Masa's Story

Masa inwardly kicked himself as he lowered his crossbow, exhaling slightly. This was a messy business. Considering the circumstances, he'd much rather have put a bolt through the girl's neck, but it seemed their esteemed leader thought otherwise. And besides, two lives weren't exactly the price he would put on fifteen pounds of salt.

Of course, he couldn't exactly complain about the circumstances. She was right, after all. They had no idea who would show up today. It wasn't an ideal sitaution to be in, but any trade they could cut off was worth it. He eyed the woman, narrowing his eyes slightly before emerging from the bushes and addressing her in a friendly tone.

"While you're being quite a polite guest of ours, it would be in both our best interests if you were to first hand over any weapons you may have, miss."

He smiled, not pointing shis crossbow at her, but neither fully lowering it. A long, oiled leather coat sat upon his tall frame, his face framed by hair twisted into locks, glistening with droplets of water. "And if I may be so bold..." he bowed his head to Dervish. "Do you expect us to let you live because you're a well known trader, or do you actually think you would be more use to us than your corpse would?"

Despite his leader's confidence in their forest home, Masa had always felt uneasy in it. That feeling was, of course, what he believed to have kept his soul inside his body for the past few years. A burly owl was not something that could be taken down with a single crossbow bolt. It was not that he disliked the creatures, though. They were one of the natural walls that guarded the bandits, the impassable guardians of the forest. If any guards had been sent to try to find their dwellings, he doubted that any returned to the castle.

As they neared the encampment, he let his guard down slightly and eyed up the woman in red. A trenchant, she had called herself? And also a salty maiden. He was unsure whether they had found a traveling merchant or the king's next hired fool. Either way, she had a cool head on her shoulders, he could respect that. And indeed, if what she said was true, then this would certainly be their chance for something bigger. His chance. He had always dreamed of being more than a pickpocket, a thief, a whore. Even having friends in high places didn't change the way people looked at him. He shook the water out of his hair as they finally exited the thick barrier of cedars into the campsite. What few men and women there were greeted them silently, wary of the outsider suddenly in their midst. Masa kept his eyes on the woman. If any time to make a break for it, this would be the worst one, but it never hurt to keep a bolt at the ready.

Masa nodded in his assent. "Dead guards cause problems. I agree with the bandit plan."

Grinning, he added "And besides, if bandits are angry at us, they can always be our first way to show how we keep our roads, ah... Safe, shall we say." Taking on a more serious tone, he leaned in towards them, his eyes wary. [b]"Now, if we do this plan of pretending to be guards, how long before the actual guards find out, hm? I can pull a few strings, but we have to be discreet about this if we want to keep anyone from finding us out."

He reached under the table and pulled out a large, detailed map of the surrounding areas, laying it on the wooden table. The map was marked with all manner of markings, warnings, red lines. "This is a map of the current guard activity. I got it from a captain who would rather people not find out that his wife had had a bit too many lonely evenings in his absence. But in any case, we are here." He pointed to a conspicuously empty part of the map, marked only with the symbol of a large owl with a leg hanging out of its mouth. "Guards to not come here, and we have worked very hard to make sure that they continue to stay away. If we are to do this, we need to have a guarantee that no one finds out or that no one is brave enough to investigate."

At this, he sighed. Despite his saying so to the others, this would probably be a job falling to him. And depending on how long it lasted, he would have to be engaged in increasingly difficult matters. Framing guards for the actions of the bandits, threatening merchants, using a few of his favors, blackmailing... There had to be an easier way to keep them from being discovered.

He glanced down at the table once more. "Also, it would be wonderful if we could steal some furniture from the bandits when we go.

Masa frowned, realizing he hadn't thought about an alternative to keeping their eyes off the girl. In truth, it could be that she had a deal with the smuggler and she could easily be planning to alert him once they took their eyes off her at the smuggling camp. After all she did know an inordinate amount about the fellow... A fact which she herself had pointed out earlier.

Masa sighed. He didn't know whether she was smart or stupid, honestly, but if they wanted anything to get done, it seemed her help would be quite valuable. He had heard tell of this smuggler, and had most likely worked with him on a number of occasions, but hadn't met the man face to face, and honestly didn't much care to.

