Sparrow is not happy with you people.
MasterAssassinScrolls: Don't worry, Zevran is still alive. I might have been unconsciously lazy when making my assassin and based it off my distant memory of him. Whoops :S. And to your ever present questions? ;) Spoilers.
Snowhelm: Yes, where I'm from if nobody tries to kill you on your birthday, they don't love you enough. And I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.
Chapter 11: The Interrogation
Believe it or not, I'm not a stranger to getting my ass kicked. My father, STEP father, was not a nice man. He was a quiet man, but definitely not a thinker. He made sure that I was ready for the world beating me down.
I think I can safely say that before I came to Ferelden, he featured in my nightmares often. Now? I haven't thought of him in over a year.
He liked to spend time in his shed, woodworking. He'd make small things, wood carvings, stools mirrors etc. I hated the mans guts, but I was envious of his skill. I can't do that, make things. Hell, I can't even cook. I once tried to make a fruit salad and nearly burnt my house down.
The thing that sticks with me, even after all these years of not seeing him, was the smell of that shed. Oils, varnishes, the smell of sap, of sawdust...
I should set the scene. The shed is small, maybe six feet long and five wide. After you enter there's a window on your left. Under it is a small machine. You'd put like a block of wood on it, it would spin, and then you'd use your tools to chisel or scrape or something (I don't know the word for it). So this thing, it spins pretty fast, I mean you could sometimes smell the wood burning from the heat.
There was a block of wood on the machine, spinning away as I watched. I asked him once, "Teach me how to do that. Teach me how to make things like that." He just looked at me, he had this little smile on his face and looking back, I should have run. Run far. But I was a kid, I didn't know.
But he grabbed my hand and made me grab the block. The skin on my palm was ripped and burnt, splinters all over. My hand was nearly yanked off, those things are really dangerous.
"He fell," I remember him saying to my mother when she ran to my screams, her own joining when she saw the state of my hand.
Oh well, no lasting damage. Not physically anyway. Well, we all have scars from something.
I never really went into the shed after that.
So while I'm not a stranger, doesn't mean I'm gonna get used to it.
The sky is dark, with a grey sheen as heavy clouds roll past. Beads of rain smatter the window, but lightly. The howling wind whistles through the streets, warding everyone to stay inside and wrap up warm.
"Are you going to scowl at the sky all day again?" Tamarel asks from the opposite bed. I glance at her and see her propping her face up to look at me as she lightly kicks the walls. "Because it wasn't the sky that tried to kill you. It was an assassin. Not a very nice bunch," she adds, curling her nose distastefully before giving me a wink.
It's been over a month since my birthday, and my near death. I scratch my beard before resuming my frown. I seem to nearly die a lot here. Apart from the occasional car and angry mothers and fathers, nothing really came close to killing me back home. I should proabably learn to be more careful.
It wouldn't do to die, definitely wouldn't be helpful.
So yes, a month of recovery as ordered by Elvha. She was able to fix up my ribs - three broken and two cracked apparently - and my broken ankle quick enough but she advised some bed rest before I was up to 100%.
When magic heals you, it isn't some mystical thing where suddenly you're fighting fit in seconds. The way it was explained to me, the mage uses their magic to encourage the body to speed up the healing process. That's why someone with a mortal injury can be saved with magic, if they're reached quick enough. But afterwards, your body is feeling very drained. I mean, the magic is just speeding up a process that should take weeks, if not longer, maybe putting in a bit of encouragement here and that so that things go smoothly. It's your own body that does most of the work. The first few days I found it hard to even move, let alone fight. Which has led to a brooding period.
Or at least it would be if I could get rid of an annoying elf!
"Go away Tamarel," I growl, to which she just chuckles.
"You'd miss me if I was gone silly," she says coyly. "Who else would you ogle before bedtime?"
I blush furiously as she laughs. "I told you already, I saw movement and glanced."
"For a whole minute?" she asks sweetly as I growl. "Aww, someone's grumpy."
I look at her with an angered face. "Someone tried to kill me a few weeks ago, forgive me for being slightly pissed off." I turn back to the window and try to burn a hole in the clouds.
"We'll find them Sparrow," Tamarel says seriously. I glance at her and see no trace of the joker who was there a moment ago. "We look after our own."
"Thank you," I say quietly before turning back and trying to get some rest.
3 Weeks later
When the sky darkens, there's a knock on the door. Duncan enters and nods at Tamarel who gives him a strange salute, bending back her ring finger on her left hand and placing it over her heart. She flashes me a wink and leaves.
"How are you feeling?" Duncan asks as he looks out the window. The light of candle is dim, but I can see his face reflected. He doesn't look tired anymore. He looks ready, positively buzzing with energy.
