Deception (Solo)

[Hayl]

Season of Spring: Day 13
511AV

The pain in his foot made for a convincing limp. Hayl was grateful to have it mended, but he was in no way good as new. His boots in his satchel, he allowed the world to see his bloodied feet and have their usual reactions to the less that fortunate man who passed by. He was making his way to the Southern Trading Post. His plan was that perhaps there was a foreign merchant staying over night that would be missing some currency when he awoke in the morning. Hayl has heard of the Ebonstryfe and the citizens of Ravok, the terrible things that can happen to a person who commits a crime against them. ‘I’m good, but not that good.’ were his exact thoughts. He still favored some more individual targets that, if wronged, had no support to cut a man’s fingers off.

A tug on his sloppily tucked tunic brought him to a stop and a little girl, in a beautiful dress was standing there with copper in her hand. He forced a grin at her, and then placed a hand on her head. He turned and continued leaving the money in her hand. At the docks was the beggar’s paradise. Food, money, and rich people too busy to hear your story and would rather pay you to shut up. He disappeared himself in the crowd as a snake in the grass, holding trembling hands out to the wealthy that passed. “Please sir, I have a son… he’s terribly sick.” The man just ignored him.

“Lady, I haven’t eaten in many days.”

“Oh you poor dear, if only I had some coin…” A terrible lie as the distinct sound of coins in a leather pouch resonated from her breasts. One was larger than the other anyway.

Many hours passed with no real leads, until a boat was finally docked. The beggars of the area recognized the strange yellowish lacquered finish of a measly ship and departed from that area. ‘That’s a good sign.’ A few were brave enough to try their luck. As the man departed from the crudely cut door of the ship, he drug a chain with various people connected to it. Everything about the man was perfect, the fat gut bouncing with every step, the terrible grin he had that displayed his grotesque teeth under his overgrown dark mustache, his deep, booming, and garbled voice vomiting orders at the slaves attempting steps with chained ankles. Hayl could barely hide the grin fighting him right now.

An old man approached him first, “Sir, I was hoping I could clean your vessel while-“the old man was interrupted by a nice looking dagger that was drawn and pointed at his throat, as the fat man strolled by without acknowledging the old man with any other gestures. Hayl, this time, had to look away with his smile defeating him. ‘Small weapons are made for concealment, or for women, you imbecile.’ Daggers belted to the hip always looked like a metaphor for a small penis, to Hayl. When he collected himself, he returned his look as the man kicked a small girl, offering to sell him origami, into a canal. ‘My turn…’

Hayl departed the crowd and walked directly in his path. “Mister, my wife… she was captured and sold, last season. Do you kno-“ He shoved Hayl with the same demeanor as he had with the old man. Hayl, perhaps too quickly, stepped back in front of him. “Please, Ill take her place… Her name is Alathania-“ The man threw a slow and heavy jab that Hayl let hit his jaw. The very powerful attack knocked him to the ground, then the fat man drew his comical dagger and pointed it at Hayl, “Listen, you street filth, If your wife came across me, not only has she seen my bed, but many others.” Hayl looked past the dagger and up his tunic. Four beautiful pouches bulging with the distinct shape of various coins, well one of them could be his diseased jewels, “So do yourself a favor and give up on the used piece of trash before I penetrate you with my blade as I’m sure I did her that day you lost her.” The man kicked Hayl in the ribs, and a walked away, his trail of lost souls following mindlessly behind him. Hayl was coughing from the last blow, blood pouring abundantly from his lip yet his smile was radiant. His coughing turned into a quiet laughter. If Hayl had to pick an art for himself, it was deception, and he felt that the mural was beginning nicely.

[Hayl]

“You should get that lip looked at…” said the tailor.

“I’m fine, how much do I owe you?”

“Well… 1 black wool cloak… that will be 6 silver. Pair of black leather gloves… I'll let you have them for 5. This black linen shirt, 6. These black pants 1 gold… What, are you going to a funeral?”

“You could say that.”

“When did they die?”

“Look… Ill give you 5 gold for this, and to stop asking questions... and to forget I was ever here.”

The tailor looked at Hayl calculating the cost of his curiosity then took the money and left into a different room without saying anything. Hayl left the store after changing into his clothes. With his hair spiked up and in clean clothes, he felt a thousand times better. He wasn’t sure if he was going to kill the fat man or not, but he had awhile to think about it. Reaching a restaurant that was directly across the canal from the ugly yellow boat, he took a seat and began to analyze.

“Something to drink sir?” A scrawny looking bar mistress placed a glass of clean water in front of Hayl.

