RP:A Failed Bounty Theft
Cenril
Muraski was in a different form of wear for a change, something he hadn't adorned in quite a long time. The old uniform of his days in the Cenrilli military seemed to still fit somehow. A helmet of course, covered his head so none could see his face and he might seem a little more disguised. On top of all this, he was flung over Bresk's shoulder, seemingly limp, and dead, as if the minotaur had managed to kill the merchant. They were on their way to meet with one of the many brokers of the gang lords, to collect the bounty for killing a 'guard', so that they might actively collect one of the leader's more important, people within his ranks. Information was what the merchant wanted, information was what he hoped to acquire and with the trick of today, he figured things might go over without a hitch. From his pant leg, an easily missed, brown powder, with a pungent scent leaked out. The smell for his own group to follow, their distance only three or four minutes behind.
Emerald eyes gleam as they follow the minotaur and his burden, watching from the vantage point of Cenril's rooftops, where the deft paws of a feline rarely falter. Kuneera, a young--and considerably foolhardy--thief, spotted the bull only moments ago by pure happenstance, having been on her way back from her daily marketplace prowling when he'd trudged by, weighed down by a guard's corpse. While this street-born feline has no reading skills, word travels quickly on the streets, and she's well aware of the price the upper gangs are offering for dead guards. A deep-seated hatred for the officers of Cenril, coupled with a desire to build her and her tiny gang's reputation, makes this too delicious an opportunity to pass up. And so Kuneera continues to follow the minotaur, hoping his path with remain steady and bring him right by the run down, rat-infested loft the Quick Paw gang--hardly deserving of the title--call home. Confident this feline might be, but even she knows better than to jump a minotaur alone. Not when he could break her in two with a single blow. No, she'll bide her time a few moments longer, in hopes she can wrangle a few of her group to assist her.
Muraski spoke to Bresk in hushed tones as they walked, the entire distance from the beach to the entrance, back to the old shop, so that they could set up the whole thing properly. The biggest nuisance was the back allies on top of all this, they'd been going for so long at this point, constantly turning and twisting to avoid the guards and whatever else might come along their way. Finally they stopped, Bresk to lean against the wall of the alley and set Muraski down on the ground. He knelt down, stuffing the pant leg with some more dirt before picking the man back up, setting him on his shoulder, and once more, they'd begin their treck.
Oh luck is on this cat's side today! Of all the places for her target to take a break, he chooses the wall of the building neighboring the gang's abode. Without delay, Kuneera scurries off the roof, down the wall, and into the dilapidated structure she calls home. ...And only a pair of scrawny felines hardly past their first decade are present to greet her, watery eyes wide and eager in hopes of food. So much for a lucky day. Biting back a growl of frustration, Kuneera hastily recruits the youngsters' aid with promises of a meal and rise in ranks within the gang, if they can assist her. Although she holds no hope of them being able to stop a minotaur, perhaps they'll have some value as distractions and meat shields. The taller of the pair--by a whopping inch and a half--scrambles to retrieve is weapon: a worn length of wood crudely shaped into a club. While he eagerly hurries to stand at Kuneera's side, the second arms himself with something a tad more useful: a garrotte and a pair of daggers that, while not perfectly keen, are sharpened enough to serve their purpose. Which is, to deliver the debilitating, viridian poison coated on their edges. The same sickly green color can be seen rubbed into the wire before it's pocketed. Smaller this kitten might be, but he possesses a wit and shrewdness his companion lacks, and he's well aware his small size is a danger that can only be countered with the use of ill-gotten toxins and rusty, filthy blades. "We're ready," the inept one of the pair--Kuneera is fairly certain his name is Mathias--declares, brandishing his weapon. The poisoner remains silent, and for the life of her Kuneera cannot remember his name. But she will remember to keep on eye on him. He'll be dangerous when he grows up. ...if he survives this, that is. And so, with the most undesirable duo as her helpers, the red-furred feline hurries from the headquarters and guides them back to the rooftops just in time to catch the minotaur lumbering off down the alley and around a corner. "Hurry, you, and -be quiet-."
