Closed No Stone Unturned (Valerius)

[Konrad Venger]

Bugger, why didn't I think of that?

Admiration was fast giving way to jealousy as Konrad watched Valerius further unravel Jeron's tapestry of bullshyke. He was sold when Jeron told his sob story, easily willing to believe a man stupid enough to rip off a Dynast would be equally stupid enough to put his trust in some shady bastard who'd do the same to him.

Thing was, those were two different species of stupid, and Konrad didn't see that. Valerius, though, had put it together. Saw how it didn't make sense, that someone so careful could be so stupid... and he'd hit the little sod with the truth in such a way that there were no more lies left in him.

Didn't need to even break his skin, either, Konrad seethed to himself as he watched. It was an education, for sure, but still... it was never nice to be outclassed somewhere you thought you were beyond reproach.

That jealousy was fast forgotten, however, as Jeron spilled the last, crucial detail. Konrad snorted as he heard where the two thieves had stashed their loot. Fitting then, that one would meet his fate in another vacant lot. Behind the seated and slumped figure, Three Eyes exchanged a look with him.

A wiggle of his brows. A tiny shrug of his shoulders. The ghost of a smile.

That would be the way, of course. The Sunberth way. We go, we find, but we don't say we did. Come back to Janus, shrug our shoulders and say "hey, we did what we could, and at least you've got a nice, fresh corpse".

Thing was, they weren't in Sunberth... and Konrad hadn't got near enough reputation to risk doing something like that. He was still on the lower rungs and he needed to work his way up. As Valerius pulled his kukri free and rose to his feet, he was acutely reminded of that.

“I would check if the money is really there before you pass the judgement though. If it turns out that he lied again it might be necessary to pay the wife a visit after all.”

Konrad studied that calm, pale face. He'd seen marble busts with more human feeling in them. He took back his kukri, cleaned it front-and-back on the side of his breeches, then sheathed it. But before he went and took his "master's" advice-

"Which lot?" He peered around Valerius' head and fixed his eyes on Jeron, forcing his eyes up with his stare and tone alone. "And where exactly inside?"

Whatever lies Jeron had left, Valerius had exhausted both them and his confidence to spin them. Whatever defiance he had, Konrad's stare was enough to make it skitter back into teh shadows of his soul like a whipped dog. The thought of that thing and his three-eyed pet even on the same street as his family...

"Ac-cross from the D-Draer's Distrillery," he said, falling over his words, not able to keep up the staring contest by the last words. "F... Fireplace. Upstairs. Inna' bedroom."

"Good."

Konrad walked over, and before Jeron could say anymore he jammed the gag back into his mouth. It went in limply that time, fear blossoming on the dealer's face but it was just instinctive, animal reaction. His eyes were dead. Lost.

The sellsword looked at Three Eyes and then Valerius... who to leave, who to take... and then jerked his chin towards his longtime partner.

"Eyes? Soften 'im up fer when we come back. But dun' kill 'im yet, like Va... like the boss says." Gods, he nearly choked on those words, but at least they prepared him for the next. He turned to face Valerius and gestured to the door like a nice little valet, but his crooked smile held plenty of warning for anyone fool enough to push the facade. "Let's go get that money... ser."

[Valerius Nitrozian]

As he realized that Konrad was looking at him, studying him in fact, Valerius gave him a slightly questioning look only to focus his attention on Jeron again a moment later. Whatever Konrad was thinking, it didn’t matter in the long run. They weren’t done, not yet. He didn’t know where Draer’s Distillery was – things such as alcohol held little interest for him – but he assumed that Konrad would be familiar with the layout of the city.

“Thank you”, he remarked as Konrad put the gag back into Jeron’s mouth. “I was already getting tired of him. Some people just don’t know when to stop talking …” He cast a glance at the ropes that bound Jeron and made sure that they were still as tight as ever – it wouldn’t do if the man suddenly jumped up and tried to escape while they were gone. He doubted that he would be overwhelm Three Eyes, but still, it would bothersome.

He didn’t smile as he noticed that Konrad seemed to have some difficulty calling him “boss” – although it was without a doubt amusing - but simply inclined his head and stepped through the door. He understood that it would be unwise to keep up his little ploy any longer than absolutely necessary. It irked him to some extent, but he consoled himself with the fact that he would become the man who was in charge soon enough, if Rhysol was willing.

“I hope that my little performance impressed you sufficiently and that you are a little more convinced of my skills now, Mister Venger”, he remarked once the door was closed behind them. He sounded a hint less arrogant now. Despite everything Valerius Nitrozian knew when it was time to stop. “Lead the way. I’m afraid I don’t know where exactly we have to go.”

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad rifled around in his pockets for his pipe before he decided not to waste the baccy. It wouldn't be that much of a walk, and he knew what a novice error it was, having one hand busy and your eyes filled with smoke when you were collecting loot with someone you didn't trust.

Didn't trust, but could appreciate. As his hands reappeared from his jacket he looked Valerius up and down, noting the slight change in tone. The other man wasn't playing a role anymore, either. Now it was "Mister Venger", and Konrad had to admit, he liked that.

Throw the boy a bone. It'll shut him up at least.

"Now I know why yer a teacher," he murmured as they started walking. "Plenty goin' on up there, aye?"

Valerius' reply notwithstanding, the rest of their walk was spent in silence. The Peacock was content to follow, and the Vulture led the way, knowing the alleys and side-streets better that the thoroughfares. Such was his nature, after all. Besides, that's where most of his business took place.

Dry Island, the Midnight Market, Oath Island... they passed through them all, through streets empty and turgid, especially at the Midnight Market. But the West Bank seemed perpetually bustling, travelers and visitors all crowding into Kenash, forced into the bottleneck of this district that was made for the new arrival. But even that area had its empty spaces...

"Here."

Konrad grunted and expected Valerius to just follow his lead. Opposite the Draer brewery - now closed, save for a couple of slaves inside cleaning - was another abandoned hulk of a structure. Konrad frowned as he studied it, seeing dusty and rotting stirrups in the broken windows, cracked saddles beyond it and the faded, pockmarked image of a neighing horse hidden from view inside.

"This way."

Breaking and entering was hardly something new to him. Everywhere had a back door, and the back of everywhere was generally the least-observed. Especially when it was abandoned in the first place. NBut Konrad still had his kukri back in his hand as he shouldered the door open, just in case any addicts or transients were calling the skeletal store home.

WHAMP!

The door swung open with a crack against the wall... and standing in the Leth-light, Konrad heard nothing bigger than rats and roaches scurrying for cover as hated company arrived. He walked inside and wasted no time, not studying the walls nor shelves, merely looking for the stairs and taking them gently, easily-

Don't wanna petch with rotting wood, boy.

-until they were in darkness again, and Konrad breathed out at the top of the stairs, musty wood and decaying rodents filling his nose... and breathed out...

Behind him, Valerius would see the unlikely mage lit by a green glow that seeped from his hands like water through a glass of ice. His fingers became alive with a green res flecked with black slashes, until the mist rose-

-transformed into liquid, Konrad staring at it with utmost concentration, knuckles white around the handle of his kukri-

Burn.

With a thought, the sickly-looking ball was aflame, the surface of it bursting into life, casting light all around. Konrad looked back at him, lit by the torch rotating a few inches above his hand, and jerked his head towards the hallway.

"C'mon."

The bedroom with a fireplace. Hardly a difficult thing to hide. Konrad stepped inside and took in the bed with only a frame and no mattress, the chest of drawers without drawers, the carpet now a mildew-covered mess and the wallpaper peeled off in huge reams as if the walls had been flayed.

But as he stepped closer and crouched by the fireplace... he saw the dust wasn't nearly as heavy around the tiles.

Looks promising... but still.

"A'right," he said as he stood up, and carelessly tossed his kukri in Valerius' direction. Regardless of whetehr he caught it or not, Konrad knew he was in for a good show. Once the Peacock had the thing in his hand - one way or another - he'd jerk his thumb towards the fireplace, other hand still "holding" their torch aloft. "Geddown there and see if the wee bastard was lyin'. I'll keep ya lit."

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Indeed“, he remarked as Konrad said that he had plenty going on „up there“. He did not try to talk to him as they walked through Kenash. There was no need for conversation, for now. It seemed wiser to observe his surroundings and the man that walked next to him and try to memorize the way to their destination. Konrad preferred the side-streets and backalleys, as he had suspected. It was rather interesting to get to know the city this way, and useful, if he ever needed to get somewhere without being seen.

