Tempers Ball

Torkan slipped in the back door to his house. Avoiding the few servants which he possessed, he slipped up to his room to change clothes. What he wore was fine for working, but in his off time he preferred to wear garments which were more suited to his station in life. When he was dressed, he retired to his library where he could indulge in a snifter of fine brandy. By no means was he wealthy, but he managed to make enough money so that he had been able to buy himself a nice piece of property large enough to require a few servants to oversee it. His land, his servants, his fine clothing all served to allow him to indulge in his fantasy that he was one of the gentry which he so longed to be. Nothing would ever change his heritage though. He'd been born the son of peasants and no matter how fine he dressed, he wouldn't be able to escape that fact.

While he sat in the library, one of his few servants entered, with a filthy looking man close upon his heels. Immediately, Torkan recognized one of his business associates, and he was furious that the man had dared come to his house in person. He dismissed the servant, nonchalantly, and turned his attention to the filthy man who stood before him. His voice was cold as ice as he spoke.

It had better be important for you to come here yourself insteading of sending a message the usual way. Tell me quietly what news you bring and then leave out the back way.

Torkan listened as the man quickly told him that one of their associates had been captured by the tall, strange-looking man who'd accompanied the women. He frowned. He had to get a message across to the two of them....one which they'd be sure to understand and which would succeed in making them forget their search.

As he sipped his brandy, a plan began to form in his mind. An evil smile slowy worked it's way across his face as the details became clearer to him. Finally, he abandoned his brandy, left the library, took his cape as well as his cane, and headed out into the night.

A brisk walk through town brought them many stares before Previn pulled Issilk into a dim alley. Holding a finger to his lips Previn whispered

Okay, I managed to confirm that our man frequents the Drunken Monkey and he could show up there any time. Oh, and his preferred drink is Alfus beer. So, what did you manage to find out?

Previn's eyes widened with suprise when he heard what Issilk had learned and how he learned it.

But won't your source of information tell his employer?

Catching the look in Issilk's eyes Previn understood that the informant would definitely not be sharing anything with his employer or anyone else for that matter.

You learned what type of drink the kidnapper likes and where he sometimes drinks. Considering what I managed to find out I would have to say that your method of gathering information is insufficient. We are going to do it my way. C'mon.

They went back to the alley where Issilk had been waiting for Previn. Prodding through the pile of rubbish under which he had left the dead informant Issilk did not find the body.

Well, it would appear that someone knows of my informants demise. Fair enough. Perhaps that they know we are coming for them will cause them to reveal themselves. I'm not content to wait though. Let's see if we can find and then get past the secret door he came out of.

Looking to where Issilk indicated Previn began to closely examine the brick work of the wall. After a several long moments he drew a long thin piece of metal from beneath his shirt. It was dark and quivered as he moved it towards the wall. With a deft touch he slipped it between two of the bricks. There was a softly audible click and a segment of the wall moved outward a fraction of an inch. Looking over his shoulder he whispered to Issilk.

Well, and there we have it. Do try to be quiet good sir as I do think it wise to announce our presence with authority. Just yet anyway.

With a swift tug from his fingertips the hidden door swung open to reveal an unlit hallway. Drawing a dagger, and not waiting for Issilk to follow, Previn made his way inside. After about ten feet the passage turned to the right and went up a narrow stair. Near the base of the stairs on the left wall there was an eyeslit which must have been cleverly concealed from the other side. Stopping long enough to take a peak. The room beyond looked to be a nicely furnished sitting room. Empty though so Previn continued and went up the stairs.

When he reached the top he came to a blank wall. Through it he was able to hear indistinct voices. All he could be sure of was that there were multiple people beyond that wall and that someone was shouting. Turning he saw Issilk at the bottom of the stairs and motioned for him to stop and hold his position.

Torkan hastened towards one of the local taverns, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around him. In truth though, he was well aware of whether or not he was being followed. He purposely chose a tavern which had a back door, and availed himself of it.

Once out of the tavern, he waved down a coach, and headed towards the house where the females were being kept. He used the back entrance and hastened to where the women had been kept. There, he gathered up bits of their clothing which had been left behind. He concealed it upon his person in the voluminous folds of his cloak and hastened back the way he had come.

Once back in the coach, he headed to where he'd instructed the body to be taken. He made sure he soaked both bits of clothing in the mans blood before giving orders that it be disposed of someplace where it wouldn't be found anytime soon.

He then took the blood-soaked bits of cloth and headed towards the inn where the strangers had acquired lodging upon their arrival. He went to the inn-keeper and was given a key. The key went to a room which was unoccupied upstairs. A few moments later, the inn-keeper entered the same room.

