“A productive day already,” Shaddar thinks as he climbs the stairs to the third floor, “and it is not yet mid-afternoon!” His mind is filled with plans.
If Vicacilli’s spirit is not completely broken after his ordeal is over (and his screams and moans can be faintly heard still – so that moment has not yet arrived), then Shaddar may be able to make further use of the man. He will wait and see if the human’s mind survives, before he makes that decision. And he will need to take into account the desires of Hawke in that determination.
Shaddar is a bit amazed at the mental metamorphosis that has occurred in Hawke. His thought process is subtly different – most likely a reversion to a buried aspect of his personality that withered into insignificance while his talents and aspirations were focused on merely being a blind bartender. It is as if he has become a new man. A man focused on wreaking a terrible revenge against the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains – a goal that Shaddar heartily approves of.
“Nothing like the ‘dark winds of change’ to liven up a man’s spirit,” Shaddar thinks with mirth.
His high spirits fade quickly as he sets foot on the third floor. Jorin and Bort are still having a whispered argument and Shaddar’s anger at the stupidity of Jorin during his interview with the constables is returning.
He mentally listens to them before entering their room for a moment.
Bort is trying in vain to convince his friend that he has blundered. “I’m telling you, Jorin, the Boss is really mad at you.”
“Oh, go on, Bort! Don’t be such an old woman! He didn’t want the constables to come upstairs, and even though you almost bungled it up, I handled ‘em so they didn’t.”
Jorin hisses, “Murder-Most-Foul, Jorin! Didn’t you hear them?”
“Yeah? So? We knew that the Guild had gone into that sort of thing, didn’t we?”
“I don’t know… It’s getting worse…”
Shaddar opens the door, once again without knocking. Both the men jump to their feet guiltily.
“Gentlemen,” Shaddar says coolly, “I gave you some tasks to complete for me yesterday; tasks that were not completed due to the riot. See to these items at once.”
The men begin to gather their things. Despite Jorin’s outward bluster and forced casualness the fool can tell that Shaddar is indeed displeased with him and he doesn’t want to risk his coveted 4%.
Bort speaks with words of reconciliation, “Right away, Boss. We won’t forget to visit more of our pals and try to get them to join up.”
“If they’re good enough,” Jorin adds.
“Yes,” Shaddar says, “Please do.”
As the men leave, Shaddar turns to face them and adds, “One note: Pay no attention to the strange noises you will hear on the second floor. Hawke is dealing with a small task for me and it’s not too quiet, I’m afraid.”
Shaddar watches their thoughts and his tentacles writhe in contemplation when they move past the room that contains the suffering form of Vicacilli. Both of their minds are filled with new questions and fears as they hear the muffled and hoarse screams. He watches the human’s thoughts until he is sure that will obey him, then turns to the rooms which contain his hobgoblin minions.
Shaddar spends a few moments organizing the continuing instruction of his hobgoblin army. The store of equipment they have available, both weapons and armor, is growing almost by the hour it seems! Soon his thugs will be well-equipped at least, if not well-trained.
Toothsnatcher is soon teaching them a lesson on the proper care of weapons and armor and Shaddar leaves the thrall to it; quite content.
Cutt is standing guard outside his larder, much against his will.
“I’m not suited for this work, master!” he whines.
“You will do it,” Shaddar casually commands.
The gnome seems to shrink into himself and nods weakly. Shaddar doesn’t think Cutt will defy him again anytime soon. The combination of scut work and abruptness seem to have humbled the thrall effectively.
He continues, “And when your shift is over, continue to brew poisons for me. Of every kind – liquid, powders, and air-dispersed. Also, I require alchemical explosives. The more powerful, the better.”
The gnome smiles with a hint of excitement, “I’m going to need more ingredients!”
Shaddar mentally checks in on his third thrall, but Loolipo is asleep. Her eight-hour shift of guard duty is now over and she needs her rest if she is to remain useful to him.
He sends a final mental message to Cutt, “Once Loolipo awakens, tell her what you need.”
Shaddar then retires to his study to ponder the information he has learned from the locals and from his dead master’s notes. He comes up with a few new nuggets of information over the next couple of hours.
Then Shaddar is approached by Toothsnatcher and Kug.
“Come in. What is it?” Shaddar mentally asks Toothsnatcher when they hesitate outside his door.
The minotaur enters the room talking, “I want to take the hobgoblins out on an excursion. They need a chance to practice some of their lessons.”
