The Castle Commons Conspiracy I [Job Thread]

by **Zandelia** on April 8th, 2014, 2:04 pm

31st Spring, 514 AV - The Pig's Foot Tavern

She sniffed the air and that all too familiar scent curled into her nostrils. She paused in her scrawling, gaze breaking from the page of the book briefly as she enjoyed the altogether rare sensation of actually enjoying the air. The aroma was sharp and cool, cutting through the smoke and the stale stench of sweat like knife through canvas. She sighed aloud theatrically and her left hand, her right still holding the quill, came up to make a shaking of the forefinger in warning – to stop approaching her. The soft sound of feet being placed carefully upon the creaking boards behind her had informed her of the intent to approach. Her gaze flicked to the bar and the activity taking place there. The loud knocks of wood upon wood were barely heard amidst the clatter – purposeful pattern through chaos.

“Yes Carole? What is it?” she asked without looking up from the book she had recently taken to using for the practise of the art form that the world numbers danced – or rather would do one day with enough effort.

“How…how did you know it was me?” the sharp intake of breath that preceded her words told her that the young woman was impressed.

“Such information is hard won, dear, you think that I will tell you everything just because you say that you want to help me? Do not take me for a fool. Your loyalty is yet to be proven. Sit” she gestured with her free hand briefly to the seat opposite her.

She supposed that it might seem like magic to others, the way in which she was able to predict that which to them seemed to be unpredictable. She had had her back to the room after all, she had been facing the wall purposefully so as to better drown out the world of the tavern that surrounded her – it was always so interesting and she had more important things to consider at that moment. It was far from it of course, though she possessed a small edge of advantage in that respect. Process of elimination was far more effective than trying to be omniscient. She knew that Carole had been looking for her, whispers had reached her from Jarral and others. She also knew that her other eyes were busy elsewhere - she had not seen fit to trust the woman with a task just yet as she mulled over the offer of alliance. Adding that to the obvious fact that the weight of the footfalls behind her had been light, delicate and slightly rolling and the conclusion had not been overly difficult.

It helped that I asked Merv to tap the bar with the cup thrice if a girl of Carole’s description entered, of course. Oh the world of shadows, so interesting and yet also simple. Mirrors and smoke. Favours owed and bonds forged. Difficult of course, hard won certainly but worth the price of admittance she told herself with a small smile as Carole gingerly slipped into the chair across the table.

“I have found som-“ Carole began to say but Zandelia raised her hand to forestall the words, focus still upon the numbers before her. Her quill scratched across the parchment before her, careful and slow movements between the dibbing into the inkwell for more of its dark fluid.

1 + 1 = 2
1 + 2 = 3
1 + 3 = 4
1 + 4 = 5
1 + 5 = 6
1 + 6 = 7
1 + 7 = 8
1 + 8 = 9
1 + 9 = 10
1 + 10 = 11
1 + 11 = 12
1 + 12 = 13
1 + 13 = 14
1 + 14 = 15
1 + 15 = 16

It was a simple collection of sums, a starting foundation that she was slowly building upon. It wasn’t that she ignorant as such, she knew as well as anyone how to calculate. Gold didn’t stay yours for long if you couldn’t count it and spend it wisely. She was just new to writing it all out by hand, totalling and recording. She needed to learn she knew, for her own purposes, but it was an annoyingly laborious affair and she blew upon the page to dry it before closing it with a soft snap of paper. She looked up then and leaned back into her chair, fingertips meeting and placed to her lips.

“You were saying?” she asked simply, watching the young woman very carefully for any suggestion of duplicity.

“How did you do it?”

“Oh gods above girl, does it matter?”

“Yes”

“Why?” she asked after she had taken a few moments to consider the response and taken in the jutting chin and almost defiant pout that the young always plastered across their faces when disappointed in themselves – she wanted to be better. That was good.

“Because if you can then it means others can and I can’t disguise myself” came the obvious response. She let it hang in the air as she thought out her reply. A small showing couldn’t hurt and she would still be several steps behind.

