[IC] Fatal Souls

[Gowi]

Fatal Souls

[Byrd Man]

The Skavian Shuffle

Kingdom of Terijas

Lord Rahm flexed his hands and looked out from the balcony of his country manor. The scenic countryside calmed his nerves when he was younger, but now it only inspired further worry. Like everything else he owned, the house and the land surrounding it was mortgaged to a firm of money lenders in the capital. The substantial inheritance he’d received at the time of his father’s death was long gone. The little income he made was eaten up by the opulent spending of his wife and six adult children. Slowly but surely, House Rahm was going bankrupt. The mortgages and the money from them were all part of the forthcoming deal.

This deal...

It all started six months earlier when he started to ask the money lenders in the capital for more credit. One by one they all turned him down, being as respectful as they could to a lord approaching poverty. At his wits end, Rahm finally found a man willing to loan him the money. He was new in town, or so he said. Named Lowill, he was a short, heavyset man with rotting teeth and a thick beard. Lowill gave Rahm the money and hinted that something else may be coming down the line if he were interested. After much hemming and hawing from Lowill, the shylock finally revealed that a couple of men were coming to town soon to find investors on a lucrative land deal. The details, not specifically known to him, were at best dubious and borderline criminal but promised maximum return on all investments. After a few days time, Rahm told Lowill that he was interested in whatever deal was coming his way.

Fast forward to today and the men in question were coming to meet Rahm here at his country home. Outside the capital and away from prying eyes they could conduct business properly. A few minutes past noon, Rahm’s servant announced the arrival of two riders. Rahm dressed in his finest silks and greeted his guests in the foyer of the mansion. The two men were dressed in nondescript clothes, all leathers and plain cloth. A tall, thin man with mousy brown hair and spectacles bowed towards Rahm while a short and squat man with a shaved head bowed right after him. Rahm figured the short man was a servant based on his worn clothing and cowed demeanor.

“M’lord,” the tall man said as he came up from his bow. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Sir Magnusson von Magnus of Skavia. This is my retainer, Lars.”

Rahm shook hands with the man and eyed him. He spoke with the accent of a Northman, that was for sure. Magnus smiled at Rahm and placed a hand around his shoulder.

“I have been told you men of the South have gumption, so I am pleased to find out that I was not misinformed!”

“Indeed,” Rahm sad politely. “We are not as tough as you men of the North, but we make up for it with boldness and intelligence.”

“Indeed. Shall we, m’lord?”

They had lunch on the second-floor balcony overlooking the gardens. Rahm ate slowly, observing Magnus all the while. The man had the refined table manners of a noble. Rahm wasn’t well-versed in northern customs, but he did not appear to do anything too exotic. There was talk of the men from the north eating with their bare hands, but Magnus used utensils like a civilized person. The servant, Lars, stood off to the side and calmly waited. Rahm offered him a meal in the kitchen, but both Lars and his master refused. The servant turned a shade of red in embarrassment and remained silent for the rest of the meal.

“I have to say, m’lord, that that was the most delicious meal I have had in some time.”

“I’m glad you liked it, sir. Now, to business?”

Magnus nodded and motioned Lars forward. The man came, removing parchment and papers from a pouch on his belt. Rahm’s servants removed the plates and napkins from the table and disappeared into the kitchen as Lars spread the documents on the table for the lord to see.

“I am not sure if you are abreast of the situation in the north, m’lord, but it seems times of unrest are upon Skavia. A mad king rules for only so long until open rebellion breaks out. Many of the nobles in the kingdom sit upon the fence, unsure of where to side. Plenty more wish to flee for safer kingdoms. This is where we come in.”

Magnus leaned forward and pointed at a map of the Kingdom of Skavia. Several provinces were shaded in red.

“These red territories have land that nobles are willing to sell for comparatively cheap prices. They’re all strapped for coin and need as much money as they can to flee before things get too bad. The king realizes what they’re doing and he has a plan to counter it. I represent a trust of loyalist aristocrats who wish to ensure Skavian land stays in the right hands. The only problem is… the nobles will not sell to the loyalists. We need people who can provide money for initial land purchases at cheap prices. That land would then be resold quickly to the trust for higher, proper values. You’ll be able to double or triple your initial investment within a month. The more money you put into it, the more you stand to make.”

