Slim Pickings [Open]

[Zaniss Coilbone]

47 Fall 511 AV Laaaaaadiesandgentlemenboysandgirls STEP RIGHT UP! FIRST onthedockettoday a HANDSOME young man bythenameof Lariiiiccc. Born of Human blood and a skilled craftsman, he'll make quite an addition to any businessman or stable owner. Let's start the bidding at 300 gold mitzas: 3-3-3 canIseea3- FOUR! hundred mitzas totheyoungladyinback. Who'sgot5-5-5canIseea5 ... "Happiness in slavery," Zaniss mused as he slipped through the crowd. Ravok's Slave Market was teeming with patrons, but none among them was there for the same reason as Zaniss. He was looking for a slave to serve a different, some would say "more sinister", purpose. SOLD! tothegentlemaninback. Ladies and gentlemen our next specimen is a LOCAL! Yes, yes he is little more than a boy - not good for grownsman'slabor but he can READ AANNND WRITE! Yesyouheardright the young man can READ ANNDNDD WRITE! We'llopenthebiddingat500goldmizvas canIseea5a5a5- anybodygot5? No? Let'strya4anda5a4anda5- 450 people a BARGAIN forsuchapromisingspecimen. The adolescent did not sell and, as Zaniss watched the handlers lead him back through the open-air tent, he knew he had found his prize. The Nuit infiltrated the crowd, weaving and squeezing between businessmen and whore-mongers until he had sight of the teenager. He moved inconspicuously through the open-air tent, keeping liberal distance between himself and the slave's handlers. At length they deposited him at his cot and secured shackles on his hands and feet. The slave sat and stared at some unseen object on the ground. Zaniss approached but did not look at the boy. As he passed, he let a pouch made of fox's scrotum drop at the boy's feet. He continued on, shuffling slowly until at last he heard what he was waiting for: "Sir? You dropped this." Zaniss continued shuffling but turned his head and looked over his shoulder - a blank expression on his face. "Sir? Sir! YOU DROPPED THIS!" the boy shouted this time. Zaniss stopped and made an about-face. His eyebrows flicked up, one hand outstretched to the slave. "My dear boy, how sweet you are! How honest, how noble!" He shuffled forward and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately then knelt before him. Zaniss made sure to place the teen between himself and line of sight of any handlers and, perhaps unexpectedly, palmed the boy a makeshift file. The slave's mouth clapped shut when he felt the file and Zaniss held his gaze for only a second before rising.

[Solomus Revon]

Solomus didn't admire many things in Ravok that didn't revolve around Rhysol, but the apprentice could only listen as the auctioneer sped through his routine. How could someone train to talk so fast? It truly was a crazy, yet entertaining sound to the man. Although it didn't appear he was the person who found joy in these small details. Maybe it was the cold iron warhammer thrust through his belt loop, or maybe it was his topknot hanging down his back. Or maybe it just was the scowl that covered his face most of the day and night. Solomus was sure he probably slept with that face. But today was not the day for sleeping. Solomus was out and about, watching the crowd. The Slave Market was allowed to run by the Ebonstryfe, and unranked members like Solomus tended to be thrown into these situations. But it wasn't bad for the man. He desired to buy a slave in the future, and maybe if he was around the market long enough, and opportunity would be given to him. So Solomus bounced on his feet as he listened to the failed attempt at selling a young boy who could read and write. Solomus snorted once, sending a man standing near him moving in the opposite direction. If that was how this man tried to sell people, he might as well say the next slave could walk and talk. Shaking his head, Solomus began to watch the crowd. He caught a man weaving through the crowd towards the tent where the slaves were held. Why was he moving so fast to the tent? It wasn't like the slaves would be gone before he got there. Maybe it was his imagination taking hold, but Solomus began to follow the man ahead. The large man had little trouble getting through the crowd of buyers. It seemed a topknot and warhammer was enough to clear you a lane among men. The man ahead disappeared through the tent, and Solomus followed. But he stepped into the tent, and halted at the door. The man walked by the small boy who did not sell outside, stepping slowly. And then the boy called out to him, saying he dropped something. It took a second time for the man to realize he had dropped something, but the man finally turned around. The man returned to the boy, rubbing the top of his head, before squatting in front of him. The boy, who was tall enough to shield the man from view, blocked Solomus' sight from whatever the man had did next. But he wasn't down long, so he probably didn't explain any elaborate plan to free him. But as the man rose, Solomus crossed his arms. The follower of Rhysol didn't like this one bit. But he needed practice in espionage, and this was his chance. But what would he uncover with his spying?

