"Blindfold? You could just make it obvious you were going to kill me, you know." Aldes' tone was lighthearted as his mostly-mute other held up the black band of fabric.
"Our boss is a private man. You won't know what he looks like until he says you can."
"Right, right." Aldes grinned and accepted the cloth, tying it around his eyes. He held up his hands in a half-shrug. "Eh? How'd I do?"
Have to keep cool, Aldes has no reason to be worried. He's the one in control, just don't let your guard down. He's probably going to punch you just to be sure, don't react, don't-
The room he had been led into was more of a basement than anything. The scent of sea water was pungent; Passages to the outside, perhaps? Useful for getting messages in and out. Runners moving unseen. Baxley's feet shuffled on stone flooring and Warren could just feel the wind-up he knew was coming. It didn't, though.
The two highlanders stood in the room, waiting for the arrival of the secretive man behind Bockenbower's drug trade. With his vision removed, and Baxley's immediate retaliation sated, it was easier to concentrate on his other senses. The shuffling of the highlander's boots on the stone made his position easy to track. The cloying sense of the ocean being near was unshakeable, but Warren couldn't tell much else beyond that. A trap door, perhaps, or a nearby...
The train of thought was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door opened and Warren turned his face in the direction, though not directly at it. Baxley moved on his left in the direction of the door, then perhaps beyond it. Warren was able to discern the approach of two sets of footfalls, then - The quiet footsteps of soled shoes and the telltale click of a pair of heels. His thoughts briefly turned to home.
"You must be my mystery partner!" Warren said, opening his arms in a welcoming manner. Perfume; compared to the scent of salt it was easily picked out. There came an uneasy silence that hung for a moment.
"You are an interesting man, Mister Amrich. A telling name, I think. Surely someone of your holdings had no trouble acquiring the fledgling businesses as they became available." The voice was slight; Warren's mind painted an individual of thin appearance, older than he perhaps. The soft-spoken voice of someone's grandfather.
"I do well enough. Shame what happened to those boys, really." Aldes pretended to give a damn about the deceased.
"Curious thing, that, Mister Amrich. I would like to shake your hand. Your business acumen must be astounding." The sound of shuffling clothing.
"Well, I suppose so. Please to meet you, sir." Aldes reached out in the open air, and his hand was seized by the other's. A pair of them, a firm handshake. His partner seemed to be wearing some sort of rubber glove. Warren's mind raced as the tingling sensation started on his skin.
"Yes, yes." Those hands squeezed his and Warren felt his heart start suddenly. "It takes gumption to waltz into my city and lie to my face. You do not own my businesses, Mister Amrich. I murdered my way into those holdings fair and square. In the game of life, I have always outplayed my pursuers."
The hands let go and the strength went out of Warren's legs.
"I don't know who you are, not yet. I will find out, 'Aldes.' I will find out who sent you, and I will butcher your family. For pleasure." There was a snapping sound - the gloves came off, Warren's mind connected without him realizing - and as he collapsed onto his back he felt their slight weight land on his chest. With a weak hand he pulled away at the strip covering his eyes. Two figures stood above him and Warren tried to get a glance as his vision faded.
The gentleman was thin and aged, though he was gaunt, almost ill. Warren's eyes passed over him, though, as he looked at the elezen hanging on his arm. The woman who had sent him here, the woman who had set him up.
Valeria Verene.
"Our boss is a private man. You won't know what he looks like until he says you can."
"Right, right." Aldes grinned and accepted the cloth, tying it around his eyes. He held up his hands in a half-shrug. "Eh? How'd I do?"
Have to keep cool, Aldes has no reason to be worried. He's the one in control, just don't let your guard down. He's probably going to punch you just to be sure, don't react, don't-
The room he had been led into was more of a basement than anything. The scent of sea water was pungent; Passages to the outside, perhaps? Useful for getting messages in and out. Runners moving unseen. Baxley's feet shuffled on stone flooring and Warren could just feel the wind-up he knew was coming. It didn't, though.
The two highlanders stood in the room, waiting for the arrival of the secretive man behind Bockenbower's drug trade. With his vision removed, and Baxley's immediate retaliation sated, it was easier to concentrate on his other senses. The shuffling of the highlander's boots on the stone made his position easy to track. The cloying sense of the ocean being near was unshakeable, but Warren couldn't tell much else beyond that. A trap door, perhaps, or a nearby...
The train of thought was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door opened and Warren turned his face in the direction, though not directly at it. Baxley moved on his left in the direction of the door, then perhaps beyond it. Warren was able to discern the approach of two sets of footfalls, then - The quiet footsteps of soled shoes and the telltale click of a pair of heels. His thoughts briefly turned to home.
"You must be my mystery partner!" Warren said, opening his arms in a welcoming manner. Perfume; compared to the scent of salt it was easily picked out. There came an uneasy silence that hung for a moment.
"You are an interesting man, Mister Amrich. A telling name, I think. Surely someone of your holdings had no trouble acquiring the fledgling businesses as they became available." The voice was slight; Warren's mind painted an individual of thin appearance, older than he perhaps. The soft-spoken voice of someone's grandfather.
"I do well enough. Shame what happened to those boys, really." Aldes pretended to give a damn about the deceased.
"Curious thing, that, Mister Amrich. I would like to shake your hand. Your business acumen must be astounding." The sound of shuffling clothing.
"Well, I suppose so. Please to meet you, sir." Aldes reached out in the open air, and his hand was seized by the other's. A pair of them, a firm handshake. His partner seemed to be wearing some sort of rubber glove. Warren's mind raced as the tingling sensation started on his skin.
"Yes, yes." Those hands squeezed his and Warren felt his heart start suddenly. "It takes gumption to waltz into my city and lie to my face. You do not own my businesses, Mister Amrich. I murdered my way into those holdings fair and square. In the game of life, I have always outplayed my pursuers."
The hands let go and the strength went out of Warren's legs.
"I don't know who you are, not yet. I will find out, 'Aldes.' I will find out who sent you, and I will butcher your family. For pleasure." There was a snapping sound - the gloves came off, Warren's mind connected without him realizing - and as he collapsed onto his back he felt their slight weight land on his chest. With a weak hand he pulled away at the strip covering his eyes. Two figures stood above him and Warren tried to get a glance as his vision faded.
The gentleman was thin and aged, though he was gaunt, almost ill. Warren's eyes passed over him, though, as he looked at the elezen hanging on his arm. The woman who had sent him here, the woman who had set him up.
Valeria Verene.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
