed made that clear enough, so when an outsider came in and start stealing from the locals; Erik got really pissed off.

"See that bucket over there?"
He asked, pointed in the wooden bucket in the corner of the room "You've been pissin' and shittin' in that for a while now ain'tcha? I'm pour that over you an' see 'ow long it takes for you freeze ya balls off in this cold if you don't start talkin'" He threatened, his face so close to thief's that he could see the spittle on his cheeks.

The thief remained silent, his eyes refused to meet Erik's as he avoided the question. Erik stood up, shrugging his shoulders as he raised his arms with feigned exasperation. "Fine, we'll do it your way" He said as he walked over to the corner of the room and picked up the heavy bucket that was still faintly warm from the man's last trip to it. God, I thought all would stop once the kids could wipe their own arses He thought to himself, the foul smell bringing back some stressful memories.

Rest the bucket in one hand he tugged the thief back upright with the other. He didn't even bother to give him one last chance; he just tipped the bucket forward the ominous contents poured forth. The thief gagged and spluttered as he was drenched in his own urine and crap, forced to swallow some as the rag stuffed in his mouth soaked up the liquid. Erik grimaced as he felt his own boots splattered with foul fluid as smacked the floor but he was sure the thief got the worst of it.

He said, pulling up a chair fairly far away from thief who had already start shivering as the cold took hold while bit of crap ran down the side of his face, leaving him stripped of his dignity "I'm gonna light up my pipe and just sit 'ere for a while if you don't mind. My missus ain't expectin' me 'ome for while so I've got nuthin' bet'er to do".

"Let me know when you're ready to talk".
“And you have your part to play, Erik. You will be fooled, like most, but you will survive. You might even benefit it all. Hold history close to your chest, young man. That’s my advice.”
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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Konrad Venger on January 24th, 2016, 4:58 am

"Mangy bloody thing-"

"Just keep a' hold on him a while longer."

"Been tellin' me that half the-godsdamn it, dog, you do that again an' I'll take yer fuckin' eyes! We didnae rent ya fer those!"

Konrad swallowed the curse he wanted to spit and kept his eyes on the dog and the street it was leading them down. Rayn has been moaning and complaining all night, and while he could vaguely understand it, Konrad didn't particularly care to fucking hear it, over and over and sodding over.

Though he had to admit, it was an ornery petching dog.

Hound, actually, he thought, remembering the words of the girl who'd set them up with the rangy beast from her kennels. Great nose and obedient, she'd assured them. Used to tracking everything from rabbits to slaves, ten mizas for the night, thank you sir and mind the jaws-


Hound proved that the girl had been full of shyke almost as soon as they were out of the Kennels. Konrad wasn't too surprised, but he'd narrowly avoided getting a chunk taken out of him more than once since they'd got the damned thing. Rayn had some fresh teeth marks on his arm and Konrad doubted Hound would last until they returned him.

Not that Konrad would be helping Rayn out in that regard. Only an idiot courted trouble with anyone under Dastana's protection.

"Is he even getting a scent or what?"

"He's gettin' somethin'."

They'd taken something of a meandering path, and that was before they'd got the dog. Konrad didn't know tracking from fine sodding dining, but he knew that you needed something that bore a scent. So they'd gone to the Market first, where the two escapees had been staying, and found a scrap of clothing. Undergarments. Female. Nothing from the male, though...

"They better still be together," Rayn muttered to himself, dangling the soiled cloth in front of the dog one more time then jerking them away before it could tear them to pieces. "Or we're out half the money."

"Better than nothin'."

Then the dog had taken then rambling and walking across half the city, and they weren't the only ones. Maybe there had been some of the male slave's clothing left, because Konrad was certain he'd seen other hounds with their noses pressed to tiles and cobbles, sniffing, seeking, tracking-

"Ooop, this way!"

Wherever they'd gone, they'd taken a strange and unknowable route. Hound jerked on his chain down yet another alley, padding across the snow and the ice and snuffling in odd corners. Konrad noticed where it stopped, intent and curious.

