Out Of The Shadows
Chapter Ten:
Pretty, Petty Thieves
"So… w-we'll be helping these thieves, now?" Aerie asked worriedly after Imoen had explained where they were going.
"Thieves aren't all bad," Imoen held her hands up. Truthfully, she wasn't overjoyed either, but she realised she was going to have to justify her choice to her companions, especially Minsc and Aerie. "I mean, look around you, kid," they did so. They looked around at the dirty, smelly street and the shacks and houses that only remained standing because of the weight of their neighbours pressed against them. "A city like this wasn't built in a day; it just looks like it was. I was lucky, I suppose. I grew up in a place where I got taught to read and write and be good with numbers. But people who live in a place like this, well, most of them have got two choices if they want to get out… be either a priest or a thief. Or you could be a priest of Mask, I suppose, which is sort of both… anyway, what I'm saying is not all thieves are cutthroats and killers."
"But… Shadow Thieves?" Aerie could actually be seen thinking over everything she was hearing, even as she asked further questions. "I've… I-I've heard so many terrible things about them…"
"Well, some of them are cutthroats and killers, yeah," Imoen nodded, "we'll just have to be careful with 'em. The important thing is, they might know some stuff about Irenicus, like where he came from and what he's been up to and whatever else has been going on here lately, whereas currently we know zilch about him which kinda puts all of them at an advantage. Besides… I really didn't wanna take a dirt nap today," she remembered the men around them with crossbows, and knew they were probably still being watched.
"Think of it this way, child," Jaheira sighed, "The Shadow Thieves may be bad, but without them the situation in the slums here could be far worse, with smaller gangs constantly fighting for control of each street. They are not ideal, but at least they maintain some kind of order around here."
"Wh-what about the guards?" Aerie asked.
"The Guards are in the employ of the merchants and noble houses, many of whom are involved in far worse crimes than anything the Shadow Thieves have ever sunk to. To anyone else, they are of virtually no use at all."
"That's true," Aerie sighed and nodded slowly. Imoen supposed the actual 'Law' in Amn had never really done much to impress her friend. Slavery was supposed to have been made illegal here, but there was probably just too much money in it for the Lords and Ladies involved to give it up just because of a little thing like that.
"Hoy!" They were greeted at the end of the street by a scruffy boy, about nine or ten years old, with brown hair. Or it could have been blond; it was hard to be sure with all the mud on him. "You be the ones, aye? Uncle Gaelan's sent me to make sure ye don't get lost again."
"I was not lost!" Jaheira fumed. "It was just one wrong turn. I know exactly where I am now."
"Eh, well, he said I've to show ye to the docks. Make sure to stay close, 'cause I don't have time to wait for 'ya."
"Yeah," Imoen rolled her eyes, "I'm sure a kid like you has got a lot of important appointments to keep."
"Aye, well this town's whole economy would fall apart if it weren't for the work us urchins do. So, if'n ye don't mind… oh," the boy suddenly looked past Imoen, his brown eyes widening and his cheeks flushing slightly. "Um… hey, Miss Aerie," he said, furtively looking away and kicking at the dirt by his feet. "It's, er… it's nice to see 'ya out and about, miss. I-I always said the circus was no good for ya…"
"Oh," the Elf squinted for a moment. "H-hello… Brus?"
"You know him?" Imoen arched an eyebrow.
"L-lots of children come to the circus," Aerie said quietly, "I… I used to help some of them get in for free, sometimes…"
"You did?" Imoen gasped, "you wild little rule breaker, you," she grinned as Aerie's cheeks blossomed bashfully.
"Right, so," Brus curled up his lips, "do you people want to see about this job or not?"
"Actually, Brus, can I have a word with you first… over here?" Imoen guided the boy by the shoulder a short distance away from the others.
"What's this about?" He asked suspiciously.
"I just figured you being a professional urchin and all, you might be able to answer a couple of questions, is all."
"Yeah, well, we urchins got families to feed too, y'know."
"Right," Imoen thought, "don't really want to go into that, actually… thing is, I haven't exactly got much cash on me now, but," Imoen smiled and knelt down to whisper, "maybe you could answer a couple of questions and maybe I could get Aerie to hold your hand or something… maybe even a peck on the cheek…" it was hard not to laugh at how red he went.
"W-why would I want that?" He protested far too much. "I… I'm not queer y'know!"
