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They had, of course, been glad to hear about how he'd handled Tongue-Toad. His fellow guildmates had sent word of his accomplishment ahead of the storm. Now, as luck would have it, they had a new assignment for him - this one a bounty put up by the Ordinators for a Khajiit outlaw who was "somewhere here in Vivec - St. Olms, I think."
Naturally, Garyn sets out for the first location Lorbulg had mentioned - the head office of the Ordinators. This, a passing guard had curtly told him, was in the Hall of Justice at the High Fane - the two slim spires at the end of the central canal, beneath the giant floating rock they called the Ministry of Truth.
The mer to talk to is a severe-looking fellow by the name of Elam Andas. Garyn judges him as reasonable, but about as cheerful as Ald'ruhn is wet. Turns out even the lead of St. Olms is more than the Ordinators know. Curious, that.
In any case, their efforts were now divided with the rash of mysterious killings that had been sweeping through the city. Yesterday two guards had stumbled upon the killer in the act and had their throats slit before they could draw their weapons. Any information he could provide about that would be rather more helpful.
This, of course, is more than Garyn knows. Andas nods, and gives Garyn his leave.
"An outlander like you ought to be careful," he says. "The killer seems to have it out for foreigners."
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Garyn isn't usually surprised when speaking Ta'agra pays off, but he wasn't expecting it to pay off in St. Olms Canton in Vivec City. A few words with some Khajiit by the canalworks narrowed down his search considerably. The crook was hiding in comfort - an apartment built into the canton itself, rather than the stilted shacks that lined most of the canals.
A quiet knock on the door. Then a louder one. Then, in flawless Senchal Ta'agra, Garyn speaks.
"Dro'Sakhar! We have to move!"
The door cracks open. It's all he needs.
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Garyn wipes his sword as the Ordinator inspects the corpse. What little conversation the bandit had made before he attacked had confirmed that this was the Khajiit Garyn was looking for, as did his personal effects.
He'd searched a little more thoroughly than the Ordinator had. But he could find nothing tying him to the guild, or to any organization of any kind. As far as he can tell, this is a legitimate bounty on an independent outlaw.
"I'll inform the Order of the Watch," the Ordinator says. "They will send the bounty along to your guild. Collect your reward from your guildmaster."
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He'd had to wait a couple days for more work. Lorbumol hadn't been expecting him to return so quickly. He seemed almost as annoyed as he was pleased.
Garyn almost wishes he were still waiting. Now he's at the Rat in the Pot in Ald'ruhn again, this time on a debt collection job. He's always hated shakedowns. The marks either don't want to be found or have some pathetic story or another. Sometimes both. And often times - far more often than he'd like - the sad story turns out to be true.
This one's name is Lirielle Stoine. She's easy enough to find - a skinny Breton with short, red hair, keeping to herself at a corner stool. She doesn't deny it either.
"My brother Ruran is dead," she says quietly, her eyes not leaving Garyn's. "I'm sure of it. The Camonna Tong said that he owed them money, which I don't dispute."
She breathes deeply and her eyes narrow. "But now they say that I owe my brothers debts. I don't have 2000 drakes. I've never had that much money. I can't well pay what I don't have, can I?"
Garyn grimaces. "No, I expect not. But I can't go back to the guild empty-handed either. Your brother -"
"Is dead. A dead fool who has already paid for his foolishness. He knew he was in debt, and he went off to some place called Mallapi northeast of Gnaar Mok to 'seek his fortune,' or so he said. I haven't heard from him since, but the Tong know what happened to him. And they don't need to say it."
Garyn pauses. The gears begin to turn in his head.
"...I don't suppose you'd know where I might find this 'Mallapi'?"
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It's two days' and one night's journey through the swamp to the rough collection of boards and fisherman's shanties that the locals call Gnaar Mok. Lucky for him they seem to understand his discreet line of questioning. No doubt this Mallapi is important enough that even the fishermer can grasp what it's used for.
It's a cave, of course. He'd been told the Bitter Coast was full of them. Garyn would bet everything he owns (admittedly not much at the moment) that this Mallapi is a storehouse for Camonna Tong smuggling operations. It explains how the Tong knew that Lirielle's brother was dead, and how he might have been desperate and stupid enough to try to make his fortune by robbing it.
The locals' directions are vague - most have been steering clear of it, no doubt - but Garyn's tracking skills make it easy to spot. A half-trodden path of grass leading from a small cove to a moss-covered cave entrance. Used fairly regularly, from the look of it. He'd guess probably between six and a dozen men guarding it.
He approaches carefully with his sword drawn...
Naturally, Garyn sets out for the first location Lorbulg had mentioned - the head office of the Ordinators. This, a passing guard had curtly told him, was in the Hall of Justice at the High Fane - the two slim spires at the end of the central canal, beneath the giant floating rock they called the Ministry of Truth.
The mer to talk to is a severe-looking fellow by the name of Elam Andas. Garyn judges him as reasonable, but about as cheerful as Ald'ruhn is wet. Turns out even the lead of St. Olms is more than the Ordinators know. Curious, that.
In any case, their efforts were now divided with the rash of mysterious killings that had been sweeping through the city. Yesterday two guards had stumbled upon the killer in the act and had their throats slit before they could draw their weapons. Any information he could provide about that would be rather more helpful.
This, of course, is more than Garyn knows. Andas nods, and gives Garyn his leave.
"An outlander like you ought to be careful," he says. "The killer seems to have it out for foreigners."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Garyn isn't usually surprised when speaking Ta'agra pays off, but he wasn't expecting it to pay off in St. Olms Canton in Vivec City. A few words with some Khajiit by the canalworks narrowed down his search considerably. The crook was hiding in comfort - an apartment built into the canton itself, rather than the stilted shacks that lined most of the canals.
