The thread which needs a title...

I saw someone slip out of the window. I decided to follow his tracks. They lead to an inn that I was supposed to meet someone in. I went to where the guy was.
"You are late. Have you killed him yet?"
I throw my guard suit off to reviel an orc dressed exactly like a civilized human.

[ooc]there are you happy now Jarinor. It turns out that I am the one who hired you.

 

As the drunk stumbled out through the window, I had let out a heavy sigh. After lowering my head, A hand ran back through my hair. "Crap!" I kept repeating over and over again in my head.

I wasn't about to follow him. Too dangerous, and he would probably expect it. Instead I simply decided to wait a little bit. Word travels fast through the alleys and backstreets. Maybe I would hear something again. Or maybe I could find a larger source of income.

And there were people who couldn't figure out why some people ended up homeless. If they were anything like me, they could never catch a break.

 

[OOC]

Not really Quethim. 1. I never went inside another inn, I simply began travelling there...

2. I didn't 'slip out'. I fell out, like a drunk would do.

3. If you truly were the person who hired me, you wouldn't be so stupid as to come up to me so soon afterwards, or so conspicously either. Then again, your character is an orc, so maybe he might.

4. How does your orc get the money to hire me? My character is an assassin, and his services do not come cheaply. Hence, your orc being rich would mean that he must be intelligent, which cancels out the point made in my last point (No. 3 if you can't figure that out).

5. My character is a master of disguise. So how you are able to follow me, when you don't know what I look like, and when there is already at least one other person following me, is beyond me.

5. An orc is not going to be so stupid as to reveal himself as an orc in public when he can pass for a human.

6. At least you're not an elf :smile:.

JustAGeek, don't count yourself out of the thread just yet...[/OOC]

I heard the ever-so-soft tread of someone behind me. Damn. I knew better than to look around, but I would need to see this person. As I turned the street corner, I entered the alleyway I knew to be on the left, and waited in the shadows. The person appeared to be window-shopping, but no one window shops at night unless they are a fanatical window shopper, or are trying to give themself a plausible excuse for following someone. This fellow looked vaguely like someone I'd seen in the bar. I waited for him to come closer so I could get a better look at him...

 

[OOC]
Oh, don't worry. I am not counting myself out just yet. I actually have a couple ideas of which direction to go in next, I am just waiting to see which one will present itself first. :smile: GAME ON!
[/OOC]

 

I crouched quietly in the alleyway, watching my trailer. I fixed his face in my memory. It was now a waiting game. Would he go away, or would he invesitigate further. If he decided to go away, I wouldn't stop him. I didn't know him, but that didn't mean much. No one knew me, or what I looked like, except by reputation. I never met with my clients.

If he came too close though, a quick leap and a knife in the throat would ensure he wouldn't be telling anyone anything...I slowly drew my knife, so as to not make any noise. Hell, even I couldn't hear myself take it out...

 

[OOC] Thanks quethim, for not playing along with my post. I guess you didn?t like the idea of having to answer to a captain of the guard?[OOC]

After assigning my rookie to some bullshit task, I headed in the direction of the closest tavern. Surely, someone in there heard or saw something, I thought. After swinging open the heavy oaken door, I made my way to the bar.

"How ya doin, cap?" Muggs the bartender was busy cleaning a beer mug. "Wanna cold one?"

"Naw, thanks anyway Muggs. Hey listen, anything strange happen in here in the last, oh, 10 minutes?" I asked.

"No, unless you count drunks coming in, falling on their face, drinking themselves into a stupor strange. Well, I did see something a little unusual. A big-ass half-ogre come bustin' in here, asking me if I had a bang-bang. I told him, 'yeah, I got your bang-bang right here'" Muggs said, grabbing his crotch.

"No, what did you REALLY tell him, Muggs?"

"Jus' told him I don't know what you're about, and he wheeled around and left."

While Muggs and I were talking, I took this opportunity to survey the room. A drunk, covered in stinking rags, leaned over too far out of a window and fell out. A gentleman in the bar moseyed over and inquired if the he was hurt. After a moment, the gentleman walked back to his chair and sat down. I scoffed. Stupid drunks. I wondered how he even had money to buy his poison with. Other than these two, seated at the bar on my left, was another man, dressed sloppily, and smelling strongly of alcohol.

"How about you, buddy? You see anything?" I asked.

No response...

"I asked you a question, sir!" I said, getting up from my stool and heading in his direction. The man had the look of someone deep in thought. "Did you see or hear anything?" I asked again, taking the stool next to him.

"No sir..." he replied, without moving his head to look at me. He still appeared lost in his thoughts.

"What's your name?" I asked, now disgusted. In the dim tavern light, I was unable to make out just how filthy he was, until I was seated right beside him. He stank of garbage, rotted food, and strongest of all, alcohol.

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: retard on 2002-02-22 11:47 ]</font>

 

"So, if it aint the famous Captain of the Guards." I said sarcastically while rolling my eyes a bit.

"What do you possibly want with a street rat like me?"

Standing up, I had showed him my pockets were empty, and there were no signs of a gun anywhere.

