Cassandra Pendragon
The "Gilded Dream" lived up to its name. It was a three storey, well constructed building, painted in red and bronze with many a lantern, swinging in the wind. The walls were made of hard stone and only the attic, beneath the shingled roof, was comprised of sturdy looking timbres. An enormous terrace took up the front of the second floor, arched staircases gently climbing up from the street, with huge doors connecting it to the interior. A young man, accompanied by two pretty girls, was smoking a pipe in the sun, apparently without a care in the world, and two elderly wolf kin played a game of chess, close by. In the shadows beneath the terrace, tables stood in front of the entrance, surrounding a counter with an assortment of spirits and wine, but nobody occupied the seats. Only a burly human kept an eye on and a hand in the booze.
In contrast, the noises spilling through the half opened main door were all the more lively. I heard faint music and the occasional euphoric whoop, even though we were still only making our way down the street, at the end of which the "Gilded Dream" and all its temptations awaited us.
After the waitress' warning, I carefully studied the few handful of people who lingered in the street, looking for someone, who fit the description she had given us. It didn't take me long to spot three figures, sticking to the shadows of the neighbouring buildings, in an effort to remain unnoticed. They wore long cloaks, hoods covering their faces, despite the sweltering heat.
I tapped Ahri on the shoulder and said: "there they are. Should we talk to them first or simply waltz in and let the dice roll as they may?"
"Let's see what they have to say." Turning around, she gestured for the others to go ahead, while we slowed down a notch and leisurely made our way over, hand in hand. They saw us coming from a mile away, their lecherous stares and widening grins telling me exactly what they were thinking. Both disappeared quickly enough, though, when we had gotten close and suddenly stood before them, apparently without having crossed the last few metres on foot.
"Good day, gents," I said confidently. "It's such a lovely day, why would you ever be hiding under garments, much more suitable for the dead of night? It's almost as if… you're standing guard."
They were all the same garden variety of a thug. Unkempt, broad shouldered, probably not the brightest bulbs in the bunch and slightly smelly. One of them seemed to be particularly partial to fish and apparently enjoyed his meals with loads of onions and garlic on the side. No wonder he was the leader of the dirty trio, otherwise, the two others would have sent him packing, long ago.
"It ain't healthy, poking your pretty noses where they don't belong," he finally rumbled when he had overcome his surprise and his years of experience, threatening and intimidating people, kicked in, "if you know what's good for you, missy, you'll scamper off, right to where you came from. Otherwise, the boys and I might decide to take our compensation, for the trouble you're causing, out of your hides." His eyes roamed up and down my body and he grinned again. "But please, stay. I don't think I've seen a prettier face, before. What do you say, Al? Ain't they beautiful?"
"They sure are," the man on his right wheezed, his voice hinting at either a lasting wound or a severe cold. "Wouldn't mind playing with 'em. 'N why shouldn't we? Teach 'em a lesson."
"A lesson you say," I chuckled. "Those are easy to come by, today. Here's one." When my foot connected with Al's groin, his eyes bulging like a constipated frog's, I faintly wondered how embarrassing this would become, if the three of them were truly just innocent bystanders. But I quickly chucked the thought aside. Even if they weren't here to watch or protect John, they hadn't exactly endeared themselves to me and a thorough beating might do wonders for their characters. Unfortunately, I was probably a tad too late for any lasting consequences.
As soon as Al was collapsing, his hands desperately clutched around his privates, I gave Mr. Fish my brightest smile and danced around his sloppy jab. While Ahri unceremoniously knocked the last of the three into next week, I locked his extended arm, switched my grip and threw him over my shoulder. The air left his lungs in an explosion of garlic and onions, his eyes quivering in their sockets. Laughing softly, I pressed my foot against his neck and bore down until he laid flat.
"Oh my, what an amazing teacher you are." When he regained his senses, he clumsily pushed against my leg, his dirty nails scraping over dwarven cloth. A little more pressure discouraged him from trying harder, though. Even a certified goon valued the ability to breathe more highly than his wounded pride and judging from his bluish complexion, he was quickly losing the former.
"That's better," I purred. "Now then, while your friend is searching for his balls, why don't you answer a few questions for me. First one, do you, by any chance, wear a pendant, in the form of a broken wheel? You know what, scratch that, I'll have a look myself."
I carefully crouched down and opened his cloak. A second later, my fingers closed around metal.