He had never seen the city so empty before, especially not around the Midnight Market, and he realized that it would be quite easy to dispose of somebody here and not get caught. He needed to remember that. He cast a glance at the much taller Sunberthian, considering him. Had he ever let a corpse disappear in the dead of night? Probably, more often that he could count. Mister Venger seemed to be the kind of man that enjoyed doing that.

The building in front of which they stopped was not particularly impressive, to be honest. Valerius hoped that the walls were still stable and than they wouldn’t come crashing down on him while he helped Konrad look for the money. Breaking and entering was definitely new to him, but he didn’t mind, especially since the building was currently not in use and there was something that he wanted to have inside. It was only wrong when others did it.

As Konrad forced the door open – a bit too loudly for his taste – Valerius stayed a step behind him, so that the addicts, beggars, whores and various criminals that might lurk in the house would get him first (and get killed in the process). Valerius didn’t have any problems working together with a man like Konrad or threatening somebody with the torture, rape and subsequent murder of his wife and child, but rotting things and mildew were another matter. Those he could do without.

He only breathed as much as he absolutely had to as they made their way up the stairs. That Konrad could move so quietly and carefully surprised him for a moment, but then he came to the conclusion that he should have expected it. A man did not last long in Konrad’s job if he trampled around like an elefant and alerted the house’s potential occupants of his presence.

Konrad’s magic didn’t catch him by susrprise as much anymore. He watched with comparatively mild interest as he lit the torch. Once he could see his surroundings a little better, he followed him into the bedroom, a complete mess as it turned out. Valerius was not much of a fighter, but he had quick reflexes and managed to catch the kukri - with a little luck. Of course the man expected him to get on his knees and search the fireplace! It was Konrad’s job. It was Konrad’s boss that wanted the money, so why did he need to get dirty?

But then again, he could tell Konrad’s boss, if he ever met the man, that he had been essential in not only interrogating Jeron, but also in finding the money. In the end Valerius Nitrozian was a rather practically thinking man, and thus he shrugged his shoulders, approached the fireplace and bent down without hesitation. He could see that there was not quite as much dust here, as if somebody had been there only a few days ago. He raised his left and systematically inspected every single tile and stone while he held the kukri in his right hand, just in case.

“There”, he remarked and gestured for Konrad to come a bit closer with his torch. “Can you see it? The stones are a little loose there.” He put the kukri on the floor besides him and started to pull as hard as he could. After a while and quite a bit of dust, there were a few stones besides him and a hole with a small chest in it in front of him. He removed the chest and handed it to Konrad. “I thought that you might want to open it yourself”, he remarked as he brushed the dust off his clothes. “Is the money inside?”

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad wasn't used to people offering him anything, no matter how trivial. In his word, that was just another way to bamboozle and distract you; keep your eyes on the shiny and off the knife headed for your back. So while one hand reached out for the latch on the chest Valerius held, his right hand turned just a little bit so the palm was facing the Peacock, torch still suspended above it...

Ready to launch it into that aristocratic face the moment the little sod made a wrong move.

Turns out, he didn't need the concern, not that night. The latch sprang open with a little torrent of dust and the inside of the chest smelled much fresher that the dusty outside. He closed his hand around the bulging leather bag inside and held it up for Valerius to see, tossing it up in the air and catching it-

Chink! Chink! Chink!

-but frowning as he did so. After a few moments he spat disgustedly and swore in a language that was not Common.

"Ain't a thousand," he said confidently, stepping away and feeling the hundreds of little metal circles beyond the untreated leather sack. "I'd say... couple a' hundred light, maybe three." He shrugged, tossed the bag back in the chest. "Youse carry it, an' stick close. We're gonna tie off the loose end then run this back t'the man."

Konrad smiled thinly, knowing well that it wasn't the job, or the favor, or any kind of shiny reward that Valerius was after. He was a social climber, that one, and he wanted the oh-so-necessary introductions, just like back in his city of dark cathedrals and bloodless petching aristocracy.

Well, he can petching have it, then.

"C'mon," he muttered, extinguishing the light with another thought and clenching his hand shut. A slight flutter trembled up his muscles and he battened it down, forced it deeper into himself, drowned the fatigue in his pool of djed. He'd held the flame alive for longer than usual, and his body was punishing it for him. "Time t'move."

