[The Docks] Desperate times and desperate acts. (Solo)

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 18th, 2012, 11:12 pm

52nd of Winter, 511AV

[On the run. It seemed like forever since Faylon could stop looking over his shoulder. All this because he’d killed a group of thugs trying to take his boots and then murdered an innocent man who just wouldn’t listen to his explanations. Every night when he slept Faylon replayed the events over in the back of his mind. Dreaming about what he could have done differently but nothing ever seemed to change and he was stuck here in Zeltiva. Likely not a wanted man but still homeless nonetheless. At one point Faylon had wanted to return to the house where he left Smee’s body and the others but that would been stupid. The Hypnosis he used to detour the acquaintance of Smee’s from entering had likely worn off hours after he had accomplished his task and authorities were summoned almost as soon Faylon had imagined leaving him out in the cold and unwilling to return to where all this began.]

[The Bonesnapper wasn’t kind. The Winter in Zeltiva had brought on cold winds that chilled Faylon down to the bone as they blew in from the bay. Must be where the wind got its name from. Outside, sleeping in alleys mostly, Faylon had really let himself go. Once smooth shaven he now sported much of a beard and his features appeared much more weathered thanks to the elements. The Cloak, made of wolf fur and lined comfortably, became more of a blanket for him in the night down whatever alley he sought refuge and his sword hung sheathed in its scabbard over his hip ready for use and a sign that the man was willing to use it if required. Sadly Faylon’s mind had changed too and he was much more willing to draw steel on a man than he might have been at one time.]

[During his time on the streets Faylon had learned though, he watched from the darkness as one of the unnoticed and slowly he started to clue into things just a bit better. On one street he discovered a small gang of thugs ran the alley like their own private paradise. On the docks he knew several warehouses where the Merchants were cheats and the fisherman with them much the same. Zeltiva, divided as it was by the docks and the university, still had an underbelly just like most other cities and though not thriving like it may have been in Sunberth it did exist. Faylon wouldn’t have given it a second thought before, he’d never join up with those dogs, but these were different times and the man now saw the importance of making those difficult decisions.]

[Watching from behind a stack of crates Faylon was casing a warehouse he’d been watching for several nights now. The Merchant who owned it was new to Zeltiva and hadn’t been doing especially well from what Faylon had observed. He’d likely arrived near the start of the season same as Faylon with his own dreams of starting a business but was quickly learning that the Warehouse business was rough and that your competition wouldn’t hesitate to muscle you out if you weren’t careful. The Merchant had several Guards, at least four from what Faylon had been able to count these last few nights, and he was sleeping inside the warehouse it seemed like. Maybe he had invested all his coin on the building and been left without a house or similar dwelling.]

[Peering from behind the crates Faylon would watch the entrance of the warehouse and like clockwork the Merchant arrived just before the 22nd Bell marking the time. He went inside the Warehouse and disappeared. Faylon was waiting though. Watching the Guards, two of them outside and the others unseen. As he focused on the Guards, both armed with Spears, he saw his breath too and uttered a small curse at how damn cold it was out here. Another thing Faylon had learned and was waiting for now was that the Merchant liked a whore two every few nights and he was past due now that’s why he was waiting.]

[Disappearing back behind the crates Faylon would adjust his armor. Studded Leather that wasn’t in the best condition anymore but could still stand up to a bit of punishment. He ensured everything was in order all of the straps and buckles. Everything needed to be tight and well fitted. Once he’d given the armor the once over he relaxed momentarily, steadying his breathing, and closing his eyes so that he could focus his mind on everything that needed to happen. Everything that he needed to convince himself needed to happen anyways. Nodding his head, eyes still closed he found a place kept safe in his mind and thought of nothing else but the assurance it provided, then he heard what he had been waiting for and looked back around the crates.]

[The Whore, a young thing with dark red hair and ample curves, was walking up to the Guards at the door who let her inside. One of the Guards followed too meaning only one was left out in front of the warehouse. It was almost time.]

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 19th, 2012, 12:05 am

[Waiting behind the stack of crates Faylon wouldn’t do anything until he was sure that Merchant was acquainting himself with the Whore who’d just been escorted in. That meant Faylon was waiting several chimes. Watching from around the crates Faylon saw that there was still only one Guard watching the entrance of the warehouse which was good. Things might not work as well if there were two of them and he still wasn’t completely sure this was going to be effective but there was no time for doubt or turning back now. The Bonesnapper wasn’t going anywhere so it was up to Faylon to move. He didn’t want to be sleeping in an alley the rest of his life.]