"Ready," I say in a low voice. Tonight is the night. The Guards drew a blank on my attack, and couldn't do much as we'd left a corpse for them instead of a prisoner, not that I think that would have helped. So with that in mind, I've somewhat persuaded Duncan to start our own investigation. Unlike the Guards, I won't baulk at the mention of the Crows.
I make my way down to the armoury, Duncan accompanying me. Kherek and Kaiden are there, talking nonchalantly as they attend their weapons. I nod at Kaiden and he returns the gesture before both shuffle out.
With a long sigh I lean against a weapon stand. To be honest, my bones still ache. Something tells me that healing naturally would have been less painful, even if it had maimed me. I rub the sides of my head, trying to massage out the constant headache. At this point, I notice Duncan is behind me.
"Are you sure that you know what you're doing?" Duncan asks, for the millionth time. I groan as I get to my feet, more from frustration than any particular aches. Always with the bloody questions. I move over to the armours as I answer.
"Yes, the assassin was Itali-," I pause. Clear my throat. "Antivan. It's not exactly a huge leap to guess he was a Crow. We found nothing on him that would suggest otherwise," I say as I pull on some leather armour. I'm not strong enough for heavier plate or otherwise, even if I was up to full strength.
"We found nothing on him," Duncan replies quietly. I hear his scepticism, as I've heard it for the past month. The monster in my belly wants to tear his head off. Why doesn't he just listen to me for once.
"Exactly, a pro doesn't exactly take a receipt with him. His weapons were all high quality so we know he wasn't just some lost street thug. And that tattoo he was sporting aroused my suspicions. Tie this for me would you?" I ask, gesturing towards the laces on my sides. Duncan comes forward and quickly knots them tightly. "Add that to the fact that he practically told me so himself? So we go to the only person who I know has connections with the Crows in the city."
"Why are you so sure he was a Crow?" Duncan asks. I look at him as I slip sword belt on. I've decided that until I'm a bit better trained, I'll stick to just using a single sword. As the lightest of the three, I grab the Hero's Blade and sheathe it. I can't help but feel Jacks displeasure, but he remains silent. "Sparrow? Who have you angered so that they would involve a Crow?"
I turn at his harsh tone, fire blazing in my eyes. For a moment, a brief moment, Duncan's eyes turn wary and I see his hand inch for his dagger. But then it halts and he relaxes. I scowl at him.
"Let's just say... I'm not supposed to be here and it may have pissed a few people off that I'm helping you," I say, the lies coming easily from all the practise I've had this year.
Christ, it's been a year
"What do you mean?" Duncan asks in confusion. I slip the assassins dagger behind my back. It's such a fine blade, it would be a shame not to use it. Feeling ready, I angrily turn to face my mentor.
"It means, there's a hundred people out there with a hundred reasons to want me dead. I can't exactly pick one out right now, so I have to chase the evidence. Right now, that's pointing me towards the Crows," I say before striding past him. Before I start to climb the stairs, I turn my to Duncan. "Besides, I'm sure you have your own fair share of enemies, why should we stop at mine? Who knows, they might be getting to you through me. God knows that the Grey Warden's ain't exactly popular in these parts."
I move up the stairs, burning with anger. Duncan's right, though I'll never tell him that. I wouldn't say I have any enemies in this world, but this assassin has proved me wrong. Unless they're trying to get to Duncan through me. Regardless, I need to find out who they are and stop them before they get me killed. If I die, any chance of averting the Blight dies with me. And who knows, maybe I've changed things so much that they won't win without me.
Yeah, guess my ego's back.
It is a safe assumption Sparrow, comes Oakvale's wisened voice. You are a thrown stone in the lake, and you're actions will cause ripples through this whole world.
But still, saying that the whole world hinges on my decisions? Sounds kinda far fetched mate.
Could the same not be said for me? he asks, and I can detect some sadness in his voice. Before I can follow it up, Tamarel appears at the top of the stairs.
"Where are you off to?" she asks in confusion.
"To see a man about a dog," I say coldly as I continue my march out of the barracks. I leave the building and take a deep breath in the crisp winter air.
God, I would kill for a cig right now.
"Really," Tamarel's voice calls to me. "I thought the man had a Crow."
I stop, dead in my tracks. Ahead, I see snowflakes begin to fall.
Winter is here.
I turn to Tamarel, noticing for the first time the knives at her waist, shoulders, thighs... pretty much anywhere she can hold them. She saunters up to me, raising her eyebrows. "What did I tell you? We look after our own." She does that strange gesture again, ring finger bended as she places the hand over her heart.
"What does that mean?" I ask, gesturing. She appears confused for a moment before it appears to click.
"Among the Dalish, this is seen as a gesture of respect. It means that you are held in high regard and I will follow you," she explains as we march through the street. Behind us, I hear Duncan's heavy footfalls crunching the snow.
"Why would you hold me in high regard?" I ask, confused. Tamarel smiles at me for a moment but before she can answer, Duncan catches up. She sends me a wink and I file it away for later.
