Post #2425452 in The City of Chains, a roleplay on RPG

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't nail you to the wall right now," Ashton threatened, and quite unlike him he meant it. The man he was speaking to was the same man he had contacted to acquire some books for Rilien. Instead of bringing Ashton any illicit goods, he had brought a message and found himself pinned to a wall with a machete at his throat for his efforts. "Because I'm the messenger! Nothing more. Look, Ash--" He was cut off by the blade of the machete pressing deeper into his throat. "You don't get to call me that," He spat. Garrath's mouth worked in an effort to backpedal, but nothing came. Instead, he just continued, "If I had a choice, I wouldn't drag you back into this. Look, I'd leave you the hell alone if it was me, but this comes from the top."

That managed to relieve the pressure on his throat, but Ashton still gripped his collar tightly, "What do the Redwater Teeth want with me? Don't they have enough flunkies like you to do their dirty work?" Ashton asked venomously. If Garrath was insulted by his words, he didn't show. For the man's credit, it did seem like he really didn't want to do this to Ashton. "No one else was a good as we were. The guys they got running the operations now would drown if they fell in the water. There's this ship coming in and Leech really wants it bad. He doesn't want to leave anything to chance." Garrath said as Ashton released his grip on his collar. "So he calls on the best?" Ashton replied with hostile sarcasm.

He made his way back to the counter and leaned heavily upon it. He was glad that Lia and Snuffy both were gone for this. Ashton had sent them both out when Garrath arrived, as whenever the man came unbidden, good news was rarely the reason. And he was right. How right he had been. "Would they really burn down Nostariel's clinic?" He asked with a sickened look on his face. "You know Leech," Garrath replied darkly. Had it been a threat against his own shop, he would have refused outright. He could survive without his shop. But Nostariel? Leech really knew how to go for the weakpoints of a man.

"Look, if I had a choice--" Garrath was interrupted again. "You wouldn't have asked me. Yeah, you said that already," Ashton said, turning around to level a hard stare into the man. "Did you even fight for me?" Garrath's silence was all the answer he needed. Ashton chuckled mirthlessly and turned away again, looking back down at the counter. "Honor among thieves isn't what it used to be."

There was an uneasy silence hanging in the air for more than a minute, Ashton staring holes into the counter and Garrath wordlessly watching. Finally, with an uncharacteristic sigh, Ashton answered, "Do I even have a choice?" He asked. "Seems not," came the reply. Another elongated silence puncuated by a sigh, and Ashton put his back into the counter. "Fine. But I have demands," He said, his face hard like rock. He held up the first finger and spoke, "First, your ass is coming with me on this." Garrath nodded, he expected that. Ashton then held up finger number two, "Second, I get to pick out my own crew for this job, people I can trust completely and utterly, and people I know won't stab me in the back." That as well was nodded to. Then came the last finger, "Third, after this, if I ever see you or Leech again, or you make any more threats against Nostariel or my friends-- I'm killing every single one of you bastards. Now get the hell out of my shop."

A couple of weeks later her found himself in the Hanged Man with his assembled team of Nostariel, Lucien, Sparrow, and Rilien. None of them knew exactly what he had planned for them, but that was not because he didn't trust them. In fact, that was why they found themselves assembled in front of him, because he trusted them absolutely. Garrath had went ahead and reserved one of the back rooms for them, one with a large table, and the man himself was leaning in the corner, silently inspecting the men and women Ashton had enlisted. The man himself sat on top of the table cross-legged, face pressed up against his fists. Suffice it to say, he did not look happy about what he was about to say. In fact, he had spent the previous weeks working out how to say what he wanted to say.

For a while, he didn't say anything. It wasn't until Garrath cleared his throat that he finally did. The words did not come easily, nor did they come quickly. It felt like they were being ripped from his throat by some unknown entity. "I bet you all have... Questions. I'll see if I can't answer as many as I can now," He said in an odd formal manner that didn't mesh well with who he was at heart. "The thing is... I need your help. There's these people," Ashton spared a glance backward to Garrath at this, but the man said nothing in return, "Who want me to do something. But, I can't do it by myself. That's why you all are here."

He was dancing around the issue, but he would need to dive into it sooner or later. He decided to just go for broke and do it sooner. It wouldn't do to keep them in the dark. He couldn't do that to them. "See, the something they want from me is that they want me to steal a boat for them. It's filled to the brim with relics and artifacts that would fetch a high price in any market, and they want to make sure it gets delivered to them. Fortunately, they chose me to do it," He said, his tone indictitive that he did not feel very fortunate.