"I think you've got a pretty warped sense of what that means. But it's nothing to be ashamed of, Brus. Aerie's very nice, and very pretty. Bit of a cruel combination for mother nature to come up with if I'm honest… still it's not her fault, I suppose. "
"She… she is a lot prettier than any of those elves who come from Evereska or Suldanessellar," Brus mumbled, "or, y'know, that's what my…what my cousin says, anyway… I don't really notice."
"You know," Imoen sighed, "I remember my first crush. I was about ten, I think, and there was this young monk who had this really funny laugh, kind of like bleating, but he had the most beautiful emerald eyes and hair like strands of woven sunshine…"
"Look, I'll answer any questions you want, s'long as you stop making me feel sick."
"Deal."
"So what do you wanna know?"
"I've heard there's been some fighting going on in the streets."
"Yeah, some rival guild's tried to set up in town, causing the Shadow Thieves a few problems. Quite a few been killed… I expect Renal will sort it out before long though."
"How long has that been going on?"
"Few months," Brus shrugged.
"So Renal's taking his time, then?"
"He's got a plan. He just… he ain't told no one what it is, yet."
"You know anything about this other guild?"
"I know they only come out at night. Uncle Gaelan always makes sure us urchins are all home soon as the sun sets, but otherwise… anything else?"
"Not at the moment… I might need your help again sometime, though…"
If Irenicus was involved with this other guild, Imoen thought, then they might be in more immediate danger than she first thought. It only helped further convince her that siding with The Shadow Thieves was the best course of action, for now.
Bloodscalp's Junk Traders Limited - Don't be fleeced by anyone else…
That was the sign in front of the orange brick building they arrived at, right on the edge of the city and the ocean. The docks were nice compared to the slums they had left, with cobbled, well drained streets. In any case, regardless of the sensibility of that slogan, the group of adventurers went inside and announced to one of the scrawny workmen that they wished to see Renal. He left to fetch him, leaving them surrounded by crates of 'junk', with lots of other paraphernalia that hadn't been sorted yet, and another workman. Dark skinned and not as tall as Minsc, but barrel chested and with the thickest arms Imoen had ever seen. He stood still as statue, his eyes scrutinising the party's every move.
"Erm… you're a bit, heavy, for a rag and bone man, ain't ya?" Imoen tried making conversation with him as she examined a wind chime.
"You what?" He glared furiously at her. "You calling me fat?"
"Er, no… o-of course not, I just mean," Imoen wisely changed the subject, "Erm… nice junk you got here."
"Yeah," he sneered, "amazing what stuff people throw away."
"Sure is. I mean, some of it looks brand new… er, Tim?" She peered. The workers here all seemed to have name badges pinned on them. She knew the next thing she uttered was a mistake even before she said, but it was impossible to resist. "So, do they call you Tiny Tim?"
"Tiny?" He growled, clenching his hammer like fists as he advanced on Imoen. She was sure she heard bones crack and backed away… unfortunately she backed into a crate and was now trapped. "Just what in the hells is that supposed to mean?"
"I-I mean, because you're so… so big, obviously," the redhead tried to explain through her desperate grin. "It's a joke…"
"You a comedian, are you?"
"Erm… nope," she squeeked.
"Didn't think so," he scoffed and then, seemingly satisfied, he went back to stand in his position. Imoen breathed out again.
"Hey, thanks for all rushing to my aid there, fellas'," she scowled at her companions, who all wore amused expressions. "Maybe I'll do the same for you all, someday.,."
"Oi, now, what's going on 'ere?" A man had appeared at the top of a stairway, leading from the main floor up to an office, apparently. He had expensive leather boots, a long dark red coat and a chiselled face like an old stature and dark well washed hair. He was flanked by what seemed to be two more identical copies of Tim… Triplets? That had to have been a really big woman… anyway, the man who seemed to be in charge started addressing the other workers sorting through junk as he descended the stairs. "Which of you scrotums put that new sign up outside?"
The other men stopped their work, sharing nervous glances before one of them tentatively put his hand up.
"Um, that… that was me," the skinny fellow admitted, "see, I thought the old one was a bit weathered, so I…"
"No, no… I like it," the man in the red coat said as he crossed the floor.
"You do?" The skinny one blinked in surprise.
"Nice font, I thought."
"Oh… thank you!"
"Very artistic."
"Thank you!"
"Eye catching."
"Y-yes, sir…"
"And to the point…"
"I'll take it down, sir," the skinny man bowed and hurried away.
"Excellent," the red coated man beamed a smile at the adventurers. "So now, who be you chaps and chapettes?"
"Are you Renal Bloodscalp?" Imoen peered. "Leader of the Shadow Thieves?"