"How do you wish to handle this," Duncan says calmly, but there's a bite to it. He doesn't like this plan.
But I have to do it. To protect myself. To protect the world.
Eventually, Tamarel announces that we should hit the rooftops. I'm sceptical as we cross the buildings, mindful of slipping on the snow or just falling through the rickety structure. Eventually, the target is in sight.
"So, if someone could help inform me more on what we are doing here?" Tamarel shivers from the cold and Duncan gives me a pointed look.
I sigh, just wanting to get this over with. "For the past few days, I've had Cesar and Ignacious discreetly tailed. I've had some... friends of mine tailing them to see if there's anything suspicious."
"Friends?" Duncan inquires. I glance at him.
"People who would not arouse suspicion," I say slowly.
"And why would they draw suspicion? Who are these men?" Tamarel looks at me blankly and I feel my face darkening.
"They're Crows," I snarl, rage contorting my face. I take a breath to calm myself and continue. "I am working under the assumption that they handle contracts in Ferelden."
"Like Guild leaders," Duncan mutters under his breath, and I see his head incline a fraction.
"Exactly. If it was the Crows who came after me," I look at Duncan with a smile as he seems to warm to the idea, "Which is highly likely, then these two will have spoken to the assassin, armed him and told him where to find me. And they'll know who called the hit." Duncan finally looks at me and I arch a triumphant eyebrow. "So we have a little chat and make them tell us everything."
"And what if it wasn't the Crows?"
I scowl and Duncan's mouth twitches. I turn to Tamarel.
"If some other Grey Wardens wandered into town, we'd at least hear about it right?" I growl and she nods slowly. I turn to glare at the house, my lips curling in disgust. "Ever since I came to this place it's been once guy after the next. Someone wants me dead, I wanna know why. And when I find out who, me and that son of a bitch are gonna have a long conversation about his life choices."
There's silence.
"Okay," Duncan says quietly. I look at him and he nods. "You're right. A danger to one of us is a danger to all of us. You especially." He stares at the house for a few moments. "Tamarel?" She perks up for a moment. "Prepare our guest. Me and Sparrow are going to have a chat."
Tamarel nods once and slips off the roof. She lands with only a whisper and scurries across the street, slipping behind the house and out of view.
"What is it now?" I hiss towards my elder.
"Why are we here?" Duncan asks with an an unwavering calm.
"Are you retarded?" I look at him angrily. "We're here to find out who wants me dead."
"And how are we going to get this information?" He asks, glancing towards the house Tamarel disappeared behind. "These are dangerous assassins and will hardly welcome us with a full confession."
"We. Make. Them," I growl darkly.
Duncan looks over me and gives me an unreadable look. "You realise you still haven't told me why you left the barracks in the first place that night Sparrow." I stay quiet, very much aware of that titbit of information. Duncan sighs and looks ahead. "Remember what I told you before the mine Sparrow. About the darkness. I can't help you if you don't help me," he says blankly. I glare at him menacingly. Yeah, judge me all you want old man, I'm not the one looking to shank your Jory.
Before he can say anything else, a light comes on in the house. A few seconds later the front door opens and Tamarel waves to us.
Showtime.
The house is warm, the fires glowing in the hearths, not yet ready to go out and still fighting to burn. I can admire the sentiment.
In front of me is a man bound my his arms and legs to an armchair. A blindfold covers his eyes, and a gag covers his mouth. He sits calmly, betraying no nervous ticks or such forth, but the way that his head glitters with sweat I can tell Ignacious is much more afraid that he'd like to let on.
The dilemma I had before we came has been throuroughly resolved. Which one to concentrate on first? Cesar was more of an apprentice, doing the more menial tasks, less disciplined. He would crack first, definitely. However, Ignacious is the boss. Cesar's just the weapons smith, maybe the one who handles the introduction of contracts. Ignacious would have met with the client, arranged my death, recruited the assassin and handled the money. He's the big fish. He'd know everything, while Cesar would only know some scraps.
And then there was the matter of the consequences. If Cesar cracked, then Ignacious would most likely have him killed for his betrayal, meaning I couldn't squeeze any more information from him if I needed it. But Ignacious is bullet proof, the top Crow in Ferelden. He'd know exactly what the repercussions are if anyone finds out he talked so it's all the more likely he'll keep his mouth shut about the chat we're about to have.
Which means, when I get what I need from him, I don't have to kill him. He'll be too scared to call a contract out on me for fear of what I might say before I die. And he'll be an easy informant from then on.
And now the tables are turned and Ignacious is at my mercy.
I want to hurt him. Both of them. I really want to hurt them. Because of them, I am in danger. Because of them I'm essentially a dead man walking. Because of them I was helpless for months. I want them to pay for that!