Rahm stared at the map in silence for a long moment.

“I have a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

“But of course,” Magnus said with a reassuring smile.

The two men spent the better part of the afternoon going over the terms of the deal. For every question Rahm had, Magnus had an answer that made sense. It was still a risky proposition, and Rahm had his reservations, but it was too little too late to turn back now. He had mortgaged everything he owned, all the money he could squeeze out of his holdings was on the line. Still.. he could not shake an uneasy feeling. It was the way these two men were too subservient, just too nice. They were trying to sell him on something and of course would be on their best behavior, but still. This deal was nearly too good to be true. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all some big scam.

“I’ll bring the paperwork tomorrow morning,” Magnus said with another one of those reassuring smiles.

“And I’ll have the money, sir,” said Rahm.

The two men shook hands and Magnus again clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“May we both have success in the morning and in the coming future.”

Rahm watched the two men riding off towards the closest town. As soon as they disappeared out of the manor's gates, the turned to his servant.

"What do you think, Barkley?

"All due respect, sir, those men are going to steal every cent they can get from you."

*****

Rahm’s eyes snapped open at the sound of... something. Always a light sleeper, something shifting in the room woke him up. It was pitch black in the seemingly empty bedroom, his wife back in the capital. Rahm sat up and tried to see through the dark for whatever was out there.
Something moved beside him. Rahm let out a sharp scream before the bag went over his head and somehow the darkness got even darker. Two sets of rough hands pulled him from bed and led him down a hallway, pushing him forward and forward through the house and down stairs until he was shoved into a wooden chair somewhere. The bag was pulled from his head.

He found himself in the cellar of the house with candles illuminating the room and throwing deep shadows across the walls. Two men in black tunics and capes stood before him, both of them wearing silver pendants on their lapels. They stared at him with hard eyes, the man in the front a short, heavyset man with a thick beard and close-cropped hair. Behind him, a tall and lanky man with flowing dark hair watched impassively.

“Lord Rahm,” the short man said in a gruff voice. “You’re in quite a lot of trouble.”

“What… Who… I don’t,” Rahm sputtered.

“Silence,” the man said curtly. He stepped forward and showed Rahm the pendant on his chest. It was a dagger. Red paint on it simulated blood. “We are members of the King’s Justice. Are you familiar with us?”

Rahm nodded, the only answer he could muster. There were rumors, of course, but never any confirmation. The king supposedly had a secret group of men who committed many questionable acts in his name. They did the things nobody else would. The rumor was that if you ever met them, then they would be among the last things you would ever see.

“Good,” the man said. “You met with two men today. Do not deny it. Lying will only prolong our ordeal here and I am of little patience. These two men, claiming to be from Skavia, are in fact confidence men. They are liars and tricksters and cheaters who prey on desperate and stupid people. As soon as you give them that money they will flee and never come back.”

Rham felt a coldness in his stomach that started to spread through his body. His deepest, darkest fears were realized. That deal that seemed too good to be true was in fact too good to be true. The men, those kind and well-refined men seemed too polite and too gentile to be true Northmen.

“I knew it,” he managed. “Something did not sit right with the two of them.”

“Of course you did,” said the short man. “And I bet they talked you up, complimented your intelligence and your brashness. That’s how these types work, blowing smoke up your ass and sweet talking you until they take everything from you. Smart man, recognizing that.”

“What… are you going to do?”

“We know who they are,” the thin man said from the back, not making eye contact with Rahm. He spoke in a more refined accent that indicated some upper crust lineage. “But we need to catch them in the act. This is where you come in, m’lord. We need to trap them trying to take your money, proof that they are indeed nothing but charlatans. We need you to play along tomorrow as if you do not suspect a thing. The key is that everything is normal. No extra protection called in, no tipping your hand that you know what is going on. If they get a whiff of what is happening then they will run and we will not be able to find them. Play it normal and as they leave, we will move in and arrest them.”

