Reorganizing at the Legion post, we come to the realization that only the guild could have possibly arranged the assassinations of late. We need to get to the bottom of this and that means going straight to the top of the thieves guild food chain. We need to contact Jasmine.
Jasmine is the current leader of The Silent Blade. Her base of operations is said to lie beneath Krieger And Sons Supply, deep within the bowels of the black market on the southern end of town. The entire lower half of this city is seedy, unpleasant, and offends me at my most base level but I must go into the belly of the beast to have any chance of slaying it.
We make our way through town. Approaching Krieger And Sons Supply I sense that all eyes are upon our every move. Upon arrival it is obvious that we are expected. They invite us in with open arms and quickly ushered through a secret passage. The hidden door leads us down to the sewers and catacombs of the city. These tunnels, both ancient and recently excavated, are difficult to navigate at best. Our guide moves quickly, darting down passage after passage, doubling back and generally making it difficult to figure where are heading. Finally we make it to the entrance of a temple dedicated to the god of thievery, Eloheleah.
Ushered into a small room we finally come face to face with Jasmine. Jasmine is a beautiful woman except for the jagged scar that crosses her entire neck. Competition must be fierce for the head guild seat. The end result of her attack has been the loss of her voice, so she answers our questions by writing notes. She is not responsible for the murders and has no idea who is. However she is willing to scry for us for a small fee. A few gold pieces later and fifteen minutes later we are presented with only one word… Raza. Jasmine used to employ him but recently they terminated his contract. Apparently he took his work a bit too seriously.
Our new information in hand, we are guided back through the maze of tunnels and cast out into the red light district. As if to mimic the actions of mornings past, eight masked men in light armor attack us. They barely put up a fight. We are interrogating the remaining attackers, with Gerard pinning one against the wall of a shop when an arrow splits his skull in two with a greasy thump. Gerard stumbles into the open with three more arrows protruding out his back. Four archers assail us from the building across the street. Under a hail of arrows I grab the one remaining attacker and throw him into the alley, hopefully out of harms way. There is a mad rush across the street as we all attempt to end this quickly.
Rushing up the stairs I see one of the archers being shoved out the window on the third story. His screams are silenced by a dull thud a second later. The other three fall to sword and fist alike. Just when things seem to be under control and we may be safe, I see figures rushing up to the roof. In hot pursuit, I come upon Gerard engaging the cloaked stranger. Before I can react, there is a flash of steel, the sounds of armor rending, Gerard cries out in agony and drops to the floor. Knowing my companions are close behind, I leave Gerard to their care, and give chase. This beast cannot escape!
On the edge of the rooftop he patiently awaits my attack, and I oblige him. Charging in, thrashing, slashing and thrusting, pure rage is harnessed by skill honed over years of practice and is focused into two strikes landing true. A sword glances off my shield, my training seeming to pay off where Gerards failed him. The glancing blow draws my attention to the left. Unfortunately the first strike is only a ploy to draw my attention away from the real threat coming from the right. His blade pierces between the thin steel plates that cover my vital areas. My breath catches in my throat as I fall to the roof at my feet. Pain sets in as I watch my lifeblood pool and creep across the cold stone.
Blackness. |
