Equal and Opposite (Solo)

[Owan Bardson]

OOCSo...ummm. Archelon said I could post this, even though Spring's over because I waited so patiently for a job. ;p
13 Spring 512 AV

Owan had been at the docks since he'd left Zeke's presence. He'd been sitting at a table outside of one of the seaside taverns and watching the Bloody Marie. He gave everyone who went up to the ship a good deal of attention before turning his eyes away. No one had matched the brief description Zeke had given him of Langsley, nor had anyone left with a package. He was toying with his dagger as he scanned the crowd, bouncing it up and down between his fingers absentmindedly. He was getting antsy. A few more bells and he'd leave and give Zeke a piece of his mind for sending him on a proverbial goose chase. His leg was bouncing unconsciously, another sign of his boredom.

His eyelids were starting to droop when a tavern wench came out of the building and dropped down in the chair next to him. He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing. He just continued watching the ship.

"You've been out here all night stranger. Lookin' for your lass?" The girl asked.

"What's it to ye?" Owan asked, never taking his eyes off of the ship. He wished the girl would shove off. He didn't have time to chat, nor did he like the concept of small talk in general. It made him uncomfortable.

"Just a friendly question. Why else'd you be watching the ships come and go with such a sad look on your ugly mug?" The girl said. She laughed at her own joke, a high tittering sound that reminded Owan of a hummingbird. He shot her a quick glance. She was pretty -much prettier than he at least- with short red hair and mischievous green eyes.

"Yer awfully pleasant aren't ye?" Owan asked.

"I guess you could say that," the girl replied, smile widening. "I'm just a naturally curious person. I like to know what's going on, and I've been staring at the back of your head all night trying to figure you out."

"I'm lookin' for someone," Owan said.

"Your lass? I knew it!" The girl said, banging her tiny fist on the table.

"I don't have a lass," Owan said simply. The girl swore under her breath. She'd been so sure! "And I don't see why it matters to ye? Ye do this to everyone in the city? Surprise yer pretty little head's still attached to the rest of ye." The girl made a face at him, sticking out her tongue and puffing up her cheeks. Owan couldn't help but crack a wry smile. She was like a child.

"I'm bored. And I do it to most people that come through. They play along though," she said, leaning back in her chair and putting her feet up on the table.

"How can ye be bored? Don't ye have work to do? I'm sure I can't be the only person at one of yer tables."

"We're pretty slow today so far. It's pretty early. Most people don't have time to sit around the tavern. Besides, one of the other girls'll take care of the other customers. Plus, I doubt the owner'll mind," the girl said, eyes glinting even more mischievously than before.

"Aye?" Owan asked.

"Aye. Name's Adelaide," the girl said, holding out her hand. Owan, after taking a quick glance at the Bloody Marie, turned to face the girl. He took her hand and pumped it up and down before the epiphany struck. Above the girl's head was a sign. On the sign was one word: Adelaide's.

"Owan," he said, trying not to let his surprise show. It made sense really. That was why she had the time to come outside and pester him.

"Well Owan. Mind telling me what you've been doing outside of my bar?" Adelaide asked, all traces of mischief gone. Owan could understand her mood. Wasn't he employed to make merchant's realize the value of protection money? Her suspicions weren't but slightly misplaced. Had The Fence asked him to shake her down then that's exactly what he'd be doing.

"Perceptive aren't ye? See that ship?" Owan asked, jerking his head toward the Bloody Marie. Adelaide nodded. "There's a man named Langsley comin' to pick a package up from that ship. I'm supposed to escort him," Owan said, lying through his teeth. He didn't know anything about Adelaide. Why would he tell her what The Fence had told him? More than likely she'd try to sell him out for a couple of Mizas. That was how Sunberth worked. Anyone would do anything for a few pieces of gold. Owan understood it. It was how he'd been raised.

"Well then. As long as you're not looking to stir up shyke in my bar you can stay here as long as you'd like," Adelaide said, standing up and brushing herself off. Owan nodded. Adelaide disappeared back into the bar, and a few moments later another serving girl came out with a tin cup full of cold water. Owan made to reach for his coin-purse but the girl shook her head. Apparently Adelaide had taken care of it. He thanked the girl and turned his eyes back to the ship. Up above, the sun shone down on the thankless streets of Sunberth. Owan loosened the laces of his cloak and drained the water from the cup in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and was sitting the cup down when he noticed the man in front of the ship.

He was standing with his arms crossed in front of the ship, leaning against a stack of crates. From where Owan was standing he could just make out the pair of daggers strapped to the man's belt. He stood and watched for a moment, wanting to make sure that it was Langsley before making his move. He didn't have long to wait. A few seconds after Owan had spotted his target a man came down from the deck of the ship with a parcel under his arm. The two exchanged a few words before the second man passed the package along. Langsley tucked the package into his shirt and turned to leave.

Owan waited and watched as Langsley walked past, feigning indifference. When the man had gotten a few steps past the bar, Owan left his table and started after him.

He tried to stay in the crowd, blending in with those around him. It was harder than he would have liked it to be. He was more at home in the forests than he was in the streets of Sunberth. It was much easier to stay hidden among the trees and undergrowth. His height made him somewhat obvious in the crowd, but the few times that Langsley turned around he didn't seem to notice.

[Owan Bardson]

Owan knew that he could have run up on Langsley and killed him in the crowd, but he decided to stay his blade for a moment. He didn't want the word getting back to Grecko that his messenger had been cut down. So he waited. He continued to follow the knife-fighter through the streets, ducking into doorways or dropping to lace his boots when the man turned around. He followed the man from the docks to the center of the city, finally turning into an alleyway filled with trash and shadows. Owan sped up, not wanting to let this opportunity to escape. He knew that Grecko's shop wasn't terribly far away, and that the alleyway would be his best chance to get rid of Langsley without creating a scene.

He stepped into the alley carefully. Langsley was nowhere to be seen. Owan cursed under his breath. The man must've noticed his pursuit. He pulled the ax off of his belt and shrugged his shield on. He took his next step slowly, trying to peer into the shadows and crevices and keep an eye on the open space in front of him at the same time. He heard something rustle and jumped backwards instinctively, narrowly avoiding the pair of knives that would've opened his windpipe. His back slammed into the wall and he found himself face-to-face with Langsley. The man's lank hair was hanging down in his face, and for a moment Owan found himself back in the Wildlands fighting the caravan guard.

"I don't appreciate strangers following me through the city," Langsley said.

"The Fence doesn't appreciate having his packages stolen," Owan said. He lashed out with his shield but Langsley hopped backwards. The lanky man dashed forward, swinging his blades in opposite directions. Owan caught one on the rim of this shield and the other on the haft of his ax. Langsley grunted and brought one of his knees up. Owan twisted his body out of the way and the two disengaged, backing up and facing one another.

"No one's stealing anythin' from that ol' shyke. Grecko bought this package fair and square," Langsley said, jumping forward. He brought both knives down hard. Owan blocked them with his shield and swung his ax, missing the lithe knife-fighter by less than an inch. Owan pushed the shield forward and sent Langsley stumbling backwards. He followed his shield with another swing of the ax. The blade bounced off of one of Langsley's knives and he found himself jerking his head backwards to avoid the other. The blade scratched a long red line across his forehead and Owan grunted as he felt the blood trickle down his face. Langsley smiled darkly.

"Not what I heard. The Fence says Grecko bought it and was too chicken-shyke to come pick it up 'imself. So he hired ye," Owan said. Langsley shrugged his shoulders. What'd it matter in the grand scheme of things? Owan respected his desire to end the conversation. The rest of their business would be done with blades. Langsley struck again, hoping to capitalize on the blood pouring down his opponent's face. Owan blocked the blades with his shield, ignoring the burning in his shoulder, and struck out with his ax. Again Langsley danced away from the blade. The gangly man was quick.

Owan lashed out with his shield, hoping to catch Langsley in the chest and send him to the ground. The tall man tried to hop backwards again and found himself slamming into the wall. The shield missed, but Owan followed it quickly with his ax. Langsley desperately tried to fend off the blow with his knives, just barely managing to turn the ax away at the last second. Owan was in a rage now. The blood in his eyes was stinging, and he could taste it trickling between his lips. He had the tall man exactly where he needed him, pinned up against the wall where his agility would be next to useless. Langsley saw that that was his plan. He tried to dart sideways, but Owan blocked his escape with his blade on one side and his shield on the other.

Langsley jabbed outward with both knives, trying to get his arms extended and plunge the blades through Owan's armor. The big man waited for a split second before jerking his shield to the side and sending the knives skittering down the alleyway. Langsley reacted quickly, slamming his forehead into Owan's face and diving to the side. He scampered to his knives, and almost had his fingers around the hilts when Owan's ax bit into his back. He didn't scream. His body stretched out and his legs kicked uncontrollably; all the while his fingers attempted to wrap themselves around his knives. Owan jerked the ax out of the man's back, lifted it above his head, and slammed it down again. The noise was sickening.

Owan wrenched his ax free from Langsley's back and dropped down to a squat. He rolled the still twitching knife-fighter over onto his mangled back and dove into his cloak. He retrieved the man's coin purse first and dropped it into his own cloak. He considered it a finder's fee. Next he found the package he had been sent to reclaim and tucked it into his shirt. He wiped the blade of his ax off on Langsley's already ruined jerkin before he moved his attention to the man's hands. On one of his fingers was a gaudy ring, sure to be easily recognizable. With quick, strong movements Owan removed his dagger and lopped the finger off. He tucked it in his pocket -grimacing as the blood stained the front of his pants- and stood.

He looked down at Langsley's rapidly cooling body for a moment. The man's mouth was open in a silent scream, and his eyes looked out into the forever that is death. Owan muttered under his breath and leaned down, pulling the man's eyelids down roughly. He deserved that much at least. He'd given a good fight, and against anyone else he may have lived to fight another day. Owan wiped the blood from his forehead and turned to leave the alley, leaving Langsley's body to stare up into the sinking sun.

He turned left out of the alley, ignoring the stares he received from the faces in the crowd. He wasn't the first bloodied combatant they'd ever seen, and he doubted he'd be the last, but it was still unnerving. It was human nature really. They loved to see someone hurt; someone they perceived as weakened, someone that they could give a story to and imagine hardships. They wanted someone to suffer more than they did. Owan would gladly bear the brunt of their glances for now. He was too absorbed in his own business to give it much though. He had to find Grecko and give the man a "talking" to.

It didn't take him too long to find Grecko's shop. He'd asked an old beggar woman with more eyes than teeth and she'd gladly given him directions. He'd been surprised at first -the people of Sunberth were rarely helpful- but had realized that he cut quite the imposing figure in the failing sunlight. Most of the blood on his face had dried, and what hadn't was still trickling down into his beard. He'd thanked the woman with a grunt and continued on to a rundown building with a decrepit sign hanging over the door. He pushed the door open slowly, grimacing at the creak, and stepped into the dim shop.

The dust in the air was enough to make him cough, and the assorted shelves of oddities made it even harder to see than it was to begin with. He could make out a counter in the low light, and behind it he could see the outline of a skinny man. The skinny figure lifted his head and sneered.

"We're closed for the day."

Owan ignored the man. He made his way through the narrow aisles until he was standing at the counter.

"I said we're closed. You deaf or just stupid?" The little man asked. Owan could smell the stench of his breath from across the counter, like a sewer full of rotten cheeses and stale whores. "I'm waiting for someone, so I suggest you take your big dumb arse away from my shop."

"Langsley's dead Grecko," Owan said simply. Grecko twisted up his face, lines all rushing together in a semblance of a smile. He wheezed out a sick sounding laugh.

"Who's put you up to this? Was it that bastard Langsley? He's always doing shyke like this. I dunno why I hired hi-"

Grecko choked as Owan produced Langsley's finger and dropped it on the counter. Before the little man could say another word, Owan had reached across the counter and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He pulled him forward easily and slammed his head down. Grecko moaned, snapping out of his catatonic fear long enough to begin to beg for mercy. Owan ignored him. He just slammed the man's head down a second time, cracking teeth and shattering the man's oft-broken nose. He put his free hand on the man's back and lifted him up, tossing him to the floor on his side of the counter. He dropped down with his knees on the shopkeeper's arms and yanked his dagger from his belt. Grecko howled for someone to help him, but Owan knew no help was coming. Had Grecko had security of any kind they would have been out by now. Owan imagined Langsley was the man's only defense.

Grecko squirmed and jerked, trying to get out from under the big man's frame but Owan wouldn't allow it. He put his left hand on the man's crinkled face and peeled one of his eyes open with his thumb and forefinger. Grecko's screams intensified as Owan steered his knife toward the man's face. He stopped just short of the man's rolling eye.

"The Fence sends his regards. Ye ever try and undercut 'im again and I'll be back," Owan said. Grecko yelped that he understood and that he was sorry and that he'd never do it again and breathed a sigh of relief as Owan moved the knife away from his quivering eye. With a quick movement and a bark of laughter, Owan plunged the knife into Grecko's eye, yanking it back out with the glistening orb still attached. Grecko shuddered and screamed and Owan stood, pulling the eye from his blade and shoving it into his pocket. He reclaimed Langsley's finger and left the shop, leaving Grecko howling on the floor.

A bell and a half later he'd given The Fence his package, as well as the two grisly trophies. The man had thanked him and paid him the promised bonus, and Owan had left, shaking the man's hand and heading back to Adelaide's. Perhaps he'd find some company there.

[Colombina]

The XP Wand Is Waved! A nice gritty little thread. I liked the dialogue at the beginning with Adelaide. One note, be careful about creating new locales and NPCs (I didn't see Adelaide's on the link list, but I might have missed it). Otherwise everyone makes a seedy tavern and we have 20 in a square mile . You have a good talent for atmosphere and dialect. You also seem to understand your character is a straightforward kind of guy and you aren't trying to dress him up too much. I also appreciate how you can effectively describe an NPC in a line or two. (More eyes than teeth, etc.) I liked the fight with Langsley because it had an element of quid pro quo. Hurting your character and putting them in danger is a good way to keep a reader interested. Try to say "no" to your character more often than "yes". The Grecko bit at the end didn't have any give and take so it felt a bit more gratuitous. Thinking of effective threats can be devilish fun. This is one of my favorite elaborate threats of all time. Warning: bad language and the pertinent part starts about 1:15. What makes this a great ,slightly over the top scene? Creative dialogue and the fact the winner is tottering a bit. He didn't even get what he wanted, but you understand better what kind of man he is. If you have any questions about your grade, feel free to contact me. Owan's Loot 2 XP Axe 2 XP shield 2 XP Stealth 1 XP Intimidation 1 XP brawling 1 XP Dagger Lore of Basic Defenses against a dagger Colombina is pleased.