Closed Dark Trilogy III - A Dark Assignment (Brandon)

[Sal Mander]

"A splendid choice dear," Riptide proclaimed as Brandon announced his retreat. Thankfully he refrained from placing a hand on the bat's thigh again, though he cast a lingering and approving gaze that was as successful at making Bran uncomfortable. Meanwhile the game continued with the final two cards being flipped over in the middle. Various sets of eyes flicked from the cards to each other, trying to search for any clue of strong or weak hands, now that the full arsenal of cards was available.

While Brandon watched on intently, the secrets of Stammer and Blush were unwilling to be shaken free so easily. The rounds of betting continued, with raises and calls, before the pirate woman folded her hand, leaving Altman and Tally to battle out the first round. However, when Altman pushed in a tall column of coins in a display of confidence, Burton Tally threw in his hand after a moment or two considering the call. The round went to Altman, his personal supply of coins having improved. Burton Tally seemed unaffected by the loss, and Sal wondered if he might have just been allowing Altman to gain in confidence in these early stages.

It was at that point, while cards were dealt for the next hand and antes placed before the players, that Sal noticed for the first time a figure sitting in one, poorly lit corner. The shadow had been sitting so still that it had until now gone unnoticed. Such was the dim light in that corner of the room that the person must have selected to sit there deliberately. Sal could not make out the features of the person, but they seemed to be light and thin of frame, possibly very short. The figure had long hair, left open and free falling so that it masked the person's face. The only thing that stood out was the glint of candlelight that flickered in those eyes, ever watchful and alert.

Though he could not put his finger on it, there was something about that figure that put Sal at unease. Something did not quite sit right, and as if his thoughts had been out loud, he noticed two of Burton's three men in the room talking in hushed tones and looking over at the figure. If the person knew they were being watched, they made no movement or gesture, instead remained eerily still like a carved statue.

The next hand was underway, Brandon still non the wiser about the rules or gameplay, while any further help from Sal was not forthcoming as the investigator's attention was elsewhere. Had Brandon noticed, he would have seen Sal's look of concentration, locked in on something across the room. The bat's eyes followed in the direction Sal was looking. There was a figure in the corner, now standing, but not moving. To either side of the figure were two more, Burton's men to be precise. They looked like they were taking naps, slumped as they were on the bench, either side of where the figure now stood.

Burton's third man had moved towards the figure, before he too suddenly felt compelled to take a seat, sliding back against a wall and slowly to the floor. Brandon had been seated where he and Riptide had a decent view of this, although it had all taken place in the dark corner of the large room, and without any sound. Sal had taken to his feet, backing up cautiously while keeping his eyes on the figure who remained stood still. Burton, Altman and Marion Moore had as yet no idea what was going on, instead all still intently concentrating on the game.

Before Brandon could think to move or speak, he felt a hand on his thigh again, realizing that Riptide had leaned in a little closer so that he was almost whispering in his ear. "You should tell your man there to relax. I assure you, you're both quite safe." With that, he gave Brandon a knowing wink. However, unlike his playful banter up until now, there seemed to be a more genuine and honest tone to his voice, like something was about to happen.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Riptide's piercing gaze made Brandon wonder if he had truly made the right choice. While he couldn't deny that the captain seemed to be extremely confident when it came to this game, while Brandon had not one bit of it. Anything else wouldn't be a problem, but this? If he had known the rules and practiced a bit, he might have been able to keep calm and relax a bit... However, he did realize that his nervous demeanor might be the perfect disguise. No one would ever expect a guy who didn't have the faintest clue of how to play this game to be an undercover thief who was here to run off with some coin. On the other hand, he wasn't quite sure how believable it was that someone who couldn't play Stammer and Blush had agreed to this game. Well, he would find out sooner or later anyway, if there was anything he had learned in his short three seasons of thievery, it was that nothing along the lines of his current activities could go without a few bumps in the road. No matter how you looked at things, these would be huge bumps. Something could go wrong any time, but that was exactly what made it so attractive.

The rounds continued, the three leftover players not ceasing to raise the money to be bet, but really learning from it the bat did not. All of them kept their face as emotionless as possible, or just refrained from showing any other expression than there had been on their face all along. Surprisingly enough though, Altman won the round, claiming all the coins for himself, adding them to his already large stack. The merchant's victory however taught Brandon one thing: you could win without having to use the card in your hand or on the table. If you could scare your opponent so they gave up, you would win. However, if it failed and your cards were somehow not as good as your foe's, you were petched. Risky.

New cards were dealt to the players, and new ones were placed in the middle of the table, four of them revealed immediately. Goddess of peonies, five of crystals, two of peaks and ten of peonies. The other two remained a mystery. Brandon('s hand contained only peonies; the Sun and Moon, the Okomo and the Anchorite. Was that bad? Was it good? He did not have a clue! Sal's help would be a gift of the gods right now, but when Brandon glanced at his 'bodyguard', Sal was staring at a rather dark corner of the room. Much to the bat's surprise, said corner housed a shady figure, and a couple of Burton's men who 'subtly' were approaching the person, though it was rather obvious to anyone watching what they were planning to do. Why? Because they hadn't been anywhere near that place last time he'd laid eyes on those three.

