This post is part of my Blades in the Dark solo play.
A new gang?
The setup
My Rooks have brought me a delicious rumour, a new vice gang, The Copper Rats, are making really smart, savvy moves. The cherry on the cake is they're apparently guided by the ghost of a legendary street operator. If I can get to meet this ghost, perhaps I can persuade them to come and work for me instead.
I asked Nyryx to reach out to them, in ger role as a courtesan it is not unheard of for her to set up meetings between her clients and the seedier underbelly of Duskwall. I've instructed her to tell them I am "Mr Algernon", the owner of The Gossamer Cat seeking to add Elysium Seeds to the brothel's repertoire.
Nyryx agrees to this small deception but makes it obvious that this favour is the kind that is returned. I assure her it's no pineapples this time, that particular misadventure nearly ended our friendship.
The job
The day of, I dress myself in my finest attire and don a wig and fake moustache to appropriate the look of the upstanding "Mr Algernon", the room we're meeting in is set to perfection, I seat myself behind the intimidatingly large desk and move a whisky decanter to my side.
My marks arrive, Mortain, an arrogant yet fierce Skovlander, and his lackey Pevrel, a wiry looking Severosi who nods three times to anything Mortain says. I, of course, pour us all a drink, swilling mine about as we talk.
Polite overtures are made but my attempts to convince them to summon their ghostly patron are stonewalled, they are happy to confirm that they have one however, and I get a name - Weaver Dalmore, an ex member of The Crows a few decades back.
Their stonewalling is all well and good, I had made a contingency plan should they not be amenable, and as the glug down the finest whisky The Gossamer Cat has to offer, the trance powder I had laced it with begins to take effect.
The trance powder, while seeming like a stroke of brilliance, turned out to be a double edged sword indeed. Even though The Copper Rats where now pliant enough to summon good Weaver, their minds where too addled to navigate the ghost field.
I have never been adept at calling on ghosts, however I give it my best shot, trying to call forth Weaver, I push myself to what feels like the edge of sanity, staring into the ghost field I see only dim shades and shadows. I hear a mocking laugh at my efforts as the ghost field dims around me. Damn it!
Although the mocking ghost seems intent to watch me suffer and flail around, I still fear he may leave. Although Pervel failed to summon him, perhaps Mortain will have better luck. I speak Weavers name into my spirit anchor, in a bid to keep him around and press it into Mortain's hand, commanding him to summon his master. That went about as well as I could expect, the man is no Whisper. What's more his efforts seemingly burned out the trance powder from his blood.
Roused to wakefulness Mortain curses me and pulls his pistol. This is precisely the situation I wanted to avoid, oh well, I reason that if I can't summon the ghost, at least I can put an end to this gang. I pull a blade, concealed in my sleeve and leap over the desk, I see in that moment though, that no matter what I do, he will be able to get off a shot. And he does, right into my shoulder. If not for my quick thinking it would have blasted straight through the bone, a quick repositioning makes it a clean through and through, though no less painful. My revenge is swift as blade meets flesh.
With the Bluecoats surely on there way I move to make this look like a deal gone wrong. A quick bullet through the heart for Pervel, who still remains entranced. The second gunshot brings more hysteria from outside, I can feel the clock ticking. I remember I had papers forged for Mr Algernon, perhaps if I can disguise Mortain as Mr Algernon, with these papers on his person, I can escape in his clothing.
It is only once I am standing in my boxers and socks that I realise my error, the Bluecoats have arrived on the scene, with shouted voices pointing them to the room I am in. There is no time, I run to the window aiming to sneak out into the night, sneak into another brothel and steal some johns clothing. I look behind at my discarded clothes realising that I am leaving behind valuable evidence that with some work could be linked to me, but I have no choice.
The escape
The streets of Silkshore are perhaps no stranger to underdressed men roaming dark alleyways. That doesn't stop a carriage of 3 Bluecoats spotting me as I exit the alleyway and move in to question me. I decide to play the part of victim, spinning a yarn about a crazed gunman in The Gossamer Cat moving from room to room shooting people, I point to my shoulder as the proof. They buy it and my relief washes over me, but then is caught dead when one of the begins to escort me to the carriage to give my statement.
