fantasy rp

[awesomepossum]

Lani watched him try to bandage himself, and then she lost her patience.

"No," she said, making a grab for his arm, and snatched instead a corner of his makeshift bandage. She tugged on it as hard as she could. "First you're telling me your name. Then you're letting me look at your arm before it kills you."

[crickety ricket]

Trent barked out a curse and yanked his arm back.

"Crazy, damn woman," he muttered under his breath. He had no patience left to argue. He looked at her then shoved his arm in her face. "Trent."

[awesomepossum]

Lani gestured for him to sit at the edge of the trough. She peered once at his piece of shirt, then tossed it aside and reached instead into her skirt pocket. She pulled out a kerchief, dipped it into the water, and knelt down beside him.

"Trent," she said, dabbing at the wound. It didn't look deep. "You're not always like this, are you?"

[crickety ricket]

Trent said nothing and stared at her instead. Her face clearly showed exhaustion from the recent events she went through. He knew that it was only a matter of time before she would finally break. She needed rest. But who could blame her for worrying about her child?

He knew nothing of the bond mothers had with their children. What he did know about was the bitter cold. It was a cold that only money, drink and freshly spilled blood could warm. He knew how to sharpen his blade and where to insert it between your ribs to collapse that lung and how long it would take before you suffocated and drowned in your own blood.

He was shown no compassion, thus never returned any. Which was why Lani's touch on his arm caught him off guard.

Trent thought about what he was getting himself into. Lord Alfred, the kid, the sister with the guards.

"This goes deeper than just a birthmark, doesn't it?" He pulled his arm away.

[awesomepossum]

He pulled his arm away a second time, and Lani dropped her hand. The kerchief was red with his blood. She stared at it as she spoke.

"Jon... my son. He saw things. Visions. Sometimes he'd wake up from a nightmare and never go back to sleep. I'd stay with him all night, but still he'd never... Sometimes it felt like he wasn't even there."

Her voice trembled and she smiled, forcing up her eyes to meet Trent's gaze. "But we all have our own devils, don't we?" She handed him a clean wad of bandages. "I'll show you where he's kept, and we'll rescue him, and I'll give you the rest of your money. You've done much for me already. I thank you."

[crickety ricket]

"Tell me something then. Once I get him back, what are you going to do?" Trent didn't move from his spot. "What's the point if he's not all there?"

[awesomepossum]

Lani blinked. "The--the point? He's my son."

[crickety ricket]

"Of course."

What else could she say.

Trent didn't take the bandages from her. "You need rest." He stood. "I'll meet you tonight. Three hours. I'll find you." Without another word, he walked off.

[awesomepossum]

Lani blinked again, startled by his abruptness. She watched him go for a heartbeat, wondering if she dared, and then she called after him. "Where will you go?"

[crickety ricket]

(guess what s, I felt so damn sick today, the only way I could get my mind off it was to write this looong post. funny hey? bear with me. gonna see if I can get to franks)



Trent stopped and groaned. Right. He couldn't just leave her. There were soldiers crawling everywhere. He turned back to the woman and motioned for her to follow.

"Home's not an option. Forget any relatives and friends. You're going to have to lay low for a while." He could take her to his temporary flat, at least until he figured out what the plan was. Trent grabbed her arm and walked. But when he made his way to the nearest building, he paused.

"They sending spies on me now?" he said out loud. There was no reply. Trent spat. "Come on out, you sneaking little bastard." He reached around the wall and grabbed him by the shirt.

He pulled out a boy, no older than twelve, kicking and screaming.

"First, if you're going to tail me, do it right." Trent held him there for several seconds before deciding to rifle through his pockets. He found a small but full pouch of coins then let him drop to the ground.

"A little generous for the clan, don't you think Goat?" Trent said as he pocketed the coins.

Goat protested and as he did, Trent whirled around, shoving the boy into the wall, a knife suddenly at his throat. "I can kill you before you even knew you were dead. I'm trying to think of a reason to let you live and frankly, I really cant. So either stop tailing me or start talking."

"It's been three weeks since you skipped prison," Goat remarked. "And you haven't checked back in with us. You can't just leave, Trent."

"I didn't leave. I just didn't come back yet." He let him down. "And what's this business about referring me to do this Lord Alfred job? If I didn't come back yet, why put me on call?"

The kid said nothing.

"Well while you think about that, go back and tell Riggs I'll be seeing him." He stuck out a finger. "Try tailing us, Goat, and see what happens," Trent added dangerously. He shoved the boy away and walked on.

After several minutes, they got to his flat. The room was small, littered with dozens of empty bottles. The only piece of furniture in the room was a table, which held a few knives. Trent took several coins out from the pouch and gave the rest to Lani. "If you really need to leave, make sure you aren't followed. You die, I don't get paid." With that, he left.

[awesomepossum]

[pfft it's a beautiful post. hope Frank takes you.]



Lani winced as the door slammed behind him. The lock clicked, but even so she tried opening it just to be sure. Locked secure.

Lamplight glittered on empty bottles. Lani kicked some aside and came to the table with the knives. She took the lamp, turned, and shone it around the room. Little to see. In the corner was a crate which might have passed as a chair, but besides that--nothing. Lani wondered where he slept before she remembered, resignedly, the bottles. How many nights did Trent spend out cold on a tavern floor?

Lani slid to her knees and pressed her hands against her face. A drunk. A dangerous drunk, but a drunk nonetheless. She'd paid everything she had--all her jewelry, all of Rickard's savings--for a miracle that would rescue her son. And Trent...

He was no miracle.