He didn't wait for Valerius to start moving, even in the near-pitch darkness of the abandoned building. The Peacock either would, or he'd remain lost, stumbling, blind, and Konrad would drag him out of there like a child.

He was in a wee bit of a rush, now. He knew what Three Eyes was like when he had something to-

THUNK

THUD

CRACK

-play with.

Three Eyes had to admit, he hadn't been this hard in a while. Another few chimes and he'd have to adjust his breeches again: it was starting to get in the way of his stance as he-

WHUMP

-sent another right cross into Jeron's face, hearing something crack and burst high in his face. Probably a cheekbone. Maybe that little one behind his eye. Oh, that always hurt like a bastard.

"Ooooof... tough wee sod, aren't ya?"

Jeron couldn't see out of one eye anymore. One of Eyes' first decent cracks had swollen up his right like a purple cabbage, crowding out his vision so he had to crane around to use his left... but he didn't even have the strength for that anymore. Every inch of his face was a bruised, aching mass and even breathing hurt him. Pained him. Made him wish this was just over.

But for now, Three Eyes was taking a breath.

"Petch me," he murmured as he massaged his bruised knuckles. "Too long since I did this kinda work, y'know? Gotta keepo it regular-like, or yer bone lose that hardness, I find. Still!"

That last word was enough to set Jeron quivering again. Mute behind his gag, helpless behind his bindings, all he could do was watch the shadow of Three Eyes loom over him, voice full of dribbling excitement of what was to come.

He felt the man jerk him up by the hair. Smelled rotting food and decaying teeth in his mouth and saw ranks of fetid, stained chompers beneath two living eyes and one carved into his bulbous nose.

"No time like the present, aye-"

CRUNCH

Jeron vomited behind his gag for maybe the fifth time and, alas, again he did not choke to death when he swallowed it down. His shoulders bobbed with silent sobs and he tried to remember some prayer, some plea, anything that could help him... but none would, and nothing could. The world turned and laughed and cried and plotted and loved beyond that wrecked room, and Jeron was no longer part of it. Until-

Three Eyes looked up and stalled his fun as he heard footsteps approaching. Sounded like... two pairs... and he both hoped and feared at once. The latter because two men were a handful for him, unless he could carve one open sharpish. Hopeful because it was more likely Kon and the Ravok bastard, and that meant they could get going.

He sighed, a pang of regret shooting through him as he beheld the bruised, bleeding living wasteland of Jeron's face. His own honest handiwork.

"Ah, well," he muttered, fingering one of his several knives as he waited to see who'd appear in the doorway. "Fun while it lasted, lad."

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius noticed the suspicious look that Konrad gave him as he removed the chest from its hiding place. Apparently the man didn’t trust him to hand the money over. He met his gaze without flinching and stood there very calmly as he waited for Konrad to take it. He didn’t need those measly thousand mizas. He wanted Konrad to be aware of that. He was more interested in the non-monetary rewards.

As Konrad proceeded to curse – in a language he didn’t know, it seemed to be neither Nader-Canoch nor Vani or Arumenic and definitely not Common – he raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Valerius knew when it was time to talk and when it was time to be quiet and stay in the background, and now was it was definitely time to be quiet. Apparently Jeron had spent some of the money after all.

He took the chest, handed Konrad his kukri back – he thought that the man might want to have his weapon again - and stayed very close to the Sunberthian as they walked back to the abandoned building. No, walking was a bit of an understandement. Konrad seemed to be in a rush which he found a bit odd. What was he worried about? That Three Eyes and Jeron had been discovered? That Three Eyes’ so called softening up had not been exactly soft?

Apparently it had been the latter, he decided as they finally reached their destination.

He sneered inwardly as his gaze fell on Three Eyes. Somebody had been busy. What more, the man with the unfortunate tattoo seemed to have found his private little torture session rather … stimulating. He didn’t mind that Three Eyes had had his fun, in more than one way apparently – even freaks like he deserved to have some fun every once in a while - but Valerius himself very much preferred the clean and trained slaves in the Caged Sun to that sorry looking bastard.

He turned away from Jeron. If the man thought that it would be over now that the supposed Lord Radacke was back with what little remained of the money, that he might have mercy on him, he would be disappointed. Jeron had unfortunately outlived his usefulness. The only thing that bothered Valerius was that Three Eyes had been rather uncreative in his overeagerness, but then again, what could be expected of a man like him?

