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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 4564257" data-attributes="member: 46615">During that period we, the Hydra, found Ship’s Cat to be a wealth of knowledge. For a small fee she provided us with all sorts of information on the Games; who we may meet and what threat they posed, various attempted maimings and ‘accidents’ and even a list of the prices that various gamblers were paying a victory in the first round for all of the know competitors. She proved to be a friendly and helpful girl.    It was now the twenty fourth day of Burn, two days before registration in the games, and all of us, barring Moxadder, who we had rarely seen over the last two weeks were enjoying a fine evening meal. Although Ship’s Cat who had shared our meals since we made her acquaintance was yet again (it had been the third night in succession) absent.    Moxadder burst into the room, violently pushing open the door to the common room where we sat. Suddenly self conscious, most eyes had turned to see who had made such a grand entrance, he hunched down into his cloak, still worn despite the heat, and slithered quickly toward us.    “Come, quick.” He whispered, peering about conspiratorially for any eavesdroppers, as he beckoned us to follow him.    Curious we did, wondering what the most dubious of the Hydra had to say. We led us to his room, which was a tight squeeze for the seven of us, but I managed to find a relatively clean wall to lean upon.     Moxadder looked about nervously, ensuring that both the shutters on his window and the door were closed before in a hushed tone he said, “Found that Ship’s Cat girl.”     He paused, eyes darting about. We waited for him to continue, but he did not. His expression glazed over and his left cheek twitched uncontrollably.     “Well! Tell us of Ship’s Cat!” I spat, annoyed that Moxadder had not been able to stay focused long enough to give us any more information.    “Ship’s Cat?” He said turning his dumbfounded gaze to me. “’S right. I found her. Behind a door in an alley screaming real loud and painful like.” He winced at the recollection.    “He must rescue her!” exclaimed Morgan as he slapped his fist into his palm.     We threw many ideas about as to how to rescue Ship’s Cat that varied in complexity. But in the end I managed to convince them that simple and quick was the best. If we could not fool them into opening the door for us, we would simply break it down.    “Are there enough of us?” ventured Mortec.    It was at the coincidental moment that there was a hard knock on the door. “Gerard? Are you in there?” boomed Absquith’s voice.    “Who’s that?” hissed Moxadder, a dagger suddenly appearing in his hand.    “My brother you fool! Put that away.” I said. I shook my head, bewildered at the suspicious nature of the Fastendian gutter rat.    I opened the door and greeted my brother. He had heard my voice and come to Moxadder’s door instead of my own. I made quick introductions and then filled him in on our plan.    Absquith was keen to help, “I’m spoiling for a good fight! I’ve been caged in Halfast too long waiting for these infernal Games to start.”    “I could rustle up plenty of men to assist that would appreciate a real combat rather than the constant sparring they do.” He added.     “Martigan you said your name was?” Absquith turned to face Morgan, who confirmed that was indeed his family name.    “Surely your brothers would appreciate an invitation to the little adventure? They are staying in the same apartments as I am.” Absquith continued.    And soon the eight heads of the Hydra stood assembled with Sir Absquith de Swanton in full kit including his breastplate that was emblazoned with a white swan’s head, his own crest. Also with us were Morgan’s three brothers, Cereef and Kerim who were accomplished warriors and Petuvary a priest of Thuus, and also the Massive Hand, that I found when Absquith, Morgan and I were collecting Morgan’s brethren. So it was that our expansive armed and somewhat boisterous company set off to rescue a damsel in distress.     My nostrils were almost inflamed; the alley stank of the muck and refuse of the city. I pulled a kerchief from my pocket, one can never have too many kerchiefs handy, and tied it across my nose and mouth to stifle the stench, drew Eldritch Light and moved forward.    At the end of the alley Thronis, a hulk of a man from the Massive Hand, Mortec and Moxadder stood at the door that Moxadder had heard Ship’s Cat’s agony previously. I heard Thronis pound on the door.    “Let me in! Heinrich sent me!” he bellowed, trying a bluff that the resourceful Moxadder had suggested.    I could not hear the reply but the door did not open. It seemed to me that the bluff had failed. I muttered to Thronis “I do believe that the door needs to be opened.”     He looked at me, comprehension completely vacant.    “Break the door down.” I said gently.    His eyes widened and with a bellow he thudded into the lane and crashed through the door. Light spilt out showing not only the filth in the alley but Thronis’s massive silhouette. Chaos was immediate.    I managed to squelch my way quickly through the gunk. I was faced with a huge empty room, well empty of things, not people, they were everywhere. At the back of the room about two dozen red robed and shaven headed women were leaping to their feet. A few local rogues and cutthroats that were in the warehouse were grasping for weapons. Ship’s Cat lay naked, strapped to a wooden table near the wall opposite the door.     “Vrsork.” hissed Moxadder from my left.     I followed his gaze and for the first time laid eyes on my lovers rapist. He was standing next to Ship’s Cat prone form. I dashed to him and as I thrust Rumscully’s blade into his chest I shouted, “Die scum. You will not touch Melinda again!”    His expression of shock and fear were immediately replaced by pain and anger. His rat like features contorted into rage as he hacked at me with his own sword.     I twisted away from his more swing and punctured him several more times whilst evading his pathetic swordplay. He dropped to his knees and threw his sword away. “Doan kill me.” He whimpered, tears rolling from his eyes.    My rapier was quick to sit against his throat. ‘Why not fiend?” I spat.    “’Corse I got info.” He screamed in a panic, “Yeah, yeah, info you wanna hear.” He continued quickly when he realised he was still alive.    I relaxed momentarily to hastily survey the carnage of the room. I had been so focused on Vrsork that I had not noted what else had happened in the battle.     The thugs and thieves lay dead about the floor. With them were several of the red robed women. But most it seemed had rushed the door and escaped. Thankfully none of our company had been downed, and those that had not pursued the women were tending to an assortment of nicks and gashes.    Mortec had rushed up, standing upon a chair that he had found, was administering Ship’s Cat as best he could. Petuvary offered his assistance, but soon took over from the Gnome who had managed to bind the albino’s wounds but not revive her.     “Moxadder!” I cried out.    He glared pure venom at me. It was only now that I remembered that earlier he had asked that he not be named. It was the most focused I had ever seen him.    But it was too late to conceal his identity, so I did not bother.    “Come here and question Vrsork. You seem to know more of what is going on than anyone else.” I said.    He strode angrily passed me and kneed Vrsork heavily in the face. Vrsork groaned and clutched his nose. It was smashed all across his face.    “Tell me what I wanna know or yer dead!” spat Moxadder.    I remembered a vial of strange liquid that we had found in the lair of Rumscully Jack and I had claimed. Its label read ‘Understand the mind of men. Concentrate and nothing will be hidden from you.’ It was still in a pouch on my belt. I unstoppered the bottle and with a shrug discreetly swallowed its milky coloured contents. It tasted sweet like honey, but with a vinegar aftertaste that made me blanch involuntarily. My mind was suddenly a buzz with thoughts. There were so many I could not distinguish them. My head began to hurt and then I recalled the lessons that Isabella had taught me for using her scarf. Focus, concentrate, dismiss the irrelevant.     I turned and stared at Vrsock who was now mumbling a reply through teeth clenched in pain. I heard his words and then almost suddenly his thoughts leapt clearly into my mind, all other thoughts had been vanquished.    He was saying that he did not know what had been happening here. His part of the deal was to get the girl here.    As he relayed that information an image of a thin, drawn male face crept into his mind. A scar ran down the man’s left cheek. Vrsork’s answered Moxadder’s question calmly, his nerves seemingly settled, but his mind betrayed a chilling fear of the man he pictured.    Moxadder was not impressed. Neither by his prisoner’s answer nor his cool demeanour. A dagger appeared from within Moxadder’s shirt. The rogue idly used its point to pick the dirt from a fingernail, all the while never dropping his penetrating gaze from Vrsork’s eyes.     I had never seen the Irudeshian so focused! His eyes were normally a strange glossy lustre. Not so now.     “Don’t feed me that sewer troll <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />!” spat Moxadder, “Tell me what yer and yer friends was doin’.”    Vrsork wiped the spittle from his cheek with his shoulder and sighed, “Awright. I’ll tell ye.”    Soon the villain was telling us all he knew. The man his thoughts had revealed to me was called Daregushi. Daregushi had organised to buy a huge amount of poison so that he could supply the red robed women who were actually devout followers of Geduld.     I think it was at about this time that I really began to think that fate existed. And I got the distinct impression that my own fate was inexorably linked with crazed followers of the evil death God. Just about every event that I had come across since originally arriving at Halfast had somehow been tied to the Dominions’ dark God.    Ship’s Cat had been brought in by himself because the Geduldians had thought she was asking too many questions and poking her little nose into things that it should not be in. She found out something about the purpose of strange women and she ended up in the warehouse to answer their questions.    As Vrsork spoke my mind read his. His thoughts revealed that he really was a nobody in the grand scheme, just a bit player who was scared of just about everyone else and terrified of the bald women.     The thief, Vrsork was just that, worked for the Silent Way, the local guild of cutpurses and racketeers. He mentioned that he answered to Decestratus and that he would not be happy with this evenings outcome. Decestratus was not one to be trifled with. An image of a stylish and well dressed middle-aged pudgy man leapt into my mind. A second picture follow it. One of the head of a many horned devil, just like the one Moxadder had found tattooed on the lepers that had attacked the Duchess and also on the pendant on the information broker Ornamon that he had dealt with on Sorcerer’s Isle.    Moxadder sensed the bravado returning to our most helpful prisoner and punched him once again in the face. Vrsork screamed again in agony.    “Doan get cocky now littl’ man. Moxy’s calling the shots now.” Moxadder grinned evilly as he relished the position of power he held.    “So did the big man Descestratus hook yer up with these Geduldians? Were yer doing a job for him?” probed Moxadder.    “Yeah, yeah, ‘sright. He set up the meet and the job.” Answered Vrsork quickly.     His mind betrayed him. It showed two cowled men each baring a ring with a broken dagger etched into it. I suddenly remembered the very ring that Prince Brand had thrown me when we had rescued the Duchess Servessa when she had been assailed by the lepers. These faceless men were Brand’s men, the very men that escorted him into the city all those weeks ago.    This was a most interesting development. The good Prince was somehow mixed up with the Geduldian’s and the poison. But who was to be poisoned?    “Wha’ ‘bout Heinrich? How is he involved?” blurted Moxadder. I did not understand the question as I had no idea who Heinrich was, although Moxadder did try to gain entrance to the warehouse by using that name.    “Heinrich? He aint involved. No need to get him to look the other way is there?” replied Vrsork as blood mixed with saliva dripped from his mouth.    My mind held yet another face. A grizzled man in his mid-years with many scars criss-crossing his face. His grin, that sat beneath a many times broken nose, showed several gaps amongst his yellow and brown teeth. There was no fear accompanying the face, just a feeling of respect.    “Heinrich is involved!” hissed Moxadder through suddenly gritted teeth. “Tell me wha he’s upto or I’ll gut ye right now!”    Panic spread through the wide eyed Vrsork. “Ok!” he screamed.    “He is in’on it  or at least paid off but I ‘aint dealt wif ‘im about it.” Sobbed Vrsork. “I honestly dunno what how much inoo it he is!”    Moxadder fought to calm himself.     I called my comrades out of Vrsork’s earshot and whispered what I had learned through reading his mind. At first they were startled that I had been able to do such a thing, but after explained what I had done they were much more accepting of what I had said.    “How much more worth is the man?” said Mortec, a faint gleam in his eye.    “None!” said Moxadder abruptly.    “I agree with Moxadder.” I said.    “So what do we do with him?” asked Morgan.    Moxadder walked to the bound man, leant over him and whispered something into his ear. Vrsork’s eye’s widened and his mouth opened to speak, but before he could Moxadder rammed a dagger into his chest with such force that both his victim and his chair fell backwards onto the dusty warehouse floor.    Moxadder’s grin faded and without retrieving his dagger he turned on his heel and stalked out from the room.    Some of my comrades were aghast at Moxadder’s action but I was pleased. I did not want to kill the man in cold blood, but Moxadder demonstrated why he can be such a useful member of the Hydra. He was willing to do whatever was necessary.    And Vrsork’s death was exactly that. We could not have freed him for it would have endangered us and alerted the poisoners as to how much we knew. We could not hand him to the city watch because whilst we were performing our civic duty they would not see the unauthorised violence that way. No, there was nothing else for it, he had outlived his usefulness and Moxadder had removed his weary soul from the world and from Melinda’s life. Both would be a better without it.</blockquote>

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