Food bins. Scraps. They were hungry. Passed by here.

But where they were heading to? He couldn't say. They probavbly didn't even know. Anywhere that wasn't a cage, anywhere they could vanish and not be seen. Sunberth usually had an abundance of such places, but two slaves with a hefty bounty on their heads... that was different.

And Konrad was hoping they'd give themselves away. He knew how he looked. What he looked like. Couldn't hide it, or deny it, or really want to. He was as much paid for her rep and his look as he was his skills (though he wouldn't have the first if it wasn't for the third; the second was just an extra statement of intent). But it wouldn't just be him.

It'd be Rayn, who looked like trouble even pushing fifty. And a mangy, slavering hound barely restrained by his chain, sniffing the floor, clearly hunting.

They'l react, he tells himself, reassures himself, scanning a new street of teeming humanity. The crowd starts to part as they follow Hound's nose, avoiding his growling jaws and probing nose. Konrad keeps his head moving watching, looking-

Sees a man and a woman. Filthy and half-naked, the male wrapped a battered and almost-useless blanket around the woman.

Brands on their faces. Fear bleeding from their eyes to their mouths to their furtive, hunched stature.

They turn and see him. The moment is as frozen as the air and Konrad knows but does not know, just suspects, hopes-

They break. They run.

"There they go!"

Slaves and merks and dog are suddenly all running together and barging through the crowd ahead of them. Konrad wants this done fast, before some of the other hunters he knows are around come join the commotion. Catching the duo was no guarantee they'd get paid; getting them back to the Market alive was what counted, and Konrad knew there'd be a phalanx of bastards wanting to snatch them away.

Shit, I would.

"Get the male!" He shouted as he practically ran over a couple of begging boys who miraculously bunced to their feet cursing him a second later. "We got something for the female, can stil track-"

"Yeah, I fuckin' geddit, Kon, jus' fuckin' move!"

Again, a curse rose up but before Konrad could spit it at the old fuck, both he and Hound overshot him... or, putting it more accurately, Hound did. Rayn was along for the ride and all that "heel, bastard!" shyke was doing sod-all to help. Hound was so close to his quarry now that the whole world was nothing but that elusive scent, and everything else was just in his way. Konrad drew his sword and sped up, shoving people out the way and skidding around the corner-


-just in time to see the male yank some por sod off his horse and hoist his woman onto it. She was holding onto him, blanket falling away to reveal her ravaged, bruised body, the marks of whip and rod striped her from neck to ass. She was begging him, trying to pull him up.

Konrad saw him speak, press his hand to hers. His eyes were wet and-

Too long, wanker.

The slave turned to see three monsters bearing down on him. A Hound and a man leading it by a chain. A man with a ruined face and a sword. He swatted the horse hard with his hand and yelled. The beast reared up and his sister screamed his name. He would not see her again. He knew it. But one of them had to be free. Their line, their name, could not die in this shit-heap of sin. The horse shot off and he turned back-


-in time for Konrad to smash the hilt of his kopis into the side of his head. His vision shattered into glass shards that became black suns and his body left him, blown away from his consciousness like a candle by a storm. Konrad stood over him he looked up with eyes not really seeing, sheer stubbornness keeping him on one knee-

Long enough to see Konrad rear back and snarl, just before he cracked his boot into his face. He flopped back like a boned fish and Konrad was already turning to the horse, galloping down the street, woman barely hanging on.

"Shyke! Aw'right, grab him and-"

Something twanged in the crowd. The horse screamed, reared up and the woman fell. Konrad turned and saw her rise up with her steed over the heads of the crowd like a salmon leaping from the water... then vanish beneath the waves of it yet again.

Fuck, knew that would happen!

He yanked up the male and started dragging him along, powering through the crowd until he came across the horse. The woman, though? Vanished. But there was an archer there, a fresh arrow notched, matching the one sticking out of the horse's flank. Some slack-jawed kid with a bastard sword in his hand, obviously his partner, both of them scanning the crowd.

