From alt.pub.dragons-inn Wed Dec  1 17:30:35 1993
Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!pa.dec.com!nntpd2.cxo.dec.com!nntpd.lkg.dec.com!crl.dec.com!crl.dec.com!caen!cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu!344lwkc
Organization: Central Michigan University
Date: Tue, 30 Nov 1993 14:03:27 EST
From: Mike Sander <344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Message-ID: <93334.140328344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Kidnap] Brent: Role Playing
Lines: 171

[ADMIN: A new thread and a new style/POV for me.  Comments on either
 welcome; per usual, feedback is always appreciated...]

I came onto the Street of Avenging Angels, travelled East on it for a block
or so, then turned South towards Dragon's Lane, on a direct path for the
Chundering Chimera.  Not that I had any designs of entering that dive; this
route was just part of my normal patrol through Generica.

Of course, "normal" was often a bad choice of words, and such was the case
tonight.  True, there was no riot, no celebration, or anything like the
meteorites I'd had to deal with yesterday.  But on the last few streets I'd
been having a feeling that _something_ was odd.  My feelings such as this
had too often proven to be correct.  It took a few more blocks, and some
careful listening, but I soon felt I knew the problem: someone was following
me.

Of course, I've been wrong before.  So to make sure, I stopped beneath a
torch hanging on the wall of a nearby building.  I knelt and pretended my
boots needed to be retied.  Actually, I was looking back, seeing whether my
"shadow" wanted to fight or simply check up on me.  Darkness prevented me
from seeing much normally, but the infrared vision I'd inheritered from my
mother told me something lie in the shadows.  And by the way it was slowly
advancing, I guessed that they weren't thinking about offering to buy me a
drink.  They probably would prefer a nice, dark alley to try to jump me in,
I realized.  That was fine with me; I was confident I could get the upper
hand.  I lept to my feet and sped off to the other side of the alley,
dashing through the shadows.

The sound of hurried footsteps greeted my ears, and I couldn't help but
smile.  Either my pursuer was inexperienced enough not to know when they had
been caught, or else they were singly after _me_, and either way I could
turn things towards my advantage.  I ducked into the next alley, bracing
myself against the wall.  Soon, my follower came close, and I reached for
them.

I hooked one arm around their lower chest easily enough, but only quick
reflexes prevented more than a mumble from being heard.  After all, I hadn't
expected a kid.  _Especially_ not one of those transformed people I'd read
about, one whose body resembled that of a seal's.  Species notwithstanding,
I judged that the figure was female by her shape and style of clothing,
maybe twelve years old by her size.  Besides some filthy rags that often
passed for clothing in Low City, around her neck she wore an amulet baring
a silver dove, the symbol of Feresha.

That answered most of my questions.  Sure, the Temple of Feresha was a
perfectly valid priesthood as far as I knew.  But once the Thieves' Guild
trusted you enough, you could also learn that it sometimes marked its
members.  It was and item of two identities, like myself.

"So, what have you got for me?" I asked, tentatively releasing my right
hand from her mouth, and grabbing what passed for her shirt collar with it.

"Mebbe nuthin' 'cept a dagger in da belly, less you're who I'm afta," she
snapped, baring her teeth in an attempt to look as menacing as possible.

I almost laughed at the expected threat.  I knew I had the total advantage,
and that it was lucky for her I was nicer than a lot of the people she'd
meet on the streets.  That didn't mean I couldn't talk the talk, though.
"Listen, I can tell you're a runner for the Guild.  If it helps, my name's
Brent.  Though I suggest telling me your business anyway.  Or else the guard
might _force_ it out of you."  It was largely a bluff, but one that I felt
would work.

The girl didn't back down though, I had to give her credit for that.  In
fact, her look turned rather relaxed.  "Oh.  You's da one, den.  A guy from
da 'ven told me ta set up a meetin' wif ya in Thrimm's Gardens."

"Are you trying to cause trouble, or just make sure I am who I say?  Every
good thief knows the only thing that place is good for is getting lost..."

She lost some of the fire in her eyes, and, in a slightly weaker voice said,
"Be in back a' Skimer's store in an hour."

