Darkhawk76
07-29-06, 10:31 PM
Solo
I’m not one to keep track of my money. I travel where I need to, sleep where I need to, eat where I need to, and spend where I need to. The only time I notice a need for money is when I open my purse and find it empty. Of course, it’s always a meal or sleeping quarters that is desperately needed when I find an empty purse.
This time, it was a meal.
I had walked out of a tavern in Lamberton, a bustling trading city of elves and dwarves nestled on the Raiaeran side of the Mountains of Twilight, and expected to breakfast on a few fruits bought in the open market. Sadly, my empty purse would not allow it.
This led to a necessary chain of events, as these types of things often do, that ended with me outside of a warehouse on the south side of town, looking for a bounty I had tracked all day. All of this for a rumbling stomach that begged to be fed.
The bounty I had been following was a man named Robby, wanted for multiple accounts of rape and murder. He wasn’t high on the list, garnering a small value, and had therefore been allowed to run a bit freer than the more high profile bounties. He was perfect for my needs though, a man who would probably be little trouble and gain me the money to keep moving.
I entered the gaping opening of the warehouse, my own elongated shadow escorting me in and disappearing into the mass of its fellows. The stinking smell of fish and salt assaulted my nose, and my ears heard the scurrying of rats. Containers as wide as small shacks and a head above my own were placed within, many of their sides showing signs of wet rot caused by the seafood held within.
I slipped between the cracks of the containers, my faded clothing gaining new stains from the makeshift walls. My blue eyes stared out from under my grey hood, keeping my eyes open for anything. My hands were at the ready, prepared to flick out my weapons at a moment’s notice.
My ears were suddenly filled with the sound of a closing gate. I had just enough time to look back and watch the Warehouse’s opening close, like the eyes of the dead being shut.
“You’ve been very, very sloppy about you’re trail, Kyle Delaney.”
The voice was gruff and strong, mocking my attempts to track down the fiend. How he got my name was anyone’s guess.
“I didn’t achieve the bounty I have by letting guys like you take me unaware.”
I smiled haughtily, for no other’s amusement but my own, and flicked out my blades, a dagger in my right hand and a stiletto in my left.
“Right, you achieved that by raping and killing young women. Then running and hiding.”
“We all get our kicks in our own ways.”
“Very true.”
The warehouse had become eerily dark, the oppressive shadows masking everything. Robby could have been anywhere. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Everyone, even if they deny it, gets scared when they’re up against something or someone they know next to nothing about.
Thinking about it, Robby must have been scared to. My own digging had told me he had had very few hunters on his tail. Mostly angry fathers and brothers who had no real ability save their own rage. They had been easily eluded or dealt with. I was the first hunter to actually come looking for him and seem to have some sort of skill to back it up.
The fright tactics of the closing gate and echoing voice was just that, fright tactics. Robby knew what he was up against, and while knowing didn’t always cause fear, sometimes it could cause more than the unknown.
“I’ll let you leave now, if you want. I don’t have a reason to kill you.” The voice had little tremor in it and was spoken with a cocksure attitude. I twirled my dagger with a bit of swagger. The man was scared. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been bargaining.
I kept moving forward, hoping to find him in the clutter of containers. I took a left, and then a right, the smell of rotting fruit now entering my nose. A few more turns and the smell was overcome by that of grains kept outside far too long. I kept moving, my eyes trying to break through as much of the gloom as possible and my ears opened for anymore of Robby’s taunts.
Instead I heard footsteps, heavy ones, running. I moved quickly, following the. He never came into view, but the sound gave away just the type of man he was. He was large, and while running as fast as he could through the maze wasn’t as fast as me. It wasn’t long before I heard ragged breathing. He was moving at random, doubling back at random intervals.
I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was following. Maybe he was trying to lose me, or set a trap. I heard his footsteps stop, his ragged breathing continuing. I stopped myself, still not seeing him in the gloom. I slowly moved forward and followed the breathing cautiously. Wherever he was, it was probably where he me wanted to be.
I turned a corner and saw him. He was large and burly, his face flat and brutish. He was weaponless, holding a weak lantern that only illuminated a small circle around him.
“You want me,” he whispered, “come and get me.”
He was serious and frightened. A dog in a corner. The joking was over. He knew I wouldn’t be scared off. He knew I could kill him. He was goading me, trying to move me into a trap.
I took a step forward anyway, preparing for whatever it was he had ready. He didn’t move. I took another. Nothing. I took a third. Again he was still.
I, however, was noticing a slick something under my feet. I sniffed the air discreetly, my face masked by my hood. The man was smarter than he looked. He had created a small oil slick. He had apparently not gauged it correctly.
I was standing some fifteen feet from him, on the edge of the oil.
I took a few steps back, seemingly retreating.
“You tell you’re other friends that they don’t want to mess with me, got it?” He had let a small smile come on his face. “I’m not that dumb and there are bigger fish they need to fry.”
Suddenly I was moving forward. Right where the oil began I jumped. I was halfway through the jump when Robby finally threw the lantern, my movement surprising him. It was too late. The lantern passed by me harmlessly as my left hand careened into his neck.
As a blaze of fire erupted behind me, Robby fell beneath me, my left hand burying my stiletto down his neck and into his chest.
I crouched there for a moment, savoring it. Robby could only take a few gasps, his body in utter shock at the few inches of steel jabbed into and down his corpulent neck. The blade throbbed from the rushing blood.
I had taken this man’s life. I chose whether he lived or died. My hand controlled him and destroyed him.