“True, but hardly different from any other in this city. Very well, one of the reasons is your scent. You use soap that is laced with mint leaves. Strong, pungent and I’d imagine designed to block out the stench of the city. But it also clings to you like a cloud of sweetness. Few are like that aside from whores, whores don’t meet me and least of all here. So either it is a clean person or a careful person. I go for careful because there were scant other sounds made to accompany the scent. Adding to that the fact that I really am that good at what I do the conclusion is foregone. Now…what did you want?” she asked, her patience was wearing thin.

“To help you,” the girl looked aside and bit her lower lip slowly, twisting it out of proportion, “I have heard…things”

“So have I, many things. What is it you have heard?”

“Castle Commons. Merchant is in trouble. You know the warehouse business?”

“How the guards extort for protection and then steal their way to wealth? Yes. Boring and all too simple” she stated as she continued to watch, feigning tedium to test how far Carole was willing to push to please.

“Not boring at all! You want…people. You said! I thought…well…if you help th-“

“If I help them then I gain one? Yes, perhaps, but what is it you gain my dear?”

“What? Nothing! I only wanted to…suggest. To be useful. Maybe…tag along?” the gaze was soft as she looked Zandelia in the eye, the depths spoke of an eagerness.

“Why would you want to come with me? The last time we met I almost killed you. Only usefulness stayed my hand”

“Well…you’re good. Too good. You knew everything. I’d never been discovered like that. It was…impressive. I want to learn. Learn how y-“

“How I do it,” she finished with a dead tone of voice and the girl flinched a little, “you can’t learn from me and I’m not foolish enough to teach you how to think like I do. You think I’d give up that so easily? What can you possibly offer in return?”

“Me”

“You?” she asked blankly.

“I was told you…enjoy women. I know my worth and I am not ugly. And I can run messages, collect things for you. Organize. Help in any way I can”

“A servant?”

“An assistant. Or just a petch here and there. Your choice” the girl was blushing now, profusely so and she refused to meet Zandelia’s gaze.

She thought the offer over carefully, it was a good one all things considered. If Carole had just offered information she would have been classified as a fool – she knew enough to deduce that Zandelia had many sources of information and one more didn’t really stand out. It would have been welcome but unimportant. So she had offered something more, something only Carole could offer – herself. She was wary though, she detested the idea that another would have their nose in her business but she was wise enough to see that as her web was woven and increased in complexity she would be unable to deal with all of it herself. She would need an assistant one day and Fallon was too busy with other matters. No, she needed someone else. She turned it over and knew enough not to agree to it outright. She needed to test the woman first.

Let’s see how well she does. One chance and no more. If she does well…we will deal with that if it occurs she told herself as she breathed through her nose and onto her fingers.

“Fine. I will give you one chance to impress me enough. Castle Commons?”

“Castle Commons”

“Let’s not keep them waiting then” she concluded the conversation and tucked the journal behind the bar to be retrieved later – all it held were a few pages of mathematics after all and as such was expendable for light fingered foes.

She led them towards the door.

by **Zandelia** on April 8th, 2014, 9:18 pm

As they stepped out into the world the weak morning sunshine made an attempt to warm through her skin, her night leather was of the purest black as well as her cloak and she was beginning to enjoy the pleasantly small benefit that such a colour afforded her – it absorbed heat no matter what type, though sunshine was best for some reason. She was far from cold after being ensconced within the Trotter Trough for the past Bell or so but it the sun always held and appeal that fires just couldn’t match. She turned to look at Carole as the door screeched shut in complaint at its over-frequent usage. She was wearing leather also, though this was more of a hodgepodge of clearly scavenged items – pieced together and battered so far as to be almost destroyed in places.

And yet she wears it, perhaps to feel safe despite the inkling that she would still be crushed if a mace slammed into her with its fullest of forces. Though if I am honest I am not sure mine would stop such a weapon either. Dampen it, perhaps. But hers…it would fall to pieces. So hard up on money, scratching for a living…and here I am she mused in the few moments of silence – it had only been a few moments for the observation. She was becoming quicker of late. Clearly her resurgence in the world of the Intelligencer was quickening her abilities after a long period of disuse.

