Aurelius leaned back in his chair, heavy boots up on the heavily scarred table puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette. The tiefling glanced around at the rest of the patrons of this seedy little brothel-- no, seedy didn't adequately describe just how scummy this little shit-hole was. The women looked clean, but were crawling with diseases, only slightly less foul than the men who paid to catch them. And yet, this cramped, dank little place was packed to the brim with cutters, all looking to spend their money on strong booze, cheap women and generally have a good time.
The half-demon was the same as any of them.. with the slight exception he had better taste in women.
One of the other berks seated there, a swarthy Aleraran elf, banged his fist on the table, grunting and swearing. The warlock turnd his attention back to him, and the other three men- not to mention the game they had going of three-card brag. So far, he had claimed the vast majority of their money- cheating, of course- and the dark elves were eager to try and win it back.
But the young anarchist's attention was caught by the pair who entered the bar, making their way through the crowd, obviously trying to stay unnoticed. A short man, trying to shield a shorter girl from the gaze of the predators in this crowd. The pair looked filthy, and Aurelius' heightened senses managed to detect the smell of sewage on them. Though why ahyone would choose to go swimming in the sewers was beyond him; especially with all the rumours of the barmy shit down there these days.
The smirking tiefling flicked his serpentine eyes over the three of them as he showed his cards- three threes; a winning hand.
The Dark Elves growled and muttered to each other, not aware that Aurelius could understand every word out of their mouths. They were planning on knifing him, apparently, and taking their money back by force. Let the sods try, he smirked to himself, running his forked tongue over his teeth. Laying down his cards and grabbing the rest of his winnings, Drak'shal stood up, ignoring the nudges and glances between the three addle-coved berks who were planning on bobbing him.
Something better had caught his attention. Two men had detached themselves from the crowd, and were following the pair of sewer rats up the rickety staircase to the first floor. His quill-like hair prickled at the back of his neck.
"Somethin' ain't right..." he muttered to himself, sensing something bad going down.
The two men- An Aleraran and a Salvaran- were talking to each other, quietly, impossible to eavesdrop over the massive crowd in the building. Aurelius knew who they worked for, of course. As a member of the Revolutionary League, the tiefling made a point of knowing who the political and criminal players on the scene were. These two cutters worked for one of the latter; a big fish in this scummy little pond. Some blood by the name "Queen of The Pit". And why would a blood like her be sending her goons after the filthy swamped pair who were now entering one of the rooms upstairs?
There was only one way to find out.
Smirking to the three Dark Elves, he spoke in fluent gutter-Aleraran- "Oh, by the by boys, I'd keep the pig-stickers where they are if I were you," he kept the arrogant grin on his face, watching their surprise when he invoked two balls of swirling black flame in the palms of his hands. "I'm too busy to put you in the dead-book tonight." The three elves sprinted for the door, upending the table, leaving Aurelius to chuckle quietly, as he slipped through the crowd of bubbers. The patrons seemed a bit more eager to get out of his way after seeing the display of pyromancy.
By the time the warlock reached the top of the cracked and sagging stairs, both the two berks and the sewer rats had walked into a room along the corridor. He could hear the pair of hired blades muttering to each other in there, but he didn't hear any reply. Maybe they turned the sewer rats into deaders, he reasoned. Again, he reasoned, there was only one way to find out. He was just about to charge into the room, when he heard one of the men- the Salvaran, he thought- say something. It sounded like.. Swaysong? The tiefling wracked his brain-box, trying to find any reference to such an item in his head.
He was drawing a blank.
".. Aye, the boss-lady is in a big tizzy 'bout this cock-up. Apparently heads are gonna roll."
"Yeah," sneered the nasal little Dark Elf, "they say it's nasty stuff, but powerful. She don't like the idea of someone having that much power without payin' her for it. Sets a bad.. what's the word?.. precedent!"
So, this stuff is powerful, and if I can't put it to good use, might be worth a bit o' jink from this knight of the cross-trade bitch..