"And what do we have here," I whispered, a broken wheel sitting on my palm. "A present from one of your friends? Or maybe something else? Tell me, where did you get this?" He wheezed in reply and I moved my foot, allowing him to breathe freely, while I cheerily waved at a passer-by.
"That's… it's a mark! The mark of our guild," he croaked. "You've no idea, whom you're messing with, missy! If you're smart, you'll run and never look back, for we'll be coming for you! You're so dead, bitch! I'm going to enjoy…" his voice trailed off, when I readjusted my position.
"Oh my, such vulgarities. If I were you, I'd worry more about my current situation than my revenge. And I'd probably take a week long bath, but that's another matter. So, you've been given this little gizmo. By whom, might I ask? And please, try to answer politely, otherwise I might just slip and I can't imagine your throat can take much more. It isn't overly sturdy, you know?" I added a little more weight, to emphasise my point, before I stepped back.
He coughed violently, his legs convulsing with every ragged breath he gulped down. Finally, when I was already beginning to fear I might have permanently damaged something, he calmed down.
"John," he mumble through his swollen voice box. "I've gotten it from John. He's our boss. A regular around here. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask him."
"I think I just might. What do you say, love, should we leave them now?" Ahri shook her head gracefully, her platinum hair glowing with a crimson sheen in the midday sun.
"I don't think we can," she replied thoughtfully, her eyes cold. "It'd be much easier to slit their throats. Less trouble further down the road." I shrugged, playing along.
"No, wait! I… I can help you! Whatever you need, I can make sure you get it, but please, don't kill me. I… what is it, you're looking for? I know people, I know secrets, I'm sure I can help you," our prisoner begged. "Names? I can give you the names of most people in our guild, all hells, I can even tell you who's backing us!"
"And who'd that be," I asked innocently, sauntering over to his almost castrated friend. With a deft punch to the face, I knocked him out and cut short the unending stream of groans.
"The church," he confessed in a rush, his voice almost an octave higher than before. "The church of the Broken Wheel! They've provided us with gold and influence! We could never have achieved as much on our own."
"Achieved as much," I echoed sceptically. "Achieved what, exactly? Being manhandled by two girls, in front of a brothel? Your blazing success leaves me speechless. I think I'll just…" when I reached for what he had to assume was a knife, he continued in a panic:
"No! Look, the church of the Broken Wheel, they're hiring! They're assembling an army. It's not only us, but over the last few months, they've gotten every merc and cutthroat, who isn't bound to a guild or a Captain, to work for them. They gave John the pendants and they give us our targets. Dunno, who they are, my job is to protect John's ass, but he can surely tell you. And I know the guy, who always has our orders. He's a priest, I'll lead you to the church and point him out, if you want. He's a scrawny fellow, blonde hair, no beard, mid thirties. Walks with a limp."
"Now, that sounds a little better," Ahri said and petted his cheeks. "And you weren't afraid of the Captains or the other guilds? Incidentally, why haven't they squashed you, yet?"
"Nightshade," he squeaked. "The priest says, they've got Captain Nightshade at their beck and call. He's protecting us from the others. The guilds were a problem, but ever since the Mask died, we can move more freely. As far as I know, he was the only one who kept an eye on us. We've been on more missions over the past few days, than in the year before."
"What about the Cabal? The power behind, who the Mask was," I asked. "Didn't they know?"
"Who? Lady, I honestly don't know, whom you're talking about. The Mask was pushing to unite the freelancers, as were we. That's how we met. Dunno who else might have been involved."
"I see. Unfortunately, this also means goodbye." Before he could do more than stare in horror, I grabbed his head and smashed it back onto the ground, putting him to sleep immediately.
"Shit," I cursed. "What is it, now? Is the church working for the Captain, or is the Captain manipulated by the church. What the hell is going on, here?"
"I don't know, but we're going to find out. If John doesn't have more for us, we already know where we have to go, next, don't we?"
"A scrawny, limping priest in his thirties with blonde hair," I replied, nodding. "It's just… damn it, I wish we had had the chance to speak to the spies Captain Dawn had caught."
"Why? Do you think the Emperor is somehow involved? If so, he would have made sure, they wouldn't have had the chance to talk. But I don't see it, either way. How could he?"
"I just don't know. But it feels like… people acting differently, chaos, seemingly unconnected deaths and accusations? It reminds me so much of what happened back home… I can't shake it. You're probably right, but I'd like to make sure, if at all possible."