Take this to the constable. Convince him that it was found in the room the strangers occupy. Convince him that the women haven't been seen and that their men must have committed some heinous crime against them. I don't care what you tell him, but convince him to get a mob together and go after the men. The scraps of fabric belong to the women. The blood upon them should prove convincing. If not, see to it that you convince him, else something might happen to that pretty little neice of yours. It'd be a shame if she disappeared. You can use your own injuries to convince him. Explain how they were the ones responsible, and how they threatened to kill you.

The inn-keeper turned several shades of pale before settling upon a decidedly pasty gray shade. He bobbed his head several times to show that he understood, hid the scraps of fabric in his apron and hastily left the room. After waiting several long moments, Torkan left as well, leaving the key in the room. He made his way out of the inn and concealed himself in nearby shadows until he heard the unmistakeable sounds of a mob gathering fury. Moving at a quick walk, he made his way towards the direction of the sounds. Mob they might be, but they were no good without guidance. He was going to provide them just that by seeing to it that they knew which way to go to find the men. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he anticipated the coming events.

When Previn motioned him to hold at the bottom of the stairs he did, for a moment. Then, with all the stealth he could muster, which frankly was not much, he made his way to the top of the stairs. Despite his efforts several steps creaked and one actually groaned. The grey man would have expected Previn to turn and admonish him, but apparently Previn was far too engrossed in trying to hear what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs Issilk leaned forward and calmly stated in Previn's ear

Get this hidden door open or I shall go directly through the wall.

His concentration broken with a start Previn stared at his large friend for what seemed to be an incredibly long time before fiercely whispering What do you think you are doing? We don't even know how many people are behind this wall. It very well may be suicide to go in there without better information. We can't just...... Seeing the intensity in his eyes caused Previn's obstructions to falter. Well when you put it that way. Here goes nothing.

Grasping a lever on the right side of the door Previn pulled it down and quickly slid back out of the way. That was a wise maneuver as Issilk bulled his way straight into the room, hate blinding his eyes his chain already beginning its whirl.

The secret door opened and Issilk was into the room faster than one of his mass should be able to move. His chain was already moving as he took in the room. Ten foot to the far wall, twenty to the door. Four occupants. One, the best dressed and some sort of middle aged noble, or at least aristocrat was standing and had his tirade interrupted mid-word. Turning towards the grey man he had a look of shock and outrage upon his face.

In the far left corner of the room was a rather foppish looking boy. Well perhaps boy wasn't the correct term. This male was in his early twenties but looked to have never took a turn at work in his life. Across from him sat a roughly dressed man who looked to be used to getting his way always through brute force and never through his wits.

Closest to the secret door was a man in light leather armor. He was sitting in a wing backed chair and was the first to react, rising from his chair and drawing a rapier. First to rise and first to die. He was only half out of his chair when the spiked ball connected with his jaw destroying it and his life.

One step further and the brute was already out of his chair. The other ball whirled and the bruiser amazingly enough managed to through his arm up and get the chain to wrap around it leaving the spiked ball to only give a glancing blow across his shoulder. He did well blocking that blow. Unfortunately for him he didn't fare so well blocking Issilk's kick. Heavy and rude it cause massive damage to his testicles and left him on his knees. Issilk's next kick knocked him back against the chair and nearly decapitated him.

Turning to the older man Issilk stayed his hand. Glancing out the corner of his eye he yelled at the fop. Stay seated. Don't you move a damned inch.

Either the young man didn't hear, or didn't care to listen. Seeing the grey man turn back to the older man he bolted for the door. He managed to get all the way out of his chair and was reaching for the knob when Issilk spun and let the chain slide through his fingers catching it at one of the spiked heads. The other heavy spiked ball crashed into the door neatly taking the fop's right hand with it. Slipping to the floor the young man held his stump and looked at it with dazed eyes.

Turning back to the noble Issilk spoke harshly. Tell me where our ladies are.

Looking him Issilk dead in the eye the man sneered as he spoke. Obviously you have no idea who I am. I shall tell a condemned man nothing. For you most certainly will hang for what you have done here.

Taking a quick step towards the door Issilk reached down and grasped the fop by the throat. Turning back to the middle aged man he held the youngster out at arms length. Tell me what I want to know. Where are our ladies?

With incredible haughtiness the noble spoke again. Put my son down. You shall not harm him. Dung isn't allowed to harm nobility. Put him down now.

I shall not? Shall not? Damned be you I shall put him down. With a swift motion rammed his hand down and his knee up. Twas a rather messy end for the fop as his head was caught between a stone fist and an armored knee.

The body was still twitching on the floor as Issilk grasped the noble by the throat. Condemned am I? Than I shall lose nothing by one more death. Shall you tell me what I need to know or do you still think your noble blood cannot be spilled?