The warlock grinned viciously to himself, sauntering into the room as if he owned the place. Instantly, he noticed the layers of soot all over the place, and where it had been disturbed by the sewer rats going out the window. Apparently, they had grabbed something stashed here, and ran. Canny sods, he admitted. Did they know they were being tailed?
But he turned his attention to the two men in front of him, both already drawing weapons, though neither was making any move yet. He looked the room over again, noting the only other exit besides the window, was the door he was currently in front of.
"What do you want, boy?" the Salvaran said, crossing his brawny arms over his barrel chest, a wooden club held casually in one fist. The Dark Elf had drawn a nice little stiletto blade. Drak'shal kept his hands at his sides, making sure he made no threatening or sudden moves. Aurelius gave the men the once over, his serpentine eyes taking in every detail- from the way the Salvaran kept most of his weight off his left leg, to the fact the Dark Elf kept raising his head repetitively, resembling nothing more than a clucking chicken. They were hired goons, but certainly not the sharpest tools in the Dusties' kit. Perfect, he chuckled in his brain-box.
"Boss wants to know what you've found," he sneered, blowing a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, staring down the men like a wolf among dogs.
"And just who do you think you are, comin' in here an' orderin' us about?" the Aleraran chimed in, obviously feeling a lot tougher with the brawny sod on his side.
Aurelius sighed, visibly irritated, and assumed an air of authority. Glowering down at the pair before him, he slammed the door shut behind him, rounding on them with a snarl, his many piercings rattling and jangling as he did.
"I'm the one who got called in to make sure you berks could manage your jobs. I'm the one who got dragged to this little rathole, because the boss-lady doesn't trust either of you idiots. And," he growled, yellow eyes glinting in the dim light of the fire-blackened room, "I'm the one trying to find out what you know, so I can go tell the boss something other than you two were very soddin' uncooperative. Choice is yours' lads, but make it bloody quick."
A tense second passed, no-one making a move, before finally, the thugs put their weapons away, relaxing visibly. Aurelius smirked to himself. They were making it too easy.
"The pair of 'em made it away with something from under the floorboards, 'fore we got up here. They were quick. From what we saw, sewers might be a good place to start looking for 'em. Boss lady says we've to cover the usual ways in and out. We're just headin' off now to go cover the drainage pipe outside of the industrial sprawls. Swanra'ann has men covering the rest, as far's we know."
The tiefling nodded slowly to himself. He had a name for their boss, more than the pseudonyms he'd heard whispered across Ettermire; he had a name for a rare substance that was apparently extremely powerful and worth a bob or two; he had a lead to follow up on the two sewer rats, who were somehow connected to this 'Swaysong'; and he had two berks just begging for him to nick them. It was shaping up to be an entertaining night.
Without warning, the warlock lashed out- he hammered his fingertips into the neck of the Dark Elf when he clucked his head higher, crushing his windpipe in one vicious hit; even as the dark-skinned knife ears was registering the fact he could no longer breath, Aurelius spun low, hammering his fist into the Salvaran's left knee, dropping the man to the floor, screaming. Attention was the last thing Drak'shal wanted, so he jumped on the man, clamping a hand over his mouth. The big sod squirmed beneath him, and Aurelius knew it was only a matter of seconds before the big bloke had the better of him. Grinning maliciously, the warlock summoned Shahab's Lash, forcing the black Hellfire down the bearded thug's throat. His body bucked under the tiefling, wracked with hideous spasms as he felt his internal organs being immolated in his chest.
Without hesitation, Aurelius got back to his knees, drawing one of his green-steel knives and plunging it through the Dark Elf's right eye-socket. Both men dead, the half-breed wiped his knife clean, inhaling the smell of char-grilled human deeply. He opened the door a crack to make sure no-one had heard the commotion. Sure his murders had gone unnoticed, the tiefling closed the door again, before dropping out the window.
It didn't take him long to find the tracks of the dirt-soaked pair.
---
The next day, as the girl and her minder cautiously entered the sewer drainage culvert, they were not alone. Keeping out of sight further back, utilising every sneaking skill he had picked up over the years, Aurelianus stalked after them, waiting for them to lead him to the Swaysong.
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