DoT: Witnesses and Repercussions

"Who is this?" asked Verity Red, studying the trembling woman whom the twins had brought in. They were accompanied by one of Verity's Blood Hunters -- Vallatha, she thought. 

"A witness," said Storm. 

"A woman with a tale," said Malice. 

Verity sighed. "Come over here. Sit down." The Blood Hunter touched the woman on the shoulder, then led her gently over to the chair across from Verity. The woman was still trembling. 

The table was a simple thing, small and circular and tucked away into one corner of the warehouse. It was mostly used for playing cards or dice. It was also the best-lit spot inside; the rest of the warehouse was dark. "Tell me your name," said Verity.

"It-- I forgot it," the woman said, and Storm laughed. 

Verity held up a hand to the twins, who -- thank the gods -- chose to obey her. "Try again," she said. "Take a deep breath. We aren't going to kill you, but I need to hear this, here, where nobody else can."

The smaller of the two warehouse doors slammed shut, and the woman flinched. Sharp steps crossed the darkness, tap-tap-tapping their way towards the table. Gorak threw himself down into the remaining chair, glared at the twins, and then turned to Verity. "All right, Verity," he asked, ignoring the woman. "What have we learned?"

"Nothing, as of yet," she said. "The twins say this woman has a story for us, but nobody seems able to stop scaring her long enough for her to gather her wits and speak."

"Ah," said Gorak, and finally turned to look at the human woman. "My apologies, then." He glared at the twins. "Storm, Malice, fetch us some brandy. I suspect we could all use something to steady our nerves."

"My nerves have no need of---" Storm cut off as Malice caught his elbow, and the two of them stalked away. 

"...They do well with their own territory," Gorak said quietly, with a glance at Verity, "but I swear, one of these days..."

Verity nodded. The twins didn't much concern her, but with the first lieutenant Varna Blackhand missing they could be troublesome. She didn't want the Red Blades to become disrupted and fractious; it might cause problems for her own people.  

The woman said, hesitant and quavering, "You really aren't going to kill me?"

Verity shook her head. "We just need you to tell us whatever you saw, and then we'll see you home -- safe and intact. The twins are... impulsive, sometimes."

The woman swallowed. She was human as Verity was, but older, her hair touched with silver and her eyes a bit less sharp. "All right," she began. "I'll tell you. I was working at my cart, busy with some customers, when one of you came by... and they all turned on him, and they killed him. It was magic, and I don't know magic, but... I can see an attack when it happens, I saw the webs they used to trap him, and then there was mist and I don't know what happened after that."

The twins returned with brandy and pewter cups, handed out the cups and poured for the woman and themselves, then set the bottle on the table. Gorak reached for it with a barely-suppressed snarl, his tusks gleaming, and poured for himself and Verity. 

"The one who was killed," Gorak said. "What did he look like?"

The woman looked at him, then drained half her cup in a swallow. "I've seen him before. Confident, broad-shouldered, wearing black and red. There's something about his left arm that isn't quite right. Couldn't say what; he never stops at my cart."

"And the ones that killed him?" Verity asked gently. 

The woman shuddered, eyes squeezed shut. "Never seen 'em before. You have to believe me, I had no idea..."

Verity believed her. The woman was so busy confessing that she could barely answer questions. "It's all right," she said again. "Just tell me what they looked like."

The woman drew a deep breath, then let it out. "There was... There was a halfling. And two humans, I think. Maybe an elf. When the fighting started, another elf... but that one never stopped at my cart. They was casting spells and fighting, and killed him almost before he knew they was there."

They'd have had to. Verity exchanged a glance with Gorak. "And then they covered the area with mist and escaped?"

The woman nodded. "Yar. Almost to my cart, but not quite. I called for help, but..."

"Very good," said Verity quietly. "Gorak, could you have some of your people see mistress...?"

The woman swallowed again. "Taritha, if you please."

"...Mistress Taritha back to her cart, and then to her home, with suitable gratitude for her help?"

Gorak nodded somberly. "Yes. Come on, Miss. It's time to get you back."

DoT: A More Narrow Escape

Werril felt his magic surge as he made the transition, and did his best to brace himself. A wild surge could be good, bad, weird, or all three. In this case, he arrived at the wood-and-rope bridge to discover that he was surrounded by copies of himself -- illusions, shifting and changing places. It wasn't terrible, but it was eye-catching in a way that he he very much did not need right now.

He made it to a small platform before a woman hailed him from a side-bridge. "What happened?" she asked. "Are you in danger?"

He turned and managed not to visibly wince. This wasn't just one of the Red Blades gang; this was one of their cultists, the ones who marked their clothing and armor with a red teardrop. He shook his head, and opened his mouth to lie...

What he meant to say was, "I took a shortcut, and my magic decided to be weird." 

What actually came out of his mouth was, "Misty step to escape, and my magic decided to--" He caught himself. "Uh-- that is, I'm a wild mage."

"Ah," she said, but her eyes narrowed. "And what were you escaping?" She gestured towards the cloud of mist below them. "What happened down there?"

Werril sighed. It would be great if his magic had seen fit to give him access to Invisibility, but it hadn't. Okay, next trick... He tapped his staff gently on the ground and smiled. "Well, it's a good thing you're here, friend. Why don't you go down and take a look?"

For a moment, she looked dazed as the magic took effect. Then she smiled. "Good idea. I'll do that. You should come and help."

"I'd love to," he told her, "but I really need to get on with my business." The images around him were fading, finally. "Why don't we catch up later?"

