RP:Staking a Claim
Part of the Tales from the Row Arc
Synopsis: The neutral turf of The Whaler in Cenril serves as the location for a coincidental meeting between some of the city’s power players. Claims and counter claims are staked as bandits and rogues seek to establish their place in the city’s new reality.
Characters: Vaduuk, Eliah, Faramond, Alannah.
Location: Cenril; The Whaler
Vaduuk pushes through the door. That's how people enter bars, after all. They may not leave the same way, but that's besides the point. Cheers greet him, a handful of men recognizing the Cenril native and calling out jovially for him to join them. He waves to the group, beelining over to take a seat opened for him, spinning the chair about and straddling it like he's atop a horse. "Any news?" the half orc asks of those gathered, earning himself talk of this or that man spying on some insignificant or another. Nothing important. "Ain't nothin' about anyone vyin' for Kingsley's spot yet?" More shaking heads. Either there's no one trying to take his spot, or his own faction-within-a-faction has been spending time to their own devices. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest. "Jus' keep an eye out and an ear open, boys." With that, he waves over a bar wench, ordering himself a rum.
Eliah rests at the bar, silently surveying the patrons for a brief time before ordering his drink . The commander seems amused with something or another, at least one would assume from the light in his brilliant blue eyes and the quirked half-smile.
Vaduuk smiles at the wench when his rum is delivered. He always appreciates a good rum. And a good arse. This woman has both, or at least until the rum is handed over. Then she's just got that nice backside that the half orc watches sway as she goes off to do her job. "Oi, Duke..." Blinking, he shifts his gaze to the one that calls him, a single brow raising. The man nods towards the door, and Vaduuk's turning about in his seat. So the Crow's here. 'Course he's heard of the Crow. Cenril's Vaduuk's home, after all. "Don't be doin' anythin' stupid," he says to those at his table. "We ain't gonna finish what Kingsley started if ye go runnin' at everyone with fists raised like Mack an' Dom." Mentioning those two has him sneering. He's still sore about last night, and so are his nuts from the way he's shifting about. Damn that strange man kicking him.
Alannah entered the establishment in a quiet fashion, unlike the entrance of Vaduuk. The door opened just enough for the tiny little elf to slip inside then close silently behind her. Being her first time here she was not greeted by people, and that didn't bother her any. But she was surely out of place here. Covered head to toe in bruises, scratches, and cuts with a collar resting around her neck. Toward the bar she moved shyly. Every few steps the slightly big blood and dirt stained hole filled pink gown was pushed back up onto her shoulders.
Eliah could have paid more attention to the orc, in fact he probably should have. Instead the corsair glances at the new arrival with a more peaked intrigue. Eliah stills as he looks over the young elf. " Arik, bring me food and drink... And while you’re at it have one of your girls run out for some clothes." He moves towards the diminunitive form of Alannah, pausing just shy of her. " Miss, you look as if you could use food and drink... allow me to offer such things." and this forces a devilish smirk to form on his features as he stares directly at Vaduuk. " As the vice-Governor of Cenril, its my job to ensure that all of our patrons are taken care of." It's a prod at the rebels as a whole, and all the same a truth that he relishes, at least today."
Vaduuk watches the Crow, watches the bruised and battered elf, watches...everything.The men with him at the table, they're grumbling. None of them seem overly fond of Eliah, more than one talking about slipping a dagger between his ribs. While Duke doesn't outright tell them to shut it, he does give a disapproving look, the frown clear on his dark- skinned face. "Nothin' rash," he dictates as he gets up, taking his rum with him towards the bar and the pair there, vice-Governor and slave alike. "Careful with them Crows, miss. The carrion birds like to peck at what ain't needin' be pecked at." An appraising look is given the woman and her current state of being, his head shaking at the sight. "Ye need a healer, miss? Ye look like you've seen a bit o' bad luck." He won't call it abuse. That'd just be callous. A shame to say he can't keep his eyes off the collar around her throat, though.
Alannah twiddled her thumbs together, watching Eliah as he stood not to far from her. He was a bit close for her liking, she liked to have a good distance between herself and others. The offer of food an drink was accepted with a simple polite nod that in of itself send tangled locks scattering to hang in her face. The other male was not expected to approach and had startled the little slave. A slight jump with his first set of words, followed by a confused look, not sure what he was talking about. Mint green hued eyes peered out at him, studying him up and down for a long time before she finally spoke. "Um…alright." It was nothing more than a faint whisper.
