| slimjimzv |
I was asked to write a backstory and got a bit carried away. There's an opening to this where Azul is molested as a child, but I didn't think it was appropriate for general forums. Besides, I started to enjoy writing it more as I went along. If anyone wants to use some or all of this for their own backstory, feel free.
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About 15 years of age, Azul was really making a name for himself the city’s underbelly. What was most surprising wasn’t his age, for the guild felt that the only way to truly hone your skills was to practice them in the real world. The younger that practice commenced, the better the resulting end product. Thieves with limited talents typically wound up imprisoned, enslaved or dead. The talented and lucky would persevere and make the guild stronger in the end. No, what was most surprising was that Azul was almost as good as he thought he was.
The boy thief crept around the room in total silence. The only illumination came from a distant street lamp. Azul used his other senses to scour the room as the merchant and his wife slept a few feet away. Azul felt a slight depression under his light tread and smiled as he bent to examine the floorboard.
His fingers traced the edge of the board and he found a niche he could just get his finger beneath. He gently lifted, searching for any sign of a trap. With none found, he retrieved the hefty pouch inside and placed it in his tunic. The merchant snorted and rolled over and Azul froze. In response, the fat wife snored loudly and mumbled incoherently. Azul waited several minutes for the pair to settle back into peaceful rest, replaced the board and crept to the window.
Once on the balcony, Azul pulled himself onto the roof and spun to look back over the threshold. He gently pushed the window closed and secured the lock with his thread. He smiled as he extracted the thread, envisioning the confusion when the merchant discovered his missing funds.
As he silently worked his way from rooftop to rooftop, he contemplated his valued friend. In one life-altering moment, Mico went from hated rival to Azul’s savior and the only person in his life he truly trusted. There was no doubt Azul would be dead if not for Mico’s intervention. Azul had gone into a shell and for some time it appeared he would never recover. The first few weeks had been the hardest on both of them, living off the scraps and refuse of the city. They both knew they would starve and die if they continued their current lifestyle. The first theft was almost an accident. Azul bumped into a well-dressed noble who appeared to be heading somewhere important. Mico snatched his purse without the noble or Azul being aware. Once those coins began to dry up, they knew they’d have to steal again.
Soon, theft became their tool for survival. Azul found that he was talented in this line of work and came to relish the moment of the heist. He would charm or distract the target while Mico became all but invisible and lifted their purse. After several months living a decent lifestyle off their ill-gotten gains, they were approached by an unsavory character who indicated they should follow. He led them into a seemingly empty alley where suddenly they found themselves surrounded.
One of the men stepped up to blindfold them. “We aint gonna harm you unless you force us. You’re alive because you’re gifted, but we don’t stomach poachers. Now we’re gonna cover your eyes and you’ll come with us.” Azul fought down his irritation and nodded once. The man stepped forward and Azul saw Mico blindfolded an instant before he was roughly denied light himself. Struggling against the urge to pull the blindfold away, Azul heard the man speak. “You will both be led from here to another place where others will come to guide you. You’ll be passed along through many hands before you reach your destination. Don’t be surprised to hear unexpected voices in the dark. Be warned; remove your blindfold only if we tell ya. You won’t know where you are from this moment on.” Azul felt a rope being tied around his waist and heard the speaker say, “Hold tight to the rope and keep a steady foot. We travel at a good pace.” Without another word, they were jerked around and led off into the night.
For more than an hour, or so it seemed to Azul, they were led around the city and sewers. He had twice stumbled and had bruises to show for the casual care given by his guides. As least three times they changed guides, so he had no idea what he would see when the blindfold was removed. At last they climbed a flight of stairs. They heard several doors open and shut before strong hands forced them to sit. At last the blindfold was removed and Azul blinked as he was dazzled by the light.
Several hooded lanterns had been placed on a desk in front of them. A shadowy figure leaned forward from behind the desk. “We’ve been watching you boyos. Seems you’ve been busy reaching into what don’t belong to ya.” Azul and Mico shared a glance. Based on how they arrived and the fact that they still lived, it seemed their lives were not yet forfeit. There was silence as the man waited for a response.
Mico cleared his throat, “Sir, we’re just doing what we must to survive. If we’ve taken from you, we’ll gladly repay whatever was lost.”
