12th of Spring, 511AV
Sunberth, Reysin had decided, was a fascinating place. Syliras, Ahnatep, and even the nest had all had some clear structure to them, but Sunberth... Sunberth was chaotic, anarchic. All that held this city together, it seemed was blood and gold. Fascinating. And terrifying. Not ten days in the city, and he'd already seen a man stabbed in broad daylight.
Which, in fact, brought him to why he was sitting at another bar. Sitting at a far table was a man, short, rat-faced and badly scarred, swigging what Reysin would guess was the piss that passed for beer in this place. He wasn't the one who had stabbed that man, but he was the one who had been insulted by him. The one who'd stabbed him sat at the same table, a huge brute of a man with a huge two handed sword at his side. Well. Stabbed wasn't really the right word. Splattered was more accurate.
Reysin hadn't heard the initial insult, but when the hulking bodyguard stood, it had been fairly noticeable. And when he dragged the squirming man out into the streets, and returned with blood dripping from his blade, well. It was hard to miss. The other patrons had barely reacted, merely looking away from the rat-faced man and his bodyguard. No anger, no disgust. Just business as usual.
The body wasn't hard to find. The blood trail had led into a back alley, the corpse propped up against the wall, cooling in the spring night. And, well. He'd been feeling a little peckish, but that was besides the point. The point was, it had sparked a question in Reysin's mind. Was this behaviour typical of Sunberthians? Or was there something particular about the rat-faced man?
It was dangerous business, poking around the affairs of a man who'd had someone splattered for insulting him, but what was a little danger when Reysin was so curious? So for two days now, he'd been following the rat faced man, who he'd found out was named Flynn. Or Boss, sometimes.
Results had been, annoyingly, inconclusive. Flynn led a minor gang in the area, the Jackals, but it was just that. Minor. They "controlled" a few streets, scuffled with other minor gangs, but no one seemed particularly impressed or intimidated by them. So Reysin continued to follow him, not quite sure what he was looking for, but hoping it would show up anyways.
For a gang leader, Flynn was surprisingly boring. Reysin had mostly been following him to taverns and brothels, and around the small area his gang controlled, over and over again. He'd learned quite a bit over the last two days, but nothing that seemed particularly important, or-
"Um.. hi?"
Sunberth, Reysin had decided, was a fascinating place. Syliras, Ahnatep, and even the nest had all had some clear structure to them, but Sunberth... Sunberth was chaotic, anarchic. All that held this city together, it seemed was blood and gold. Fascinating. And terrifying. Not ten days in the city, and he'd already seen a man stabbed in broad daylight.
Which, in fact, brought him to why he was sitting at another bar. Sitting at a far table was a man, short, rat-faced and badly scarred, swigging what Reysin would guess was the piss that passed for beer in this place. He wasn't the one who had stabbed that man, but he was the one who had been insulted by him. The one who'd stabbed him sat at the same table, a huge brute of a man with a huge two handed sword at his side. Well. Stabbed wasn't really the right word. Splattered was more accurate.
Reysin hadn't heard the initial insult, but when the hulking bodyguard stood, it had been fairly noticeable. And when he dragged the squirming man out into the streets, and returned with blood dripping from his blade, well. It was hard to miss. The other patrons had barely reacted, merely looking away from the rat-faced man and his bodyguard. No anger, no disgust. Just business as usual.
The body wasn't hard to find. The blood trail had led into a back alley, the corpse propped up against the wall, cooling in the spring night. And, well. He'd been feeling a little peckish, but that was besides the point. The point was, it had sparked a question in Reysin's mind. Was this behaviour typical of Sunberthians? Or was there something particular about the rat-faced man?
It was dangerous business, poking around the affairs of a man who'd had someone splattered for insulting him, but what was a little danger when Reysin was so curious? So for two days now, he'd been following the rat faced man, who he'd found out was named Flynn. Or Boss, sometimes.
Results had been, annoyingly, inconclusive. Flynn led a minor gang in the area, the Jackals, but it was just that. Minor. They "controlled" a few streets, scuffled with other minor gangs, but no one seemed particularly impressed or intimidated by them. So Reysin continued to follow him, not quite sure what he was looking for, but hoping it would show up anyways.
For a gang leader, Flynn was surprisingly boring. Reysin had mostly been following him to taverns and brothels, and around the small area his gang controlled, over and over again. He'd learned quite a bit over the last two days, but nothing that seemed particularly important, or-
"Um.. hi?"
Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic
