Hammond smirked. "I know how strong I am."
His smirk spread into a smile as he imaged himself speaking Janus's name out loud and proceeding to beat on the man for a good 5 minutes.
"Yeah, I can see that" he said.
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"What choice do we have? We have no idea what's going on or even who's involved. The broad is the only one we know about so I guess we have to start there." He looked at Gio and Clarissa. "So you two are going hunting for information? Well then get going. I don't like being out here in broad daylight. Too many eyes and ears." He smacked Janus hard in the chest with the back of his hand. "We'll take the broad back to the bar and hide her out, assuming she's even still where ever you left her." Hammond looked back at the other two. "If you get into trouble, run back to the bar. If you can't, send word. If you do that either, nice knowin' ya."
"Don't tell me after all of this you lost her?" Hammond asked through gritted teeth. He didn't like being away from the bar during the day, he had stuff to do. The bar didn't clean itself, the shelves didn't restock themselves, and the floor didn't sweep itself. And he liked being played the fool even less. Most of all, he preferred to make money, not spend it. "And you owe me a silver."
"Uh, thanks" Hammond said as he passed the kid a few coppers. "What da you mean a silver? Why I outta..." He didn't bother to finish the sentence aloud. Instead he daydreamed about the different ways he would throttle the man when next they met. "Here" he said begrudgingly, as he passed the kid a silver. He harrumphed loudly after reading the note. He offered the note to Gio. Obviously annoyed at the turn of events, he muttered "south market, soon" not really caring who may have been eavesdropping.
"Sure las. Why don't you rest in Janus's room. It's probably the cleanest room in here. I can wake you when he gets back." Hammond raised his glass one last time in salute before finishing it off.
"I'm sorry for your family. This city is rotten. You should have stayed gone. Unless you plan on starting an uprising, vengeance will only get you killed. Vengeance always seems to end in more vengeance." "Anyway, this here is my outhouse. They can watch it all they want. They can go tell whoever they want. They try to shit in my outhouse, they'll find themselves in a place they don't want to be. We should wait for Janus. He's got a head for solving problems. Me, I've got a head for breaking problems. You'll be safe here." "So, where'd you learn to sing like that?"
As the door closed behind the last Hellknight, Hammond's shoulders relaxed and the patrons of the bar breathed a sigh of relief. With a hand on Clarissa's shoulder, he replied. "Sure las, whatever you need. This one's on the house." It didn't take long for him to fetch the rotgut, but in those few seconds, numerous thoughts raced through his mind. What am I getting in the middle of? What game are these broads playing at? HellKnights don't normally give in that peacefully, does this one have some hidden ties? Why don't you just quietly walk away old boy? Or is it too late for that? "Here you go las, bottom's up" he said as he placed two somewhat clean mugs on the table and started filling them up. He sat down at the table and raised one of the glasses while looking her in the eye. "So, before they come back and burn my bar down, mind telling me what your story is?"
Grumbling to himself as he turned to fetch the good stuff, Hammond tossed his dirty wash cloth onto the bar. He hated to give away the good stuff. It was bad for business. These fools wouldn't appreciate it and they certainly weren't going to pay for it. He still tried to put on his best smile as he turned back around and started to fill a few mugs. Hopefully his normal patrons had enough sense to not panic. Otherwise this was going to get messy. He almost stopped dead in his tracks as Clarissa started to sing again. The woman definitely had talent. He was suddenly fearful that she might be seen as too good for this type of establishment. He was starting to worry about just how much she stood out. He shook his head, trying to force the thoughts out just as he forced himself to keep moving forward. "Here ya go lads. Enjoy" he said as he set the mugs down in front of the Hellknights.
The burly bartender continued to wipe the bar top with his dirty rag as the Hellknights entered. His eyebrow raised as Clarissa asked about an escort. "Don't be silly las. Them there boys are just thirsty for a drink. What'll it be lads?"
"Where ya gonna go?" Hammond inquired. "I'm with him" he said, indicating Janus with his thumb. "If they think you're guilty, you're done. If you look guilty, you're worse." "Besides"...he shrugged. "A couple of hell knights ain't nothin'. It's the rest of them you have to worry about."
The prophet? The question echoed in Hammond's head.
"Hey! I'm not hungry" Hammond said. "When did I become the waiter?" he muttered to himself as he leaned the mop up against the wall and turned to go get a mug from the bar.
Walking back into the small room, two things became clear. First, the thug was going to talk. Whether or not he had any useful information was a different story but at least they may learn something about who wanted this woman dead or what was going on. It was a small chance, but it was better than no chance at all. Second, he was going to need to use the mop. His head shook with disgust. At least blood didn't reek nearly as bad.
Glad to hear you're still alive. Been rough weeks all around.
Hammond looked around the room. This was, after all, his broom closet. Apparently Janus had moved it out when he moved in. Hammond nodded and turned to leave the small room. He walked around the bar for a minute, checking on everything. He did a quick count of the patrons, checking to see if he noticed any new faces that had come in since she had. He went to check on Vincent before going to look for a mop and some cleaning supplies. It took a little longer than he had expected but eventually he found the mop and bucket. He took the time to half fill the bucket with water before returning to the small room.