The shrouded figure leaned back in his char, “Oh, you boyos have taken from us alright. You ever heard of the Council of Thieves? I can see by your reactions you have. Well, we own the coin in this town, whether the residents believe so or no. Understand this. We don’t allow renegade thieves. Too much risk involved. When thieves get sloppy, people get killed. Then the authorities can’t to look the other way. Makes things tough for all of us, you see.” The man pulled out a pipe and lit it. The match flame illuminated his face for a fraction of a second. In the glimpse he had, Azul could tell the man had been in quite a few scrapes from his heavy brow and crooked nose. The flame vanished and the man went back into shrouded mystery.
“Here’s the play, boyos. You’ve got three options.” The man leaned forward and held up a finger, “One. Leave here without an agreement. We’ll march you back into the street and you stay in this town to live your little lives. But if you steal again, we’ll know about it and those little lives will be forfeit.” He held up a second finger, “Two. We let you go and you leave town. We own everything north to Korvosa and east to the Free Kings Mountains. Outside of those borders, you can live your lives at you see fit.” He raised the third finger, “Three. You apply to the guild. We’ll hone your skills and teach you how to remain unseen, foil traps and where to point the sharp end of a weapon. You’ll pay a third of all your scores to the guild.” He leaned back and puffed his pipe. “I suppose there is a fourth option. We could kill you right here and now. So, which will it be?”
Mico and Azul shared another look. Azul shrugged and Mico again cleared his throat. “We’d like to join up, sir.”
The man blew out a long stream of smoke, “Well then boyos, welcome to the guild. Chester will take you to begin your training. Understand this, fail in your training, and you’ll have to resort to options one or two.”
*****
The training had been arduous, but both boys showed a natural talent. Mico could all but vanish at will. His Halfling heritage allowed him to creep in total silence and fit into and through places a grown man could never approach. He had an athleticism that not even Azul could believe. He could leap, climb and flip through, around and into places no one else could reach without difficulty. Azul’s skills were a bit more straightforward. He was as silent as any student other than Mico. More silent even, than some of the instructors. He began to learn the blade and sap. As their training progressed, they were sent on increasingly difficult tasks. As they accomplished each task, they were moved to the next level of training. Other boys and girls quickly became jealous of how easily Azul and Mico breezed through challenges. After a year, they had smoothly progressed through everything thrown at them. Finally, they were brought into the office where they had first been interviewed.
Once again, the man sat behind a desk, concealed by shadow. “Well, well boyos. You’re both ready for your final tests. Pass these and you’ll be full-blown members of the guild. You’ll each have your own test. Go to these locations and you’ll meet your contacts. Follow their instructions and, with luck, there will be a homecoming for the both of ya.”
*****
Azul was brought out of his reverie as he approached the guild safe house. Something was amiss. He crouched down and crept around to the side window. He could see figures moving around the dimly lit interior, but it was difficult to tell exactly what was happening inside. He heard a short scuffle and decided to investigate further. The higher ups in the guild would want to know about any infighting. Mico was probably already back at the training barracks waiting for him, as he was always the quicker of the two, but Azul was ahead of schedule and knew he’d have ample time to turn in his loot.
Azul moved around to the dark side of the building. It wouldn’t do to have moonlight illuminating him from behind. With practiced efficiency, he cracked open the window and slipped in behind some crates. Someone came from a back room and approached the door. For an instant, his alert face was illuminated from the moonlight through the windows. It was Brutlic, one of their fellow students. He was a big brute who had failed a number of his tests. Azul and Mico had speculated he would be removed from training sooner rather than later. What Azul couldn’t figure out was why he was here. Brutlic came to a stop several feet from the door and looked back and forth. Muttering, he returned to the back room. As he opened the door, Azul was able to see partially inside.
Mico was being gagged and bound to a chair by his hands and feet. Azul saw the profile of a large man standing over him securing the restraints. His heavy brow was furrowed over his crooked nose. As he stood back to assess his work, he pulled a pipe from his tunic and began to smoke. He turned and spoke to a man out of Azul’s vision. “What’s the play, boss?”
A deep commanding voice replied. “How the hell did this happen, Carst?”
Carst looked down at his pipe as though the answer could be found in the barrel. “This one’s fast.” He gestured at Mico. “I never expected him to get back before you left.”
