"I will not become a monster to hunt a monster..."
Stress. That is what it was. Yes, her nerves were merely on edge. After watching Delial take her 'gift' followed by Jameson's latest outburst, Coatleque was finding it harder to focus on her mundane daily work. She merely needed to distract herself. Yes, everything would settle down again in a few days.
The last few onzes of cinnamon whiskey in her drawer were becoming more alluring every day now. That is not an option, she told herself. Bad things happened whenever she drank. It was time to find a new vice that would be much less damaging to people around her. Where else better to find such a thing than the new Manderville Gold Saucer?
Three hours and ten-thousand gil later, she found herself sitting on one of the couches of the top-level adjacent from the bar. A well-endowed golden statue facing (thankfully) away from her. She sighed and laid out her last three tickets upon her lap to go over her numbers once more. "Blasted luck.", she muttered to herself as she angrily tore one of the tickets into cheap confetti. This was doing nothing to help her nerves. She glanced towards the bar area before throwing the pieces behind the couch - quite sure she had just gotten away with what amounted to murder when nobody was looking.
So engrossed was she in calculating her final odds that she was unaware of the woman who sat next to her just then. "Sometimes the Lady Luck is with ya, and other times she steals the very shirt off your back." Coatleque only barely heard her as she snorted. "I am finding that out more than I'd li..."
Her words trailed off as she was sure that voice was familiar. Turning her head slowly she did not expect to see Shaelen herself sitting beside her. It appeared that Delial's little 'gift' had worked. What she could not tell was if this meeting was mere chance, or had she been watched this whole time. "Of all the times and all the places." she offered.
The smuggler sat reclined next to the Paladin in a relaxed manner, seemingly at ease. "Well", she began before sucking on her teeth, "No time like the present I always say. Time is gil and all."
"Yes, and lately we have so precious little of both." Coatleque replied with a sigh at her last two cards. She looked up and panned her gaze around the room, nervously looking for nearby security. She was unarmed, unarmored, and unprepared for this particular meeting. If Shaelen was feeling anything similar she did not show it, choosing to stare through tinted lenses at the obnoxious statue before them.
"So... I got an interesting package."
"Quite."
"So you know about it then."
The memory was still too fresh in Coatleque's mind. She had lured the boy, Hroch, out as planned. Spiked his skin with a common sleeping aid sold by the city alchemists (though in a more potent dosage), and he was delivered to a Flame's outpost along the southern road out of Ul'dah. It was in the cold, sandstone room that she stood by and allowed Delial Grimsong to remove two of the boy's fingers while unconscious. Something she was not proud of.
"I know who sent it. That is more than enough.", she replied with as little emotion as she could feign.
"And now you are my... liaison? To keep Hroch alive? Is that how ya do business these days?"
Shaelen shot an accusing glance towards the Paladin, though her eyes were hidden behind her shades. Coatleque narrowed her own eyes and returned an annoyed look. She never wanted to hurt the boy. She wanted to send quite a different message - perhaps a different item of worth or a strip of torn clothing. As she stood in the cell, her own blade ready to draw against Delial in his defense, there was no argument she could make - Hroch had nothing. She had no other message to send except Delial's.
At the time she could only mutter a curse to Nero Lazarov for yet another life ruined in his mad pursuit for blood. Since then she had time to reflect on her own inaction. Coatleque had resolved to pay Hroch back in some way. Whether by gil, material goods, or favors, she would set right the part she played in his maiming. Her voice grew slower, more serious.
"It is not" she intoned, each word carrying a weight of its own. "My hand has been forced, now that a certain pirate at large has admitted to a rebellion in progress." Coatleque knew it was not an excuse, nor could she hope to explain everything to the woman next to her. This was the price she would have to pay for working with the Snake.
"So THAT is the reason that the kinslayer gave you? To hunt down that boy? To relieve him of his fingers?"
At least she is focused, Crofte thought.
"And here I thought you would be thankful it wasn't the entire hand.", Coatleque responded calmly. There was no mirth or mockery to the comment.
Shaelen could only stare at her open mouthed for a moment before snorting bitterly. "She threatened a finger each sun, then the head. As she took from the father, so will she from the son. THAT is the kind of woman you are dealing with. I was going to give Nero to Wolfsong. All HE had to do was let me kill her. AS he SAID he would. What a bunch of lyin' shite that was."
Coatleque shook her head in disgust. "Yet another demand of blood for blood." How weary she was of death. For a brief moment she recalled the same look in Jameson's eyes.
"'She won't meet death at my hands, but I won' be standin' in th'way o' others comin' fer her' he said. WHAT LOAD OF SHITE. Look, I don't CARE about this political feud. You can HAVE Lazarov. He is a customer. I don't snitch on customers, but blood is more important. I was going to give Wolfsong what he wanted for that snake!"
The Paladin's gaze turned back towards Shealen at that. Finally, someone else was beginning to crack for once. Her expression did not fall from its former seriousness. "Then give me what I want for her."
"Not when that snake still has him. You think I'd trust yet ANOTHER deal where she is involved?"
An eyebrow was quirked just then as Coatleque realized the extent of the message delivered. She doesn't know where Hroch is. The barest hint a smile crept over her face as the scales were finally tipping in her favor. "She does not have him.", the Paladin replied matter-of-factly.
"Where is he then?" the smuggler inquired as she now stared intently at Coatleque. The Sworn's image reflected clearly off the woman's shades.
"Safer than in her hands." she noted with some confidence.
Shaelen's attention was now fixated. "I need to know he's going to walk free. With nothing else missing on him. I need to see it. Then you get what I know."