I liked that.
I’m not one to keep track of my money. I travel where I need to, sleep where I need to, eat where I need to, and spend where I need to. The only time I notice a need for money is when I open my purse and find it empty. Of course, it’s always a meal or sleeping quarters that is desperately needed when I find an empty purse.
This time, it was a meal.
I had walked out of a tavern in Lamberton, a bustling trading city of elves and dwarves nestled on the Raiaeran side of the Mountains of Twilight, and expected to breakfast on a few fruits bought in the open market. Sadly, my empty purse would not allow it.
This led to a necessary chain of events, as these types of things often do, that ended with me outside of a warehouse on the south side of town, looking for a bounty I had tracked all day. All of this for a rumbling stomach that begged to be fed.
The bounty I had been following was a man named Robby, wanted for multiple accounts of rape and murder. He wasn’t high on the list, garnering a small value, and had therefore been allowed to run a bit freer than the more high profile bounties. He was perfect for my needs though, a man who would probably be little trouble and gain me the money to keep moving.
I entered the gaping opening of the warehouse, my own elongated shadow escorting me in and disappearing into the mass of its fellows. The stinking smell of fish and salt assaulted my nose, and my ears heard the scurrying of rats. Containers as wide as small shacks and a head above my own were placed within, many of their sides showing signs of wet rot caused by the seafood held within.
I slipped between the cracks of the containers, my faded clothing gaining new stains from the makeshift walls. My blue eyes stared out from under my grey hood, keeping my eyes open for anything. My hands were at the ready, prepared to flick out my weapons at a moment’s notice.
My ears were suddenly filled with the sound of a closing gate. I had just enough time to look back and watch the Warehouse’s opening close, like the eyes of the dead being shut.
“You’ve been very, very sloppy about you’re trail, Kyle Delaney.”
The voice was gruff and strong, mocking my attempts to track down the fiend. How he got my name was anyone’s guess.
“I didn’t achieve the bounty I have by letting guys like you take me unaware.”
I smiled haughtily, for no other’s amusement but my own, and flicked out my blades, a dagger in my right hand and a stiletto in my left.
“Right, you achieved that by raping and killing young women. Then running and hiding.”
“We all get our kicks in our own ways.”
“Very true.”
The warehouse had become eerily dark, the oppressive shadows masking everything. Robby could have been anywhere. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Everyone, even if they deny it, gets scared when they’re up against something or someone they know next to nothing about.
Thinking about it, Robby must have been scared to. My own digging had told me he had had very few hunters on his tail. Mostly angry fathers and brothers who had no real ability save their own rage. They had been easily eluded or dealt with. I was the first hunter to actually come looking for him and seem to have some sort of skill to back it up.
The fright tactics of the closing gate and echoing voice was just that, fright tactics. Robby knew what he was up against, and while knowing didn’t always cause fear, sometimes it could cause more than the unknown.
“I’ll let you leave now, if you want. I don’t have a reason to kill you.” The voice had little tremor in it and was spoken with a cocksure attitude. I twirled my dagger with a bit of swagger. The man was scared. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been bargaining.
I kept moving forward, hoping to find him in the clutter of containers. I took a left, and then a right, the smell of rotting fruit now entering my nose. A few more turns and the smell was overcome by that of grains kept outside far too long. I kept moving, my eyes trying to break through as much of the gloom as possible and my ears opened for anymore of Robby’s taunts.
Instead I heard footsteps, heavy ones, running. I moved quickly, following the. He never came into view, but the sound gave away just the type of man he was. He was large, and while running as fast as he could through the maze wasn’t as fast as me. It wasn’t long before I heard ragged breathing. He was moving at random, doubling back at random intervals.
I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was following. Maybe he was trying to lose me, or set a trap. I heard his footsteps stop, his ragged breathing continuing. I stopped myself, still not seeing him in the gloom. I slowly moved forward and followed the breathing cautiously. Wherever he was, it was probably where he me wanted to be.
I turned a corner and saw him. He was large and burly, his face flat and brutish. He was weaponless, holding a weak lantern that only illuminated a small circle around him.
“You want me,” he whispered, “come and get me.”
He was serious and frightened. A dog in a corner. The joking was over. He knew I wouldn’t be scared off. He knew I could kill him. He was goading me, trying to move me into a trap.
I took a step forward anyway, preparing for whatever it was he had ready. He didn’t move. I took another. Nothing. I took a third. Again he was still.
I, however, was noticing a slick something under my feet. I sniffed the air discreetly, my face masked by my hood. The man was smarter than he looked. He had created a small oil slick. He had apparently not gauged it correctly.
I was standing some fifteen feet from him, on the edge of the oil.
I took a few steps back, seemingly retreating.
“You tell you’re other friends that they don’t want to mess with me, got it?” He had let a small smile come on his face. “I’m not that dumb and there are bigger fish they need to fry.”
Suddenly I was moving forward. Right where the oil began I jumped. I was halfway through the jump when Robby finally threw the lantern, my movement surprising him. It was too late. The lantern passed by me harmlessly as my left hand careened into his neck.
As a blaze of fire erupted behind me, Robby fell beneath me, my left hand burying my stiletto down his neck and into his chest.
I crouched there for a moment, savoring it. Robby could only take a few gasps, his body in utter shock at the few inches of steel jabbed into and down his corpulent neck. The blade throbbed from the rushing blood.
I had taken this man’s life. I chose whether he lived or died. My hand controlled him and destroyed him.
I liked that.