"So I guess your plan worked then huh? Now what?" Hammond asked as he dumped his baggage onto the floor. He didn't want to dirty his limited furniture with trash. With his hands on his hips he arched his back until a muffled 'pop' escaped. "Ahh, that's better. Gotta get the kinks out. So, whatcha wanna do with 'em? Ain't got no iron to put 'em in..."
Hammond looked at the two unconscious men lying in the street. Then he glanced down at the club in his hand, then back at the sleeping men. With a shrug, he tossed the club down and made his way over to the two snoring bodies. With a heavy grunt, he hefted one over his shoulder and then the other. If the men had been a decent size or had heavier armor, he probably wouldn't have made it far, certainly not back to the bar. As it was, he was able to stagger along as his face turned red from the exertion. Luckily, the bar wasn't far.
Idiots Hammond thought to himself. He assumed Janus could handle himself well enough, but he knew practically nothing about the woman. He hoped this wasn't going to get drawn out. They didn't have time for this. The longer they were outside, the more likely they were to attract the Dotari, or even the shadow beasts that had been plaguing the streets. One was bad, the others were worse, but neither were preferable. He could have run straight at them, even barreled right into them, but he was trying to be more cautious. He didn't know them anymore than they knew him and he had enough secrets of his own. He glanced around for a stick or pipe or something. Anything he could use as a club. He didn't want to have to show his own weapons if he didn't have to.
"HEY!" Hammond shouted. "Back off. That one's mine!" he said through bared teeth, pointing at Janus. "I don't know what you boys are thinking, but think it somewhere else, while you still got a head to think with."
"Bloody hell" Hammond cursed under his breath. His fist punched down into the wooden rail surrounding the edge of the roof. It cracked slightly from the impact as a vague imprint was left. He spun around and headed back to the trapdoor. He pulled the door closed as he shimmied down the ladder. Once back inside, he went back to the bar to fetch Gio. "Storeroom, trapdoor to roof. Why don't you go keep an eye out? You got better reach with that little cannon of yours. Three guys went after them."
"There's a trapdoor hatch that'll let you into the storeroom from the roof, but there's no ladder or anything to get up to the roof from the outside. I guess I can toss a rope over the edge to help you make it up to the top. Gio work here occasionally part time. He can man the bar for a bit, make sure everyone stays calm. I'll keep an eye out from the room. My eyes ain't great in the dark but there better than his" he says, nodding at Gio.
Hammond stood at the doorway and watched as Janus gave a quick tour of the room. Where did he get clean sheets? And what did he do to my ceiling?" He shrugged, mostly to himself and leaned against the wall as he waited. Once Janus left the woman lone in the room and the door had closed, he spoke up. "So now what? Do you really want to just sit out here and wait for some guy with a red cloak to show up? It's not bloody likely. Not to mention that we'll draw a lot of attention to the room from the others out there" he said, pointing back towards the common room.
Scratching his head as he listened, Hammond eventually shrugged in confusion. He had no idea what the woman was talking about, and to make matters worse, he believed every word she said. "Janus, this seems to be right down your alley. I'm no investigator, but seems to me the only way we're gonna find this fella would be to follow this Ms. We could probably grab another set of eyes or two to help keep an eye out, but that's all I got fer suggestions."
"Hey Vincent, watch the bar for a bit. I don't imagine many more will be coming in tonight" Hammond called out to the big man leaning against the wall near the door. The man turned and looked, listening as Hammond spoke before nodding and heading over to relieve his employer. Employer was a strong word, but is was more accurate than friend. Vincent was somewhat honorable, so Hammond trusted him to keep an eye on things and not steal from him. In exchange Hammond let the man sleep whenever he needed to. Hammond waited for Janus to lead them to the back and followed the others, casting a somewhat nervous glance over his shoulder before the common room disappeared from sight.
Normally skilled in reading people, a talent cultivated by years of listening to and observing others as they told their stories, Hammond could not read this woman. Maybe it was all of the attention she was getting from the others that was distracting him, or maybe it was just her stunning good looks. Regardless, he was falling for her performance hook, line, and sinker. "Maybe we should take this conversation back to one of the more private rooms in the back? There's an awful lot of eyes and ears around here at the moment."
Hammmond looked around the bar, scanning the customers as they sat at his tables and checking to see if any wore a red cloak. Satisfied that this "red cloak" was not currently present in the bar, he shrugged. "I don't see any red cloaks in here. You should be safe enough for now. And you're welcome to spend the night. It's not safe out there after curfew. It's likely just some prank, maybe a scorned lover perhaps? You'll feel better after some sleep. And don't worry" he said, looking around the bar again. "They may stink like dogs. Don't mean I'll let 'em act like 'em."