"Shadow Thieves?" He tried to sound astonished. "Don't know what you mean, young miss. This 'ere is just a perfectly legitimate family run business. We recycle junk… incidentally," the man, who was almost certainly Renal Bloodscalp grabbed a worker by the shoulder, pulling a chain and locket out from inside his coat. "Keep telling you; don't mix this plain stuff in with the magic items. If our buyers found out, we'd get ourselves a poor reputation… and we can't have that now, can we?"
"No… n-no sir," the man shook his head vigorously and ran away.
"Family business, eh?" Imoen peered at Tim and his clones. "So, why all the bodyguards?"
"What, the brothers Tim?" Renal glanced at them. "Not bodyguards, they're… my nephews."
"Right," Imoen rolled her eyes. "Anyway, a man named Bayle sent us here."
"Bayle, eh?" Renal rubbed his square chin. "Well, I've never heard that name before. Maybe you should come upstairs and tell me a bit about him…"
They all followed him up, to a perfectly ordinary office with a desk, chairs, cabinets… nothing at all to suggest anything untoward happening here. Well, if you didn't count the board with all the throwing knives sticking out.
"So, you are the ones who crawled out of that sewer of Irenicus's?" Renal said, sitting down and putting his feet up on the desk. "Imoen, Jaheira, Minsc, and… don't know you lass," he looked pointedly at the Elf.
"Um… A-Aerie," she squeeked, avoiding his eyes and hiding a bit behind Minsc.
"Aerie? You've a certain charm, I suppose. And Yoshi… how good it is to see you again!"
"Yoshimo, if you please sire," the Kara-Turan bowed, "where I come from, pet names like that are… well, let us say that you and I have not yet become so familiar…"
"You know him?" Imoen arched an eyebrow.
"Not like that…"
"Freelancers like your friend here are not really appreciated in this city," Renal explained, "but, I trust you have come to pay your debt, hm?"
"I believe you have a task," Yoshimo bowed again.
"I do?" Renal thought a moment. "Oh! I do! Yes… I'm having a spot of bother with a fellow who runs one of our guildhouses, a man named Mae'Var. He and I go way back, and have cultivated a very special understanding; I scratch his back, he tries to stick a knife in mine. Trouble is, so as not to upset the other guildmasters, I'm going to need a bit of evidence before I can return his favour in kind."
"But… y-you're thieves?" Aerie spoke up, boldly. "W-why can't you get the evidence yourselves?" She asked, and then quickly sank away again when eyes started turning towards her.
"Well, don't you know already?" Renal asked.
"If she knew, she would not ask," Jaheira frowned, "stop being obtuse and answer her damn question."
"Well, aren't you feisty? Very well… you may have heard already, but there's been a bit of a scrap taking place for control of this city and I'm afraid all my best people are caught up in it. Besides, it'll be best I send people Mae'Var doesn't know already."
"Send?"
"Oh yes, the task is quite simple; go over there, join his guild, find some evidence that he's getting too big for his boots, then report back to me. Any questions?"
"Are you really the leader of the Shadow Thieves?" Imoen asked.
"What do you think?"
No, was what she thought. He was too showy; real leaders tended to keep quiet, let other people to do the working and the talking until they had to. Renal was more of a middle man, or their public face, as it were.
"What do we get for helping you?" She smirked.
"Apart from the love and respect of myself and the organisation I represent?" Renal considered for a moment. "Well, I heard you were involved with the Thieves Guild up in Baldur's Gate? How'd you like to run your own guild, provided you do your job well and the situation becomes vacant."
It was a surprising offer; the situation must be far worse than she thought if he was offering a job like that to her. Imoen thought that might be a little too much responsibility for her right now. Although, they needed a secure base to work from, didn't they? And it would be a way in with the Shadow Thieves, making it easier to find out about Irenicus… it might not be so bad, provided she got to run things her own way, of course… In the end, she accepted the offer.
"I do not like it," Jaheira said when they were outside, "we should be pursuing Irenicus, not getting involved in some Guild war."
"Irenicus is involved with this other Guild, somehow," Imoen explained, "why else would the Shadow Thieves have sent so many of their own men after him? The enemy of my enemy is our friend, right?"
"Until they do not need us anymore, and then they stab us in the back."
"Anyway, you said yourself, the Shadow Thieves stop there from being anarchy around here."
"You did say that," Yoshimo nodded.
"Fine," Jaheira huffed, "let us just get this done quickly so we can get on with what we should be doing."