“Ladies first,” she swept her arm in the general direction of the Castle Commons, “and along the way you can tell me the real reason you approached me and no one else. And don’t lie, I can read you far too easily. When you are done with that, then tell me of this…merchant” she instructed in clipped, short tones.

“The real reason?” Carole asked sharply, too sharply and it informed her she had touched upon something of a sore subject.

“Yes. You expect me to believe that you are here because you want to help me? Many people say that but they never mean it. You don’t know me, you aren’t a friend and hardly a companion in arms” she retorted, awaiting the revelation.

“You’re extraordinary”

“Yes I know and you aren’t so again, why?”

“Fine! Are you always such a bitch?”

“Often, when it works”

“I want to learn. You think it’s easy to earn gold when you’re talentless?”

“No, I know it isn’t. For you, well you need the gold”

“How dare you”

“Dare? I don’t dare for unimportant matters. It’s pointless. Your armour is not your own, you boots are worn to the point of worthlessness and the clothing that shows itself here and there, whilst it used to be coloured blue, has faded into a grey. You need gold”

“YES! Petch the world I need it!”

“Fantastic”

“Why are you such an arse? Are you like this with everyone? Does it make you feel big to point out what others lack? What’s the point in being cutting when there’s no reward for it?”

“You tell me”

There was a silence then as they walked, the crowds that filtered through the dirt streets were thin at this time of the day, mostly runners and those without employment she noted. No one would just randomly walk at this hour if they had work to do. Or perhaps their work was based in the streets, it was often the case with those who were too insignificant to own a real location for business. Especially for those whose work comprised of the shadier aspects of casual economic vandalism that served as the basis for the city’s economy – she had always found that ironic. Steal money to create the money. Sunberth would shut down overnight almost if it wasn’t filled with crime, not that it was seen as such here. It was survival. Yet she was being led to believe that, for now, it was better to put a stop to such suspicious and deviant activities. The situation amused her and she smiled slightly as they continued their trawl towards their destination, edging slowly closer at their gentle pace.

No haste is necessary of course, though I wish she would stop being so dense and figure out precisely why I was an arse to her. Instructive purposes shouldn’t be overly difficult to discover. If she wishes to learn then she will have to be smarter she reasoned as her gaze swept across these they passed – seeking information or anything of interest. Her ears were very much upon the ebb and flow of exchanged conversations of the shared public considerations. People did so love to gossip, it was a weakness she enjoyed and was not entirely immune to either.

“A lesson”

“Excuse me, I wasn’t listening” she turned her attention back to Carole now and hoped she would prove interesting.

“You were teaching me a lesson” she almost hissed.

“In what?”

“Observing things, people. You’ve being doing it since I sat down”

“Very good, now you have had the first lesson free of charge. The first thing to practise is learning by observation. The second lesson you will have to earn. So, tell me of this merchant” she had lied of course, her lesson had begun outside but she wasn’t about to ruin the shroud of mystique Carole seemed intent to build up in her mind – such cloaks were useful tools and it told her another thing about the woman. She was seeking a role model of her liking – interesting.

“He sells…”

“Boring, I don’t need to know what he sells at this moment. Name, situation, reason”

“Well his name is Davra, he has hired a group of guards to watch his goods but the prices are rising and he can’t afford them. They’ll rob him half-blind…soon…shyke”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean any offense at th-“

“Shut up, sentiment doesn’t suit you. How many? What use is this Davra to me?”

“Us!” Carole sniffed in indignation before continuing, “three at last count. He used to be a handler for Tua and knows a lot. Especially about his competition. He’ll probably want more work done if we save him. Plus he is a merchant. Here, see, do. Always good for information”

“What did you say?”

“Always good for inf-“

“No, before that”

“Here, see, do?”

“Hmmm, interesting choice of words. You haven’t met someone by the name of Bitzer have you?”

“No, should I have done?”

“No…no. Alright, it sounds plausible as you say but now you need to prove it to me. Take me to him” she demanded.

