Chapter 83 - Working Overtime
"Alright. I've been in this dump for two fecking hours, sipping this swill... so you'd better tell me what the feck is going on, or you two are gonna start losing more limbs."
Gerald allows a heavy sigh to escape, then he leans over the stained and scarred pub table to relate their clandestine activities. "Okay. Carson and I were in here last night, drinkin' an' playing some cards, when he overheard some men talking about raiding your place and kidnapping some of your girls."
Zen's features immediately go slack, which was typically a precurser to violence on a city-wide scale. "And you're just telling me now."
The Labrodor-kin issues a snort of derision while spinning his mug of horrible ale around the surface of the table. "Their plans weren't solidified. No dates or times. They couldn't even decide on how many others to bring with them."
"How many were talkin'?"
"Four. But they threw around another dozen names."
"So sixteen degenerates. Or more." The small Scout slowly rotates her furry ears in an effort to pick up on any whispered chatter within the rowdy drinking-establishment, but it all seemed to be the typical bullshite. "You couldn't figure out who they were?"
"Nope. We were at this table, and they were off in that corner." Carson briefly flicks a finger in the direction of a booth that held a good measure of privacy, and was currently vacant, though held a dozen empty steins. "Should be about the hour we overheard 'em, so if they're regulars, then they'll show up shortly."
"Hmph. You shoulda just slaughtered 'em yesterday."
"What. And deny you the satisfaction?" The one-eyed human flashes a wicked grin towards his sister. "Besides, if we'd ended them last night, then you'd have killed us for ruining your fun."
"Tch. Stupid, flawless logic. You find a bag of smarts during your five years of wandering?"
"Nah. Just bought 'em from the Merchant Guild. You'd be surprised how cheap they are."
"Then buy more. An' then look for things that'll make you less ugly."
"Come on."
Zen snickers at the exhasperated complaint, then settles down in her chair to appear much more buzzed than she could ever get drinking water-down ale. "A'right. Yous two jus' natter on 'bout useless crap. As usual."
After fixing a languid, vapid stare towards her mug of swill, the short Cat-woman then begins the arduous task of attempting to listen-in on every single conversation inside of the bar.
With perhaps forty patrons spread among two-dozen tables and booths, it's a little annoying to try and piece together the various speakers and snippits of conversation, but within only ten minutes she's built a nice little guide-map inside of her head.
All but three individuals seemed to be regulars of this run-down pub, judging by their comments about the drinks, decor, and what used to be where.
Sixteen people were professional Dungeoneers. Nine in one group, and seven in the other. The smaller party was discussing what they'd all do with the monies they'd just received, while the larger was already past that point, and were now talking about their next dive.
Five men at the bar were simply complaining about their daily lives. Their jobs, their lovers or spouses. Lamenting how life was compared to the prospects they had when they were young.
The bartender was muttering curses under his breath every time an order came in. Apparently, he hated working here. Not surprising, considering the diseases he might pick up. Maybe he should devote more time to cleaning instead of bitching.
There were only four women. Two were Adventurers in the diving-groups, one was a server with a high-pitched voice, and the final one was an independent contractor, a prostitute, attempting to garner business despite the fact that she was ugly, severely over-weight, and charging slightly more than what you'd pay at one of the brothels.
Of course, in those places, they had certian standards to drive out the undesirable customers. Violent demeanors, severe drunkeness, and utter lack of regard for hygene typically got you thrown out. So good on this lady for lowering the bar while increasing the price...
Thirty minutes after she'd started, Zen finally hears the front door open to admit new customers, and a quick glance in that direction shows six men, all shifty-eyed, surly, uglier than her brother, and just generally mean-lookin'.
As she looks back to her un-touched ale, the small Scout easily tunes out all the other banter, save for high-pitched waitresses and sudden, loud exclaimations, and simply uses her ears to track the progress of the ruffians towards the booth in the corner.
"Tch. Filthly as always."
"Feckin' bitch should learn t' clean up."
"Oi. Mindy."
"Just a minute, Ferenze!"
"Hmph. C'mon. Get yer arses in there. An' don't be orderin' tha' fecking girly shite like las' time."
"Screw you. I had a cold."
"Hey, all! What kin' ah I get yuhs?"
"Usual."
"Yeah."
"Jus' an ale that doesn't taste like donkey piss."
"Good luck wit' that. Usual."
"Somethin' from a bottle. Whiskey."
"Oh. Yeah, gimme some whiskey, too."
"Alright! Back in a jiff!"
"Oi. Clear this shite off."
"Oh! Okay. Gimme a sec. Been busy in here t'night."
"Looks like."