"You'll have to wait, I guess. Once we have beaten around the bush, a few times, I'm sure the monster will rear its head. And when it does, we'll be waiting."
"Witch a smile and a gun. Maybe not a gun, but something equally deadly. Alright, then. Let's not keep the others waiting. I guess our friends here will wake up in half an hour. It'd be for the best, if we were gone from this lovely place, when they do. Shall we?"
"One sec." Ahri quickly patted them down, taking their purses and two daggers, storing them in her stamp. To my unspoken question, she replied: "punishment. We don't need the money, anymore, but they don't deserve it. And the daggers are finely crafted. Come on, then."
The first surprise awaited us at the door. A veritable mountain of a man stood directly in the entrance, his presence alone enough to keep the rabble rousers at bay. He didn't spare us more than a superficial glance, immediately chucking us firmly into the "they can't cause trouble" category. He allowed us in, pulling aside a heavy, dark red curtain, hung directly behind the door. He obviously hadn't seen what we had done to Mr. Fish's trio. Once through, a wave of sound and smells flowed over us. The faint laughter and fragmented songs became a cacophony of noise, augmented by the heavy odour of spilled beer, sweat, tobacco and sweet perfumes.
Instead of a usual taproom, the lower floor of the "Gilded Dream" was a maze of screens, tables, chairs and cupboards, arranged around a central stage. Barely dressed servants catered to the needs of the patrons, advertising the products as well as their own… charms, gliding in and out of the private alcoves, the furniture had been arranged to form. On their trays, they smilingly carried beverages and drugs, pipes and food, always ready to flirt with a customer or take another order.
On the stage, a beautiful human girl was entranced in a song, I had never heard before, but the falling and rising cadences of her youthful voice conjured a feeling of desire and longing. A sentiment obviously shared by most of the guests, since they couldn't remove their eyes from the display. During the chorus, some even joined in. A capital offence, as far as I was concerned, their rough bellows an awful contrast to the lovely music. The minstrel didn't mind, though, only worrying about her harp and the perfect timing of her next note. At the far end of the room, a staircase led to the second floor and judging form the occasional couple, who came down giggling, hand in hand, I assumed the private rooms would also be found up there.
Despite the early hour, the "Gilded Dream" was well frequented, even though it was far from crowded. During the evening, I imagined that'd change and I couldn't help but wonder, if the employees had to stay here around the clock or if they worked in shifts. It was hard to tell in the dim light, blinking through half closed curtains, but they didn't seem overly tired or exhausted. If anything, they reminded me of the people, who had worked at the first establishment we had visited, when we had arrived in Free Land. Not necessarily happy with their occupation, but far form desperate. Maybe Madame Sinis treated her underlings just as well as Gardan had.
Despite the colourful mixture of patrons and workers, our entrance still caused a scene. As soon as we stepped past the curtain, the closest guests began to stare. The motion spread outwards, like a wave in a pond, and soon almost everyone was looking our way, confusion, interest and greed sparkling in their gazes. For me, it almost felt like another official gathering back home, when I had been forced to prance around before the assembled court. The stares back then hadn't been any better and I had gotten quite good at ignoring them completely.
Ahri, though, didn't have the benefit of my rather unique education and I could feel her shrinking under the pressure. As good as she was with a blade in her hand, this was a very different form of attack. Being reduced to an object, worthy of lust or possessiveness, by a whole room filled with strangers, did take a bit of getting used to and I could tell from experience, that it'd take even longer until she'd be able to use it to her advantage. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do, except for diverting the attention, which I could not, without making everything worse.
"Hello," I said timidly to the closest waitress, a busty human girl with long, brown hair and piercing blue eyes. "We're looking for Madam Sinis. Some of our friends should have arrived a few minutes ago. Would you please, be so kind as to point us in their direction?" She scrutinised me for a moment, probably evaluating whether I was lying and if we might cause trouble, but she came to the same result as the bouncer at the entrance. She smiled at me and replied:
"They're on the second floor and waiting for you. Please, follow me, I can show you. It's not everyday that we get to see the more exotic races, around here. Don't mind the stares, they'll have forgotten all about you, once you're out of sight." She led the way, nimbly weaving around tables and guests, while she added: "I do have to ask, though: you're not looking for a job, are you?" I chuckled honestly in response.
"By the gods, no. Were you worried?"
"A little," she admitted. "Usually, I don't mind the competition, but… never mind. I didn't really believe it, anyways, but after everything Pete said… I wanted to make sure."