“So, I have to give them the money?” Rahm asked.

“Only briefly,” said the short man. “We are the King’s Justice, m’lord. We are always watching and waiting. We will move in as soon as they leave your property. We promise that you will get a chance to show these men how clever you really are when you watch them hang in the capital.”

“In that case,” Rahm smiled. “How could I refuse?”

*****

Rahm signed the bill of sale in front of him, folding the paper into his jacket. He looked up from the table and saw the two conmen lugging the heavy chest filled with gold towards the front entrance of the manor. He could barely hide his smile. They thought they were so clever, so smart to be taking him for all he was worth. They had no idea of what awaited them just outside the gates. Now that he saw them with fresh eyes, it was obvious they were nothing but thieves. The long brown hair of “Magnus” looked like the wig it really was, and their fine clothes upon inspection seemed to have slight stains and signs of wear. They looked so prime and proper yesterday because Rahm had fooled himself into believing they were the real deal. They handed out the bull dung and he ate it up because he had no choice.

“We thank you, sir,” the man who went by Magnus said with a gracious bow. “We will take this money to Skavia and be back with the new bill of sale, and of course the money from the resell before the next full moon. You have the bill of sale as collateral, m’lord, in case we are delayed. That mark on the corner is from the king’s own ring, it will hold up as an authentic document in any court in the land. But I do not that will be a problem. I expect to see you soon.”

“Oh yes,” said Rham. “Very soon indeed.”

Magnus crinkled his brow slightly at the Lord’s choice of language before he laughed and agreed. The men shook hands and said their goodbyes before Magnus and his servant loaded the gold into their coach and set out down the path towards the front gate. Rahm watched with a grin as they rolled through the gates and set down the road.

He waited to hear the sounds of galloping horses and shouts, but all he heard was the sound of fading hoof beats from the horse pulling Magnus’ coach. The Justice men said they would take them not far from the gate. He stood and waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, after an hour, he got his horse from the stable and took off down the road. There was no sight of the coach on the road, nor in the nearby town. Rahm cursed wildly and galloped towards the city. The worse thoughts in the world raced through his mind as he rode straight through for two hours until he finally arrived in the capital. He arrived at the magistrate building downtown and approached the front desk by the entrance.

“Help you, m’lord?” the middle aged man behind the desk asked.

“I need to see the King’s Justice, please.”

The man laughed and shook his head.

“Might need to lay down and sleep it off, sir. One too many.”

“Stop playing with me,” Rahm said with a raised voice. “I met them last night, I know they’re real! The King’s Justice is real!”

“They’re a rumor, sir. Always have been.”

“They took me, you see?! A bunch of tricksters from Skavia had a plan, a land deal that was secret and against the law, selling to outsiders but the profit.”

“Sir,” the clerk said with raised eyebrow. “Are you willingly telling me you partook in land fraud? May want to keep your mouth shut, sir, before I throw you into a cell!”

Rahm cursed and left the building in a huff. He went across town to the west side. Lowill! Of course, the blackguard was the reason he was in this mess. He had to be in on it like the rest of them. All those months of carefulness on his part was a trap to lure Rham in until he was ready to be taken! He rode hard through the slums of the city was where Lowill’s money lending business operated. His horse galloped through the mire and the muck towards the little house where… there was nothing. Lowill’s business, active and thriving just days ago, was boarded up and empty.

Rahm climbed off his horse and looked at the boarded up house before he sunk to his knees. It was gone. Lowill, the King’s Justice, and his money.

All gone.

*****

“What is the first rule of grifting?” Jock Sturgeon asked his riding companion.

“Make ‘em think they’re smarter than they are!” Faro replied with a harsh laugh.

The two men rode the coach as fast as their horse and buggy would carry them out of Terijas. The back of the coach was loaded with wigs, the costumes of Skavian noblemen alongside black capes and tunics, false rotten teeth, and, of course, the chest loaded with gold.

“To the greed of others,” Jock said in a mock toast. “May it continue to trump their intelligence and serve to further our own greedy pursuits!”

“Hear hear!”

The two men laughed together as they rode off into the sunset with their ill gotten gains.