“Now would be a good time to tie off the so called loose ends we talked about, don’t you agree?” Valerius remarked, somewhat nonchalantly, to Konrad. “I’ll just watch, unless you require my help of course.”

[Konrad Venger]

"Nah... Nah, I dun' think so..."

Konrad was hardly a man blessed with an abundance of imagination, but every thinking soul have some creativity to them. They possessed the ability to, if not produce wholly original concepts, then fashion and adapt some new dimension from an existing one. Since he'd felt Trevin's power course into him through his hands, Konrad had been doing that, in a manner of speaking. He was not the first man to use Reimancy, but the power certainly was his. He owned it, it flowed in him and he could conjure it as he willed.

But how, that made all the difference. The forms it took, the practicalities it could be applied to...

Tonight, Konrad had one in mind.

He did not talk. No more of that was necessary. He walked to Jeron and there was the scraping hiss of a chair being dragged across the dusty ground as he went. He planted it in front of the trembling, barely-conscious man and then planted himself on it. Konrad studied Three Eyes' work.

Man always was an artist with his knuckles, he thought, noting the ratty wee bastard struggling not to stroke himself. Been too long without a canvas, I guess.

Konrad was silent for some time, leaving Valerius and Eyes' to just watch, and wait. The latter was about to ask what the petch was next and then Konrad raised his hands... one on either side of Jeron's head... palms facing the battered dealer's skull.

Breath... focus... and... exhale...

He did as his mind whispered and with the last action, green res streaked with black started to leak out of his fingers and palms like mist under a door. Konrad closed his eyes and heard the beat of his djed like the pounding of his heart, amplified and feeding off each other, until he opened them again and willed the djed to become water-

Just as Jeron started to truly panic.

The djed was covering his face. Konrad's eyes were twin Synas of concentration, teeth clenched as he willed the liquid to pour over bruised flesh and seep into nostrils, ears, eye sockets, mouth and throat. Jeron started to shake and shudder, feeling himself drown on this miasma of disgusting wyrd that was covering him, choking him, violating him even as his eyes bulged and defied biology to both open-

He saw the black hat and the scarred face through a film of green. Saw the sheen of sweat across it and one hand raised in front of his face.

Saw green eyes to match the djed crawling all over his skin. The hand next to it.

The grin. The triumph. The pride in what he'd dine.

SNAP!

Burn.

Three Eyes clenched his jaw to tight he felt a molar crack under the pressure. The green djed became a minor firestorm as Konrad snapped his fingers, lips moving silently in one word that he could well-guess. Jeron tried to scream but in an instant all that choking liquid was ablaze, burnign through flesh, through the jelly of his eyes, the chords of his throat, his tongue, his teeth, sizzling through his skull and charring anything it could reach with relish.

Konrad slumped back into his seat and let his hands drop. He didn't even need to will the flames to Out, like before. He knew the flames would do their job without him, and besides which... there was only so much fuel they could feast upon.

Instead, he watched. Silver Leth crowded out by raging orange and yellow. Black, greasy smoke from scorched fat belching from lips turned into blackened shreds. A handsome face shrunken and immolated into a shrunken horror, down to the neck and shoulders...

He watched, until the flames burned out and only the smoking cadavaer was left. Then he reached out with a foot, planted it on the thing's chest and kicked it back so chair and Jeron both fell with a clatter onto the floor.

"Right," Three Eyes said after a hefty swallow, "We petching go, now?"

"Not quite yet."

Konrad's dagger gleamed in the air, a moment after there was the stilted, ripping sound of a tunic being pulled open. "Not just yet..."

A handful of chimes later, Konrad slid out from the shadows, cleaning his blade before returning it to his boot. Two figures followed him out of the abandoned building that now stank of sweat and blood and burning flesh. They were headed to the Midnight Market, and did not look back as they reclaimed their horse and wound through the alleys, back to the road, and away from the resting place of Jeron.

His pain was over, but even in death he served a purpose. The Radacke wanted a message sent, all right... but not necessarily the one expected. Konrad had received instruction about that, too.

"Nothing helps restore confidence in government like a little fear, Mister Venger."

Which was why, under the unrecognizable ruin of his face, now just one massive burn covered in black and peeling, cooked skin, Jeron's chest was also scarred, only far more precisely. Once the blood was cleaned away, two words could be read there. Carved onto his skin with a straight, sharp blade.

