Murder is for Amateurs (Dark Sun)

[Imperial Overlord]

I was telling stories to children just off of the agora when it happened. I was telling stories because my lute was broken in tavern brawl two nights ago and it would be time before Andrel would be finished making me a replacement. So instead of playing for my dinner, I was telling stories to children for the occasional ceramic bit.

That was half of it, at least. The other half was listening and watching. I did a bit of information selling and that put more bits in my purse. Of course bits came out of my purse to. Protection fees to local gangsters, bribes to templars, food, and water all ate up most of what I made. It was a good thing I wasn't really trying to make my living this way.

There weren't any children around when he came. I was standing in the shade next to the wall of an almost prosperous house when I saw him. In Balic the rich wear togas, but their servants usually wear thigh length tunics. This one had the arrogance of a rich man's slave, wearing good sandals and a clean yellow tunic. He had a bone knife at his belt, but he didn't really need it. He had muscle with him.

The bald mul with him was close to seven feet than six, bald as his dwarven ancestors and muscled like a gladiator. He wore armour of inix hide and carried a warclub made from the thighbone of something big. Scars lined just about every part of his smooth skin.

I stood up. I'm not big, just a human of average height but with muscles that do attract a lady's eyes. I have an obsidian bladed knife sheathed on my belt, but that's it for weapons. Okay, not really. I'm twice the killer the ex-gladiator is.

I get up and bow. "Great one," say in the obsequies tone they know to expect, "a story to lighten your cares? To aid you with the wisdom of the ancients? Perhaps to shed light on the world around you? Perhaps the story of the Giant and the Dragon."

"Silence," said the human. His dark hair was streaked with grey, as was his beard. "My master may have some use for you."

"I am honoured to beyond words to serve such an august personage," I babbled and bowed before falling into line. The mul looked like he wanted to brain me. Trying it would be the last thing he did.

It was just past noon and the day was full of heat. They lead me through the baking streets to prosperous district. Walled houses with two stories and armed slaves at the door were common. They approached one in particular, a square two story building which only had windows on the second story. It was of robust brick construction and the door was some kind of oiled dark wood. Another slave stood on guard, this one human. He wore inix hide armour as well, but was armed with a pair of heartpicks. He glowered at me from behind his helmet, but let us in.

I wiped my feet on the woven mat, not that there was much need for that. The entrance had a blue rug with lightning bolt patterns in red and yellow and the traditional bowl of water for guests. I reached for the ladle and filled a ceramic mug. The mul growled. Such things were not meant for menials, but honoured guests. "Shut him up," I told the master's servant.

"Kaddesh," the human said. "Leave us. He will meet the master." I downed the cup of water. It was cold, despite it being mid afternoon. "Come with me bard."

I followed him down the hall and into the interior courtyard. A small tree grew in the center and it was completely given over to a garden. One patch was barren with grey, flaky soil. Vines grew in trestles along the sides of the courtyard and fed on the bloody light of the dark sun.

A man sat cross legged on the grass in front of the tree. He wore the toga of the aristocracy but in unfashionable black. He was maybe thirty, although he looked older. His face was leathery and tough and a few grey hairs could be seen in his hair and beard. Gold glittered from rings on his fingers and a silver armband encircled his right forearm. That much metal was a fortune. I tried to control my greed. There were no guards anywhere.

"You sent for me?" I said bluntly. He already knew who I really was, there was no point in pretending.

"Asteros the bard. Musician, storyteller, gossiper, womanizer. Murderer."

"I am no such thing," I said. He was probably a practitioner of the Unseen Way, a devotee of the psionic disciplines.

"You are," he replied. "I too have a name. Bevenalt. The Waster. Defiler." My blood ran cold. A defiler, a sorcerer who fueled his spells by consuming life. Life in the soil, in plants, in people all was fuel if the defiler was strong enough. Sorcery was illegal in Balic, of course, unless one had the Andropinis's permission. The sorcerer-kings didn't like rivals.

"So now that we both know that we are scum, shall we get down to business?" he said.

"What do you wish of me?"

"I want something stolen. Unfortunately, the owner will probably realize who commissioned the theft and become difficult. So he needs to die as well. Murder is one of the services you provide, yes?"

"No," I said. "Murder can be bought on the streets for a few ceramic coins. This city is full of murderers and they won't do you any good. I'm an assassin. Killing in my craft. I'm a professional."

"I hope you don't suffer from any delusions of aesthetic value in killing?"

"No. I do the job, I get paid for the job. Everything else if for amateurs. So who's the target, what do you want retrieved, and how much are you willing to pay?"