"Typical crowd, huh."
"Who're they?"
"Saw 'em yesterday. Playin' cards wit' Henderson and Boll."
"Hmph. Feckin' cheaters. Bet they lost their pants."
"That mutt did, yah. Kept raisin' even when he had nothin'. Boll couldn' believe his luck. Prob'ly wa'n't even cheatin' in th' end."
"Okay! Four ales, one tha' doesn't taste like donkey-piss, an' two whiskey. Run ya a tab?"
"Yah. Thanks, Mindy."
"No problem! Jus' hollar when yuh need more!"
"Feck she's cute."
"Dumb as a pile o' bricks, though."
"Nah, jus' slow."
"Slow can still feck."
"Heh. Damned right."
"Reminds me of the last servin'-girl. Remember that one? With the big mole on 'er face?"
"Yah. Bit ugly, but smokin' body on 'er."
"Johnny said 'e fecked 'er once."
"I did not. I said I'd like t' feck her once."
"Whatever... a'right, look. We still gonna hit that new hotel?"
"Huh? Waddya mean hit it?"
"We was talkin' bout it las' night. Us four."
"Like, what. Bust in an' steal th' cash?"
"That an' take some a th' girls, yah."
"Oh. They's all pretty young, ain't they?"
"Word is they're all professionals. So they's done lots 'f feckin'."
"Huh? Ain't they jus'..."
"Jus' what."
"Nah. I heard they's was all former slaves... guess that's what they meant."
"Prob'ly."
"Anyone been in there?"
"Yah. Those three have taken a coupla meals there. Good food, but really lax when it comes to security."
"No guards at all?"
"None."
"That's just stupid. Like they want t' get robbed."
"Exactly. So we's gonna do jus' that."
"Okay, hold on. You guys know that the owner's a professional Scout, right?"
"What."
"No."
"That's such bullshite."
"No, I'm serious. He's an S-rank, or somethin'. Heard it from one of the guys at the Guild. Apparently, couple months' back, he got into a scuffle with Bartimus, Jonas, and Yohns. An' for a few days now, they've all gone missin'. Them and all their stuff."
"Hah?"
"I say Yohns yesterday, though."
"Where?!"
"I dunno. Skulkin' along the main street."
"Seriously?"
"I'd never forget that creepy fecker. Look, maybe they got into a fight a couple months back, but all that talk about them vanishin' is justa buncha bullshite."
"Huh... guess so, if ya saw Yohns yesterday."
"Anyways, let's get back t plannin' this shite."
"Yeah."
"At night, right?"
"Obviously. Less witnesses."
"Any way we kin get word on where they keep the cash?"
"Already figgered it out. There's a concealed room behind th' counter. Y' need someone good in earth-magics t' get in there, though."
"Guess I'll do it."
"Yah. That's why yer here. Best I kin figger, it's a slim tunnel th' goes back a good coupla metres. Only takes 'em a coupla seconds t' go in an' out, so it's prob'ly just a lil' storage-room."
"Easy. So what about the girls?"
"Ferenze says they's up on the third floor. All alone. But th' access up there is hidden somewheres."
"Then they've gotta have a secret stair-case, right?"
"Yah. But instead 'f lookin' for it, we're just gonna use a ladder to climb across the alley."
"What, from the roof 'f the general store?"
"'T's only a coupla metres across th' alley."
"What 'bout the girls, though? They'll be strugglin' an' stuff, right?"
"Knock 'em out firs'."
"Gag 'em, too. Don't want no squealin' t' give us away."
"Yeah, but then what? Where're we gonna keep 'em?"
"I've got a place lined up. Y' know the old warehouse on the hill? Nice 'n private."
"Huh. Yah, that'll work. Can't let my old lady find out."
"This'll go off perfect."
"Only 'f we plan it right. Who's goin' where."
"I'm more inter'sted in th' coin."
"What're yuh, gay?"
"No. I jus' got som' debts I gotta pay off."
"What debts?"
"Money-debts. What else 's there."
"Nah, I mean, who ya owe?"
"People y' don't wanna owe too long."
"Who. Gimper?"
"Mange."
"Eef."
"Didn't even know 't was him I owed, neither. 'T's lik' he's got 't out fer me, or som'thin'."
"Well, y' did feck his sister."
"I married that wench. Made 't proper."
"Jus' so 'e didn't kill yuh."
"So?"
"Focus. Feck. A'ight. So Tom's goin' fer the coin. We need us two look-outs, an Usef'll be openin' the wall."
"Can't be much coin, right? They's only rentin' out twenty rooms."
"They do a fair clip for meals."
