Ginn Locke always had a plan, Soren knew of at least three safe houses scattered across the Arkin Territory. One low rent basement apartment in Nobay under the pseudonym name Salazar Fromstead, a kind old ladies' home in Lowry where she believes him to be her son. Lastly and more recently known to Soren is the said cabin that they now stood in front of.
“This doesn’t seem to be your kinda place Ginn.” Soren said as he followed Ginn up the dilapidated porch stairs, dodging cracks and holes like land mines.
“Quite dreary, isn’t it?” Ginn said in agreement. “Nothing like Miss Grenwal’s in Lowry.” Ginn opened the creaky wooden door of the shack and revealed an open room filled with crates and barrels of weapons and rations strung out across the dusty floor. “Everything has a reason though, Soren.”
“You just left all this sitting out in the woods!” Soren said surprised.
“An abandoned rundown shack in the woods can only get two responses.” Tucken said entering in awe. “Either no one would want to live there, or someone insane does. Either way nobody is coming near this place.”
Ginn gave a nod and a pointed finger towards the lean dirty suited man. “Got a smart one here, Soren.”
“More importantly, he has knowledge that the Confederacy and the Rebels need.” Soren answered as he undressed himself of his bloodied jacket and tossed it onto the molding table to Ginn’s disapproval.
Ginn Locke’s eyes moved from the blood-stained brown jacket to Soren. “And how do you plan on getting from here to Kroy? Going through the mountains?” He scoffed at the thought.
“I expected you to have a plan.” Soren said nonchalantly as he found himself a well-made hand cannon inside one of the crates. The revolving cylinder held six shots and each chamber held its own barrel to fire from. Each barrel was ported, likely due to the powerful kickback from such a harsh weapon. He wiped some of the dust off it and checked for a makers brand only finding a name on the brass lined wood, “Goie”.
“How about you clean that dreadfully pungent blood off of you, and I go find some proper clothes so the whistle blower can take off that pompous suit finally. Then will talk.” Ginn said, disrupting Soren from his fascination with such an odd weapon.
Tucken looked at his dirt-ridden suit. At this point it was hard for him to even realize he still had it on.
Soren took a stack of clean clothing from a gaging Ginn and walked out the cabin doors. He walked behind the cabin to find a shower head attached to a small barrel of water connected to a crank. With each crank Soren added pressure to the shower head before flipping a switch and watching as the stagnant water from the barrel gushed out the shower head like a powerful rainstorm. The dried blood of the Arkin soldier finally ran down Soren’s body in a red syrup-like texture.
“I think these will suit you well.” Ginn said handing Tucken a stack of clothes and a pair of brown utility boots. “Some old clothes of an informant of mine, you two are about the same size!”
“He won’t want these back?” Tucken asked cautiously.
Ginn smirked a little before answering. “He doesn’t need them, much anymore.” He said with a wink. Tucken didn’t want to ask any more questions after that, deciding instead to hurry toward the back bedroom and change. He shed his old suit from his body and changed into the clothes of possibly dead, smugglers informant. No suits, no ties, no Oxford’s. Instead, it was a pale blue button up shirt, worn out tan chinos and a dark canvas jacket. Tucken felt out of place to say the least.
He looked at the clothing on the bed. A dirty old suit, not due to grime or dust from the tunnels, its essence, its energy was filled with dirt. The dirt of the city it was made in, the hands that sold it, and the person who wore it. Tucken could still feel its dirt on him. It was a part of him, slowly fading into his skin, but never to leave.
“Is it fitting alright?” Tucken heard Ginn call from behind the bedroom's door.
“Perfectly! Thank you!”
“Ah good then, let’s see it!” Ginn said swinging the door open nonchalantly to the bewilderment of Tucken. Ginn looked Tucken up and down with a large grin across his face. “I’d say you look better in that than my old informant did!”
“Probably not that hard to do.” Tucken murmured uncomfortably.
“Dinner is almost ready, clean up best you can and be out there soon.” Ginn closed the door as fast as he opened it leaving Tucken alone with his thoughts and his dirty old suit once again.
The table was set as best it could be, with steel bowls and mugs positioned as if they were fine dining ware along a bedsheet hiding the molding table below. In the middle of the sheeted table Ginn placed a lone candlestick. The candlelight flickered illuminating the room as it slowly darkened as the sun went down ending the harsh day.
