Port Lorrel- Prison Break

[Alberich]

Jack grinned and put the money away without bothering to count it. There'd be time enough for that anyway, on top of which, it really wasn't what he cared about. They were acting like just a higher-powered (and richer) version of the usual "militia" bandit herds that wasted their stupid short lives jockeying for power in Farrell, in the hopes of making them even shorter. At birth, he thought, every one of them should be issued a spade to get to work on his own grave. There'd be as much point to it as to anything else they did.

Regardless, he had a mask to wear:

"I like that. Especially the part where the people who help you get paid right along as they do things, and don't have to wait 'til you're all in the saddle. Makes people want to keep working! In fact, if you've got room for more - I've got an assistant who's pretty sharp in the same line. I think you met her briefly in the other place." Myra might not have his level of artistry, but if Gabriel had seen her in the fight, he'd know she was tough and brazen enough for whatever dirty work they had in mind. "With us two working together - we can liven up your reading material something fierce."

[Jack Rothwell]

"The aggressive bitch who was with the bandits?" Gabriel earned a look of frank surprise from Eli by letting out an uncharacteristic laugh. "She had spirit enough, surviving that hamfisted battle with the wardens is worthy of an opportunity I think."

"Bandits?" The half-elf said. "Fucking carrion eaters! A woman like that would stab you in the back the first chance she gets."

"She's welcome to try."

Eli stared at his companion for a moment, then leaned forward and eyed Jack squarely.

"If we bring her into this, then she's your responsibility. If she decides to try slitting my throat, you'll be the first person I come looking for after I finish wiping her off my boots. Clear enough?"

OOC I can move this to Logan's after your next post bud. Jack's free to tag along./OOC

[Alberich]

Jack answered that with a fierce grin. He had his own ideas about whose guts were going to be stomped in by whose boots, when the time was right, though it wouldn't do to mention that fact. "She's a professional like me," he said. "Slitting the paymaster's throat is bad for business! But I'm glad to answer for her professionalism in this." He was ready to proceed to the next step.

[Jack Rothwell]

"Pretty grim for a trade organisation." Eli remarked, as the trio rounded the corner to bring Logan's establishment into view.

The building was five floors high and humourless. The stony walls encased dozens of traders, accountants and enough ex-soldiers to form a personal regiment. Not surprising, given their employer's former profession.

Gabriel had met Logan back when they'd both been military men, although the nature of that relationship had been a brief tour under the older man's command prior to Logan's retirement in the service. He was high-born, entering at officer class following a furious education from the finest military minds his father’s gold could buy. After some twenty years in the service he’d turned his impressive mind to the trade community and enjoyed considerable success, he was now the owner of one of the biggest trade organisations the Port had to offer. The sole owner, given the extended vacation or his former partners following the recent building of a trading post a few miles west of town. The vain bastard had even named the place after himself.

'Vain, but hard...' The mercenary remembered. '...even advancing toward old age.'

The trip to get to the financial district had been, fortunately, uneventful. Although the half-elf had been ill at ease with the presense of the bandit-promoting theif and had made no effort to hide it. His reluctance to trust people had been strong enough before being attacked by his former colleagues, now, the half-elf viewed everyone he met as a potential backstabber. Eli gave Jack as sidelong frown as the three approached the back entrance to the building, and the two men guarding it stepped forward to meet them. One held up his palm.

"No entry."

"I have a message for your employer."

"Take it 'round front."

"His friend from the South has a request." Gabriel intoned each word deliberately, as if he were trying to hammer them into the guard's ears with his voice. The man froze as he opened his mouth to make another dismissive comment, and looked back at his partner. The second man gave the trio an assessing look and made for the door.

"A word to the wise." Gabriel muttered, leaning in Eli's direction. "Rumour has it Logan's hired a lot of gewehr's over the years. And he severs business relationships so fast that people lose fingers, understand?"

"Ruthless bastard. Right. Got it."