Muraski kept the small amount of powder constantly leaking from them, the terrible scent still reaking from the two as their trek seemingly came to a halt at a dead end. Muraski spoke finally towards the minotaur, "Thought you knew the way, Bresk." His voice quite, hardly having to speak at all with the minotaur so close. The man gave a simple nod, "Way got changed, we'll have to go around..Or through?" That made the large minotaur grin, at the thought of plowing down a flimsy wall in the slums to get to their destination. He raised his free arm, gave the wall a knock and when he felt it seemed solid turned around, heading for the exit. "New paths, Muraski?" The merchant thought it through, his head propped up briefly as Bresk 'adjusted' Muraski to a more comfortable spot so the man could see. Once he was able to take a look, without actually moving his head, he tapped Bresk's right leg with a slight bump of his knee, "Got it." And they were ready to move again.
Kuneera couldn't have planned it better if she tried. But, if anyone asks afterwards, she'll claim she masterminded the entire thing. After all, it's rarely by chance that your target stumbles into a dead end. She can easily spin this to her favor when she's congratulated later for her amazing victory. Counting her chickens before they've hatched, and grinning madly for it, the feline nods to Mathias and the silent kitten, ordering them to take a rooftop on either side of the alley and to move forward with the intentions of flanking the minotaur. When Bresk turns around, he's greeted by a shout and a fist-sized rock chucked at his head--although Mathias' aim isn't the best. "Oi! Lambchops! Ye brought us a present, eh?" The venom-loving feline throws Mathias a withering look then, but refrains from correcting him on calling a bovine creature a 'lamb'. Instead, he keeps his mind on the task at hand, which consists of using the nearby gutter to slip silent down into the alley on Bresk's right side, slightly behind the hopefully distracted minotaur. While he isn't thrilled about being on the ground with a minotaur so close, such is the cost of using his preferred weapons, and so he darts in as swiftly as his small, unshod feet can to jab at the back of Bresk's right knee with one dagger while the other lashes out at the bull's left inner thigh. If the poison finds bloodstream, it will begins to numb muscles, starting from the point of the wound and spread from there as it's carried along. Kuneera uses these moments to prepare herself and her own weapons--a set of throwing knives and a handful of acupuncture needles recently stolen from a healer's stall. A fierce grip is made on the first of the knives, prepared and waiting for the right moment. While the needles are tucked into the crevices between each finger on her left hand, the peculiar weapons not effected by her compromised grip from said fingers lacking their first knuckles. The scarred fingers twitch with phantom pain in that moment she stares at the minotaur and his dead guard, remembering the injuries wrought on the digits by one such guard that had caught her stealing. This man's death--possibly the same pain that took the ends of her fingers--will pay her way into the folds of the city's upper gangs. She'll see to that.
Muraski :: The rock impacted right away, the minotaur to drop the merchant onto the ground with a definitive plop and Muraski to grumble out loud, "Damnit, Bresk." As the poisoner moved his way, Bresk focused on the one who threw the rock, unaware of the slippery feline while slinked in unnoticed. With the brandished weapon in hand, a sword of larger size then any human might hold, he charged forward to swing. Suddenly, a sharp pain was felt in the back of his knee and the minotaur stumbled forward, clumsily, like an angered drunk. The merchant got to his feet finally, having taken a few seconds to recover from all of the recent actions and finally the crossbow was upholstered and ready to take aim. The first round flew for the one who shot his poisons, though the shot was aimed for the shoulder, not to kill. Bresk in the meantime, simply swung his sword around him, trying to ward everyone away, dazed from the rock, and starting to feel the effects of the poison as his legs didn't want to support his weight as easily.