They were at the edge of the Castle Commons now and the human traffic had picked up remarkably quickly over the past score of yards. The hawkers and stall holders were hard at work, their competitive bellows and roaring of prices blending into a cacophony of dense noise. She sighed, she always hated having to force her way through the crowds here but at least now she had another to absorb the brunt of the all too human wall before her. She let the other woman lead the way, shoving and berating herself through the crowd. It was amazing how quickly people got out of the way of a harrying young woman on a staunch mission to impress someone. She would have to try that next time she knew, making a mental note of the way Carole convincingly conveyed hysterical wrath – eyes wide and mouth stretching to its fullest as she screamed at the blockers.

Time to see if she is worth even the little she says she is worth she told herself, in some ways she hoped the girl was. She needed company at least for when Fallon was busy – she spent too many Bells away from the world.

by **Zandelia** on May 14th, 2014, 10:09 pm

It was a short period of time between when the crowds started parting in the face of Carole’s offensive and the moment in which Davra’s stall came into view, coalescing out of the throng as if it had passed through a heat wave and suddenly become visible. She looked at Carole, noted the almost desperate desire to be seen as worthy, or perhaps it was that she had few other options to gain ascendancy within the world and she saw Zandelia as they steps upon which to place her feet. It mattered little truly, at this stage she would take what she could get – the professionals would come alter once her position had become entrenched and the Scars were better able to support her affairs, or vice versa.

“That him?” she asked the younger woman simply, watching the stall and the man behind it. He was raven-like in all respects she thought. Protruding chest f self-importance, huge hooked nose and flinty eyes that darted and sought out business around him.

“Yes, that’s Davra. Decent man, wants to get on in the world mostly. Trusted by many, if not the influential” Carole informed her.

“What did I say about sentiment? His motivations mean little unless they can be used. He is a good merchant then? Knows many people I imagine?”

“Well yes, he gets steady business sand his prices are fa-“

“Good, then he is useful. Eyes and ears are pointless unless they are amidst enough to gain decent information. How do you think we should proceed?” she asked the girl.

“Why ask me? You’re the expert!”

“Yes I am but that isn’t the point, I want to know how you would proceed. Consider it another test”

As she let the younger woman think through her choices Zandelia watched the stall, noting the steady flow of custom that had been claimed for the man. She also saw how, for the most part, they all seemed to smile at him. He didn’t just sell his wares – though he did seem relatively gifted at such things from the coin shifting between sweaty palms – he talked to them. She smiled at that, he was her kind of tool and that stood him in good store. Talking and cultivating bonds with others, however trivial, was a sound practise and meant that he could call upon those threads if she asked him to pluck them. She could get him to play the chords and tease out information. Or spread misinformation easily enough by planting the seeds into the minds of his customers. Already she saw two uses for him and had not even met him personally. She doubted that he would overly loyal but then she could work on that – his kind worked in debts and ledgers and those were easily understood by all. If he owed her he would do what she wanted him to or suffer the consequences.

“Ask him the guard names and if he knows where they work or play” came the final answer.

“Sure about that one?”

“I…was”

“Then you were wrong Carole, poor little dear”

“Don’t call em that!” she hissed, “fine! What would you do?”

“What am I doing?”

“Looking”

“No…observing”

“Same thing!” Carole protested.

“No, it isn’t. Looking means you just glance but I have looked deeper. I have seen that he is a good choice because he has qualities that are useful and I didn’t even meet him. If you want to learn then you should start with observing…as I stated. Learn to read beyond what others see and you will be surprised what you will learn” she stated with a sigh, Carole thought simply as did many others in Sunberth it seemed, “come on. I want to meet this Davra” she began to step forwards slowly.

As she approached she reflected that he also had a third quality that she would not have thought of before were it not for the time she had spent with Fallon and the philosophies that she imparted and believed in intensely. He was a reputable man with an honest nature – if one could be called honest in Sunberth and if observation and second-hand words could be used to gage properly. That, in itself, was something to be admired and sadly something to be used also. The syndicates had been dismantled and no one had cared enough to fight to keep them together. The Scars needed more than that, they needed to be seen as something the people of the city could believe in. She couldn’t do that as a whole…but piecemeal was possible.

Let’s say Is tart with the Network, it will be made up of normal people as a base and this gives us a connection to the people in itself. They may not know it is the Scars but we can use them. Good men and women within the web, positioned well, could balance our reputation and give us grounding from which to build. Something at least… she mused as she finally came within speaking distance of the man and gave him a friendly, warm smile.

