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Message: <blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4912938" data-attributes="member: 3285">Gangs of Freeport: Part 2 – Just One of the GangVlad stood over the last corpse of the thugs who had ambushed him.  He was about to return to the street to help his friends when he sensed a presence in the room.Standing half-concealed in the shadows was a figure clad in ratty trousers and a worn cloak. His hood was pulled down low across his face.“This is a surprise,” said a gravelly yet familiar voice.  “Vlad Martell, if I recall correctly.”Vlad didn’t sheathe his blade.  “Finn?”Finn removed the cloak, his puffy features marred by a shiner around his left eye. “Yes.  These are strange times.  That is why I have come to you.  I need your help. Freeport needs your help.” Vlad sheathed Grungronazharr.  “I’d love to, but my friends are bleeding in the street.”Finn smiled.  “I like that about you Vlad.  You care about people.  That is why I have chosen you.  Your friends will be taken care of.  Take a look out the window.”Vlad peered out the window the thug had been using to snipe at him.  Sure enough, cloaked figures scuttled out to bind the wounds of his companions.  A cart pulled up and they were placed in it.“Where are you taking them?”“Somewhere safe,” said Finn.  “We’re running out of those sorts of places.”“What happened to your eye?”“I said these were strange times.”  Finn gestured at another seat that Vlad had kicked over in the melee.  “Please, have a seat.”Vlad sat down.“I come to you, Vlad, because I have run out of options. There’s a crime wave swamping Freeport since you left.  Someone has organized the gangs. And I don’t mean the usual nonsense, I mean all of the gangs are united.  It’s unnatural, for common criminals to be so focused on a single goal.  Men who were sworn enemies since they knew the soft end of a woman from the biting end are working together now like brothers.”“Which gangs?”“The Cutthroats.” He pointed at the dead man near the window.  “That tattoo on his neck will identify those men as members of the Cutthroat Gang.  I followed them here to see what they were up to—they were preparing to take you out, once you left Cresh Manor.”“So the Cutthroats teamed up with the other gangs?”“The Buccaneers, yes.”“But not your Syndicate?”Finn snorted.  “My own people have been behaving strangely.  I have said this before to Kham—the Syndicate does not sell drugs.  Not now, not ever.  But these gangs, these mongrels, they have this new poison on the streets called Ghoul Juice.  And it’s taken over their lives. Then it finally spread to my own men.”“That’s how you got that shiner?”“I have a strict no drug policy.  But then one day one of my bodyguards, one of my own men, asked me to try some Ghoul Juice.  When I said no, he jumped me.”Finn pounded one fist into the other.  For a moment Vlad thought he was nervous, but then he realized that the smaller man was shivering with rage.  He had never seen Finn angry.“My own boys tried to hold me down and shove the stuff into my face.  My own boys…” Finn’s voice trailed off.  He slowly shook his head, as though still bowed by the weight of what happened. “There is serious magic at work here.  I need men I can trust, and I am running out of those.  I can no longer trust my muscle…the only men I’ve got are the ones taking care of your friends.”“Where were you attacked?” asked Vlad.“There’s a small shack in Scurvytown, over near Dreaming Street. I was going down there to have a conversation with some of my men, who were addicted to Ghoul Juice. Given the state most of them were in when I left, they and the Ghoul Juice might still be there.”Vlad crossed his arms.  “Why should I help you?”Finn nodded.  He had been expecting the question.  “For one, I am very unhappy with the release of Estaboth.”  Before Vlad could say anything, Finn held up one pudgy hand.  “But I understand you are a humanitarian.  So if you do this thing, I will forgive this slight. For another, I am the only thing keeping your friends safe.  You are a marked man.  Finally, although we may have our differences, consider the alternative.  They don’t call it Ghoul Juice for nothing.”“What about Drak and his followers?”Finn peered sideways at Vlad.  “Who?”“You know, the orcs?”Finn looked out the window.  “Dead, probably. Or long gone before my men helped you with your little problem.  I’m not interested in a dirty pile of greenskins anyway. Do we have a deal?“Vlad considered.  “I’ll do it.”Finn closed his eyes.  “Find the head of this snake and cut it off, Vlad.  Or Freeport will never be safe again.”</blockquote>

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