[Zaniss Coilbone]

As Zaniss rose to his feet, he couldn't help but notice that he was being watched. He stood still in front of the slave for an instant before turning to leave. In that instant, his eyes had painted a picture in his memory of the man who watched him: tall, young, Ebonstryfe. Zaniss knew their look and he knew that they policed these markets but he was not alarmed by the young warrior's curiosity. "Hunter and hunted. Hunter and hunted," he repeated to himself. The Nuit exited the back side of the open-air tent and turned left to join the procession of buyers making their way back to town. He allowed the throngs to absorb him, and he followed them wherever they went. The streets were packed at the intersections and Zaniss continued along wherever the majority of the people went. He did not turn to look for the Ebonstryfe but assumed that the young guard, if he were worth his weight in salt, would have no difficulty tracking him through the crowds. At last the crowd began to thin out as buyers went their separate ways to various parts of the city. Zaniss continued on with a small pack of vagrants headed for The Silver Sliver Tavern. He moved with them toward the door, but when they entered he slipped into an adjacent alley and began to make his way toward the ghettos and low-income neighborhoods he knew so well. At length the scenery began to change from well-kept homes and causeways to the filth and decay of Ravok's poverty-stricken areas. Zaniss made his way through the alleys, stepping over the homeless and sick, weaving a complex trail to his ultimate destination: Tine's Exotic Goods. The Nuit paused in front of the doorway, seemingly lost in thought, then palmed the door open and stepped inside. Sharp rays of light from the setting sun painted the cobblestone streets behind him.

[Solomus Revon]

Just so you understand, Solomus doesn't wear anything that marks him Ebonstrye. Zaniss could be intimidated by Solomus' size, his hammer, or your guy thinks he is something he's not. But you don't know he's an apprentice.

The man stood still in front of the slave before turning away, heading out the back entrance. Solomus could only smirk, a horrible sight on his face, as he followed. This man had something to hide. That was Solomus' assumption, but there were a few things that hinted at it. Besides that one slave, he never paid attention to any other sitting under the tent. And if he had an interest in the boy, why hadn't he bought it when it was up for auction? Without bothering to question the boy with fear that the man would disappear, Solomus hustled out the tent. Solomus glanced right, and didn't see anything, so he turned left. The man would probably try and blend in with crowds, so he wouldn't get caught alone. So where ever the crowd headed, Solomus followed. And eventually the crowd began to thin. Every time people broke off, Solomus scanned their groups, making sure the man he was following didn't disappear. Truly frustrating not to see the man, both in the large crowd, or in one of the smaller crowds. But Solomus felt better when he finally saw the man break free of a crowd of drunks, heading down an alley past the Silver Silver. Walking past without glance, the apprentice followed the man as he weaved through the unkept parts of Ravok. Not a place he had visited often without cause. Yet he had a cause to come here. But what exactly was it? Why would he follow this man, stepping over and forcefully moving the homeless out of his path, for this one man? What caught his attention? Finally the tailing halted, as the man stepped through a shop with a sign that said "Tine's Exotic Goods." Solomus glanced at the sun setting behind him, and took a breath. What was waiting behind that door? Did he just walk into a trap? What was going to happen? Solomus stepped through the door.

[Zaniss Coilbone]

As soon as he heard the door behind him, Zaniss snatched a nearby girl by her arm. He wheeled around to face his pursuer and cinched his arm around the girl's neck. In his hand he held a switchblade. The remaining light of dusk glinted off its business end momentarily before the door closed again. In his best ruffian impersonation, Zaniss hissed, "Not another step boy, 'less you'd like to see her insides." The tip of his knife came to rest against the girl's neck, just beneath the corner of her jaw. The Nuit began to back away from the boy, slowly at first. His eyes never left the boy's. Zaniss pierced the girl to let him know that he meant business. Her skin dimpled and a trickle of blood wove its way down to her blouse. "PLEASE," the girl screamed, "Please don't kill me!" Her dress had become soiled and yellow with urine which pooled at her feet. "SOMEBODY HELP ME," she cried. The girl thrashed violently against Zaniss and he struggled to keep control of her. "Quiet, bitch!" Zaniss barked. He jerked her neck forcefully with his forearm, causing her to gasp and choke, then re-positioned his forearm over her mouth and nose and continued backward toward an opening in the rear of the shop. "Live or die, live or die," Zaniss whispered into the girl's ear rhythmically, his gaze fixed on the boy. "Live or die live or die live or die you decide."

[Solomus Revon]

Solomus was barely through the door before he found himself facing a hostage situation. The man he had been tailing caught a woman, holding her hostage with a switchblade to her throat. The man threatened Solomus, telling him not to move anymore, or else the woman died. Solomus watched the man, and chuckled. "You, sir, don't quite understand the situation you're in. You kill this woman, and I kill you. Not because I care about her, but because I'm an apprentice of the Ebonstryfe, and you're probably harming a follower of Rhysol." Solomus crossed his arms, his left hand rubbing the head of his warhammer. The woman being held hostage had already urinated on herself, and she thrashed about, pleading to be spared. And then Solomus noticed that the man was slowly backing out the room. Solomus shook his head, and pulled his hammer out of his belt, rolling the handle through his hands. "Oh, how I'd hate to kill this woman when I swing this hammer at you. But while she is hostage, she's in the way. But I won't wait for her to step aside either." Solomus didn't say this to frighten the man, but the woman. With the possiblity of death in the front and back, she would probably freak out, and make this easier. "Now, tell me what you did back at the Slave Market." A simple statement that was easy to understand. Tell me, or die. But did this man fear death?