A quiet knock on the door. Then a louder one. Then, in flawless Senchal Ta'agra, Garyn speaks.
"Dro'Sakhar! We have to move!"
The door cracks open. It's all he needs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Garyn wipes his sword as the Ordinator inspects the corpse. What little conversation the bandit had made before he attacked had confirmed that this was the Khajiit Garyn was looking for, as did his personal effects.
He'd searched a little more thoroughly than the Ordinator had. But he could find nothing tying him to the guild, or to any organization of any kind. As far as he can tell, this is a legitimate bounty on an independent outlaw.
"I'll inform the Order of the Watch," the Ordinator says. "They will send the bounty along to your guild. Collect your reward from your guildmaster."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He'd had to wait a couple days for more work. Lorbumol hadn't been expecting him to return so quickly. He seemed almost as annoyed as he was pleased.
Garyn almost wishes he were still waiting. Now he's at the Rat in the Pot in Ald'ruhn again, this time on a debt collection job. He's always hated shakedowns. The marks either don't want to be found or have some pathetic story or another. Sometimes both. And often times - far more often than he'd like - the sad story turns out to be true.
This one's name is Lirielle Stoine. She's easy enough to find - a skinny Breton with short, red hair, keeping to herself at a corner stool. She doesn't deny it either.
"My brother Ruran is dead," she says quietly, her eyes not leaving Garyn's. "I'm sure of it. The Camonna Tong said that he owed them money, which I don't dispute."
She breathes deeply and her eyes narrow. "But now they say that I owe my brothers debts. I don't have 2000 drakes. I've never had that much money. I can't well pay what I don't have, can I?"
Garyn grimaces. "No, I expect not. But I can't go back to the guild empty-handed either. Your brother -"
"Is dead. A dead fool who has already paid for his foolishness. He knew he was in debt, and he went off to some place called Mallapi northeast of Gnaar Mok to 'seek his fortune,' or so he said. I haven't heard from him since, but the Tong know what happened to him. And they don't need to say it."
Garyn pauses. The gears begin to turn in his head.
"...I don't suppose you'd know where I might find this 'Mallapi'?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's two days' and one night's journey through the swamp to the rough collection of boards and fisherman's shanties that the locals call Gnaar Mok. Lucky for him they seem to understand his discreet line of questioning. No doubt this Mallapi is important enough that even the fishermer can grasp what it's used for.
It's a cave, of course. He'd been told the Bitter Coast was full of them. Garyn would bet everything he owns (admittedly not much at the moment) that this Mallapi is a storehouse for Camonna Tong smuggling operations. It explains how the Tong knew that Lirielle's brother was dead, and how he might have been desperate and stupid enough to try to make his fortune by robbing it.
The locals' directions are vague - most have been steering clear of it, no doubt - but Garyn's tracking skills make it easy to spot. A half-trodden path of grass leading from a small cove to a moss-covered cave entrance. Used fairly regularly, from the look of it. He'd guess probably between six and a dozen men guarding it.
He approaches carefully with his sword drawn...
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"I'm not a priest. And it'd surprise me if you were an especially holy man yourself. But may Arkay guide you safely to the next life."
He flicks the small hackle-lo lighter on his ring and steps back. Ruran Stoine's body goes up like a wick.
Behind him, the sun is setting over the Bitter Coast.
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"That's quite the sunset," she says, after a while. "Even if it isn't a proper sun by my own universe's standards."
She tries not to think about the metaphysics or the physics physics of Garyn's universe too hard, they give her a headache.
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"I can't say the Bitter Coast is the first part of my world I would've chosen to show you," he says.
"But to me, if it shines like a sun, it burns like a sun, and it sets like a sun, it's a sun. How and why doesn't matter. What matters is we're here to watch it."
The changing light and colors are causing shadows to dance across the swamp. It's actually sort of pretty at this time of day.
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"Healing?" she offers. After all, all the enemies are dead now and the work is done, more or less.
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"Yes, now's a good time for it."
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She chuckles softly. "At least I know how to keep myself to myself when healing now. Could have been dangerous if anyone other than you had been my first patient."
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He leans his head in toward hers.
"Would we both be here now, I wonder?"
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Their assorted emotional baggage, for one.
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He smiles weakly. "Maybe it'd be easier if more people could cheat their fears."
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She leans in to kiss him. "But we did cheat, and I'm glad of it."
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"It's amazing how much can hang on one foolish moment," Garyn says.
"This man's soul can rest in peace, for one. Thanks to you."
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"I'm tempted to try and make multiple trips and strip the place bare," she says, glancing back at the storeroom.
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He looks off into the horizon, watching the light dance across the waves.
"It's likely I'll need you again. I now know for certain the Guild has ties to the Camonna Tong. I may have stirred the hive here today."
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She frowns in worry at his mention of having stirred the hive. "Might be a good time to be pro-active, then. Top down assassination is a faster way to dismantle an organization than bottom up, but they both work," she adds, matter of factly. "Unless forensics is considerably more advanced than I suspect, I can even make it look like natural causes, or an accident."
Yes, Ibani IS seriously proposing personally assassinating the entire Camonna Tong.
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"I appreciate the thought, but I may need to gather a bit more information before I start going about killing everyone in the Camonna Tong. Especially considering at least one of them is a noblemer."
He gestures back toward the cave.
"And it's not like anybody back there will be telling any tales. I'll just need to be careful to make sure the Guild isn't able to put two and two together."
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"Would destroying the place help cover our tracks, or do you think we're good with things as they are?"
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He glances at the rapidly disintegrating corpse.
"I suspect I'll have enough of her gratitude to ensure that."
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"Time to get to the ransacking?" Ibani can carry quite a lot if she uses the Force.
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