Luck has very quickly soured for Kuneera and her tiny gang. Not even the coolly calculating little poisoner could have predicted the dead guard was, in fact, alive. And armed. The feline is given all of a second to blink in bewildered horror before he's sent flying by the force of the crossbow bolt, his short flight ended when he collides with the narrow alley's brick wall. His small form crumples as it hits the ground, being too little and frail to get up from such a wound and thus left to bleed in the dirt. A few pitiful whimpers come from him, audible reminders that he is in truth still a child, for all his cunning air. Mathias, still up on the roof, doesn't even seem to notice his friend's predicament as he bounces from foot to foot, tongue stuck out at the raging Bresk below. He even calls a few taunts, "Nya-nya-nya~. Can't get me~, porkchop~!" While the rambunctious member of the group heckles the minotaur, Kuneera focuses on the guard that should be dead. Anger blazes in emerald eyes as she slowly rises from her crouch, arm arched back in preparation before it's whipped forward and fingers spread to realize the quintet of needles in a jagged barrage at Muraski. Lacking the skills of a master and thus unable to aim for joints to render him incapacitated, Kuneera at least has enough ability to take a fair shot at embedding them in the merchant's upper chest and neck. Ten inches long each, they hold the potential to drive in deep if they can find a chink in the armor. And, hit or miss with them, Kuneera's knives aren't far behind the first throw and following the same path, as the feline is hellbent by returning this Cenril guard to true death.
Muraski and Bresk were rather aggravated to be stopped by amateurs of all things, foolish youngins to the world of crime that had hardly been around long. The merchant had just begun to relish in his first victory, as he started to reload his crossbow when the needles began to piece into his body arm, then into the flesh below. Tiny little pin like holes, followed by a loud thud, then another, and finally he fell backwards as if dead as the knives each met their marks. The man had taken little effort to dodge or evade the weaponry having already been dead to present him quite the advantage in this. Muraski remained in his state of inactivity for a few moments, hoping their attention to return to Bresk before he reloaded his crossbow for the other. The minotaur was fed up with the man on the roof, his back to be forced against the wall, weapon raised, then thrown upwards for the taunting cat. Muraski finally rose once more, the shot aimed at the unfortunate leader's leg so that none would escape.
Mathias' taunts end rather abruptly. Never the brightest cat in the litter, he couldn't resist the urge to lean over the roof's edge when Bresk had pressed himself to the wall, and for this effort, the feline finds a throw sword plunged through his torso and damn near cleaving his small form in two. Brain always two steps behind his body, he doesn't immediately die, but instead gurgles out a wet, "Ow." With that he falls headfirst into the alley, properly dead before he hits the ground. This, coupled with Muraski's apparent return to death, results in Kuneera's attention being elsewhere. As the merchant has hoped, he has an easy and oblivious target just waiting for him. In that instant, the young feline knows pain once more. Not the raw, flat pain that came when her fingertips were cut off, but throbbing, stabbing agony as blood blossoms from her left thigh where a bolt as sprouted. Dropping to her good knee then, Kuneera's form slips down the roof's slick side a moment before she recovers herself and, with a considerable amount of effort, begins dragging her crippled form up and over the tiled peak--out of crossbow range and out of sight. Her only focus now is to flee as fast as her injured leg will allow. No concern is wasted for her wounded companion or grief spared for the dead Mathias. Only escape. Escape and survive.
Satoshi's cats get their butts handed to them hardcore.
Muraski looked with disdain as the young feline was torn apart by the sword, along with the fall, yet he could waste little time. The merchant chased after the other feline, the recently hit one, as he couldn't allow her escape, no one could know of their plan.. Even if it meant doing unsavory things so that she might be unable to speak. His feet moved quickly after the injured one, needles and knives pulled out of his chest as he ran after her. Shouldn't be long before he caught her. With Muraski in chase after the one, Bresk was left leaning upon the wall, attempting to remain on his two feet without falling over from the poison.
