AN:

This is a short chapter as I got some time to write some words down and although I wanted to include a lot more, I just don't have the time (I have no idea how people get out 2k+ word chapters every other day). Exams end pretty early for me in December, so I'll do my best to get another, longer, chapter out around the new year. So cya till then and thanks for reading :)

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Chapter 19: The Information

Creak

Double doors groan as two men strain to push them open, letting light from lanterns shine onto the crates stacked around the warehouse. With the entrance fully open, a cart eases inside, drawn by a horse with two men sitting in the front, guiding it to a stop in the center.

The cloth covering the cart pulls open, letting two more men step out from the large cart with muskets tightly gripped in their hands as the entrance shuts behind them.

Thump

"You two, load 'er quick, I wanna be gone within the hour. Cam, show them what to get and keep your eyes open." The passenger from the front of the cart harshly orders the two men that opened the doors, wearing clothing of much lesser quality than the others with them.

The two meekly nod as they scurry to follow behind one of the musket wielding guards, passing by the remaining three that nervously scan the stacks of crates within the dark warehouses, the driver pulls out another musket hidden behind his seat.

The remaining men observe as half their group go down one of the paths in between the stacks, a lantern in one of the men's hands cutting through the darkness. All of them stay alert, using every sense they have as the two come back with a crate each in their arms with the wooden lid painted blue, shoving them onto the cart.

As the minutes slowly drag on as the men load the carriage crate by crate, the guards slowly relax, "Oi. Do y'know what's been happening bossman? I've heard that a bunch of our guys are getting hit around the east but nothing else. Are we gonna be fighting soon?" The coachman asks the other beside him in a whisper, looking relaxed as he can be, but his shifty hands and sharp eyes denote otherwise.

The man beside him gives him a short glare at his words, "No, just some… unsuccessful business. Now quiet," he orders, which the man complies with a grumble.

Smash

Both jump at the sound, the coachman fumbling as he turns and points his gun at the now darkened corridor where they heard the sound, the final man in their group pointing his own weapon from the back of the cart.

"You dumbass! How the fuck did you drop it!? And on the lantern too!?" They hear Cam roar in anger before-

Smack

The sound of flesh striking flesh rings out along with a yelp of pain.

"I'm-I'm sorry! I swear it was an accident!" One of the help pleads fearfully.

"I don't give-!"

Thump

They barely get to register the accident before two screams cut through the brief silence.

"Cam! CAM!" Their boss yells out as they tighten the grips on their weapons and their two muscle run out from the corridor screaming. What does get their attention is the small splatter of blood across their pale faces.

Over their shoulder, he notices something move, 'What's tha-' the arrow pierces his eye socket, snapping his head back as he slumps over onto his boss.

The man himself yelps at the sudden weight falling onto him and barely shoves the body to the side before he falls and pales at the arrow sunk into his man's head, blood pooling around him in the carriage.

Thump

Snapping his head to the back, he just barely catches his last man's body topple to the ground behind the cart and out of view, the two workers they brought running towards the doors as they keep screaming.

Feeling a shiver crawling up his body, he follows his gut and throws himself off the seat, just catching sight of an arrow that molds itself to the darkness as it briefly passes over him disappears back into the darkness with a -thunk-.

He huffs a shaky breath as he gets off the stone floor and pushes his back against the cart for cover. Feeling blood drip down on his shoulder, he turns where the body of his coachman lies in the cart and notices the barrel of his musket peaking from beneath him.

With a grunt he slides the weapon free from the body, albeit with blood layering it from being dragged through the puddle forming. He can feel his hands get clammy as he shuts his eyes and prays, the first time since he was a child in one of the Church's orphanages.

Creak

Looking over to the side he can see that the two workers put their energy from screaming into strength, shoving one of the doors they came from open and running for their lives.

'Come on come on, you can do it. You can do it! So move!'

With renewed vigor, he propels himself from his cover and sprints to the moonlit entrance of the building. Each stride bringing him nearer to the door, one foot following the other.

Thump

A spike of pressure slams into the back of his head, forcing the strength to leave his body as black quickly encroaches his vision.

.

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.

.

.

'This is new.' His fingers sift through the handful of pills, letting it fall back into the cloth bag filled with more of the same pills. Tightening the bag once more, he tosses it back into the crate the thugs were trying to transport, the blue lidded crate itself filled to the brim with dozens of pouches containing the same drug.

The rest of the crates in the cart are opened as well, filled with contraband that would be quite devastating to one's health if caught by the military. Ignoring the other, useless, smuggled items, he grabs a small barrel he found in the warehouse and pops the cork. Tilting it, he lets the gunpowder pour as he covers the cart in it, making sure to get enough on the bodies laying side by side with even more powder and kindling, especially the most recent corpse with his limb tied and his throat slit.

Emptying the barrel, he throws it onto the cart as well and brings out a flint rod and his knife. Rubbing his blade against the rod, sparks fly out from the metal and immediately ignites the black powder, quickly spreading with small pops across the cart.

Walking over to Lowry, Eirlet makes sure that his ODM gear is safely attached and hidden from view before mounting his steed, taking a moment to make sure the evidence is up in a bonfire before galloping away from the clearing he found a bit away from the village.

'Oh, that's strong.' He feels himself get lightheaded as the fire catches and the fumes from the drugs spread.

Thankfully it quickly goes away as he gets farther from the flames, soon it being just a pillar of black smoke in the distance.

'So, Rico's trying to cut his losses here and head back West. I can't let him go, if he gets there and I'm still on him I'll be hounded by everyone the Umbrella has, especially after what happened a few months ago.' His blood briefly runs hot as he thinks about the debacle and knowing that it was likely the main reason why Bart decided that bringing so many men with him was a good idea.

'Bastard and his brother wanted to kiss someone's ass badly,' Shaking his head, he steers back to his main problem,'Now, can't hit him on his way 'cause he's hitching himself to a military convoy resupplying western garrisons. Too hot.'

He muses over the information he was able to get from his amateur, yet effective, interrogation, 'Only thing I can do is get him before he leaves in two days, but first, I need to find his hiding hole in Stohess.'

Knowing just where to go, Eirlet steers Lowry onto the trail, sufficiently far from the fire. It takes but a few hours to reach the district and head down into its underbelly. Compared to a couple months ago where the unfinished city was rife with violence, now its nearly back to how it was beforehand, the more important buildings pristine once more and those without enough funds having makeshift repairs on their storefronts or homes.

The crowd itself is lively once more, the people unable to stay away from the city of sin for long and are back to spending their ill-gotten money on gambling, alcohol, and women -some men as well.

He follows a familiar path away from away from the bustle of Main Street, but an itch on the back of his head has him peeking over his shoulder, his eyes not catching anyone out of the crowd. Reaching the building where Sherbolt's still based, he notices how much its improved.

Where before the building looked alright, its wear and shoddy construction still showed through, no matter how much Sherbolt tried to change it. But now the wooden walls are replaced with brick, high quality windows replacing the previous grimy glass, and a constant presence of professional looking guards completing the ensemble.

Before where each wore whatever clothes they had lying around, now there's uniform armour, similar to his leather, but covering nearly every part of their body as they don't need to be as agile, but needing more straightforward protection. Along with that, each hold modern MP muskets, ones created after the Fall, with bayonets attached to the ends.

His eyes land on a familiar duo ordering a heap of men to the side as they unload crates, and the two notice him as well. Approaching Lok and Kores, the two dismiss the men to their work and turn to him as well, Kores eyeing him and his massive steed with a raised eyebrow and Lok with a frown.

"Brat," the latter greets, "Sherbolt wants to talk to you. Immediately."

Eirlet's eyes narrow on them at the order, Kores doesn't give anything away beyond a shrug and Lok's frown takes a touch of annoyance.

Brushing past the two, he heads into the building, feeling the eyes of both trained on his back. Walking past the renovated halls and wealthier decorations in place, he quickly reaches a familiar office and knocks before being called in.

"Ah Eirlet! It is a welcome to see you once again after so long!" Sherbolt greets with a slight cheer as he sits behind his desk, looking the same as he did the last he saw him beyond a few strands of grey peppering his slicked hair.

The smile on his face wanes as he takes in Eirlet's disheveled appearance, standing he grabs a bottle of liquor on a table to the side, pouring the likely high-quality alcohol in two tumblers, "I heard of the incident, you have my sympathies for your loss." Turning, the man sighs at the slight nod that he's given, the young teen's face carefully blank underneath the dirt.

Sitting back down with a grunt, he places one glass in front of a chair by his desk, the other raising to his lips.

Thwip

Lowering the glass, he looks at the letter thrown on his paper and along with it, a bloody ring. Eirlet gives him time to inspect the ring, uncaring of the dried blood flaking off as he inspects the etching on it, recognition flashing across his face.

He watches as Sherbolt slowly purses through the letter, setting it down, he interlocks his fingers and rests his chin on them, meeting his gaze with a thoughtful look.

"So, I assume you wish for information about Rico? Because there is no other reason why you would come here other than possibly supplies."