Well, at least they leave me with this lone Bluecoat, I convince him to take my statement in the carriage, due to my wardrobe predicament and he obliges. As he closes the door of the carriage I leap into action, putting the man in a chokehold and holding on for dear life. It takes some time for him to finally sleep, and my shoulder sings with pain, but it's done.
Finally, I think! Time to take his clothes and make my escape in this convenient carriage. I have no such luck however, in the time it has taken for my Bluecoat friend to take a nap, it seems his fellows have cleared The Gossamer Cat and the two officers I had spoken with before are returning to the carriage.
What I would give for 5 minutes to myself with which to steal a mans trousers. However there is no time, I sneak out of the other carriage door and attempt to loose myself in the streets of Silkshore. My luck it seems has different plans, the laughter of onlookers alerts the Bluecoats to a near naked man creeping around and they give chase.
I run but wounded as I am they catch up to me easily, wrestling me to the ground and restraining me, I rain them with blows but the effect is that of a pestering gnat it seems. Thoroughly bested, hands fastened behind my back, face down on the floor I look up. Like a gleaming jewel in front of me I see The Jaded Pear, the very same public house I had arranged to meet The Rooks in after the meet!
My swift warning whistle it seems is clear enough to be heard from within the tavern and as the doors swing open my beautiful Rooks stand gloriously silhouetted. I grin at them and beseech their aid, my compatriots spring into action, but warriors they are not. Two armed Bluecoats against my half sauced comrades proves to be a swift lesson in street justice.
As my fellows lay on the ground groaning, I think to myself, I have been going about this all wrong. What are The Bluecoats if not just another gang in this corrupt city? I can simply make them an offer. To my joy, my luck turns, and it works! One quick mention of Elysium Seeds and I see the hunger in one of the Bluecoats eyes. I promise her a fair share, if only I am let out of my current predicament.
A swift blow of her truncheon to the back of her friends head, a turning key in a lock and your writer stands triumphant! If still trouserless.
We walk together away from the madness, and I ask if I might borrow her cloak.
The aftermath
Taking out such a minor player earned us but a meagre amount of reputation, maybe it would have been more had I managed to make contact with the spirit of Weaver Dalmore.
With The Copper Rats out of the way though we were able to make 4 coin this month, 1 coin went to The Red Sashes as ward boss of Silkshore, and 1 coins worth of product was required to payoff the Bluecoat who let me go, Culai. Perhaps she could be a useful contact in the future though.
Due to several Bluecoat officers seeing my face, plus my gear being left behind with the bodies at The Gossamer Cat, we took a fair amount of heat for this job.
Not two days after the job I am drinking with the Rooks in The Jaded Pear, planning our next move, when a troop of Bluecoats bust through the door. The interrogation is brutal and long, my Rooks assured me they tried to pay for my release, but the Bluecoats demanded more than they had. I admit that yes I was there at the Gossamer Cat that evening, and yes I did see the deceased. I also begrudgingly admit that yes I did run away from the building in my altogether. Crucially though I do not say the words of 'Yes I killed them' so am let out with a warning that soon they will have enough evidence to put out a warrant for my arrest. The posters go up a few days later, looks like I can't drink in The Jaded Pear anymore.
After the beating I decided it was time to get a healer on the books, I search around for someone suitable but all I find is a local alchemist. He is prepared to treat me, and The Rooks, in order to test his alchemical preparations. It's not the best deal but its the best I am going to get right now. A couple of draughts later and I can't say that I feel that much better for it.
After all this, perhaps a bit of Tycherosi Smoke will put me in a better frame of mind, I head over to Traven's Smoke Shop in Coalridge, spending a little more than I would usually to sooth my soul and calm my nerves. It does little to help, despite the amount I buy. The stupor is blissful, but the worry remains.
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