The incapacitated--but far from dead--poisoner remains where he is, not willing to chance his survival on the charity of this minotaur. Especially since this is the minotaur he poisoned seconds ago. Instead, he feigns death or a slow dying, in hopes he will be left here for the rats while they focus on capturing his wayward 'leader'. Kuneera can't quite play dead herself, and she's leaving a remarkable trail of blood for Muraski to follow, but the feline isn't completely out of tricks despite it all. No. Relying on her quick wits and familiarity with this territory, she weaves a winding path through the maze of alleyways until she reaches a dead end similar to the one she used to ambush Muraski. And an ambush is exactly what she has planned. Painfully forcing more blood from her wound--lip bitten almost clean through to avoid screaming at the dizzying agony--she splashes the crimson liquid to the very end of the alley and up the wall before taking cover behind a tower of crates midway down the path. Here she will lurk, to wait until her pursuer arrives, moves past her to investigate what appears to be her having scaled a sheer wall, she'll strike. First will come a rain of heavy crates upon him, followed shortly by the wounded feline and a pair of knives wildly slashed at any exposed flesh. It will cost most of her remaining strength, but Kuneera is a stubborn cat and won't go down without a fight. Not to a guard of Cenril.
Muraski followed the trail to where Kuneera had splashed her blood upon the wall. The investigation was quick, a sniff of the air, the sense of blood strong but his reactions not fast enough for as he turned to face the general direction of the freshest blood, crates tumbled down upon him. The man was buried underneath the heavy boxes, with his chest being pinned and limbs unable to move easily he had let the small cat once more get the jump on him. As the knife bore down upon him, slash after slash, cutting up armor and clothes a sudden save might have happened. The guards finally seemed to come, the trail of specialized dirt to be followed and the blow of a heavy staff to be aimed for the back of her head, not enough to kill but hopefully send her unconscious. Behind him was Bresk, one more guard holding him up, and the other small feline, (Had he not put up a fight), on top of the man's free shoulder and carried.
Her moment of triumph at pinning the guard comes to a sudden end with a sharp pain at the back of her skull. Vision flickers and the feline sways until, with a weak hiss, she collapses in a bloody heap. The smaller of the felines remains limp and bleeding where he's been slung over a shoulder for, while he does not relish the idea of being taken prisoner, if they didn't go to the effort of killing him where he lay, then they have no intention of killing him right away, either. Yes, torture may be in store for him when they get to where they're going, but that will take time, and time can be used to think. There is nothing this young feline does better than think, for while Kuneera fancied herself a mastermind a short time ago, Simone--for that is the name of this little poisoner--is the one worthy of the title.
Muraski moved about underneath the crates until finally he got himself loose from their weight and arose once more from the wreckage. He stared upon their two prisoners, agitated, annoyed, that they ruined the plan for today, maybe tomorrow, or a week. Finally, he broke his gaze and gave Bresk a look, "Alright?" The minotaur simply nodded but it was evident at this point that the man was having issues moving, seemingly weaker every moment. Muraski pulled free the weapon upon his belt, "You two can live, I'll even make you supper if you give me the antidote and quit crime, for good." He looked down at her fingers, "Specially since you don't make a good thief." Insult to injury, always in good taste.
Blurred vision comes into vague focus as Kuneera peers up at Muraski from where she kneels. In response to his insult, she spits at his feet, the saliva mixed with blood from where she's bitten the inside of her cheek after being clubbed over the head. Muraski would have had a perfectly compliant feline if only he hadn't chosen to insult her. Kuneera's cattish pride tends to devour all form of sense and reason, and it's earned her scars aplenty for it. Simone, however, is not so senseless. Despite being slung like a sack of potatoes over a shoulder, the young feline's voice is a cool, business-like drawl when he speaks, "You waste your time on that one, unfortunately. She will not work with you, for stubborn pride. I am not so foolish. You seem like a reasonable man, willing to make offers of peace when not required. If you mend this wound you have graced me with, I will concoct the antidote you seek." A slow smile creeps across the feline's face, an expression profoundly older than his meager years. Despite his appearance, Simone carries the air of a smooth, learned member of the underworld, well versed in the dangers and requirements of making deals with your potential murderers. "Don't worry, your stout companion will not drop dead in the imminent future. There is time to set him right, I assure you."