Ginn Locke sat at the end of the table, on his left the freshly cleaned rebel took his seat pouring a bottle of Rellinstead whiskey into his mug. To the right of Ginn sat the guilt-ridden paper maker, staring at the goop in his bowl.
Ginn watched as the whistleblower grimaced at the chunky mess that sat before him. “Someone doesn’t seem to like my cooking.” He said taking a swig from his mug.
“It’s garmonbozia, creamed corn, eat it; it’ll be the best meal you’ll have for a while.” Soren said scarfing down the slop as if a wild animal was about to steal it from his hands.
“How can you eat this?” Tucken said critically.
“Welcome to being a survivor, kid. Eat what you can when you can when you're out here.” Ginn said with a wide grin on his face.
“Rule one.” Soren said after taking a big gulp of whiskey to wash down the meal. “Food doesn’t have to look good, it’s energy nothing more, nothing less. Making it look pretty or smell pretty is a luxury only some have. When you're in the trenches, it doesn’t matter what it looks or taste like, as long as it keeps you alive.” Soren said with pessimism sharpening his tongue.
“I’d eat it before he does.” Ginn added. Soren didn’t disagree with the statement; he only kept his eyes on Tucken.
Tucken wearily took a spoon from the perfectly placed line of silverware beside his bowl and scooped up the odd goop of cream and corn in front of him. Like a child eating their first vegetables, Tucken closed his eyes and shoved the spoon into his mouth. The metal tang and odd sweetness of the food sent shivers down his body, and he began to recoil as he chewed.
“Good lad!” Ginn said before turning to Soren, trying to ignore the odd scene to his right.
“We need to get across the Divide.” Soren stated matter-of-factly. His eyes never left his cup as it turned upside down and spilled the last remaining drops of whiskey down his quickly numbing throat.
The smuggler was taken back. Even as he was fighting through his meal, Tucken could see Ginn was trying his best not to show the small glimmer of fear that was building.
Ginn Locke recomposed himself quickly. “I’m sorry, rephrase that, because it sounded like an insane rambling of a mad man to me.”
“You heard right.” Soren replied by shutting down the smuggler. “I need to get him to the Confederacies leader as fast as I can. They need to be prepared.”
“The Confederacy of Free Cities has no main leader. It’s a collection of free cities, it’s in the title.” Ginn said with a sigh of exhaustion already. “Even if I could get you to the west how are you going to tell all of them, the city leaders at once?”
“We don’t need to tell them all. We just need to tell the city they are going to hit first.” Tucken answered by tossing his spoon into the empty bowl with a cold shiver and quickly slurping down the whiskey.
“The letter to Severos did state they would be landing at Kroy with Severosian ships if they agree. Our best bet would be getting to Kroy first and warning Jacoba Pearse.” Added Soren.
“Again though, how are you going to get through the Divided Mountains, let alone survive the journey. The only passage through the mountains was collapsed after a large group of escaped Rels busted through the Arkin fort there months ago!” Ginn said souring the brainstorming session for Soren and Tucken.
“You’ve had dealings in the west before, have you not?” Soren asked, his words beginning to slur slightly as he poured another cup.
“Yes, and you’ve fucked a Vanslaught’s wife, but we both learned not to do these things again, haven’t we? It’s extremely dangerous.” Ginn replied swirling his cup as he gazed into the sour whiskey sloshing about inside as he quietly thought. “I suppose...” He said, planning his next words carefully. “I suppose you could take the same passage as the Arkins plan to take.” He looked up from his whiskey cup, curious of Soren and Tucken’s reaction.
“Explain.” Soren commanded.
“I have a few contacts in the Nobay docks. It may be possible for me to twist a couple arms, line a few pockets for passage.” Ginn said as he scanned his mind for captains mad enough to voyage westward. “ It would take some time of course, but I’m sure it will be much faster than the time it shall take for the Severosian’s to stop killing each other long enough to accept the Tiso’s invitation to war.”
“You would do that for us?” Tucken asked skeptically.
“Sure, sure, why not? A war like that maybe good for business, but also good to leave me without a sweet old lady's home to lay my head.” He grinned with a snake-like smile. “I’ll head to Nobay at daybreak. You two should lay low for the time being, then head to the Nobay docks when the ruckus dies down out there.”
