Shaddar stares at the sweating figure sitting before him. Vicacili can not return his stare and casts his eyes downward.
The man speaks, “Will you allow me to join your organization?”
“Let me think on that for a few hours,” Shaddar says slowly.
“In the meantime, put him with the other prisoners,” he says to Toothsnatcher. Tell Loolipo to allow him to freely converse with the others and examine the bodies of his worthless lackeys. I wish him to experience and learn while he waits – such that he will fully appreciate the stupidity of his insulting assault upon my person and those under my dominion.” The minotaur grunts and jerks the man up out of his seat, by the neck. As Vicacili is hustled out of the room, he cries out, but wisely says no more.
Shaddar spends a few moments savoring the roiling and churning thoughts of the “special agent to the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains.” Ha! If this is an example of their specialist then his plans will proceed much faster than he initially believed.
Toying with the creature when he had no clue that his every thought was being dissected during the interrogation was a rare treat. Since none in this city seem to know what he is, none of them know about his profound mental abilities. He resolves to keep it that way for as long as possible. What an advantage it gives him!
He spends a few moments scanning the thoughts of the humans on the first floor to see how they weathered the little spat.
Widow Cottondur and her daughters heard most of the conversation between Hawke and Vicacili, but not what happened after Shaddar entered the mix. The two young women heard the crashing sounds of people falling down the stairs and wanted to go help, but their mother forbid them. The noises of heavy bodies being dragged up the stairs and soft cursing from someone cleaning up did nothing to ally widow Cottondur’s fears.
Hawke is very disturbed by all of the noises he heard, but is somewhat relieved to hear his minions cleaning things up – he has deduced that the threat of the pack of villains has been neutralized somehow, but he is almost afraid to know exactly how it was done. He heard the initial conversation between Shaddar and Vicacili in the hallway, but sat in the inexplicable silence after the door was shut.
Shaddar is content to leave them to their thoughts and worries for now. He will deal with them in a few hours as well.
He takes Toothsnatcher upstairs and visits with the hobgoblins. For two hours he observes their strength training and basic hand-to-hand drills that Kug has developed for them. All is proceeding quite well. He sends the minotaur to take his shift guarding the prisoners and Loolipo goes to bed.
From time to time he wanders down to see how the work is progressing with Cutt’s alchemical brewing of the blinding poison. The thrall is quite happy in his work and expresses his thanks to Shaddar for allowing him to experiment with some of his radical hypotheses of the effects of various ingredients upon human biology. Shaddar is pleased that he will gain further utility from this activity than just the initial benefits.
Around the lunch hour, Shaddar notes that the widow and her daughters are preparing to leave. He listens to the whispered conversation she has with her employer.
“Hawke, I don’t know what you’re into here – no let me finish! As I said, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I do know this: It’s not a good environment for my sweet girls.”
Hawke agrees in the same low tones, “You’re right. And I’m glad you feel that way. I want you to take this money and don’t come back. Don’t come back until I send word.”
“Oh, Hawke! What are you into now? Will you be alright?”
“I don’t know,” the man says despondently, “but that’s none of your concern. Take the girls and be safe – I’ll sleep better knowing that you are all out of it, at least.”
“But what about you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Now, listen. You won’t be safe unless you say absolutely nothing to anyone about the odd things you may have heard or even what you just suspect. It’s not safe – not for you and especially not for me. What I want you to do is tell anyone who asks that I had to let you go from my employ because business is so poor. Now go on and be happy.”
The widow calls to her daughters and they mournfully leave the meadhall, thinking that they will never return. Good. That simplifies Shaddar’s arrangements greatly.
Cutt strides proudly into his room, holding a small vial of ugly, black liquid. “Here it is! No guarantee on how fast it will work or what some of the side-effects will be, but I have my hopes!” He has a parchment and quill in the other hand. “I’ll be taking notes on what impact the mixture has as it works – this will help me refine the recipe, should you want more.”
“Good. You may observe, but then I want you to finish cleaning the mess as I previously ordered,” Shaddar broadcasts. The gnome’s face falls, but Shaddar is already moving his thoughts elsewhere.
“Toothsnatcher? Bring the human Vicacili down to the bar at once. I have a promise to keep.”
Shaddar and Cutt walk up to the bar that Hawke is needlessly polishing and wait. Shaddar has the gnome lock the doors and shutter the windows so that they will not be disturbed.