"Yeah, I-- is that screaming?" The Red Blade sighed. "I'd better go see what's going on. Take care, my friend."

Werril managed not to sag in relief before he hurried away. He was going to have to find a better way to hide himself.

DoT: Confrontation

It was two days later when Varna Blackhand finally came down the bridge that Sairen and Byron had chosen. Varna was a fearsome figure, dressed in black and red, his missing left arm replaced with a mummy's withered appendage. He looked around casually, but didn't appear to see anything amiss. As he passed, Sairen hissed, and the other four turned away from the soup cart and began their attack. 

It was an open bridge in the early afternoon, which was more public than Werrill would have preferred; the problem was that anything that kept them out of sight would have made it more obvious that they were up to something. Still, if they could finish the job quickly, they had a good chance to be gone before more redblades arrived or anyone else got a good look at their faces. Byron, the halfling cleric, opened their strike with a Guiding Bolt. Melia followed that up with Web, spreading a mass of sticky strands between two storefronts to block their target's escape. Werril was already casting as well; he threw an ice knife and then followed it up with a quickened Ray of Sickness.

Varna staggered and turned, just as Sairen came up on his left, stabbing Varna with his rapier. Danna was coming up on his right, axe in one hand the flaming blade of her sword in the other; she cut him, but missed with her axe. It didn't matter, though: before Varna had a chance to react, Byron tagged him with another Guiding Bolt, and he collapsed. 

Surprise achieved, thought Werril, and whistled sharply. He and Byron hurried forward, while Melia pulled a scroll from her belt and began casting from it. A moment later, fog covered the bridge, hiding their movements and their faces. Werril made his way by feel, pulling Byron along with him. Their job was to spread out the seemingly-abandoned bundle of cloth that lay against the rail of the bridge. Danna appeared a moment later, carrying Varna's shoulders while his head lolled freely. Sairen had the man's feet -- and, it seemed, his purse -- and the two of them dropped the body onto the cloth. Werril and Byron rolled everything up and secured the ties; then the four of them lifted to corpse and tossed it over the side of the bridge. It was harder than it looked; the cloth had been weighted with rocks. 

Then they were moving again. Melia, coming up behind them, paused just long enough to turn Danna invisible and then herself. Byron had given himself the seeming of a dwarven beggar, while Sairen had given himself the appearance of an elven woman. Werril didn't have access to any such illusions, so he strolled to the edge of the fog, looked up at a bridge overhead, and took a Misty Step up to it.  

DoT: Fatal Decisions

"He's irregular," said Sairen, the dark elf. They'd been taking turns following Varna Blackhand, the foremost lieutenant of the Red Blades, for a week and a half now. "Everybody has habits, but he's careful to vary his."

Melia, the human wizard, scowled, and Werril couldn't blame her. He disliked Sairen only slightly less than she did, but ever since they'd been plucked from prison the five of them had been stuck together. Working to undermine the thieves' guild, or at least that was the assignment. Their initial efforts had set off a few minor conflicts, but as they grew in skill and confidence they had decided on another goal: they were going to take it over. 

Gods, I would have loved to be responsible for the death of Anderlin Greycloak, Werril thought, then shook it away. They were back to inciting violence between the lower city gangs, and as far as he could tell --- and the halfling Byron and the dark elf Sairen both agreed -- the Red Blades were likely the easiest to provoke. They'd need a success here before they could move to interfere in the middle city. 

"We know where he sleeps," said Melia, their wizard. "But it's their headquarters. We can't take him there, and we don't want to take him anywhere within easy earshot of that place."

Werril nodded. He wasn't much of a tactician; most of what he did was listen to the others, help integrate their ideas, and keep them from each others' throats. 

"If it were myself alone," Sairen said, "I'd simply wait near there, follow him, and take him out. With a group like this--" He managed to keep the contempt out of his tone, but only barely. "--our best bet is to station ourselves along a likely route and ambush him when he comes along it. If we pick a good spot, he will -- sooner or later."

Byron nodded, the halfling's expression untroubled. "I think that's the best we can do."

"Heh," said Danna. "You just tell me when and where, and I'll be there."

Werril opened his mouth to caution her, then closed it again. Livethern had told them what Varna was capable of, and if Danna disregarded that, well... that was on her. Their patron could pay the cost of restoring her, if that was what it took. "Sairen, Byron... you two choose the place. The rest of us will figure out how to use it to best advantage." 

DoT: A Discussion

"They haven't engaged," said Livethirn, looking around at his charges accusingly. "You killed the fence, didn't you?"

"Fuck you. We did what you asked," said Danna, putting a hand on her sword and glaring at the elf across the table. She was human, frustrated with their servitude, and easily goaded to anger. 

Werril sighed. He was a half-elf, and far too used to being caught in the middle of arguments. "We killed the fence. Word is, the Mist Eyes found him and brought him back. If you want, we can make him dead again... but if you want them at odds with the Red Blades, set us against Varna Blackhand. We can take him, I promise you."

Melia, their wizard -- a not-unattractive human -- nodded agreement, and the halfling cleric Byron shrugged.  

Livethirn considered that for a long moment. "As you wish," he said. "They'll think it an attack and respond in kind. That will serve nicely."

"I'm glad you agree," Werril said, holding back his sarcasm by an act of will. 

"Then make Varna your next target," said Livethirn, and rose from his seat.  

Music: Simple Gifts (and various other titles)

Played by Lee Leavenworth:

Music: Burn Down This Town

Roseanne Cash: