Rhyme and Reason (Closed)

[Zandelia]

Spring 32nd, 512 AV – The Slave Markets


Zandelia stood at the northern gates, for want of a better word, of Sunberth and watched the lines of mercenaries walk past her with haggard and dirtied appearances. Each one seemed harrowed and withered, as if their very spirit had been somewhat eroded by experiences too horrific to comprehend. She could find no pity within her heart for them, even though they numbered in the scores, not as the slave cages trundled by, their wheels locked into the well-formed ruts of previous wheeled constructs. If anything she found enjoyment and amusement for their sufferings, relishing in the fact that something had rattled such hardened men and women into mere shells of what they had been before. No doubt they would recover, with time, but for now they were husked automata – Zandelia smiled.

It’s about time they saw some pain and fear of their own, living off of others as they do. Bastards she thought as her single green eye roamed across the numerous passing bodies. Still, they were late in their arrival and as soon as Zandelia had gotten word she had come to see for herself, to perhaps learn why.

“Tell me Garret,” she spoke without looking at the Nuit, his half-rotting visage not to her tastes, “why is it that slavers hold so much power in Sunberth? What makes them able to do so?” she asked him, her voice thoughtful but plain in tone so as not to betray her own thoughts on the matter.

The Nuit looked at her way, hood scratching against dried flesh, before answering her. His words took some time to form themselves, his mind working through the possibilities as she knew it would. He had a way of thinking that was slow, methodical and precise. She did not know for how long he had walked the lands of the world but she had the inkling that it had been some time indeed. He knew the value of words, their power, and their presumption if used incorrectly. As she waited his response she watched yet more slavers trudge past, these were less battered than the ones before but still a little rough around the edges - a little frayed. They possessed one difference however, a crucial one, they were talking. These she could learn something from as she kept her eye on them and began keeping apace a number of yards behind them, still blending with the other watchers of Sunberth.

“Sunberth is a melting pot of many things Zandelia, money and strength being two key factors. They bring in wealth to the city proper, so are allowed to stay for that purpose,” Garret spoke, his words slipping into her ears, “but their real power is their brutality. They are unlike the major gangs in that they don’t adhere to any rules, they have none. Their ability to indiscriminately capture and sell any persons protects them more than a fort ever could” he finished, referencing both the Sun’s Birth and Daggerhand’s quite clearly.

Zandelia tilted her head slightly as she considered his words, trying at one and the same time to keep track of the slaver’s conversation as she kept them walking, Garret keeping behind her lest he be broken by a careless passerby. Garret remained silent, his own ears attempting to pick up any stray pieces of conversation that might have been of use to either of them. His companionship over the last few weeks had been sporadic at best, tentative and begrudging on both sides. They did not trust each other overly much that much was true, hey had little reason to. They were united under one banner, that of vengeance. After it had been firmly planted they would separate once again – perhaps even to fight another day.

”Great big storm! Massive! Thought we’d drown in all the sand I tell you! And my gods, then there was the melting sand, running into pools it was!” Zandelia’s ear caught from one mouth, noting a similarity in her own recent experiences and filing the information away for future consideration.

“So they survive by fear? Fear of reprisals to others, even to the gangs perhaps?” she mused out loud, stroking her chin, “so logically you could argue it’s better to rule by fear than it is to rule for monetary gain?” she continued her train of thought.

“If you took away the fear they caused, gave people a reason not to be afraid, then they would merely have money – which we both know is interchangeable, and very easy to steal. What then? Would they have nothing?” she asked him, trying to tease out what his real thoughts were.

[Zandelia]

Garret took the opportunity to pull at Zandelia’s arm, tugging her backwards so that she had to turn to look at the Nuit with mild consternation. The tableaux froze for a few seconds as those the par had been following slipped further and further away from them – her opportunity being missed by the second. Her single eyed gaze merely glared into Garret’s dimming eyes before she pulled her forearm away so quickly he had to let go or risk his fingers being torn off of his hand. She looked at him a moment longer before whirling around and picking up her pace, leaving him behind a little in his shambling walk as he momentarily lacked her shielding presence. It was some time before he caught her up, looking slightly worse for wear.

Let him suffer a bit, let him know who he’s dealing with. Bastard should know by now anyway she thought to herself as she kept a pace about ten yards behind the slaver group once more.

“I don’t like the way you’re thinking Zandelia, it sounds too familiar” Garret finally piped up, his voice a low grunting that would penetrate even the deafest of ears.

