Give and Take (L 2.2)

Location: The Drowned Rat
Time: Evening



Litch,

You enter the Drowned Rat for the parley with Lucky Strike - he's brought a half-dozen Sipps, but he's sitting alone at a table near the back like a single stone cutting a raging river. The music and people surge around you as they hop and dance to the chaotic music. It's incredibly loud here, the kind of noise that makes your jaw hurt from clenching.

What Talons, if any, did you bring along for this little chat?

What do you do?

Like the first time at the Drowned Rat, I only bring a pair of Talons with me, because two are needed. Shrike - who is worth then Sipps on her own - walks by my side, shoving patrons out of the way of my path. Kestrel entered ahead of us, walking both the perimeter and through the sea of people to scout ahead. I would have liked to bring Mynah along, her level head would have an emotional balm. But she and Jackdaw hadn't yet returned from their mission to the Towers when we left the Roost.

I easily spot Lucky sitting at a table, waiting for me to join him. Instead, I direct Shrike and Kestrel to another table near the Sippian leader. He chose the venue; I choose the stage. And I have his pet.

Odd. I didn't expect him to regard her with...feeling. "The girl is fine, Lucky. Why don't you come over here and sit with me? My birds will fetch drinks for us." I beckon to and empty chair. With a hand gesture, I signal to both Talons to leave the table. I lean over to Kestrel and whisper in her ear before she leaves. "Get a glass of whatever piss-water they serve here for him. I don't need anything. And make sure his goons don't cause us any trouble."

I turn back to look over at Lucky Strike and beckon to and empty chair.

"She did." I reply, answering his question, but offering nothing more. "Helix will be well cared for, if that's your concern. She did ask me to retrieve her personal items from you. A backpack with some clothes, makeup and a few leeches. Can you have that delivered to the Roost for her?"

"Not good odds for you, Lucky. Probably why you haven't tried." I lean forward myself, closing the gap even further. "Why do you care so much about her, lad? I was there the night you took her, remember? Why did your advisor tell me she was your slave?" I watch him closely: his eyes, the corners of his mouth, the set of his shoulders. What will his body tell me that his voice disguises?

Lucky doesn't press the issue and I don't lord it over him. I surmise that it's the pain he's in that made him lash out verbally. "A name? Is that what she was doing with the Vaulters? Seeking this name for you?" Helix had mentioned someone named 'Wells' who was with Lucky when she was taken and might come after her. That's either the name of another Sippian I've not heard of, or it belongs to the Vaulter kingpin. I'm banking on the latter. "If so, then it seems you might have your answer or at least a lead. Is that not explicit enough?"

I nod, verifying that I do understand. While it's necessary that I project strength and control in front of Lucky Strike, I don't want to make the Sippians into enemies. Hard Strike and I shared a cordial rivalry and I would like to continue that legacy with her son, if possible. If all he wants from Helix is a name, I don't see him as an obstacle to my own purpose with her. She might be holding on to the knowledge as some kind of leverage over him, but I doubt she would refuse him if she knew someone at the Belly would take her place. I file that piece of information for my own use, should the girl prove stubborn in the future.

"I understand, Lucky. I'll get the name for you and you can deliver her things to the Roost. In person, if you like. We don't dispose of every body that walks through our doors." I grin, making light of the rumor about our reputation. "You're doing a fine job, lad." I throw him a bone. "She'd be proud of you." I murmur in a low, private tone.

I nod my agreement. Hard Strike's assassination must indeed be avenged. Lucky has my support in spirit, though the path is his alone to walk. Any intervention would rob him of his destiny. My wings carry me along a different route. That went well. Though I might still have to deal with her other suitor. "Did Wells Fargo survive, Lucky?"

Never asked. Why would Helix hang onto that bit of information, when it could have elevated her status from serf to strategist? Was she selling out that name to Wells? Is she playing at a bigger game? If she is, then she is a greater dissembler than I would have realized. She might be pretending to be a pawn when she's really the queen.

I nod for the girls to return to the table. "Meeting's over. All he wants is information that only Helix can give. Something about a name. I'm guessing it has to do with who murdered Hard Strike, based on what he revealed." I confide to my Talons. "Did either of you learn anything interesting?"