"Obivously I didn't do it. Go bother someone else..."

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Just A Geek on 2002-02-22 11:08 ]</font>

 

The drunk was obviously irritated by my questioning him. After a quick search revealed nothing, I tipped my hat to him, thanked Muggs, and turned to walk out the door.

Something in the back of my mind was burning, but I just couldn't figure out what it was.

I walked over to the window that the first drunk had fallen out of, just to satisfy my curiosity. He was gone. Probably after his next fix, I thought, and shrugged.

A flash of movement caught my eye. Leaning out the window, I saw nothing, but I coulda swore something ducked in an alley a couple of blocks down the long, dark alley that was laid out behind this tavern and several other establishments on this, one of the busiest streets in Tarant. It was awful quiet tonight, though. Most folks, afraid of the half-ogre bodyguards, or getting killed themselves, had retreated to the comfort of their own homes.

I walked out of the front door of the tavern and stepped into the night air. It was thick enough to walk on, too thick to breathe. I coughed at the change in humidity. I decided to walk behind the tavern when no one was looking, and just take a peep down the alley. There were always dead bodies being found down there, mostly homeless guys, down on their luck and last bottle of booze. There was also the occasional prostitute. I figured, if scum was ANYwhere, the alley would be a good place for it. At least to hide until the heat dies down, if nothing else. After the last pedestrian walked away, I quickly ducked in the shadows and made my way to the back of the tavern and the alley behind. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.

 

[ooc] Fatman, this is a minor point but why is your mother being kept on Thanatos and not on half-ogre island? [ooc] :grin::

I walk along the warf, god this city stinks, the smell of industrial sewage mixed with dead fish make me want to gag. I finally get to 113 Iron Post Row a large warehouse its brick walls stained by soot and brine. The bum slumped over a puke stained crate raises his head and stares at me with a too sober look and then slumps back down. I fit my key into the rusty and battered door and push lightly. The door swings open silently on well greased hinges. The other side of the door is spotless high grade steel. By the quality I can tell its not dwarven made, but it is close. Inside the warehouse is filled with crates, the place is a maze. I move further into the warehouse and come to a small office. A series of knocks and the door opens inside is a well dressed man smoking a cigar. Dispite the smoke it smells like rotting flesh inside.
"Well?" he asks
"It's done, I waited and he was dead for sure."
"Good, the Master only has a few things left for you to do and then payment shall be rendered in full."
"None to soon, you and your city smell like the barracks crapper at the wheel clan."
Without a flicker of emotion he replies "wait for your instructions at the appointed place."
No use responding so I take my leave and walk back into the night.

 

I checked the hole in the back of the carriage, looking closely at the torn wood to guage an angle of entry. The board was cheap and thing, so there wasn't much to go on. I knew also that my late "employer" had been forward on the bench from the force of the blow, so there wouldn't be any further help from there. Still, I ruled out a few of the potnetial sniping positions I'd noted earlier.

As I concluded my examination of the carriage, some kind of city guard - a captain from his insignia - arrived on the scene. He didn't pay me any immediate attention, possibly dismissing me as just another dumb guard, but I didn't want to be around if and when he decided to round us up for the gnomes. I decided to go investigate one of the possible marksman placements. I chose the one that took me most directly away from the guardsmen.

Soon I found myself in an alley, there wasn't much to see except a few piles of rubbish. Something bothered me about the alley. Something wasn't right. I couldn't figure it out - it was empty but for the ... rubbish piles! That was it.

Moving toward one particular pile, I could see more clearly the fact that my subconcious must have registered all along; it had recently been disturbed, as if by an impact. Specifically, it looked like someone had jumped into it from a fair height.

Looking up, I judged the roof above me was one of the flat ones I'd marked as a possibility earlier. My confidence was growing that I'd stumbled across the right place.

Reaching up, my height allowed my, when stretching to gain a purchase on the roof. I hauled my self an inch off the floor and edged one of my hands further onto the roof. Shortly, I had a better hold and pulled and scrabbled my way onto the roof. The rough surface grazed my uniform a bit, but my tough hide wasn't affected.

On the roof I looked around. In the street I could see the carriage perfectly. It was still a hive of (mainly pointless) activity. My poor eyes couldn't make out much (I'd never make a decent sniper!), but I thought I could see a few more city uniforms in the area. I wouldn't be going back there unless I decided I wanted to be taken back to Half-Ogre Island and re-indentured.

Closer to hand, I found my evidence; lying on the roof near my feet was an expensive looking rifle. I don't know guns, but it had a sinister sleekness that whispered "assassin's weapon." Noting nothing else of use on the roof, I picked up the weapon, turned and jumped into the pile of rubbish - just as the assassin must have done a little while before.

Back down in the gloomy confines of the alley, I flexed my shoulders to loosen some remaining kinks form being hunched in that damn rickety death-trap all morning, and pondered my next move.

