Barnaby's Brothel/Casino

These smokes tasted awful, Barnaby thought as he puffed on a cigarette from earth. They had a off taste to them that he couldn't quite point out. Not like his cigars back in his old brothel. Thickly wrapped stogies that were plump with rich tobacco imported and "lost" at the city docks.

These in comparison were thin and brittle with a taste and smell that made him sick. He smothered the flimsy substitute between his thick dwarven fingers. The spark of flame barely registering against the dwarf's thick skin. He flicked away the crumbled mess and stared down at an array of supplies that sat before him on his desk.

His men had been busy, he thought as he picked up and inspected various packs of bicycle cards and dice they acquired from either clients or from some of the shops that seemed to sell little odds and ends. The cards were played in dozens of ways, most of them familiar to the dwarf in all but name. The dice likewise were little things made out of a strange cheap substance yet still functioned similar to the knucklebones they used.

The similarities were striking, Barnaby thought as he thumbed through the deck of cards. Different worlds, yet so many things were the same. Games, vices, even language was mostly similar. All this was fascinating. But Barnaby didn't get to where he was by philosophizing. He got it by taking what he could where he could. The fact that so much was the same here than in their world would just make it easier for him to slip into a role he had filled for many years already.

Below him he could hear his business running smoothly, or roughly depending on how much was paid. He opened a drawer on his desk and shuffled through the assortment of currency he had acquired already. From the familiar metal coinage of Daele and beyond to some newer metallic coins from this world mixed in with a strange paper money that this world seemed to use.

It took some work for him and his men to get a feel for value and exchange rates. But eventually they got a hang of it. Those with currency from their world paid more, those with money from this world paid less. The reason was that their own currency would be next to useless save for the inherent value of the solid metal within the coins themselves.

So switching his business from the metal coinage of Daele to the paper currency of this world was first on his list. The coins he could have melted down into something of better value or just outright sell them for this worlds currency. Though he was under no illusions that if he did than he would be cheated out of the actual value in favor of a pittance.

But criminals don't thrive by being conservative, Barnaby thought as his mind lingered to his cousins at the railyard. They'll stick with their gold coins like dragons. But he'll adapt and thrive just as he always had.

He closed the drawer and latched it as his two henchmen entered. Behind them entered other heads of the Thieves Guild.

A scarred elvish man stalked into the barrenly finished room. Despite "Lord" Myrle's calm and noble appearance he was actually the head of the most notorious gangs back in Daele who had a proficiency for violence, assassination, and other thuggery.

Following was a human by the name of Derrik that fidgeted and who's eyes darted every-which-way. A habit many developed when dealing with bootleg hooch and potions as well as counterfeit spells. One wrong move and your whole operation went up in multicolored flames or worse, and you with it.

The next was a trio of halflings that went by the Hombottle Brothers that ran the various cutpurse and pickpocket gangs. As far as Barnaby knew they weren't related, but to halflings that was a rare thing as it seemed all halflings were related even at least distantly.

Then came the remnants of various independent gangs and syndicates that managed to slip through with them before the orcs broke through. Though to call them independent wouldn't be quite right. All criminals operated under the umbrella organization of the guild. It was just a matter of how much you kicked up and to who was what separated the "independents" from the "official" members.

Barnaby leaned back in his chair as the others took their own seats. None of which compared to the comfort of his parlor back home, but he had to make do until he could rebuild.

"Good mornin' everyone! I would call this meetin' ta order but I'm noticein' tha' we're missin' one. Where's Flynn?"

The elf gestured with a flick of his wrist.

"Outside your window and down the street a ways."

Barnaby rolled back to the window and parted the blinds a crack and searched along the road outside. A couple blocks down he spotted Flynn hanging from a light post with a simple sign hung around his neck that read ASSAULT in bold words.

"So I take it he won't be joinin' us?" Barnaby asked rhetorically as he slid back to his desk.

"No matter, just somethin' else ta add on today's meetin'. First thin's fir-"

"I motion to acquire what's left of his operations." The elf declared.

Barnaby rolled his eyes.

"All in favor o' Lord Myrle assumin' control o' Flynn's operations?"

Several hands went up with little protest.

"All opposed?"

Several hands went down at various speeds depending on their standing to the elvish "lord" who smiled a knowing smile.

"Motion confirmed. Now ta other mat-"

"I WONT GO BACK UP THE MOUNTAIN!" Derrik declared suddenly as his eyes darted around so fast they almost looked white.