Jaw somewhat tightened, Sal stood up and backed up a bit, though appearing a bit unsure of what the right approach was. A frown graced Bran's brow, one he pretended to be aimed at his cards, which was partly true. Urged by Burton, he placed a bet, which Altman proudly raised with a grin on his face that would have put a greedy tax collector to shame. The feeling of a hand on his thigh drew the bat's attention away from both the game and the situation unfolding in the corner. Riptide had leaned in and quietly whispered something in his ear before withdrawing and winking in response to the thief's raised eyebrow.

There was no telling just how honest Riptide was, and how much he could be trusted, but it wasn't a bad idea to tell Sal to return to his seat. The problem was how to draw his attention without being too suspicious. He could just call him, but the use of his real name was a bad idea if things went south, and he probably wouldn't react to any fake name Brandon would give him. Unless of course he picked up on the bat's voice and intentions. However, in this state it was doubtful Sal would be focusing on anything else than the scene in front of his eyes... What to do, what to do.

Well, his drink had been finished, so he could go for another to the bar, but there was a waiter there, and leaving was probably the same as forfeiting the round. However, that didn't mean he couldn't use his drink to give Sal instructions. Well, it would be by proxy, but still. A gesture to the bartender summoned the man to his side, asking what he needed. “A honeyed whiskey,” Brandon stated, “And give Dolph there-” he gestured in the general direction of Sal, “-one too. Tell him to get back to his seat and watch me win this round. I can feel it, this is my moment.” The thief gave a large grin and the waiter nodded as he strode back to the bar to do as instructed. Brandon hoped this was subtle enough... was it even necessary to do it subtly?

Altman's voice then forced the attention to his person, rhetorically asking with his trademark smirk: “Feeling confident, eh? Don't get your hopes up, you might just find them shattered in no time!” A fit of laughter followed after that, one Brandon nervously joined in on. No matter what he stated, there was no way he could feel confident in a situation like this.

May Ovek grant me his favor... I'll need it.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Sal Mander]

What a fine mess the two had weaseled their way into. It had all started days ago, Sal having sought out an ally in Brandon in order to infiltrate a card game and steal the winnings. Not just any card game of course. That simply would not do for Sal and Brandon. Oh no. It had to be the most notorious card game in the city, hosted by one of the most notorious villains that resided in it. As for the motive of their intended thievery, it was to reclaim that which had been unfairly taken from a friend of Sal's, an earlier participant of the card game that had learned first hand that the game was fixed.

Having traversed the murky waters of subterfuge, bypassing a rich merchant and his pet jamoura along the way - not to mention Brandon's unlawful acquisition of a suitable disguise - Sal and Bran now found themselves in a poorly lit room at the back of a drinking establishment, where within they shared drinks with Burton Tally himself. The viper's nest. The lion's den. Whatever you wanted to call it, Sal and Bran were there.

At some point, the plan had been to get back the money lost by Sal's friend. But the actual means of doing so had never really presented themselves. True, there had been much in the way of work in getting themselves into the game, a feat worthy of a retelling or two over drinks in the future no doubt, but now that they were here it was hard to figure out what they would do next. Burton had surrounded himself with his minions, three in the room, one on the other side of the door, and who knew how many outside. The two men that had escorted Sal and Brandon were out there for sure, and possibly further pairs had been sent to collect the other players earlier in the evening. But also there were the two ship captains and the merchant, each who had brought one of their own men for protection, should events unfold in such a way that their talents and services would be required. So exactly how then were Sal and Brandon planning to leave the establishment with a full purse of one thousand kina in their pockets?

But situations could change. They were filled with factors, conditions, participants and so forth, any and all of which could change and alter under the direction of time itself. Underdogs could rise to ascendancy, while sure bets were left wanting. There were a lot of moving parts, leaving it hard to guess just what might happen next. In such a case as this, a man could only rely on his ability to think fast and act accordingly. Maybe that was the true essence of survival. Be the first one to react in the right way.

The waiter had returned to the bar, sharing a word with a clearly startled Sal who spun around in a comical fashion. Being startled seemed to return his attention to the wider picture of events unfolding in the room, but yet he kept glancing across to the dark corner where the one figure stood, Burton's three men sitting around him slumped down against the wall. Before long the waiter had brought Sal two glasses, one which the investigator downed in one go in an attempt to take the edge off his nerves. The other one he brought to Brandon, placing it on the table as he leaned forward, whispering for Bran's ear alone, "We need to get out of here!"

_____"ENOUGH," Burton Tally roared as he slammed his fist on the table, sending various stacks of coins tumbling as a result. An immediate silence swept through the room, all eyes now fixed on Burton, trying to ascertain the reason for this outburst. Much to Sal's displeasure, Burton turned his rat gaze to him, a look of true anger slapped across the villain's face. "You are forfeited from this hand. Nobody is allowed to approach the table unless it's between hands," he said firmly. Indeed, it was a valid rule, since otherwise player's bodyguards could effectively see another player's cards and report their findings to their masters.

Sal retreated from the table with his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "My apologies. I was merely delivering my master's drink, since your waiter apparently was too lazy to do it himself." The waiter offered his protests, sending a hate filled glance at Sal for the man's treachery. But Burton silenced him with the wave of a hand, before clicking his fingers.
_____"Demitrus. Make sure this buffoon follows the rules next time. Demitrus? Don't make me get out of my seat you petching shyke."

