It had been a little over a month since Dominick had decided to leave The Syndicate and he didn’t regret it. Other than the two chumps the Syndicate sent to try and get rid of him, who failed horribly, he’d been living the high life. It had taken a lot of planning and preparation , but this was something that he’d had in the works for years now. Skimming a little off the top for each job he’d done, planning out the work details for the treasury, all of these things were just pieces in the puzzle of his grand plan. The plan to live a life of luxury. No more dues would need to be paid to the Syndicate. No more shitty jobs. No more living job to job, just to scrape by.
The pay of a Syndicate member was directly proportional to the amount of work they did. The fees they needed to pay were also directly proportional, it was a percentage tax on the income of the jobs they had taken and completed. All of it felt like a scam to Dominick. How could he get rich if he was always being taxed on a percentage of the money he made? And for what, just for being a member? That was bullshit that Dominick couldn’t put up with anymore. He had felt this way for years, he managed to finally build up enough trust to get a position working inside the Syndicate treasury.
Giving him this job was the Syndicate’s first mistake, because it was at this point that Dominick had begun planning. Before this he’d worked out in the field, doing grunt work. Collecting debts, roughing people up, settling border disputes, and dealing with other minor underground factions that decided to try and poke their nose on Syndicate turf. The Syndicate was probably the largest underground faction that operated on this continent, trying to go up against them was dumb. That was exactly the issue Dominick had with these small fries, they were dumb, but he wasn’t.
The Syndicate audited their treasuries every month, everything was on paper, and every coin needed to be accounted for. It was in this gap between audits that Dominick decided to make his move. If everything would’ve gone according to plan, he’d have an entire month to disappear with his riches, and disappear. Things didn’t go according to plan though, on the night of his magnificent heist, one of his brothers had decided to show up during Dominick’s treasury shift to check up on him, catching him in the act. Dominick moved decisively, savagely attacking his fellow brother, and making his getaway. It was only a week later after the man managed to recover that he was able to tell the higher ups what had happened. Seeing as how things didn’t go as expected, Dominick had to make some adjustments.
Once he realized his buffer time to get out of town had diminished significantly, he opted into plan B. Take the spoils, and sell any information he had to the city guard. He WAS a criminal, but he was a criminal with insider information on The Syndicate. He’d proven his worth by pointing in the direction of a few of his fellow brothers and sisters, promptly leading to their arrests. He was being granted a pardon for his past crimes, so long as he stayed useful, so he kept his cards close to his chest.
The first attempt on his life had been made only ten days after his escape. By that point, he’d already made contact with the guards and had begun talking. He was making his way home after buying some goods in the market. He made sure to go to stores that were a good distance away from the main merchant district in the city because he knew that area was crawling with Syndicate members. He was on his way back home when he’d found himself cornered in one of the many alleyways that ran through Benetia.
“Dominick Black, your treachery has been recognized by the Syndicate. I’m sure you know why I’m here.” The hooded man said from the other side of the alley.
“I’m sure I can take a pretty good guess.” Dominick replied with a slight grin on his face.
“It was a mistake for you to stay in the city, you should’ve left while you had the chance.”
“Blah, blah, blah. You’re not very good at your job are you?” Dominick said as he rolled his eyes, the other man had an obvious hint of annoyance in his eyes.
The man drew his dagger and charged at Dominick. They exchanged a flurry of blows, but to be honest, the would-be assassin was way out of his league when trying to confront Dominick. Slowly but surely, each exchange demonstrated the difference in their abilities. The assailant was receiving more damage than he was giving and he knew it, cuts were riddling his body. Dominick had received some damage as well, but a lot of it was superficial wounds. Their fateful meeting ended with Dominick’s dagger slashing across the assassin’s throat. Blood began pouring from the wound, turning the gaps in the cobblestone into crimson rivers.
The second incident occurred in the temporary home that was given to him by the city. The bastard had managed to get past the light security detail that was assigned to him, and caught Dominick in a very compromising situation, the middle of dinner. He was halfway to shoving a fork full of meat in his mouth when the hooded figure appeared.
“Dominick Black..”
“Let’s just get this over with.” He replied and a fight ensued. Seeing as how Dominick was at a stark disadvantage due to only having a fork on hand versus the man’s dagger, he opted for plan B. Make as much noise as possible while trying to survive. He’d taken some significant damage from his foe, they were clearly better than the first guy they’d sent for him. He didn’t know if he should feel complimented or worried at his growingly deadly situation with The Syndicate. The security detail had managed to make it just in time before he could suffer any fatal damage. He’d received a deep gash across his chest, but that wasn’t anything that a good night’s rest couldn’t fix.
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The guards stormed his home and swiftly struck the assassin down. Their body turned into a pincushion filled with swords and spears. The response was swift and deadly. Dominick looked down at the dead man and simply smiled.
“Another one bites the dust,” He said as he elbowed one of the guards in the ribs “Right, am I right guys?”
“Hmph..” the guard grunted out.
That was how the most recent attempt on his life had gone. It certainly wouldn’t be the last, and he knew it. Fortunately for Dominick, Chief Knight Yllana had also realized that the Syndicate would do anything to tie up loose ends. He was given a larger security detail and also moved into the upper class area of the city. Security in this area was generally stricter compared to the rest of the city due to the fact that all the nobles, city officials, and uber wealthy resided in this part of the city. Someone like Dominick would typically never be able to afford living in a place like this, and frankly…the lifestyle suited him.