I take in the intelligence they've scraped from around the bar. Benson and Hedges piloting the Sippians would not normally give me a great deal of concern. It'd be a shame to lose a potential quasi-ally in Lucky Strike, but under the helm of those two deck-dolts, the Sippians would quickly crash and burn and someone else would take over. But with a large, sea-going vessel in their control? They could wreck some real damage. Or have leverage to take whatever they want.

"Good work. Both of you. I think we may have to help young Lucky see that the Talons are his best allies. Kestrel, any idea where Hedges likes to spend his evenings? I don't suppose it's here, is it?" If only we could get so lucky. I huff a short laugh to myself as I realize the irony.

I nod in affirmation with Kestrel's plan. "Do it." I turn to face my fighter. "What kind of mayhem did you hear them mention regarding their big ship? Anything I need to be worried about?"

None of the intelligence she gives me is good. My thoughts shift back to Helix. What was she doing at the Vault? Was...is she in the employ of those fat cats as a spy among the Sippians? Is she a double-agent of a sort? Or is she just a girl with incredible power caught in the middle of a power struggle?

The potential alliance of Rafters and Boaters makes sense, as much as I loathe the idea. Canary might have more knowledge of how likely that partnership is to forming. But Canary is currently ferrying Edmund...Syd to the Fountains. And those clean freaks might also be involved with powers in the Tower. Is it Lucian, as Syd suspects? Or perhaps Millions? So many threads are creating a knot in the center, but I sit in the darkness without the ability to unravel a single one of them.

"I don't know, Shrike." I admit. "But Helix will be able to shed light on the matter for us. It's why she is so important. She sees and hears things we don't have access to. She is truly blessed of the Gray Wing." I push myself back from the table and rise to my feet. "But we are not without our own power. Let's find Hedges and see what this would-be usurper knows."

The immediate emotion I feel at Shrike's warning is anger, but I'm not sure whether I'm angry at her or afraid that I've misinterpreted the Gray Wing entirely and could wind up looking like a misguided fool. I bite off the first reply that springs into my mind, clearing my throat instead. "I know you mean well, Shrike. I know you rely on your instinct and your gut is rarely wrong. But perhaps you could benefit from having a little more faith. If not in me, then in the Gray Wing, eh?" It's a reprieve and I try to make it as kindly as I can, but there's an edge to my voice. I hear it. I know she will too. "Let's focus on our finding our quarry instead of conjuring potentials."

Shrike offers no further doubts and you leave the Drowned Rat behind. Kestrel joins you as you mount up and ride out on the waters in search of Hedges and Pellet. Kes directs you to Raftlands where she heard the pair can be found tonight - listening to a Rafter band of some popularity.

I can hear the din as we near the revelry. The band that's playing for the Rafter's may well be playing their theme song. I hear an accordion's swang above the collective chorus of the crowd's drunken singing. I can hear a singer growling out lyrics that the crowd repeats at a louder volume. Must be a crowd--pleaser. Drumbeats at least keep a semblance of rhythm, but otherwise it's pure cacophony. It's not to my taste, but it's better than the noise at the Drowned Rat.

We slowly skim the waves as we near the floating trailer park and I sign over to Kestrel to take the point position as we begin our search.

This is Rafter territory, so you want to stand proud and be respectful. You aren't beloved here, but the Rafters won't attack you outright without provocation. They have a decent side business here serving swill and entertaining. Still, you spot a good few Sipps around these parts, those loyal to Benson and Hedges, so you might need to be sneaky and let Shrike draw their worried eyes while you hunt down your man.

What do you do?

There's no time to have a conversation with the women on how to approach and the dim lighting prevents me from giving easily-read hand signals. I simply have to trust that Shrike and Kestrel will rely on their instincts and realize that they'll be receiving all of the attention, while I slip down a free channel between the boats, trolling the water like a wraith.

You swim and slip your way ever forward, close enough until you can spot where Pellet is sitting on Hedges' lap and they're kissing and enjoying the music in a hidden spot on a junk. You're one boat away when you climb up from the water, slick as a snake, managing to sneak onto a large covered boat that looks like a tent on a raft. So intent you are on keeping them in your sights that you miss the shadow moving behind you...

