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Fob was true to his word as Cort hiked up on the dust hadn't even heard me coming. I pulled my blade. His name was Regret because any he met felt so. Cort began to stammer. Then I heard him say he didn't have it. Then I heard him say he'd give it to me and gold if I let him go. Then I heard him beg for mercy. When I started, I heard his screams.
Fob was true to his word as Cort hiked up on the dust hadn't even heard me coming. I pulled my blade. His name was Regret because any he met felt so. Cort began to stammer. Then I heard him say he didn't have it. Then I heard him say he'd give it to me and gold if I let him go. Then I heard him beg for mercy. When I started, I heard his screams.


I laid the bloody sack on Krech's desk. He grimaced as he looked inside and moved it to the floor beside his desk. The item needed, also in a sack, was also placed on his desk. He smiled at the sight of that one. He then laid the agreed upon sack of coins before me as well as another note. Another so soon I thought, but I opened it and read the name. "Don't know this one," I said. Krech said, "I have it on good authority she frequents Darklane." I looked down again at the note and read the name Tristesse.
I laid the bloody sack on Krech's desk. He grimaced as he looked inside and moved it to the floor beside his desk. The item needed, also in a sack, was also placed on his desk. He smiled at the sight of that one. He then laid the agreed upon sack of coins before me as well as another note. Another so soon I thought, but I opened it and read the name. "Don't know this one," I said. Krech said, "I have it on good authority she frequents Darklane." I looked down again at the note and read the name: Tristesse.
 
Krech waves his pudgy hands.  “Slinks says the job is to find her.  You get full price for that – where she lives, where she works, who she knows.”
 
Krech looks about to see if anyone’s in hearing distance, then leans in towards Delain, motioning for him to get closer.
 
Delain takes a deep breath and leans in.
 
“But here’s where it gets weird.  He says if you can keep tabs on her, maybe even make friends, there’s even more.  Like, regular payments.  Just for a tag-along.  Can you figure that?”
 
Krech leans back, freeing his ample stomach again.  His licks his lips which then pull back into that ugly sneer of a smile, revealing teeth that are screaming to be put out of their misery.
 
“Mebbe you’ll be more than friends, eh?”
 
. . .
 
Delaine knew that in Blackport that if you weren’t with a gang, you were little people in the crime business.  And little people got used, enslaved, or squashed.  Sometimes all three.
 
He had watched the urchins he ran with as a child try, and saw the results. 
 
Ebbu’s first freelance job – burgling a small shop in Crossbones - resulted in a beating by members of the Wharf Rats that left him with a permanent stutter and limp – poor bastard worked in Bonedust now helping process the defeated human warrior bodies from the Arena for the Ogre, Orc, and Goblin markets. 
 
The ill-named Lucky had tried pickpocketing in the Bazaar.  That one got him sideways with the Sons of The Tiger; they sold him as a slave to the mistress of Crethissis’ Gardens, a Pleasure House in the Circus that was infamous, even by Blackport standards.  Never heard from Lucky again.  If he was truly Lucky, he died quickly.
 
And so it went. 
 
When he was old enough, he applied to The Red & Blacks, who ran things out of the lower levels below Fortune’s Wheel, a gambling den in Red Lantern.  They were a strong gang – strong enough that they could hold their own against the others.  The Guildmaster, a boss named Slinks, had a reputation of being even-handed and even generous sometimes with his soldiers.  Word was, it was an organization that didn’t micro-manage too much – don’t break the rules, and you could pursue your own interests as long as the kickbacks flowed up the chain. 
 
That suited him just fine.
 
He was apprenticed to Knucks, a soldier in the crew of a street boss, Beznik “Coins” Favell.  He ran gambling, burglary, racketeering, and street-theft in territory that straddled Red Lantern and Charsoot.  They didn’t make it easy, but they rewarded him when he put in the work, showed initiative, and the ability to both plan and to improvise.
 
