To the Tavern! (Darik)

[Zandelia]

Fall 13, AV 511 The tent was cold and damp, the dank moisture from the excessive flooding over a week ago still clinging to the structures of transitory nature around her own, infecting their walls with a wetness that was almost tangible to the skin. Poorer conditions did not immediately stick out in Zandelia’s memory as she wrapped her flimsy cloak tightly about herself as she had done for the last few evenings as the chill set in. She had few resources to waste upon building a fire and she was not entirely sure one would even take to the small hearth present in her quarters at any rate. No, instead she merely sat on her all but sodden bedrolls, cloak and blanket encircling her form, and tried to read missives by the failing candlelight. “Can’t see a bloody thing” she muttered after a while, throwing the papers upon the table contemptuously and pinching the bridge of her nose for a few seconds before rubbing the heels of her palms around her eye sockets. She flicked her eye to the tightly shuttered tent flap that passed for a door and found, not much to her surprise, that not even a dim light slunk through the gaps there. It was well into the evening, and perhaps even getting towards midnight. It was time to stop her fruitless search, she reasoned. Ever since that day in the Slavers Markets she had tried to further research the Nights Eyes, but to little or no avail. What knowledge there was was scant and invariably exactly the same as what others knew – which was next to nothing. I’m beginning to suspect they’re all just ghosts she thought to herself morosely. It was a shame really, seeing as if she had been able to find more she could have made more money selling it. “I need a drink, and by the powers I’m going to have one” she stated to the world in general as she levered herself out of her ensconced position and threw the blanket onto the pallet she called a bed. It was a crumpled heap now, much like her life she noticed. As she exited her humble abode she made sure the 'door' was a secure as it could be, which was not much but was something at the very least. She knew none would find where she kept her mizas, cunningly hidden as they were in a place of her own fashioning. She never took her money to the streets as a rule, though she had a few silvers and coppers in her possession for The Pig’s Head Tavern and the drinks there. Still, it was not enough for most thieves to bother with when far fatter targets were easier prey for them. Though they might just do you over for the sheer fun of it in some places she thought as she pulled her cloak tighter and set off into the dark streets. She kept her wits very much about her as she went, trying to make as little noise as possible and straining for any of the telltale signs of pursuit or imminent danger. Still, in Sunberth you never did know when something awful might stalk from the darkness.

[Darik]

Darik was the happiest person in all of Sunberth. Why? He was rich. Not like Robern rich, but he had a huge abundance of money. So he shouldn’t be looking out for more things to steal. But he did anyways, they say the rich can only get richer! And you know it’s completely true. When you have money, it generates so much faster, The problem was choosing a suitable target. Most were too big and Darik couldn’t hurt them. The ones Darik could overpower NEVER had any money. Sunberth is backwards in many ways, but it isn’t in that sense. Still, he was lucky when he saw a maiden. She had a cloak rapped tightly around her but he could still see her eyes. One was a bright green and the other was milky white. The perfect person, she looked like a veteran of some kind of war. People like her must posses money. He predicted her movements the best he could. It looked like she was going to head right by him. It was going to be easy, if his plan worked. He hid in an alleyway to her right. As she passed she fell backwards. Why did she suddenly fall down? At the last second, a chair was held up in front of her. When she was out for the count, Darik dropped the chair. She looked temporarily dazed, so he had enough time to get his profit. He searched and to his disgust he found only petty silvers. He knew a woman like her had to have something more. The money must be hidden elsewhere, a place were only the woman knew. That presented quite a big problem for Darik. Darik was a problem solver though. He made a plan and carried it out. Things always go wrong with his plans though. First off he couldn’t find rope to tie her up in rope. Then when he tried to lift her, he fell over probably knocking her out for a longer amount of time. So he um… dragged her through the alley. He didn’t pull her for long, only about one hundred yards. He dragged her through one of the building and found it was empty. When she was in it he dumped her on the ground and fell down himself. Dam she was heavy. On the ground he crab walked towards the wall with the door on it. He was in a tactical position, he was by the door and she was unconscious opposite of him. He didn’t think she would wake up just yet, but you never know, she could. He started to finger with his knife waiting for her to wake up. Why didn’t he tie her up? Because if you’re nice they are much more likely to let the information slip. Then you slit their throat.

