Three Fingered Jack (Solo)

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

Season Fall, Day 58, Year 512 The section of Zeltiva known as East Street was like a rock smashed by some massive force, cracking into a pile of jumbled rubble that fooled people into thinking it could be put back together. The houses were built with no particular congruency with one another; some tall and lean others short and squat, all rubbing uncomfortable against one another fighting for the right to exist upon the same spot. The walkways were often too narrow and dark to be called streets, better described as dozens of alleys branching off into even darker and thinner veins as they twisted around each other or simply curled up into dead ends. Beggars made their homes here, brought in on boats with nowhere to go or past citizens fallen from social grace. There were prostitutes a plenty, rouges of all sorts and more than a few murderers. The shop keepers had cold eyes and kept weapons nearby while their customer’s darted shifty looks and nervous hands. Everyone had eyes in the back of their head it seemed, or maybe that was nature’s natural selection at work. The Djed storm had swept through like water over a broken cyst, cleansing the streets and bringing the first sense of community East Street had had for a long time. However, it wasn’t long before this new wave of civility stagnated, growing putrid and sulfurous. People scorned their friends and befriend their enemies. Deals were struck in the dark and all that was low and masochistic came to rest in East Street like muck under Zeltiva’s boot. It was a depressing place but, there was something about it Sebastian felt undeniably drawn to. The way it got his teeth on edge and adrenaline rushing whenever he walked down the street was part of it he supposed. There was nothing quite like the thrill of danger to keep a man sharp but, it was, he decided, the people that keep him coming back. In Syliras you were want to find a single miscreant much less an entire district of the scum. Such people did come through once in a while but, were effectively dealt with by hordes of Knights searching even the underside of rocks for ill deeds. East Street then, was like nothing Sebastian had ever encountered and he found himself unable to understand its existence. Why were these people here? How did they come to be and what keep them continuing day after day with little thought of building a different life? It wasn’t as if the inhabitants of East Street were unskilled. While larceny and murder weren’t looked well upon by blue-collar society there was a positive motion such energy could be put towards. East Street was, Sebastian had decided, like a diamond. A precious gem someone had swallowed and a week later crapped out only to lose it under cascades of shit. There was potential here, massive potential for, something, he was sure of it. Only fools or vultures walk East Street at night. Everyone knew that. And as Sebastian wasn’t the later he’d agree well enough that he then must be a fool. But even fools had to eat, and so it was, on his way to work through a practically foul alleyway that Sebastian came across Three Fingered Jack.

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

Three Finger Jack was a wily disheveled sort who owned a small business but, unlike some of his competitors never tried to make himself out as anything other than what he was, a pimp. He’d been in this line of work long enough to have shattered every possible romantic fancy born out of cock-headed ignorance. The world was a malicious and shit stained place. The kind of place where strangers killed you for mere copper, loyalty was soiled nightly like a whores undergarments, and children preyed more effectively on the weak minded then adult maters of manipulation. Jack had lost the last and fourth fingers of his right hand to rats owned by a practically evil fellow whose body now rotted in the bottom of a pit. He didn’t know why people called him Three Fingers. It was two fingers and a thumb, and he had a whole left hand at that, but people were idiots and he’d gotten tired of correcting them. He’d made a semblance of a life here in East Street, got in with the local gang and was running a pretty good business. The time was soon approaching when even the feared bitch of Loveless, Madame Zana would be force to bend over for his pleasure. Still there wasn’t a cog in all of life that run without rust and sometimes you just needed to snap the little things off before they got any worse. Casca was one of those little cogs. His finest girl caught dealing under the counter. Well he didn’t care if she creamed gold. No one stole from him, especially his own property. "Please, Jack. Please, I'll nerve do it again." The whore begged with her lying mouth and ugly bruised face. "I know sweetheart." He replied, his words holding the cold finality of an executioner.