I gave her a long hard look, before flly releasing her.  "You're just lucky
I'm on my way to a payday that's more than worth the trouble you gave me," I
snarled.  Of course, I didn't doubt for one second that the Guild had told
her to be extra careful.  I reached into a pouch, pulled out a few coins,
and dropped them into her somewhat webbed hand.

I watched her eyes grow wide, to almost the size of the two gold pieces I had
given.  Considering this was _twice_ the amount the Guild would expect to get
a share of, she immediately ran off, as if fearing I'd change my mind.

I smiled, guessing at what the girl would say in her report to the Guild.
Probably something about how I had appeared as tough as any guard, until an
opportunity came up.  Then I'd acted as expected, without a trace of trouble
or ill will.  Or at least I hoped it would be this way, since that was
exactly the image I wanted to present.

* * * *

Approximately an hour later, I passed the darkened door of Skimer's shop.
At this time of night, even Borret wouldn't think of being open; most of the
people about in Low City now would either be happy to steal you blind, or
preferred to be destructive at the bar of their choice.  I headed into the
alley on the building's left side, momentarily staying near a torch hooked
into the wall.  I had barely entered when I noticed what I assumed was my
contact: a man dressed in thick black clothing which pretty much disguised
every feature one could.

"Hi there," came a rough but friendly voice my way, as the man ruffled
seemingly randomly through some trash.  He whistled a small tune and started
to walk away, before turning back for no apparent reason.  "Feresha serves
us well." he said, before refocusing his attention on the trash, and
placing bits of it on himself.

As someone who'd spent most of their life surviving on the streets, I was
half-tempted to get out of there before the man did something even _more_
crazy.  And I just might have, if I hadn't recognized the code phrase.  I
walked over next to him, and replied, "But Gods help those who help
themselves."

The cloaked man turned toward me with a wide grin.  "So, you're Brent, our
guard 'assistant'."

"Yes, I'm Brent.  'Assistant' might be too strong a word, though things such
as gold _have_ been known to change a guard's opinion before."

"I'm sure something can be worked out." The contact lifted one of the trash
containers, revealing a small bag.  He picked it up, affording me a small
look inside, showing a fair-sized pile of gold.

I relaxed my stance, and put on a small grin.  "Looks good so far.  What's
the job?"

"Well, mainly we need you to help someone check out a place on Merchant's
Hill."

"What's the catch?  Last time I knew, just looking was free..."

"Our business is not necessary yours.  At least until we know you're in."

"Oh, I'm in all right, as long as that gold's real." I stressed.  Even in
this light I had enough skill to see that it _was_, but there was no reason
for my companion to know that.  "I just need more details.  Otherwise, if
some thief trying to go over one of those walls gets caught by half a dozen
guards, it's not _my_ fault."  At that moment, I wished I could have seen
what expression the contact held to the implied threat, but it was hidden,
like the rest of him.

"Fine then.  If you want another bag like this," he held up the pouch, "you
can meet a kid named Kim tomorrow night at the Spitting Cobra.  You'll find
out what you need to know there."

"Kim, huh?  Never heard of her.  Still, I must be doing _something_ right,
if I get to work with a fem," I said in a purposely lecherous voice, using
the Low City term for a woman.  My grin was genuine though -- the more
"faults" I openly showed, the better chances of people "conning" me into
more jobs like this, and the deeper in the organization I could get.

When the contact only pretended to be fascinated by the garbage again, I got
the picture, picked up the bag, and began to leave.  For good measure, I
added in a loud voice, "All right, I'll let you go tonight.  But don't let
me catch you trespassing again!"

I walked away with a wide grin.  In the Guard, those who didn't think I was
a spy for them in the Guild generally had no idea of any connection.  But in
the Guild, many who didn't think me on their side against the Guard thought
I was simply on the take.  And it seemed like I was right about this job
coming from one of those sources.  And I would go along with what they
wanted, until I found out what was going on, and who was behind it.

And as far as the money was concerned, what did I care?  I had enough to
survive on, something that would continue as long as my jobs held.  Some of
the money would go for equipment or personal expenses, but most of it would
end up in the hands of the needy.  I didn't usually have the cash to give to
charity, but I always found that sending part of the Guild's money there was
too ironic to resist.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mike Sander 344lwkc@cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu