32nd Day of Winter, 514
The city-wide fear had presented Jad with the best scenario for the retribution he'd been delaying. It bothered his sensibilities somewhat that he saw the recent disaster as having any sort of upside. But if he could pull some good out of the situation, why should anyone begrudge it? It was not as if he was responsible for the obelisk's awakening, or the destruction which had resulted.
There were two different aspects of his motivation that he felt offset the sense that he could be said to be "exploiting" this disaster for his own benefit. For one thing, he himself was not benefiting in any way. Truth be told, there was still a good chance that he'd suffer or die for the foolishness he was planning. It was all for Black's sake that he was thinking of going back to have justice make a surprise visit upon the gang that had maimed her hand.
He knew that her sense of security had taken a dive since the attack. He had only held off up until now because the pain in her eyes when she thought of him going off half-cocked on a mission of payback had always overcome his rage. He couldn't stand to think of causing her any more pain from the burning they had done to her.
But his own feelings could no longer be dismissed. He could hardly sleep at night anymore for the dreams of punishment he yearned to deliver upon those thugs. He knew who they were and where they could be found. It was no small thing that the reason they'd come after her was to send them both a message. He'd had an inadvertent run-in with them, and she'd come to his aid.
He had not been looking for trouble. He had only been checking addresses to find his family for the first time. He had not been looking for trouble, but they had squared off on him with a mugging in mind. He had warned them that he would resist. They had laughed and drawn weapons. He had not been looking for trouble, but at four-to-one odds, he'd pulled no punches or refrained from any tactics. He had not been looking for trouble, but they had insisted on it, and Black had come to his aid. As a result, they had cornered her in an alley later and deeply branded her hand with an ugly "X".
He was looking for trouble now. He would make them wish for a mere burn, as an alternative to what he would do to them. Those that he didn't carve into grim artwork with his skirmish sword, he would Leech right down to their marrow...
So now he stood, aware that staying motionless for too long would make him conspicuous against the backdrop of rushing anxiety that permeated the citizenry. But that worked both ways. He too, could watch for others practicing such stationary watchfulness. He was not yet within the bounds of the East Street District. But he was only doorways away.
