The Flood

You fidgeted in your meager bedding as the evening hours waned and time for rest arrived, your half-closed eyes on Benjamin. Joining you in your apartment was easily done; there was little else as an option that he could take without an exorbitant cost for a meager dwelling. It had taken some convincing, but you had been able to convince him to sleep without taking watch, understanding that matters were not entirely safe and that someone should keep a look out. He’d made an argument about regarding hospitality and the codes of Quargh, the Third Sister, something you didn’t fully understand or have much interest in. Getting him to sleep without wearing his armor was yet another argument, this one made by Jiaghan. Bejamin knew the dangers of the Matchsticks as well as any city native, and you hadn't even made the attempt to downplay them. In both cases, the two of you simply argued that since it was your home, you should be responsible for his safety, not the other way around.

As you rested your eyes, you worried about the lingering threat, and how things would progress from here. Matters remained uncertain. From a purely logical matter, there would come a time when whatever reward to be gained wouldn’t be worth the cost in finances and manpower to obtain it. The men Benjamin already injured, and the Liuetenant he killed, would probably be enough of a signal of what would happen if this continued. The rent and absconded coin from the hooligans was, for the Dragon Scales and the other rival gangs, a pittance, one that wouldn’t normally be worth losing more than they’ve already done to get it back. On the other hand, the criminal underworld has never been said to be a purely logical and unemotional enterprise. Much of their ability to continue is based on emotions, namely that of fear and of revenge. Their anxiety and Benjamin’s hope would be one and the same, that people would stop being afraid and stand up against the criminal corruption.

It was too early to tell whether Benjamin’s goals were really going to work. Having come around, you believed that he was sincere and had every intention of staying until the problem was solved. Whether he could get anyone else to come around to join him in his cause, before his elusive “brothers” arrived, was another matter. You wanted to believe in the idea. You wanted to have hope, but couldn’t help but be reminded of what you’ve heard countless times in your time here.

Hope is a Fool’s Bet in the Matchsticks.

Even with the uncertainty of the future, you were able to eventually fall asleep. Unbidden, your unconscious mind returned to your deliberate fantasy from earlier. Having seen the man more clearly, his armor removed, it was an enjoyable sight. He was hairier than you’d anticipated, being devoid of any facial hair, particularly along his forearms. For someone who was seemingly so comfortable moving about in that bulky heavy armor all day, his frame was more slender than you imagined. It worked to his benefit, as from the short glimmer you’d seen, he appeared well proportioned and not overly built.

The peace of mind and rest did not last long, your sleep turning fitful and short. Having awoken, you stared at shabbled roof overhead, trying to let your body relax again to get back to sleep. As you did, you heard a slow, methodical creaking of wooden beams, as if someone were approaching your apartment. Realizing it was far too late for anyone to reasonably be coming home at this hour, you feared the worst. If it was what you thought, you weren’t going to just let this happen, not without a fight.

Knowing the loud points of your own floorboards, you rose from your bedding as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb the others or give away your movement. You grabbed your daggers, still paired together and kept within arm’s reach, and hid at the side of the empty door jam. You could feel your heart racing in anxiety and anticipation. Trying to keep calm, you took long, slow, controlled breaths to avoid notice and to keep your wits about you. Your species’ time below the surface of T’sara granted you the gift of seeing in dark rooms like this nearly as easy as humans do during the day. This made it exceptionally easy to see the intruder walking into your apartment. Your keen eyes also saw not only did he have his weapons drawn, immense piercing daggers, but the tattoos starting at his wrist and moving up his exposed arm, loudly proclaiming that he was an accepted member of the Dragon Scales.

You took a short look through the open door, ensuring he had entered alone before you struck. Taking a final, swift breath, as your eyes and mind focused. With immediate clarity, you took a number of silent steps behind him, as you worked to end the fight before it even began. Grabbing him by the arm with the weapon and locking it behind him, you quickly drew your dagger blade across his neck. With a short, swift cut, it tore through flesh and muscle, leaving a dark line of blood. His choking, dropping his weapon to try and grasp at his gaping throat, and sudden falling of his body awoke Jiaghan and Benjamin, the latter reached immediately for his sword, even as the enemy clearly lied dying. He bolted towards his feet, charging towards the door to ensure there were no other threats arriving.

"Liz, what happened?" Jiaghan asked, clearly startled.

"Are you okay?" Benjamin asked as well, showing more calm and awareness, not seeing any other attackers

"I’m fine," you nodded, raising your arms to show a lack of any bruises or injuries "Lucky us I heard him coming. I was able to get the drop on him"

"Lucky indeed. I can think of a few times I could have used that Elvish hearing" Ben smiled, showing a strange degree of indifference as he dropped his weapon and bent down to look over the body, still warm. "You clearly do good work, Liz."