“Familiar?” Zandelia asked in a half-mocking tone, “Oh, you mean my father. Well, you would know more about that than I would, having worked for him” she responded, trying to block out the muttering and penetrate the words of the slavers.

I’m telling you, storms everywhere. Cities are damaged! Cities! What kind of thing does all of that to everywhere?! It’s a damned miracle the world didn’t petching end from all the stories! another of the brutish hugs ahead of them shouted, hand gestures gesticulating like there would definitely not be another tomorrow.

“Yes I mean Markus! He started talking the way you are, probing and teasing. He was good at what he did, but sniffed around the wrong people. I didn’t tell you the truth so you could become another psychotic!” he raised his voice then, his words strained as he tried to keep his temper in check.

“You want to catch him don’t you? You want to kill him?” she asked him, keeping her voice as stone, emotionless lest it betray her inner-turmoil.

“Not if I have another him to deal with afterwards!”

“To catch him we have to think like him. Do you want to end up dying, properly this time, because you didn’t? Do you?!”

“No, but-“

“But nothing!” Zandelia rounded on Garret this time, “If I have to do something to understand his methods then I will do it. I will not stand here and wonder how long it takes to track me down. The fact that he has that damned place guarded is incident enough to think he knows you are alive. An idiot could put the rest together” she growled at him before turning away and walking again.

“You look into a monster…”

“You become the monster. I’m just hoping I have bigger teeth than he does. Come on, we might end up learning something useful if we try” she stated simply, deciding whether to continue the conversation from before.

As they walked silence reigned between the two of the, though the world around them was filled with noise – meaningless drivel to Zandelia, feckless renegades trying to crawl their way through the grime of Sunberth. She was beginning to wonder how she would be able to even begin to compete with the larger intelligencer’s of the city. They had established networks, many informants and had already picked the best of the best. Zandelia would have to build something from the refuse, unless she had enough to tempt others away. She doubted she would be overly successful at either eventuality. It was then that Garret began the conversation once again.

“The people’s fear is too ingrained to eradicate. Not entirely. Even if you could diminish it a little it would merely be a lull. You would have to couple it with other measures. Besides the fact that your ‘plan’ begs the question of how you would create the lack of fear in the first petching place” he told her, his manner irritable now.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia stopped now, ducking behind a group of people who were nattering away about the inclement weather and the prices of food rising, more than was fair for the people of Sunberth. The slavers had stopped now, blocked by a cart that had become stuck in a rut for some reason or other. Zandelia gave little heed to the rats that shielded Garret and herself from sight, their concerns mere trivialities now. She had already looked into the matter of food prices and had come to the conclusion that supply and demand only worked for the merchants themselves. The organized gangs of the city were hoarding their resources in case of assault, it was a basic survival mechanism that Zandelia felt little anger over – she would have done the same. As she continued to listen she mused over what Garret had said moments prior to their stopping.

He has a point though, the bastard. Fear is not a useful tool by itself. It requires other blocks to create, other events to sustain and a specialist viewpoint to exploit to the fullest she thought as she kept her emerald green eye upon their targets.

”Few slaves to speak of too this season, bad news. We’ll have to raise the petching prices, which means fewer buyers. We’ll need to take local stock now just to break even on paying everyone. Petching storm! one of the stalked muttered, causing rumblings of discontent amongst the gathered group.

“So they intend to stalk the city more than usual this time. Well, I will have to pass that on to the others. Can’t have them being taken now can we?” she chuckled to herself, imagining for a second how Cade would look with a collar on him. She grinned at Garret as his expression looked as if it were trying out for horrified.

“I do not think you are entirely correct though Garret, old friend,” she stated and watched him shudder slightly, “it could be kept at a low ebb for some time with the right events put in place. Think about it, fear dissipates when something appears weak. They return here with their tails between their legs, you can hear it clearly. That already damages their reputation” she b3egan upon her reasoning.

“Now, we have learnt they seek to take the local populace. That will breed resentment as much as fear. Resentment we can use. This town is still recovering from its own battering. Do you really think it would take kindly to another?” she asked.

“Are you suggesting we wage war upon them then, oh general?” Garret responded sarcastically.

“No, I am suggesting that we harness it. A few well placed raids on the smaller groups would drive their spread into the relative safety of the market itself,” she thought it through as she stated it out slowly, “that done their movements would be more easily tracked. Their safety in numbers becomes our assurance of monitoring. When we have that we can set a noose of our own. We can cut off the smaller bands looking for slaves to take, drag them into back alleys where no one will be any the wiser” she mused still further.