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Sheriff Fatman on 2002-03-11 05:14 ]</font>

 

Headstrong. Impatient. My mothers words come ringing back to me as I stepped from the light of the street and onto the dark damp alley. Why couldn't I have gone for some backup? I questioned myself. Without concious thought, I found myself patting my hip, feeling the contours of my fine revolver. Pearl-handled, stainless barrel with black trimmings, it was a thing of beauty. It had been handed down to me by my dad, after he retired from the Tarant Guard Force. Although not accurate beyond 40 yards, it was deadly powerful. I gave it one more reassuring pat, and tucked my suede jacket in behind the holster, and checked the safety. All of this was unneccessary however. A quick check into the alley proved fruitless, besides finding the dead body of another homeless drunk. I sighed. More paperwork, I said to myself. I stepped out of the alley, back on to the street and it hit me like 10,000 stones. I remembered who the smart-assed drunk in the Mugg's tavern was. Alex something-or-other. Most well known as "Diggs" for his garbage digging. However, Diggs had one thing that set him apart from most drunks and homeless. He knew how to play the game. He had street smarts, yeah, but as a youth, he was actually well educated. He had been an informant for Tarant's finest on many an occasion, and I was willing to bet my grandmother that he knew a little more than he let on in the tavern. I sped towards the tavern, hoping his sorry ass hadn't left, kicking myself for not recognizing him. I hadn't seen him for 6 years. Amazing how much that kinda time will change a man. Checked my pocket watch....Almost 3 a.m. The trail was getting colder by the second......

 

I am headed back to my inn once again walking along the warf. The fog is coming on thick and already I can only see twenty feet in front of me.
Not for the first time I question my judgement in taking this job. My search for the tome "Durin's Truth", had already taken twenty years whne I found myself in Tarant low on coin. I had answered an ad in the Trant Tribune for a job reparing a series of capacitors at Miles Denton's plant. The job was easy enough and I was finished in a week, with enough coin to get me to Caladon, my next stop in my search. However, my work had brought me to the attention of......."WHAT THE FU!!"
An arm translucent and grey wraped its self around my throat and began to squeeze. I had never replaced the fuse in my boot and my ring was useless. whoever was behind me was strong and I was picked up my legs kicking the air and I began to see flickers of light at the edge of my vision. I slammed my right elbow into my assailent to no effect. I kicked back and down with my heavy boot desperation giving me extra force. My heel connected to its knee crushing the joint. Without a sound it let me go as it fell back. I turned around a salt water goul. The creature began to crawl toward me. I let it come, its hand grabbed my boot and it pulled itself closer to me. I calmly drew my high velocity pistol and fired a shot between its eyes. Small hole going in, big hole going out.
Well it looks like my services are no longer needed by the "master." Well there might still be a way to salvage the situation. I've got to get to my bolt hole and pick up a few things.

 

"So you are the one who hired someone to kill" A man in a deep voice asked me. His voice did not seem alive but more like a dead. He then turned around and he looked like a human. He then pulled out a bladed ring and slit my thoat. "You fool!The one that died had a cure for me and now I will stay cursed forever!" He then walked out and I died.
[ooc] I am going to be playing this new guy.[/ooc]

 

I heard my trailer leave. Damn. I'd been too careless. I'd have to get back to my room, and soon too. A bath would be handy as well - I stank, and I needed to keep suspicion off me.

I moved around in the shadows, looking for others who might be looking for me...

Satisfied that I was safe for now, I left the alleyway, but still stayed in the shadows as much as possible while moving as quickly as I could.

I reached the inn without further incident, and straight away went for the bathhouse. While the water was bound to be cold, no one was going to be in there either.

I steeled myself, and went inside. This was not going to be fun...

 

I went straight to where the cariage was. I saw a bunch of people gathering around it. I searched the cariage for anything about a cure. Nothing! I then went to where the gnome lives. I saw a lot of ogres there.
"Funny man you not enter."
"Excuse me ogre but I need to get inside!"
I then pulled out my bladed ring.

 

I had gone back into a relatively unpopulated area, for I knew it was only a matter of time. There was a brief flash of light as the match caught fire, lighting the cigarette dangling from the edge of my mouth. Taking a drag as I looked downward, I waited.

The smoke billowed from my mouth as I exhaled, leaning up against the alley wall. Leaning against the wall as well, next to a pile of garbage, was what would seem to be your run-of-the-mill Looking Glass Rifle.

"Come on, where the hell are you?"

I knew this was the usual meeting place. I only had to wait.

 

I rounded the corner and found myself staring down a long, narrow, dank alley. Damn, this city's got a lotta alleys, I thought to myself. A flicker of light at the end of the alley caught my attention. Someone lighting a cigarette. I walked cautiously down the alley.

"Well, I thought you would never get here, cap." It was Diggs, in all his finery.

"Diggs, you look like orc-shit. I almost didn't recognize you in the tavern. You weren't followed here were you?"

"Nope. You know me better than that. So, what do you want, and how much are you willing to pay for it?" Diggs asked, sneeringly.

As my eyes became adjusted to the dark of the alley, I noticed something propped up near where he was standing. It was a Looking Glass Rifle. "Diggs... You didn't..."

"Hell, no, it wasn't me. Wow, we HAVEN'T talked in a while, have we? Doncha know I woulda hid the damn thing if I hadda been the shooter? Lets talk money, cap...."