Tied to a chair, a man gasps for air. The room is blurry, but that tends to happen when you can only open one eye.. He needs to continue blinking to keep the blood out of his other. With a cough a sudden sharp pain in his chest erupts, multiple wounds begin to flare up where a moment ago he was completely numb.
'Awake at last, I thought for a moment that I had put you down.'
The man manages to stop coughing long enough to look back up. Sitting in a chair opposite at him, hooded, his stern gaze fixated back at him and bearing the mark of the First Vault. At first he was unsure what he did to deserve this, until seeing that mark clasp unto his cape. It wasn't his first visit from the bank of Abadar following up on his debt, far from it. For years he had managed to evade and deceive them... that's when they decided to send him. The Collector.
'You know I always loved to say we can do this the easy way or the hard way.. but you had that choice.. I'm the hard way.'
Another blow to the abdomen causes an eruption of blood as he shifts in his seat.
'Now I don't suppose your going to tell me where you keep it stashed.'
After a moment to catch his breath, he manages to get three words out.. the most painful words he ever spoke. His jaw was most definetely broken and he couldn't feel his lips but he muttered 'Go to Hell'.
After a chuckle he gets right up in the mans face and says to him, 'All in due time, for now lets see how long you can hold out until it's time to send you under.'
A crack then a scream, it wouldn't be the last one until he confesses where he had hidden it. Chump change as it is the man had to be made an example of, the Bank of Abadar is not below using these tactics when necessary.. Civility has consequences after all and the Collector and those like him are very effective at what they do.
When the collectings done, he heads over to deliver the gold.. but not to the bank itself, that would draw much too much attention at a prestigious institution. A small safehouse run by an less then reputable bookie in a part of town where a piece of gold can get a man killed.. the perfect hideout.
The pouch of gold, hits the table with a jingle.
'Good work Silas m'boy, what's the haul?'
'Barely worth the trip, I feel like you've been wasting my time on petty crooks all week.'
The man pours out the bag on the table, barely twenty gold left of the two-hundred gold debt.
'Actually.. I did come across something very interesting that might suit you a bit more. We have a possibility of a large tax evasion scheme that I'd like you to take a look at. You'll have to leave the city but this could turn out to be a big one. Ya' interested?'
Silas grinned, Magnimar has been so boring recently and there might finally be something exciting going on.. where would he be going he wondered. Surely it had to be either Riddleport or Korvosa for something so important.
'Alright, where am I going?'
As he poured the small pile of gold in the pouch he looked up at Silas.