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

Carefully stepping over jagged holes in the cobblestones and around refuse Sebastian looked up at a sound coming from one of the side allies. It was a hard sharp impact of fist hitting flesh and the sobs that filled the space between each strike were unmistakably that of a women. Without slowing he turned and moved towards the deeper shadows of the narrow dead-end space between two crowded buildings. It seemed there wasn’t a night that went by without someone getting mugged, beat, raped, or knifed in East Street. It was a strange despairing place when such acts could go from moral atrocities to common day business. Where people didn’t just turn a blind eye but, watched with sharp sliver smiles their fellow’s miseries. That had struck Sebastian deepest when he’d first moved here. How few people were willing to lend an honest hand. It was like all the natural nobility had drained from their hearts leaving something small and mean in its place. He didn’t understand these people, how they thought, how they lived. How they did nothing to prevent the degrade of society around them, knowing full well that tomorrow it could be them lying face down dead in the gutter. Wasn’t it natural to want a better life; to strive for comfort and happiness? Sebastian had always thought so, and it seemed the people of East Street were no different in that regard but, their happiness always appeared to be at the cost of another's pain. A strange wicked currency and one he refused to deal in. Peering into the darkness Sebastian heard another crack and saw a woman stumbled towards him. The first thing he noticed was her hair. It was a deep full red, long and draped in ringlets down her back and over shaking shoulders as she fell to the cobble stones. Her skin was a rich nut brown and she had the lanky body of a girl who’d not fully blossomed into womanhood. Her bright green dress was torn exposing small round breasts and a great deal of leg. Her face was hidden by a wall of hair as she glanced up towards him. Apparently startled by his presence she gave a whimpering gasp wrapping her arms about to provide some dignity while shielding away, back into half shadows. There was a man standing behind her. Short, but stout in muscle like a small bear. His clothing was unremarkable except for a knife he carried at his left hip. His faced was gouged with deep lines like an old man who’d been through too many wars and his mouth was an almost lip less slit. A crooked flat nose, deep seated shadowed eyes and shaved head completed his unwholesome appearance. Sebastian could see the glimmer of fresh blood on his knuckles as the man placed a hand over his dagger hilt, the other entwining forcibly into the woman’s hair. There was something odd about his right hand, but in the dim light Sebastian couldn’t make out what. “Whach you looking at boy?” He challenged in a deep guttural voice. “You got some business or just a sick streak?” He yanked the sobbing women up to her knees, bending her spine backward so her abused body was fully exposed to Sebastian’s eyes. Her mangled dress sagged from one hip revealing the curling tips of pubic hair. In all his life Sebastian had never seen a women treated so cruelly, or anyone for that matter, and with such offhanded supremacy. It was infuriating how the people of East Street allowed men such as this to rule them; laid at their feet with lies and submission, selling their souls for tainted bread crumbs. His whole body shook with rage threatening to split him apart with it’s furious energy. Others might walk away, some wonder at the circumstances which had brought the women to this point, while a few, as the man suggested would watch out of depraved fascination. Sebastian was none of these people. It was obvious to him what was happening and what needed to be done. It didn’t matter that the women might have been a cut purse or a murder. His honor demanded that her aggressor be punished, for what he’d done was inexcusable and went beyond a man's right for defense or revenge. Moving faster than expected Sebastian lunged slamming his fist into the man’s face with a satisfying crunch that propelled him backwards into the dark. There was a loud clatter as the thug stumbled into something and objects rained down over his body. Following the noise Sebastian jumped into the shadows his mind ablaze with rage as he slammed down upon the man pinning him under his knees and sending a hail of punches over his body. Some of the blows missed hitting the surrounding objects sending them flying in all directions. At some point there was a noise, yelling maybe, Sebastian didn’t known, but suddenly there were a pair of arms around his neck and he was yanked back