Burton turned his gaze across the room, trying to find where his man Demitrus had gotten to. In fact he was trying to see where any of his men were, none of them in plain sight. Eventually he noted the three figures slumped across the room. While their faces were hidden in the dark corner, he swallowed in his throat, suspecting that something was amiss. He turned his attention back to the table, slowly laying his cards down on the table and then subtly moving his hands under it. "So," he spat out in a venomous tone, "treachery is at hand. Which one of you son's of an okomo is it? Huh? Well speak up then. Let's get this over with."

There was another pause, the other players all looking from one to another, as if this was merely another hand in the game, each person trying to spot a bluff from the others. They even glanced at Brandon too, trying to decide if he was the one behind this apparent 'treachery'. But before long, all eyes rested on Riptide. He had remained casually seated in that dismissive way, as if he had not a care in the world. And while the others had been looking around at the other players, Riptide had never taken his gaze off of Burton for a second. Burton himself finally clued in, at first a slight look of surprise on his face, quickly replaced by one of concentration.

Without warning, Burton sprung into action like a deadly snake, pushing back his chair and flipping the table over in front of him in one fluid motion. Coins scattered everywhere, while everyone was forced to try avoid the table themselves. Riptide easily slipped from his chair and took a step back. Marion Moore fell back in her chair, landing with a plop on her back, before rolling away and onto her feet with the agility of a cat. Somewhere in all that, she had managed to produce a blade, no mean feat considering she was clad in a most skimpy outfit. Altman meanwhile had no such grace, instead sitting there like a lemon as the table flipped over and landed on him, knocking him back and landing in a pile, surrounded by coins and cards.

As everyone came to their senses and looked to see what would happen next, their eyes fell on Burton Tally once more. Only this time, he was stood there helpless, while a cloaked figure stood behind him, a wire wrapped around the villain's throat. It was the same figure that Sal had witnessed drop those three men earlier without hardly an effort. Riptide held up a hand, signalling for the figure to halt for the moment. The salty seadog stepped forward, producing a dagger of his own which he waved in front of Burton menacingly. All the while he wore that devious smile, one displayed by a man who knew he had the upper hand. "So Mr. Tally. While don't we let our mutual friends here in on your little secret, eh?"

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Truthfully, Brandon had not considered that Sal coming to the table would cause problems. Not that he had actually expected the man to come at all, but from them investigator’s quick words and the tone they were whispered with, Brandon could tell the man was not at ease at all. The message to get out of the place was evidence of the fact that the man from the Cosmos center had either become scared, or he had analyzed the situation and determined there was no walking out of here alive. The latter was not a concern of Brandon’s, the bat was confident in his own abilities; quick on his feet and with experience in combat, the thief wasn’t overly worried. He was sure he could hold his own, if chaos should spread through the back room.

Besides, if things went south and a fight broke loose, it was most likely to be one big brawl, where the bodyguards assisted their benefactors and fought everyone else. Utter chaos, and a great distraction. Escaping would be not that much of a problem. However, that did not mean that the thief wasn’t startled when Tally slammed his fist on the table, causing Bran’s coin castle to collapse. The sudden roar was enough to make Brandon fall backwards to the ground, with chair and everything. Yet, the lines the villain spouted only enticed some anger in the thief in response, not fear or whatever the man wanted him to feel.

Brandon slapped both his hands on the table, and stood up, shoving his chair back with the motion and was ready to hurl anger-filled lines at the host of the game when Sal decided to back down, though not without a sharp comment about the man’s personnel. Though Brandon approved of this, he’d wanted to chew the man out himself, instead, he could only glare at Tally as the rat-faced crook silenced his waiter and called for another of his servants. Yet, the man did not reply, and when Burton Tally glanced in the direction of his men, the thief noticed him becoming rather uncomfortable. Venomous words were spat and glares darted from one face to another, and while Brandon already knew who exactly Tally’s words were meant for, Riptide was the last one his gaze rested upon, for he had to meet Burton’s stare and glare right back, still standing.

The table-flip was a surprise, one felt before seen really, as Brandon’s hands had still been resting on top of it. Legs launched him backwards instantly, out of the table’s way and back into his chair, which was in the way. The impact made it tilt, falling backwards with the bat in it, slamming onto the floor. He had lifted his head though, making sure he wouldn’t be rewarded with a concussion for his clumsiness. Slowly he crawled back to his feet, somehow having managed to appear as a second Altman in his lack of grace. It mattered little, for now, his disguise was still intact, which would not have been the case if he had … say, back-flipped out of harm’s way.

In the meantime, the event had taken another twist, now displaying Tally as a captive and Riptide as the one in control, with the mysterious figure being the one who was holding Tally in place, a wire around the criminal’s neck. Paying attention was not on Brandon’s list at the moment, instead, he was thinking of a way he could gather as many coins as he could, stuff them back in a pouch and leave without attracting the attention of the others present. Sadly, he found none. Well, then there was no other option to just try and get away, it seemed, even though the current situation did appear to be rather interesting. However, a thief needed to know when it was time to retreat, and this was such a time, so the bat slowly moved backwards to the door.

Sounds could be heard from the other side of the wood; shuffling footsteps approaching, whispered instructions and the noise of blades being drawn. Brandon’s eyes drifted to the handle, which was slowly starting to angle downwards, and back to the portal in front of him. An escape seemed pretty much impossible, then what was he to do? More time to think the bat wasn’t given, as the door was pulled open with a forceful jerk, and the man who’d been guarding the entrance when Sal and Brandon had arrived spearheaded a small group of other villainous scum, the two men who’d escorted the investigator and thief duo among them. The first thing Bran thought of when confronted with a big guy hoping to pass through a doorframe with sword in hand? Well, he did not think at all, he just reacted, and that reaction was a throat strike in this case, followed by a kick to the chest that sent the man stumbling backwards, driving the others that stood behind him back into the pub.

