"The Warshmal's boy got hurt bad when we attacked the Seaside Market. Some of us knew that was goin' to be trouble, we weren't celebratin' with the rest of our Brothers. None of us knew how bad it was gonna get..."
10th of Winter, AV 514 - 4th Bell - Daggerhand Territory
10th of Winter, AV 514 - 4th Bell - Daggerhand Territory
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. By that reckoning Dale should be blind ten times over by now but here he stood, leaning up against a warehouse wall as he packed his pipeweed in his pipe, eager to light the stuff to bring some warmth to his aging bones. Too many of Sunberth's resident hungered for revenge or retribution, most of them would never get it. Those that achieved it would find that it brought little comfort to a grieving soul while others were consumed by it, spilling more blood than was needed and thus propelling the vicious cycle forward. It was of the many injustices that had contorted Sunberth into what is was today. But justice was blind in Sunberth; Faith was pried from cold, dead hands.
From a single dim lantern that struggled to illuminate all corners of the damp, dingy warehouse Dale lit a splint. It was probably for the best as all it would do would reveal the plethora of insects and rodents that lurked in its isolated, shrouding shadows. It was best to let them scurry about in the shadows, leaving each scuttle and creak to agitate the mercenaries that had mostly decided to huddle around the lantern to keep them on edge.
Outside the warehouse dark, grey, furrowed clouds canvassed the skies, not letting a single ray of the setting sun slip between them as snow spilled from the heavens to blanket Sunberth. The weather had caused enough trouble already and the season had barely begun, it was only going to get worse. But in the warehouse at least they were sheltered from the bitterness of any breezes or sting of snow on flesh not that it stopped any of the men from complaining.
"By the gods, when will this weather let up? I'm this close to losing my toes..." One new face complained. Dale had actually never seen the man before, in fact almost half of the faces that filled the warehouse he hadn't seen and Dale had been in the Daggerhand for over a decade now, he knew the faces of too many grunts and he had a hunch that this man wasn't Stiletto. "It's winter, get used to it" Dale replied bluntly to put an end to a presumably long trail of complaints from the man before clamping the tip of his pipe between his teeth and plunging the lit splint into the chamber. He suckled like a newborn born baby, coaxing life into the embers as felt the familiar twang of Kline fill his mouth before inhaling a lungful of hot smoke.
"What are we even doing out here? I don't like sittin' on my arse to wait around, I want to be kickin' some guys door down or slitting the throats of the Sun's Birth like in the Seaside Market" The same man complained again while some of the newer faces nodded with him.
"You do what you're bloody well told. We've been ordered to wait for a delivery, so we will wait for a delivery till winter comes round again if we have too. So shut your fuckin' mouth and don't talk about things you know nuthin' about" Dale replied, following up with a withering glance to quell any further responses from the man. He wasn't actually in charge but none of them were either and he was not going to listen for what could be an age to his whinging.
Dale didn't like it either but he wasn't going to fuel the dissent on the new gang members. They didn't know what was arriving, when it was arriving or whether to expect any trouble. Though given the fact that it required six men alone to guard the warehouse where it was to be delivered too he could at least make a guess at the last unknown. He popped the pipe back into his mouth and leant back against the wall, listening to nothing but the sound of rats scurrying about in darkness and the wind forcing its way under the door.
All that was left to do was wait now.