"Has this man...tried to hurt you? Have you tried talking to the Dotari?" Hammond's interest wasn't feigned for a change. Maybe it was the way she looked or maybe he was falling for the woman's wiles. Either way, his concern was genuine. Well, concern may have been a bit strong. At this point he was more curious than anything else.
Hammond breathed a sigh of relief as Janus made his way over. He could already feel himself beginning to sweat in the presence of the woman and any reason to excuse himself was welcome. That was until she walked in. She was alluring, almost intoxicating. Where Clarissa could draw a person in, this woman could simply pluck them from where they stood and they wouldn't have even realized it. She wasn't necessarily any prettier than Clarissa, but she moved with a different purpose, driven by different motivations. Hammond nodded his head as Janus spoke. "Pardon me. Another customer to serve." He turned and moved back down the bar to greet his newest patron. Before he could even ask, the woman had placed her order. He nodded simply, almost dumbfoundedly, and turned to begin hunting for a clean wine glass. He mentally cursed himself for not keeping a tidier bar but she was so far above his normal clientele that he couldn't begin to fathom why she would even be in a joint like this. It's not like archbishops walked into any old church. He grabbed the cleanest glass between the three left on the rack and gave it a once over with his own apron. It was cleaner than his rag but not by much. He hoped she hadn't noticed. He stepped into the back room behind the bar to fetch the higher priced wine and quickly returned. He set the glass down and poured the young lady her first fill. "One silver piece for the glass. Four for the bottle" he said, as politely as he could.
Hammond walked over towards where the performer now sat, somewhat still enraptured with her. He shrugged in answer to her first question, not entirely sure she was even talking to him. As she continued speaking he looked around and didn't notice anyone else in particular so he risked answering. "Eh, not so much. These poor sods wouldn't likely be here if they had somewhere else to go anyway, and most of 'em won't risk leaving after curfew. They ain't really got money for business anyway...well, maybe one or two of 'em." He paused to reach down into a small bowl on a shelf behind the bar and produced a tindertwing. He struck the top of it with his own thumb as the fire sprung to life. "Expensive habit you have there. Lucky for you I can make these myself" he said as he leaned in and offered the flame. He hesitated before continuing on, hoping that he wasn't already supposed to know the answer to his next question before he asked it. "What'd ya say your name was?"
While Hammond had the unusual ability to tune others out when he wanted to, he found himself drawn into the woman's song and performance. It was one of those skills that empowered him as a bar tender. Lord knew it wasn't his appearance and interest in other people. He certainly had little of either of those going for him. What he did have was an air of intimidation about him and the size to match, but even that faded away as he stood transfixed on the performer. It wasn't only her voice or the way she moved, the words of the song drew him in as well. Unknowingly, he had been looking for something. Day in and day out, he witnessed the plight of those around him and it did wear on him. Even he could not totally blind himself to the problems of others, not on such a grand scale. And the longer she sang, the more he was inspired to do something about it. As the song began to draw to a close, he found himself clapping loudly, his wash cloth sitting in a tiny heap on the bar. Before he knew it, he was shouting "bravo!" along with the other audience members. He blushed, hoping no one noticed. It would not help his reputation. While he was a hard-ass, he did have a soft-spot for those with hardship. He humphed himself up, grabbed the dirty rag and started wiping the bar down again. His eyes glanced around for a patron to serve in a feigned attempt to lose himself in his work again, but he made a point to keep an eye on her. He was cursing himself for not paying enough attention to remember her name.
The small bit of cloth swept across the counter top, distributing the grime more evenly than actually removing any of it. Hammond flipped the cloth over and wiped the bar again. It was more habit than anything else. Something to keep him distracted from the poor souls that sat around the tavern, slowly nursing their watered-down drinks. As the hour grew late, he knew that most of them would need to sleep where they sat. It would soon be too dark and too late for them to try to venture home. The streets weren't safe after dark, not with the curfew and the shadow beasts roaming around. He didn't really mind them all sleeping on the floor or in the chairs but he did wish he had more rooms with beds to offer them. Then again, they probably couldn't afford them anyway. His attention slipped back to the woman who had been standing in front of him talking. He hadn't really been paying attention. He wasn't that interested in performers personally, but he did appreciate how the atmosphere seemed to improve for his customers when a tune was played or a song sung. As long as she understood that he couldn't afford to pay her for her time, he was fine with letting her do whatever. Anything to bring a smile to the faces of these poor sods. He nodded and feigned a smile, hoping that she wouldn't start asking him questions about whatever it was she had been talking about.
I think we'd like to start. Let's aim for Friday. I think we can entertain ourselves a bit while you are traveling and it's the holidays anyways so we'll all be somewhat distracted. The longer we wait, the more I second guess my character choices. Hopefully by Friday the last of the group will check in and we'll be ready.
Okay, Razor's crunch is pretty much done. I've been reading the Westcrown Primer looking for a good spot for the inn. I'm looking for a seedier part of town, potentially near an opera house. His Renown social ability means about 200 people in the surrounding area (1 mile) like him and/or the bar...it's probably more the bar. |