"I'm surprised you're not upset" You responded, kneeling down with him to search for any clues of the attacker. Like the other Scales you’d dealt with, he was a human, though considerably on his years. Graying hair, his skin starting to sag, whatever productive years he may have had were all wasted by now. It’s not the first time you’ve seen someone in this line of work instead of raising grandchildren where they belong. It reeked of desperation that even among the criminals and the corrupt, he had fallen behind and accomplished nothing. He was a disposable asset, something the Scales wouldn’t notice having lost if his mission to kill you failed. A violent end to an unremarkable life, even by human standards. "You were pretty keen on giving those other gangsters a fair chance, and I couldn't do it. Not that I’m complaining"

"Don't worry, you won’t hear a word out of me. I would have done the same thing in your shoes, if I could move as stealthily as you do.” He paused for a moment “My Brothers and I don't hold worship structure and rules like the clerics of Mastro or the Watch of The Eternal Flame. Someone willing to come into a home in the middle of the night and assassinate someone they don't even know for petty coin is a lost cause. If we can't rehabilitate them, than eliminate them."

"Wow" Jiaghan said as she stared at the dead body. Her eyes wide as she looked at the gaping wound in his neck and the pool of blood forming, her body trembling slightly, it was probably the first time she’d seen a violent corpse so up close and intimate. "That's intense.” Helping her, you got up briefly just to help guide her to sit back down, in a place where she wouldn’t have such a clear view of the dead.

Benjamin continued "Don't get me wrong, I don't like killing. I'm not afraid of it either. There are just some people out there whose very life is harming everyone around them. A poison on the very society they live in. If someone has to die to make the world a better place, than so be it. I won't lose any sleep over it. I’ll rest knowing that Delanius and Mastro both will condone my actions" You remained quiet, but were inwardly surprised as your opinion of him started to change. His words were short, but the dedication to his views made it clear that the purity of his vision and cause could rival that of the Watch and their zealots. Your brow furrowed as Benjamin opened the assassins shirt, rummaging through his belongings. Having found a hefty coinpurse in the pockets, he pulled it out and put it to the side, as he searched on his own person.

"What are you doing?" You asked

"This criminal scum was sent to send a message." He responded, not looking up "Consider this our official response". Using a leather string, Benjamin tied the man's coinpurse to his neck, just below where you had cut him. Having grabbed a rope from his pack as well, he tied it tightly just under the corpse's chin.

"Benjamin" Jiaghan started "I don't understand. What's going on?"

"A drop in the storm." He answered as he rose to his feet "the first of what will become a flood of freedom that will wash away the wicked and corrupt." He picked up the body by the shoulders and heaved it outside, moving up the stairs. You and Jiaghan were left alone, both confused and a little surprised. The assassin wasn't the conversation topic anymore.

"Well, I guess he's not so harmless after all." Jiaghan said "Ben's actually kinda scary, don't you think?"

"He's intense, to be sure" You agreed with a small head nod "Clearly not the type of man we thought he was when we first met him.” You paused to look out the empty doorway, still no sign of what he was up to “Don't worry though Jiaghan. We're not the people that need to be scared of him."

"Do you still think he's involved because he wants you?"

You took a small pause, surprised that would be on her mind, after all that occurred. "No." You realized that "Men may be willing to do a lot of things to pursue a mate, but I’ve never seen or met one willing to do all of this just for a romantic fling. He’s clearly here for his mission. To be honest, I don't know what his interest in you and me specifically. He could help anyone in the city, why help us?"

"Maybe he thinks you deserve it." Jiaghan replied with a shrug "It could be just that simple. You over think a lot, Liz."

"It helps you survive, kid. Now get some sleep." You gently pushed on her shoulder, relenting to find her way back to her bedding. You quietly went outside, first to find your other guest. Benjamin was nowhere to be seen from your door, and you decided it was best to leave him to whatever he was doing. Moving as swiftly and silently as you could, you gathered a few scraps of clothing to soak up and remove the pool of blood that had formed. It was a struggle, your body warming and gently sweating as you scrubbed the boards. You resigned to your fate, having gotten what you could. Your eyes fixed on the dark circular stain, forever marking the man’s death as you rose to throw away the bloody scraps of cloth. Finally processing what all had happened, your body trembled. Had you not awoken from your dream, there could have been three pools of blood, not one. Everything ended, in one short, dramatic moment.

It was a sudden reckoning. Involuntarily, your mind recollected all of the events of your life, from your earliest memories to now. Throwing the cloths out, your hands clenched your arms tightly in embarrassment. The reality was too real and too painful; this was not how you wanted to live, not the story you wanted your life to be.

Unsteadily, you retired to your bedding, staring again at the roof as you had just a few minutes ago. It had already felt like it was a different life. Your mind raced as you tried to calm yourself down, eventually getting back to sleep.