“People will start to ask questions, they will tear the city apart looking for the culprits. You know that! You risk everything for your own petching hubris Zandelia. You cannot change the natural order of things. The people will not allow it!” Garret intervened.

“Why?” the unexpected question stopped him in his tracks.

“What…why?! You just can’t!” he whin3ed at her, trying to put his own point of view in place of her own now.

“Look at the people Garret, they are directionless rabble. They only gain strength when directed and it is better to be the director in my book. Look, they will go looking, yes I agree. But that separates them further for elimination. They will also be cagey, panicked. They will make mistakes, kill a few too many people in supposed retribution. That is when their fear becomes useless, when it is overridden by hate. Hate we can use to harry them. Their power would be diminished, an easier target” she returned smoothly.

“Akajia send you do not mean to do it, it will be the end of you” Garret responded quietly.

“Akajia will decide upon the victor based upon their merits. On that score we can’t lose. This is theory Garret. We need to think this way. I’m not an idiot, but neither will I miss any more opportunity should I see it arise. Mark me well on that” she finished, noting that the slavers were meeting once again and ducking out from behind the rabble populace to continue the pursuit.

[Zandelia]

“Oh I am marking you Zandelia, don’t worry about that” she heard Garret mutter as she forged ahead once more.

She merely shook her head and noted how the journey was becoming more difficult now as the flow of people became susceptible to the funneling ways of Sunberth’s network of streets. The thronged masses now resembled so many veins and arteries as they were forced into very specific patterns. She was conscious that her compatriot was proving to be slower than she liked, taking care not to bump into anyone more than usual. She did not think it paranoid of her to assume he was doing it on purpose to end their pursuit, and thus the conversation. She would not allow that and instead dragged them both to the edge of the street where it was less busy, slinking from doorway to shop stall and more. They mad better progress than the slavers now, actually passing them. She stopped them at the next junction and lean against the wall, using a doorway as a partial shield from view.

And here we await our slaver friends you decrepit corpse, how do you like that? she thought triumphantly as she set about picking at her nails with a dagger as casually as she dared – she did not want to appear too relaxed after all, it was a tell.

“Garret, if you don’t like my methods then that is fine. However, to mock theory that could improve our chances seems foolish. Are you merely afraid you won’t control me at all? Is that it?” she asked him, her voice laced with poisoned honey.

“No,” he sighed, “I gave up on that years ago when you all but killed me. I just don’t want my only ally against your father to die for no damned good reason” he responded, a hint of hesitation in his tone that made Zandelia raise an eyebrow in thought, tucking the information away for future consideration.

“Well then, why not try and help rather than argue. Think about the plan, can it be improved? Is there more to it? Are we missing anything?” she asked him.

“Where are you getting these thoughts Zandelia? I never taught you this!” he stated simply, suspicion now in his voice that she knew could spell danger.

Zandelia took a few moments to look around, her gaze flitting this way and that but always passing the group of slavers that were slowly approaching their position. She did not know what they were saying now, however she would have given her back teeth to know. Still, she knew she could not have everything. At the very least she was learning something. She also had a mind to learn where they were going to bunker down in the city so that she could think of ways to harass them, test her skills and abilities in a controlled manner – without much outside interference. Still, she was dawdling in her response also, wondering whether to reveal where she had gained her newfound perspectives or not.

Unfortunately there is little way around it… she thought to herself. She had hoped he would not ask her straight out. It was a good tactic that she noted for herself also, another observation learnt.

“A book. I went to the library to see if there was anything useful. Turns out there was. You won’t find the books though, I hid them” she told him in a stony tone as she watched his cloudy eyes widen and could almost read his thoughts.

“There are some holes in the plan, eventualities you cannot actually plan for. You assume that the public would rise up, but leading them from the shadows is not so easy. They would need a figure head and you, obviously, could not be it. Nor anyone you know or are associated with. Too many links to join up,” Garret retorted, “not to mention that you assume the slavers will not just lash out repeatedly until they kill everyone and create the fear once again”

“So, you agree it’s possible but needs adaptation,” she spoke out loud and watched him nod with resignation, “well then, it is a start. Using an unknown would not work, but someone with a reputation. Other gangs are not possible, too many ties with the slavers. But-“ she stopped mid-sentence as a revelation hit her square in the forehead.

“What?”

“Why don’t we use themselves?” she asked in hushed tones as the slaver group now passed the pair of them and began their way in the direction of the slave markets.