He showed aptitude for a number of things, including confidence games and muscle work. 
 
It took a few years, but he gradually earned the respect of Knucks and Beznik. 
 
When he asked to be a full member, they agreed to bring him forward.
 
It must have passed, because three days later, he got his initiation assignment.
 
Muscle work.  He had to take out a punk called Scuds – a full member in the Sons of the Tiger. 
 
Scuds had cut the throat of a Red & Blacks apprentice without cause, apparently just didn’t like the poor kids face.  It wasn’t the first time Scuds had disrespected them, but apparently the boss of The Tigers had no intention of doing anything about it. 
 
So something had to be done.  But done clean – they couldn’t afford to start a full street war over newbs who weren’t even brothers yet. 
They made sure he understood - if it was traced back to him, he’d be hung out to dry with the Tigers.  And that would be bad.
Delain timed it well. 
 
The girl he had hired led Scuds outside the arena into the alley just as the cart with the bodies from the first round of fights was being rolled out. 
 
He never saw it coming.
 
Scuds ended up on that cart, headed for Bonedust, where he was butchered up like the rest.
 
The humanoids of Goblintown, Grunt, Spearaxe, and the Maw took care of it from there. 
 
A week later, he was voted in as a full brother of The Red and Blacks.

Revision as of 16:50, 22 February 2025

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Image from https://nocturne-4.obsidianportal.com/characters/delain

A man whose only purpose is the next job & a good time.

Delain Character Sheet

Background

I looked down at the note and nodded. "Ya got a set tonight Delain?," the fat man asked. I grinned and nodded, "Krech, my friend, I've got sets all nights. Some even involve singing and playing." The fat man laughed as he adjusted his ample girth in the seat, "He's hiding out in Slag and he's got a couple flies covering his ass, so be prepared," said as he placed the bag of coins before me, "Oh and Slinks wants his head in addition to the item. Double payment on delivery." "Not a problem," I gave him the smile that had made my groupies melt. It had less of an effect on Krech.

I had a gig at in Darklane later that night and mentally ticked off my set list as I made my way to Slag, a dive of miners and minors, if your taste ran to such things. Mine didn't, but I knew many who did. I followed the directions Krech had given to a low-rent inn called The Pick and Choose, that sold rooms for a few coppers generally by the hour. I pulled my hooded cloak tight and checked the loaded hand crossbows that were chained to my belt at my waist, after applying the poison to the bolts of course. I made sure that the cloak hid them as I strode into the inn.

Slippery Fob was at the desk. I knew him well and knew he'd sell his sister for a few coppers. I took a gold sovereign out and laid it out before Fob whose hand reached out to grab it like a frog's tongue shooting out for a fly. Fob liked the Kafta Dust, something I myself had a fondness for before I got clean, so the sovereign would keep him supplied for several weeks. As he reached for it, my hand fired out like bolt and grabbed his wrist as I whispered, "I need Cort's room number and where his two crockers are, "Tell me true and there will be another for you." The thought of two golds was enough to make old Fob shake and begin to salivate. In a whispery voice he said, "Up the stairs at the end of the hall. The crockers are in the rooms on either side of the hall before you get there." I nodded and started for the stairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs and started to move I threw back my cloak and grabbed the bow on the right. That one was named Penance. As I reached the first crocker's door the floorboards creaked and the door suddenly opened a crack as one blue eye looked from the other side. I fired a bolt into that blue eye and let Penance drop, feeling the familiar smack as the empty bow fell back into its place. I then reached for the other. His name was Absolution.

After Absolution released the other crocker from his obligation I moved for the final door at the end of the hall. No time for subtly now, the Rondeau had begun. I began my song and with one booted foot kicked down the rickety door.

Fob was true to his word as Cort hiked up on the dust hadn't even heard me coming. I pulled my blade. His name was Regret because any he met felt so. Cort began to stammer. Then I heard him say he didn't have it. Then I heard him say he'd give it to me and gold if I let him go. Then I heard him beg for mercy. When I started, I heard his screams.