“Davra!” she spoke as if they were old acquaintances met after a long absence.

“Do I know you miss?” he asked her with confusion.

“Not yet, but you will be happy that you will soon”

“Why’s that?”

“Tell me,” she waved her hand to dismiss his question for now, “do you know what’s interesting about dogs?”

“What? No! Wait…is this some sort of scam?”

“What’s interesting is that they are usually very loyal. But…every so often…one turns on its owner. Sets a bad example to the pack if there are others so they might turn too, you see. Pack animals, much like humans actually. Do you know what they do to such rebellious canines?” she stepped forwards and with an encouraging nod shook his hand and led him to one side of his stall, out of the way and so they could talk in relative privacy.

“Um…well…I thought they put them down didn’t they?” Davra responded, finally summoning up some composure and looking her in the eye with rapidly gathering stability.

“Exactly so,” she smiled and slipped and arm around his shoulder, “but the real question is…who puts them down?”

by **Zandelia** on May 14th, 2014, 11:05 pm

It had been some time spent in conversation before Davra had seen fit to at least be open to the idea that – if it came to it – his guardsmen would need to be disposed of and even more time for the idea of collateral damage to seep into his mind and the list to possibly include some of his own wares. Surprisingly Carole’s word actually helped to sway things in Zandelia’s favour and that was a small blessing for the girl as it meant curiosity now existed within Zandelia’s mind about how many others she knew well enough to attempt to sway in the direction that was desired. The younger woman didn’t know it, she was just trying to be helpful, which was good as it meant she would continue to try harder to please and thus expose her abilities further for assessment.

Cruel, perhaps, but she asks for something precious and so only the worthy can be considered. She needs to show me she is worthy and so far…well she has a little way to go yet. Doing okay though, competent enough and she thinks just not the right way. She can be trained but raw ability counts for much she told herself as she watched her argue with Davra yet again.

“But they want to rob you Davra! Take everything!” she groaned with frustration.

“They are still people. I can’t just let you ki-“

“They will kill you if you don’t do what they want you to!”

“Carole…be quiet,” she held up her hand, “and go and watch for signs of these mercenaries. Go on. No! No arguments or you can take your pretty arse and work the whorehouses for you won’t get help from me further” she stared at her, held the gaze without blinking until she had stared her down.

She watched the girl look aside, cheeks red with embarrassment at being cowed perhaps, and sighed deeply form her spot leaning against the wall behind the stall. She allowed the silence to extend as she pulled out her pipe and thumbed some tobacco into the bowl and looked at Davra expectantly as she placed it in her mouth. He provided a light from the lantern he brazier he had keeping the cooked meats he was selling warm – and himself rather toasty she presumed too. She drew in as she closed her eye, relished the small buzzing rush it gave her, and considered the man. The conversation had started well enough. He had told her of his little problem, one amongst many he had divulged without even asking. Yet he was a good man and didn’t want them killed, despite their obvious treachery and desperation. He held moral principles but lacked the ruthlessness to disregard them where appropriate. He was, as she liked to think, one of those people.

He complains and yet isn’t willing to accept a solution because he thinks the world has rules. He believes that morality exists in a city that would slit his throat. He is a contradiction and what makes him useful proves a weakness as well. We need to get past this if he can be used effectively she thought to herself as she pondered a path forwards.

“You are a good man Davra, yes?”

“I try to be”

“Yet you are protecting evil men who, if they aren’t disposed of by myself for you, will likely end up killing others. Robbing them. Destroying their livelihoods. Correct?”

“Possibly but I can’t be held responsible for their deaths”

“You won’t be, they might not even have to die. If they see reason of course. I can make it so they learn a lesson instead, perhaps change their ways. I do not list probabilities because they are certain but because…sometimes…they become the only resolution”

“So…you’re saying that if they choose to listen…then they will live?”

“Yes, possibly. I am a problem solver, I solve the problems. I take the world as it is, not how it should be. That I leave for people like yourself Davra, the honest people. Sometimes, to build something good the bad must be broken yes?”