[Deciding it was time after a silent count Faylon looked at his hands which were shaking and steadied them after a few more breaths before climbing onto his feet. Moving around the stack of crates with his right hand resting on the hilt of his Longsword he saw the Guard looking at him from the distance but made as though he had been travelling the docks. It wasn’t until Faylon got closer that he made eyes at the man as though he recognized him and approached, cautiously despite how his demeanour might appear, exclaiming as he neared...”I thought this was the place!”...though that seemed to put the Guard on alert as his hand tightened around the spear.]

[Noticing this Faylon took his hand off the hilt of his sword and started off again by stating...”No need to be alarmed friend.”...though that didn’t seem to work on the Guard either as he remained tight lipped...”This is Jervais place right? Well I’m the new hire.”...hearing the name of the Merchant, which Faylon had also learned during his time watching the warehouse, seemed to set the Guard more at ease though he didn’t loosen his hold on his spear. “What don’t tell me he hasn’t mentioned me!?”...Faylon would start by saying only to receive the answer that...”No he hasn’t.”...before he shook his head and went on...”Now look I was told to come here before the 23rd bell tonight and that Jervais would explain everything to the rest of you.”...to which he received an unimpressed...”Well he didn’t. You should comeback later.”...this wasn’t working out as well as Faylon had hoped so it was time to change his tactics just a bit.]

[Undeterred despite how poorly this was going Faylon would smile amiable and tell the man...”Listen why don’t you just let me inside. Jervais is here now right?”...maybe it was his voice or the way he was looking at the Guard but suddenly Faylon started to become a little more persuasive, his words carrying more weight, as he went on...”Look if Jervais is here I can wait for him. There’s no harm in at least letting me inside.”...and the Guard seemed convinced. This was Hypnosis at its finest, or at least as fine as Faylon could make it, he was putting a bit to much of himself into though and while the reaction to his attempt had succeeded Faylon could feel the cost overcoming him already...”Follow me. I can’t believe Jervais is hiring another one. Bastard is behind on paying us.”...Faylon shrugged as though he knew nothing after hearing what the Guard said and could taste the copper of blood in his mouth. Overgiving was the price to pay when you put a bit too much of yourself into your magic like Faylon had done now and the taste of blood in his mouth was just a mild price to pay. Faylon was lucky in a way.]

[Leading him inside Faylon would follow behind the Guard who quickly moved back after saying...”You can see the others at the table.”...and then returning to his post outside. Offering a...”Thanks.”...Faylon would pass through the entrance of the warehouse where he saw that it was largely empty as expected save for a few crates and a table where three men sat playing a game of dice rolled over the table. They all noticed Faylon almost immediately but with a smile on his face he’d say...”Don’t get up boys. I’m only here to wait for Jervais.”...which seemed to loosen them up a little bit. Before Faylon knew it a fourth chair was being pushed out from the table where he could take a seat as well.]

[Taking a seat at the table Faylon would produce a few mizas to add to the pot and before long he was like the best of friends with all of these men. Gambling made everyone your friend.]

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 19th, 2012, 1:02 am

[Overgiving never went away easily. At the table with the other three men Faylon could taste the copper in his mouth growing despite the fact he’d rolled the twice two rounds now and hadn’t used his magic since. Despite that awful taste he kept socializing with the others occasionally though knowing one another more than them Faylon was left out of the bulk of the conversations. Faylon wasn’t doing to good with the dice either and had to buy in a second time already but he didn’t mind it was all part of the game he was playing. Losing but also bidding his time while the Merchant, Jervais, enjoyed the pleasures of his whore Faylon had quite at bit of time on his hands.]

[It wasn’t the Merchant Faylon waiting for though it was the bottle that kept passing itself around the table and changing hands, occasionally finding his own for sake of appearances, as the Guards plied themselves with liquor. With the rate of play the bottle was empty soon and the Guards were at least half drunk. Now was the right time and Faylon, standing from the table, would make the excuse...”I need to take a piss.”...but something was wrong the way the eyes of the other men looked at him and he had to wonder what was going on. “What’s wrong with your petching mouth?”...one of the men finally asked and then Faylon felt it, the blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, wiping his lips with the back of his hand he’d see the thick black blood.]

[Now or never the thought raced through his mind. Shrugging both of his shoulders Faylon only answered...”Well things had to catch up sooner or later. Its been nice.”...which garnered him more than a few confused looks. With one hand on the hilt of his Longsword though Faylon answered all questions when he pulled the sword free of its scabbard and raised it high over his head. When the Guard who had been talking realizing what was happening the blade was already coming down and splitting into his chest above the shoulder with a spray of blood. One man was dead in the blink of an eye. The other Guards were on their feet by the time the blow had fallen and Faylon was looking in their direction with his next move already coming to mind.]

