The sorting of the loot collected by his thralls is going to be a somewhat lengthy task. The minotaur kept on mugging people until he felt burdened by the weight of the stolen goods – which is a vast weight, since he’s a such big lad!
Shaddar gives orders and the lesser beings begin their labors. As they get to work he pockets the 60 gems that were collected as well as a fat purse of the local currency to carry with him from the hundreds of gold, silver, and copper coins. It is quite unimportant to know exactly how much money he has, because he can always send his thralls out to gather more of it!
While the thralls and minions are sorting and counting the remainder of the loot, Shaddar walks about to examine the building that he has control of now. There is a main hall with a long bar. Behind this is a kitchen and storeroom. A large pot of stew is simmering near the fire and Shaddar quickly deduces that Hawke must employ others to cook for him and perhaps do other tasks as well. He walks back out of this room to inquire about it.
“From the aroma, it is clear that you cook a fine stew, Hawke!”
The man snorts. “I’m not the cook! I’d be burning my fingers in the fire all day.”
“Then who – ?”
“Widow Cottondur and her two daughters.” Shaddar picks up a bit more information from the man’s thoughts. Apparently, the widow is a cook and her two daughters wash up and serve food and drinks. They arrive each day in the morning, stay until early afternoon, and then return to their home somewhere in the slums. Supper is always a stew, since it can be fixed with the midday meal and served without trouble by the blind man while they are away.
“And how much do you pay this excellent chef?”
Hawke looks offended by the question and merely grunts in reply. His thoughts give the answers that Shaddar seeks, “Three silvers a day for the widow and another two for the pair of girls. It’s a fine wage, but why in the Realm would he care what I pay my help? I don’t like how this fellow sticks his nose in my private business, no I surely don’t…”
Shaddar turns from Hawke and picks up a finely woven basket from the loot. He fills it with several costly trinkets and bracelets. Three silken wraps also go into the basket. On top of these items, he places a handful of gold coins. Basket in hand, Shaddar returns to Hawke and sets it on the bar.
“Hawke, I am deeply impressed with the work of these most excellent ladies. Tomorrow when they arrive, you will give this gift to them with my compliments. Express to them my desire that they continue their good work. Nothing should be altered in their arrangements or routines!”
Hawke feels around the basket’s contents for a moment and realizes almost instantly what it is. His thoughts please Shaddar greatly, “So ‘the Boss’ is going to bribe my workers into silence, eh? Well, that’s for the best. I like Widow Cottondur – wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her or her girls because of this villain. And they could use the gold, sure enough. I’ll make sure they understand what they must do, but not why. That’s the best course.” The man nods briskly.
Satisfied that this matter has been taken care of, Shaddar returns to his inspection of the building and its grounds while making further plans.
In the back of the meadhall there is a patio area fitted for outside dining. There is a high wall around this patio, and Shaddar can see no overlooking windows or gaps in the wall. Very private. The patio area will be transformed into an exercise yard. Toothsnatcher will be useful in rearranging the area to his liking with target dummies and a clear space for practicing maneuvers.
He spends a moment pondering the minotaur and the thoughts he has scanned since their arrival to this new location. Raised by an outcast female in the Underdark, he was captured when Felinxtrath killed his mother. He is not well educated as a result of his isolated upbringing, but his survival and physical skills are excellent. Years of servitude have weakened his initial hostility to illithids in general and he actually feels a slight kinship with Shaddar in their shared hatred of his ex-master. Now that the butcher of his mother is dead, the thrall feels quite happy about working for Shaddar. Besides this there are two reasons for the minotaur’s current contentment: the maze-like area of the border zone alleys feels more like home than anything he has experienced before, and bullying and beating smaller creatures is always fun.
Shaddar moves on in his exploration. Next to the patio area is a small stable, currently unoccupied. He is pleased. The small stable will be turned into an archery range.
“I will be able to make excellent use of this area – once it has been properly modified, of course,” he thinks.
Loolipo is the ideal candidate for converting the stable into an archery range. Kuo-toa settlements are quite often raided and Loolipo was collected during one of these ‘harvests’. Unlike many of the others captured, her dexterous skills with the pincher staff and bow caused her to be taken as a thrall instead of being a light snack for some deserving mindflayer as were the rest of her fellow captives. Yes, she will do nicely as an archery instructor for his future army.
Shaddar returns to the interior of the meadhall and explores the remainder of the ground floor. There are several other rooms on the main floor that look like they could be used as rooms for tenants. He decides that these rooms will be used to for the drow when they arrive.
The 2nd floor will be for him and his thralls. Walking upstairs he is amused to see the dropped items and broken objects that are the remnants of Toothsnatcher’s eviction process. There are several rooms on this floor. Shaddar will transform the largest room into his own lair. This happens to be the one that had the recalcitrant boarder in it, which means the door and window will need repairs from where Toothsnatcher broken them apart, but this is a small matter. One room will be converted into an alchemy lab for Cutt.