Wanting to close the door, Brandon reached for the handle and pulled it towards him as fast as he could, slamming it back shut and using both hands to hold the handle in its position, so the reinforcements wouldn’t be able to make it through. “Hey! If you lot are done standing around like some band of braindead idiots, I could use some help!” Brandon yelled at the bodyguards and Sal, who had been standing around all surprised with their hands on their weapons. It was pointless though, not even five ticks after the words had left his mouth, Brandon’s hands were forced downwards, along with the knob of the door, and to prevent being dragged into the other room, the bat had to let go. About nine of Tally’s men slipped inside, taking in the scene for a moment and then started approaching.

In need of a weapon, Brandon drew the dagger dangling at his hip, and slowly backed away, towards Riptide and the other players, blade pointing at the crowd of brigands that had suddenly appeared. Upon glancing over his shoulder for a split-tick, the thief noticed Burton Tally was grinning widely, hands still pulling the wire around his neck, but he was grinning nonetheless. Obviously, the crook believed that he was once more the one in control, but this illusion was shattered mercilessly by Riptide whose expression read “Not impressed”. A simple gesture was made to his henchman, who then tightened the wire around Tally’s neck ever so slightly, but more than enough to cut off his breath. ”Order your men to stand down,” the flamboyant Captain demanded.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Sal Mander]

Sal watched as his friend made for the exit, realizing that this was most likely the best idea given the current situation. Yet while his mind yelled this very observation, his body seemed to be rooted to the spot, unsure and uneasy as instead he watched the hooded figure, Burton Tally, and Riptide. The latter was parading up and down with a gloating expression on his face, glad to have Burton as his prisoner while also having not lifted a finger to capture him himself. Indeed, the hooded figure had taken care of that for him, just as they had already dropped three of Burton's men as though it has been no effort at all.

Eyes cast back towards Sal's escaping friend, noticing that now he was trying to keep the door shut as shouts rose up from the other side. There was a real sense of chaos around the room, as the occupants scurried around. Marion Moore had taken to a safe corner, sided by her bodyguard in the form of another svefra sailor. Meanwhile Johnson Altman's man was helping the fallen gambler to his feet, while clearly unsure as to whether the men coming through the door were here to help or hinder him. As for Brandon, he had since relinquished his hold on the door, instead retreating back into the room after having delivered a particularly nasty throat attack at the first man unfortunate enough to enter first.

Nine burly looking thugs in total filtered in, clutching a variety of blades and blunt instruments of death. Only their scars and scowls were more menacing. Meanwhile Burton had worn a momentary smug expression of his own, though no sooner had he dared to assume impending victory that the hooded figure behind him tightened the grip on the wire around his neck. Riptide then ordered the rat featured man to tell his minions to stand down, a demand that was met for the moment with silence.

In that silence, the final movements of people getting into position unfolded. On one side of the room by the entrance, the nine thugs fanned out in a row. Across from them on the other side were Marion, Altman, Riptide and Brandon, and the bodyguard each had brought with them. Completing the ensemble was Tally himself, while now ducked down behind the bar was the waiter, clearly intent on having no part in this. Between the two groups lay the upturned table, while cards and coins lay scattered and discarded. It was almost as though it was the prize, laying in wait to be claimed by whoever would win this encounter.

Suddenly there was movement. In an instance, Burton Tally demonstrated he was no easy target. Indeed, the man would not have ascended to his throne by employing mean thugs alone. In a persuasive display of strength, he started running backwards, literally lifting the hooded figure a few inches off the ground. Before the figure could react, they were slammed hard into the bar, hard enough to force their grip to release from the wire. In seconds, Burton had spun around now that he was free, before producing a dagger from the gods knew where, and slit the figure's throat. Crimson gushed from the wound, despite the figure's protestations in the form of a gurgle. The force of been thrown against the bar had knocked the hood back, revealing a young woman's face, perhaps once pretty but now contorted in surprise. For all her earlier effectiveness in taking out three thugs, she had proved little match for Burton Tally himself.

With a sneer, Tally turned around with a renewed smirk on his face. He did not seem phased at all that his new enemies were between him and his men. Instead he snarled at Riptide, almost like a dog in contrast to his rat features. "Ohh, you're going to have to do better than that, pretty boy." With that, he flipped over the bar and out of sight, leaving Riptide to run to the woman and cradle her in his arms. Before anyone could think what to do, attentions were drawn back to the more pressing problem at the door. The nine thugs were either grinning wide, or staring manically at the prospect of some blood letting. It was nine against seven, now that Riptide's bodyguard was out of the fight. Though for any neutrals watching, they might have said five instead of seven. Altman was cowering behind his bodyguard, who did not seem at all thrilled to be performing to the very extent of his duties. Meanwhile, Riptide was more intent on the woman than the thugs about to close in.

Sal had come to stand by Brandon, his voice low and for the bat's ears only. "So, I know you hate it when I say this, but I have a plan. Slight catch though. Going to need you to buy me some time."