[Grabbing the chair he had been sitting in Faylon flung it at both of the Guards who were now on their feet catching one of them in the chest and causing the other to move aside. “Petch! Shyke! You bastard!”...came the cries some of them from Faylon and others from the Guards, the commotion surely having alerted the Merchant, as a battle burst out between all those present. Pulling his Longsword free of the dead man Faylon would rush the Guard who had dodged his chair just as he drew his own steel. Crashing together the sword made sweet music with one another as the blades crossed before Faylon slid one hand from the hilt of his weapon and reached around to pop his opponent right in the mouth causing the man to stumble away.]

[Next Faylon was turning towards the man who had been hit by the chair. Rushing that man, who was now recovered and reaching for his own weapon, Faylon would swing the Longsword and watch as a wave of blood was sent flying in all directions. The Longsword didn’t catch the man in the neck like Faylon wanted but it did chop into his face on one side and sever his jaw quite cleanly. Likely the shock to his system is what killed him but it wasn’t pretty either way. That was two dead Guards and one left.]

[Wait there were four of them.]

[Sometimes in the heat of battle you forgot how many men you were fighting which is why as Faylon looked to the side he saw a spear coming for him and with no time to deflect it he could only grin and bare it. The Spear stabbed into his left shoulder and caused the man to howl loudly...”SHYKE!!!”...Faylon had let his voice call out before falling backwards as the blade of the spear dislodged itself. On his back Faylon already knew this wasn’t going well but it was too late to turn back now. Looking up he saw the Guard with the spear hovering over him and readying another blow with the weapon that was surely meant to kill.]

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 19th, 2012, 1:39 am

[Down on his back. Looking up at the man as he braced to drive the spear into him Faylon thought he might have seen his own death approaching but then he pushed past the pain of his wound and growled loudly. The Longsword, still gripped in his right hand, swung to the side catching the spear and deflecting it just enough the it planted into the floor of the warehouse beside Faylon who realized that he must have gotten lucky. “Dira you bitch! I’m not dead yet.”...he’d have said through gritted teeth while lifting a leg and kicking the Guard, still standing over him, in the gut.]

[Listening to the satisfying sound of air leaving the lungs of the man as he was bent over Faylon would act fast and bring his Longsword back across to his right. Using the pommel as he did this he’d drive it hard against the side of the Guards jaw and cause him to spit teeth before falling aside. Victory was short lived though as Faylon was climbing back to his feet and felt another sting of pain when the sword of the second, still living, Guard caught him across the back. The Studded Leather did its part in absorbing much of the blow, saving Faylons life, but not enough that it didn’t slice through just a bit and draw some blood.]

[Twisting, pivoting on his feet, Faylon had spun around to face his attacker after the bite of pain shot through him. Longsword met what was revealed to be a Gladius, a short blade resembling a Short Sword and best for stabbing, and the two swords did battle. Attacking and blocking Faylon was the least skilled of the two men and his wounds only served to help his opponent drive him backwards. It was no use prolonging a battle he had no hope to win. Disengaging Faylon circled away from the man, using the table they had all been playing cards on as a barrier to his advantage before hearing...”GODS! What in the name of Laviku!”...behind him and turning his head to see the Merchant standing there and watching all of this only half clothed from his prior activities. The Whore was nowhere to be seen.]

[Bad idea in looking away though. The momentary distraction was all Faylons opponent needed to start coming around the table. The other Guard was still down on hands and knees holding his mouth which was now missing several teeth scattered across the warehouse floor. Lifting his Longsword just in time to cross steel with Gladius Faylon had enough of this go around and raising his foot he’d step down hard on the man’s foot with his heel. Pushing back as the Guard cried out Faylon would thrust him backwards while keeping his foot planted down on his and eventually use the leverage to unseat and throw him onto his back. With steel still locked as he went down Faylon had pressed his weight into him hoping to keep the blades together.]

[There was silence then and Faylon saw the Guard jerking on the ground where the weight of Faylon had driven the mans sword backwards as well until it bit into his chest. The Guard wasn’t dead yet but rising off his body Faylon would lift his boot and set it on the mans arm before pushing down and driving the sword further into him. It sounded quite sickening but it was over quickly and another man was dead. Only one Guard was left now and then on to the Merchant. Where was Jervais anyways? Taking a quick look around Faylon couldn’t see him.]