“Water will be fine, and some bread and whatever salted meat you have.”

“Beef or pork sir?”

“Pork” She was almost out of his grasp when he thought to ask her, “Miss… Do you know anything about that ugly boat over there?”

“Sir, I should not talk about other patrons to a person who is not from this city…” Hayl was afraid she was going to say something like that. He was going to have to resort to persuasion by seducing her with his charming looks, and stunning eyes. He looked at her with a cunning expression, as if he was on the brink of tears, or in pain. “Please Miss… It would help me save a life…” She looked at him and cringed, “What happened to your face?” Hayl jerked his head away, ‘Damn, forgot about that…’ he thought. Finally he went to his last resort, bribery, “Look lady, I know I am not eating a feast here, but I promise I will leave the coin as if I was, but only if I get the service I expect.”

She sighed and then sat down beside him, “His name is Holgeth… We call him Holgeth the monster. Every time he appears here slaver women are forced to lay with him. I don’t know how high up on the slave market he is, but he’s been known to slaughter women if they don’t…” Hayl looked back at her face, and could tell she was a slave. He put a gold coin on the table and grinned at her, “Just keep the water coming, thanks.”

It was getting dark and Hayl had yet to see the fat man. He refused to grant the bastard a name, whatever the one the bar mistress called him, so he was still the fat man to him. A thought surged through his head. Hayl knew that his mother was not from Sunberth, and wondered if the fat man had ever crossed paths with her. Such thought infuriated him, making it hard to focus. Hayl did not want to kill anyone, but the man was so despicable. “No…I’m no killer.” His muttered words were spoken, but that does not make them true. When Hayl was a year younger, he was finally sent by his mother’s owner, a gang leader, to steal from any rival gang member. A simple task. Something terrible happened at the attempt, however, and the target for Hayl’s larceny nearly killed him. The story is specifically rarely thought through in his head, but Hayl still sees himself standing over the dead body of the man, blood pooling from his neck, and the bloody dagger in his hand.

Well into the night the dark chime of Ravok loomed through the canals, and the mistress came to him and explained that the restaurant was closed. Hayl nodded and walked towards a dark unlit portion of the canal, his black clothes had him enveloped as soon as he fitted his hood. Hayl was growing impatient thinking that the fat man had found a bed somewhere in the city, and would just break into his boat and rummage his things there. The door was solid oak, however, and had some sort of bar lock that fastened to the frame of the boat. Hayl had no lock picking tools on him, or the experience with such a foreign device, but he did have the idea to just simply wait on the boat. The lantern next to it would have to be taken care of, but he could be discrete about that. He made his way further down the canal and crossed a bridge, and when he made it to the lantern he noticed it was missing a glass pane. Hayl reached into his satchel and pulled out a shred of cloth he was saving to wrap his feet in, later. He dipped the cloth in the water and wadded it up into a ball, and threw it into the open side of the lamp taking the light source out instantly. Hayl continued to walk by incase there were onlookers, and after about 50 paces he realized the canals were deserted. Returning to the boat, he jumped onboard and laid still as the boat sloshed in the water, waiting for it to settle. He looked hard, letting his eyes adjust as best as they could to the darkness, and noticed a tarp on the bow. Before he secured himself under the tarp, he went and looked at the lock. The fashioned iron lay flush against the face of the door, hinged to the hard outer hull; the iron flat was pierced by a loop fastened to the door, and a strange box with a key hole. Hayl placed his finger on the key hole and knew that such a device was not from around here. Looking around he saw another lock box, but severely rusted. He picked it up and realized how it worked. A metal arch on top of the box was hinged at one side, and could be pressed in a hole on the other side that the teeth would catch to the keyed mechanism inside the box. It didn’t seem so challenging now that he held it in his hands, still it was strange to see such device so portable. Pulling on the door, he saw that it opened enough for an arm to fit through on the other side. He understood that the arch fitted into the loop that was fused with the door, and the flat iron was hinged and could be pulled away from the door frame, allowing the door to then swing open. Hayl seriously doubted that the ingenuity came from the fat man, but it was still admirable. Still with no lock picks he was going to have to be creative. Hayl attempted to lock the rusty box in his hands, but the teeth were so eroded that the arch could be pulled out, which then he understood why this one was discarded. ‘If only I could just switch the two, he would never know the difference, given the darkness.’ He thought, but then it occurred to him, what if the fat man switched it for him? Hayl looked around and found some fishing line and a giant smile grew on his face.

