I talked and talked and talked with Darrin until my throat started to hurt. I covered everything from me escaping the inquisition in Exarch's Bend, getting rid of Bell, to visiting Pascen and heading out across the seas to Versia. During that time I reflected on those events - and also adjusted them so that I didn't arouse any unneeded suspicion about the reasons behind those adventures. There were a lot of unknowns. How had they reacted to Bell's death? Did they even care? I assumed not.
Darrin responded in kind. He received some assistance from Cass and followed her to this city, where she continued setting him up with jobs and showing him the ropes of being a full-time rogue instead of a snivelling pickpocket. He worked his way up the ladder and eventually felt confident enough to go it alone.
Not for this one, he wanted a good pair of hands to 'wrangle' the gang members into line.
There was nothing worse than having to bring an outsider into things. It was easy enough when the job was something that required little more than brute force; but breaking and entering with a platoon of morons wasn't my idea of a good time. They didn't know the first thing about keeping things quiet and they didn't know how to break out of a paper bag, never mind lockpick a door or safe. But it was as the client demanded. We were ultimately bound to their desires and whims, if we ignored them we wouldn't get paid.
Darrin had done his homework and chosen a very unusual window of opportunity. Just as the sun started to set in the evening. The guards would swap shifts and the size of the security detail would be downsized slightly. Additionally, there was less foot traffic by the 'park' with most choosing to return home and rest for the day. That meant we could pick our moment and take out the front guards without any witnesses.
As the time approached, several of Vincent's men assembled inside of the already cramped house, laughing and joking about all the money we were about to make. If there was any anxiety amongst the number - none of them showed it. Darrin spoke with Vincent out of earshot. He emerged through the doorway into the living room where several of them were still getting a good view of the map he'd created.
"Alright, are we all ready to go?"
"Aye!"
"Vincent says no armbands, take 'em off."
The men did as Darrin asked, leaving them behind or shoving them into their pockets. A bright yellow rag wrapped around your arm was an easily identifiable mark. The guards would see us from a mile away if we went in wearing those. A member of each group reached into a nearby crate and retrieved a blackjack; a crude, leather wrapped blunt weapon that could easily be concealed under a coat or jacket. These took the form of small clubs with a weighted tip.
Stigma sat on the table, waving her legs like an impatient child. "Can't you just kill them and be done with it?" I ignored her rote comments and grabbed one for myself. This would make it incredibly easy to knock my assigned guard out. After the blackjack came a complimentary helping of coarse rope to tie them with.
Vincent held the door open and waved the gang through, with me and Darrin bringing up the rear. In order to avoid any spotters running and telling on us before we even got there, we split up into several smaller teams and dispersed through different routes. The streets were busy with people heading to their homes after the workday ended. We pushed and shoved through the crowds until we reached our destination.
The warehouse was a large, rectangular building that sat nestled between shops and residences. A pair of huge barn doors beckoned, with a single open window and analog crane system hanging free from above. There was a single human-sized door to the right. Two men stood watch. While it was being used as a front for a smuggling operation, it was also likely being used as a real storage facility for nearby businesses.
That wasn't what we were interested in though. We were here for the rumoured cache of medicine. There wasn't much foot traffic now – as the rush hour died down and people settled in to escape from the evening cold. We were going to pick our moment and strike when no one was looking.
Darrin leaned in to me, "Here we are. When the coast is clear I'm going to give you a signal, get around the left guard's side and clobber him good. I'll do the same to his friend. Get the keys, unlock the door, and drag them inside. Then we need to take care of the people in there."
"Don't worry. I learned a thing or two about brawling the other day."
He pointed to the helmet hanging loose from a loop on my belt, "You kidding me? You're dressed like a knight right now."
We continued with our discussion in an attempt to mask our real intent. Darrin would peer around the corners and down the streets to make sure that everyone was in position, then return to me in a huff. He was getting seriously stressed out by all of this. To be truthful I was feeling some nerves as well.
Then the moment of truth finally arrived. There was practically nobody around to witness our robbery. Darrin pointed me in the right direction and split away from me to get behind the first guard. It was on my mark. I gripped the blackjack's leather hilt tight between my palms and rounded the corner with intent. There was a second where the man on the other end of my attack tried to comprehend why a heavily armed stranger was swinging a club at him. It didn't last too long as the impact let out a sickening thud and his body fell to the floor.
The other guard turned on me, only to suffer the same fate at the hands of an unseen Darrin. He rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a small loop of keys. "Do it!" Darrin yelled at the top of his lungs. It was so loud that it echoed through the entire district. Sounds of a scuffle breaking out around the corner made it evident that the gangsters had heard his command. Darrin ignored it and tested each key on the front door until it clicked open.
Meanwhile, I busied myself by tying the unconscious men's hands and legs together. I grabbed them both by the knots I had created and dragged them, one-handed, to the doorway where Darrin was waiting. His eyes bulged as he witnessed the display of strength; "Bloody hell, you're pretty strong."
"Have to be to use a sword like this," I responded. I finally got my first look inside of the building. There wasn't much to see. All of the potential lines of sight had been obscured by a dense assembly of boxes, piled just high enough to block us from view. I left the two stiffs to the right of the entryway and motioned for Darrin to continue on.
Full of confidence, he marched through and found himself in an open space, left in the middle of the storage area. A small table had been placed there. It was covered with empty pales of beer and a scattered deck of cards that had been used to occupy their time. The two men on internal watch duty leaped from their chairs and drew short knives.
"Who the fuck are you?!"
Darrin didn't dignify the question with an answer. He used his speed to close the gap and pull one of the men away from the table. I moved in and made my presence known to the second. He passed the knife between his hands in an attempt to intimidate me. I moved my body in a flimsy mockery of an advance, causing him to flinch back like a coward. I smirked.
That pissed him off. He roared and charged at me with an outstretched limb, hoping that his shiv would somehow find its mark without accuracy or care. His dagger passed through the gap between my ribcage and my arm as I adjusted my footing. I reached out and gripped his outstretched limb and swung with my other free arm, thwacking him across the top of his skull and knocking him out in one shot.
That was an extremely sloppy attack. Even if it hit me it wouldn't have penetrated my armour.
Out of the darkness, the other guard stumbled back and onto the ground with a new great red welt over his cheekbone. We tied both of them and left them there. The other men had already done their part of the job and ambushed the others, leaving them in a heap with the first two near the door.
"Any injuries?" Vincent asked from beneath a black cloth mask.
One of the men relayed the info, "No problem boss. We got all of them. Not a scratch on us."
That was why you always brought numbers to a fight. Vincent grabbed a crowbar from one of the crates and approached the one with the easiest point of access. He popped the lid, and two of his men came to hold it up while he investigated.
"What's the score?" Darrin asked.
Vincent dipped inside and came back out with a glowing green vial between his dirtied fingers. "Well would you look at that, a big bloody shipment of potions. Filled to the brim with 'em." There was a murmur of excitement from the crew as the prospect of a big profit became more and more real.
Darrin pumped his fist, "Alright. Let's get these crates inspected, rest of you – start moving them down the route we planned!"
There was a sudden flurry of movement as the gang ran roughshod over the warehouse. Every crate was cracked open and inspected, before being moved to the front if it contained what we were looking for. The start of a human conveyor belt stood by the door and passed them down a long chain of people, posted to make transport quick and easy. They were like a swarm of locusts, looting and consuming everything in their path.
The once overfull warehouse was rapidly being stripped of the boxes, leaving only a few stragglers behind. I watched in some bemusement as they worked like a 'well-oiled machine' to steal as much as possible as quickly as possible.
Darrin was still keeping his finger on the pulse – the job wasn't over until it was over, "Any sign of trouble?"
Vincent shook his head, "No guards, no witnesses. If there are, all they're gonna' see is a pack of our lads passing some boxes down the road. They're not gonna' say shit to no guardsmen."
It only took forty-five minutes for the looting process to be completed. Every bit of healing liquor inside of the building had been ferried out of there. Vincent was beside himself in barely constrained malice. He must have really hated those other gangs. He kept lording over the increasingly conscious hostages, strutting back and forth like a proud farmyard cock. He didn't even notice when me and Darrin were preparing to leave.
The new rogue pushed him from behind, "Stop jerking your willy and let's go."
Vincent laughed it off. We locked the door shut behind us and tossed the keys into the dirt. They'd change the locks after this anyway. The daisy chain of stolen goods had wrapped up and gone to ground. We wanted to keep this as covertly as possible. Vincent wanted to do one last check of the safehouse to make sure that everything was there and in order.
"Order" may have been the wrong word for it, it was complete anarchy inside of the already confined space. Every last square foot had been consumed, swallowed whole by box upon box of healing salve. The magical green glow emitted by them flooded the house and started to hurt my eyes a little. Vincent double checked that the curtains were closed to keep outsiders from noticing. Not that it worked. You could see the green light escaping from behind the cheap cloth from some distance.
Vincent was satisfied for now, "Now we've just gotta' find someone with the money to buy these."
Darrin was in a good mood; "It's still early doors. How about we go have a drink to celebrate a job well done?"
Vincent grinned, "Count me in."
This was exactly what I wanted, the chance to drink him under the table and get some information out of him. I acquiesced to Darrin's request, "Alright. I can go for a few."
"Great. I know an amazing little place…"