Usmond relaxes as he is slammed against the wall with a knife in his face. It is key to not over react in such a situation, to keep both body and mind loose and flexiable. He did not care for being stabbed.
"Name is Usmond. Just came into town. What is it to you, friend?" Usmond voice is cold and hard, but he is not trying to browbeat the man, not yet anyway.
"You want to know anything else, you'll get that knife out of my face."
The knife doesn't move, but Usmond sees the man shift his weight into a more balanced posture. He is clearly taking Usmond seriously.
"Just came to town you say. Then how are you stirring up such a hornets nest so fast?" He growls. "We've been quiet for months, there's no way you found us this fast! What's your secret?"
Usmond does his best to hide his confusion. Obviously this man thought Usmond knew things he did not. What nest of vipers had he stumbled into here?
"I'm not stirring up anything." Usmond says evenly, "You are the one attacking innocent travelers. Now, put that knife away or I'll make you eat it." The Gorum mercenary growls.
"Then prove it!" The man responds. "Tell me why you are here. What do you know about the resistance?" He takes two paces back from Usmond, enough to make getting his knife harder - but still well within gutting range.
Resistance?
Usmond takes a deep breath, enjoying the distance. He eyes the mans sternly, "And what would a simple traveler know of a resistance?" Then Usmond lowers his voice, "And if I did know anything, would I bandy it about with a armed stranger on an open street corner? Fool, you'll get us both killed." he says, dismissively.
The man looks Usmond up and down, his eyes narrowed. "I believe you - your surprise was genuine enough. You don't know anything. Still..." He pauses for a moment before making up his mind. "You now know too much. So I give you a choice - come with me so that we can assure your trustworthiness, or we fight here and only one of us leaves. What say you?"
Part of Usmond wants to fight, of course. To strive for mastery and leave his foe choking on his own blood, in the dust of the street. Gorum would be pleased. But this was not the time or place.
Slowly he says, "I will come. But make no mistake. If this is a trap, you will die, I promise this my the Lord in iron. Now, lead on."
The man puts away his dagger - making it disappear with a sleigh of hand that even Usmond's practised eye can't follow. "Come back to the bar then. It is not safe for another hour or so yet."
Re-entering the bar Usmond finds his potential foe leaning on him once again, readopting the attitude of the drunk that had first attracted his interest.
The next hour or so passes without incident, until the bar suddenly receives an influx of laborers and craftsmen, the 'drunk' uses the rush and makes for the door - leading Usmond across the square to the Desert Wind and around the back to a side door, where he knocks a rapid pattern twice. After a short pause the door is opened and Usmond is ushered inside.
Inara is waiting inside and seems suprised to see two figures etner together, but nods a guarded greeting to Usmond none-the-less. "Come on through - people are waiting."
The common room is dark, the shutters already in place on the window and the door firmly barred. Four people sit around the bar and more than one hand drifts towards weapons when Usmond looms into view.
"Cayden, what is this?" One man, wrapped in a burnoose, asks.
"This one came to me across the square." 'Cayden' answers. "He picked me up - he doesn't know whats going on but he's got some idea. Didn't want to leave a body in the street so he's here. Sorry Desna." He offers to Inara, clearly the names are a precaution. "So." He turns to Usmond.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here? What do you know about us? And why shouldn't we kill you here and now?"
Usmond actually smiles as he is led back to the Desert Wind. When 'Cayden' asks him the questions the mercenary grins, 'I seem to know more then you, friend. For example, I happen to already know 'Desna' here, or as I call her, Inara."
As he lets that sink in, Usmond goes on, 'I also happen to know I saved both her and this inn from being burned to the ground perhaps an hour ago. Maybe if you weren't acting drunk in a tavern, you'd know this. So why don't you drop the tough-guy act and open your eyes. Does she look surprised at seeing me?" He gestures to Inara.
"He's right Cayden." Inara responds. "But that doesn't mean you have a right to be rude sir." She looks around for support from the others, particularly the man in the burnoose. "I trust him Aroden."
The man named for the dead god of humanity stares fixedly at Usmond for a moment, something in his gaze remarkably hypnotic.
Usmond feels something in his head, as though someone has fanned his memories open like a deck of cards, examined them and then shuffled the deck. It leaves him feeling somewhat nauseous.
'Aroden' keeps his eyes fixed on Usmond but speaks to the rest of the group. "He is not a spy. Mercenary, but not loyal to the bandits. I think we can trust him."
Usmond growls softly while looking at the mind-reader. "You did not ask permission for that." Carefully the big man places his hand on his sword hilt, "I have sent men to Gorum for lesser crimes. Tell me why I should not kill you here? And do not say because I will die in the attempt. Even if that was true, I do not care." At his side Etmek bares his long, yellowed teeth.