“I know of a place we can keep a low profile for now.” Soren answered, nodding in agreement.
“Then it’s settled, head to wherever this safe haven is, and I’ll make my way to Nobay. Meet me there before the month is out, and I’ll take you too your ship. For now, get some rest. Seems we all will have a busy morning.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Day break came quickly for the restless Huxwellian. Tucken’s eyes never seemed to close as the thoughts of Morrigan, Abney and Clara raced around his mind and weighed on his conscious like boulders. He thought about the smell from the bodies atop the Kantara, the people who fell for his actions, and Miss Sojinger, who brought him to the Wolf.
A loud banging came from his door, like the tapping of two little monsters ready to break it down and jump once again on his bed.
“Wakey, wakey, wanted man!” The whimsical yet pompous voice of the smuggler came through the door. “Time to hit the road!”
Tucken rose from the bed slowly before wiping his face with a large groan.
With a loud yawn he exited the cabin to see Soren and Ginn loading small crates onto the back of a rusted buggy.
“And look who is finally awake! Eh Soren?” Ginn said with a large smile as he nudged Soren’s shoulder.
“We’re gonna have to work on that.” Soren said as he loaded what Tucken could see was a crate of canned food, baked beans, pineapple and creamed corn. He shuddered at the thought of more. “The earlier we rise, the more of a head start we have on the Arkins. Remember that.” He said before pulling a rifle from the back of the buggy and handing it to Tucken. “When we get to where we are heading, I’m gonna make sure you know how to shoot this properly.”
“You're not taking the buggy Ginn? You’ve got a long journey.” Tucken said curiously.
“Don’t worry about me, whistleblower, I got a bike tucked away down the road, be quicker for one man.” Ginn paused for a second and pulled a small cylindrical item out of his silk cloak. “Here, take this, in case anything goes wrong, find the symbol.” He gripped Tucken’s hand and placed a cigar in it, with the odd symbol on the ring. “And please, take care of the soldier over there.” He said pointing his head to Soren. “I can tell he’s got something in his eye right now.”
“What?” Tucken asked worriedly.
“Alright let’s get a move on!” Soren called out to the two. Soren took Ginn by the hand shook. “I’ll see you in three weeks.”
“Three weeks, raggedy man. You have my word.”
“You know that’s not much.”
“I know, but you still have it.”
Soren hopped into the buggy and rumbled the engine, before letting it roar as it took off. Tucken gave one last wave to the weasel-like smuggler and the two set off down the crowned road.
The Captain and the Beast
Commander Hein hadn’t felt this small in a long time. Yet the flashes of his bloodied friend kept coming as he the halls of the Kantara grew larger and larger around him. He could feel the bleak grey concrete walls grow inch by inch accompanied by the flash of Officer Grumsby’s wheezing breaths and the Tiso’s pleasure filled grin. His heart raced as he followed the Tiso’s guards into his chamber.
The Tiso sat on his small throne with a curious look upon his childlike face.
“My Tiso.” Aldous Hein said with a bow.
“I hear that the traitor has escaped.” Reignly said coldly.
“No sir.” Hein said sharply.
“You disagree?”
“They have gotten further away, but they didn’t hide their tracks well, we can follow if we act quickly before any rain washes them away.” The Commander explained, his heart thumping in his chest like a sore.
The Tiso took a deep breath and sighed, his eyes looked tiredly at the old dog of a Commander. “What you are describing, is picking up a trail of someone who has escaped, old mutt.” The Tiso gritted his teeth and spit out his words like venom. “I have kept you around out of respect for my father and for your legacy, but it seems you don’t have the same respect for me to do your duty properly. That or your too old for anything more than a desk job.” The young ruler said as he stood up and sauntered down the small maroon stairs of his throne toward the old veteran. He paused for a moment, smugly looking up and down the decorated man before continuing with a scoff. “Honestly, you should be glad I’ve allowed you to make it this far.” He turned back toward his throne with a swivel as he adjusted his silk robe.
“Yet again you should be glad, somehow your luck has not yet run out.” The Tiso fell back into his throne and pointed towards Advisor Cullo, resting his head on his other hand. “My advisor here has made a compelling argument for you.” He said as the Commander looked up from the maroon carpeting in surprise. “I am willing to give you one last chance. Hunt down the traitor and the Wolf and bring back what they have stolen.”