[Imperial Overlord]

The defiler nodded. "The target is Lord Darus Theronus. Do you know who he is?"

"Yes, I've seen him." Every nice party needs entertainers. Darus had inherited the leadership of his family by employing people like me to remove relatives from his path. "Go on."

"The item in question is a talisman, a small curved yellow horn that looks like the claw from a big cat or bird. He probably has it on his person."

"Very magical?"

"Yes."

"Good." I have a little training with the Unseen Way. I'm no mindbender, but I can recognize magical auras if I concentrate. "You realize this isn't going to be cheap."

"I expected otherwise. Name your price."

"Forty gold."

"An outrageous sum."

"So is the risk. And the talisman is worth twice as much. At least. You're getting a substantial discount."

"Done," he replied. "How soon?"

"Not soon," I replied. "I have to come up with a plan that allows me to verify the location of the talisman, gets me close to it and probably him, steal it, kill him, and escape." I left out the whole bit about getting paid by my employer instead of killed, but that wasn't really under discussion. "Nothing about that is quick and easy, except possibly the execution if the plan is good enough. It'll take time."

He nodded. "Then we are done."

I knew when I was being dismissed. I inclined my head and left. I stopped by a well and paid the templar a few bits for full bucket of water and returned to my modest little house in the artisan district. Solid brick construction, a stout door, and three rooms. More than most had and certainly more than most troubadours without other means of augmenting their income. I ate bread I dipped in olive oil and several wedges of strong cheese washed down with water while I contemplated my course of action. I retired to my mat and slept.

When I awoke I took out a hollow wooden baton and one of the pieces of paper I had concealed beneath the false bottom of a drawer. I took out several pots and mixed an ink and then painstakingly wrote a message on the scroll. I waited for it to almost dry and then curled it into the baton and left my house.

I inquired at the Theronus townhouse about the lord, but the gate guard told me he was away at the estates. So I left Balic's walls and went into the fields and plantations that occupied the verdant belt around the city. I knew where to go.

The house proper had a wall and a pair of half giant guards. They answered to a human female as tall as I was. She was red haired, but no beauty, an overseer unless I missed my guess. She had a whip and a stone headed mace in her belt. "So hand me the message," she said irritatedly.

"I was instructed to only hand it to Lord Darus," I quivered.

"Then lie," she said.

"I'm to carry his reply back. My employer is not a man I care to cross."

She snarled and let me in. I waited in the hall like any other desperately poor freeman trying to earn his way through the world. The Theronus estate was old and well decorated. Generations had been patrons to the finest slave-artisans and acquired wealth and beauty. The walls were white and gleaming, the rugs immaculate. The house slaves wore unblemished white.

Eventually the red head lead me into Lord Darus's presence. The red head staid by the door. Darus was sitting at a table, slicing pieces off a peach with a steel fruit knife. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was stock and only a small amount of it was fat. His mane and beard of black curls had been freshly oiled. He wasn't wearing the formal toga, but wore a tunic of light blue silk. Around his neck was a thin gold chain from which dangled a small yellow horn. Beside him was a huge dwarf, maybe five foot tall, gold skinned, and muscled like a mul. He wore a simple tunic, but carried a big steel sword strapped to his back.

"You have message for me slave?" Darus said lazily.

I bowed low. "I do lord, although I am no slave." I kept my gaze down.

Darus chuckled. "Freeman, slave, there is so little difference. This had better not be a waste of my time." I trembled. Darus of course could have any man, free or unfree, killed on his estate. Who would gainsay him? Who would investigate?

With a shacking hand I held out the baton. He popped off the end and pulled out the scroll. Writing was forbidden to all but nobles or templars, although in practice merchants were permitted their account codes and were frequently literate. And, of course, people like me who forge documents are literate.

He unrolled the scroll and read it. "Do you know what this says?"

"I'm merely a messenger, lord," I said careful to keep my eyes down and my thoughts humble. Fooling a mindbender wasn't impossible if one projected the right surface thoughts. "I was told to bring back any reply."

"I will see to that. Where is your employer?"

"I don't know lord. He found me. He knew who I was. He paid me three ceramics to carry the message and promised me four more to bring a return message."

"His name?"

"I don't know. He wore a veil lord." That was the bait, of course. Darus was buying magic and by writing a note that implied someone had magic for sale and then having evidence suggest that the person was really a member of the outlawed Veiled Alliance made this all the more plausible. Who else was likely to be so secretive, need money, and have magic for sale than that cabal of sorcerers.