"He owes Aleron for a recent acquisition, so getting a place to set up should..." He emphasized the last word strongly. "... go smoothly." He turned to Jack. "We've got a few minutes, any questions before we meet with the money?"

[Alberich]

Jack grinned like someone who enjoyed meeting "money," though in truth it'd be hard for him to care less. "I gather I'd do better to stay quiet in there, and assume there's Gewehr watching. But I still don't know whose side this Logan's on - if he's got one - or if there's anything I should be watching for."

In fact, he really wanted to know who this "Aleron" was, and a lot more about the organization he was working for. But the questions seemed indiscreet until he'd carried out a mission or two. Ask questions and people got the idea you wanted to find things out. The role he was playing - of someone who didn't much care who the boss was as long as he paid - might perversely be a better vehicle for learning anyway.

[OOC: May be vanishing for a day or three, but I hope not. Supposed to be fully recovered by the end of the month. Do what you have to to keep the story going.]

[Jack Rothwell]

"Logan's only got one side." Gabriel replied. "His own. Make no threatening moves and we'll be fine. You'll get a measure of the man soon enough."

The route to Logan's office was definately off the beaten track of the main business areas of the building. It was a rigid set of paranoid, narrow stairways and disused looking doors that led to a badly lit corridor.

"Dead end?" Eli murmured.

"No."

One of the guardman pressed the flat of his hand against a section of the wall and pushed forward, there was a clicking noise as the segment moved backwards, it then slid sideways into a thin rut, revealing the broad and expensively decorated room beyond. The far wall was framed by a large oaken desk bedecked with ivory carvings, sat on the high-backed chair behind it was a tall, broad shouldered man. He was approaching old age and sporting a gut, but his frame was telling of a fair amount of muscle underneath. He didn't look up as his visitors arrived, his attention instead remained focused on an official-looking document in his hand.

"Lucas-Amadeus Logan." Gabriel supplied to his companions as they were escorted towards the man. Behind them, the disguised door clicked back into place.

They were led to the chairs (nowhere near as grandiose as the one that faced them) by the guards and sat down. After a moment of silence the older man clapped the paper on the desk and looked up at the men, sparing most of his stare for Gabriel.

"I heard about the riot last night, Captain. Are you aware that the militia are still looking for you?" The man's voice was deep and cultured; an easy one to imagine giving orders to people.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you can tell me what possessed you to come knocking on my door when armed men are patrolling my city?"

'My city...' Gabriel thought. '...he's becoming a tyrant, alright.'

"Aleron will protect me in that regard, sir. He requests a favour to aid in that enterprize."

"A smarter man would be fourty miles away on horseback, Mr Averis." Logan replied dismissively. "Why should I risk my reputation by offering help to a wanted criminal?"

"Consider the last help you were given by my benefactor." Gabriel replied flatly. "The sudden disappearance of that small-time trader a few months ago, Rivaldi, was it?"

"You'd have to ask someone on the lower floors." Logan's voice was entirely neutral, he might've been discussing the weather. "My attention is needed on more important matters."

"Still, I imagine it might've been an aggrivation if he'd followed through on his plan to undercut the cloth trade at your highway town. Word has it his caravan was torn apart by wild animals, wolves, people say."

Eli stifled a smirk.

"There are always risks involved in travelling."

"...but things can be much more dangerous if we don't fulfill our responsibilities first." There was no doubt of the implication behind the ex-Captain's words, but the older man met his gaze steadily. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hand across his waist.

"What do you want, soldier?"

"Just a roof over our heads, Mr Logan, something roomy perhaps, and with places to store a few things?"

After a long moment of decidedly tense silence, the businessman made a reply.

"I trust your employer will be a helpful neighbour?"

"Aleron wishes nothing but your continued success, sir."

"I'm glad we understand each other." The older man nodded to one of his men, drew him close and murmured a word into his ear. The man left, and returned a minute later with something jiggling in his hand.

"Weatherby owns a manor in the richer part of the waterfront district." Logan said, and his man handed the Captain a set of keys. "He will have no objection to you using it. It's by Yurlang pier, on Bertrand road."