[Zandelia]

One of the first sensations to greet Zandelia’s opening eye was one of intense pain, accompanied swiftly by both a dull, throbbing ache that seemed to emanate from behind her eye sockets and the sensation that her back had been forced across a heap of pebbles. She could not stop a small groan of discomfort from echoing out of her throat as she levered herself up slowly into an awkward sitting position, her left hand holding the back of her head where she was sure she could feel a bruised lump forming rapidly. It took a few moments to put everything together as she looked at her palm to check there was no bleeding from her head, her vision growing slowly to encompass the dingy room she had awoken in. I was walking, and then….Oh, bloody hell. Why did I even come out tonight? she thought to herself bitterly as she tried to gain a standing position before falling back onto her bruised rump in the dirt. “Not once can I remember having a hangover without having a drink, so I bloody well know someone did this to me and whoever it is better kill me or I will make their live a living hell” she swore, not yet noticing the other presence in the room. She pet her pockets and found her silvers to be gone, though nothing else seemed to have been taken as of yet. Whomever had waylaid her must have been in a hurry, she reasoned, as they had not even noticed she held a small but serviceable dagger in her right boot – an old heirloom of a family now long dead. Still, they were either amateur, in a rush or didn’t care she was armed. If it’s an amateur then at least I have a chance. If it’s anything else…well they can look forwards to losing some things before they kill me off for good she vowed to herself as she finally gained her feet, teetering slightly and being forced to fumble to the wall in the dim light for support. It was as she stumbled forwards and brought her back to rest against the wall for firm support that she finally noticed the man whom, presumably, had taken her to her present location. She took a few seconds to take him in as she gathered what she could of her energies and growled at him gruffly. “If you mean to kill me then I won’t make it easy for you,” she stated by way of fact, knowing that the best way to survive was to buy time when possible, “and the fact that I’m still alive tells me you want something of me or that I’m useful in some way. So how about you tell me why you nearly broke my damned skull and we’ll take it from there” she finished, a slight slither of dominance in the last bits of her speech designed to try and put her captor off balance – if that were indeed possible.

[Darik]

The girl started to wake. She seemed terrible, and rightly so. Darik had tried to make her as disorientated as possible. So it was no surprise she seemed unable to get her footing. Everything was going in Darik’s favor so far. She was angry, disorientated, and stupid. All three of them cause the person in question to make mistakes. And who’s the person in question? The woman Darik was trying to scam. ”Here’s your blasted slivers back.” He spoke viciously, bringing the attention to him when she was still sitting down. He threw the silvers at her, causing them to bounce off of every possible service. It made these annoying ringing sounds for about five seconds but they soon faded into the distance. Wait, why did Darik throw silvers, when they are still money? Because he had learned that he was a man of vast quantities and silver just weren’t vast enough for him. It’s either gold rimmed mizas or nothing. He saw her rise and did likewise. He was a gentleman, he would address her on her level. As he rose he decided to put himself in a “cool position.” He put all the weight on his leg on the ground as the other one made a triangle with his body and the wall. Yep, he was being gangsta. If we combine those two definitions we will get a gangster gentleman. How epic is that? Dam, Darik is good. “I don’t want to kill you, that is a waste a human life. And I don’t waste human life.” He seriously didn’t, everything had a purpose. ”I need something that only you posses.” He saw the calculation in her eyes, she had obviously been in situation like this before. “No not your pride.” For some reason that’s what women assumed when Darik wanted something. Are they really that bad of judges? “But your money.” “And frankly I can wait all day.” He gave a big grin to her to show he was serious. “Now you could not tell me, but they always tell me eventually. So let’s not waste both of our time and just give your friendly neighborhood thief your exact location of your money. Else this could get… uncivilized.”