Kug nods eagerly, but being careful to tamper his enthusiasm the way Toothsnatcher has told him he must. “Yeah. Some light mugging work to practice the holds and throws we’ve been teaching. Nothing too rough.”
Shaddar is pleased with his new-found restraint. “Very well. If it will give you a chance to evaluate the new recruits in a more realistic setting? Find the areas were their skills are weakest in order to better continue the training. Each of you take half of the trainees and swap them in the late afternoon. Return around evening.”
His minions bow their heads in acceptance of his wishes and leave the room.
“A moment alone, Toothsnatcher?” Shaddar murmurs. Kug leaves the room to give them privacy.
“How did you manage to calm Kug’s bloodthirstiness?”
“I used me own teachin’ style, master.”
“What’s that?”
“I lifted him up by the neck into the air and told him, ‘You’re too out-of-control. Stop it.’ It made an impression,” Toothsnatcher answers with a shrug.
“Good. See that you maintain an eye on his behavior. If he doesn’t follow your advice – I will handle him. Go.”
Toothsnatcher bows again and leaves the room to gather his small force for a foray into the border zone.
Shaddar returns to his studies.
Throughout the afternoon, Shaddar picks up flickers of thoughts from those who walk past the meadhall and from those who enter the establishment in order to have an ale or two. Most of those who enter are regulars that are recognized by Hawke.
It is interesting to note that Hawke works into his conversation with all of his customers that he will likely soon be shutting down the meadhall entirely. He tells them a quite plausible tale of woes, money problems, and bad business. The patrons are sympathetic and very sorry to hear that Hawke has already let Widow Cottondur go.
Hawke is actively attempting to reduce the traffic to the meadhall so it can better be used as a headquarters for the new guild that he has joined. The man’s insightful initiative is quite the contrast and relief from the idiocy of Jorin and the other minions who seem to need constant supervision and fresh orders to persist in being productive. It is delightful to listen in on some of the ways Hawke uses his vast knowledge of the area, the people, and his innate skills at manipulation and gentle extortion.
One fellow is angry, not sad, that Hawke is talking of closing his doors: “I won’t have it, Hawke! I love it here! I’m sure I could take up a collection or something to help out!”
Hawke uses such a gentle touch of steel that it is marvelous to witness as he replies, “It’s no good, mate. Besides, both your girlfriend and your wife come in from time to time, and it’d be awkward for them to bump into one another. Probably for the best that you find a new watering hole, eh?”
“But, how? How do you know about –“
“I’m blind, but not deaf, man!” Hawke laughs, “It’s clear to everyone who comes in here what you’ve got on the side.”
“Oh,” the man mumbles, “Yeah, I guess it is for the best, then. Sorry to hear about it, Hawke. Best wishes to you.” And the man leaves in a rush, mentally promising himself to never return to the meadhall and to find new places to drink.
Of those who simply walk past the building, Shaddar only catches snatches of their thoughts. Nothing of any particular noteworthiness, but there is a tint of fear that tinges almost all of the people. He listens to scores of various rumors that people are thinking about worriedly as they hurry through the border zone.
“Mist Demons! If only I didn’t have this appointment… I’ll not be returning until this matter is settled! Old Grolwin told me –“
“Lynn must have heard wrong. Must have. There is no way that the constables would just abandon all patrols in the border zone. But I haven’t seen one in here all day, so maybe –“
“What am I doing here? This is madness! I must hurry to escape this cursed place – the border zone is cursed!”
“Some horrible form of undead lives in the border zone now. That’s what they are saying, but it can’t be true…”
“That fool paid me triple my normal courier rate, just so he wouldn’t have to walk the border zone. Ha! What a simple fool! Mist Demons, indeed! Pfft. No such thing.”
“– almost nobody moving through the border zone today. I wonder what’s going on? I’ll have to ask Zeldina what she has heard when we –“
Shaddar is quite pleased at how rapidly his work is having an impact on the city. Less traffic through the border zone means less maintenance work required by lumpys and palehairs – some of them may find themselves in need of… new employment? But it goes beyond this: with the border zone slowly transforming into a no-mans-land, communication and commerce will slow between the slums and the streets. This in turn will result in disgruntled and bored upper classes and lower and middle classes that suddenly lose the richest patrons of their businesses. Economic and social upheavals of every kind! Civil unrest! Bad feelings! Paralyzing uncertainty!
His tentacles twist over and around one another in excited anticipation of these future delights.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 31 Chapter 33 >
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