I take a deep breath. Seriously, these people need to invent tobacco already.
"So I hear there's a contract available." I say quietly, leaning against a desk.
Duncan looks at me but remains silent. Tamarel stays by the window, keeping watch for anyone. I hear muffled grunts of confusion from the Crow before they fall silent.
"Arwen, would you kindly remove Master Ignacious' gag," I say, gesturing at Tamarel. She cocks an eyebrow but does as I ask. "Please, forgive us for these... extreme measures. But in our line of work one cannot be too careful, can we?"
Ignacious spits out the gag contemptously and, still blindfolded, sneers at me.
"What service can I be to you, Messere...?"
"Attano," I say cooly. "Corvo Attano. And you can help me find work."
"And what work would this be," Ignacious asks innocently. I growl quietly. I slowly walk across the room, make sure that the two can hear me. As I draw closer, I notice that Ignacious fliches slightly at every step. I crouch in front of him.
"Jack. Sparrow," I say quietly. "Where is he?"
"Sparrow?" Ignacious says dumbly. "Sparrow who?"
I sigh and unsheathe my dagger slowly, letting the metals scrape. Ignacious flinches at the sound but then tries to keep him calm. Lip still trembles though. "Ignacious, don't be like this. We're intelligent men here. Don't lower yourself like that. Now I'm sure that we can conduct our business like men. We don't have to, I can be much less than a man, more an animal really, but most prefer not to go that way. Don't you agree?" He remains silent but the way his mouth is clenched, he knows I mean business.
"Good, now you can tell me more about this Jack Sparrow. Importantly, where do I find him?" I look across at Duncan and nod.
There's a moment of silence before he sighs. "The Grey Warden Barracks."
"The Wardens?" I ask in mock shock. "Since when do we kill Grey Wardens?"
"Since we are paid to," Ignacious says spitefully. I look to Duncan and see him glaring at the assassins. Tamarel spares him a look of loathing before looking back out the window.
"Very good. How many others have accepted this contract? Is there a time limit?"
"The contract ends when Sparrow is dead, or brought to the client. As for others, I cannot divulge that information," Ignacious says warily. I wipe the knife and it produces a dull ring. I sigh.
"Are we sure about that now?" I ask coyly as I slowly drag the knife along his leg. He flinches.
"Two, though one has already failed. The mark is being protected by his allies," Ignacious says quickly as the blade pauses halfway up his calf. I look to Duncan, who continues to stare at me. I'd think twice against taking us on as well.
"Who is the remaining assassin?" I inquire, twisting the knife slightly. Ignacious gasps in fear.
"A woman, called herself the Dread Wolf," he cries, trying to quirm away from the blade. "But she wore a mask-"
"Shaped like a wolves head? And she had deep green eyes?" I ask in confusion. Have I already met the second assassin? And she let me walk away? She had first dibs and everything.
"And red hair, yes yes," Ignacious sputters out as I move the blade away from his delicates, frowning. I... have no idea how to process that tidbit. Putting it to the side, I move on.
"Oh? That's interesting. Tell me, what is the policy on casualties? If these allies of his are in my way, it would seem prudent to... remove them," I say calmly, though inside I feel sick.
"Our client is unconcerned with this. Kill Sparrow, by any means at your disposal or bring him to the client alive," Ignacious grimaces as I apply pressure with the knife, my teeth bared in anger.
Come after me, sure. I'll fuck you up good. Come after my friends?
I'll make you beg for death.
"Final question, and then we can put the unpleasantness of this evening behind us. Who is the client?" I ask calmly, betraying none of my feelings of hatred for this man.
Ignacious pauses and I can feel him tense. "I... cannot tell you that. For my own safety," he nearly whimpers. I smile in satisfaction as I slowly move the knife further up his leg.
"Really? If you stay quiet, I think you can imagine what I'll do. And then you'll be telling me in a falsetto. Is that really necessary?" His lip quivers as my knife rests on his crotch and he stays very very still. We stay like that for a moment before I grow impatient and start tapping the knife.
"The Captain!" he cries in fear, scrambling away from the knife as much as he could. "He called himself the Captain. He's paying a thousand sovereigns to whomever can bring him Jack Sparrow's alive, and half that dead. That's all I know, I swear. Just stop this, please."
I rise to my feet and sheathe my blade, a scowl etched on my face.
"We're leaving," I say coldly, gesturing to Tamarel and Duncan. "I hope this doesn't spoil any future endevours serah." I follow them from the room
"Wait, aren't you going to untie me?" Ignacious' voice calls out. I keep a blank face, though I want to howl and scream and hurt something.
"Nope," I say coldly as the doors slam shut behind me.
Hahah, I will have my vengeance by leaving you tied to a chair all night bitch, that'll show you not to mess with Jack Sparrow BOO-YAH!
Read and Review to uncover the mystery of... The Dread Wolf...