“Well, you were wrong.” The voice was clearly exasperated. “You and that idiot boy of yours need to take care of it. Make no mistake, Carst. This is a black eye. You’ll pay for this colossal screw up.”
Azul could hear the sound of a door opening and closing. Strange because to his knowledge, there were no exits from that room other than the one Azul was facing. Inside, Carst had turned to Mico.
“You’re so damn clever, aren’t you boyo? Well, you little dogfeet always do seem to have an ego bigger than your bodies can carry. Don’t worry, though. I ain’t gonna kill you. Like I said, that brings too much attention. I do hear that blind cripple mutes can make a decent living as beggars.”
With that, the man reared back his club, aiming at Mico’s legs. As he arched back for a powerful swing, Azul drove his short sword deep into his ribs. The surprise on everyone’s face filled Azul with a moment’s pride. No one had seen him sneak into the room and into position for the strike, including Mico. Azul ripped out his sword, causing as much damage as possible and turned as Brutlic advanced.
Mico managed to loosen his gag, “I knew you weren’t good enough to make it on your own, Butt Lick. Did daddy have to suck much prick to get you a spot, BOYO? Looking at the way he works that pipe, I bet he’s a fantastic prick sucker. I’M GONNA EAT YOUR BABIES!” With that, Mico started making gagging and sucking noises. Brutlic’s face turned red as he turned to face the defenseless Mico. With that opening, Azul struck. His sword entered Brutlic’s throat and exited his left ear. As Brutlic fell, Azul couldn’t help but to laugh.
Mico wiggled impatiently, “Cut me loose, dumbass.” Azul continued to giggle as he cut Mico’s bonds and steadied him as blood rushed back into cramped limbs. “I guess we’re kinda even now, huh?”
Azul’s face grew serious as he studied his friend. “I don’t know. Maybe. Either way, you’re the only person I trust. Probably the only one I’ll ever trust. As long as we watch each other’s backs, I think we’ll be ok.”
Mico smiled as he began to dispossess Brutlic of his belongings. “That’s a good thing too. Cause now we can’t stay here. Not even in this city. Clearly they didn’t plan to keep me around. I wonder what lie they were going to feed you.” As Mico approached Carst’s body, he hesitated. “Wow, he’s alive. Tough sum’b@!%!, aint he?”
Azul looked back from the door, “Leave him. We need to get moving. He’ll live or die on his own. Let the gods decide.”
Mico waved at Azul, “Not that way. Vassindio saw fit to exit secretly. I think we should follow his lead.”
Azul gave a quizzical look, “Vassindio?”
“Yeah, I guess he’s a noble from Westcrown. I heard Butt Lick and his dad licking his boots as I returned from my trial. Guess I got a little too interested and a little too sloppy. Either way, I don’t think we’ve got much of a future in the guild now. We need to get moving.”
With that, Mico approached a section of wall and pressed an outcropping of stone. The wall swung inward and both boys vanished inside.
*****
The boys knew they were in trouble. There was no place to go, and it didn’t appear the men would stop until they found what they were looking for. Crouched in the back of the wagon, they waited as they heard each successive wagon being opened and examined. Two wagons away, they heard a surprised scream cut off short as the life of one of the merchant’s many wives was snuffed. The other wives could be heard crying and pleading.
“Ah, what a haul. These will fetch quite a price back in Korvosa.” The women moaned as they were secured and bound for transport.
The wagon next to the boys was searched and apparently devoid of value based on the disappointed reaction from the bandits. Mico looked over to Azul with a question in his eyes. Azul nodded and Mico pushed himself back to the corner becoming all but invisible. Azul knew he was too big to hide in such a cramped quarters and awaited the inevitable. As the doors flew open, Azul raised his hands, surrendering himself to capture. He shifted in the sunlight and positioned himself so that his shadow fell over Mico’s hiding place.
The grizzled man leveled his short sword at Azul while scratching his patchy black beard with the other, “Well what have we here? Looks like at least one fighter was too cowardly to protect his master’s wares.” The man had no way of knowing that the wagon master had never been aware of Azul’s presence on the caravan. He gestured with his sword for Azul to exit the wagon so he could search inside. As Azul exited, he purposefully tripped on the step off and planted face first in the dirt. The man turned and kicked Azul in the ribs, “Get up you lousy cur.” The man used his boot on Azul’s backside to propel him towards the huddled women. All around were dead guards and merchants. A ragged group of men pulled spent arrows and crossbow bolts from the bodies, taking time to search them and strip them of any valuables. Azul turned in time to see the man roughly closing the wagon door, and whispered a soft prayer of thanks.