“Yes, yes of course sir, thank you sir!”
“You will pick out of your company, your best platoon to take with you.”
“Of course, understood!”
“But you won’t be alone in leading them. We will be sending with you Captain Luko, along with a platoon of his own to command alongside and keep everything orderly.” The edge of the Tiso’s lips raised, holding in a dastardly grin.
Aldous’ joy turned to despair quickly. He was happy to be alive, and happy to have something more to do than keep watch and command security along the walls but being babysat by Captain Luko of all people. This was a cruel punishment for the old vet.
The large chamber doors swung open and from them appeared a tightly composed young soldier. His hair was pitch black and glossy from the grease used to keep it rigidly pulled back. The young soldier's face was marked by scars that ran from his sideburns to his chin. His chest plate was polished to perfection and his trench coat, along with the rest of his uniform, lacked a single wrinkle. The only thing off about his uniform was the small collection of bones that hung from his belt.
The young warrior stood at attention, his eyes never moving from the Tiso. “Captain Otto Luko of Unit Zero reporting your Lordship, Sir!”
“At ease, Captain.” Reignly said with a nod and a smile. “Captain, this is Commander Aldous Hein, of Fifth Company.”
Captain Luko swiveled rigidly on his heel and raised his hand in salute to the old Commander. “Sir, it’s an honor, sir.”
“Yeah, yeah, good to be working with the Skull Claimers.” Hein said with a halfhearted salute back.
“Good, now, you both are dismissed, get your men in order and head out as soon as possible. Be gone by tomorrow morning.” Reignly said with a flick of his wrist having the guards open the large chamber doors.
“Are you sure that was the right move?” Reignly asked, turning to the slender Advisor beside his throne as the sound of the chamber doors closing echoed through the large room.
“What do you believe, my sire?” Cullo asked, bending down to get an ear closer to his Tiso.
“You're not wrong, The Wolf does seem to have some knowledge of old soldier tactics. Hein can be useful against that, and Captain Luko is an Arkin do or die. Either Hein dies on this mission, or they both end the traitors, before those documents spread.” The Tiso said rubbing his eyebrows in thought.
“If I may suggest, sir?” Cullo said, turning towards the Tiso. “I believe we must speed up our timeline, hire someone to make sure the Severosian Summit goes our way.”
“Yes, we don’t have time to lose now. Get Hushtone scouring the docks for potential sailors and negotiators.” The Tiso answered.
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“This seems terribly bad, Mr.Cullo!” Advisor Hushtone said quivering as he heard the animalistic wails and howls coming out from the prison tower down to the courtyard below.
“It is simple insurance.” The lean advisor said as he towered over the plump little man. “If Hein and Luko’s search party fails, which they surely will. We have the bloodlust of this animal on our side.”
“How can we be certain it will be on our side?” Hushtone asked worriedly.
“Quiet now. It’s here.” Cullo commanded. As the wails grew closer the birds atop the Kantara scattered afraid of whatever predator approached. Except an odd black bird that watched with Icy blue eyes. Hushtone noticed the odd bird, he was shaking too much to speak by now, and simply shot his gaze to the ground before moving closer behind the lanky Cullo. The tower doors swung open with two guards holding them out. Four other guards yanked at long chains as they dragged a raggedy man out into the sunny courtyard before the two advisors.
The man fell to the ground, adding more dirt to his grimy and tattered prison garb. His hair was long and matted and his body looked miraculously well behind all the cuts and lashes along it. He growled and yelped behind his muzzle before looking up from the ground toward the two advisors.
Hushtone yelped in fear, before the stoic Cullo spoke up. “You are the one they call Shi’vor?” His answer was more growls and tries at a bite. “Release his muzzle or we won’t get very far, will we?” Cullo said annoyedly peering between the guards holding the prisoners' chains. The guards called over one of the others who was holding the door to release the muzzle. After a couple of failed tries and shaking the muzzle fell onto the floor in front of the deranged inmate.
“I ask again, you are the one called Shi’vor, are you not?”
“The black, the black abyss calls such names!” The manic man cried. “The chained ones, they spoke the name in unison, only the apostates have uttered such names!”
