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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2905518" data-attributes="member: 10105">Here Comes TroubleIt was a sweet relief, so it was, to emerge from that last Gate.  The sewers of Narayan, at last!  They'd never smelled sweeter!So to speak.Turned out we were just across the street from the Maison Chatons, in a dry canal-bed; Fancy was obviously using the foul place as his final bolt-hole.  By now, after all we'd been through, the only thing keepin' me goin' was the thought of the beatin' we'd be givin' the bastard when we got our hands on 'im.We came up onto the street, and gave the back of the Maison a thorough goings-over.  Still a fortress, if a gaudy one, and damnably tough nut to crack.  I was all for kickin' the door down, but the Pretty Man still wanted to talk, damn his eyes.And it was just then that another foreigner came struttin' down the street.  Another damned Azikhanni, he was.  Long moustache, a dress even fancier than the Pretty Man's, and from the look on his face you could tell that he fancied himself the king of the world.The two Bastards looked at each other, kinda uncomfortable, like they recognized the fellow.  And he walked right up and began gabblin' away at them in foreign talk, about Oroborous only knows what.  Maybe they were related, or somethin'...I dunno.  All I do know is that the crazy bastard threw in his lot with us right then and there.Justice, Gerard?  Maybe so, maybe so...that's what he claimed, at least.  Said he'd been in the place, not knowin' what kinda place it was, and had walked out all outraged.  Might even have been true...but I doubt it.  He didn't seem the sort to be concerned about an outrage like the Maison.  No, he was a trouble-maker, pure and simple.  That's what I called him, in fact. Trouble.He gave me his name, sure.  But it was more Azikhanni gibble-gabble, and I couldn't be arsed to remember it.But there they were, chattin' away like it was some kinda tea party, when someone called to us from the top floor of the Maison.  Wanted to know what we were about, and I gott admit that was a reasonable enough question.  It was Elspeth, the madame of the place, and she didn't sound in the least bit worried.And the Prettty Man, he starts in with the threats right off.  "Give us Fancy," he tells her, polite as can be, "And we will let you live."  And the hell of it is, he believed it, too.  You could tell. Like he could cut his way through the stone wall around the place, and right through the side of the building.Maybe he could, even.  I wouldn't have been surprised.They called back and forth for a while, and he managed to convince her that harborin' Fancy was a bad idea.  She didn't seem to take all that much convincin', to be honest...she musta known how many bridges he'd already burnt that night.She wouldn't let the girl go, though.  Poor little Calliope.  Wouldn't budge on that, damn her.  But Fancy?  He was on his own.  She had him thrown out into the street, 'round the front.  Couldn't see it, but we could hear him complainin' about it.And then...you won't believe it, friends.  Gods know, I didn't.  Still don't.The Bastards let Fancy go.After all that, they let him walk.  Well, scamper...he took off like his arse was on fire.  But the principal's the same!  Man who wants them dead, the man they've chased across the damned world, a man who's set a dozen traps for them....And they f----n' let him go.  Didn't even bother walkin' around front to see him off proper.It's the dresses they wear, I think.  Let's too much air reach the privates, and that can't be good for a man.  Muddles their way of thinkin'.  There's no other answer.Why did they let him go? Strange ways men in dresses got, and make no  mistake, though he wore tight pants while he led us on that merry chance through the Hell of Crabs and Meat-fishers, I just know Fancy's got a closet full of 'em. Low cut'n sequined.  Mark my words.I'll give 'em this much, though: They still wanted to rescue the girl, and bring the Maison down.  So they ain't entirely morally bankrupt. Just crazy.Trouble did some kinda magic, maybe the Bloody Archer vanish so that he could inflitrate the place from the rear.  The rest of us, we went around front to make some noise.  As a distraction, like.The Pretty Man, he actually knocks on the door, still all polite. Truth be told, I wasn't even surprised this time around.  I was just kinda numb by this point.They told us to bugger off, of course.  Guards might even have been laughin' at us.Last damn mistake they ever made.</blockquote>

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