*****
For Azul, the next few weeks were a new kind of hell. His wrists chaffed and bled as he was pulled along behind the bandits. They had secured one of the wagons to their horses and used it to transport their loot and what they deemed the ‘freshest’ of the merchant’s wives. The rest of the chattel were left to keep up as best they could. Azul had a number of scrapes, cuts and bruises but considered himself lucky. One of the older women couldn’t keep up and was dragged for miles before the bandits finally cut her carcass loose to attract buzzards and vermin at the side of the road. Another woman whose buck teeth, hawk nose and close set eyes made her unpleasant to look at, stumbled awkwardly and brook her leg. She screamed as she was dragged, so she was cut loose and left to die much more quickly. Azul kept his head down and focused on keeping the pace. At nights, the prisoners were given a mealy gruel and just enough water to stay alive. Clearly, the bandits did not expect to get much from them on the slave market.
Just as Azul began to despair, Korvosa appeared on the horizon. To Azul and the other prisoners, it was a welcome sight. Although everyone knew it didn’t represent their salvation, at least it meant they wouldn’t have to walk another day.
From the front of the procession, a huge man approached. His massive frame, black hair and full beard and ambling gait made him look like a grizzly with an attitude. “Ok boys, get rid of this wagon. The law dogs don’t take kindly to hijacked merchants.” The giant of a man turned to the prisoners, “Seeing as how you’ve all made it this far, I can tell you want to live. It would be a shame to have to lose you now after such a long march. I’d advise you keep your mouths shut. One word and you’ll die tired and dirty.” Without waiting for a response, he turned back to his men. “I want one man per slave. They try to speak, slit their throats. Now let’s get to auction and rid ourselves of these vermin. You can rest and drink after your slave is sold.”
The man who had initially discovered Azul positioned himself and whispered through rotten teeth, “Go ahead and cry out, boy. I like killin’ almost as much as I like screwin’.” With that, he drew his blade between his fingertips with a smile that expressed his love for violence. Azul was determined not to give him an excuse to strike until he had the upper hand.
The prisoners were marched to a holding pen, much like those used for livestock, and one of their handlers registered them with a brief description and a name they seemed to make up off the cuff. Azul was listed as ‘Runt’. In groups of ten, they were marched up onto an auction block where an auctioneer would announce prices and wait for bidders to call out their bids. Some of the early women, the ones who rode in the wagon, were repeatedly bid on until a winner was declared. One girl who looked to be about Azul’s age, apparently the merchant’s daughter, went for four platinum and 30 gold. An oily, fat man wearing a loose fitting red and blue silk outfit complete with red satin slippers rubbed his bejeweled hands together as he approached to claim his new property, “Oh, we’re going to have a lovely time tonight, sweet thing. A lovely time indeed.” The girl looked back over her shoulder for some sign of rescue as he marched her away, but none was forthcoming.
Azul was marched up with the second group to be sold. The girl to his left was placed up for auction and Azul scanned the crowd as her price was determined, hoping to spot Mico. He knew Mico could never have kept up with the pace of the bandits, but hope was all he had to hang onto at the moment. “Sold for thirty gold!” shouted the auctioneer and Azul knew his turn would be next.
Azul was distracted by the peculiar man who came to claim his new slave. He was an older man with an overflowing brown jacket. Considering the warmth of the day, that was odd enough, but what was even stranger was the tinkling and clanking the jacket made as he approached the dais. Once he got close, Azul could tell that his jacket was filled with potions and vials. While he didn’t know much about alchemy, he knew an alchemist when he saw one. Those vials might be the key to his escape. His feet were bound, but his hands were free. As the alchemist came close, Azul leaned forward as though he were vomiting. He attempted to reach into the jacket, but his manacled feet betrayed him. He fell forward as his feet became tangled. The alchemist tripped over him and fell prone on top of him. Azul felt something solid press against his face just before he heard shattering glass. One of the vials burst and a green liquid covered his face. Azul felt an instant’s warmth before the searing pain hit. Screaming incoherently, Azul fell into a vortex of pain. Then he felt nothing. His last thought was that this was a horrible way to die.
