Blood in the Streets (Under Harrow's Rule - Open)

[Carneth]

Carneth trudged along the trail, keeping an eye out for the sign they had all memorized before leaving the town. It was dusk, and they were walking in pairs, Nichtmar and Baethor leading a score of paces in front of himself and Brom. The ogre and the bugbear were looking high, the dwarves low, and between the two groups they were sure to find what they were looking for.

Not one of the warriors was at ease. From what Carneth could see, Nichtmar's hand rested on his sword. From a distance seemingly relaxed, but the knight was surely ready to draw at the first sign of trouble. Baethor's hand kept straying toward his axe as well. He could tell Brom was on edge as well: the bugbear looked like he would be much happier if were already holding his weapon. Carneth didn't blame him either, for the party had left their heavier armor back in town in order to keep a lower profile. He felt exposed in only his leather and chainmail, but one did not walk into a thieves guild meeting heavily armed and armored.

Brom nudged him, which practically knocked the dwarf over. "Look," the bugbear said, before he remembered to keep his voice down. He caught himself, and then whispered hoarsely, "Look!"

"Mebbe there were other reasons Baethor told ye te han' back with me," Carneth muttered. Righting himself, his eyes followed Brom's gesture. Nichtmar and Baethor had stopped, and as he looked at them they signaled and headed off of the path, into the trees. "Let's go," Carneth said to Brom, and the hurried after the pair.

[oof]

The campsite is well hidden. A roaring fire burns in the central pit, with a cow carcass roasting on the spit above it. Oof lounges by the fire as he waits for his acquaintances to drop by.

"I hope the get here soon" he grumbles starting to get bored.

He walks over to the roast and tears off a leg. Beginning to eat he looks up to see the group entering the camp.

"Oi! Ogre, eat den talk!"

he bites down on the leg, the group hears the crunch of bone as he chews.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar gives Oof an approving grin and grabs a leg for himself. He sits his javelin down and sits on a log. After he finishes his first bite he says, "Bit out in the open for ya, Oof. Get tired of the sewers?"

[oof]

Oof grins "Ahh the sewers, so useful yet a bit damp sometimes, besides if ye can think of a better thing than sittin' around a fire with a roast I challenge you to tell it to me"

He looks over at the dwarves and bugbear, "you going to join us fella's? Or do Nichtmar and I have to finish this whole cow ourselves?"

[Sir Nichtmar]

After a bit of chow Nichtmar's mood hardens.

"What do you know about the murders?"

[oof]

"Direct as always aren't you Nichtmar?" Oof chuckles

"Isn't it ironic that you have to come to me to find out what is going on in your own city? Now i could question what murders you are talking about since you didn't exactly specify that. Or perhaps i could tell you of a random murder that happened months ago, but somehow I think you mean the recent murders going on in Mittelmarch?"

Oof shrugs and continues

"Rumors mostly, A dark figure in an alley slitting throats, an old Jovian officer pissed at the populace. A new threat from a defeated enemy trying to take over the land again."

Oof pauses and thinks

"now if you think about it though whoever is doing this must want one thing, chaos. So my suggestion would be to look to whoever can benefit most from the city guard being in disarray, and look to them for answers"

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Why do you think we're here..." His voice stern as he leans forward on his knees sitting on the log.

"You have earned much power and respect in the "underworld". Your umbrella of thievery and information gathering has made you a rich giant. You have much to gain while guards are on the look out for an assassin."

[oof]

"And what is there to be gained from the guards on alert?" He pauses before continuing

"You say the underworld like it is a bad thing Nichtmar" He looks pointedly at Baethor "at least in those circles i have some measure of respect, more than i can say for those you call legitimate. If a family of orcs happens to end up dead in the middle of the night what of it. You come to me and insult me with veiled accusations when the truth is yes I have done what i needed to, to survive and prosper. Does that make me rich? well i suppose. Does it mean i will ever care what I and others like me have to do to survive even if it means the death of a few innocents? no most certainly not."

[Sir Nichtmar]

"We can debate our views another time. How you "survive" is your own business, until it spills blood on our streets, then it becomes a problem. We let you play your game as long as you keep your sort in check. You deal in information gathering. Find me answers. I'll trade for the information as usual. If I find out you're behind this, we'll be hunting you."

[Baethor]

The dwarf looks up at the ogre and jabs his elbow into the knights thigh.
"Threats de not yield information sir knight...Especially not when we are the strangers here in the dark."
The dwarf's eyes keep to the trees as he addresses oof.
"Ye'd have to admit, Oof, of all those left yer the most likely suspect. Ye have the power to make this happen, all it would take was one with quiet feet and a swift knife, something yer men are known for. I'll leave my suspicions at that fer now."