He’d come from nothing, but now found himself residing in a three-story home in the wealthiest part of the city. He was receiving the same treatment that would be given to foreign ambassadors AND he had around a thousand gold pieces courtesy of The Syndicate. Dominick wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was a lustful man. He wanted money, women, power, and status…all he had to do was keep giving information to the Chief Knight to keep his new and improved life.
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“Can you point me in the direction of Dominick Black?” Asher asked candidly to the familiar burly bartender.
“Whatcha lookin’ for that rat for?” Bartholomew said with a heavy emphasis on the word ‘rat’.
“I think you know why,” Asher said, flashing the man an innocent smile and batting his eyelashes.
“Gross, stick to the old soul in a kid’s body routine kid. Cute doesn’t really suit you.”
“Well that’s a bit harsh.” Asher grumbled.
“Sometimes the truth hurts kid, but really they’re sending you?” Bartholomew said, not trying to hide his disbelief.
“Seems that way, so can you help me out?”
“Yeah, everyone knows where he is. Not like he’s really trying to hide or anything. The guy thinks the city is gonna protect him forever or something.”
“Got any juice?” Asher asked the man abruptly. Bartholomew looked at the kid and rubbed his temples before letting out a light chuckle. He proceeded to fill a glass up with some apple juice and slid it over to Asher.
“Anyways, like I was saying. The guy isn’t hiding, but security around him is tight, which makes things more difficult than they need to be.”
“Yeah, I’d heard two previous attempts ended up in failure, which I’m trying to avoid.”
“Well you came to the right spot, taverns are always good spots to get info. Lot of loose tongues show up once enough alcohol gets introduced.”
Asher scooted up in his barstool while Bartholomew talked. The sight of the large man talking to a young boy in such a formal way was a sight that the other patrons in the building found amusing. A lot of eyes were on the two while they spoke until their curiosity was shooed away with a simple handwave from Bartholomew basically saying ‘Go back to your business.’
“He’s in the nice part of town. Full of rich people, full of security. The guy’s been practically living like a king, having parties, women going in and out of his place seemingly nonstop.” Bartholomew grabbed a piece of paper from under the counter and a quill. He drew a few circles on the paper.
“This is where we are roughly,” he then drew a line to the other circle with a few other landmarks scribbled onto the paper. “This is about where he is, last I heard. Three story house, you have his description yeah?”
“Yeah they gave me the general info about him. Male, in his twenties, brown hair, green eyes.”
“Well that describes most people. Here’s some helpful info, the guy’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on his face most of the time and has a tattoo on his left hand of a serpent. Pretty fitting tattoo since the guy’s a snake.” Bartholomew let out his signature hearty laugh, his belly slightly bouncing. Asher let out a groan. “A pun, really?” he thought to himself.
“Stick to the tough bartender routine, comedy isn’t in your cards.”
“Damn kid, harsh.”
“Sometimes the truth hurts. Anyways, thanks for the info, it won’t go to waste.”
“You’re welcome. Anything to get that thorn out of our side.”
Asher finished up the rest of his juice and looked up at the man. “How much?”
“You’re the only one here who drinks juice, let’s just say it’s on the house. Good luck kid.”
“Thanks for the help!” Asher said as he trotted out the door. He found himself back in the hustle and bustle of the city. Once again, the temptation of the food stalls called out to him. He’d tried out more than a few last time he was out here, but there was still much more to explore when it came to the various cuisines the city offered. His inner foodie would have to wait though, right now he had a job to do, and that job was collecting some intel.
Luckily, Asher had already scouted out various places in the city and with the help of Bartholomew’s crudely drawn map, it narrowed his search area considerably. Master Revenant had presented Asher with a variety of weapons to choose from, in the end he settled on a dagger and shortbow. He’d walked out of The Underpass with the weapons and made sure he was alone before storing them in his inventory. He didn’t know how common an ability like this was, so he just decided to keep it under wraps for now.
He killed time walking around the city until the sun went down. Under the cover of darkness, sneaking past guards took little to no effort. Shadow-Step was basically a cheat in the night time, it essentially allowed him to teleport anywhere he wanted to. He found himself sitting on top of a roof next door to a three story house. “This seems to be the place..” Asher thought to himself.
He looked down to see a man exiting the house with each of his arms wrapped around a woman, smiling and laughing. The two women giggled as the man cracked jokes and bragged about how much money he had. Asher focused his eyes and sure enough, a tattoo could be seen on the man’s left hand. As he continued watching the area, he saw that the man had a group of people following him and a group of people in front of him. The two groups seemed to be staying a strategic distance from the man, far enough to not look like an entourage, but close enough to immediately jump into action if they needed to.
“They must be the guards Bartholomew mentioned.” Asher thought to himself.
Dominick and the two women made their way towards what appeared to be a tavern. The leading group stayed outside, while the rear group of guards followed the laughing trio inside.
“Ten guards that seem to be pretty good at security detail,” Asher mumbled to himself “Dominick Black, what to do with you?” A small smile spread across Asher’s face as he laid down looking up at the stars, planning out his mission.