DYNAST DOG

As they began walking to the Midnight Market, Konrad smiled to himself. He hadn't long been in Kenash, but he was learning quickly. One of the most recent lessons had proved itself already, and would prove itself after tonight.

When in doubt, blame the petching Rujaro.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius did not say anything either. Hands clasped behind his back and his posture completely straight, he stood to the side of the Sunberthian, as if he were watching a theater performance whose quality he was not at all sure about yet and not the murder of a man who had made a stupid mistake. If they had asked him to do it, Jeron’s death would have been an almost business-like, scientific affair, he would have cut him up with a knife, but as it seemed Konrad had other things in mind.

Interesting, he thought as Konrad raised his hands and released his magic again. He still did not trust this particular art, still did not like it, but he had to admit that one could occasionally do useful things with it. Three Eyes seemed to be nothing but a sick pervert, but Mister Venger was more than that. That substance - he didn’t know what it was or what it was called – covered Jeron’s face and seemed to seep into every orifice, like some kind of poison, but it was not poison. At least he did not think it was.

Valerius found himself reminded of some of the things his aunt Amanda had done to her Kelvic in the Research Institute. Konrad’s talent was still raw and unrefined in many ways, but there was definitely potential there. He could not help but wonder what the man could have accomplished in Ravok, with a little tutelage (and perhaps proper hygiene and somebody that taught him good manners). Jeron seemed to be chocking, he was burning, screaming.

He had to admit, the sight did not leave him entirely unaffected, but the smell of burning flesh was something that he could do without. He did not show that though. He had no interest in admitting a weakness. He did not look away even for a single moment, but kept his gaze firmly focused on Jeron. He wanted to observe every detail of what happened to him, where it began, how long it would last, how long Jeron would last and when it would stop. Despite the fact that he worked as a teacher here, he had never stopped being interested in medicine, had never stopped being interested in certain kinds of research.

Even after Jeron’s face had been reduced to an undefinable, barely human looking smoking mass, Konrad claimed that they were not done yet. He only realized why Konrad had insisted on carving those words into Jeron’s chest after they had left the building with his corpse and made their way to the Midnight Market. Of course, somebody needed to be blamed for Jeron’s death, and who was better suited for that than somebody that hated everything that had something to do with the dynasties of Kenash?

[Konrad Venger]

The Eypharian had talent, Janus had to admit. Of course, he was more likely to admit it after four of those six hands were running across his tunic and making his flesh quiver under it. That was certainly apt to make a man well-disposed to complimenting others.

"Sir?"

Then Needam's face had to hove into view from the doorway and spoil it, of course. He scowled at the man from behind the multi-armed temptress giving him a private dance and made a quick, violent "What?!" gesture with both hands.

"Some lads t'see you, sir."

"Who?"

He suspected the answer before Needam gave him one name, and the description of the other two... although the third he didn't quite recognize. But there weren't many men in Kenash with a petching eye plastered across their nose, and Mister Venger never went anywhere without his tubby, loyal dog, it seemed.

"I'll be out directly," he said, sighing in the girl's face as the door closed. "Sorry, my dear. Duty calls..."

Konrad could smell the copulation in the as soon as he walked in the door of the knocking-shop. Of course it had some exotic name above the front door, something about sands and winds, but one good lungful told him all he needed to know about the purpose of the place.

Still, he thought with a slight pout, little telling. I thought Janus was dead below the petching waist.

He clasped his hands in front of him in the office a meathead named Needam had escorted them to, the owner apparently deciding to be elsewhere. Konrad ran his eyes over bric-a-brac and ornaments from around the southern corners of the world, killing time while they waited and-

A low moan drew three pairs of eyes upwards... and Konrad's swiveled to meet Three Eyes' leering expression.

"Posh place, aye?"

"Aye," Konrad said with a surprisingly dry tone. "Pretty petchin' aristo-"

The door opened and Janus walked in. Ah, that smell again. Not dead indeed. Konrad's arm tightened around the chest under it and he placed it on the table before Janus had seated himself behind it. The Radacke man opened it without a word... and frowned at the contents.

"I can tell that isn't all that was stolen."

"And you'd be right," Konrad said without a trace of fear or untruth. "Guessin' Jeron and Harven-"

"Harven?"

"His partner, at the Towery. We'll deal with him anuvver night."