Ashton sighed but continued to push forward. "What I'm asking you to do is very, very dangerous. If you don't want any part of it, then you can stand up and leave right now. I wouldn't blame you a bit for it. Hell, if I was able to, I would, but I'm just not able," Ashton said. "The boat isn't Kirkwallian, so don't worry about that. The cargo it's transporting is on its way to the Tevinter Imperium, so don't feel guilty about stealing it. And you're getting paid for this," Garrath clarified. It didn't make much of a difference for Ashton, he was still being dragged back into something he had left a long time ago.

"Anyone want out?" Ashton asked.

Lucien was frowning, clearly less-than-pleased with what he was hearing. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and canted his head to one side, patrician features arranged into something oddly like a look his father would have worn. A bit of disapproval, a bit of exasperation, but underneath it, a certain kind of steely resolve to get at the heart of things. “Tevinter is not synonymous with the Black City,” he pointed out steadily. “Not everything within it was evil. I would feel much better about this if I knew who was sailing this ship, what it was carrying, and why.” From the way Ashton kept shooting glances at his heretofore-unknown acquaintance, he wasn’t exactly doing this of his own free will, which meant that Lucien’s trust in his character could only reassure him so far. Good men could be made to do awful things, given the right circumstances.

"Pirates, raiders, opportunistic vultures who stole everything they own. These people raided towns all along the Waking Sea. Killing these people would be a service to everyone who lives on the coast. Don't fret about getting your hands dirty," Garrath replied, approaching closer to the table. Ashton nodded along, hoping to appease Lucien. Of course it would take conviencing for the honorable Chevalier, Ashton had expected no less. "Garrath might be a bastard, but he's never lied to me. If we get on the ship and they surrender, we won't kill them. I'll promise you that," Ashton replied. Garrath nodded his appreciation and continued, "As Riviera said, the ship's loaded with plunder stolen from the coastal cities. My employer would like to see that wealth in his pocket instead of some blackmarket magister's," He answered.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to pay a visit to your… employers, instead?” Lucien asked. The people assembled here were more than capable of dealing with the average gang of ne’er-do-wells, though he wasn’t entirely sure that was what was going on. Either way, he needed more information before he decided how he personally was going to handle this. He was honest enough about who he was that he did not think Ashton would have invited him here if what they were being asked to do was truly vile, but… the lines that Lucien drew and the ones other people thought he drew were often different.

Lucien's statement made Ashton geniunely laugh, and he nodded his agreement, "You weren't the only one with that idea Luce. It was the first thing I thought about doing. Turns out these people are hard as hell to find. Probably why they're all still alive... You know what they say about roaches," Ashton added ponderously. "I couldn't even beat it out of Garrath," He revealed, leaving Garrath nodding. "He couldn't. Even I can't find them most of the time. I get all of my orders and targets from dead drops across the city." With that being said, Ashton's face drew serious once more, "Lucien, you don't have to do this, you owe me no favors." The last thing he wanted to do was to force someone else into his mess.

Lucien appeared to consider it, one of his hands moving upwards to rub absently at the beard that presently coated his jaw. It was short enough that really it was just particularly-thick stubble, but the gesture didn’t depend on that. Glancing for a short moment at Rilien, he threw another idea out there, one that he’d never have thought to use before meeting the Bard. “Well… why not both? We board the ship and take the plundered goods, and that makes sense—I’d prefer fewer raiders in the area, anyway. But if this employer of yours really wants it in his pocket, I see no reason we can’t follow it there. Well… perhaps I can’t, as such,” he gestured at himself, intending to convey the fact that he was not particularly oriented towards sneaking about. “But surely yourselves and Ril here are more than capable, should he agree to it. Follow the money, I believe the expression goes.”

“I have done tasks of this nature before,” Rilien put in, his usual deadened monotone only reinforcing the point. He well knew how to find people who didn’t want to be found, but bait—like the cargo from this ship—would make that task considerably easier. “I do not think Lucien’s idea preposterous.” Actually, he’d just been thinking it himself when the chevalier spoke it aloud. That was a bit odd, really, as usually their methods of approaching such issues were very different. Still… perhaps if anyone else knew his mind, it was his friend. Or perhaps the need to help another friend was simply enough that both of them automatically sought the best solution. Rilien had efficiency in mind—doubtless, Lucien wanted to stop the largest amount of illegal activity possible. In this case, the goals dovetailed.

