OOM: Vivec, 24 Last Seed, 3E 427

[moonandstar]

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...

Comments

[last_kallig]

"Oh well," Ibani says quietly, eyeing the height of the ceilings. "We were bound to draw some attention sooner or later."

She doesn't seem terribly concerned about this. "Be interesting to see what those mages can manage in a pinch. I haven't seen much local magic."

[moonandstar]

The main chamber splits into two hallways, one in each direction. The clamor appears to be coming from both of them.

Garyn points toward the hallway on the left.

"Let's jump them. Best not to fight them all at once."

[last_kallig]

"I like that plan," Ibani replies. "Left it is!"

Ibani charges left, armored boots, hitting the ground very fast.

Surprise, thugs, you can have a Sith AND a mercenary, special one time only deal!

[moonandstar]

Garyn follows very closely behind, trusting Ibani's senses to lead the way. Not that the two spearmen and a battlemage will be hard to spot. If they're fortunate, they'll catch the mage before he throws his fireball and not after.

[last_kallig]

Sadly, they do not catch the mage before the fireball. Ibani lacks the fire resistance of a Dunmer, but the armor IS designed to withstand plasma, which helps a little. Even so, some of her flesh burns in the fireball.

She snarls in anger and gives the mage enough force lightning to fry three people.

[moonandstar]

Garyn catches nearly as much of it as Ibani does. If it hadn't been for the armor Ibani had gotten him, he likely would have been a good deal more than singed, Dunmer or no.

He would offer a hand with the two spearmen, but the force lightning powerful enough to kill three people arcs outward from the mage's corpse and, wouldn't you know it, kills all three of them.

[last_kallig]

"Shavit, I was a fool!" Ibani mutters. "Should have put up force shields on the both of us."

"More luck than I deserve that we were not more badly injured."

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "Healing?" she offers.

[moonandstar]

"Save it for now," Garyn says, holding up his hand.

It hurts plenty, of course. Second-degree burns on the side of his neck, among a couple other places. But there's no need to heal anything that isn't life-threatening until they know the threat has been dealt with. Speaking of which...

"There are three of them left. And I don't hear footsteps."

[last_kallig]

Ibani listens to the Force. "Several someones think they're being very sneaky," she muses, eyes shut.

"Ambush waiting, from the feel of it. Not a bad plan, in their situation." She swings one lightsaber in a humming arc through the air to point in the direction of the ambush. (Pity there's cave wall in the way, but what can you do?)

"Won't be enough," she says, opening her eyes.

[moonandstar]

"It's what I'd do," Garyn says. "If I were the sort who didn't mind leaving my comrades for dead."

Garyn nods toward the entry.

"Let's play their game. Approach them cloaked."

[last_kallig]

"Indeed, not going to charge in this time."

Before she cloaks them though, she throws up two purplish, transparent bubbles of force, one around herself and one around Garyn. "These should take the brunt of any more spells, and give anyone who tries to hit you in melee a bit of a shock."

Then the force cloak is up and they and the protective shields both vanish from mundane senses.

[moonandstar]

The ambush is waiting for them in the main chamber.

It's quite well set, Garyn thinks as he carefully walks around the older Dunmer waiting behind the corner with a poleaxe. He's the one who set the trap, no doubt - he has the air of the grizzled leader about him. In one corner of the room, an archer stands with his bow drawn. Meanwhile, another battlemage stands at the entrance to the rightmost path with his hands at the ready.

Garyn heads to take out the archer, trusting Ibani to take out the other ranged attacker first.

[last_kallig]

Ibani is in the center of the chamber when she sends one lightsaber toward the battlemage in a throw, lightsaber sinking into his chest and going straight through until the hilt hits flesh and sticks.

She whirls, bringing the other blade up to block potential attacks while she reaches out toward the other with the Force, yanking it out of the mage's corpse and sending it whirling back across the main chamber to her hand.

[moonandstar]

Garyn, meanwhile, runs the archer through and turns to face the old man.

The leader stands tall and circles the back of the room, brandishing his poleaxe defiantly.

"Who in the four corners of Hell are you!?" he roars in a voice that sounds like drain full of hot ash.

"Do you have any idea who you're fucking with?"

[last_kallig]

"A great many dead Mer, from the look of it," Ibani replies, tone dry and voice distorted by her helm. The lightsaber hums in a tone that is surely alien to the leader, as she shakes viscera off of the hilt.

"I am Sith, though I am sure my Order's name means nothing to you, or to whomever you might call Master."

Ibani moves also, across from him on the invisible circle he is walking, although she moves no closer to him. "I can hardly taste your fear at all, old one. I'd wager it was not coin alone they bought you with."

"It's a pity that you've reached the end of your road."

[moonandstar]

The old mer snarls. "I don't need pity from you, n'wah. I'll see the rest of your Sith Order in Oblivion!"

He lunges forward and strikes.

[last_kallig]

The poleaxe is orcish metal, good quality, but it was never meant to contend with the stuff of stars. Ibani's block shears the head off of the polearm and sends it spinning off into the cave wall. The other lightsaber going toward his head will likely finish matters most finally.

[moonandstar]

Thankfully his head doesn't land next to Garyn. His lips turn upward in a not-quite-smile of admiration.

Then his eyes turn elsewhere. There's a protruding rock near the front of the chamber, with a discarded knife lying next to it. Beside it a trail of blood leads toward the cave entrance.

Without a word, Garyn bolts toward the door.

[last_kallig]

Ibani curses and runs after Garyn. She doesn't need the blood trail to follow her prey, but it is extra confirmation.

"Knew I should have experimented with the karkhole's brain chemistry to keep him out," she mutters to herself.

[moonandstar]

Lucky for them, he hasn't gotten far.

Garyn catches up with him at the bottom of a hill just outside the cavern. He's fallen on the uneven swampy ground. He's lying near the edge of a pond, moaning and grasping at his leg. He seems to have hurt it badly. Not that a healthy leg could have helped him escape, but this does simplify things considerably.

Garyn grits his teeth and plants his foot on the tough's injured leg. The armored mer yelps.

"Let's keep this brief. Ruran Stoine. Where is he?"

The criminal looks up in pained bewilderment. "Who?"

This prompts Garyn to grind his boot against his wound. The Tong muscle shrieks in pain.

"Did a Breton thief enter this cave within the last two weeks?"

"That fool? He's dead! We killed him!"

"And where is he now?"

Here the thug seems to find his courage. He knows he doesn't have long. He spits at Garyn. "He's in the latrine pit with the rest of the filth. Now kill me, you bastard! You'll be joining me soon enough."

"Thank you," Garyn says, and obliges him.

[last_kallig]

"It seems the language of contempt with regard to the disposition of corpses is much the same here as it is at home," Ibani remarks after Garyn obliges the Mer.

"This place is theirs, they ought not to have disposed of him like an animal." Or a slave, though the Sith Empire's laws don't make many distinctions between the two.

[moonandstar]

Garyn nods. "From what I've seen of them I wouldn't expect better."

He climbs up the slope back toward the cave entrance.

"Let's find him and cremate him. I can't bring him back to his sister in the condition he's likely to be in."

[last_kallig]

Ibani grimaces. "No, definitely not. I'm sure there's something in there that will assist with burning, even if it takes a bit of encouragement."

Or a LOT of encouragement. Lightning isn't exactly like fire bur it can work in a pinch.

[moonandstar]

"Fire salts, if we're lucky," Garyn says. "Though firewood would do."

Garyn opens the door and re-enters the storehouse.

"I'll look for some. I'm not eager to leave you to find the corpse by yourself, but you're the one who can lift it without having to wade into a pile of shit."

[last_kallig]

"I'll look for it. May take a while, a corpse leaves no presence in the Force."

Time to search for the smell of shit, most likely. Not the best part of this trip.