[Walking towards the last Guard who was righting himself saw the man reaching for his spear again. With a raise of his foot Faylon would plant it down on the wooden shaft, pinning the spear against the ground, and Longsword raising high he’d drive it down into the mans stomach as he looked up until it came out the other side in a bloody mess. Gurgling the man was dead before he had much of a fighting chance the second time but bleeding from his shoulder and the shallow wound over his back Faylon had started to become somewhat lightheaded. All this needed to be over soon.]

[Before he went looking for Jervais he’d take the bottle the Guards had been drinking from off the table. Longsword set down beside it so that he could use his right hand and tipping the bottle back he’d take a hard pull before wandering off to find the Merchant. Tossing the bottle onto the floor behind him and collecting his Longsword again as he moved off. Alcohol would numb the pain.]

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 19th, 2012, 2:27 am

[There weren’t many places to hide in this small warehouse which meant that finding Jervais should have been easy but someone the little coward was evading detection. Looking from side to side with a turn of his head Faylon approached some crates that were piled near one another. Inspecting them he walked in a slow circle but couldn’t find anything. Leaving those behind he saw what looked like a small backroom and went towards it. The Merchant must have kept the room as his quarters, and office, was the first thing that went through Faylons mind but there was no telling at this point and he wouldn’t rule out something else being inside the room until he’d seen it for himself.]

[Opening the door to the room Faylon would look inside only to find what appeared to be a desk with chair and some papers, a small bookshelf with books lining its shelves and a straw bed occupied by the red haired whore that he’d seen entering the warehouse before all this began. She looked up at Faylon with fear in her eyes. Pressing his hand to his mouth though so that she knew to be quiet the woman would nod to him knowing that he might yet decide to spare her life. Faylon didn’t have time to think about it though because less than a breath later and he was struck from behind and thrown onto his stomach into the room. Dropping the Longsword as he fell Faylon would only hear it skid across the floor and underneath the bed while Jervais stood over him.]

[Wondering what he’d been hit with as a dull throb shot through his head Faylon rolled onto his back to see Jervais standing over him with a broken wooden board in his hands. “Who sent you? I don’t have the money I owe yet but I will.”...Jervais began by saying, clearly thinking that Faylon was someone else, and Faylon tried not to look like he had no idea what the Merchant was talking about so that he could play all of this to his advantage. Groaning Faylon would stay on his back and tell him...”It’s too late for that Jervais. You were warned. Now we want the Warehouse.”...that might not have been the wisest thing to say to the man though as he clearly became infuriated by the idea and responded...”What!? No! It’s all I own.” Lifting his hand Faylon stopped Jervais from saying anything else while slowly getting back to his feet and using the man’s hesitance against him while going on to tell him...”You don’t have many choices here Jervais.”...but that only caused the Merchant to go a little wild eyed and shout... ”Sure I do. I can kill you right now!” Well here’s for knowing how to talk.]

[Evading Jervais’s attack wasn’t that difficult; Faylon was clearly the superior fighter. As the Merchant came forward swinging the wood in his hands Faylon would move backwards, light on his feet, and let the attack swing past him before stepping in again. Even with only one strong arm Faylons punches still carried power. Popping out a jab that smashed into the face of the Merchant he would send Jervais stumbling backwards. Next Faylon followed by popping out a few more jabs as he kept his opponent on the defensive and pretty soon the wood fell out of Jervais hands. Both men took a minute to look at the other. Faylon bloodied with a wound to the shoulder and back. Jervais now sporting a mouse underneath his left eye with a bit of blood trickling from his nose.]

[Neither man was entertaining any thoughts that both of them could walk away from this now which is why when Jervais finally attacked he came in swinging wildly but with little technique. Bobbing his head from side to side Faylon managed to avoid most of the blows but was clipped by a few as well seeing as how his left arm was virtually useless at this point. Leaning to the side as one punch skimmed his head Faylon would unload a powerful liver shot to Jervais that stunned the man and caused him to go frigid. It gave Faylon enough time to follow with an uppercut meant to put Jervais on his back. The Merchants head went backwards and he was on the ground shortly thereafter.]