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The silence following Riptide’s demand did not sound all that great in Brandon’s ears. One would expect that someone like Tally would value his life and give up in an effort to prolong it. Clearly they had been underestimating the rat-faced criminal. Within a couple ticks the man had freed himself and declined the numbers of his enemies by one –or two if you counted the shocked Riptide among those rendered unable to fight- and disappeared from sight, joining the waiter behind the bar. With an expression that might have been a mixture between genuine fear and concentration, Brandon assessed the situation as calm as possible –which wasn’t really calm at all- mind racing and dark orbs darting around.

Riptide’s guard was down, the Captain himself kneeling by her side and cradling her as if lulling her to sleep, Marion Moore and her henchman seemed prepared to fight off anyone willing to come close enough. Who else was there? Two cowards, both merchant and mercenary, hoping to stay out of sight and as far away from the thugs as possible, and then there was Sal. Brandon cursed internally, it was reflected in his expression for once as he realized he had to face nine thugs by himself. Unless of course Marion decided that staying put in a corner was not safe at all, or maybe when Sal could stop the trembling of his knees and figure out some way to be of help. Not that Brandon was one to speak about trembling; his breath came out while his jaw shivered, and his knees did not feel all that stable either. However, that was because of the adrenaline, he told himself. It wasn’t like he was not scared at all, no, but cowering behind someone’s back, hugging the far wall was not going to solve the situation either.

Fortunately, Sal did seem to have recovered, whispering something about a plan and the need for more time. It earned a grumble from Brandon’s part, who grunted a reply before shifting his attention back to the approaching thugs. “It’d better be a great plan.” Needless to say, it was impossible for a lone bat to manage to hold off a group of nine, and thus fighting was out of the question. Instead, he chose to try his luck with words. “Hey,” he spoke, addressing the crowd of brigands, “How much does Tally pay you? I have a deal for you; you leave, and you get a nice reward of as many Kina you can carry!” he gestured in the direction of the scattered coins. “What do you say? Not a bad deal eh?”

Too bad for Brandon, only one person found his deal tempting enough to start filling his pockets with money. Said person even got an axe in his back as a bonus, slain by one of his own. “We ‘ave no need for your filzy deals,” spoke the owner of the axe, “Monsigneur Tally does not like ze traitors. Should we take your money, we would ‘ave to face ‘is wrath.” The statement was accompanied by extensive nodding from the thugs, who were, despite the words of their spokesman, eyeing the abundance of coin with greedy eyes. “Zat does not mean ‘owever zat we cannot kill you lot and take ze money!” Loud yelling agreed with him, a battle cry was screamed and the brigands charged, the more cowardly among them waiting for a bit, not all that enthusiastic, but planning on profiting off the acts of their comrades, while in the meantime filling their pockets anyway, courageous enough to do so now the axe-man was preoccupied.

Backing off a bit, Brandon could only ask Sal if he was done yet with whatever it was he had been plotting, before two bandits approached. Despite his efforts to prevent this, the two had managed to come from two different sides, weapons ready to strike. One swung his club in a horizontal arch, aimed for the bat’s head, while the other heaved his broadsword high above his scalp, planning to cleave Brandon in half. Slow weapons were not that effective on an agile foe though, and Brandon dodged, rolling away underneath the arch of the club, his ears catching the sound of wood smashing into skull, body hitting the ground. Back on his feet, he could only step back as the blunt weapon came down on the place he’d been standing in a tick earlier.

Sal had managed to stay undetected somehow, the focus of the bandits on Brandon, Marion and her bodyguard. Said bodyguard had been rather successful in fulfilling his duties, dancing to and fro, delivering death with the sharp sting of a rapier, thinning out the numbers of the thugs efficiently. However, the cowards had sprung into action as well, threatened by the booming voice of the man with the axe, who had felled Altman’s guard with ease and was now holding the begging merchant’s hair with one hand, grinning widely.

A painful poke centered the bat’s attention back to his own fight, the club’s attack resulting in the lack of breath and a lot of coughing. Bent over in pain, arms clutching his stomach, Brandon watched as the man raised his club, planning to end the battle. Lady Dira, if this is truly my end, then my actions of resistance won’t change that outcome! And because of that, I will resist! With a roar, and a burst of adrenaline to dull the pain, Brandon launched himself at his opponent, tackling the man with his body weight, dagger tasting blood as it was plunged in the man’s underbelly. The thief landed on top of the man, both of them struggling to survive. The brigand’s hands had released the club to choke the bat, who was relentlessly hitting the man’s throat, persevering and eventually succeeding and crawling off of the body, his own throat burning.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Sal Mander]

Altman's mercenary didn't stand a chance. No doubt some hired help who probably talked a good game, but was never actually intending to get his hands dirty, so to speak. Perhaps accompanying his master to one of Burton Tally's card games was a poor choice, one that had since got the man killed, laying in a pool of blood while a particularly mean looking thug stood over him, admiring his work as though it had been a sculpture of some kind.

Altman meanwhile had been spared the blade, for now at least. He looked a bit of a clown, his hands wrapped around the wrist of the arm that clutched a handful of his hair, a stupid look of incredulous disbelief on his face at how he had managed to find himself in this predicament. Altman was nothing more than a rich merchant, a mean and cruel man to his inferiors when it came to ordering servants and those below him on the career ladder. But here he was out of his element. Should he happen to get out of this alive, no doubt he would be penning a strongly worded letter of complaint to the city officials. That was the extent that his wrath would be able to express itself.