[Zandelia]

Zandelia let a laugh bubble up from within her at the man’s words, listening to the pontificating being one of the more amusing things she had been forced to listen to in a long while. She couldn’t help but be hit by the hilarity of the situation, nor could she help the fact that it manifested in such an inappropriate way. She wouldn’t have been entirely surprised at that moment if he had thought her to be insane – she was not entirely sure she wasn’t herself at that point. Her laughs receded into deep, rich chuckles and finally into a series of quieter giggles until her mirth had fully run its course within her. It was then that she looked at the man again, considering him in his entirety. What a situation! No job, little money and some of that thrown back at me in this room! I’m trapped with a boy who leans against walls, starts by saying he doesn’t want to kill me and demands I tell him where my money is even though what little I have is probably not worth the effort. What goddess has warped my life into a series of pointless demonstrations? she wondered to herself privately as she continued to look at him, her senses returning ever so slowly – accompanied with a great deal of pain. “My money is stuffed up my arse and as such is hard to get to boy,” she told him brazenly, attempting to incite a little anger and pride from him, things which made people make errors, “and you can try and get it if you want, but less messier ways of obtaining wealth might be more your forte” she finished with another little chuckle and a grim smile for him. She wasn’t about to just give him the money she had, not when he would probably stab her in the back afterwards at any rate. This was Sunberth after all, where honour and truth were merely false icons for those who were naive. Besides, she knew how to hold her own without a weapon, and that was without even considering the use of her own knife against her opponent. Killing was always too messy, but would be a viable option if it came to it. Still, if he belonged to a faction it would be suicide to not try to disable him instead and then escape. “Civilization is dictated by the masses, and in Sunberth there’s no such thing. Only scum, like you. So try and get the information out of me and we’ll see what happens this night. Or you can wait all day should you wish, either suits me,” she stated simply, trying to keep him talking by antagonizing him. She was fairly sure he would try another round of verbal reasoning before he would act upon any threats. He didn’t outwardly seem to be mercenary in type. Still, if he comes for me I’ll pull the damned knife. That should make him stop in his tracks and ease off a little to consider the situation further she told herself firmly. Time, it all came down to time in the end. The more she could buy the better were her chances. It always, one way or another, came down to time.

[Darik]

I am back people! I have been locked in a cage for far too long while my apprentice wrote this story so…, for a lack of a better word I will just say: unsuccessfully. I am now sipping on his blood as I finish recording these chronicles of Darik. Now back to the story of Darik and the women he slayed. Wait, am I getting ahead of myself? Ohh yes, we were at this part. The women, a knave of some kind, was having a seizure in front of Darik. Her whole body rumbled with tremors as she tried to gain control. It was pitiful, she tried so hard but she still failed utterly. Soon though her attack resided and her odd croaking sounds faded into the distance. She seemed to regain composure quiet fast considering her brain just had a spasm. This only proves women are an entirely different species from men. She even decided to give him a witty retort. How foolish of her. She didn’t realize that Darik was the junior champion of smart-alecky remarks. ”Very well, I will just have to cut open that part and keep you alive at the same time.” Darik gave a devilish grin that he learned from a girl, whose name started with a V but Darik forgot the rest, had taught him how to do. It was quite convincing, Darik had learned from a master after all. Then again, it wasn’t exactly “smart-alexy” per say but sometimes intimidation is the better option. Darik was about to start his integration when the door flew open. Darik barely avoided getting bonked on the head like Zan. A man, about in his late thirties, stumbled in through the door. His odor was of one of the strongest liquor, he had obviously been drinking tonight. He had a beard that was matted in clumps on his otherwise bald face. Yes, he had no hair or eyebrows. He could be considered handsome….only if you were blind. No eyebrows really ruin an appearance. While the man himself was of no real importance what he carried was. A glass mug that had pieces missing from its round top. It wouldn’t usually be a problem, but these were sharp. Ohh ya, blood was rolling down from the edges, tainting the glass. Either he had tried to shave and cut himself or he had just killed a man. Most likely option two, just look at the man’s beard. Wait you can’t see the image? I forgot, you can’t see any images in your primitive time. Your loss. As the man entered, Darik politely closed the door. Usually, another interrupting a theft was a bad thing, but this could be to his advantage. You never know what drunk people do. Especially when they are men and they are looking at a pretty woman. The drunk walked towards were Zandelia was. When he spoke the stench of alcohol was so strong, that even if the women hadn’t known he was drunk, she would now. ”Well lookey here, we got a women.” His speech was slurred and slow, possibly from the alcohol. ”But I don’t like me women!” The man started to get angry waving his beer mug in the air. ”All ye are stupid and dump and stupid. ‘N ya know what?” He reached her and pressed his head so close that their noses touched. “Ye always leave us in the end.” So he just got dumped, wonder why? It looked like the situation was calming down till he hooked his arm around her and pulled her close. “Gotcha, you’re coming with me.” His slur disappeared within an instance. Dam, he was a good actor. The whole time Darik had been slinking in the shadows. The room was perfect for observing, the walls had shadows capable of cloaking Darik and all of his loose fitting clothes. It was extremely lucky, because this man seemed dangerous. So did he interfere and help her? No, it didn’t seem like a good time to risk his life. In fact, he went to were the two walls connected and squatted there. Why not? Better be safe than sorry!

[Zandelia]

The situation became a lot less complicated but far more annoying than it had even began to approach before as the drunken sot lurched around the room and put on a display of drunken self-importance and piteous moroseness that put her in mind of all the men she had met in her life that blamed their own incompetence upon the fact that women that were categorically better than them had departed for greener pastures, and better prospects. From the way he was acting he was the lowest of the low, a man with few to no virtues and a whole bundle of vices. She was not overly surprised that whomever he ranted about had left him. Even his very sweat seemed to reek of stale ale, as if it were leaking from the pores of his skin. An alcoholic, a fool and an aggressive lecher who thinks that being a man gives him the right to lord over the women around him. He picked the wrong target indeed she thought to herself as she felt his arm twine itself around her shoulders. And then his mannerisms changed abruptly and his grip became that much stronger. She berated herself for a fool as he tried to steer her firmly towards the door, all the time seeking to entwine his grip upon her and make it that much more unbreakable. She knew that is she did not act fast she would have a much harder time of escaping the unfolding tabernacle of horror. She felt the anger rise within her chest, the inherent fear of being taken once more against her will and the stony determination to never be ruled over by another again. They forced their way up through her body, compacting and fusing into something far deadlier than they were separately. “I will NOT be taken by the likes of you!” she all but shouted at him, snarling partially as the words ripped from her throat. She smashed her head backward and to the side, colliding firmly with the bridge of his nose, a sickening crumpling sound accompanying a sticky feeling of blood spraying into the back of her head. She whipped her head forwards as his yelp of surprise echoed in the room and flicked her head back, putting her hips into the movement this time for further force, pummelling his face for the second time. The next movement happened in a flash of instinct that she doubted she could repeat if she tried without further training. She pivoted to her left, turning smoothly around to face the assailant. Her left hand gripped the wrist of the arm that had, up until a second ago, been around her shoulders. Her right hand pushed upon his shoulder as she forced him backwards and to the side, his body eventually hitting the floor with a deadening thud that splintered the floorboards there. “You picked the wrong woman, and now there’ll never be another for you, bastard!” she hissed as she knelt down, drew the dagger from her boot and stabbed downwards. Once, twice, thrice she stabbed – each time into his torso, unheeding of the ribs she twisted her wrist upon or the screams the dying man let out. “Fucking halfwit” she stated as she pulled his head up to expose his neck, his hands feebly trying to grip her dagger hand but slipping due to the blood upon his palms, and she finally ended his life with a smooth, slow slitting motion. She wiped her dagger upon his troos, cleaning it, and then stood up to face the other man in the room. She had forgotten him in her furore, but remembered him all too clearly now. “You can either fight me yourself, or you can share in the spoils of the body and walk away with freely taken goods. It’s all the same to me” she told him, keeping the dagger in her hand in case he launched an assault himself.