"Any word from your former coleague?" The question was, perhaps, bordering a little on mockery, but Gabriel felt the occasion warranted it.

"None in nine months. The last time I saw Weatherby I wished him well in his endevours."

"It's always best to be polite." The militiaman agreed.

"Indeed, Mr Averis. Tell your employer I'll be keeping in touch." Logan stood as he spoke. The mercenaries, taking the cue, mirrored the gesture and took their leave.


OOC Good luck Al!/OOC

[Alberich]

So, from the look of things, Aleron's boys were negotiating for a hybrid safe house/warehouse, and made their bloody endeavors look like a glorified smuggling op. Oh, that would be so typical of these herd-wolves...killing and threatening each other over things that wouldn't make a damn the day after tomorrow. But Jack remembered Gabriel's belly spitting out those bullets and, unusually for him, reserved a small part of his judgment. There was something so wrong about practicing on that level just to get into the game with these bandit-mercenary Farrell-gaggles. Then again, with errants involved, you could never assume too much rationality.

Anyway, whatever they were, the real point was to get inside them (err, their organization, he meant), see who was behind it, and especially if there were more like Eli. And the simplest way was to keep playing along as if he fit in with this bunch, and would really fight and spy for pathetic money.

He decided not to make any overt comments unless challenged - Gabriel and Eli didn't seem to respect this Logan any more than he did, and what purpose would be served by saying so?

[Jack Rothwell]

"That went better than I expected." The half-elf commented as they fell into a walk, the three of them making a sharp turn down a narrow street in the direction of the waterfront.

"The manor was no skin off his nose."Gabriel replied. "It didn't legally belong to him, as much as that matters in this town. Even if it did, the man's got his fingers into everything from cloth, to grain, to private mercenaries for hire, one residence is a puddle in his financial ocean."

"Too bad that one favor is going to cost him everything."

"No good deed goes unpunished." Gabriel smiled and turned to the new recruit. "Jack, a question, if you could take anything you wanted, what would it be?"

[Alberich]

"All of it!" said Jack with a grin. "Whatever there was. Especially if it was a challenge. Just to be the man who took it! How about you?"

[Jack Rothwell]

"I'd take the Port, for starters." Gabriel replied. "The rest of the world can wait for the moment."

"I'd take the lives of a few elves..." Eli muttered, barely loud enough to hear. "...then the Eisen-fucks who murdered my uncle."

The waterfront district came into view with the sharp tang of salt in the air. Vessels of all shapes and sizes peppered the stretch of town leading to the sea beyond. The crowds were thinning out as the day wound down, but ships continuing docking, crates were still being unloaded and deals were negotiated as the three men passed by. The half-elf dimly registered a humanoid vaguely resembling the kobold who had briefly accompanied his old group half-hidden in the dark of a cage, mewling as a pair of men exchanged a sizable bag of coin.

"Cages... everywhere I go, cages..."

A whisper of an idea began forming in the back of the half-elf's mind.

"Yarlang pier." Gabriel gestured at the approaching destination.

It was definitely part of the richer part of the district as business owner had said. A pair of large merchant vessels floated proudly nearby, their intricately decorated sails and ornate carvings a testament to the prestige of their owners.

Bertrand street was a only a right turn away, it was a long street on an upward incline that framed the house beautifully at it's end. Eli stopped short as they approached the gates that led to the manor beyond, his breath caught in his throat.

"I think Logan might like us more than he let on." He laughed delightedly for the first time in Gods-knew-how-long.

Weatherby's manor was impressive to say the least, beyond the iron gates was a short path that led a to three-floor building both practically designed and pleasing to the eye. Eli loved it immediately, the pillars which framed the double doors of the entrance, the narrow but numerous windows which cast light into the dusty rooms beyond. The layered tiles a burnt orange colour that contrasted with the clean white of the walls.

"That's a hell of a step up from an old temple in the middle of nowhere." He said distantly.

Gabriel fumbled in his pocket for the keys the business owner had given him.