“But they don’t have to die?” he asked her again, his mind was definitely hung up on that particular point.

“No, but if they say…attack me…you expect me to let them kill me?”

“Of course not!” he began to protest.

“So, in point of fact, in this scenario killing them is okay if necessary. Correct?”

“Yes, but…”

“Excellent, then we have nothing to worry about do we? Now, I need their names, descriptions, the location of your storage warehouse and their abilities” she told him.

“Abilities?”

“Yes, as in how good they are at fighting, guarding and so on. Do they have any enemies?”

“What? No I don’t think so”

“Pity..w.ell we will see what can be done. Carole!”

“What do you want Web?” she asked her testily as she returned from her watchful post.

“Be a good little girl and get the information we need”

“What is that then?”

“A test!” she grinned broadly and continued to smoke upon her pipe as the display unfolded before her.

Carole was feisty and spirited, both points to the positive, but she managed to bite her tongue with a glare that Zandelia just chuckled around her pipe stem at before beginning the questioning. She followed the logical progression of names, descriptions, strengths, weaknesses. She picked up on the fact that their abilities and whom the general elader was could be useful. She did ask about what allies they had but missed the enemies – it was of little consequence and could be unearthed later. All in all Zandelia was approving of her choice of questions, what she lacked in observational talent she seemed to make up with in tactical thinking. She had the mind to create what Zandelia thought of as the entrapping sphere and that was essential if she wished to learn. All in all, as Davra began to become impatient, they held enough information to get the job done.

“You missed one thing lass”

“Oh…what? Crone”

“Price” Davra stated flatly as Zandelia raised an eyebrow at Carole until the girl had the decency to look at least a little bashful.

“Yes, price. I set the terms easily enough. You will gather information for me, pass on anything of note or of special interest. You will spread what rumours I ask you to spread for my own reasons. You will watch, listen and wait for instructions. You will also provide me with expenses”

“To the sum of?”

“Fifty gold, a small price for such work”

“Fifty?! And do you want my shirt too!? What do I get out of thid deal then? I could hire mercenaries for half that!” Davra protested.

“Oh so you aren’t so innocent after all? You get your problem solved, and all future problems solved and o case-by-case basis. You fall under my protection, the protection of Web. Don’t you understand yet Davra? I can make your issues dissolve. Do you accept the terms?”

“If you get the job done…very well. But one condition”

“Which is?”

“That I can choose not to fulfil any orders if they involve killing another. And that you will do your best not to kill in my favour”

“Very well, we have an accord” she spat on her palm and shook Davra’s hand as he repeated the motion.

“A question,” Davra asked her quietly as she began to walk away, she paused and looked back voer her shoulder and knew what he was going to ask, “what would have happened had I refused after telling you everything? After knowing of you and your services?”

She let the silence draw out to an appropriately dramatic length before responding over her shoulder, voice pitched as if it were nothing at all in the world.

“I told you, I solve problems. They include my own. Good day Davra, try not to get killed whilst I am working on yours. Two days” she concluded their meeting and Carole followed her back into the crowd.

by **Zandelia** on May 15th, 2014, 12:29 am

“Did…did you just threaten him Web?! The man we’re supposed to help!” Carole’s voice jabbed at her shoulders as her arms slipped outwards to help her slide through the crowds, following the direction of the warehouses – their next target.

“No, he threatened himself. I merely provided…reinforcement”

“A threat you mean!”

“Incentive, to make sure he thinks himself vulnerable”

“So…he thinks you will kill him if he refuses…but you won’t…”

“Good, now you’re thinking. And?” she stopped and turned to face the woman now as the people continued to shift and flow around their little island of isolated stillness.

“It’s all in his head! You just played him like a lyre with his own help!”

“Most things are inside other people’s heads, the trick is to be able to use it properly. With Davra I didn’t even need to try as he formed the threat himself. I won’t kill him, won’t even touch him. I need him actually, but he thinks I will. For now. It will buy enough time to create a more permanent leash for him” she stared into Carole’s eye and whirled around once more to continue walking.

“So by not denying something you actually confirm it. In his mind. But why do you need a leash?”