Konrad prioritized.

"Hey, you see where she went? James got him withFUCK!"

James The Archer heard his friend's halting, hurried voice end in a curse and jerked his head around to see some big bastard in a hat swing his sword at him. James parried, quick and desperate, but the man was already moving again, kicking out with his foot. He threw up his bow and-

"Make yerself useful and geddim, boy!"

-a hundred-sixty pounds of hungry hound crashed into him and dug its teeth in greedily, yanking and pulling apart whatever flesh it could manage as James screamed, and his partner-

Konrad had to sway back as the swordsman threw a punch as their swords clashed again, trying to break through his defense but overreaching instead, stepping too close-

-and when Konrad slammed forward, he did so crown-first-

-smashing it into the boy's nose. Everything resembling balance and coordination in the kid's form went the way of his nose and became utterly useless to him. He was aware of James screaming and begging, barrel heard above daemonic growling, tried to keep his bastard sword up but-

Konrad knocked it away from his body, far enough for him to pull back the blade close to his body and-

-impale the swords-boy through his chest. Ribs scraped against the blade, his breastbone cracked in half like a pork bone, and all the soft vitality beyond it was skewed and sliced until the blade exploded out his back, almost severing his spine as it went.

"Not a good plan," Konrad whispered in the dying kid's ear. "Tryna' steal from me."

He withdrew the blade with a sad, sick, sucking sound and let the boy die on the cobbles. Hound was still ripping chunks out of the twitching archer and Rayn had to kick him a few times to get him off and.. the slave! The fucking slave!

"No y'don't!"

Konrad kicked out at the little bastard trying to get back to his feet, sending him sprawling back down. He yanked a whip hanging off the saddle of the wounded horse and quickly bound his hands behind his back, heaving him upright as Rayn braced himself with two hands.

Hound was going crazy.

"We need to move! Scent's driving him-"

"Crazy, yeah, I... get it!"

Konrad grunted the last two words out as he half-hurled, half-shoved the bound slave across the horse's back. The beast whinnied pitifully and Konrad snapped the arrow in it's flank, not bothering pulling it out. He wouldn't be using the mare long anyway. Instead he gripped the reins and turned in Hound's direction, the alley the woman had vanished down, just as-

"H-Hey?!" He turned and saw a man standing there. Well-dressed. Politely annoyed. "That's... That's my-"

Konrad slashed down and split the archer's dead face in two without even looking. The rider turned several colors very quickly and Konrad pulled on the reins. No more words were necessary. The (former) rider watched them trot down the alley, the men and dog and his damn horse, and decided to let it slide. Just for now. Of course.

One down, Konrad told himself, shadows deepening across his face as the derelict district swallowed them all up and the light could not reach them. One to go.

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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Konrad Venger on February 16th, 2016, 1:22 am


She ran, because that's what runaways did. The fear, the intoxication, the thrill of finally being free from another man's will, it drove her feet past the wounds she had received. But there was no thought behind it, no objective. Just a vague intent of going, of fleeing, putting sheer distance between her body and those who would command it.

Konrad knew the secret, though. Wanting wasn't enough. Heart wasn't enough. Days, maybe even seasons chained up and restrained, bad food and no exercise, they all took a toll. She and her lover/brother/friend had been lucky to get as far as they did, but now the walls were closing in and the sellsword could almost taste the exhaustion creeping up her legs and into her guts.

"C'mon, boy, move!"

The hound was straining so hard the chain bit into his palm, slather and drool dripping onto the frost as it drove them forwards. Konrad broke into a jog to keep up with it, skidding to a halt now and then when it snuffled and sniffed and circled around before-

"Rayn, move!"

The older murk cursed something ripe and blasphemous and sucked one more lungful into him. The horse was far less perplexed. It whinnied questioningly and Rayn just scowled, jerking it onward with the bound slave flopping side to side across his back. Most of his face was a run, ugly ruin now. He kept waking up, shouting, yelling "Run!" or "Don't stop, Mayra!" or some other such shite, so Rayn handled the problem.