falling against the one who’d pulled him. Twisting about to face this new foe Sebastian was met with a hurricane of sharp nails and high pitched screams of rage as the red haired women clawed his face and any other part of his body she could reach. Surprised he staggered back trying to shield himself as she followed screeching like a banshee and pummeling him with her small fist. His back hit the wall and Sebastian felt her teeth bite into his arm as he tried to ward her off. Though utterly bewildered by her reaction the short guy was still out there and he needed her to stop. “Lady what is your problem?” He yelled grasping her tightly about the arms and holder her away from him. “Who do you think you are?” She screamed, blood tinged spittle flying from her ruby red lips. “Who in Ivak's blazing fires do you think you are? Get out of here! We were just having a conversation! It’s none of your business! Get the petch outa here you worthless piece of shit!” Her arms spasm as she tried desperately to dig her long broken nails into his flesh and her head shot forward like a snakes towards his neck. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she seemed to have gone completely insane. Not knowing what else to do Sebastian released one of her arms stepping out of the way as her own momentum crashed her against the wall. Bringing his other arm about he clasped her in a forceful embrace pinning her arms. "Calm down will you." He grunted as she flailed her head back trying to hit him. “Oh yeah, you want it don’t you! You guna rape me? That’ll make you a big man won’t it! Come on you petching dog, you worthless son of a bitch!” She moaned mockingly grinding against him as he held her. “Come on, give it to me!” Sebastian gritted his teeth resisting the impulse to throw this repulsive woman from him, instead spinning both of them about so that his back was now to the wall and his eyes free to search for the man with the knife and anyone else who might poke their head down the alley. It was clear the women was possessed or insane. Why else would she attack the person trying to save her? There was a funny smell about her beneath all the grim and blood too. Some kind of drug maybe? Wasn't anything he could do about that now. Sebastian peered into the dark while she struggled to free herself, using language that made his ears burn. The man was nowhere in sight so maybe he was still lying in a daze, or watching from the shadows. It was possible he might have slunk off into the night but, Sebastian doubted it. He’d seen the man and knew from a glance that he was no coward but, a sly dangerous sort who still lived only by the graces of quick wit and sharp blades. As the woman’s nails dug into his forearms Sebastian wondered, if just for a moment, whether he’d done the right thing getting into the middle of these people’s business. He’d acted rashly not bothering to question the events that may have lead to the girl falling before his feet and the man standing behind her. Maybe she’d attacked him first? Seeing how she acted now it wasn't a completely far fetched theory. But then he remembered her abused body and his emotionless eyes. No he’d done the right thing, likely not the smartest but, the right one. He continued to hold her tell the girl's curses dissolved into tears and her body sagged against him. Tentatively he loosened his hold around her, and after several moment when she made no effort to strike Sebastian relaxed. He could feel the wetness of her tears pepper his arm and in all his life couldn’t recall ever having heard such heart retching sobs as the ones issuing from this woman’s mouth. It wasn’t just sorrow but, a raw internal agony sowed deep within her core. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, destroy the demons that caused her so much pain, anything to heal that bubbling well of suffering. “Well, petch boy. You sure can land a punch.” The was a small clattering as a shape rose from a corner of the dead end and stumbled into view. It was the man with the knife and the blade was out twirling in his left hand. “Now why don’t you let the whore go and we’ll finish this.” Sebastian could see now as the man balanced himself for a fight that he was missing the last two fingers of his right hand. “Your three fingered Jack.” He voiced recalling the name and bits of the man’s dark reputation he’d picked from floating gossip. “That’s right, but I’m not going to ask your name son because in less than a minute you’ll be dead.” He spoke with a cold flat voice that sent an angry flush to Sebastian’s cheeks. “We’ll see, old man.” He replied in a hard voice. Gently removing his arms from around the young women he told her to run, but she only turned from him and hid her face as he stepped away.