Eliah gives ever the slightest chuckle and motions to the table prepared for the young-elven woman, even making to point out the addition of a set of clothes for her. " Ah, there are clothes for you as well, rooms upstairs too if you like. I'll pay for it should you need to use it." The elven corsair looks from her of course to Vaduuk once more. " Ah, ever the impressive linguist Duke, isn't it? Never the less, I'm curious just why it is you seem to think I am somehow detrimental to you and your , associates.." He was very skilled as a talker, he could talk circles around many. But beyond his pretty words there was a very large truth. the Carrion Crow was a pirate, a dangerous one, and he cut his teeth on testing the wiles of others. He wasn't the leader of The Gathering.
Vaduuk watches as the stuff is lain out for Allanah, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. "An' I fail to see how ye think ye're good for us," he returns, turning towards his former table and waving over a scrawny little man. Yes, they had been watching the whole exchange. After all, there's Duke, right near the Crow. It merits keeping an eye on. "See to her, Ronny. Scrapes and bruises, so far as I can see. Make sure nothin's broken inside." Ronny nods, turning to the elven slave and explaining what he's about to do and what it involves...that is to say, casting his spells and checking for gods know what. Touching is to be involved, so he wants to make sure the girl isn't going to run frightened. "All you are is an over-glorified Burnham, Crow. We both know ye ain't as sophisticated as ye act."
Alannah offered a small nod toward Eliah. Slowly, shyly she made her way toward the table and sat there. It was then her back side was visible with two long strike marks forming a large X along the length of her back. The wounds were welted up with thin lines of partly healed cuts, like they were from something similar to a whip, but not exactly a whip. Toes curled the girl only slowly picked at the food, eating small bites slowly. Ronny would find that besides the marks on her back, many bruises and scrapes that just her right arm was broken beneath the flesh. Toward Eliah she whispered, "..thanks", referring to his kind offers.
Eliah nods simply in response to the young woman and then glances at the Duke with something akin to a feral amusement. " And yet none of you have had it in you to place yourselves before my rapier. Not even that 'famed' Razor found himself capable." He chuckles, and waves a dismissive hand, offering the young woman one last glance. " I must be off, if you require anything simply ask the bartender or a barmaid, miss. If you need me, I'm easily found near the docks, my business is often tied to such things.
Faramond stepped into The Whaler's Bar, cigarette lit and shoved between his lips. Last night had kept the thief up, but today was proving to not be as bad. Glancing around, calculating green eyes were scanning the crowd for the ruffians from last night. A shrug of his shoulders given, Faramond swaggered on up to the very head of the bar, smoke idly drifting from his mouth, "Fedlark... A name ya heard?" He mentioned it quite casually to the bar tender who seemed to jump a bit, turning away and avoiding the rogue. Maybe he had come to the right spot.
Faramond said to Eliah, "Razor's dead... Doesn't do much to talk about a dead man? After all, it ain't that hard seein' as he can't defend himself."
Eliah said to Faramond, "A pity, I was finally growing intrigued with his little game..."
Faramond said to Eliah, "Then perhaps I can entertain you..... Because a new game is coming to town, eh?" What an odd statement, "His men... Are in shambles, I hear, I'm looking for a few of 'em... To whip up, wouldn't know anything about any of them, would ya?"
Vaduuk bares his teeth at the Crow, a display of that orcish heritage of his. "Ye're sayin' that like ye're worth fightin', Crow," he sneers, even as Ronny is looking over Allanah's various wounds. The marks on her back have his face already frowning, but that broken arm's what sets him off to grumbling. Cenril's been rife with illegal activities for a long time, so none of them are unaware of the meaning of that collar. "Damned bastards," the healer curses before he goes about scrounging up some stuff, a cloth and some alcohol.The healer dabs the cloth into the alcohol before dabbing at the various cuts and abrasions, letting the alcohol burn out any infection before he starts to chant. His skill is meager, really, a man grown up in the slums of the city and untrained in his skill, having picked up his tricks here and there. So, while the broken arm is magically set and the wounds on her body are mended, the broken bone is far from fully healed. "Try not to use that arm much if you can help it," Ronny tells Allanah before he nods to Duke, signalling the completion of his task before he returns to his friends. Vaduuk nods his thanks to the man, watches the table of his comrades...and spies Faramond entering. Another curse. He's in no mood for another brawl. Not at the moment, anyways.
Faramond cleared his throat, glancing over at Vaduuk, "Head still between your legs, or do I have ter kick ya in the face again before your ears'll open?"
Vaduuk clenches a fist, a deep breath taken while eyes shut for a moment. That kick in the head had been all Faramond's fault, to his mind. He hadn't once intended to actually get involved in the brawl the previous night. Indeed, he had tried to pull his two associates out of it. "If ye'd actually make sense of what ye're sayin', mayhap I'd listen."
Eliah said to Vaduuk, " I doubt you're willing to find out just yet... I'd wager you’re more comfortable stabbing someone in the back." There's a smirk, he'd no issues poking at those who loathed him, it was the cause for amusement.
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "I told you, to leave your friends and have a seat... I got no time for drunken fools."
Vaduuk would have growled at Eliah if he hadn't already been trying to calm himself. "Keep cawin', Crow. Ye'll be shot down mid-flight, mark my words." All of this is said while his eyes are on Faramond, and once he's done speaking he spreads his arms at his immediate surroundings at the bar. "I sit alone at a bar, away from my companions. And even still..." He sends a look at the table of his friends. "None of them are drunk. Yet."
Faramond ordered two drinks, the second of which was slid towards Vaduuk as he puffed on his cigarette, "Then while you are in the right mind, let's talk business."
Vaduuk catches the drink slid his way, eying the drink for a second. If this man's wanting to talk business, he'll drink later. "What sort of business ye talkin'?"
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "A night on the town, or a year on the town, depending on how you work it... Razor's gone, I'm here.. I figure a tad bit of wit wouldn't hurt none to get the men motivated... Even the Burnham's old boys need someone to go... This city is right for plucking and I'll be damned if I let some goodie knight take it." A shake of his head, his hand moving the blonde hair from his eyes, "No, you may not know me yet, Duke, but by the end of this... Everyone will know me."
Vaduuk frowns, eying the man sidelong as he cradles the liquor glass in his hands. "Razor. That's what them Rynvale folk called 'im, innit? You from Rynvale?" A snort. As if the islanders don't have enough sway on the underbelly of civilization. "Who's to be sayin' that you don't already have other people lookin' at Kingsley's vacant throne?"
Faramond eyed Vaduuk, "Cause I want it. I'm not bein' shy... Fedlark's one of the few left... I get him." And his finger knocked over something idly, "The rest of the people lookin' to take over will crumble. Now I don't want a civil war on my hands." A shake of his head, "I'm not goin' to do this nice... No, no, Vaduuk. I'm lookin' for a few good men to help me... We kill Fedlark and we seize control, no one else has to die, the people won't get involved... This place has assets and we need to keep 'em intact."
Vaduuk slides the drink given him away, untouched. "So ye assume I'm gonna hand the reins of the city over to ye, after all the work Kingsley did? Jus' 'cause ye show up in the city and talk yer pretty talk about unitin' the place?" He snorts.
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "I don't want you to hand me crap. I take it, lad, that's how this works... I'm just makin' sure when I take, I got someone who wants what I want, I'd rather end this quiet than make a war.. Isn't that how Razor would want it?" Funny that he would invoke the name of Grot in his plea, but from the way he had heard things, that might resonate harder with the man, "I'm goin' to prove I'm the right man for the job, I'm just hoping you can accept that."
Vaduuk eyes the man long and hard, sitting straight on his stool. "So lemme get this straight. Ye want to run what Kingsley left behind, and ye want his men's support." That long, hard stare continues. "Jus' be knowin' that if you rut up, I'll be comin' fer yer head." That's likely as close to a 'maybe' as Faramond is likely to get from the half orc.
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "Oh, I want more than that... The Burnham's... Their boys ain't all dead... It's all the city or none, Vaduuk, this is high stakes, and some people aren't taking this like a game."
Vaduuk said to Faramond, "The Burnham's are nothin' but brutes who like ta beat people up and take their coin. I ain't workin' with the people Kingsley was against. They ain't got no business bein' let to hold any ground."
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "Then we kill the bad ones, lad, you are thinking too small... The Burnham's were nothing, but their men... Their troops, got to deal with them one way or another, and the most of 'em we can get without fighting, the better."
Vaduuk said to Faramond, "And ye're thinkin' too grand. Ye're assumin' most of Kingsley's men'll wanna pair with a Burnham, after havin' been fightin' em alongside their hero against 'em. Ye ain't considerin' what it'll take ta get everyone ye want on yer side."
Faramond said to Vaduuk, "I know what it is gonna take, lad... Just give me time, and I'll give you faith... Until next time, then, hopefully we'll have more to chat about."