“Because people are bastards and even the good ones can be used against you. He won’t kill me but he may learn, over time, enough to be used against me. Let’s say he gets captured for example, interrogated…what’s to stop him from giving me up? Or your name, or anyone else he comes into contact with who worked for me?”

“What does now…or soon?” she asked quietly.

“His family”

“Family” she stated flatly.

“Yes, he has at least one child given the charcoal drawing with the title Dad on it that you missed stuck to the back of his stall. Which means he probably has a wife too given the fact that he still makes an effort to keep groomed. He looks after himself,” she growled at her, she knew what was meant she was just too cowardly to admit it and the fact that Zandelia herself would never stoop so low in actuality was an annoying mirror, “so he will be quietly warned that I know where they live, what they sped their day doing and some of the things that could happen to them should he choose to betray”

“His family? Like that?” she could hear the recrimination in Carole’s tone of voice and she turned once more to grab her by her badly died, dirty clothing and pull her so they were nose to nose.

“It’s an imperfect city but it’s the only one we have Carole, the day that it stops being a living Hai for everyone and starts handing around flowers and being loving I will choose more pleasant methods. If you don’t like it then retreat back to your alleyways and leave the big streets to those who live in the real world” she hissed, glaring at her and summoning up a ruthless vindictiveness that she didn’t truly feel deep down. Yet she couldn’t appear to be weak and so strode onwards with the charade nevertheless.

She pressed onwards until they finally managed to get to the warehouses and she entered the first broad street there, almost an alleyway but not quite. It was one of the central dirt tracks which the smaller ones branched off into the shadows from. She heard the continued tread of Carole’s boots behind her and so knew she was still following – if silently. She could not blame the girl, it was a hard life to be an Intelligencer. There were no stories written about them, no noble fables. People already knew they were vagiks and condemned them to the side of the villain more often than note. Until they were needed…then they were a mighty friend. It amused her sometimes, how fickle things could be.

“He did say third warehouse down, the rear section on the right corner did he not?” she asked the silent watcher of her spine, “did he not?!” she asked once more when no response came.

“Yes” came the curt response.

“Good, glad that you decided to join me once more. Come, let us inspect this warehouse and see if we can’t find some nice places to secrete some people to watch, learn and lay a trap for our prey” she almost purred then and led the way towards their destination.

The game was afoot and, for now, the world seemed so much more alive than it had done a few Bells before. As they passed a multitude of other entrances she could see a pattern in even the haphazard architecture of the area. Built, destroyed and rebuilt warehouses still held most things in common. Simple boxes, firmly secured and protected. No guards about now of course, not until the evening. She looked around after arriving and liked what she saw.

“our men Davra said?”

“Yes, all of them decent guards but not the strongest or most skilled”

“Yes, he can’t afford the best guards, but he can afford the best Web. So they will probably be lazy. Standard guard positions…see the two crates?”

“The ones either side of the door with smaller ones around them?”

“That’s right, anything seem familiar about them?”

“Well…kind of look like seats and a table if you tilt your head and kind of-“

“Correct! They probably spend a lot of their shift sitting and drinking. Gambling perhaps. We can use that. Over there…easy to see through now but when it’s dark…shadowed. There, there and there” she gestured to an alley opposite the door that was narrow between two tall warehouses, a corner some score of paces away of another building to the right and to the left what she thought was the remains of an old well shaft.

“Okay, so three places and two of us. So…”

“Yes, we will need another. Come, we will find this third and then, tomorrow, we will have some fun. For tonight I will plan. You will learn something new about each of the four men”

“WHAT!?” he exclaimed in protestation.

“You want to learn, to be a mentee? Do as you are told and ask questions later. Go” she flicked her hand away and Carole stood there, flexing her fingers for a while staring into he middle distance.

Zandelia was patient and waited pointedly for her to leave, the huffing was expected. She was too much like Zandelia had been at her age, minus the dead eye and a much bitchier temperament.

Zandelia smiled.

by **Ablation** on May 24th, 2014, 3:20 pm

Zandelia :

Please don't be afraid to PM me with any questions ^-^ and please don't forget to remove your grading request from the list to keep My office spick and span.

Solo The Castle Commons Conspiracy I [Job Thread]