[Zaniss Coilbone]

Let me know if this is too much IC movement for one post. I'll edit. Thanks for clearing up the Ebonstryfe bit.

Throughout the many years of his existence, Zaniss had born witness to spectacular warriors of enormous stature but this boy seemed different in some way. Perhaps it's his drive, his curiosity. He tried to push the thought from his mind and continued backward, completely ignoring Solomus' warning. Upon hearing another threat on her life the woman began to shriek and stamp her feet. Zaniss yanked her head back with his forearm, bloodying her nose, then wrapped his arm around her neck and began to squeeze with as much strength as he could muster. The woman's face began to turn red and her eyes rolled up into her skull. A wheezing sound escaped her purple lips. "Bluff me bluff me bluff me," Zaniss repeated in a low tone. The boy showed typical signs of adolescent logic: Solomus didn't want Zaniss to kill the girl but would not hesitate to do the same for the price of information - perhaps entirely irrelevant information at that. It was at this moment of realization that the Nuit instigated the second part of its plan. Zaniss continued to drag his victim backward, openly defiant of the boy's warning. Eventually they passed the horrified shop keeper huddled behind a partition. The Nuit glanced at the shop keep, then to the boy, then back to the shop keep who, with a trembling arm raised, pointed backward beyond a tarp-covered doorway. Zaniss dragged his victim backward through the tarp and into a storage room. The ground was littered with trash and parts of disassembled gadgets. Zaniss shuffled backward through the garbage and rammed his shoulder against an exit door. The thin material gave way under his weight and he continued through into a back alley with his hostage.

[Solomus Revon]

Besides the fact that I named myself Ebonstryfe, I didn't think I cleared it up. But for the future, members of the Ebonstryfe don't get armor marking them a follower until they obtain the rank of soldier. Apprentices can name themselves followers, but until they earn the armor, there is no visual proof.

Many people probably would've felt sorry for this woman. She didn't ask to be in this situation, for a blade held to her throat. She didn't offer her life as ransom for this man's escape. But Solomus watched with the scowl on his face, and hammer in his hand. Could he really crush her skull like a melon to get to this man? Solomus killed people, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. At least, he didn't enjoy killing those who didn't deserve it. Solomus was sure he wouldn't kill this man either. The apprentice wished to practice his interrogation and torture was something he'd enjoy to learn. And this man would be a good practice dummy. Solomus slowly stepped forward as the man bloodied the woman up. His little scheme worked, sending the woman into a bigger frenzy, but she couldn't break free of the man's grip. Solomus was also disgusted to see the shopkeeper show this man the way out of the shop. Later Solomus would speak with this man, but for now, he followed this man while he slowly backpeddled with his hostage. So into the storage room they went. Solomus barely noticed the trash and gadgets, both eyes on the man who stepped out of the backdoor. Solomus shook his head, figuring that they were about to step into a back alley. Why did everything happen in an alley? So with his hammer ready in his right hand, Solomus stepped out, following the man into only Rhysol knew what.

[Zaniss Coilbone]

A cool breeze washed over Zaniss as he entered the alley with his hostage. He knew where this encounter would end, even the boy did not. The girl had long since ceased her thrashing and now she clung to Zaniss' forearm with both hands. The more they moved, the more her feet began to drag and, as the door swung shut behind them, Zaniss realized he could not carry her much further. "Please. . ." she sobbed. "Please let me go." Her tears had soaked through the arm of Zaniss' jacket and he dreaded the idea of having to wash his clothes. He turned his head quickly to look behind and noticed that the alley extended to their rear and then opened into darkness beyond. Zaniss moved his forearm from her neck and covered her mouth. Quickly, and without hesitation, the Nuit pierced the girl's throat with the switchblade. A muffled cry died out against the breeze and it was at this point that Zaniss released her from his hold. The girl doubled over, both hands covering the wound, and began to gasp uncontrollably. A steady bead of blood painted the cobblestones at her feet and she began to stagger forward. "Come come come comecomecome," he chattered. Zaniss waited until the door began to open then kicked the girl's rump forcefully, propelling her toward the door. Knife in hand, he wheeled around and sprinted toward the darkness. Within seconds, he had rounded out of the alley and was again loose on Ravok's city streets. This time, however, he knew where he was going.

[Solomus Revon]

As Solomus pushed into the door, something slammed into it on the other side. The door smashed into his forehead, stunning him for a moment. He shook it off though, and suddenly felt something warm on his forehead. A slight wipe on his forehead showed Solomus that this man caused an apprentice injury. His forehead was cut, and blood was slowly oozing out. Assault on an Ebonstryfe was public torture and probably death, and Solomus was ready to deliver it too. This man would feel pain soon. Solomus stepped out the door, and saw what was thrown into him. The woman laid on the cobblestone, dead from a puncture wound in her throat. The bastard stabbed her and used her to slow him down. But he couldn't worry about the body yet. He needed to catch the man. Would the vile people of Ravok rape a dead body, or just loot it? Hammer in hand, and blood running down his face, Solomus ran after the man. He would pay. But could Solomus catch him, or will he put his spies to use for the first time?