Barnaby sighed. This was going to be one of those meetings isn't it, he thought as he turned to the human.

"You know tha' those humans 'ave tha best hooch around, and since we don't have tha facilities we can't yet make it ourselves, tha' means YOU need ta go up and ge-"

"NO! Wontgobackwontgobackwontgobackthedarknesswatchesyouandshelurksinyourmind-" The human chattered at an insane pace that no-one could catch most of what he was saying.

Yup, one of those meetings, Barnaby thought as he picked up a cane that leaned on his desk. He didn't care for weapons, he preferred his fists. But some were too fragile for such a heavy-handed message and needed something a little more "subtle".

The dwarf walked over to Derrik who acted like he wasn't in a room full of ruthless criminals and thugs.

"Derrik?"

Derrik never once looked at Barnaby. Even as he poked a meaty finger did the man look at anywhere but him.

"So it's gonna be tha' way."

Barnaby brought the knobbed top of the cane down on Derrik's right knee. The bone shattered with a resounding crack that was followed by the piercing yell of Derrik as he fell from his chair to the floor as he nursed his knee. Barnaby walked over and held his chin up with the top of his cane.

"Now you 'ave a choice Derrik. Which are you more afraid o'? Tha mountain? Or me?"

Derrik stared into Barnaby's cruel eyes for a long moment and seemed like the dwarf wouldn't need to take it any further. But then the twitchy human's gaze flicked away for barely a fraction of a second. The dwarf sighed.

"Wha' a pity."

Then he brought the cane down, and down, and down. He didn't stop as Derrik pleaded and mumbled and begged. In this world there was no room for things like mercy or weakness. Derrik showed weakness and if Barnaby wasn't the one to end it then someone else would. This way, it sent a message to everyone there. Barnaby was the one to be feared.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Barnaby panted as he looked down at what was left of Derrik. He turned around as one of his servants, some poor slob that lost too much at knucklebones, dragged away the corpse to be dumped into the goblin infested alleys to be disposed of. He gestured with the still bloody cane at one of the random gang leaders.

"Are you scared o' a mountain?" The young tough hastily shook his head.

"Good. You're in charge o' Derrik's operations now. All in favor?" Several hands went up.

"All opposed?"

Several hands went down. Though the "lord" was a little slower in doing so. It was no secret he wanted more power in the underworld. But they all knew that Barnaby's word carried weight. Not only that, but for all his muscle and assassins, they were all glorified goons compared to Barnaby and his men.

The young tough had pride and fear on his face along with hefty dose of hunger. Good, Barnaby thought. That hunger will either make sure he keeps his head on straight long enough to make a tidy profit, or it won't be long before they find a new "Derrik".

Sure Barnaby could assume control. But it was a fool that stuck his finger in everyone's pie. Just meant more mouths to bite back when the hammer comes down, Barnaby thought. Besides, gambling and sex was the "safer" of crime. Who are people going to take serious issue with? Losing a game of cards and having a fling with a whore? Or getting beaten and robbed?

So let these others bicker and fight for control, Barnaby thought as he wiped the blood and bits of bone off his face and coat. While they're replaced and snuffed out, he'll still be here. Getting rich and worming his way into the places where it matters.

"Now tha's sorted. How are you all settlin' in?" Barnaby asked cheerily.

The elf sniffed indignantly.

"Poor. This is some no-name town with little going for it even BEFORE we arrived from what my sources were able to gather."

"We've 'ad lil luck on our end too." One of the "brothers" stated.

"So why not try yer luck elsewhere?" Barnaby asked.

"Bah! You would like that wouldn't you?! Who knows what waits outside of this town! And besides, if that human was correct the town will be receiving aid from outside."

"It already did. We managed ta pinch some supplies from those large metal containers while tha guards were distracted." One of the other "brothers" stated.

The "lord" huffed.

"That can't be all of it! The technology in this place says as much! Where does all this water come from?! Where is the source of the power that illuminates the town?!"

"Magic?" The last "brother" asked.

"Then you're a fool!" The elf barked.

The three halflings started to bicker and shout at the elf who simply opted to sneer and ignore their bluster. Barnaby would have none of it in his office though and slammed a meaty hand upon his desk to silence them.

"Enough!"

The bickering from the halflings dulled to seething glares instead, which the elf continued to ignore.

"Well while we wait fer this possible windfall, wha' is on tha agenda?"