[Darik]

oocWow, that was intense!

The man was no match for her. He thought he was BA so he had a cocky smile on his face when she tried to resist. “That’s what all the other women said when I took them to my master.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Because right after that comment he got his nose broken. He yelped, he didn’t suspect such a sudden attack from a woman. ”Now your gonna get it wh—“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence because she smashed her head into him again. Dam, she was a professional headbutter! Then she did stuff to him. Stuff that would give little kids nightmares. She pretty much forced his body to the ground using some sort of martial technique on him. Each time she stabbed him his screams got louder. Still, he kept his pride. “I hope you have fun in hell missy, because that’s where you’re going.” Then she ended his life. So what had been Darik doing the whole time? Sneaking of course! He used the shadows to walk through the poorly lit room. It was hard to keep his cool, the things she was doing to the man was brutal. Still, he tried to keep his breath even. He partially failed though, he scream caused him to release his breath in fear. The man’s scream was a saving grace though, it blocked out the sound of his breath. Now, it seems stupid that he breathes constantly. Shouldn’t he hold his breath for really long time then let go of it? Nope, it would cause him to gasp, and gasping makes sounds. Very loud sounds that would alert the insane woman. When she was done with the man she turned to were he had been. She even spoke to him as if he was still there. Dam, he was great at camouflage. He steeped out from behind her with slow steps. Here, the fruit of his labor would be borne. He slowly withdrew his knife. When he was close enough, he touched the tip of his knife to the back of her neck. ”Don’t move.” He whispered breaking the silence. He took a step back and allowed her to whip around to face him. He did a slow clap that could have sounded mocking but it was actually sincere. “You did better than I thought.” Darik was trying to still appear in control. He didn’t want to appear unnerved by anything. “Now about the kill its yours. I only keep what I get.” Not really, he was perfectly fine with scavenging. He just needed to appear generous to her. “Now that you have passed your test, you’re free to go. Have a good day.” He gave a grin that had some sort of hidden meaning. What did it mean? Zan would find out pretty soon.

oocHave her head to a tavern.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was incredulous at the boy now, and frustrated that he had wasted her damned time in this Akajia-forsaken room, dragging her through the mud and then putting her in the position of having to murder someone whom may have enough friends to want to return her the favour if they ever found out it was Zandelia whom had butchered him. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand, squeezing hard to relieve the tension building there as she kept her dagger very much on display and ready to move if the lad even hinted at an attack upon her person. She looked at him then, her eye piercing his body, and if a look could kill then he would have been erased from existence without leaving so much as a pile of ash behind. Sunberth….you’ve got to fucking love Sunberth! she growled to herself as she shrugged to herself. “Fine,” she began in her response, “have it your way. Be the noble thief, or whatever it is you think you are. But if you so much as move toward me you’ll be like him so just keep that in mind” she finished as she began the task of looting the scene. The first thing she did was to re-acuire the silvers he had taken from, and then thrown back at, her that were now scattered around the floor. It took her a few moments, keeping her eye and attention upon the other occupant of the room as she did so, wondering why he wasn’t just leaving her to do what had to be done. She could feel him looking at her, an itching feeling in the middle of her shoulder-blades keeping her uncomfortably aware of his presence. Still, he wasn’t trying anything and so she kept searching the gloom until she had recovered all but a couple of the silvers she remembered having on her person before unconsciousness had originally taken her. “Sure you don’t want anything? Last chance?!” she asked him, as ever seeking to leave people on at least neutral terms with her. Years of dealings with unsavoury characters had left that an innately natural part of her psyche. The man gave a small shake of his head, saying nothing, and so Zandelia set about looting it herself, and for her own gain. She found a large pouch at the man’s belt and yanked it off of the corpse, belt and all, before securing it around her own waist. She had needed a belt for weeks, ever since her old one had fell to rot and the pressures of time. It was a simple thing, but then Sunberth was a world of simple things and small luxuries. She kept up her search, finding some few small other items of worth. A cup and set of dice, made out of bone she guessed from their texture, went into the new second pouch at her waist. A small knife of unknown style to her slotted into her other boot, retrieved from the boot of the corpse as it had originally been. With that done she stood up and made her way to the door, still expecting to be attacked at any moment. When she made it to the doorway she turned and placed her boot upon the wall, and placed her own knife back where it belonged. She looked at the man once more before twirling out of the door and pulling her cloak about her once again. “I definitely need a damned drink now” she told herself softly as she continued her drudge towards the Pig’ Foot Tavern once again, hoping that this time her journey would not be so rudely interrupted.

[Darik]

The women looted the corpse quite efficiently. He was surprised by its contents but he wasn’t jealous. Whether she knew it or not it was a victory for him. When she left him he set about his business. He needed to fix up the body. He didn’t know the man’s relations and he didn’t want to take any chances. It would be his hardest clean up job ever though, the girl had sure messed up the body pretty good. He could’ve made the body so disfigured no one could decipher it but a person missing leaves a lot to speculation. First was the problem of the man’s disfigured nose. The girl had sure smashed it good. Darik ripped off the man’s shirt and inspected it. Most of it was bloody but there was a few clean spots, well, clean for sackcloth. He ripped those parts in little strips and laid them far enough to the side that the blood wouldn’t reach them. He then lifted his head in the air so he could inspect the nose. It was crooked and bloody, lovely. Taking a strip, he used it to wipe away the excess of blood. After throwing the blood soaked fabric in the dirty pile, he put both of his palms parallel to the nose. He then smashed them together intending to straighten it out. His nose came a little straighter, but not by much. Darik couldn’t do anything more for it with no medical training whatsoever. Now his ribs… They were messed up pretty good. It would ruin the whole illusion if anyone saw those. How would he hide the injuries? With his own shirt of course! He took off his shirt and compared it to the fallen man’s torso. Because it was big on Darik, it would look perfect on the corpse. Great! Except…the ribs were still bleeding. He didn’t want blood to seep in a clean shirtcloth. He took the rest of the stripes and tried to triple bandage each spot. He stacked three of them on top of each other than twirled it around the back of the where he would tie it. Once he was done bandaging all three wounds he put his shirt over the man. Some blood still sank into the shirtcloth, but it wasn’t completely red. Now for a likely means of death. Darik left the room for the first time. He found what he needed, a rope that wasn’t completely decomposed, and brought it inside. He took it and tied a knot around the man’s neck. Then with all of his might he lifted the top of the rope to the one of the ceiling boards. Luckily they were poorly made so there was good hanging spaces everywhere.. Hooking over one he tied his last knot. It was intense, trying to concentrate while lifting the body up, but the knot still got tied. Taking a step back he admired his handy work. It was a shotty job, but to a passerbyer it would look like he had hanged himself. That was so much better than a body just lying there. His legs were touching the ground still. Time to fix that. Darik walked over and smashed his foot in the floor boards under the man’s foot. They broke and the man’s feet feel in them. Walla, he was now hanging! Leaving the room he focused on his next task. Finding the women. He had taken longer than he should’ve so she wasn’t in his sight. Great! He didn’t even think about running because his body was tired from dragging her and hanging a dead man. So he walked hoping lady luck was on his side. It was. As he turned a corner, he saw her enter the Pig’s Foot Tavern. He must have taken a route that took less time then her. Not believing in his luck, he went into the Tavern. He had been in the Pig Foot Tavern recently. With the exact purpose too. The women was alone talking to a wench. He got close enough to hear her order some type of drink. He walked up and slid into the seat next to her. “I would like the same, put it on her tab.” The winch walked away before Zan could protest. He slid his arm on the counter appearing more casual. ”I didn’t catch your name while we were talking. Care to enlighten me?” Would she notice that he didn’t have a shirt on? Maybe, maybe not. Women are odd creatures.