Shuffling under his cloak he produces a small leather pouch, he weighs it in his hand and tosses it over the fire, the giants hand catches it easily. He opens the pouch and produces one of two emeralds, rough and uncut, yet even before polishing it gleams in the firelight.

"We've heard of jovian survivors in the east, though its only rumor. An' i know R'Tiir was never found after the jovian war... If you and your's happens to catch the scent of either, we'd like ta know. If the information happens to find our killer or killers, It would be worth much, much more then those trinkets..."

[oof]

Oof grins, "much obliged Beathor. we'll keep watch as we are able but i can't promise you much. " He looks to Nichtmar,"And while my men and I might use methods you consider unscrupulous Nichtmar I remember a time during the war when you were willing to do things you considered dishonorable because you were desperate, so I will ask you to think; are we really that different you and I?"

Oof stands and begins to walk toward the trees, looking over his shoulder at the knight he states "Oh and as for hunting me, many have tried over the years, what makes you think you will succeed?"

[Sir Nichtmar]

Oof's words scrape at his anger, but he keeps his cool and watches the giant dissapear into the forest. The sound of russeling all around them follows after him.

Nichtmar turns to Baethor.

"I'd like to kill that giant."

"So we are no more closer to figuring this out. Get a short rest, we'll meet on patrol tonight."

Nichtmar heads back in town and gets about an hour of sleep and starts patrolling the streets.

[Baethor]

"I'd like to kill that giant."

Baethor nods his head somberly as the four of them head back down the road to town

"Ai, but desperate times call fer desperate measures..."

Baethor heads home and spends his time next to his fireplace with his pipe and his thoughts. There has to be something they missed, there are very few cut-throats who can leave behind no trace of themselves. Better to stay on the safe side of caution though, he thinks to himself. he hefts open a trunk at the foot of his bed he rifles through some old armor and produces a boiled leather gorget, strapping it on then combing his beard with his fingers to conceal it from the front, pulling back on his cloak he makes his way back into the street, keeping his eye open for his ogre friend on patrol.

"FILTHY TRAITOR!" a sharp PANG echoes in Baethors ears as he is knocked off balance, his eyes blur momentarily and looks down seeing a half-brick laying nearby, reaching up to his helmet he feels the dent, looking up for who attacked him. He suddenly eyeballs a human charging him with a club made from what looks like an old fencepost, the dwarf wheels out of the way and gets to his feet. Suddenly gaurdsmen tackle the man to the stone and wrestle the weapon away from him. as they lift him up, he's obviously been well into his cups, he keeps shouting and mumbling, though more incoherently now. "Y'all right master dwarf?" The gaurdsmen asked. "Shall i fetch a healer?"

Baethor reaches up and slides a finger under his helmet, upon pulling it out he finds no blood then feels over the dent in his helmet again. "Nay lad, This old dwarfs got a head harder'n that brick." The dwarf chortles, thanks the gaurdsmen and walks off down the street.

"Great...nothin' like a drunk to find out how the people feel..."

[A hooded figure]

As night falls a group of people meet in a darkened alley. "Did you get it?" one of them asks.
A different on pats the package he carried through the storm drains. "good" says the first "now remember we have to make this look real" With that the second man grabs the package and unwinds the wrapping on a dead elf. The group leader then slits the corpses throat, letting the blood spill everywhere, and drops the corpse to the ground. "Out of curiosity where did he come from anyway?"
The first man grins "found 'im trying to set up a rival guild, figured he would serve us better this way, little poison in his glass and he was out like a baby"

The leader looks around at the scene, arranged to look exactly like the previous murders, "Ok lets go" he pulls a wadded up piece of cloth, with a symbol seen earlier that day, from his pocket, and throws it into a dark corner of the alley. The entire group disappears into the storm drains.

[Sir Nichtmar]

"Another..." Nichtmar says to Baethor and Carneth as they investigate the scene. Suddenly Brom speaks up from checking the surrounding area.

"Hey isn't this that giant guy's symbol?" Pulling out some torn fabric with the symbol on it.

"Let me see that."

He looks to Baethor, "We have to bring Oof in."

[Baethor]

The dwarf inspects the scene, with a hint of uncertainty, something didn't sit right but he couldn't place what. He nods looking at the patch in the ogres hand.

"S'pose so....Did you have a plan or are we te jump inta the sewers ourselves after the giant?"


Baethor looks over the body laying before him, and could still feel like it was all to convenient, but he keeps it to himself.

[Carneth]

Carneth broke off from the other three, leaving Nichtmar and Baethor to strategize. Those two had more experience with the giant, and Carneth noticed another matter that needed addressing: the crowd that was slowly gathering more and more concerned-looking Mittelmarch citizens. He got Brom's attention and the pair moved to play crowd-control.

"Alrigh' folks, alrigh'!" He shouted, trying to be heard over the angry muttering. It wasn't working.