Damnation. Ladoga. I should have known to look out for her. My approach had felt too easy. Had she seen me right away? Or did I take a wrong step that put me in her sights? Doesn't matter much now, does it. "Ladoga." I mutter flatly. She wanted to join the Talons a few years back. She certainly had the martial prowess and her deadeye is even better than Javan's. I would have accepted her in a heartbeat. But when I put forth her name to the Gray Wing, my goddess has declined her entrance. She told me that Ladoga wasn't committed to the tenets of faith. That she didn't care much for the spiritual aspect at all. She just wanted a job. wanted to be more than simply another Rafter thug, thought being a Talon would elevate her in the eyes of her peers. Ladoga was committed to Ladoga and frell any authority figure who tried to guide her along any path other than the one she charts for herself.

She did not take the rejection well.

"I'm not here to cause anguish for the Rafters. I'm here for the Sippian. You've heard the rumors of their new...enterprise, I gather?"

I turn slowly, my hands out to the sides and away from my weaponry. I face Ladoga, the barrel of her assault rifle now resting against my sternum. "That answer makes me think that you are either in league with the brothers or you are scared of crossing them." I cock an eyebrow up as I divulge my interpretation aloud to her. "Does that apply to all of your people, or just to you?"

"I know you're not stupid." I reply slowly, leaving it up to her to interpret whether I'm referring to her individually or the rafters as a whole. I don't have a whole lot of leverage. She's right that the Sipp brothers likely won't target the gangs first. They've bigger fish to fry. But eventually everything has a trickle-down effect. But what happens when they're through with their first target? What stops them from becoming the kings of the city?

"Which is why you're standing here talking to me instead of escorting me out. If someone were to capture Hedges. Hold him ransom. That person would have a lot of power. But they'd also be a target...unless that person allied with someone else - temporarily." I flex out my fingers rigidly, emphasizing the non-permanent timeframe. "Say, someone who has a reputation for working with elite clientele and targeting powerful bounties. Well, that person who worked through such an ally, might become very powerful indeed."

Ladoga drinks up the tempting offer. You can see it, she wants the taste of power. She lowers her gun and is about to take you up on it when you hear a commotion from the nearby boat followed by a splash and a women's scream. Ladoga is distracted enough to look over and see what's what. You could close on her, take her gun, and beat her down, probably.

What do you do?

Come on, take the deal! Come on Ladoga... I stand still, watching her ponder my suggestions. When she turns her head at the distraction of the screams and splashes, my hand falls to my side and slides a hatchet out of the metal rings holding it in place at my side. With the other hand, I move to seize the muzzle of her weapon, pushing it up and away from my body. I the bring up the hatchet to hold in place at her throat. "Sorry lass, I can't wait forever."

My head whips around like that of a hawk when I hear my fellow Talons engage in combat. Shrike's battle cry thrums my soul to action. I can feel the longing. The numbers are very much against us, but this is what we live for. I temper the surge. I've got my own decisions to make here. I look down at Ladoga, feeling a small pang of pity for her wasted potential. I could simply let her bleed out. Let her join the nameless chorus. I could also staunch the blood, but that would take time and leave her alive to point a finger back to me.

I pull out my second axe and place it in her hands, folding her fingers around the haft. I then murmur a prayer to the Gray Wing to receive her as an offering, to not turn her back from this lost soul. With my dominant hand, I bring the blade of the hatchet across her throat, sending her - I hope - into the Gray Wing's embrace.

I stand over her body, tracing the metal of my hatchet and scraping streams of Ladoga's lifeblood along its grain. Then I draw three lines on each of my cheeks, resembling crude wings. Shrike and Kestrel have created the diversion I need. I'm heading in a straight flight path toward my target, or at least where I last saw him.

You emerge from the covered junk and head toward the boat where Hedges and Pellet were moments ago. As you leap from one boat to another, you spot Shrike fighting Hedges with one of her long knives while Hedges dodges out of the way, just barely. Hedges is bleeding from a couple of long slashes, while Shrike has a wicked gash on the side of her neck. Lying at their feet are the bodies of a pair of Rafters who are bleeding out. Kes is hidden somewhere, sniping folks. There are more Rafters rushing towards the fight, melee weapons in hand. They'll probably try to stop the fight, but once they see the corpses of their fellows, some blood will be spilled.

What do you do?

