“So what do you think?” Luff murmured? The coals smouldered casting a dull glow around the room.
“Poor son of a bitch certainly needs help,” Del replied wistfully. “I heard that the Italians were working with him begrudgingly but I didn’t expect them to kick the crap out of him as a welcome-to-the-family gift.”
“Sounds like he’s willing to put up with a lot for a chance to feed his ambition. Could it be that his loyalty will extend only as far as we can assist him in that?”
“Could be boss, but”
“Don’t call me boss, girl.”
“Sorry, Dad,” She smirked, “It seems to me that he can be counted on to serve his ambition first and foremost. Wouldn’t that make him easier to predict and control?”
“You certainly think like a secrets-dealer, seems that whoring was most definitely not your calling.”
“I don’t know of anyone that’s called to whoring,” She remarked sullenly. Her face turned stony at his comment.
“My apologies girl. I know that’s a sore subject,”
“Yeah, whatever,”
“Well while you’re finishing up your moping, here’s what I’m thinking.”
****
Luff walked slowly through Santa Somabra. The streets in this part of town had been made to come quite close to being clean. Sidewalks were swept, storefronts nice and tidy, but there was still a filth that permeated the place. It was a subtle mix of greed, ambition, and despair that hung heavy in the air, suffocating the cleanliness of the place. Off. It just felt off.
That was due, in large part Luff figured, to the recent and meteoric rise of the Italians in Santa Somabra. This was an area firmly within their territory and Luff wondered how long the bandage they had slapped onto it would hold before the festering wound that was Santa Somabra billowed forth.
Getting an appointment with the Italians was surprisingly easy. Luff the butcher-of-men had a reputation that carried far more weight in these circles that Luff the butcher-of-pork. The appointment was with one Eddie Martovanni. He was rumored to be composed of a petulant child and a block of ice in equal measures. A man who showed no emotion until he was red with rage over not getting his way.
Luff turned and walked under the small portico that protected a door from the elements. His fist pounded against that door three times. After a few seconds it opened and Luff was greeted with the sight of a human. He supposed the human was big for his race but he was still dwarfed by the ogre.
“Mr. Martovanni has been expecting you,”
“Well I suppose that’s for the best given that I’m on time for my appointment,” The guard stared dully at Luff before stepping aside and motioning him inside.
It was a nice enough shop. There were knick-knacks on the walls and cluttering various shelves. Different items that had been pawned or sold at various points since the shop’s opening. Rather conspicuous business to choose for a mob front, the pawn shop. Eddie Martovanni was standing behind the counter and made no effort to acknowledge Luff’s presence in his shop.
“Mr. Martovanni,” Luff began,
“I am one who enjoys being spoken to only after initiating the conversation, ogre.”
“I’m sure you also enjoy finding your boys strung up like puppets from light posts. You agreed to meet with me, I’ll take that as tacit permission to fucking speak to you.” Luff inflected his voice with just enough of an edge as to prickly the hairs on the back of necks.
“Yours is not a race often associated with intelligence but this is stupid even for an ogre. You would speak to me in my own shop, surrounded by my men, in that manner? You presume too much on your paltry reputation,” the four men who stood in the shadows began to make their way towards Luff.
At that moment, Luff grinned and took a step towards the nearest Italian. Even for a runt of an ogre, that step engulfed the space between the Luff and his target. He extended his arms up under the back of his coat and pulled out twin cleavers. They were in his hands before he had finished taking his step.
One swing with his right hand was all it took to relieve the Italian of the hand reaching for a firearm. Luff butted the man in the face with his forehead and the man went down harder than a side of beef. Squinting his good eye, he took aim and immobilized another guard by hurling his other cleaver into the meat of the man’s thigh.
As the cleaver landed with a wet thunk, there was a loud bang accompanied by a bright flash. As the smoke cleared, the other two guards were laying on the ground clutching various non-lethal wounds. A dark elf woman stood over them holding a long cavalry saber with a wicked parrying dagger in her off-hand. Eddie Martovanni stood in shock as the whole proceedings had taken but a few seconds.
“Eddie,” Luff smiled, “This is Del. She’s training to become a butcher. What do you think? A natural, right?
Eddie only stared, a few unintelligible mutters coming from his mouth
“Here’s the deal, Eddie,” Del snapped, “We wanna do business with the Italians but we don’t wanna do business with you.”
“Well you’re certainly going to get your wish, bitch,” Eddie had finally recovered from the shock and was quickly turning red in the face. “I won’t ever do business with you mongrels. In fact, I’ll see to it that you never do business with any of the Right People in this town again.”
“Hmm, I see your point but fortunately for us, it isn’t up to you,” Luff cut in, “See, you may have had a say in the matter but unfortunately you were conspiring against your boss.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come now, Eddie, I have it on good faith that you were making a deal with that gnoll dealer. Really Eddie? A Gnoll? Almost as unpleasant as an ogre! And what’s more, this shipment of Demon’s blood shouldn’t really be here, should it?” Luff removed a case full of small red vials that once belonged to the Tong in the counter. “You turned in your cut of things to your boss just yesterday. Strange how these seemed to escape your memory. It certainly looks fishy to me, what do you think Del?”
“Definitely fishy. Seems like something Eddie’s boss would want to know about. Seems like something Eddie’s boss would want to do something about.”
“Well, what if we were to do something? You know, clean up his operation a little as a measure of good faith?”
“I think they would be appreciative. Most appreciative.” And with that, they killed Eddie and took his head as proof.
Carrying a burlap bag under his arm, Luff walked side-by-side with Del back towards their shop. After a few blocks they split ways without words and began to prepare for their individual tasks: Luff to try and get in touch with Eddie’s boss and Del to see about a gnoll.