******
Chanting voices. Azul just wanted to be left alone, but the voices wouldn’t let him rest. Along with the sound came a force that kept pulling at him. He tried to lay down, to be left alone, but the chanting voices were persistent. Gradually, he became self aware. Behind the voices, he heard a discordant voice. This one was not chanting. This one was sharp and angry. The combination felt like a hot needle in a nest of downy feathers.
“Look, I didn’t even want the stupid thing. Just give him the basic healing. I refuse to pay more than I must to save him. Since I had to buy him off the auctioneer, I WILL get some use out of him, but I don’t care if he’s pretty.”
A placating voice replied, “But sir, it would only be a few more silver for us to restore him. He was brought here so soon after the incident, his skin pleads for mending.”
“I don’t care if you could do it for free. I think the bastard did it on purpose and got what he deserved. If I wasn’t forced to pay fifty gold for ‘ruining the merchandise’, I’d have let him die right there on the street.” At this last, Azul fell back into semi-consciousness.
*****
Mico was exhausted and filthy. Halflings on foot were not built for cross-country traveling but he had persevered and finally made it to Korvosa. He lifted a ham hock from a peddler’s cart and crept into what appeared to be a textile warehouse. He devoured the meat and collapsed behind a pile of burlap. Tomorrow he would search for his friend.
*****
Two weeks had gone by, and no sign of Azul. Mico had checked all of the standard industries where back-breaking labor was required. For a full week, he had searched the fields until he determined that his friend was not amongst the labor force. The following week he spent examining various foresters, miners, stoneworkers and couriers to no avail. Several times over those weeks, he considered the probability that his friend had died on the march and he had missed the body. Or that he had been killed immediately after capture and disposed of before they set off. With his resolve waning, he began to consider his alternatives. He would need to keep moving. He was still in thieves’ guild territory and he knew they would be looking for him after the incident in Nisroch. First things first, he would need some money. Tonight, he would look for a big score that would give him enough funding to get out of the guild’s range.
*****
Mico shivered as he watched the jewelry shop. Located along merchant’s row in the upper class area of town, there appeared to be reasonable security. He wished Azul was around as he was always more skilled at finding and disarming traps. Mico hoped he could avoid them altogether. Mico waited as the shopkeeper exited the store, locking the door behind him. As dusk approached, the shopkeepers tended to step out for an evening before returning to their homes on the second floor. After spending all day in the same building, the need to stretch their legs became overwhelming. The elderly jeweler walked to the store next to his, an alchemist shop, and pushed open the door.
He yelled in through the open door, “Come on, Artis. I need a drink and I’m too old to stand here waiting all day.”
A voice inside responded, “Give me a minute, Gilmore. I got stuck with new labor a few weeks ago and I’ve had to babysit the bastard ever since. I finally got some work out of him today, but I don’t trust the little s*&!. I’ll be down as soon as I lock him up.”
Shortly thereafter, an elderly man with a large brown overcoat exited the building, locking it behind him. He spoke to his friend as they walked away, “I swear, that punk is just biding his time before he tries to pull something over on me. I don’t know where he came from, but he’s an unsavory character if I’ve ever seen one. I keep him pretty drugged up, but eventually the cost of drugs will outweigh his usefulness. Honestly, I should just . . . “ and with that, the men walked out of earshot.
Mico sat staring at the alchemist’s shop for a few minutes. Surely not. The odds were this was some other slave. But Mico had to check. With ease belying his size, he sprang up the lamppost and onto the roof of the jeweler’s shop. From there, he leapt onto the slim window ledge on the second floor of the alchemist building. He jiggled the window and slowly worked the lock open. Once inside, he dropped to the floor and silently crept across the room. Carefully opening the door, he stepped into the hallway and down the stairs. He saw a barred door and determined this would be location where the unknown slave was being held. Climbing on the counter, he was able to lift and remove the bar. Inside, he saw a man sitting with his head in his hands. As the man looked up, Mico took a step back in revulsion. The hideously scarred face brightened in recognition. With melted lips, the man-thing spoke.
“Mico.” Exhaustion and relief fought each other in Azul’s voice. Mico openly wept as he freed his friend from his bonds.