Dervish had made a good decision to make the woman wait there, but it would be better if she could accompany them- and better still if they could trust her.

The man stroked his chin and stared at the woman intently, making his own assessment of her. Attractive, with the delicate features of an elf, though maybe a half-elf. Not well known being merchants, half-elves. Working in shops or taverns in larger cities, sometimes as exotic prostitutes, but not traveling merchants. Then, Arya didn't seem like the most normal of merchants either.

He quietly placed his hand on the table and turned his gaze to his leader. "If I may, sir, I don't relish putting our lives at risk on her word. Instead..." he grinned, "Let's have a test of sorts. A way to know if she truly does mean to help us. I'm sure she would be useful in some operation that would put us at less risk should she be lying to us."

Masa watched Dervish stride out of the tent, probably to get a guard. Weaver, maybe. He then turned his attention back to Arya, who had begun to scratch out some things on the parchment she had been given.

"You're taking this all very well, aren't you...?" he said, his eyes slightly narrowing. And she was, surprisingly enough, taking it better than almost any merchant they had seen. Usually when they were as calm and obedient as she had been, they had something up their sleeves. Or, as the case may be, money hidden in their boots. Not that she could hide much money in the clothes she was wearing- it all seemed very practical, but he'd have someone check that another time. It wouldn't reflect well on him if Dervish came back and he was having their captive strip down, after all.

Not yet sitting down, he leaned his hands on the table, his dark eyes glittering curiously. "I daresay that I've not seen many merchants like you. And from your weapons..." he gestured to the large, rather beautiful pair of knives he had stowed in his belt, "You're either one of the lower daughters of a very rich man that wanted you out of his house, a very skilled thief, or a succesful merchant with an eye for quality."

Stepping back, he pulled one out, letting it reflect the light from the lanterns in the tent. "But do you know how to use them, I wonder."

Masa raised an eyebrow, taking note of the things she said and storing them in the back of his mind.

Then, taking a short bow, he introduced himself. "Masa, at your service. My proffession has become clear to you, I'm sure."

Continuing down his line of inquiry, he took a look at the dagger in his hand. "Your sisters, is it...? I'm afraid I don't follow." Magic, maybe? He knew nothing about it, but he had heard tales of witches in far away lands who turned people into mice, made rich women poor, and transformed carriages to pumpkins. Or maybe it was the other way around. In any case, he never put much stock into such tales, but the merchant referred to her weapons so fondly that he might consider such a thing.

He should really let the woman work, but by now he was very curious about this strange girl they'd happened upon.

"I'm almost impressed that you still have the gall to be cheeky in your situation," Masa let out a sigh and took the papers from the woman, leafing through them. Rough plans, estimates of guards, patterns, additional information... It was certainly far from perfect, but more than they'd had to work previously. "I imagine that tongue has gotten you into worse trouble than this before. Try not to bring ill on our heads with it and I can promise it'll stay inside yours."

He looked over the papers a bit more carefully, thinking over what she had said. "Insurance". Were it only a luxury they could afford at this point in time. Well, if all went according to what plans they could piece together from this, then that time may not be too far off.

"Sir!" he called outside of the tent. "She's finished the papers!"

And now came the hard part- putting together a plan, and one that may not work at that, from this information.

Masa quietly cranked his crossbow as the moved through the shadows. His usual leather outfit had been traded out for a softer, mud stained and mottled grey cloak. They hopefully weren't going to be fighting, but in spite of all that they still needed weapons. He had taken care to pad the sheaths and metal bits of Dervish's weapons to make sure no clanking gave them away.

Glancing up at the moon, he saw the clouds were moving faster than he'd like. Rain was all well and good, but if he needed to take a shot with the crossbow, he'd much prefer if there were no wind.

The rain began to hit the ground softly as the drew nearer, and the faded under the cover of trees, making sure to avoid the crunching of leaves or the crackling of branches. Just in time that they did, as well, as a flash lit the sky up above them, illuminating the whole area. Masa quickly handed off the crossbow off to the girl he'd chosen, Lorelli. A former thief by trade, she could handle a crossbow and didn't hesitate, either. He would prefer that they not be seen, but if they were, a well placed shot could mean the difference between life and death.