Jaheira had been becoming increasingly tense all day, Imoen noticed. She could almost feel the druid's muscles tightening around herself even from several feet away… but there was little could be done now.
Mae'Var's guildhall was, on the outside, a nondescript three storey building fronted on the ground floor by a shop. A bookshop in fact; Aerie was delighted. So much so that after Imoen had explained who they were and shown and the old man behind the counter the papers Renal had provided, the redhead then had to drag the Elf away from the shelves so they could head further in. Although there was little difference in size between them, the Avariel, Imoen had discovered in their sparring, was much lighter, and let out a small yelp as she was pulled away by the heavier woman, just managing to stuff the book she was looking at back on the shelf.
The old man knocked seven times on a door at the back of the shop, which unlocked seconds later. Bit disappointing that there wasn't one of those secret switches hidden in the spine of a book, but Imoen supposed that it being a bookshop that might be a bit awkward if anyone wanted to browse.
Heads turned to look at all of them in the next room, especially at Minsc. It seemed to be a sort of living area with couches and tables, a small bar and ashtrays and a door leading down into a cellar. About a dozen men and women were sprawled around it, all in dark clothes and leather, a few carrying knives and most of them bore scars. They started to regard the newcomers rather menacingly… Imoen ignored them and went to the cellar door to inquire about Mae'Var. The quite big fellow guarding it told her the man was busy and that she had to wait a few minutes. She did so, smiling and nodding at the rogues around her even as she knew they were all trying to weigh how much she was worth. In fact one man, who had probably had a bit too much to drink, came out with it quite directly…
"How much fer a night with you, then, dahling?" He slurred. Imoen resisted the urge to immediately run outside and find a bucket.
"Twenty thousand gold pieces," she said, standing her ground.
"Bit steep," he said, although he had thought long and hard about it. "What can I get fer ten?"
"Minsc?" The mighty ranger stood beside her, and the man propositioning them decided just to hang on to his money.
A few minutes turned into half an hour. The adventurers began to spread out across the room, admiring paintings, helping themselves to drinks. It was when Imoen left Aerie sat on her own to fetch herself a mug of water that things started to kick off…
"Well ain't you a sweet looking thing?" Imoen was at the bar pouring herself the drink when she heard a man's voice coming from where she had left Aerie. She spun around; three of them had surrounded the Elf; she looked desperately to Imoen for help, even as she sunk back into her seat. The redhead was about to run back, when two more thieves took hold of each of her arms holding her securely in place… dumb, stupid… buffleheaded! She should have made sure she stayed close to her friend… she struggled to free herself, but it was useless…
"What's your name?" The man asked.
"A… A-Aerie," the Elf stuttered.
"A-A-Aerie?" He mocked. He leaned over her, flashing a wicked grin. "Just so you know, name's Zyntris, and I'm the senior cutpurse here. And what I want, I get. You hear me?"
"I-I hear," the Elf gulped. "P-please excuse me, I-I have to go and…"
"No, you ain't going nowhere," he snapped, grabbing her by the wrist and flinging her from her seat, not letting go. Aerie tried to pull away, but wasn't strong to break free of his grip on her arm. "What did you say yer name was? Air head?"
"Nice one, Zyn!" His cronies laughed.
"Please," Aerie started to weep, still struggling. "I-I…"
"Aye-aye?" Zyntris chuckled. "In the navy, are ye?"
"Nice one, Zyn!" That seemed to be all his friends were capable of saying.
Imoen tried again to get free, but fared no better than last time. She looked around for help… Minsc had gone out to take of some business… Yoshimo must have gone with him, and probably another crony was holding them up, too. That left…
"Oi… what do you want?" Zyntris was surprised by a tap on his shoulder. He looked over it to see Jaheira staring coolly at him. "You wait your turn, mongrel. I wanna play with Air-head here, first."
"Hm," the side of druids mouth quirked up. "It is very easy to make fun of some people, is it not?"
"Yeah… so?"
"I think I will have a lot fun with you," he looked back on the druid. He probably didn't fully realise what a mistake he'd made until his nose burst all across his face and he went flying back.
His two friends were stunned for a moment, and then realising they still had superior numbers they rushed at Jaheira, as did the two holding Imoen. The redhead managed to trip one of them. The druid easily avoided and stepped around the other three as they came, one of them running head first into the wall. One of them tried to take a swing at her, which she blocked and countered with an uppercut sending him tumbling backwards. The last one tried to sneak up behind, only for a sudden look of surprise to appear on his face as he sunk to his knees… Aerie was breathing heavily, a few sparks of elcectricity still left in her hand.