Janus nodded thoughtfully at Konrad's casual words and their lethal meaning. It was the way of men like him, he'd noticed. Dress Dira's embrace up as anything but something brutish and crude and you took away the fear of it, or something like that. Janus enjoyed the self-deception, even if he saw a blatant romanticism when he saw it.

"Anyway, he probably spend some'uv it, too. I'd wager... eight hundred still there, maybe. Either way, yer man gets his coin back, an' the two wee shites who cooked it up'll be gone."

Janus' jaw tightened instinctively at Konrad's flippant tone. "Yer man"? Such words to describe a noble of the Radacke Dynasty! Jaaris Radacke had been crafting works of architectural genius since Konrad was learning to play with himself, yet he spoke so... so...

"Then you have my thanks, and the thanks of the Radacke," he said in a level tone. His eyes swung to the unfamiliar face next to Konrad and Three Eyes, standing out starkly thanks to the company alone. "And who would this be, Mister Venger?"

Here we go.

"This," Konrad said with a quick gesture of his hand, no expert when it came to introductions. "is Valerius. Man gave me a lotta help tonight, wheedlin' out where that Jeron shite hid yer coin, who he worked with, how he did it... get ev'ry'thin' outta him, and sharpish. Didnae even hafta' put a finger on him."

The chest was delivered. A body had dropped, another would follow. There were no witnesses save in this room and, finally, the word had been delivered and the introduction made. Konrad's work was done, and he set his hat back on his head, always feeling somewhat naked without it.

He slid a glance to Valerius, and by the soft red light of the candles with their colored lampshades, tipped the man a nod that held nothing but simple appreciation.

"A useful man, I'd wager. I'll leave youse two t'talk. Sure y'can find me again when y'need a problem handled. Eyes?"

A few moments later the two of them were out the door and searching for somewhere to toast their success, slake their lust, indulge their addictions or hells, maybe all three at once.

OOCOkay! You can tie it off now, Val. Janus is an NPC I created to be a buffer between Konrad and whatever Radacke might have need of him. Don't go hog wild with him, obviously, but you can at least make yourself known. When it comes to the other Radacke noble NPCs, as long as they're not Level 3 Gnosis Marked and it doesn't specify otherwise, I think you can roleplay with them without Mod presence in the thread.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius had thought that they would visit one of the residences of the dynasties – or meet with Konrad’s employer in a private room at an inn where they could talk in peace. Apparently he had been wrong. There was something about the atmosphere of the place that made its purpose clear even though he didn’t see any of the people that worked here.

While Three Eyes seemed to be barely able to contain himself – by Rhysol, did the man ever think about anything besides sex? – Valerius sat down on an empty chair, back completely straight and face expressionless and waited. He would not lower himself to the tattooed man’s level.

He let Konrad do most of the talking once Janus finally arrived. It was quite obvious what kind of activity they had interrupted, but it would be unwise to show the man that he’d noticed. He’d thought that the man would be furious once he had heard that they had only managed to retrieve part of the money, but he dealt with the bad news in a comparatively reasonable way.

“Valerius Nitrozian”, he said as Konrad finally introduced him. Of course it was like the man not to say his full name, as if he were a mere commoner.. “Of the Nitrozian family of Ravok. What Mister Venger is trying to tell you is that I interrogated Jeron and was able to procure the information that you were looking for, sir. Mister Venger’s help was invaluable though as was his business partner’s”, he added lest the Sunberthian be offended. Besides, he doubted the job would have been as easy if the hygienically challenged man with the hat and his associate hadn’t been there and looked appropriately threatening.

He nodded his head in a greeting as Konrad and Three Eyes took their leave before he turned back to Janus. The tone of his voice was unfailingly polite. In Ravok he had been Sitanos Nitrozian’s grandson, an influential man, but here his position was still precarious. He needed to tread carefully. It would be unwise to appear too arrogant. Janus did not seem to take kindly to such behaviour.

He told him that his grandfather was Sitanos Nitrozian, a rather influential businessman and slaver and that his aunt was a scientist of some renown, but decided not to reveal any of the darker things that his family were involved in. He did not know what Janus thought about those yet. He also briefly mentioned his studies at the University of Zeltiva and some of his previous work, such as the interrogation of Alice Lark, a noble lady, but he kept other things to himself. It would be unwise to spill all his secrets right away.