I laid the bloody sack on Krech's desk. He grimaced as he looked inside and moved it to the floor beside his desk. The item needed, also in a sack, was also placed on his desk. He smiled at the sight of that one. He then laid the agreed upon sack of coins before me as well as another note. Another so soon I thought, but I opened it and read the name. "Don't know this one," I said. Krech said, "I have it on good authority she frequents Darklane." I looked down again at the note and read the name: Tristesse.

Krech waves his pudgy hands. “Slinks says the job is to find her. You get full price for that – where she lives, where she works, who she knows.”

Krech looks about to see if anyone’s in hearing distance, then leans in towards Delain, motioning for him to get closer.

Delain takes a deep breath and leans in.

“But here’s where it gets weird. He says if you can keep tabs on her, maybe even make friends, there’s even more. Like, regular payments. Just for a tag-along. Can you figure that?”

Krech leans back, freeing his ample stomach again. His licks his lips which then pull back into that ugly sneer of a smile, revealing teeth that are screaming to be put out of their misery.

“Mebbe you’ll be more than friends, eh?”

. . .

Delaine knew that in Blackport that if you weren’t with a gang, you were little people in the crime business. And little people got used, enslaved, or squashed. Sometimes all three.

He had watched the urchins he ran with as a child try, and saw the results.

Ebbu’s first freelance job – burgling a small shop in Crossbones - resulted in a beating by members of the Wharf Rats that left him with a permanent stutter and limp – poor bastard worked in Bonedust now helping process the defeated human warrior bodies from the Arena for the Ogre, Orc, and Goblin markets.

The ill-named Lucky had tried pickpocketing in the Bazaar. That one got him sideways with the Sons of The Tiger; they sold him as a slave to the mistress of Crethissis’ Gardens, a Pleasure House in the Circus that was infamous, even by Blackport standards. Never heard from Lucky again. If he was truly Lucky, he died quickly.

And so it went.

When he was old enough, he applied to The Red & Blacks, who ran things out of the lower levels below Fortune’s Wheel, a gambling den in Red Lantern. They were a strong gang – strong enough that they could hold their own against the others. The Guildmaster, a boss named Slinks, had a reputation of being even-handed and even generous sometimes with his soldiers. Word was, it was an organization that didn’t micro-manage too much – don’t break the rules, and you could pursue your own interests as long as the kickbacks flowed up the chain.

That suited him just fine.

He was apprenticed to Knucks, a soldier in the crew of a street boss, Beznik “Coins” Favell. He ran gambling, burglary, racketeering, and street-theft in territory that straddled Red Lantern and Charsoot. They didn’t make it easy, but they rewarded him when he put in the work, showed initiative, and the ability to both plan and to improvise.

He showed aptitude for a number of things, including confidence games and muscle work.

It took a few years, but he gradually earned the respect of Knucks and Beznik.

When he asked to be a full member, they agreed to bring him forward.

It must have passed, because three days later, he got his initiation assignment.

Muscle work. He had to take out a punk called Scuds – a full member in the Sons of the Tiger.

Scuds had cut the throat of a Red & Blacks apprentice without cause, apparently just didn’t like the poor kids face. It wasn’t the first time Scuds had disrespected them, but apparently the boss of The Tigers had no intention of doing anything about it.

So something had to be done. But done clean – they couldn’t afford to start a full street war over newbs who weren’t even brothers yet. They made sure he understood - if it was traced back to him, he’d be hung out to dry with the Tigers. And that would be bad. Delain timed it well.

The girl he had hired led Scuds outside the arena into the alley just as the cart with the bodies from the first round of fights was being rolled out.

He never saw it coming.

Scuds ended up on that cart, headed for Bonedust, where he was butchered up like the rest.

The humanoids of Goblintown, Grunt, Spearaxe, and the Maw took care of it from there.

A week later, he was voted in as a full brother of The Red and Blacks.