Marion Moore and her guard had proved rather adept at staying alive meanwhile, having already dispatched two of the thugs; the first clutching his stomach while he crept away on hands and knees, the second as still as a rock. Marion's guard had taken up position in front of his employer, rapier brandished fiercely and snapping at any foolish enough to get in range. A handful of thugs probed and tested, poking with their own weapons as though the guard was a fierce dog of some kind. But at least for now it meant more thugs preoccupied, which meant less thugs with their attentions on Brandon.

The bat had done well so far, disengaging from the first dual attack as club and sword had sought to fell him. In all the chaos, he had managed to straddle one of his assailants, dispatching the fellow in a murderous frenzy, the kind that was inspired by the adrenaline of a 'kill or be killed' scenario that the bat was undoubtedly in. Sal would have been impressed and a little intimidated by this animal like and brutal display, but he was too busy hatching his plan. Stood in front of the bar, Sal had been afforded a few moments to put into practice his next action, with Brandon having created a safety buffer between Sal and the thugs.

As Brandon clambered to his feet, he turned around just in time as the sword wielding thug came at him, letting out a roar that was bestial and rage filled. The man's fury had propelled him onwards at a pace unnatural for his size, especially considering the added weight of that hefty sword. Brandon was quick enough to sidestep the downward arc of the blade, which found itself biting hard into the wooden floor. But the man's speed and size kept him propelling forwards, resulting in a glancing blow from his shoulder sending the much smaller kelvic sprawling. The man was closing in, readying another strike on Brandon who was now laying at the man's mercy.

Suddenly, Sal stepped into view. He ran up to within a few feet of the thug, before flinging the contents of a glass in the man's chest. The thug had to admit, this was certainly an unexpected turn of pace to the fight. A second thug had approached, this one from Sal's right side, moving slowly with a look on his face, halfway between amusement and curiosity. "What's this eh? We done 'urt yer feelings eh? Why, you be throwing ya drink like da bitch dat you are." The sword brandishing thug joined in the laughter, having surmised that Sal, despite his size, was of little threat.

As for Sal himself, he turned to look at the second man who had issued the insult, before unloading a second glass at the man's face. The thug wiped the liquid from his eyes, but rather than take offense from the attack, he only laughed harder, having had his assumptions of Sal confirmed. "Hur hur. You really are a bitch aren't ya? What is dis anyway, eh? It smells like alcohol. Why you dun go waste a good drink eh?"
_____"Actually it's whiskey. Lhavitian Fifteen Year to be precise. I always found it a touch oily on the palate, but only a touch. The flavor has more of that musty old wood, mixed with seasoned plums and tobacco leaf. It’s dry, yet moderately spicy. The finish runs off on notes of tobacco and pepper, but is surprisingly light and cool." Sal had started to work his hands now, the palms face up before him, while his eyes closed and he lowered his head. The two thugs were still busy laughing at the man's whiskey review.

"Oh, it's also very flammable." There seemed to be a sudden lull in the laughter, the two thugs looking at one another before back to Sal. The investigator's head came up, a look of clarity on his face as his eyes opened, the pupils dilated while the weak light of the room's lamps flickered in those green/blue orbs. But suddenly it was a fierce dance in his eyes, as a ball of flame burst to life in each hand. He fired a grin at the two thugs first, their eyes all meeting, all knowing what was to happen next. In a snap, Sal had flung the balls, one for each of the thugs who had no chance to dodge or evade at this range. The whiskey welcomed the fire, spreading its joy and ecstasy as flames burst up in victorious celebration. While the thugs were busy screaming and patting at the flames, Sal grabbed Brandon under the arm and hefted him up onto his feet. "With me, quickly."

Sal headed back to the bar, placing his hands on top as he vaulted himself over. He turned to Brandon, motioning for the kelvic to follow. When the bat reached the bar, he noted Sal was nowhere to be seen. Instead, where he had been stood on the other side of the bar, out of view from the rest of the room, was a now open trapdoor, with stone steps leading down into the dark.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

In truth, Brandon really hadn’t expected that guy to get up any time soon. His attention had not been with said man in the first place because the bat had believed the thug to be either dead or at least unconscious. Apparently, the bandit was in possession of a rather extremely thick skull, perhaps at the cost of the size of his brain. Yet, intelligence was not a thing that allowed a weakling to enter a brawl and win, it helped, but it did not guarantee victory. The same could be said about brute strength, though that did have quite a bit of impact. Nevertheless, victory usually went to people who managed to use both; tactics and strategies surmised to change the flow of battle.

Quick on his feet as he was, Brandon did succeed in dodging the burly blade taking a bite out of the floor, though the minimalist motion was not quite enough to take him out of harm’s way. It hadn’t been the purpose either, the thief had wanted to use the momentum of the man against him by grabbing his arm, push his own center of gravity underneath the man’s in a fluid motion, and push up with both hips and knees, becoming some sort of Kelvic stumbling block or so. It should have worked, if the bat had been a little bit more accurate in his motions.

He’d panicked, the calm he’d managed to preserve had been shattered when he’d launched himself at the guy with the club, and that said man had been choking him hadn’t done him much good either. With adrenaline running wild, he’d not been able to enclose the man’s arm in a grip, and as a result he was sent flying as the shoulder hit his back. It left Brandon winded, the impact with the floor not as soft as it could have been, the flipped and on its side lying table in the way, making it hard to use acrobatics. Not so surprisingly, the thief hit the tabletop hard, back first once more as his attempt to roll backfired. The table’s balance had been compromised, it came crashing down, now standing on its head, a Kelvic gasping for breath lying helplessly next to it, the thug with the sword drawing nearer with a big grin on his face and his sword at the ready.