We're in it now. There is no time to pause to consider if going on the offensive in Raftland was the right move. We plan as best as we can before launching into any attack, but even the best-laid plans eventually go to dren. Now is the time to act on pure instinct and years of martial training. Looks like Hedges managed to get past Shrike's defenses, but I'd bet on my fierce raptor to exchange six blows for each one she takes. Just don't kill him...yet.

I climb to the top of a boat with a tarp-covered canopy and launch myself down onto the backs of the Rafters running towards the two combatants. With my duster fluttering behind me, I am the monsoon here to wash over Raftland. I spin and slash, duck and parry. Cutting and twisting my way to my allies' side.

You leap off one boat onto a pair of unsuspecting Rafters, slamming them to the deck. You hit them hard, but as you land, your left knee gives out on you, Litch - the product of getting old. A younger you would've landed that without a scratch a hundred times out of a hundred. This time? You take 2 Harm AP from your own body betraying you. It sucks. Shrike didn't see it - she's busy. Kestrel did, she'll be watching over you instead of Shrike now, making sure you're okay before she covers Shrike again.What do you do?

For the second time in recent history, my aging body isn't able to manage the demand I put on it. A muffled groan escapes my lips as I slide on the deck, my body going one direction and my planted leg twisting painfully another. It's probably sprained and it'll be difficult to put much pressure on it...when the adrenaline wears off. That chemical is still pumping through my veins in the moment, though and I hobble my way towards Shrike's side.

When I'm about forty feet away, I halt and chuck a hatchet underhanded towards Hedges legs, hoping to distract him if not wounding him, and giving Shrike an opening.

You plant your foot on an unsteady platform - something you've done a hundred times. Your will carried you to this point, but your knee didn't make the trip. As you swing your arm forward to throw the hatchet, your knee buckles completely, throwing off your aim and sending you to the deck. Pain shoots up your leg and blurs your vision for a few moments. You hear combat around you and lose your sense of direction.The worst part, Litch? The Rafters rush around you, like you're a downed opponent, like you've fallen, like you don't matter.

You hear Shrike dive into the water as more shots are fired - did she escape, did she fall, hard to tell.

What do you do?

I gasp as I hit the platform, my teeth clenched and wincing. This mission has been a failure, largely because of me. I pushed my body further than it could take me and now we three will suffer the consequences. I try to push myself from a prone position to my knees, but my limbs can't take the pressure and I collapse back down. I can't see Shrike. There are too many bodies in the way and my vantage point is poor. I think the shots being fired belong to Kestrel's weapon, but I can't be certain. This is a lost cause and it's time to make a retreat.

I start to roll my body towards the dock edge, hoping the water will be kinder to my aches than the land has been. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to swim away from the chaos and locate my ski. But honestly, I just need to get away to a place where I can regroup.

They ignore you, Litch. The Rafters are more worried about Shrike and Kestrel and you're able to slink away to the water. You tread water and carefully swim back to your ski to find it untouched. Kestrel is there waiting, her rifle pointed back towards the Rafters as if one might pop up any minute. Shrike is nowhere to be found. When Kestrel urges you to go with her, what do you do?

Climbing onto my watercraft took more effort than I would've liked, but I'm on it now. My knee is still humming with a dull ache, but now I can center my bodyweight on something else. The smart move would be t retreat to safety and wait for Shrike to join us, but I haven't made the smart move once in the last hour and I don't intend to do so now, with one of my own possibly still in harm's way. I lean over to her and say, "We need to find her, but let's stick together and stay away from the main commotion. Maybe she's swimming back to us."

Kestrel's right. I'm a liability in my current condition. I don't admit as much, merely nodding and saying, "Yeah, fine. You go ahead, I'll take our rides out to the mouth." I inform her, referring to the entrance to Raftland. "Don't engage, though, unless it's to save her. It's enough of a frellup as it is."

You retreat with skis in tow to the mouth and wait for what feels like half an hour but is probably five minutes. Eventually, you spot a small boat with a noisy outboard motor coming your way. Kestrel is at the rear of the boat guiding it towards you and a very wet and angry Shrike is huddled in the middle with a blanket around her shoulders. They abandon the boat and get on their skis to ride off with you towards The Roost again. Shrike mutters that she "didn't get Hedges" and that's all she'll say about the utter failure that was your kidnapping mission.

End Scene