What would Rickard say? He would have sighed and shaken his head--"what a fool I married"--but she coudn't regret it. How could she? By the time he returned, it might be too late, and Jon might be dead. If he wasn't already.

She thought of Jon dead and waited for tears that wouldn't come. Her tears were gone. Slowly she climbed to her feet.

She needed sleep, but she couldn't. She was too tired to sleep. Instead she returned the lamp to the table, beside the coin pouch, and cast about for something to do.

The room was dirty.

Lani knelt, ignoring dizziness, and began gathering bottles into her arms. The room's single window, she'd noticed, opened conveniently above the gutter.

[crickety ricket]

Trent stood outside the main doorway that he knew for so long. Several of the men outside shot him wary looks. They knew who he was and what he was capable of. He saw the familiar symbol on their arms and knew they were part of the clan. Trent clenched a fist. As he made his way to the door, he caught sight of Goat staring at him, guilt in his eyes. Trent said nothing as he walked past him and up to Riggs. The man's milky white eye followed Trent as he came to a stop before him.

"Finally back from the pound," Riggs said.

"Where's the money the mother gave you," he demanded. Trent knew that Lani paid them all she had. He was taking it with him.

"That's what I like about you, Trent." Riggs tossed a sack onto the table. "You get the rest once you finish the job."

Trent tightened his grip on the hilt of his saber.

Riggs eyeballed him with his one good eye. Suddenly, before Trent could react, Riggs shot forward and grabbed his right arm and pulled back his sleeve to reveal the symbol. Two lines and a short one on the inside of a circle. A symbol of loyalty to the clan, the same as every other man here. Except the one etched on Trent's arm had a scar over it. A recent scar.

Trent tore his arm free.

Riggs nodded his head then gave Trent a brutal right hook to the side of his face. Trent stumbled back but rebounded just as quick, this time with a knife in hand. A single drop of blood fell to the table, seeping from the fresh cut on his brow. Half a dozen men had swords out on Trent, ready as he was to kill.

"You want out?" Riggs laughed. "All the years you've worked for me, I thought you'd be smarter."

Trent spat at his feet.

"I'm walking out of this door tonight," he declared. "It's the last night I will ever set foot in this place. Every man you send after me tonight will die. You try to follow me out this door, you die." He gave Riggs one last look then slammed the point of his dagger into the table between them. "I don't work for you."

Riggs just smiled.

Trent grabbed the sack and headed for the door.

"You and I both know, Trent, this doesn't end until one of us bleeds."

Trent continued to walk. He was right. But for tonight, no one dared to follow him.

...........

He got back to the room an hour later. Immediately after he unlocked the door, Trent went straight to the table and shoved everything to the ground in anger. He picked up the bottle that was left on the table and took a swig, only to find that it was empty. He smashed it to the floor, sending shards of glass everywhere. Trent turned to check if any of the other ones were full.

He had forgotten that Lani was in the room. All the bottles that were lying around were gone.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped.

He glared at her, waiting for her reply. Trent sighed and sat on the floor, next to the pieces of glass. He reached into his leather coat and pulled out the sack of coins. Trent stared at the gold, debating. Everything she had. Trent didn't know why he was being this generous to her. He knew he'd end up regretting it later. "Here." He tossed and it landed by her feet.

"He robbed you," said Trent. "I'll get you your boy for less." He picked up a piece of glass. "What's the plan?"

Trent looked down and saw the tattoo on his arm staring back at him. Riggs was right. Trying to cut out the brand wasn't going to change the truth.

But he pulled down the sleeve anyway.

[awesomepossum]

Lani lowered herself to the floor across from him and waited for her heart to stop thudding. There was a brand on his arm, scarred. She had time to spot it and wonder what it was before he jerked his sleeve down to cover it.

A sack of coins lay in front of her. She stared at it.

The plan. Trent wanted the plan.

She remembered the morning they'd come for him, the three soldiers of the watch who'd burst through the door and seized Tam by the arms. Are you the demonmother, they'd asked, and Tam had burst into tears and pointed at Lani.

I'm not the demonmother, Lani had said. You've made a mistake.

What's that? They'd pointed at Jon, bundled up and sound asleep in her arms.

He's just my son. He's just an ordinary boy, please, you've made a mistake.

She remembered the way the sun had blinded her when she'd followed them outside. She'd tried to wrench Jon from their hands, and then they'd struck her to the ground, sobbing, pleading. He was crying for her. He was screaming. They were taking him to Lord Alfred's tower, and there was nothing she could do to save him.

Trent still awaited her reply.

"Lord Alfred's tower," she said, and took a shuddering breath. He looked angry. She met his gaze. "The rumors say he keeps the children in his dungeon. I don't know if it's true."

[crickety ricket]

The children? He raised an eyebrow and stood. "Well it's a start." Trent would have to scout ahead to confirm that. He picked up his knives, one by one, which vanished into his clothing.

Trent thought about taking her along. With all the jobs he had done, he never brought a client with him. Never. Too many things could go wrong. They'd only get in the way. But this was different. She could help him identify the son faster. They'd already lost some time. But things could only go downhill from there. She would slow them down in their escape. It would be risky, she could die, and then Trent would have to feel guilty for bringing her, as if he didn't have enough tormenting him already.

"I need to know what he looks like." Trent turned his head to see if Lani caught on. Let her decide.

[awesomepossum]

"He has brown hair," said Lani, and had a moment to reflect on the uselessness of this information. It didn't matter. She'd already decided to go with him.

"I'm coming with you," she continued. Why would he want her along? "I'll make myself useful. I'll do... something. Whatever you need me to."