The Paladin offered a slight shrug as if bored. "I can take you to him, but if she catches wind she will know I've double-crossed her. Tell me, just how badly do you want Grimsong?"
The smuggler crossed her legs and began to drum her fingers over her boots. "You have... no... idea. I am still going to kill her. Especially after this. I am going to relish it. Ya know what she did right? In Ala Mhigo?"
"I know enough. The woman has been only trouble in all my dealings with her. I have yet to hear a good opinion from anyone else either."
"Ya know why we call her kinslayer? She don't care shite about Lazarov. This is just a bloody excuse to hunt down more Resistance members. The deluded woman still considers everyone that stood up against Garlemald traitors. The fact that she is being PAID to do it in the name of hunting down some pirate is just icing on the cake. I can't trust Wolfsong. The man's not seeing straight. Ya think his sister has a bleeding heart for the wrong person, it runs in the family lady. Wolfsong got a thing for the snake. The same woman that TORTURED him and killed his parents. HOW twisted is that? But you are a 'Sworn."
It was Coatleque's turn to sit back against the couch now. Her arms crossed as she listened to the smuggler. "I am, which is why Hroch's head is still intact. And I cannot try to understand it. Miss Stormchild, I am not being paid. I have a duty to prevent the slaughter of our citizens which Nero is working hard to bring about. You help me, and I will do what I can to deliver her to you for whatever justice is warranted."
Shaelen's gaze lowered as her stormy eyes looked the Paladin over. "I guess I'll take my chance on your honor." she said with a frown. "If one more harm comes to that boy, or this turns out to be another double-cross... then I'll help Lazarov burn this cursed place to the ground myself." She shook her head. "I don't care about any of this, but I've had enough people protecting and lying for snakes like her."
"I assure you, he was never to be more than leverage." Coatleque interjected with more than a little distaste. "Miss Grimsong took things further."
"Swear." Shaelen suddenly demanded. "Give me your word. I want to see him freed. If you show me that, you get what I know."
Of all the demands anyone could make, this was the one Coatleque hated the most. She had made many oaths in her career, and none had ever been carried out as intended. As a Paladin, a Sultansworn, an Oath was binding even to death. And she would have no control over what others may do to subvert it. Her teeth clenched and eyes narrowed before she straightened herself. If this is what was required of her to save others, then so be it.
"Miss Stormchild, I swear by my Oath as a Paladin, I shall na'er let her touch him again. Help me stop Nero's bloodbath and he will go free."
The contract having been struck, Shaelen frowned and shook her head once or twice before looking away. Yet it was enough, it seemed.
"FINE. Fuck it all. You want to find a Lalafell. A plainsfolk named Qujon Zamajon. He owns a small boarding house in Revenant's Toll. He has a direct line to the pirate. He is the one that acted as a middle man between us; paid me in his stead."
"And how can I be assured he will talk?"
There was a loud snort.
"Take a finger or two.", Shaelen replied curtly. "We got our professional code, lady. But he, like me, ain't gonna bleed for no political cause."
"Understood", Coatleque said dryly. "And how would you like your repayment delivered?"
Shaelen tongued the inside of her cheek, a strange grin appearing on one corner. "My repayment." The words carried a sort of excitement behind them as if it could not come soon enough. "I want what Wolfsong couldn't give me. A time and place the snake will be by herself, and no interference."
"She will certainly want to know the results of our little chat. I think I can draw her out of the city. I am no murderer, Miss Stormchild. All I will do is give you this chance to see justice delivered. What you do is on you."
The smuggler fished a small metallic looking linkpearl from her pocket and placed it on the cushion between them. "That's all I am looking for. Her blood is on no one else's hands but mine. You can contact me with this."
Coatleque sat quietly for a moment before taking up the linkpearl and discretely placing it into her gil purse. For the first time in moons she felt a small weight lifted. Not great, but she could say was receiving the better end of this trade. And a vile woman may finally earn her due. She took a slow, deep breath.
"Your friend is being held at the Flames outpost south of Ul'dah. Put them in contact with me when you arrive. I will order his release into your custody."
Shaelen inhaled sharply through her nose before nodding. "Alright."
"Best be sure you are not followed, else the snake become wary."
"I am trusting this is not a trap, Sworn."
Coatleque snorted. "Do not insult my honor."
"I know how to lose a tail. Don't insult my skills."
"Point Taken. I wish you luck then. I shall contact you as soon as I can."
Shaelen rose and replaced her glasses. "And when he gets freed, I'll take your point too. Pleasure doing business."
"As always." Coatleque replied as the woman left.
She sat back against the couch and closed her eyes for a long while, breathing slowly. Too much. This is all too much. Then her thoughts turned to Jameson and how tired he looked when she last saw him. A twinge of both pain and sorrow flashed through her breast before turning to anger once more at his last outburst.
"If you cannot trust my love... I know not what else I can do."
Words she had spoken through tears and gnashed teeth. Her hands slid slowly down her face as she eyed the bar. Standing then, she moved to one of the empty stools and signaled to the bartender for something strong and twice the size. The smell of smoke hanging in the air wafted past her nose, and she was then acutely aware of another body behind her.
"Lady Crofte," a man's voice said at almost a whisper. "I have a message for you. Lord Taeros has requested your presence."
He slid a sealed letter along her side which she took with an annoyed sigh. "Has my Lord seen fit to have me watched where 'er I go now? How long were you following me?" He said nothing of course, but merely tipped his hat before disappearing back into the crowds. She sighed and broke the seal to read what amounted to something of an apology and dinner reservation.
"Well... I suppose third chances are in order."