Muraski sighed as the female began her stubborn routine, thoughts of torture coming to mind and just as he was about to state the vast ways she'd have to suffer the other spoke. His head turned swiftly to face the recently thought unconscious one, "It's a fair trade." He gave a nod then signaled for Simone to be set on the ground. "Give me a name." He waited for Simone to answer then began to walk for his old shop, a stop in to patch Bresk up was needed and he didn't think the feline was dumb enough to run.
Kuneera blinks owlishly as she glances between Muraski and Simone, trying to follow the conversation as well as remember when was the last time she heard the cat speak. Never, she's fairly certain. Hell, she couldn't even recall his name. Or when he had become a part of the gang. ...who -is- this little feline? As if hearing her thoughts, the poison-lover turns his gray-eyed gaze on Kuneera and simply smirks. If she was so willing to abandon him, he would not exert the effort to save her either. Not when he has an opportunity to move upward so soon after becoming a part of that pathetic little gang. With those thoughts in mind, Simone nods in compliance to Muraski, the gesture becoming a partial bow despite the wound in his shoulder. "I can provide numerous names. She is Kuneera. The dead one was Mathias. I am Simone. Of course, there is also the name we all know: Adrian. But how many of us know more than that?" While Kuneera may still believe the merchant is part of the guards, Simone is not so dense. He's figured out that some ruse was interrupted, and it is common knowledge the mysterious crime lord was offering a reward for dead guards. With Muraski having proven to be feigning death, it is obvious enough to this shrewd feline that someone intended to dupe Adrian. The lack of numbers accompanying the merchant suggests it was an endeavor to gain information, and not an actual assault. This attention to detail is what has kept Simone alive, balanced on a fine edge in a world where information can save or kill you.
Muraski enjoyed the younger of the two's quick tongue and attention to detail. "Good good, now the antidote?" He made a turn, another and finally stopped before a run down building. The door was pushed in and he began to traverse the old building as if he knew it. To any who paid attention, the old sign of LeskoVac's Pawn Shop, was out in the front. He walked into a back room and returned with medicine, "See any that will work?" Muraski's collection was extensive, time spent mixing poisons of his own giving him a few different antidotes. "And what group do you belong to? Which of them unwittingly attacked me?" The guard who held Kuneera stood at the entrance, while Bresk was moved to rest in a chair.
Glancing over the shelves of medicine and ingredients, Simone maintains the flow of conversation with ease, willing to offer bits of information for the chunks Muraski has given by location alone. "Group is an apt term. They call themselves the Quick Paws, although I would not call them a gang. Hopes of an easy bounty drove her to act without reason." Said thief glares daggers at the traitorous Simone then as Kuneera hisses. He ignores her however, stopping to peer up at a distant shelf. Using his uninjured arm, he points out a green bottle bearing a yellowed label. "That will take the edge off of your friend's condition. The rest I must brew, for which I require the use of both my hands." A pained, tight-lipped smile is given here.
Muraski shrugged at the kid's comment, "Both arms will have to be proven." He grabbed the indicated vial and handed it towards Bresk, "Drink...." He paused, looked at the label he wrote sometime back, then spoke once more, "About half, considering you're what, three or four times my size?" He finished up his rough estimate then turned back to the kid, "So, let me make sure I understand this. You'd like your arm fixed? Which, I've still left you with both your legs and I know for a fact your arm still works it just hurts.. So, let me debate this, you could have your arm restored but, in return, I get one of your legs." The man spoke this nonchalantly and after sometime added in, "Oh, and how do I know that you'll not be running to Adriane to speak my plans?" A very, cruel grin offered to both felines.