“Lady if you don’t stop dragging your feet, I swear when I’m done with you, I will hang you over the side of my boat the rest of the night!” Hayl held his breath as he heard the familiar gargle. He was frozen solid under the tarp, hoping that the fat man was too careless to question the lamp. “Damn lamp lighters…" was all he said about it. Hayl knew now that this was going to be easier than he expected and started to think that his adventure to Ravok was one of the best ideas he had ever had. The boat shifted with the weight of two bodies coming aboard. Then Hayl heard the sounds of keys, and he tightened his fist on the fishing line, pulling all slack out of it. As soon as the fat man fitted the key and turned it, Hayl yanked the line down and towards him. “What the hell…” the fat man bent over and padded the ground like a blind man, till he found a lock box. He then opened the door, went inside with the woman, and with his hand outside pulled mechanism together and placed the box in its position, then closed the door. Hayl silently came up from under the tarp, and pressed his ear to the door. He listened to the sound of cloth being thrown around and specific hard clang of the dagger hitting the floor. Slowly, he pulled on the box and the soft click of the rusted teeth allowed him to breathe. He then quietly got the door unfastened and waited. Within minutes the sounds became apparent that the fat man was preoccupied and he flung the door open.

[Hayl]

The fat man peered over his hairy shoulder at Hayl, who caught him in the worst position possible. “What the hell…” he garbled. Hayl drew his dagger from his wrist and pointed it at the man, “Alright sir, I’m going to have to ask you to sit down with your hands where I can see them.” He said with a smirk, as if he was finally at the part of all this work were he begins to reap the benefits. The fat man looked up at a saber that was mounted over the head of his bead. Hayl saw this, realizing that he had perhaps overlooked a huge mistake in his ‘well thought out’ plan. “Shit…” he muttered and then flipped his dagger, holding it by the blade, and then threw it towards the reaching hand of the fat man. Hayl was by no means a master at wielding daggers, let alone throwing them, so much was apparent when the dagger hit the fat man, hilt first, in the back of the head stunning him momentarily. Hayl then swooped down and unsheathed the fancy blade stored on the waist of the discarded trousers the fat man threw on the floor. Hayl then sprung towards him, grasping the back of the neck, and throwing him against the wall holding the point of the blade to his skin.

“You little shit… When I’m done with you, you will wish you were never born.” Garbling from the squished lips, smeared against the wall.

“Come on, if your going to insult me, at least be original about it. Besides, I am the one with the dagger to your neck.” Hayl said as he looked at the naked women to his side. “You will want to leave if you’re not partial to blood.” She nodded and began to head to the door. “Oh and miss…” She stopped and looked at him, trying to fit the sheet around her to cover her up, “I hope you can keep a closed mouth.” Hayl could tell she was sincere, because she was very shy to not say anything from the beginning, and the warm grin she gave him as she nodded her head and stepped out the boat.

Hayl resettled his gaze at the back of the fat man’s greasy head. “She’s much too young for you…” The fat man’s saliva splattered against the wooden backing of the small room as his face was pressed against it trying to speak something that Hayl would have trouble understanding if there was no obstructions hindering the fat man. “I really don’t care what your saying so shut your disgusting mouth before I cut your tongue out from the back of your neck.” A heavy breath came from the fat man and Hayl took that as submissive gesture. He then reached over the top of the fat man towards the old looking saber, trying to remove it from the scope of the situation. The fat man slipped his greasy head from Hayl’s grip and shoved him with his heavy mass sending Hayl flying across the room barely able to roll onto his feet. The fat man then reached up and grabbed the saber and pointed it at Hayl. “Your going to pay for letting the bitch go…”

Hayl stood up and kept a calm composure, “I really cannot understand what you’re saying… were you raised by Kelvics or something?” Hayl joked, then the fat man barreled at Hayl swinging his saber with some skill. Hayl had wished, at this time, the force had not escalated to what it was simply because the fat man being completely naked and perhaps a small part of Hayl did not want to kill him. The swing flew drunkenly short of its effective range and Hayl allowed it to pass by causing the fat man to cross his arm all the way across his chest. Hayl stepped in so close that the arm was pinned to the fat man, and then Hayl planted the dagger straight into the fat man’s elbow. “YEAHHH!” The fat man screamed as a shearing buzzing pain burned from deep in the crook of his elbow straight to his fingers causing his hand to spring open, dropping the blade. Hayl pulled the dagger from the fat man’s arm, and head butted him in the eye, following up with a quick left kick, extending his leg all the way out, sinking it almost to his knee into the fat man’s gut, causing him to flop onto the bed.