Finally, Zyntris managed to find his feet and attempted to rush Jaheira from behind. She caught him by the arm and used his own momentum to fling him up and over onto his back, and was then quickly sat on top of him raining down blow after blow, even after he had clearly lost consciousness. The other thieves in the room just shrugged and returned to their drinks.
"Er… Jae?" Imoen approached slowly. The druid had this feral look about her, like she was completely lost to her rage. "Um… I-I think he's out…" somehow, the words seemed to get through, and she stopped, looking back on Imoen as her typically composed features returned. "You… feeling better now?"
"A little," she nodded, "although, not quite as much fun as I thought it would be."
"What's going on up here?" A man appeared by the cellar door, at about the same time Minsc and Yoshimo returned, looking around with puzzled expressions.
"Poor, dear Zyntris has made a fool of himself again, I fear," a dark haired woman with a deep tan purred.
"Right," the man sighed, and turned to Imoen and Jaheira, "well, Mae'Var is ready to see you, now," the adventurers headed for the door, but were blocked again. "'Ere, doesn't take five of you to chat, now, does it? One will do."
Imoen looked around at her companions; the only real choices were herself, Yoshimo or Jaheira. She wasn't sure she could trust Jaheira to keep a cool head, or Yoshimo at all, which meant it was going to be her, then. She nodded, her companions appearing to instinctively understand what her decision was, and then she disappeared down below…
It was dark. Obviously not that unusual for a cellar to be dark. It was a bit unusual for there to be cages, though. Human cages, judging by the pots laid out in them although they were currently. She tried to swallow back the flashes of memory she had of the cage she'd been in, of Irenicus and his experiments and his knives… she needed to slow her heart down before it burst through her chest…
She managed to, after a minute. Trying to think happy thoughts, of being anywhere other than here, and then she started to take little steps between the cages to the torchlight at the other end of the cellar. She had to think; the little fight upstairs may have had them all on guard, now. That might be why only she was allowed down here... she needed them to relax and take their eyes off her a bit...
"Heya!" She grinned and waved. A man glared up at her with his one eye, the other one covered in scar tissue. She tried not to look at the torture table next to him which appeared to have recently been used; he was washing the blood of his hands even as he turned to her. "I'm Imoen. Nice… nice place you got here."
"No it isn't," he scowled, "I don't like sarcasm. What's your reason for bothering me?"
"No, I meant it. A few more rugs, some wallpaper to cover a few of the cracks on the walls, maybe a lick of peach paint…"
"How about I throw you on the rack here and paint the walls with your blood?"
"Hm… red and peach? Nah, don't think it'll work…"
"Who are you?" He demanded more forcefully.
"Er… right," Imoen said with a sheepish shrug, handing over the papers Renal had given her.
"I see," he pored over them for a minute, "so… Renal has sent you? Isn't that interesting."
"Is it? I learnt recently that Bees have their own language; I thought that interesting. But this is just… a job," Imoen tried not to balk at the word.
"I think I see why he wanted rid of you," Mae'Var shook his head, "your lips move and you don't really care what comes out, do you?"
"Sorry, am I rambling again? I do that when I'm nervous. My foster father used to say I could talk the hind legs off a donkey, and then it would still try to walk away…"
"Please shut up," he said, exasperated. "I suppose I shall have to think of some pissant task for you to prove your worth… and keep you out of my hair. In the meantime, you may as well go up and get settled in; I will summon you when I have something. You will also have to sign a contract… seek Anishai for that."
"Sure, I'll do that. Y'know, cross the tees and dot the old…" he glared at her. "Eye… well, see you later, then," she hurriedly backed away, grinning like a goon.
"Unbelievable," Mae'Var sighed and shook his head as soon as he was sure she had left. "They're sending me monkeys, now?" He pulled a knife from his belt.
"Were I you," the space near to Mae'Var distorted and shimmered. A man in a long, flowing red robe with gold patterns and trim stepped through, stroking his dark beard. "I would keep a close eye on that simian," the wizard said, stepping past Mae'Var and gazing thoughtfully up the stairs after Imoen, a small, knowing smile on his face... "She may not be quite so stupid as she seems."
"My dear Edwin," Mae'Var grinned, "rest assured; no one is as stupid as she seems."
He threw the knife, his grin growing wider as it thudded into the middle of the target twelve feet away. The wizard arched an eyebrow and bowed gracefully as he disappeared.