He took the bait, of course. Greed is such a reliable emotion. He wrote a scroll of his own and then placed it in the baton. He handed it to me. "Go quickly." I bowed and allowed myself to be hustled out of the house. The first part of the plan had gone beautifully.

[Ford Prefect]

Interesting, but I don't know the source material. Where's this set?

[Imperial Overlord]

Interesting, but I don't know the source material. Where's this set?

The world of Athas, a D&D campaign setting known for being tough, gritty, and having had Lynn Abbey write three novels set there. Immortal sorcerer-kings rule city-states that dominate the last few verdant regions of the Tablelands. Psionics are common, life is hard, and metal is rare. Men and women try to survive and prosper the best they can and a few ambitious fools even have dreams of making things better.

[LadyTevar]

The world is better known as "Dark Sun".

And you know I play in Faerun far too often when I read "40 gold" for the price and thought 'What?! That's so cheap!' before I remembered how rare metal was in Athas. To get the right idea, add two zeros and make it platnium.

[Lindar]

*claps* i like this, please continue

[Imperial Overlord]

I retired to my house, removed my messenger clothes and the wadding I used to puff up my cheeks and slept. The next day I ate a simple breakfast, did exercises, and bartered in the markets while telling stories and selling information. Mid afternoon I retired to my house for the next part of the plan.

The bait had been taken and I know controlled the time of the next meeting. They had seen a harmless labourer and dismissed him as they had done throughout their lives and I had no intent of disabusing them. I took out another piece of paper and then opened my pots to blend a very special ink. This one wouldn't dry completely and would be slightly sticky, the sign of poor work. I took out my brush and painted an acceptance of Darus's offer and then carefully rolled up the scroll and placed it in the baton, being careful to get none of the ink on me.

I had gone into the house the last time with only a bone dagger. Now was the time for killing. I concealed a slim steel blade under the leather bracer on my left arm. In the bottom of the baton went my bard's friend, four linked metal rings to be worn over my fingers, each one topped with a steel razor. It was poisoned, of course, but the blade were wrapped in thick cloth so it wouldn't rattle and I wouldn't cut myself. Two small poison darts went into my belt, along with a small clay pot.

It was almost sunset. I hustled through the gates of Balic in my messenger garb and down the dusty road to the Theronus estate. As I had planned, it was well past dark by the time I arrived. The gates were closed and neither of the gate guards recognized me.

"I have an urgent message for your lord," I said in mock despair. "He would want to see it. Please, call upon someone in authority and ask."

The scarred human scowled, but rung a bell. It was the safe course of action, passing the responsibility, and the potential whipping, of on someone else. The red haired woman showed up and bade them to open the gate. I was in.

She showed me inside, but waited. A house slave, a boy about twelve years old, showed me to his master. It was late enough that most had retired to their beds. A few lamps and candles provided feeble illumination. Darus was sitting alone at the long table in his dining room. His household had left, but the noble was still drinking wine and picking at pieces of food. The dwarf bodyguard stood in the shadows nearby.

"L-lord, I have the reply." I trembled slightly while extending the baton. He took it angrily from my hands and hastily unrolled the scroll. It tended to curl, which meant that he had to hold it down and that meant ink on his hands. Soporific laced ink, soporific that could seep through the skin.

His drunkenness helped, part of the reason that I chose this hour of night. Sleepy, half drunk, and full of anticipation. This profession is so much easier if you allow your mark to do the work for you.

It wouldn't act immediately, of course. It would take time. Darus sent the boy for pen and ink to write his response to the phantom sorcerer's acceptance of Darus's offer. The boy returned shortly and Darus began to write. I waited for him to finish. His eyes were drooping. Not long now.

He rolled up the note and stuck it in the baton. I bowed and accepted it. Darus dismissed me with a wave of his hand. The boy came with me to show me out. His bad luck.

I waited until we were out of sight and stumbled. Well, not really, but it did give me the opportunity to covertly draw my blade and jab it into his ear as I rose up. He twitched in my hands as I put his body into the hall closet next to us, whipped my arms on some linens, and closed the door. Scouting the route beforehand is a beautiful thing. The killing and disposal had only taken moments and made almost no noise. So far so good.

I waited a few heartbeats and headed back towards lord Darus. I opened the bottom of the baton, took out the bard's friend, and put it on my left hand. I crept forward.

His bodyguard was half lifting him up as the good lord could barely stay upright. Dwarves can see very well in the dark, but he wasn't looking at me. Holding his lord half erect and helping him walk took a lot of effort. He could kill me with a word by shouting for the guard, although escape was impossible. I snuck up behind him, silent as a hunting cat.