"We've heard of a halfling colony southwest of here. We've also seen humans coming and going from it as well with construction supplies. So they must still have some coin stashed away that we could easily exploit from and even force them into servitude or even slavery."

"'Nd we've been eyeballin' tha' fancy manor ta tha souf o' 'ere." One of the halflings said.

"Tha place where tha army o' goblins are?" Barnaby asked with a skeptical eye.

"Aye! Tha's tha one! A small enough band could get in 'nd swipe a good haul o' swag befer their caught!"

Those were really the only two things worth noting, Barnaby thought as he took a sip from his flask filled with warm dwarven ale. Possibly the last until his cousins could begin brewing again. He was interested in the rivalry the local bumpkins and his cousins would have over who's hooch is stronger!

The rest of the gangs and would-be syndicates spouted out ideas and their own goals and objectives. Most of it was little more than claim a portion of the territory of town and contribute to general lawlessness. Thieving, robbery, burglary. Just being general nuisances.

But that was good for those of them that were serious criminals. Let the townsfolk worry about the thugs and hoodlums that cause obvious mischief while Barnaby and his cohorts sneak by.

After an hour or so of going over finer details to ensure no-one stepped on one another's toes, or at least not with obvious intent, the meeting of crime lords and toughs ended and left Barnaby's brothel/casino. The dwarf rolled back on his chair as he stared out the window at the those barely trying to hide the fact that this was a meeting place. Then his eye catching those with a bit more sense to try and hide it. Then once more at the hanging body of Flynn.

"They're goin' ta be a problem aren't they?" Barnaby asked his two men.

"Who?"

"Those strange goblins. They've already proved they're not ta be messed with."

"Oh they ain't so bad, Boss." One of his men stated which earned him a cocked brow from Barnaby.

"Oh?"

"Well... the regular goblins that is." He said nervously as the drying blood of Derrik lingered still.

"So, how do you two think we should handle them?" Barnaby asked as he spotted the strange "Red Caps" as he's heard them called.

"Uhm... buy them?"

"With wha'? Look at their uniforms, they aren't strapped fer coin and are obviously not starvin'."

"What about the goblins? The regular ones, Boss?"

Barnaby chuckled.

"They'll sooner stab us with how broke in they are."

No, Barnaby thought. If he wanted the actual law around here on his side, he needed to get at it's source. He smiled as a bit of recent information might be key to getting within his good grace.

"Watch tha place boys. I'm goin' out!" Barnaby cheered as he straightened his clothes in a mirror before sauntering out of his office. He climbed down the steps, the sounds of his brothel working overtime just through the various doors he passed by. As well as the muscle that kept an ear out for anything that sounded like something they didn't pay for.

Which would happen from time to time. Someone gets a little too handsy than what was agreed to or, correctly, states their time isn't up and demands to keep going. But it didn't matter, as his men were there to "correct" them.

As he passed by the floors that stunk of sex, he entered the floors that reeked of greed and desperation as the sounds of beds rocking and screams of pleasure was replaced with curses and yells of despair as thy lost what little they had when they entered and gambled away.

Some poor souls that would take a chance to increase their fortunes by throwing bones. They lost naturally, not always as they still had to have the illusion that they could win, but more often than not. His men stood and watched these games like hawks. Ready to dart in and either cripple a cheat if they were bad at it, or to hold them in a separate room long enough for Barnaby to decide if they were worth recruiting.

With the wealth of the town low, as was the people of Daele, gambling wasn't very active as his brothel upstairs was. But there were always those that wanted to scratch that itch and Barnaby was more than happy to provide!

He passed his doormen as he left the darkly lit building for the gloomy sky of the town. It was like a eternal dreariness hovered over the town, Barnaby thought as he sauntered down the road unworried. Which made "recruiting" from the locals a loss. None had that type of energy or fire that made sleeping with them all that enjoyable for more than a few copper. They were also stingy with what money they had.

Oh sure he would get someone with Little Town Blues that wanted something a little more exciting, but they were few and far between. Most of his clients as well as staff and product were from Daele or elsewhere visiting before the siege stranded them.

Barnaby walked down a nice road and passed a non-descript van on his way to the manor. He got the impression he was being watched. Which he more than likely was. Being the head of a successful business, illicit or otherwise, casted many a eye on you.

Barnaby passed the front gate that was guarded by a couple of those Red Caps that glowered and glared at him. Whether it was because they knew who he was or because of the deep seeded hatred between dwarves and greenskins that lingered within them Barnaby couldn't guess.