Back aching and breath still not recovered, the thief was in no condition to move. So, this was truly the end then? No, not quite; Sal interfered, emptying a glass of liquid on the bat’s attacker’s chest, and looking quite smug while going so. Two thugs now had their attention focused on the investigator, and Brandon felt the tension leaving his body as he thanked Dira and Kihala both for sending the tall Cosmos Center employee at his rescue. While Sal distracted the two, Brandon laid back and stared at the ceiling, his breath recovered, but having forgotten how to move and the severity of the situation temporarily forgotten. He was just glad to be alive … and back on his feet?

Immediately the bat returned to the present, stumbling the first step, but then regaining his footing and able to walk on his own while Sal dragged him to the bar for a tick before releasing the grip on his arm. The two thugs rolling over the floor to smother the flames they were coated in, he noticed, glancing around the room. Altman was down, but alive, so it seemed, saved from a bloody death by an unknown savior who’d dealt with the axe-wielding bandit. Meanwhile, Sal had reached the bar, jumped over the counter and just vanished. Brandon frowned, but said nothing upon witnessing the investigator’s disappearing act, instead noting that Riptide was nowhere to be seen either. In fact, the only people left in the room were the thugs, Marion and her bodyguard, Altman, and the bat himself, though in the same instant, five brigands assaulted the guard in quick succession, and while he did an amazing job of not succumbing, his demise seemed inevitable.

Brandon swung his legs over the bar, one hand placed on top of it and supporting his body while serving as an axis, and landed on the other side, right in front of a trapdoor. A curse left his lips as he realized that Tally probably had escaped by using this passage, which meant he would be waiting for them at the end of it. However, it was their only chance to get away without having to risk being intercepted by the brigands or the Shinya when they arrived. A fleeing Marion dashed towards the door they’d entered through, chased by the small horde of leftover bandits, so Bran saw when using the broken mirror behind the bar to observe for a tick, crouched behind the counter. Good, that meant there was someone serving as a diversion, which would keep the chances of the bat's own escape at a minimum. A sigh of relief and a nod, and then he jumped right into the hole and onto the stairs, closing the hatch behind him and rejoining Sal’s side, navigating through the secret passage with ease because of the glowing skyglass-shards embedded in the ceiling and walls every ten meters.

“That was a close call,” the bat breathed, rubbing his face and undoing the leather strip he’d used to bind his hair in a ponytail. “Though you could have just thrown fireballs to begin with instead of coming up with crazy plans.” He shook his head and sighed deeply, despite his complaints glad that the investigator had come to his aid. “Now, is there a plan for this part too? Which reminds me, did you not say you wanted to retrieve your friend’s money? What are we here for exactly? Except for our escape, that is?”

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Sal Mander]

Fireballs might well have worked, as Brandon suggested. But while certainly a menacing ball of fire to the chest would have done much to startle a foe, Sal had required the alcohol to maintain the flames. This much he explained to his kelvic friend as they ventured further along the narrow passage, the only light afforded to them coming from the city's famous skyglass. Their journey here was more to do with escape than pursuit, though both were fully aware that a more than capable Burton Tally, as he had clearly demonstrated, could have been lurking around the next corner for them.

When Brandon raised the small matter of coins, Sal plucked a rather fat purse from his pocket, landing it in the thief's hand with a grin. It seemed part of Sal's plan had been not only to retrieve the whiskey from the bar, but first to gather a few fistfuls of coins. Judging from the weight, if either were to take a guess, there was perhaps just over a cool thousand kina in there. That covered the entrance fee they had been here to retrieve for Sal's friend in the first place, with whatever extra remained to be divided up between the two men.

"Actually, there is no plan for this part. I just noticed the trapdoor when I was getting that whiskey and, well, it was this or still be up there. Don't know about you, but I've kind of had enough cards and thugs for one day." Sal wiped his brow, scanning ahead in the gloom for any possible signs of movement. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he pressed on at a cautious pace, keeping his ears and eyes alert as best he could. It had not occurred to him that a kelvic would have been more suited to taking point at this stage, so instead he moved onwards without bringing the suggestion up.

"I wonder how far this tunnel goes," he pondered out loud. As if to torment the pair, the tunnel took a sharp corner, before splitting into two possible routes. "Well shyke. What do we do now?" Sal peered down one tunnel, then the other, trying to decide which of the identical looking passages offered more promise in the way of escape. After Brandon had offered his own suggestions on the matter, they were both distracted by steps coming down from the passage on the right. Sal placed his feet at the ready, taking a combat ready stance with his fists held up. Narrow as the passage was, there was little room for swinging a sword around down here.

"Gentlemen", proclaimed Riptide as he stepped into the light. His hands were bloody from where he had held his bodyguard during her final moments, bleeding out from the slit neck, a gift from Burton Tally before his escape. Despite his bloody hands, Riptide seemed to have regained his earlier composure, offering his devious smile that always suggested he knew more than he was letting on. Brandon had known it was Riptide long before he came into view, such was his sense of smell. As for Sal, he relaxed a little, simply glad it was not Burton Tally.
_____"So, I guess now is as good a time as any to ask..."
_____"To ask what this is all about? Naturally." Another smile, while neither Sal or Brandon could mistake the sly wink the sailor offered the kelvic. Riptide looked down at his hands, as if noticing the blood for the first time. Pulling a kerchief from a back pocket, he began wiping his hands clean as best he could, while he continued his explanation.