“I just severed your Ulnar Nerve… now you will never have feeling in that hand, nor will you truly be able to close it to punch anyone again.” The fat man glared at Hayl really obtaining eye contact, and then he noticed Hayl’s lip. “The bastard from the street…”

“Oh you remembered me? Well consider your arm a token of appreciation for your taking concern into my requests.” Hayl now kicked the saber up into his left hand, and pointed it at the fat man with the dagger. The look on the fat man never truly absolved, but still he muttered, “Alright, take what you want and get out of here.” Perhaps now he understood that everything, from the punch that he gave to Hayl, to now was all intentional. Hayl looked away in thought then replied, “I didn’t detect the sincerity in your voice, I was hoping for some more tears, perhaps begging…” The fat man grimaced at him and then forced his eyes to meet Hayl's, looking as if he was about to plead for his life. The fat man gazed deep into Hayl, sloshed and glazed over, but then his composure changed into a wicked grin that struck Hayl’s soul. “Those eyes… You’re not the spawn of a whore called ‘Lady Scarlet’?”

Hayl’s coy grin suddenly morphed into a grimace as the fat man had proven his knowledge of Hayl’s mother. The fat man reading Hayl’s face began to laugh uncontrollably finding the moment worth more to humiliate Hayl then his very own life. Hayl’s fury radiated under his brow, forcing him to shut the bubbling obese idiot in front of him with a head cracking round kick.

When the fat man woke up he found himself tied to the head of the boat by some of his rope he had stashed in the cabin, still naked with sharp pains all over his chest. “One thing I had learned about being a thief… never be too greedy.” Hayl said to the fat man as Hayl poured some fluid on him. The fat man now realized that the sharp pains all over him were fishing line sown through his skin tied to coins that had holes drilled into them, which he collected from distant tribes that used them for decoration. Shock over came him and he was now gasping between screams, as he could smell the fluid that was poured on him. “So… I had such an enjoyment here at Ravok that I’m going to be giving some of my hard earned money to the people.” The fat man forced control on himself and growled at the young man before him, “You… can kill me, but you will never forget me….Hell, with as many times as your whore mother laid with me, I could be your father!” the fat man muscled out some laughter that eventually sounded sincere. Hayl, with no rage, and yet no remorse, held a candle from the inside of the boat, and threw it at the fat man, lighting him instantly.

After the boat started to sail down the canal, the fat man was screaming so loud that people exited their shabby homes to see what the commotion was. “He’s got money on him!” yelled Hayl from the shadows, now noticing the lines dangling coins from the enveloped being the needy people dove in the waters and grasped the money ripping the flesh from the fat man’s oozing body. His screams dulled, as the people pulled themselves on shore, “A gift from Rhysol! He see’s the perversion of Holgeth and delivered him to us!” Hayl smirked for the people and yet did not feel satisfied for himself. He still felt young, and his spoils being a bag of all the fat man’s gold miza’s, and the dagger he kept to remind him of this night as Hayl feel’s perhaps defeated by the fat man using his youth against him, forcing him to react as he did. Placing the money, and dagger in his bag, he now headed away from the crowd, his experience stronger, but his heart colder.

[Verilian]

Hayl +1 Begging +1 Subterfuge +1 Persuasion +1 Larceny +3 Dagger +1 Brawling +1 Unarmed Combat You Question My Logic? : Okay, I gave you a big smattering of skills there. You did some things that didn't really fall under a specific skill, so you got a some stuff that was related. If you feel I missed anything or you were hoping for a specific skill I did not give, or if you feel you were short handed in any way, please feel free to PM me and I'll reconsider. Lores: What If feels like to be Punched in the Face, Bribery (Basic), The Cost of Silence, The Cost of Information, Understanding Lock Mechanics (Basic), Severing a Nerve, Hardening of a Youthful Heart Expenses: 5 Gold Mizas Loot: Black wool cloak, Black Leather gloves, black linen shirt, black pants, Ornate Dagger worth 5 GM, Satchel filled with 20 Gold Mizas Notes: One word of warning. When you want to murder someone, make sure you have permission first. Usually we will say okay, but sometimes there will be consequences. Ravok may allow open crime, but that doesn't mean there isn't some semblance of law that is occasionally upheld. That aside, I enjoyed the thread. It was a good read and I look forward to more from you. Also, in the future, if you need any threads graded here are the links to our offices: Verilian Seth As I said before, I wouldn't try bothering Gillar too much. He's a busy guy, but we can handle most requests for you.