[Zandelia]

The pair began to follow them at a distance now, their destination all but dictated as either the slave markets themselves or the warren of alleys and buildings to its north. The streets were getting thinner of people now, the junctions siphoning off a few here and there until movements became a much simpler matter. They still maintained a good score or so paces between themselves and the slavers - it would not pay to be noticed after all. Zandelia began to try and formulate a newer plan as she walked, still trying to keep one ear open and upon the conversations surrounding her. Garret was silent, for the most part, no doubt trying to figure out what her next suggestion would be. She was content enough to keep him guessing as she thought, his thoughts valuable indeed at that moment.

Killed a lot of the fiends but got a few injuries ourselves. Couple of deep wounds spread out too, some fingers gone and all that. Know it comes with the job but damned sorry to see good men need resting more than waking – cut into our presence one was now saying, an interesting note to pick up on and one Zandelia allowed to percolate into her own ideas too.

Injuries, battering from storms and less ‘product’ to sell? Whatever happened to them they’re weaker than ever to be sure she thought to herself as she got her tongue ready to speak once more.

“Themselves? Against themselves? Are you still sane girl?” Garret asked her, not for the first time now.

“Of course I am you corpse,” she snapped back at him as she put her fingers to her lips in a bid to gain his silence, “listen to them! This could be history in the making, manifest destiny and we are living in it. They are bruised, battered, injured. Their numbers are lower and they will make mistakes trying to raise their profits this season” she began.

“So, everyone makes mistakes. It’s not exactly a death knell unless you’re dealing with a psychotic woman like you” garret responded.

“Stow your mouth and listen for once, you don’t outrank me anymore Garret!”

“Fine. Reveal your grand plan so I can hang myself and not take part”

“Hanging would work on you? Really” she asked him, actually intrigued as to whether such an act could kill a walking corpse.

“Figure of speech” he smiled back at her as the barbs from earlier in their conversation came back to bite her and pull a growl from her throat.

“Well, they are weaker. There will be competition and they will be suspicious of each other. Therefore we can turn them against each other if we were careful. Once the original plan begins to bite we no longer require the public to tighten the noose for the final dance,” she laid out her new idea now for him to analyze, “then we start actively sowing discord. A few slaves go missing from their pens here, a few scraps of uniform left at a scene there. A forged note, Crimson Edge members dressed n some slaver’s gear we could take from the dead” she continued.

She watched as Garret began to nod a little, tilting his head and revealing to her where she had picked her own similar habit up from as he rolled the new tactics around in his rotting mind for consideration – weighing them accordingly as he pursed his lips slightly. She could almost feel the tension in the air, palpable as it began to turn and she saw him begin to come around to her way of thinking, finally accepting what she had been saying as true and knowing he had to think like a beast to beat the beast.

“It..could…work. It is risky though. One of your members gets captured and it’s all for naught, for example. Still, it has potential if used correctly and planned out precisely. Slavers are rowdy by nature and always like fighting. Put enough pressure on them and that bar brawl could soon become all out warfare…” he spoke out softly.

“And then they weaken themselves, yes. Each death, on all sides, strengthens our position and create vulnerabilities. We can use those cracks, force in a chisel and hammer the entire thing open. Then…” she smacked her fist into her other palm firmly and smiled at him, smiled.

Oh how he must wish he could weep. A monster he was, a monster he served…and another monster he may be creating. Still, better to be ruthless and alive than kind and dead she thought as the Slave Market came into full view.

It was full of hustle and bustle, people thronging and shouting. Sales were being made already as the blocks became occupied and cages were opened. As always the sounds of hard lashings cracked over the milling crowd’s background noise. They followed the slavers still, Garret staying behind as the throng proved too much. Zandelia was just another face as she tailed them, their way winding generally north as they exchanged crude banter with others. It took some time but eventually they disappeared into the warrens north of the Slave Market. She grinned yet again, remembering the trouble she had had with small time gangs and Lusa what seemed like years ago now.

Another excuse to raze it to the ground now then… she thought as she made her way back towards where she had left Garret, her satisfaction coursing through her. She felt more alive than she had ever been, excitement crackling through her at her developing skills.

[Ink]

And in the Aftermath . . . The Rewards are Revealed. Zandelia : Skills: Observation 1 Rhetoric 3 Subterfuge 2 Intelligence 2 Story Telling 1 Stealth 1 Lores: Power; Fear and Money Planning Subterfuge Written in the ink : If there are any concerns or problems with my grading please feel free to toss me a PM. I am more than happy to explain my reasons or reevaluate them if you feel I've been unfair.