"Quite a pity about Joanna. Rather handy with the blade, and quiet as a mouse. A real bitch though. Always complaining when we're on land. She's not a fan of laws you see. At least not the laws you people try to give us anyhow. But, she's my bitch. Or was." There was a moment of silence as Riptide seemed to stare off into the distance, recounting some fond memory perhaps of this Joanna, who was now no more than a piece of flesh laying still on the wooden planks up above. Riptide snapped out of the moment, carrying on with his words.

"Long story short, my good men, that Burton Tally has had it coming to him for some time. Seems the dastardly fellow has a knack for keeping a card or two up his sleeve. Well, suffice it to say, Riptide does not take too kindly to being cheated, especially where coins are concerned." He turned his gaze back to Brandon for a moment, a sparkle in his eye and a half smirk forming on his lips. "Not all cheating is bad though, I dare say."

So it seemed then that Burton had been rather adept at making enemies. With such a variety of rich and powerful players that the game attracted, it did make sense that someone else would have eventually suspected Burton of cheating. Maybe others had but had kept their silence. Maybe others had even confronted the man, but came up second best. In any case, while Riptide's apparent lustful gaze at Brandon was more than a little unsettling, it did seem that the man was on their side. At least as far as Burton Tally was concerned.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The tunnel was coated in the mixed scents of blood, Riptide and Burton Tally, as well as another one the bat did not recognize and stale older trails. Sal was cautious, on edge ever since the hooded woman had started her killing spree, and he had yet to regain his calm. It was wise to be careful though, for the air inside the passage was stagnant and while the trails of smell served as a guide, the bat could not predict whether the Rat would be waiting behind the nearest corner or not. For that exact reason both men had kept their voices as low as possible, whispering instead of talking with their usual volume, and Brandon had fallen into his habit of walking as quietly as he could manage in the slightly echoing underground route.

With a small grin and a “Heh,” the bat agreed with the investigator, having had more than enough trouble with those two thugs, he'd rather not face another such horde. “Not to mention that the Shinya will be arriving shortly,” the bat added, a sigh escaping him. “I do hope that Altman will hold them up long enough so that we can get away,” Brandon grinned, “he did appear to be the type that will haunt you with complaints and threats to tell your superiors about your incompetence.” He fell silent for a bit, continuing after a couple steps, replying to Sal's question. “I'm not too sure...”

Shyke! Two possible routes now laid before the pair instead of one; the right one held the scent of both blood and captain Riptide, the left one that of Tally and the unknown smell. Whichever would lead to the exit could be argued about, maybe both did, but as far as Brandon was concerned, he did not want to stay on Tally's trail if it wasn't necessary. Not only was it possible he'd ambush them, it was certain that even if he didn't he would still be hostile, whereas Riptide might not be. “Right,” the thief suggested, sounding rather confident, something Sal might have found strange, but it mattered not to the Kelvic.

Footsteps echoed from the passage he had just recommended, and it took no superhuman hearing to detect the sound they made, it seemed, seeing as Sal assumed a fighting stance. Brandon on the other hand kept appeared to be utterly unworried, though it was but a ruse. One schooled in the ways of unarmed combat or in Brandon's behavior would notice his feet had shifted in position, ready to evade an attack, should one come, and counterattack with a powerful kick. Luckily, Riptide did not greet them with hostilities, but with his honeyed voice that always stayed gentle and calm. The bat relaxed slightly, yet did not undo his stance while the sailor offered an explanation on both his guard and his business.

On the former Brandon commented that he probably would have liked her, his words a quiet murmur, not really meant for anyone's ears, but either of the two men standing around had probably heard. “So, you had the same objective as us,” Brandon remarked, stating the obvious, “though your methods can hardly be called subtle...” A grin crept up the captain's lips and another statement in regards to cheating was made by the Svefra. Brandon sighed. “Actually, none of your methods are subtle,” the Kelvic stated, a look of disinterest on his face, for all to see. “Sorry to destroy your illusions, Captain Riptide, but you'll have to do a lot better to sway the heart of a man preferring womenfolk over men.” Arms were crossed and an eyebrow raised, the thief wondered just how the sailor would react, if at all.

Even after been shot down, Riptide did not cease his glares and winks, apparently having considered the bat's statement a challenge, now shooting him a strong and really obvious lustful stare that earned another sigh from the recipient. “Uuuugghhh. Is there anything interesting to be found in that tunnel?” Brandon asked with one hand rubbing his face, and the other gesturing in the general direction where Riptide had come from. “I take it it's either a way out or some sort of hideout or storage room, correct?” The Svefra confirmed the bat's suspicions, though the hope of leaving through that tunnel was shattered as it was no exit. “Hmpf, then that leaves us no choice but pursuing that cheap rat-faced cheater,” Brandon concluded, not sounding too thrilled about that. The trio started moving, Riptide leading the way, followed by Brandon and Sal respectively, the former having offered the captain the spot in front of them, if only so he wouldn't receive those stares anymore. And because the captain would serve as a nice buffer between him and Tally, if they should meet the crook. Brandon hoped they wouldn't, surely he'd received enough of a head start to have escaped already, right?

x

credit goes to Euthisa