"HEY!" Brom shouted, and the commotion abruptly stopped. Carneth gave Brom a look, but the bugbear just smiled back. The dwarf shook his head.

Turning back to the crowd, he said, "Look, we got it under control here, so ye can all stop worryin' and scram."

"Control?" One angry voice shot back sarcastically, "This doesn't look like control, shortstuff. People are still getting murdered, and as far as I've heard, your guards still have no idea who is behind it all. So forgive us if we're a little concerned." There was a general murmur of agreement.

Carneth looked sideways at Brom, things were starting to look serious. "We understand ye're frustrated, but we're workin' hard on..." He was cut off.

"Don't make me laugh!" said the voice, "If you were working hard we'd be seeing results. No, you know what I think? I think the truth is that our own King doesn't care that his people are getting murdered!" The agreement was louder this time, more confident. The crowd got more restless.

"Alrigh', who are ye?" Carneth shot back, "Step out t' where I can see ye." He was hoping that luring the voice out of the crowd would steal the man's bravado.

[Devias Harrow]

The man stepped out of the crowd, chin raised haughtily, staring down at the stocky dwarf.

"My name is Devias Harrow," He said deliberately. "I'm a merchant and citizen of Mittelmarch. And no, master dwarf, I am not going to just 'go about my business'."

Having been given an introduction, he didn't allow Carneth an opportunity to speak. He turned to the crowd quickly. He knew he had their full attention.

"I have lived here for many a year, and I've never felt so unsafe as I do now. I am afraid to let my family out on the streets alone. I am afraid to even go out at night. I know I am not the only one." He paused for a second, looking into the crowd. "Tell me, fellow Mittelmarchers, is this how you want to feel in your own homes? Of course not." His audience shook their heads. He had them enthralled now.

"I ask of you again, bretheren: whose job is it to make us feel safe?"

"The King's!" Someone shouted from the back of the crowd.

"Yes!" He shouted back, but then quieted. "Our Lord Gron. It's his job, isn't it?" He paused again, briefly. He looked to Carneth and Brom again. The bugbear was looking around, unsure of what to think. The dwarf was glaring at him. "And do you think he is doing his job?" Harrow asked the crowd.

He didn't even need to hear their answer. He knew they were behind him in full.

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar turned to listen to the man. He whispers to Baethor, "He's right you know...we have lost our ability to keep these people safe. Again another King leaves us. It's time for a change."

"Concerning Oof, Dorian let me know where his camp is in the Greatwood. We will take some guards and bring him in." (ooc: We'll do this as an RP battle at Holliday Park)

"Come, lets get a brew."

Nichtmar walks through crowd getting by, part of him wants to just shout at the man, but this Devias is right. So he continues to walk to Cedric's Inn. With the weight of worry he takes a seat at the bar. Gesture's Two to the bartender.

He kills the first mug and pushes it out of the way and begins to sip the second.

[Baethor]

The dwarf follows in the ogres wake through the crowd as the watch carries off the body of the elf. climbing up onto the stool next to Nichtmar, the dwarf removes his helmet and examines the dent in the steel as he quietly sips his drink. "If we dont get this stopped soon it may not be safe fer me here much longer Nichtmar...Humans have good memories."

[Sir Nichtmar]

He takes another big gulp. "Yeah, this ungrateful lot. How many times we save this place from burnin to the ground. Ok, their was that one time, but hey we made it better. Now we have stone walls and a city to be proud of...eh hell I could almost just retire and live at the Silver Meadow full time. Seems like there's always something."

The ogre finishes his second and waves for another.

[Anvil]

Anvil had finally dodged his "bodyguards" and ducks into the inn to hopefully stay "lost" for a few hours. He can see some old friends at the bar and heads towards them wondering why they are looking so serious.

"Hail Sir Nichtmar and Baethor, may your blades never slow and your valor always win the day., Care if I join you?"

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar grins as he sees and hears a familiar friend. "Ah Anvil, It's always good to see ya. Come your always welcome of course."

Nichtmar waves for another ale.

"So how are you settlin in?"

[Anvil]

Anvil works up to his friends and smiles.

"So far so good, but I've noticed some tension out in the streets and heard stories of some murders. "

Anvil takes up the ale

"I hope it's random, but the stories say it's only against non-humans, is it true?"

[Baethor]

The dwarf sloshes back the remainder of his first ale, the barkeep already has his second waiting.
"Ai...But keep yer voice down, no need to get people more on edge while they've a drop a' the creature in em...Come on, lets take that table in the corner."

Without waiting for his compatriots the dwarf hops off the stool and reaches up to the bar for his drink. walking back to the table in the corner he grabs himself a chair and puts its back to the wall, leaning back comfortably as he takes another gulp of his ale.