[Allowing himself a moment to breath Faylon would move around to stand over Jervais. Looking down at the Merchant now bloody faced all he’d have said was...”Nice doing business with you.”...before raising his foot and hammering the heel down onto the man’s neck. There was a snap and the sound of gurgling as Jervais struggled to breath with the foot pressing down into his throat and then nothing. The Merchant died and that was that. Turning his head back towards the office Faylon marched towards it expecting that the Whore was still in bed.]

by **Faylon Kwanda** on January 19th, 2012, 3:08 am

[Eyes surveyed the interior of the small room as Faylon entered once again. The Whore, once on the bed afraid, was now ass up on her knees reaching under the bed for the Longsword that had slid underneath. Without making a sound Faylon watched before moving over and kicking her in the ass causing her to raise her head sharply and turn to look at him while falling backwards. All Faylon could manage to do was roll his eyes while he moved over to the straw bed and took a seat.]

[Once he was sitting comfortably he’d look at her and say...”Your life depends on your skill with a needle.”...which conveyed easily what he wanted her to do. The Whore managed to reply...”I know where I can find one.”...before turning and rummaging through the room until she came up with some thread as well. Not the best place to be stitched up but it would have to do.]

[Much of what happened next was a blur in the mind of Faylon. The wound was cleaned with water. Faylon remembered the Whore pouring it on him and helping to wash the blood away. The Armor he was wearing was removed and placed on the foot of the bed. Likewise the wound to his back was also cleaned with water then. Even if the care wasn’t the best it would have to do as no one wanted their wounds to get infected which was a very real possibility.]

[Laying back on the bed next Faylon, watching as the Whore produced a needle and thread, would reach up quickly and wrap his fingers around her throat. Tightening his grasp so that she knew he was serious he’d have stated...”If I think you’ve done me wrong you’ll know because my hand will crush your neck.”...then he went silent and let her work. Loosening his fingers around her neck but keeping his hand placed over her throat so that he could squeeze if necessary Faylon would take every possible precaution to ensure he didn’t share the fate of the men he had just killed.]

[The Whore wasn’t that good with a needle and thread. Many times during the actual procedure Faylon was left wincing, sometimes even hissing, from the pain as she sewed him up. The stitches she made were uneven but they would hold for now until the wound started to seal itself and by then they would no longer be a concern for Faylon. Until the wound was ready though the stitches could bust open and force Faylon to seek out further medical attention, something he wanted to avoid at all costs as it would only draw interest to him and how he received the wounds, he’d need to play it fairly safe until then.]

[During the procedure Faylon actually almost passed out once but another sting of the needle forced him awake once more. Lifting his head and tightening his hand over the throat of the Whore after it’d almost fallen away he’d watch as she leaned closer to bite the thread off with her teeth and then tie it securely. Only the wound to his shoulder was done the one across his back being shallow enough to not need it even though a small scar would likely form in the onset of healing. “Please don’t...”...the Whore had begun to say when she finished causing Faylon to look at her and reply...”Don’t what? Leave and forget about this place.”...then he released her and watched as she gathered her clothing and rushed out of the room. Using the elbow of his right arm, the uninjured one, to support himself Faylon would make sure she wasn’t bound to return and laying back on the straw bed began to drift off.]

[Sleeping for a bell or two Faylon awoke with a start. Bad dreams again. Rubbing his face he muttered...”Petch. You too Nysel.”...apparently he had a curse for all of the Gods but sitting up in the bed Faylon was already forgetting about all of that. Shaking his head, blinking his eyes to clear them, he’d slide out of the bed and reach underneath it until his sword was in his hand again and pulling the Longsword into the open it’d find a home in his scabbard once more. Standing straight Faylon would leave the small room and venture out into the warehouse again.]

[All the bodies were still in place. Moving towards the entrance Faylon would close it to detour unwanted company. Turning back towards the dead then he had quite the conundrum but never one to shy away from problem he’d have found his solution soon afterwards. Investigating one of the crates Faylon would pry it open painstakingly and then drag the bodies over so that he could store them inside. Empty crates were useful after all. Dragging and storing the bodies in one of the old crates was the last thing he did for the night. Almost.]

[Next morning any sign that the warehouse belonged to Jervais was missing. It was as though the signs had been taken down. Anyone inquiring about the Merchant would be told he left in the middle of the night. Maybe he had wanted to elude the debtors he had mentioned to Faylon in the midst of their fighting. People who came calling were met, at least for today, by a new man though his face bearded and weathered from the Bonesnapper winds of Zeltiva and he would inform them politely that he was the new owner of the warehouse. “Bronn is the name. What can I do to help you?”...was the greeting most of the people who met him would receive. No one knew his real name anyways.]

by **Paragon** on January 20th, 2012, 10:25 pm

Faylon :

Great solo - as always, I loved the fight scenes. You write them well. I hope everything above is self explanatory. As for the warehouse, I don't want to give you an answer until I've checked with someone. I'll send you a PM once I have a concrete answer - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.