Outside the Sword
Daud stepped out from his perch above the city street. He was crouched down on a partially collapsed balcony of an old apartment building. The people below him were discussing amongst themselves about the most ridiculous things he had ever heard. He unsheathed his sword. It was a nicked and duller cutlass he pilfered from a wrecked ship offshore of his home island, Serkonos.
Daud took a deep breath through his nose. Then he took another. Then another. The pair on the street had just split up and he began to make his move. He dropped down to the street a little less graceful than he'd have liked. He hurt his ankle, but he ignored it. He crossed the thin street and pushed his way into the dark gray building that his target was in.
He slipped down a hall until he came to a door frame that he stopped at the side of. He peered around the corner and spied two figures inside. He swished around the corner and closed in on one of the guys. He plunged his dull sword into the spine of the first guard. His scream was muffled, but still attracted the attention of the other goon.
With a yell, the second man ran at Daud. Daud ducked low and tackled the man to the ground, doing his best to cut the throat of the attacker. His blade was too dull, and through gritted teeth, he cursed when he heard several sets of footsteps charge into the room.
Daud had finally killed the second guard so he tried to hide, but he was caught by the scruff of his dirty jacket. He had his blade knocked from his hands and was proceeding to be beaten by the reinforcements. A few kicks in the stomach and head, and Daud was down on the ground.
"You think you could come in here, and take our turf!" one of the guys yelled, "Huh!? You filthy sewer rat!"
Two more kicks connected with Daud's head. He was starting to get dizzy. Daud was now curled up on the ground while his attackers were man handling him. He felt sick. How had he gotten himself into this? It all started when his neighborhood gang leader needed muscle and Daud needed food.
"Bastillian is a broken city, but you scum live here and you might as well make yourselves useful," Boss George had said to them.
Just a few days ago, Boss George had called all the young men from the small Bastillian neighborhood of Gantran Street for a meeting. Boss George said he needed to send someone unaffiliated to another neighborhood and take out another Boss there. He was offering a reward of two hundred Imperial Coins. That was enough food to eat for a month.
Daud had killed a few people before, but no one quite as protected like a gang boss. When Daud was just a few years younger, he killed two burglars trying to steal his valuables. They had broken into his sister's room. He got to the room in time and caught both of them. He still remembers the look on his sister's face when she got up and Daud was tearing them apart with a club he found.
Daud snapped back to reality as a hand caught on his hair and dragged him to his feet. A man had walked into the room. He was bald, and wearing a torn vest and held a ridiculous little dog in his arms. It yipped annoyingly as he approached.
"Hey Boss, we caught this punk sneaking through the rooms with a old butter knife for a sword," the man holding Daud by the hair said arrogantly.
The Boss eyed Daud up and down intently before parting his filthy, wine soaked lips and saying,
"So boy, what do you think here, now that you're gonna die? You will die, I hope you know. You can't expect to redeem yourself after killing two of my guys."
He motioned to the two bodies Daud had struggled to dispatch, "Mr. Jillens wants to know your thoughts, in your last moments. He so enjoys that..." He petted his little dog with his fat, disgusting hands and it seemed to grin devilishly at him.
Daud gritted his teeth but kept his lips drawn tight. After a few unsuccessful wrenches of pulling, he closed his eyes. He remembered his sister's face. It was light, and soft, and held such hope and admiration of him. Her image faded from view as Daud opened his eyes and looked at the Boss with an evil glare.
"You want to know, what I think?" Daud asked, darkly, and without fear, "I think I have a few things left to do. And even now, as I face this den of filth and vice, I find myself spitting in the face of oblivion."
Daud raised his gaze to looking directly into the Boss' face,
"I promise I will kill you."
The fat boss laughed. But something strange happened. Daud wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline that surrounded the moment. Maybe it was the hate that stopped everything in that moment. But just that happened: everything stopped. He felt his hair fall free of the grasp of his captor. He looked around the room until his gaze rested on an elegant armchair in the corner. It wasn't there when Daud entered this room.
Just then a collection of ash in the air materialized and mashed together until they formed the shape of a man. The man was sitting cross-armed. His eyes were closed, but they soon opened to reveal a pair of abyssal black eyes staring right into Daud's.
"Hello Daud," the stranger said very calmly.
"How do you know my name?" Daud said after a brief couple of moments.
"I know a great many things. But one thing I do not know eludes me, and I want to know it. Did you mean that promise?" the stranger asked.
"I..." Daud hesitated, then looked around to the frozen image of the Boss and his pathetic dog, "Yes I did."
"Then allow me to help you along," the stranger said, "I am the Outsider, and this is my mark."
The Outsider raised his hand. Daud felt a burning in his left hand and he raised it to look. A tattoo was burning itself onto Daud's left hand on the back, just below the knuckles. The design was very simple, yet oddly Daud couldn't focus on it. He blinked a few times, and all it did was make the vertigo worse.
"With this mark," the Outsider continued, "You will be granted the power to destroy your enemies. Or you will receive the cunning to elude them forever. I leave this choice to you."
"What do you want from me?" Daud asked tentatively.
"I want to watch a good show," the Outsider said with finality.
The Outsider stood up from his chair. He pointed to the sword that was knocked from Daud's hand and said,
"One more thing. That blade has been useful to you, but I have given it a reworking that you may like. Goodbye, Daud, we'll speak again soon."
Time returned to normal. Daud bent over and picked up the sword. It was polished, and sharp again. It was almost like new. He turned around to the baffled stares of the Boss and the goons that had held him captive. Daud brandished the blade and dove at them.
He moved so fast. And not only did he move fast but he also saw things coming and was able to dodge them fluidly. Even as Daud was carving through the men with the ease that knives move through butter, he couldn't help but create a smile on his embittered face.
With the room a mess of blood and Daud feeling a need to leave soon, he went straight home. He went into the apartment building that he lived. Daud found his way to the top floor and keyed his way into the small two room apartment that he and his sister shared. She was not home yet.
Daud sat down and buried his face in his hands. What happened? He thought back to the room with his death fast approaching. He was surrounded, unarmed, and alone. And then the ghost with black eyes came and burned a mark into Daud's hand.
The Outsider, he had called himself. Daud tried to picture his face and likeness, but the Outsider's appearance mysteriously eluded Daud's thoughts. He could only see the black, empty eyes. Daud then looked at the back of his hand. The tattoo was still there. Daud couldn't focus on it. For some reason, it was blurry but all the other objects in the room were crisp and clear.
Daud got up and left his apartment. His brief stay was only interrupted by a snack. Daud needed to get back to Boss George so he could give him the news that the Boss with the dog had died by his hand. He arrived at Boss George's hideout, an old antique shop, and invited himself in past the door guards. Boss George was waiting for him. He was younger than Daud, but had undeniably seen much more violence.
"Daud my friend," he said with a grin, "You take care of that errand I sent you on?"
"Yes Boss George," Daud spoke in a grim way, "His dog doesn't have an owner, anymore."
"Excellent, excellent," Boss George smirked, "With him gone, we can move in on the territory. You did great Daud. Here is the payment."
Boss George motioned for another thug to come to him carrying a small box. It jingled as he approached. The thug opened the small box's lid and revealed a collection of coins. They gleamed in the dim light and Daud licked his lips.
Daud grabbed the box out of his hands and began to walk out. Boss George called out after him,
"Hey Daud! Maybe you ought to think about a career in this field of work!"
Daud just smiled and kept walking. He knew he would begin this career. He found himself leaving the district and finding a few others who were willing to work for him. He was going to start a small gang of his own. After a night of drinking, they settled on the name, The Whalers.
Daud and the Whalers drank all night and celebrated their new power.
Daud went back to his apartment the next morning. He knew his sister would be there, and be angry with him. She was always angry. He found his sister waiting for him in the living room. She was sitting on the ratty sofa, with her arms crossed.
"Where were you?" she asked harshly.
"I was getting some money," he said coolly.
"Yeah, well where is that?" she asked.
"I spent it," he said.
"Oh, you spent it? On food? Of course not! You never think of anybody but yourself! I work all day long and I can barely make enough to pay our bills! And when you get money what do you do? Drink it all away! I should-"
"You should stop talking," Daud declared darkly.
"Or what?"
Daud answered by unsheathing his sword and let it slide elegantly across her neck. Her look of surprise was only matched by the strange stare she gave him as her head fell to the floor. The dull thud matched the buzzing in Daud's head. Had he really just killed her? He thought about killing her sometimes. But he never really -he looked down at her body- thought he ever would.
Daud felt a burning on his hand and looked at the tattoo given to him by the Outsider. Before he could not focus his sight on the symbol, and he still could not. But the strange circular patter was more clear than before, and Daud immediately understood.
Daud got his few possessions in a traveling trunk and left promptly. He made his way to the docks and called for his gang by way of messenger. In the span of an hour his followers had arrived and Daud had them prepared to leave for Dunwall, the Capital of the Empire. He knew that opportunites for his new powers to be exploited could be found in a wealthier city. His time in the dying island of Serkonos, had ended. Daud and his men boarded the ship with enthusiasm to leave their wretched home.
Daud's thoughts twisted at the possibilities of his new found powers and the terrible consequences they could bring. His sister was gone, but he had new friends and new opportunities. Just then the world around Daud went still and gray, and the vertigo ushering the Outsider was all to familiar in the pit of Daud's gut.
"Here you are traversing the sea to Dunwall. What a curious little thing you are," the Outsider spoke evenly and without hesitation.
"I have taken your power and will be using it for what I deem necessary," Daud remarked to him.
"Indeed. There are many interesting endeavors ahead of you Daud. Know I will be watching you with great interest."
And with that, the Outsider disappeared. Daud looked onward onto the horizon. He thought about Dunwall, and about home. He looked at his tattoo and smiled at the possibilities. He whispered to himself as the ship glided farther and farther from shore,
"Oh the power I wield, no more shall I fear."