I punched him in the back of the neck. Blood spurted from the blade wounds and he staggered, but didn't fall. He dropped his lord and turned. I raked my bard's friend across his face, slicing up his left cheek and destroying the eye. He was faster than I expected and seized my wrist before I could manage another strike. His grip was like stone.

I stood there, stunned for a second. I was being held fast by a dwarf who had blood shooting from his neck and poison pumping in his veins. He reached for my neck with his free hand. I caught his wrist. I wasn't strong enough. He gripped my throat.

I let his wrist go and and went for my belt knife, which is what he should have done but the blood loss was probably interfering with his thinking. I buried the blade in his upper arm and twisted. His limb spasmed and fell limp. Even dwarves have limits. I stabbed him in the chest and he went limp.

I walked over to his master who was know entirely asleep and put the knife through his eye. I relieved him of the talisman and washed rinsed off the blood with a pitcher of water. I didn't have much time and leaving out the front would be bad. I hadn't anticipated getting this much blood on me.

There was a back door from the nearby kitchen to the middens and it was barred. I swung open the bar and out into the darkness. Only Raj was visible in the night sky, Guthay apparently having decided to hide her face.

I ran to the wall which was old, weathered, and cracked. My bard's friend and agile fingers found sufficient cracks. I pulled myself up and over and into the night. I left the Theronus estate and the dead behind, hiding my scent trail with a pungent chemical mix.

When I entered Balic the next day it was without my bloodstained over tunic, short beard, cheek wading, or baton. It didn't go as smoothly as I would have liked, but the mark of a true professional is to adapt to misfortune and not be ruled by it.

[Lindar]

*hrmms* Ok so he got the item, but that doesn't mean that he's going to get paid...

besides what does the talisman do anyway?

[Imperial Overlord]

I retired to my house and ate ravenously. After devouring half a loaf and a handful of sausages. I cleaned up the crude shaving job from earlier and changed into a long tunic with embroidered hems. A knife went into my belt and I hid a steel blade. I was ready to go out.

I walked back to the house of Bevenalt. After waiting for a few minutes I was ushered into his presence. He was wearing a simple tunic and sitting at his table with a plate of spiced eggs in front of him. His dark beard was short and neat, his hair was arrayed in braids.

He stared at me for a moment. "You look different. A useful skill in your profession I suppose."

"It's done."

"Excellent. My agents have detected some . . . . upheaval on the Theronus estate. You have the talisman."

"Not with me. You get it after I'm paid."

His face darkened. "The talisman is what I'm paying for."

"And now you are much closer to it. Let me be blunt: certain people at this particular juncture feel is cheaper to kill the assassin."

"I am uninterested in your paranoia. Deliver to me what is mine."

"It will be delivered to you as soon as you have paid for it. I am not such a fool that I would attempt to cheat you, but the reputation that proceeds you is less than favorable."

He took it with ill grace. "If you try to cheat me-"

"You can have me killed. Probably true and a lot less costly than what my service cost you. I know you'll expend the effort over the talisman. I don't think you'll do it over forty golds."

"Very well. Wait here." He rose from the table and left the room. He returned a few minutes latter with a heavy purse and handed it to me before resuming his seat.

I looked inside. Gold alright. I focused on it. Mundane with no sign of sorcerous aura. "The talisman will be in your hands before nightfall."

I was promptly ushered out. After a few wrong turns and checking to make sure I wasn't followed or sorcery was being used on me, I returned to my house. I cached the gold and recovered the talisman. I braved Balic's streets once again and returned to Benevalt's house. I gave the talisman to the door slave. "Your master wants this rather urgently." He pulled the bell beside him, but I was already leaving. It was just another day under the sun.

[LadyTevar]

Good to see that the exchange was made without more blood needing shed. A nice little story, my friend.

[White Haven]

Meh. Proper style would have been for the defiler to go get the moeny, find the talisman where forty gold should have been, and come back to find the assassin gone. *grins*

Seriously though, you've got me intrigued to see where this is going, if it's more than a short.

[Imperial Overlord]

Meh. Proper style would have been for the defiler to go get the moeny, find the talisman where forty gold should have been, and come back to find the assassin gone. *grins*

Seriously though, you've got me intrigued to see where this is going, if it's more than a short.

Nah, its just a short. And the assassin isn't a wanktasticily good thief otherwise he would be stealing instead of murdering. He's a pretty good thief, but he wouldn't bet his prowess against the magics in a sorcerers home without very good reason.

[White Haven]

Yeah, I got that feeling, I was just being silly.