Not surprise, but satisfaction, appears on Simone's face when presented those questions. "I do not like to sound as if I make threats. It is a tactless art reserved for brainless thugs. However, I cannot promise I will brew the antidote properly if distracted by the pain of arm or missing leg, naturally. I imagine not even your powerful friend there could accomplish such a feat. However, if you still choose take a leg, then I most certainly could not run to Adrian either, as you suggest. You do not strike me as a man who would ruin his chances for the sake of needless blood-spilling." Although he doesn't elaborate, he has little doubt Muraski is clever enough to figure out what he means. If Simone truly works for Adrian, than he is the perfect link for the merchant to use now that his first attempt has collapsed. It'd take simple resources on the vampire's part, to have the feline followed, but removing his leg will prevent such a convenient maneuver. And thus, Simone refuses to tell whether or not he has ties to the crime lord. That mystery is what is keeping him alive and fully limbed right now.
Muraski looked peculiarly intrigued by the thought that someone so young could even have met Adrian at all. The idea even proved to grant LeskoVac a small smirk of satisfaction but rather then continuing forward with the questioning he handed the man a separately made concoction, "Drink this, it'll kill the pain and you'll be quite alright." He really didn't feel like offering more to the man's usage of words or whatever else he might think through so rather, Muraski left the feline with less and moved towards the girl. "So, you decided it would be smart to ambush a minotaur. Not just any minotaur but one who managed to take out one of the town's guard." He chuckled, "How'd that go for you?"
Eyes roll in response to Muraski's question before Kuneera speaks, words thick with pain, blood, and a failing consciousness, "Jus' peachy, doll. You didn't have to bad a day either, comin' back from the dead an' all." While one feline mouths off, the other remains silent, the latter continuing to look through the shelves of ingredients. Inattentive he might seem, but Simone is paying close mind to all that is said, while a part of his mind works rapidly through his various options, mapping out means of getting out of this alive. Let Kuneera talk herself into a grave, he has every intention of talking himself -out- of one, and promptly disappearing afterwards. He does his work best from the shadows, after all, and today has dragged him unwillingly into the light. If he can get out of this with his skin, limbs, and secrets intact, it will be a successful day despite the setbacks.
Muraski couldn't help but play smug, he felt accomplished for watching the damned feline suffer but finally he nodded at the other minotaur. The large man set her down, (They do have names, I just constantly forget them..) and Muraski moved towards her leg. Without much effort, the two big guards pinned her back while he began to examine wounds. The bolt, without remorse or care, was pulled free from her injury and alcohol was dumped over bandages, not the drinking kind. The bandages were then wrapped around her leg, tightly and painful tugs made to make sure she wasn't comfortable. Once done, he took dry bandages, wrapping them around the wet ones and forced her to stand. "You good now?" He didn't wait for a response, "Good, then you'll both be good to hear this." He figured the one who did poisons should be done shortly, "You'll both be stuck with me, understand? I have business around this city to conduct and should either of you speak a word, well let's just say it'd go south. So, I have another house, it has food, it has warmth, and it has the names of both of your rooms there. You'll be staying until...Well, a week, maybe two. When I finish you'll be released. I'll offer you some coins. If," He glared, "Either of you decide to steal from me or escape, we'll be breaking limbs, understand?" With that, he pointed at the door and the guard moooooooved, "Any questions before we go?"
Muraski's less than gentle treatments have ripped a number of ragged cries from Kuneera, the pain so overwhelming that she is, fortunately, unable to give an insulting retort to his words. Instead, she bites her tongue to keep from yelping and begins to hobble after the guard, momentarily subdued by the need to remain conscious. Padding quietly after them is the smaller feline, who pauses to blink up with far too child-like an expression. After a moment he nods and says, "I will not break such a generous deal." After all, even if Muraski isn't completely truthful, time is still being offered, and time is Simone's greatest ally. Thus, the feline gets what he wanted, he walks out of the shop with skin, limbs, and secrets intact, along with the potential bonus of learning more about this strange planner he's crossed paths with.
NPC'ing done by Satoshi.