Seize Opportunity

The office was crowded with everyone that had insisted on being there. Rob leaned against the back wall, occupying an enormous amount of space as he loomed over the proceedings. Ryker and Scragg, for their part had taken one corner, keenly observing while they whispered to each other. The brothel madame paced back and forth like a caged animal while Tsan, now dressed in an oversized shirt long enough to fall to her thighs, sobbed gently in a chair right at the center of the space.

Aside the living occupants, the space was devoid of much color or decoration. The plank floors supported a desk of unfinished wood, scattered with ledgers and paperwork. A large bookcase contained more of the same. Even the chairs were simple, betraying the madame’s brutal interpretation of spartan decorating ethos, particularly when compared to the lavish guest areas of the brothel.

The first slap rang out and startled everyone in the room. The madame shook out her hand as she loomed over Tsan. She wasn’t a particularly large woman, all hard angles and sharp features that had been attractive once, but like most individuals left on Spree too long, the craggy, harsh island seemed to have worn away the softness and grace from her. Gray eyes like the stormy sea glared down at the elf, unyielding as they bored into the crying woman.

“What did he say? Did he mention who he was doing this for? One of the mainland gangs? A religious fanatic? Who was the target?” The madame rapid-fired the questions, barely pausing to breathe. Scragg found her lung capacity impressive for someone who sounded as if they were never out of arms-reach from a cigarette.

The madame’s method was surprisingly effective on the elf. The slap quieted the sobbing and Tsan focused her eyes on the madame, mumbling negatives to all the questions, much to the madame’s annoyance.

Scragg, for his part was bothered. Something about Tsan was gnawing at him. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something here and something in the common room. What was it?

He looked over to Ryker, and was met by the human’s default grin, the expression of a man just happy to be included. Scragg didn’t find it helpful, but he’d found Ryker to be more insightful than he let on, so he began whispering his suspicions in the hopes of finding a thread.

“The girl says there wasn’t a bomb.” Scragg started with the obvious.

“But there was an explosion.” Ryker’s observation was pointed.

“So she’s lying.” Scragg theorized.

“She’s an elf, she can hear you.”

“Not after a blast like that.” Scragg paused. “She doesn’t look too bad off for being so close, does she?”

“A few nicks from shrapnel, but no, she’s remarkably intact.” Ryker gave a thoughtful chuckle. “If anything, she seems… peppier.”

“Peppier?” Scragg questioned, glancing back towards the elf.

“Look at the cant of the ears. The brightness of the eyes. Is she high?” Ryker was right about these things and he had more experience with elves in the flesh than Scragg did.

The tiny figure hopped down, approaching the elf as a theory began to form in his mind. His eyes lingering on Tsan thoughtfully as the volume of the Madame’s questioning grew.

The Madame pulled back her hand, aiming to give the elf another slap when there was movement. The human’s wrist was caught by Tsan, and the blue haired woman stared defiantly up at her mistress with brightly glowing eyes.

The rest of the room was taken aback except Scragg, who began clapping slowly. “Bravo… bravo.” He turned back towards Ryker, who motioned him onwards encouragingly.

Turning to the elf, Scragg motioned the madame backwards. “Allow me to clear this up, if I may.” The small figure slipped across the floor until he could look up into Tsan’s eyes, watching the way the blue light in them seemed to shift and swirl in her irises. “Fascinating. I have a theory that may explain all of this. Please be patient, my dear.”

Ryker helpfully slid a chair over, and Scragg climbed into it with a dexterous grace. “You are an elf. Full blood by my measure, are you not?”

“Y-yes.” She glanced to the madame, to Ryker, and then back to Scragg, who had begin taking notes in a small leather-bound journal.

“Good. Good. And you grew up in a noble household? I’m going to guess some cook’s daughter? Child of the servants?” He continued.

“I… I never knew my parents. I was taken in as an orphan to be raised as a servant.” She admitted.

Scragg paused. “Now that is interesting.” He pondered for a moment. “I’m going to guess the household had a lack of magical artifacts simply lying around?”

Tsan seemed confused by the line of questioning but she answered, seeing the way the madame had retreated to the corner of the room to glare sullenly at Ryker. “No, my lord wasn’t that rich. He was some sort of weaver, but he didn’t seem to spend much time making things.”

Nodding, Scragg leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “What happened just before the explosion.”

Tsan gave an exasperated sigh, her ears flattening. “I told you, he pulled out some little device and then he was distracted with Sadie and then everything exploded.”

Ryker let his head knock against the plank wall behind him but Scragg wasn’t done. “How do you feel right now?”

Tsan frowned, the corners of her mouth turning downwards as she stared at him. “Like I just got blown up and watched my best friend die.”

Scragg hissed audibly. “Not that. Focus on you. Your heartbeat? Your skin. You feel different, don’t you?”

Tsan opened her mouth to deny it but she hesitated. “I feel… flushed. My heart seems quick and… and there’s this weird tingling, like when one wears a wool garment and touches a metal candlestick.”

The corners of his saurian mouth turned upwards under the hood. He slowly reached up and lowered it to reveal his face. The madame gave a soft expletive from her corner. “You needn’t be afraid, girl. You just need to answer one more question: You touched that device of his, didn’t you? Maybe just brushed it with a finger?”

He could see the doubt in her, the hesitance at being so close to him. “Y-you’re a kobold, aren’t you?”

“I am indeed. I left my people long ago, though that’s the blink of an eye to someone like you. Please answer the question.” He tried to sound encouraging.

She looked around the room, before giving the slightest of nods, squeezing her eyes shut as if imagining the guillotine would drop instantly.

Scragg nodded to himself and looked back to Ryker. “She’s a breaker.”

The madame looked up quickly, but Ryker beat her to the question. “An elvish breaker? Elves don’t have breakers. Only weavers.”

The kobold hopped down off the chair. “False. Elves don’t train their breakers. Don’t look for them, either, if they should be born to the lower classes. They consider it an aberration, not a gift as the humans or the dwarves do. But I suspect they’re simply rare to begin with as well, not that breakers are common in humans or dwarves either, and trying to determine numbers in gnomes is problematic at best.” He paced back and forth like a lecturer as he expounded on his theory.

Ryker, sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t tell me you want to-“

Scragg cut him off. “We already have her under contract. We can guarantee her discretion, and we can offer her something she can’t possibly refuse as a reward. She’s perfect“

Tsan watched the proceedings, her heart pounding in her chest as they spoke, her eyes flickering to Ryker when he spoke to her. “How’d you like to earn your freedom, girly? Pay your debt in full. One job. We’ll throw in coin and a ship to wherever you want to go after, even.”

The madame cut in, “You can’t just-“

Ryker’s voice went from a merry tone broken with chuckles to a dagger’s edge, leaving bleeding cuts in the air as it dominated the space. “I can and will if it suits me. We financed this place and let you stay on to run it. Never forget that we can replace you easily.”

The woman bristled, but went quiet in her corner for a moment. “She has value. It will need replaced.”

Scragg waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll ship in a replacement. One of the Venheim girls temporarily. A guest attraction, if you will, and then find a more suitable permanent replacement.”

Tsan looked around at the group. “What’s the job?” She finally squeaked.