Hawke nods in greeting, but says nothing, even though he is burning with curiosity about what happened. But he is more afraid of Shaddar than ever and will not speak unless he is spoken to. The sounds of the locks being thrown and shutters closing sound quite ominous. Very fitting for the mood Shaddar wishes to create.
Toothsnatcher brings Vicacili up to the bar and Shaddar looks at him carefully. The man seems to have aged several years in just a few hours. He shakes as though he has had no food for days. His thoughts are filled with the things he learned in talking to the weak and hopeless meat-creatures that Shaddar has stored away for later meals. Vicacili is fast approaching his own limits of extreme sensation and will soon snap if Shaddar doesn’t allow him some kind of emotional relief. Unfortunately for him, this is not very likely…
He mentally commands Toothsnatcher to hold Vicacili firmly so he will not move.
Shaddar speaks cheerfully, “Hawke, pour this gentleman a drink, please! I believe you know him? A Vicacili?”
Hawke raises an eyebrow, and nods, ever so slightly. He doesn’t know what kind of deal Vicacili made, but gets out a glass and fills it with dark ale at Shaddar’s order. He pushes it halfway towards the Vicacili, but Shaddar leaves it there in the middle of the bar.
“I have some interesting news for you, Hawke,” Shaddar leans on one elbow to tilt his head closer to the blind man. “Vicacili was very forthcoming! I learned a great deal of information, in fact. Including some information about you and your past.”
Hawke looks startled, as does Vicacili, who said nothing of the sort. Hawke speaks carefully, “My past, Boss?”
“Your blindness was not an accident or a result of natural causes, Hawke.”
Hawke’s mouth drops open in uncomprehending disbelief. “What do you mean?”
Shaddar turns to Vicacili and says in a jovial, hearty manner, “Why don’t you tell Hawke what you told me? Or rather – what you know about this matter.” Shaddar applies his mental power behind the command – making the man feel as if telling the truth of this affair is what he wants to do.
Shaddar continues to speak, bearing his will over Vicacili’s own, “And be honest. Tell him everything.”
“Yes, sir,” Vicacili says obediently, but his eyes are focused on the drink in the middle of the bar.
Vicacili clears his throat and begins. “There are rumors. Rumors that the Guildmaster had someone poison you, Hawke. With a blinding poison.”
Shaddar can feel the man fighting to carry out only enough of his command as he must. Shaddar refocuses his will and prompts: “And who was the person who administered the poison, Vicacili?”
Vicacili groans before he answers, a bead of sweat tracking down his forehead, “Uh…”
Hawke interrupts, “The Guildmaster ordered it? But why?”
“Because you were capable and ambitious. You were a threat to the Guildmaster’s power. It was thought that you were laying a case to begin the trial of challenge!”
Hawke snorts, “Why would I want that job? No, I only wanted to be the captain of extortion – that’s what I liked, you see.”
“Oh,” Vicacili says with genuine regret, “That’s most displeasing for me to hear…”
Hawke’s face hardens as he considers the implications of what he has heard and he asks, “Who did it? Who did this to me, Vicacili?”
Vicacili trembles with the effort to resist the mental force being applied to him, but it is useless to resist the power of a focused illithid!
“I have… often been the favorite for the Guildmaster… when there is a need for poisons to be administered. I always try to do so without any undue pain for the subjects, however! I must confess… that it was I who put the poison into your drink, Hawke.” Vicacili’s eyes are now riveted onto the lonely looking tankard of ale sitting in the center of the bar.
Hawke’s thoughts are complex. There is an element of shock to his thoughts, but not as much as Shaddar would have expected – the human is surprisingly resilient. He is bitterly angry, naturally enough, but also confused as to why Shaddar would bring this information to his attention. “Is it just to torment me, I wonder? What good does it do to know this? Has the Boss made a deal with Vicacili, and now I am to work with the man who blinded me? Who knows what twisted ideas he has in store for me?”
“Well, Hawke,” Shaddar says softly, “you know me a cruel master, I am certain. However, I can be just. I can produce favorable situations for those under my dominion. And now I will give you the chance to exact revenge on this poor, sickening fool.” He pauses to allow this notion to sink in, “I allow you to choose this man’s punishment. It is in your hands. I will merely carry out whatever you dictate.”