He gives a simple nod in response, something that Sherbolt doesn't follow up on as he stays silent. The two don't shift as time passes, Sherbolt staring with something that Eirlet can't quite make out passing through his eyes, himself reciprocating as he keeps his face blank.

"Unfortunately," He starts off slowly, but that one word is enough for Eirlet to rise, however Sherbolt's raised hand stalls him in his tracks, "I do not posses something that would be directly beneficial to you. But I do have something else if you would care to hear?" He asks with a look.

Grudgingly, he lowers himself back to his seat, gaining a satisfied nod from his employer, "Good, now I have information on Rico's operation, not as extensive as I prefer but he keeps a tight grip on those on his payroll, enough so that he is moderately trusted by most organizations as a reliable carrier service. However, in light of… this," he gestures at the letter and ring, "It seems he has declared a stance, something that you experienced, and something that blows back onto me and my various… allies at the moment. Typically, I would have Gavec take care of this, but he's currently dealing with a delicate affair."

He grabs his glass once more and takes a sip, "With this though, comes information from external sources, one of which is the location of a Matthias, an ex-Garrison turned smuggler for Rico, the typical muscle that everyone needs. What makes this one special though, is that he is slated to join the convoy Rico plans to attach himself to. To do so on schedule, he will eventually need to make it to where they are keeping their illicit cargo, and likely Rico." That gets him to perk up.

"It will be a narrow window to do your part, but I trust in your capabilities that you will finish what you aim to achieve."

Laid out to him, Eirlet knows that the information is good, but he knows what's expected from him in return, "Before I disclose his location, I would appreciate it if you could possibly save any maps of routes and warehouses he has before you burn everything down around yourself." Exactly as expected.

He barely gives it a thought before nodding in agreement, something like that is easily doable before he gets his hands wrapped around Rico's neck.

"Good. The last I know from my man on the street was that he was entering the Pit. With tonight essentially hosting the largest fight of the year as several Bloodbath champions are participating, along with the current champion the city is going to be alive. Our man will let loose, indulging himself in everything the city has to offer as a final farewell. This grants you an edge, both tonight and the following morning due to his likely inebriated state." Raising his glass, he knocks back the remaining liquor, setting it down with a resounding thud. Standing, he turns his back to Eirlet, gazing out the window to the festive street just a few blocks away.

"He is not expecting anyone to know of his occupation, Rico made sure of that… well, nearly." Although he can't see him, Eirlet knows the man has a smirk on his face.

"If you leave now, you will likely reach the arena in time for the fight, plenty of time to search for my man and lay your eyes on the target."

Knowing the dismissal for what it is, Eirlet rises and exits without a sound, the door quietly shutting behind him.

He passes the guards stationed at the door, paying no mind to the bustling of those moving through the corridor, heading back to the front of the building where he left Lowry leashed, his steed that's getting fed a carrot by a content-looking Lok, at least compared to his usual demeanour.

Approaching the par, the man whispers to the beast while petting his mane, the steed raising his head as Eirlet draws near. Putting some weight behind his steps, Lok now hears his approach and turns around, a frown back on his face as he withdraws his hand away from Lowry.

"Had him watered and fed. Though you should let him rest, he's sturdy, but not invincible."

Eirlet pauses at his words, taking note of his companion's stiff muscles and joints swelled larger than normal. Letting go of the rein he grabbed to get on, he rubs a hand down Lowry's neck, scratching a spot that he knows the steed enjoys as he lowers his head down to him. Giving him a last pat, he notices the hand Lok extended.

Looking up, he meets the man's gaze, "I'll take him for ya', at least until you finish what you got going."

He studies the man and his hand for a moment before reluctantly handing over the reins. Moving to his pack on the saddle, he shoulders his bundled weapons. Unfortunately, he needs to leave his ODM gear and the sword he took from one of the corpses due to how cumbersome it would be to carry hiddenly.

Giving one last look to Lok, he turns and starts walking, heading to the busy crowd ahead, all flowing in a singular direction.

"Kores is out patrolling brat, give him a holler if you need anything."

Eirlet pauses his step as he hears what Lok says, taking a peek over his shoulder, the man's already turned, guiding his steed to the stable.

Taking a deep breath, Eirlet turns back and continues his walk, seamlessly merging with the lively throng of people as he makes his way to one of the largest events of the year.


AN:

I don't think I've mentioned it, but the swords used by most are similar in style to the ones from the Before the Fall manga, though all we've seen so far is made with normal steel and not Iron Bamboo like it was in the manga due to its rarity.