"Because I needed to know if we could trust you." Aroden responds. "What we are speaking of could lead to all of our deaths. Your anger would slay me, perhaps one other before you died. Better surely that you and I die than that our plan be exposed and tens of people be dragged from their beds and slain?"
He pauses for a moment and bows his head. "None-the-less I apologise. It was necessary, but not polite. I hope you will appreciate that only extreme necessity required it."
"A little history is required. This town has passed back and forth between Taldor and Qadira many times - thus we are a mixed breed, in many ways. But most of us agree that we desire peace. If Taldor and Qadira both withdrew from the border tomorrow and left us to our own devices, then we could ask for nothing better. The recent crisis in Oppara seemed fortunate in that regard. Qadira is far away, Taldor uninterested. We had set up a town council and things seemed to be going well." Aroden's face tightens.
"Then those damn mercenaries came. They aren't stupid though - they cloaked their arrival in patriotism. Taldor First! Taldor Last! Taldor Before All! Ever since they came they've been keeping power by exploiting ethnic divisions - Taldanes and their businesses get protection, Qadiran ones have to pay 'culture taxes', or worse. I hear you interrupted Inara's collection this afternoon. Those of us around this bar represent what is left of the town council - after the bandits purged us and kept a small rump of their own loyalists. You can imagine what would happen to us if we were found, our bodies would be cold before the beer in these barrels stopped frothing."
He looks Usmond straight in the eye and removes his burnoose, revealing a firm, unbearded face with bright green eyes. "My name is Hassan al'Saman. I welcome you to Vigilance and ask, what is your purpose here?"
"Don't you already know, mind reader?" Usmond growls at the man, looking deeply into those somewhat hypnotic green eyes. "You have gall to invade my mind then still ask my questions. One or the other should be sufficient."
Carefully though, the hulking mercenary relaxes somewhat, "I have no purpose, not yet. I have been released from my duties in Qadira and headed north. I am a mercenary so such stints between lands is not new to me. But surely you know all of this?"
Then he laughs, "I did not know you were such fools however. Do you really think both Taldor and Qadria will leave you alone? Oh maybe you can eject them for a season, a year, a decade. But both sides will come back, like slavering jackals. Empires always do. You would do better to pick a side then try to fight both, my friends. But that is just my professional opinion."
"If I stripped your mind bare then it would be." Hassan answers, watching Usmond without wavering. "I read your mind only to ensure the safety of my friends. I do not invade a man's privacy lightly."
He offers a grim smile to Usmond's proclamation regarding empires. "And by fighting we make ourselves a ripe piece of meat, yes? That is true, but if we stick together - build ourselves into a force then perhaps we become a meal that's too big to swallow. If we are unified, then we can negotiate - one invades, we speak to the other, get terms of incorporation and privileges of our own. It has been done before." His eyes are bright and clear as he looks at Usmond and the mercenary can almost feel his charisma, there is no doubt that this man is the leader in this room.
"If we are to survive the wolves, it would behoove us to have a wolf of our own. We are not rich, but the mercenaries invading our town have taken much wealth from us and others. Anyone who helped us would be well rewarded."
Charisma is a more dangerous weapon then the sharpest sword An old mercenary saying crosses Usmond's mind as he listens to the man. Even the jaded Usmond his words have power.
Dangerous...
Usmond laughs, trying to shatter the spell of the man's words. "Too big to swallow? Have any of you been to Taldor or Qadira? This entire borderland is nothing to them, an afterthought, a bug to squash after the main course is finished."
But then Usmond holds up a hand, "Still, I always listen when people speak of rewards. Do I detect a job offer?"
"You do." Hassan replies, dryly. "We have a few folk here capable of taking up arms, probably not enough to fight the mercenaries. If we had more like you, more men with training - then we might be able to actually win. I want you to train the men we have. You seem capable and experienced. Are you willing? As I said, payment is likely to come at the end - I'm afraid I have little to offer you up front apart from gratitude. But if we succeed we will have a lot to offer you."
Usmond barks a laugh, "I believe you when you say you don't have many mercenaries. Promising to pay if we win? That's a risky job to take. More likely I end up with no wages and hung from a Taldan gibbet. or worse."
The larger man rubs his chin, "Tell me friend. Give me one reason why I should cast my lot in with you, and not simply walk to the Taldan garrison and offer my services there? They probably pay better, at any rate."
The phrasing is more of a test then anything but Usmond is also curious to what the rebels will say.
Hassan barks a mirthless laugh. "What Taldan garrison? The nearest one is days away. Now if you mean the deserters..." He pauses "You'll have a better chance of getting paid with them - I do not deny it. You'll make easy money off the backs of the poor - but would it be right?"
He leaves the question hanging in the air.
"I won't stop you, whatever you chose. Not tonight - but if we meet again...."
Usmond raises his eyebrow. Not at the threat, which is expected (and fair) but at the implication behind it.