As much as the gnome is enjoying plying his sharp wit among the populace of this city, the thrall’s true calling lies in alchemy. Shaddar has great plans for putting Cutt’s esoteric skills to use. He resolves to go out with the gnome first thing in the morning to collect the necessary materials for the thrall to begin producing violent substances that will be of great utility.
Finally the 3rd floor: it will be for the coming hobgoblins. Jorin and Bort will also be allowed to retain their current quarters on the top floor. The men have made a big deal about the fact that their room has roof access – trying to make it seem like they sneak out across the rooftops at night. Shaddar has seen that this has never happened from their thoughts. They have they not gone on “daring rooftop escapades”. His tentacles jerk in a gesture of annoyance as he thinks of Jorin’s continual and pointless bragging.
His inspections complete, Shaddar returns to the main hall and rejoins the rest of his group.
Jorin and Bort are beginning to take off their costumes and Jorin asks, “Boss? Why are you and your lads still wearing your illusions? Don’t you want to relax a bit now that the day’s work is done?”
“Ah. You see fellows, this is one of the changes we will be making. To be a member of the Guild of Swashbuckling Rogues, you must stay in character at all times. You never know when your benefactor,” a languid gesture towards his own chest, “is going to require your services or when opportunities will present themselves. You must be ready at all times. It is one of the keys to my success, in fact. Write that down.”
Jorin can’t write! He turns to Bort, “Yes, Bort, er, write that down.” Bort does so with a slight frown on his face. Bort’s thoughts show that he doesn’t believe that the thralls are under any illusionary magic – he handled them when he took their measurements for the outfits they now wear and he thinks that perhaps the thralls and even Shaddar may actually be what they appear to be. He’s not sure what to think about that – he certainly has no idea what any of them are in terms of species. Shaddar is bemused by his befuddlement.
His minions have not been idle during his explorations. The swag has been well-organized. He gives the order to transport all of the goods upstairs to one of the now-empty bedrooms on the second floor. Jorin, Bort, and Cutt begin hauling all of the loot upstairs to be stored.
“We must keep the common areas of the meadhall looking… normal,” Shaddar thinks, “Who knows when Chief Constable Snook, bless his doomed little soul, will stop by again.”
Thoughts of Hawke are interesting. Since the man is blind, he has no idea that Shaddar and his thralls look like monsters, so his mental assumptions are that Shaddar is a congested fellow (moist-sounding when he talks, periodic slurps), that Toothsnatcher is a huge man with a speech impediment or a scar on his throat and massive hob-nailed boots, that Cutt is a midget, and that Loolipo drools constantly (bubbling and popping noises). He is still very upset at the takeover of his place and thinks, “The Heroes can’t get here too soon… And they will! They always seem to show up when they are needed. I can’t believe this: I never thought I’d be looking forward to having a Hero enter my shop! How I hate them! But this ‘Boss’ is so terrible – anything would be better than him!”
Shaddar is curious that the gold hasn’t placated Hawke. Slowly he realizes that because of the rough treatment the man received when he worked under the Guild of Villains, the man hates to be under the authority of anyone else.
“Will his hatred of his new situation cause me any minor difficulty, I wonder? His attitude certainly warrants monitoring.”
It is clear that Hawke understands and resents that the authority that Shaddar wields. It is also clear that the man thinks that should he cross his authority that all he will suffer is a beating at the hands of Toothsnatcher. Well, perhaps he will do that first, but if the man becomes bothersome, then Shaddar will be forced to kill him. He wonders if he should somehow let the human know that the consequences of rebellion will be much more severe than he imagines…
Several times during the cataloging of loot, other patrons try to enter the meadhall to have a brew, but Loolipo enjoys her assignment of turning them elsewhere. As the first loads of ill-gotten goods are taken upstairs, Shaddar senses some men move to enter the building and she bars their path. Shaddar can hear the altercation.
“Closed. Go away.”
“Ugh! Out of our way, you ugly little freak!”
BZAPP!
“Yow!”
Wet, bubbly laughter and the sound of feet running away. Her thoughts are filled with satisfaction and enjoyment at this task.
Hawke has heard this short drama as well and is most displeased: “So how late are you planning on me keeping the bar open? Since your girl with the head-cold is chasing off all my customers?”
“Do not worry. You now have other sources of revenue.”
“I don’t run a pub for the money,” Hawke says with exasperation, “What about the social aspects?”
“Never fear! Soon you will have socializing aplenty!”
“Oh, yes. Your… guests,” Hawke’s voice trails off into incoherent and bitter-sounding mutters.
“Do not sound so upset, friend Hawke! This will soon be transformed into a higher class of institution, which will cater to only a very select group of patrons. They, and only they, will be allowed to enter. You will like them – I promise.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because even if you don’t like them,” Shaddar’s voice becomes icy cold, “you’ll like them.”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 11 Chapter 13 >
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