Whenever he stirred, he kept hitting him. Eventually, he stopped moving.

Fuck it, the one-eyed mercenary thought with a spit. Don't need a pretty face to work the fields. Or the docks.

Half a street ahead of him, Konrad had thoughts rushing through his head, too. Repeating, though. With every slam of his foot against the cobbles shook up his spine and ground his teeth together. His breath was coming through them in spikes. It was cold, freezing, yet sweat was coursing down him, clothes a second, soggy skin.

Outlast her. Keep moving. Don't slow. Don't stop. She'll tire before you will.

Man and dog hurtled around the corner and he caught a flash of auburn hair, hands below it hammering on a door, screaming for help, for mercy. No-one answers. They've left the Commons behind; Konrad can tell by the feel of the stones, the familiar buildings. They're in the Reaches now. Daggerhands territory. A woman screaming this late, well... doesn't pay to get involved.

She turned and saw them, terror thick and wet as the sweat covering her. The blanket was long gone, lost in her flight, nothing on her body against the cold save for the bottom of a dress and a slave collar.

"Don't fuckingSHYKE!"

Off she shot again, but her pause had cost her plenty. Konrad could see every line in her back now, every scar and slash the whip had made. She was slowing, too, favoring one leg. Twisted ankle? Stone in her foot? He didn't know, but it was making the difference.

Mayra ran, but it wasn't fast enough. She pumped her legs and forced energy from everything in her, willed her soul and her gods into her... but every time she looked behind her, the daemon and his hound were closer. Gaining on her. Wanting to take her back to-

A flagstone bought her down. Cracked and broken by some passing cart, it jutted out like the street had jaws and Mayra shrieked as her knees smashed into the ground, her pursuit ended-

-the hound finally getting its treat.

"Godsdamnit, fuck off, you stupid-!"

It took a half-dozen heavy kicks to get the hound off the girl; another few to get it docile, even if it did leave blood leaking down its face. Half a chime after landing on the slave, the dog was sat on its haunches and breaking heavy, chest heaving like a black sack. Konrad looked down and surveyed the damage, kicking away her hands as she tried to hide her-

"Ah... shyke."

It looked pretty bad. Even stitched up and smoothed by make up, she would still make a man's throat tighten whenever he saw her. She looked up, eyes empty of everything save fear and an ember of pure, visceral hatred... to see Konrad sighing like a man who'd just bought a bum nag.

"Fuck it," he muttered, dying the hound up to the empty brass stand of a street torch before pulling out the last of the rope. "She don't need a face."

"P... Please... Please, I can't-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'please please please',"
Konrad said with an unimpressed snort, tying her hands tight before jerking her upright. "Don't give me any shit about your leg, either, or I'll tie this rope around the horse's neck and have it drag you to-"

"Do it!"

Ah, a flash of fire still lived in that cold, dead vessel. Enough life to want to end. Konrad could imagine what had happened to her. Passed around by bored guards on lonely nights; poked and prodded by prospective buyers; starved and ignored in equal measure. Family gone, friends gone, home gone, hope...

"Do it. Kill me." She slumped in his arms, legs willfully useless. "I rather die than-"

"Too bad."


Konrad told himself that the next person who pissed him off, he had to use his fists. But his forehead was just so... personal. He jerked it forward, quick as a wink, and Mayra's face got a shade uglier with a broken nose. He head flopped back and she went limp, swaying this way, that way-

-until Konrad dipped low, almost on his knees, and let her fall over his shoulder. Then he jerked back up with a hiss and found-

"Hells' fuck, what took ya?"

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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Konrad Venger on February 16th, 2016, 1:47 am


"Ah, go shit in yer hat, some of us be old', yeh cunt." Rayn brought teh horse to a stop and glanced at the ravaged, ruined, lifeless slave as any other man would a package to be collected. "Fought, huh?"