He walked up to the door that was also guarded by a couple of the Red Caps and cleared his throat as he suppressed his Dwarven accent for something a little more refined. Some higher class humans and especially elves don't much care for the Dwarven accent as they find it rough and grating.

"I'm here to see the master of the estate."

The Red Caps just glared at him. He moved to open the door but stopped when a growl emitted from the guards. He moved his hand up to the ornate doorknocker instead. He knocked the rather heavy knocker when it was clear that was the right thing to do.

He stood and waited, noticing a couple of strange leafy goblins that fought over a pair of trimmers like it was worth more than life itself. He didn't get to see the end of their fight though before the door was opened, to reveal another goblins. This one had more refined features and stood with a manner that suggested nobility.

"Are you the master of this estate?"

The goblin sniffed and sneered at Barnaby.

"No. He is currently busy at the moment and is not seeing anyone."

"Well, I think he would very much like to see me." Barnaby stated with a practiced smile.

"I doubt that." The goblin sneered with disgust and made to slam the door.

"Wait! I have information about a possible robbery that might concern him!" Barnaby stated.

The Noble Goblin cracked open the door to glare once more at Barnaby.

"Whatever you have to say you can say it to me."

"I'd rather give it to the master of the estate, just so I can make sure he receives this important information."

The goblin made to retort at the obvious insult when he quickly shuffled out of the way as the door was opened wide and Barnaby had to hurry to the side to keep from being trampled by the six or so trolls that lumbered by! No, not trolls, Barnaby noted as he watched them. Some weird goblin-troll hybrid.

At the head of the weird trolls was a Red Cap that barked orders and cracked a club against their protruding guts, which didn't seem to actually harm them but was more to keep their attention on him so they didn't wander off.

"Good luck and go get 'em boys!" Came the voice of Morty as he waved off the trogs with the sisters forming a protective barrier between them.

Morty turned to go back inside when he saw Barnaby.

"Who're you?"

"This is nobod-"

"Barnaby!" The dwarf declared before the Noble Goblin could sweep him under the rug.

"And what do you want Barnaby?" Morty asked skeptically as the ogres moved to potentially intercept a possible attack.

Goblins, ogres, and trolls. Yeah, that was a big threat he wanted to be friends with, Barnaby thought as he plastered on a practiced smile.

"I've come in the hopes of friendship and goodwill!"

"Don't care, I'm dealing with enough parasites and leeches to deal with more." Morty stated dismissively as he turned to leave with the Noble Goblin smiling as he went to slam the door.

"I have information about someone who's going to try and rob you!"

Morty stopped the door before it could close.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific. I'm sure alot of people around here would like to rob me."

Barnaby cleared his throat.

"In a few days, a group of halflings are going to try and break into your estate.

"And I should be concerned why?" Morty asked as he gestured to the sisters and the goblins.

"Because halflings make excellent thieves and rogues. Hard to see and hard to hear if they wanted to, little hands and fingers makes taking things that don't belong to them a simple matter." Barnaby described.

"Hmm, and what will this information cost me?" Morty asked.

"Don't suppose tha goodwill and friendship line will work as well as it did tha first time right?" Barnaby asked as he dropped back into his dwarven accent.

"Nope."

"Then consider it a business transaction. I give you information on tha... less than legal sorts tha' would seek ta harm you, financially or otherwise."

"And in exchange?"

"You keep yer goblins here off me and mah men so we can conduct our business undisturbed."

"Tell me something. What's stopping me from just killing you, an-all-but-admitted-criminal?"

"I don't know how it works here in yer world. But in mine, it pays ta have friends in low places."

"Pays how?"

"Women, men, smuggled goods. You name it and I know people that can get it."

"Friend of a friend?"

"That's right! We both profit when we're all friends!" Barnaby cheered as he stuck out his rough dwarven hand for Morty to shake. While he didn't let it show he really didn't have much to offer Morty other than information at the moment. But if he could establish a good relationship with him then it could buy him time to grow and either be able to offer him more or get powerful enough to not need Morty.

While Morty would normally dismiss him without a second thought. First the bugbears, then the trolls and ettin. He kept getting surprised by hostile people and creatures and he was getting sick of it! He could only imagine how the night the union workers came could've gone if he wasn't prepared for them ahead of time.

Besides, wouldn't be the first time his family did business with criminals, so why stop now, Morty thought as he shook Barnaby's offered hand.

"So, about these halfling burglars?"