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

Jack came at him fast the knife dipping and striking like a snake slipping though Sebastian’s guard and leaving thin trails of blood across his arms and slits in his clothing. The man was good, too good. He held his weapon with familiar ease and flowed from one strike into the next timing it perfectly with his breath. It took all of Sebastian’s concentration just avoiding being gutting while he lunged clumsily from side to side trying to prevent getting pined against a wall. Jumping backwards to avoid a thrust to his face Sebastian tripped over a diminutive barrel. Landing on his backside he kicking out and heard Jack stagger as the barrel hit him somewhere around the stomach before splintering open against the ground. The smell of oil filled the air as, scrambling up, Sebastian grabbed a nearby shard of broken bottle and rose wincing when the edges cut into his hand. Jack feinted the knife towards his face and Sebastian dodged unknowingly giving the man an opening to slam the dagger into his side. Grabbed a tattered cloth hanging from a line between two buildings Sebastian let his weight drop backwards as the knife sliced through the space where his torso had been. Sweeping a leg up his knee caught under the man’s jaw knocking him back. With his other hand he plunged the shard of glass into Jack’s left shoulder. Instead of flinching back as Sebastian expected the burly man rushed forward knocking both of them to the ground. There was a snap from above as the wiring broke and the cloth fell atop them. Sebastian was breathing hard as he fought with both hands against the dagger poised over his throat. The two men struggled, the knife quivered back and forth between them. He couldn’t see anything in the drapes darkness but, the smell of mildew was almost overwhelming. Suddenly Jack sneezed and with a lurch Sebastian flipped the two of them over, the knife striking sparks against the ground as it grinded over broken cobblestones. Taking Jack’s left hand Sebastian viciously smashed it against the ground until he felt the fingers release. Grasping for the blade he grunted in pain as the smaller man kneed him in the groin. Stumbling backwards he slipped on the oil and right behind him Jack too lost his footing sliding past the younger man towards the back of the dead end. Catching sight of the young women still huddle against the wall Sebastian scrambled towards her. “Come on!” He urged pulling her to her feet and running away from the sounds of Jack struggling to follow. It seemed Three Fingered Jack did indeed deserve his reputation and this was a fight Sebastian knew he couldn’t win. Running through one jagged ally to another, slipping through broken doors and ruined buildings Sebastian glanced back. The girl’s red hair was streaming behind her reveling a bruised but well developed face and the brightest emerald eyes he’d ever seen. She was Inarta, must be with that fiery hair and those green eyes. He’d heard the Inarta were a strong bold people who crafted masterpieces of glass, could talk to birds and flew on the backs of giant beasts into battle. It seemed odd to him that a young woman from such a tribe would allow herself to be terrorized by East Street's unsavory company. “Will you stop running you fool.” She said bitterly wrenching her hand out of Sebastian’s and clasping her arms about her shoulders, once again to hide her nudity. Jack had called her a whore and looking at what remained of her lacy outfit Sebastian wondered if that was true. Glancing about he saw they’d ended up not far from his apartment. “I live near here.” He said as the girl continued to avert her face, “You could stay there for the nig-“He was cut off as her hand suddenly shot out slapping him hard across the cheek. “I don’t need your charity. “ She shot venomously. “I don’t need anyone’s help. You don’t know anything about me so just, just leave me alone. You’ve petched everything up enough as it is.” She glared her eyes black and stormy. Sebastian put a hand to his cheek and felt the blood on his fingers from where her jagged nails had cut him. It was true, he didn’t know anything about this girl or why she acted like a crazy women but, he knew a person in trouble when he saw one, and she was in a lot of trouble, dangerous trouble. Though she was still a young women he could tell one day soon she’d be a great beauty. Whatever choices she’d made in the past it pained him to see her like this, to see anyone like this. As she stood glaring at him he could feel a need coming from her, a deep disturbing desire to be punished, but for what? Sebastian didn’t know and he wasn’t about to do so. He wasn’t going to play a part from her past or feed her illness. You couldn't help a person who didn't want it, and this girl was no different. It was a sad thing and he couldn’t help but gaze at her with regret. “I don’t know what you’ve been through.” He murmured. “But no one, no matter what they’ve done, deserves to be treated how Jack was treating you. If you ever get tired, come by Loveless. I’ll take care of you.” “Shut up!” She hissed. “If I see you again I’ll kill you.” Then turning she fled into the night.

[Paragon]

Sebastian Stalinsa

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Intimidation	1
Unarmed Combat	1
Brawling	3
Leadership	1
Running	1

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	The Underbelly of Zeltiva
•	Fools or Vultures
•	Three Finger Jack
•	Saving Those Who Don't Wish To Be Saved
•	The Red Haired Whore
•	Taking Opportunities in a Brawl

Legend Becomes Reality

Really beautiful writing, your opening descriptions were fantastic! You captured East Street well If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can work from there.