Nostariel was silent for a moment, contemplating the possibilities. She did like Lucien’s idea, more because it felt like something good to do, instead of just… ending one group of criminals to enrich another group of criminals. It was perhaps she alone of all those assembled who understood just how hard it must be for Ash right now, to be forced back into this world that he hated and had left as soon as he could. And surely, he must have been forced—there was no way that man who had confessed his misgivings and his crimes to her a year ago would ever volunteer again to cast his lot with such folk. It was that knowledge, the knowledge that there must be a reason for this, that allowed her to say what she did, in the end. “Whatever you decide,” she said, a layer of steel in her tone that hadn’t been there for a long time, “I’m with you.”

Sparrow needed absolutely no convincing when Ashton tasked her to join him at the Hanged Man, along with some other friendly faces that made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside—albeit, she still felt a little sheepish when she glanced in the Chevalier's direction. She hadn't apologized for her awkward behaviour, and simply hoped her willing presence meant that she would not skirt around him like he bore the plague. If Ashton needed anything from her, then she would willingly oblige. He'd been there in her darkest moments, in the vilest circumstances. The remnants of such times hung onto her like an emaciated veil, showing on her bones in the means of billowing clothes and ill-fitting armour. Her mace swung at her hip like a long lost friend, denouncing any such weakness. Certainly, there was something to be said of her willingness to carry out such a task. She'd been a petty thief at one point in her life; running from the Qunari only to end up pinching and pilfering to keep her stomach from bending in on itself, but she hadn't thought of it as entirely wrong. She'd never wondered whether or not those pockets belonged to nobleman, or poor folk like herself.

Her eyebrows peaked when Lucien spoke, though she remained mild-mannered enough not to interrupt him. Friends bent the rules for friends, didn't they? She'd always thought that morals only remained steadfast as long as your friends were out of danger, and by the look on Ashton's face, there was something much, much darker going on. He was in trouble. He needed them. If he'd thought that he could do this on his own, he wouldn't have bothered asking them here. Perception came difficult to her, and she certainly couldn't read the situation as easily as Nostariel, but even Sparrow knew that this was not what Ashton wanted to do. Humour had no seat at their table. He was being forced, however subtly. To be honest, she'd never seen him this upset. It told her volumes—there was much she didn't know about her friend, and it sat ill with her. Either way, Sparrow would always be here to do whatever needed being done. She, too, nodded her head and made no move to vacate the table.

She cast a sideways look at the Chevalier, then quickly averted her gaze. “Of course. We're your friends. Whatever needs doing. But, I wouldn't say Luce's idea is bad, either.” Doing something for the sake of doing something good? She was growing, indeed.

Garrath chuckled behind Ashton, though it was of the dry and mirthless type, "I wouldn't worry about following anything. Leech is to meet us once we've acquired the ship, along with a number of enforcers. How many you say he could fit in that boat of his Riviera?" Garrath asked. Ashton asnwered like teeth were being pulled from his jaw, "About two dozen. Conservatively. If we attack him, then it'll be a hell of a fight in cramped quarters. He wants us to do his dirty work for him, so that he can reap the reward without all the nasty business," But Ashton liked the idea of hunting the man down.

As an afterword, he added, "But it shouldn't stop us from finding out where the bastard puts his head down at night... Surely he isn't so protected everywhere?" He posited with a tight-lipped grin. He left the implication in the air without further words, but Garrath had something to add, "What you do afterward is your business. I'm just here to make sure he gets the boat. It's your funeral." Ashton leveled one last glare at Garrath before he leaned over, an action which also drew the man behind him closer. Now was time to plan.

Lucien could accept this. For any action, it only made sense to take the path one thought was right, and stopping these raiders seemed right to him. The chance of being able to undo another criminal enterprise afterwards, well… he would be taking it, unless there should be some better reason not to. He’d not put his friends in danger if they were unwilling to be, of course, but if they were willing… a difficult fight wasn’t exactly a deterrent for the chevalier, nor, perhaps, for the rest of them, either. With a nod, he chose to allow Ashton to lay out the plan sans any further interruptions from him.

"Well, to start we're going to need two rowboats..." Ashton didn't know what was worse, that he was being sucked back down into the underworld, or that still felt so comfortable drawing up these plans.

Snippet #2425452

located in Kirkwall, a part of The City of Chains, one of the many universes on RPG.

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