"Nah, fuckin' hound. Got its teeth into her before I could get 'im off."

The older mercenary scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "Not gonna get full price fer'er."

"Yeah, figured. Still. Don't need a face to lay on her back an' make money, right? Some folk even like 'em all petched up."


"Well... fink so."
Konrad sighed again and stretched some of the stress and painting strain out of his back and legs. "Les'get back, anyway. See what that wee cunt says."

Rayn nodded his approval and two thin little cigarillos appeared as if by magic. Konrad watched him light them both in his mouth with a crooked match, then offer one to him.

Konrad pondered. What had he done? What was worth half of all he would get? Had he fought? Not really. Had he chased. Barely. So why did...

He held the dog. He managed the horse. You couldn't have managed both of 'em by yourself. You needed him, and he's useful even now.

He looked up into a face made up of more lines than flesh, so it seemed by the light of Leth and the sparse torches. He was hunched and bent and his teeth were brown. He was breathing hard and sweating, even though all he had to do was lead the horse and maybe crack the slave boy a few times when he squirmed.

Konrad scratched his stomach, just above his belt, and leaned in to take the smoke.

"Gods," Rayn said with a sigh. Konrad could taste the rot on his breath. "That was a fuckin' chase."


He's old. Think of it as a service.

Fuck that. This is business.

He moved quickly. No fucking around. His scratching hand slid down to his buckle and pulled the short, sharp, nasty little punching dagger he kept tucked just behind it. Specially made, Way Back When. Almost no-one knew about it. Well... they knew about it. Just not for very long.

Like Rayn.

The old man's eyes went wide and by the time his lips inverted around the first letter of "Petch", Konrad had shoved the blade into his throat. Punched and pushed in one movement, crushing something, carving it open-

-again. A third time. No mercy, no respite, over and over, free hand holding the old man by the hair and jerking his head back-

-nearly splitting his neck open, so large was the wound, the fountain of blood.

And Konrad had been half-expecting dust.

Rayn was dead before Konrad let go and dropped him into the cobbles. His eyes were caught between shock and hate, reminding him of the slave girl now draped over the pilfered horse with her friend. Konrad wiped his blade clean and carefully returned it to his buckle. He bent down and found a purse and... damn, Rayn hadn't been kidding about needing the money. Then he found a little pouch of baccy, and picked up the two smokes, still smoldering. One was out and shriveled and in a puddle, but the other puffed just fine.

Konrad did all this without pause. Almost without thought. It was just a corpse, after all. Why should he bother with wondering over a hunk of meat?

The sellsword straightened up and like all men who enjoy a good smoke, cured his panting lungs by filling them with burning plant matter. Go figure. He exhaled after holding it in deep, rush of steam and spent smoke puffing into the sky before vanishing. The hound whined. Shyke. Yeah, he had to handle that, too.

Still, there was a spring in his step as he grabbed the reins with one hand and the hound's chain with another, beginning the short walk to the Kennels and then the long one back to the Market. Yes, he probably wouldn't get the reward in full... but now, it was one split. The best kind.

Konrad stepped over the cooling body with the man's final gift clenched between his teeth, and left him there for the rats.

||Common||Thoughts||Pavi||Fratava||Myrian||Other's Speaking||
Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Konrad Venger
Long is The Way and Hard
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Run Rabbits Run (Erik)

Postby Anarkhos on May 12th, 2016, 1:41 pm

Pc Name: Konrad Venger

Animal husbandy (Dog)- 2

A hunting we will go
Hounds are strong and stubborn
Doing all of the work myself
A useless friend is a dead friend.
Never send a slaver to do a mercenaries job
Mizahar has no furry like Konrad pissed off
Half paid is still paid

Pc Name: Erick Murphy

Please contact me if you ever return so I may give you your grade.

"This is a nice little thread. I enjoyed reading it. I like Konrad's style of being. The way he does things and carries himself. Keep up the good work. Please be sure to go back and change this thread to graded. For any questions or concerns please feel free to pm me. Thank you."
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