"Yah, but at a handful 'f coppers? Might only git a single gold from 't."
"They haven't made a deposit yet, though. Might be a dozen-worth in there. Or more."
"Alright. I'll be a look-out."
"Figgered. But 't sounds like we need t' bring in some mor'. What 'bout Simple Sammy?"
"Well, we kin be sure he won't filch. Dumb bastard's not smart 'nough fer that."
"Yah, just give 'im a girlie an' he'll be fine."
"She won't be, though. Fecker loves t' beat 'em."
"Hey, speakin' of beatings. How's about Hammish?"
"Gods. Th' rate he goes off on women-folk? He'd need six."
"He got pinched."
"What? When."
"Yesterday mornin'. Got caught tryin' t' rob a place in th' northern part 'f town."
"Shite. Fecker owes me five silver."
"That' prob'ly why 'e was tryin' a daylight job. Idiot."
"I wouldn' want 'im, anyways. Can't keep 'is mouth shut after a coupla drinks."
"True."
"Aye."
"So I say we bring in Zander and Kage. They'd need a cut from the coin an' a girl apiece, but y' can't find no-one better at bein' look-outs."
"Former Scouts, though?"
"They's need work like th' rest 'f us."
"Yah, but y' just can't trust those shady feckers."
"They ain't gonna rat, though."
"No, but they might slit our throats 'f we cross 'em."
"So don't cross 'em."
"Yeah... okay. Bring 'em in. We kin use 'em for shields 'f things get rough."
"Alright. So thems for the coin, an' th' rest of us'll be on the roof?"
"Yah. They's got some kinda staff-only lounge up there. Gotta door on 't, so it's gotta lead down inta their bed-chambers."
"No lock up there?"
"I heard a bar slidin' across 't. They must figger they's don't need nothin' else."
"Too easy. Ain't no traps?"
"None I saw."
"Wow. This'll be th' easiest job I've had 'n years."
"An' the take is lookin' pretty nice, too. All those fine girlies."
"Alrigh'. We's got this settled, fer th' most part. In th' morn, I'll track down th' others an' fill them in. We'll hit 'em tomorrow, long as they don't do no deposits. Guess we's gonna hafta watch 'em t' make sure."
"If we time 't right, we kin just sit in the dinin' room. Rotate out."
"Yah. They won't know what we're up to. An' we can pick out our girlies, too."
"Well, let's do half-hour shifts, then. Inside, then out. Be there fer all three meals."
"Come on. That's lingerin' far too long."
"No, no. See, only a third 'f the girls work th' mornin'. Another takes the mid-day, and the rest at night. Ain't no-one talk t' the others."
"Seriously?"
"Dead serious. I was there for all three meals yesterday, an' it was different girls every time."
"Amazing."
"Yah. Couldn' believe my luck."
"Then this'll be easy. Long as we go back for new meals, then ain't none of 'em gonna get wise."
"Exactly. We'll jus' be like any other reg'lars."
"Where d' they actually go, though?"
"Hah?"
"When they's ain't workin'."
"I dunno. Whorin'?"
"Nah. I haven't heard a peep about this place an' that kinda thing."
"So where they go?"
"Friend 'f mine saw 'em walkin' out inta th' woods."
"Huh?"
"Yah. That's whut I said. But tha's what happens. They talk a long walk in th' woods, an' don't come back fer hours."
"Who cares where they go."
"Ain't you curious?"
"No. I don' give a shite. They's prob'ly just pickin' mushrooms or cuttin' firewood."
"In the winter?"
"Like I said. Who cares."
"That reminds me. This one time, I was-"
"Would you shut up."
"Whut."
"You tell that stupid story every time."
"I do not."
"Eatin' a mushroom and windin' up seein' fairies."
"One 'f 'em gives you a golden bracelet."
"Which you pawn off to pay a debt."
"An' the guy who buys it from yuh sells 't t' some noble for a King's ransom."
"Feck you all. I don't tell it all the time."
Zen slowly blinks herself back to reality as she begins to hear nothing but fancies about what keeping teenaged girls chained and bound would be like, and takes a quick sip of her drink before remembering that it tasted like goat piss. "Blah. This 's still horrible."
"Welcome back."
"Hmph."
"So?" Gerald glances towards his sister while continuing to uselessly shuffle a deck of cards. "Hear anythin' interesting?"
"Yup. I heard a lot of dead men talkin'. And it seems that I've got a perfect place to torture, maim, and kill them in."
"Lovely. Care to play a hand?"
"I only play cards with my wife."
"Why?"
"'Cause instead of betting coin, we-"
"No. Y'know what? I don't wanna hear that."