"You have men in your ranks that could kill me?" Usmond says lightly, looking at the room full of rebels. 'In a fair fight? I'm impressed. Show them to me and maybe I will re-think your offer."
: Nothing happens, although Usmond feels something grasping at his mind for a moment.
Usmond suddenly finds himself a prisoner in his own body as he leaps onto the bar and begins to dance, making clucking noises the whole while.
After a minute or so Usmond suddenly finds himself in control of his own motor skills again.
Usmond feels a tug on his mind, but this time the mercenary is slightly more prepared and overcomes it, mastering himself.
"I told you to stay out of my head, wizard." He growls at the man in the burnoose, hands going to his sword. At his side Etmek also growls, showing his collection of large yellow teeth, sensing the tension.
'I don't give warnings more then once, as a rule."
"It will not happen again." Hassan says, "Unless you make it necessary."
Usmond suddenly feels something cold under his neck. He recognises the feeling of a blade all too well and suddenly realises that Inara is no longer in his eye-line.
"Boys..." Her voice whispers in his ear. "Too busy measuring their swords to pay attention to a woman and her knife."
Across the bar Hassan grins. "You see mercenary, the greatest soldiers - those we don't have. But we can be effective in our own small way." His smile drops. "So, I must ask for the last time - will you join us?"
There is a long silence while Usmond consider this. Things were moving very fast now, and he was getting caught up in a web of loyalties.
"I may join you, but not openly." Usmond says finally and adds, "As Inara can tell you, I helped her without revealing any of my own feelings to the local bandits. What would you say to me joining their ranks as a spy/ally to your cause?"
Usmond grins slowly, "I ask you so you do not think I do it to betray you."
"We need another man on the inside." A small man with flaming red hair speaks from his quiet position on the far side of the bar. "I know they are preparing to move their 'tribute' soon, and if we don't find out where and how then we'll lose that money forever."
Hassan nods. "This is Abadar. He's clever, and works for them. The disdain in his voice is all too clear. "If he says we need you on the inside then we do - but how do you propose to get inside? We have little we can do to help there, not without compromising Abadar."
Usmond rubs his chin, "There is one obvious way. I could be successful. It is obvious they are not as practiced at shaking you folks down as they'd like. Look at the trouble they were having with Inara. They were willing to risk burning down an entire building for a few gold coins."
The mercenary goes on, "However, perhaps I could offer an alternative? We could make it look like I had cowed you into submission....it would be an act, but one they would be unaware of."
"I would like quite valuable, as the man who could keep the locals happy while I took their 'taxes'.
Hassan nods slowly. "This plan makes sense. Abadar - can you arrange for my place to be next on the demand list? That should give our friend here a chance to show his skills." The skinny man nods silently as Hassan turns back to Usmond.
"No names from here on. You know us as Cayden, Desna, Abadar, Gozreh and Aroden. Friends, meet Gorum."
The next morning, after a restful sleep at the Golden Sun, paid for with Aroden's gold Usmond feels refreshed. His breakfast is provided and it becomes clear that the Golden Sun offers an exceptional level of service, even with their current 'advantages'.
Ben-Ali, who shared a smaller room on the upper floor arrives and manages to restrain himself from saluting in front of the entire tavern.
"So, what are our plans today boss?" He asks quietly, aware that Usmond had been gone a long time, but not why.
Usmond nods to the main and offers his 'servant' a seat. He gives Ben-Ali a quick summation of the days events, an outline for the soldier.
"So, welcome to the Resistance." He finishes, sipping at his tea. "Things have gone in an unexpected pattern. We will need to be ready for when the others arrive. I have ideas..."
The mercenary scratches his chin, "How long until the rest of the men get here, you think?"
"The orders said five days." Ben Ali strokes his chin, scratching at the bristles of two days growth. "Maybe three more days? Depends how hard Taresh pushes the horses... Do you want me to ride out and meet them sir? I'm not much of one for all the sneaky stuff. Give me an enemy and a sword any day."
He glances around and leans forward slightly. "So what is the plan sir?"
Usmond nods, 'My thoughts align with yours. I want you to go out and meet them and tell them to make camp out of sight." he sighs, "Although I would prefer you stay here and guard my back. Did you discover anything of note last night while I was making secret deals?"
"My general plan is to play off the rebels against the bandit garrison. As far as I understand, our...employers, would rather deal with a local 'assembly' or whatever, then a bunch of Taldan forces. However, kicking out the local bandit and not having the Smiler land on us with both feet will be a trick. "
Usmond, deep in thought adds, 'I need to show him it will be more efficient to let the locals govern themselves...." he looks at Ben-Ali, "Our troop will be most important for this task. It is our ace in the hole....do they play cards in Qadria? It means our secret advantage."
Usmond smiles, 'How do you feel about robbing from some bandits?"