The tall advisor stared down at the raving man. Hushtone could see fear grow in the ragged man’s eyes. They grew wide before he began to shake his head and cry out in terror as he kicked the ground backing away from the Advisor. “No, no, no more I did the bidding of the chained, I brought many to the endless black! Please!”
Cullo pulled from his pocket a frosted vial. The guards turned to each other in confusion. “Sir, that’s not the prisoner’s, is it?”
“The Revelator has come…. I see…” The man said. His eyes flipped to each side of Cullo, as if conversing to the air around him. “Three more for the abyss. The deer, the bear and the owl. Three more before I rest.” The prisoner said calmly. Cullo walked closer as the guards cried out to back away from the dangerous man. Cullo handed the vial to him and stepped back.
The deranged man’s chains fell to the grass as the prison guards began to run from the scene to the safety of the tower itself. The deranged prisoner Cullo called Shi’vor opened the small frosted blue vial and let the liquid turn to fumes. Entering his body through his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. He cried out in solemn joy as a dark cloud of smoke moved around his body before concealing the man inside entirely.
The cloud of smoke rapidly darted away across the city and out the walls. The prisoner was nowhere gone.
“He escaped!” Hushtone cried out with unexpected fury towards Cullo.
“No, he made a deal.”
Nard Marx
The dock area of Huxwell was always a lively place. Loud music, the thuds of hammers and scraped of saws, the giggling of street harlots and the grunts of their men hidden in an alley way. This was no place for a frumpy round, advisor to be, yet this is where Advisor Hushtone found himself.
Hushtone was worn down from the long day by now. It was six in the afternoon, and he had dealt with Cullo’s berating, a terrifying and deranged Rel and now hunting down a qualified sailor in the docks. Hushtone was ready to burst. That of course is when someone else bursts on him instead.
Next to the small man, saloon doors burst open and with it a flow of ale from the mouth of a drunken, laughing man. The particles of hops and yeast flung onto Hushtone’s thick mustache and clean suit.
“Sir, please get ahold of yourself, we are looking for suitable work, not a bar fight!” Another man said carrying the drunk around his shoulders.
“What have I always said, Goborn? Everything falls into place, you just role with it all!” The blonde drunk mumbled.
“Excuse you, sir! You ill-bred imbecile, you blasted your beverage all over me!” Hushtone said trying his best to verbally assault the drunken man.
“Look at the little, tiny, angry man, Goborn! It’s adorable!” The man laughed to himself waving his bottle in front of Hushtone.
“Sir, please! That’s Advisor Hushtone!”
“I am your captain! You hush your tone!”
“As in the Tiso’s Advisor you idiot!” The one known as Goborn said before turning to the wet, round man. “Sir, I apologize immensely for my captain's attitude. He is a very dull man; I assure you he doesn’t mean any offense.”
“This man is a captain?” An idea began to stew in the Advisor’s head.
“Oddly enough, yes.”
“And he has a ship?”
“The best ship, lad! The Weeping Jade! Fastest ship from here to Salkay!” The drunk exclaimed.
“It’s a decent ship, decent enough crew, and I am their Quartermaster, Eli Goborn. I worked under you for some time in Human Resources for the Kantara.”
“Ah! Before I was an advisor! The old days, why did you leave?”
“He was the reason.” Goborn nodded to the drunk falling asleep on his shoulder. “I was always behind a desk, wanted something new. He promised adventure and thrills, so I became an Arkin Privateer Regulation Specialist and he put me as Quartermaster as well.”
“Did he provide those thrills?”
“In his own way, yes. Not the adventures I was expecting, but adventures all the same.”
“How about another adventure, my boy?” Hushtone said giddily.
“Sir?” Goborn grew somewhat weary at the premise.
“I need a captain who is not afraid of a little adventure, and someone who I can trust to keep the Arkin Republic’s interests at heart. What do you say?”
“Where too?”
“Severos!”
“Absolutely not- “
“Absolutely!” The captain yelled out in a slur. “Nard Marx at your service your worship, the Weeping Jade will set our sails as soon as you tell us where to go.”
“Severos sir.” Goborn answered with his eyes rolling.
“Ah…Well, why not sounds like a fun trip. Cold beaches, burly men trying to kill us. Sounds like a dream.”
“I’ll have the mission information to your ship by morning.” The small plump man said as he quickly rushed away.
“What did I tell you Goborn? Everything falls into place!”