He motioned for her to hang back, watching their backs as he and Dervish stalked forward. The rain had begun to come down in torrents, meaning the ground would be muddy... They had to make sure not to leave tracks behind them as they left. Of course, it also meant that the guards had huddled up beneath shelter to continue to keep "watch". Maybe there wouldn't be any blood tonight.

He stilled that thought right away. So far this had been easy, but things could go wrong far too fast for him to let his guard down. They got to the side of one of the warehouses and he went to Dervish's side.

"Which one do we check first? The merchant said the middle one was where he kept it, but if it's a trap...?"

Masa was equal parts impressed and relieved at Dervish's ability to swim through the water with that kind of armor on. Still, even if he'd had such strength, Masa wasnt particularly jealous of lugging around that much on his body.

As they reached the edge and Dervish signaled to him, Masa pulled himself slightly up over the ledge. There were three guards standing there, one off to the left and barely illuminated in the light of the dim, sputtering lanter. Luckily, they seemed to be little more than thugs. Short sleeved tunics, even in the cold deluge that they were subjected to this evening, and little in the way of armor. Probably armed with clubs or light arms, but Masa couldn't make that out in the darkness.

Slipping back down with Dervish, he held up three fingers and silently gestured their locations to him. After a short, similarly silent, exchange, it had been decided that Masa would take the one on the left and Dervish the two on the right. Masa hauled himself up first, quickly dashing to the cover of the bushes on that side.

That was, however, to be his mistake. In the darkness and the rain, just as he reached the bush, his foot gave out on him ib the slippery mud. He fell hard, his chin cracking against a root. He heard the bush shake and jostle, even more when he scrambled to his feet and pressed his back against a tree. Were those footsteps? Had they come to investigate? His blood ran cold as he peered out of his cover. One of the thugs had, albeit grudgingly, left the comfort of the awning and was striding towards him. Masa thanked whatever goddess had been looking out for him that only one had come to look. Or maybe Dervish had already dealt with the other two as they had started to head over.

Masa quickly pulled out a knife and prepared himself. The rain would wash away any bloodstains he'd made, or else mix with the ruddy mud of the area. He'd not fail another time or it was all over. The second he heard the bushes shake as the man pawed them to find whatever had created the noise, careless in his haste to get back to the relative drynness of the warehouse, Masa's hand snaked towards his ankle, pulling him down. Masa followed his hand, immediately on top of the man, his knife embedding itself into his ribs and then his neck for good measure.

Panting, Masa immediately ignored the lifeless corpse beneath him as he searched the darkness for Dervish's own handiwork.

As soon as Masa began to move upwards, Dervish was quickly swimming away along the edge of the dock, looking to circle around their three opponents. The bandit leader reached upwards and gripped the slick wooden ledge tightly, forcing his body slowly from the grip of the angry sea. His gaze just passed the ledge as he heard a rustling in the bushes near where Masa had climbed, and the three thugs all turned to look at the commotion. Dervish didn't hesitate, his arms burning as he pushed his soaked body the rest of the way up and took cover against the wall of the warehouse, out of sight of the three men they were going to kill. Leaning out slightly, Dervish watched as a single thug plodded into the downpour grumpily and began to make his way to the bushes, readying a sap in his right hand. As he drew close, the masked bandit was quickly moving, looking to time his attack with Masa's.

Within a few seconds, the thug had reached the bushes just as Dervish reached the other two men. The bandit noted off-handedly Masa's thug get pulled bodily into the foliage. Before the other two could react, one of Dervish's blades found it's mark between one man's ribs from behind, killing him before he hit the ground. The second man heard the sound of dying beside him and some instinct made the last thug swing blindly as he turned, catching Dervish by surprise and causing the intended slash across the thug's throat to become a wounding cut to the arm. Thankfully, the man seemed too shocked to scream, turning with a gaping expression. Dervish's arm flexed as he tried to cut the man's windpipe before he could make a real noise, but a second later the final thug fell, a crossbow bolt squarely pinning him in the heart. Dervish hadn't even heard the 'twang' over the downpour, but his eye looked across to where he saw Lorelli crouched, the woman already reloading the heavy crossbow despite lacking any obvious threats. Dervish nodded appreciatively. Now they could enter the building, and hope that this was the path that would take them to their prize without causing any more of a ruckus.