Shaddar slaps the bar lightly with one hand and explains the options as he sees them. “He can go free, at your word,” he says expansively.
“You may administer (eye for an eye, if you will!) this poisoned drink that will painfully remove his eyesight.” Shaddar pops the cork from the vial of poison and pours it slowly, seductively into the ale. Vicacili whimpers as he realizes that the Boss is keeping his word to him, just as he promised.
Shaddar pulls Vicacili’s own dagger from beneath his robes and draws it. “Or you may use this implement to take a most… direct path to justice, shall we say?” He drops the dagger onto the bar next to the drink. The metal rings as the naked blade touches the polished wood.
“I am done with this man, so he is yours to deal with, Hawke. Take your time, as it pleases you. We will all await your choice.”
When he stops speaking it is deathly still in the meadhall. No one moves. No one speaks.
Shaddar is most curious as to what Hawke will do now. Will the man rebel against him in this? Will he embrace the villain within? Will he seal his fate to Shaddar’s most completely by murdering Vicacili?
This is a most entertaining game!
To maximize his enjoyment of this profound moment, Shaddar resists the temptation of peeking into Hawke’s thoughts and waits with the others to see what will happen. His tentacles remain quite still, only twitching slightly at the very tips periodically as his feelings of excitement and anticipation are made manifest.
Hawke remains silent for several minutes. His face shows nothing, but Shaddar knows the man must be weighing his options carefully...
Hawke whispers into the silence and it sounds as loud as a banshee’s wail, “Drink up, Vicacili.”
Shaddar’s tentacles writhe with sudden activity. Vicacili tries to scream, but Toothsnatcher’s reflexes allow him to grab him by the throat as he inhales.
The minotaur forces his head back and pours the drink down his throat, closing his mouth and pinching his nose periodically to force the man to swallow.
Shaddar speaks softly over the noise of Vicacili’s struggles: “Hawke, I must say that your choice pleases me. Of course, no matter what you selected I would have honored it. You know this, do you not?”
Hawke nods with a slight smile on his face.
Toothsnatcher finishes administering the poisoned drink and allows Vicacili to fall to the ground. The man is writhing in convulsions and moaning wretchedly.
Cutt claps his hands and climbs onto a barstool, setting up parchment and quill in order to document the effects of his work. He mutters under his breath as he writes, “Note the rosy cheeks? That’s the needlethorn that’s done that! I knew it! Ooo! The blotches’ll be coming up next, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Hawke speaks quietly, “Boss, I’ll admit that I’ve not seen your arrival but as a curse, but I may have been hasty in that. I suspected that this might have happened, but I never thought I would get vengeance for it.” His thoughts continue, “The Boss has kept his word to me. He has offered support and given it. He has stepped in to save me from these thugs. He has been far more fair to me than the Guild of Villains ever was!” He continues to speak, “For good or ill, I’m a willing member of your band, Boss. We’ve no choice but to win now and I’ll do what I can to help.”
Shaddar is immensely satisfied. This was precisely the outcome he had hoped for. Hawke has gone from an uncertain factor to a good minion. Excellent.
Cutt continues his verbal diagnosis: “The pink tint to the foam coming from his mouth? That be some rose lips I added for color. What’s this? Blood seeping from his nose? I didn’t expect that! Must be some sinus damage. Hmm… the crushed worm crystals? Most likely, most likely…”
Hawke listens with a satisfied smirk to the litany of woes his enemy is suffering.
“Note the tremors! Yes, the poison begins to attack the nerves! Hee-hee! Oh, I knew it would work!” He pauses with a frown. “Well, I might as well go get the bucket and clean up while he screams – this is going to take hours.”
Hawke chuckles, “You can just leave him right there. I’ll just stand here and listen, while I think about things.”
“What things, Hawke?” Shaddar asks, his tentacles writhing with pleasure.
He can see that Hawke’s thoughts are filled with renewed ambition and fresh desires to not only gain revenge, but to live the life he had before it was taken from him. A zest for life that amazingly has been restored to him by the unexpected benefactor of… The Boss. He feels like his whole world has shifted, taking him in an impossible direction.
“The rules with you are different,” Hawke says slowly, “but you do have them. And I like ‘em, Boss. I like ‘em.”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 30 Chapter 32 >
No comments:
Post a Comment