****
When Del approached Fix’s headquarters dressed as the Hand of Anansi it was well into the night. Streetlights were scarce in this parts of town and the black-robed figure blended in with the shadows. She walked across the street, electing to use the door this time.
Knock Knock
After a few moments the heavy metal slit opened and the recognisable eyes of Fix peered through, lighting up as they recognised the Anansi's hand. A few moments later the door was opened and he ushered her in with a welcoming grin as he greeted her "ah my favourite masked stranger, how you cookin dolly?"
"I'm back Fix, as promised," she said, ignoring his flippant greeting. "Offer's off the table. The Anansi has something different in mind,"
"Something different?" Asked Fix, his mind quickly going towards the more negative side of the statement as his smile faultered.
"The name you get for free. We'll get you in good with the Italians and you'll inform on them to us."
The Gnoll hesitated and for a brief moment his previous statement to Eddie Martovanni ringing in his mind. He stared at Del for a few hard moments before he explained "I don't break my word easy Anansai and despite what they did to me I'd still consider what I've agreed with them a bond. That being said my word was to Eddie and specifically regarding narcotics, as long as you don't ask me to talk about him individually and our particular deal I'm sure I can find a way justify what I pass on. Suffice to say you've already been far kinder to me than he ever was." As he spoke his hand found its way to his black eye as again he resisted the urge to curse the Italian and his entire group of goons as he fingered the wound.
"Eddie is dead. We can appreciate your sense of loyalty, but your loyalty doesn't extend to a corpse, right? We're working on getting you a meeting with some bigger Italian fish as we speak. The name is Khadba, nasty old orc. When the Italians come for you, play nice and give them that name. Then you're in. And remember my promise from earlier, Fix. We won't sell you out, we'll just kill you." She turned to walk out the door, "Oh, and as a sign of good faith, word is that Grizzo the Goblin had a run in with the Tongs. Went in to a stronghold and never came out."
"Grizzo!?" Shouted Fix after her. If there was one thing that the Gnoll would not stand for was one of his inner circle being held at the mercy of anyone. His expression changed in a money from interested to that of a Gnoll possessed.
A large form padded quietly in the fading light. Anyone more than ten feet away would have had a difficult time making out the details of the figure but he was certainly larger than any man. A bag hung from his belt. Its contents dense and wet. After sticking to the shadows as he made his way across town, Luff stepped out under a street lamp and hurled the bag. It sailed quietly through the air and into an open window of a second story building.
When the Italian residents discovered the bag, the news would surely go straight to Episcopo. For it was quite the news: Eddie Martovanni was dead. His head was proof of that. Eddie had also turned traitor on his own family, he'd been skimming of the top, the vials of demon's blood included in the bag were evidence of that. He had gone so far as to hire a disposable gnoll dealer to take out his boss. Unfortunately for him, the gnoll had been smarter than that. The gnoll, a dealer by the name of Fix, had killed Martovanni and thrown his head through the window of a two story building. He'd done this as a peace offering to Episcopo. The Italians certainly didn't like traitors.
All these details were outlined in a note tucked away inside the bag. The writing was meticulous cursive, surprisingly neat for a gnoll and far too graceful to be penned by an ogre. Luff chuckled as he walked away, the puppets were dancing along nicely.
“Poor son of a bitch certainly needs help,” Del replied wistfully. “I heard that the Italians were working with him begrudgingly but I didn’t expect them to kick the crap out of him as a welcome-to-the-family gift.”
“Sounds like he’s willing to put up with a lot for a chance to feed his ambition. Could it be that his loyalty will extend only as far as we can assist him in that?”
“Could be boss, but”
“Don’t call me boss, girl.”
“Sorry, Dad,” She smirked, “It seems to me that he can be counted on to serve his ambition first and foremost. Wouldn’t that make him easier to predict and control?”
“You certainly think like a secrets-dealer, seems that whoring was most definitely not your calling.”
“I don’t know of anyone that’s called to whoring,” She remarked sullenly. Her face turned stony at his comment.
“My apologies girl. I know that’s a sore subject,”
“Yeah, whatever,”
“Well while you’re finishing up your moping, here’s what I’m thinking.”
****
Luff walked slowly through Santa Somabra. The streets in this part of town had been made to come quite close to being clean. Sidewalks were swept, storefronts nice and tidy, but there was still a filth that permeated the place. It was a subtle mix of greed, ambition, and despair that hung heavy in the air, suffocating the cleanliness of the place. Off. It just felt off.
That was due, in large part Luff figured, to the recent and meteoric rise of the Italians in Santa Somabra. This was an area firmly within their territory and Luff wondered how long the bandage they had slapped onto it would hold before the festering wound that was Santa Somabra billowed forth.
Getting an appointment with the Italians was surprisingly easy. Luff the butcher-of-men had a reputation that carried far more weight in these circles that Luff the butcher-of-pork. The appointment was with one Eddie Martovanni. He was rumored to be composed of a petulant child and a block of ice in equal measures. A man who showed no emotion until he was red with rage over not getting his way.
Luff turned and walked under the small portico that protected a door from the elements. His fist pounded against that door three times. After a few seconds it opened and Luff was greeted with the sight of a human. He supposed the human was big for his race but he was still dwarfed by the ogre.
“Mr. Martovanni has been expecting you,”
“Well I suppose that’s for the best given that I’m on time for my appointment,” The guard stared dully at Luff before stepping aside and motioning him inside.
It was a nice enough shop. There were knick-knacks on the walls and cluttering various shelves. Different items that had been pawned or sold at various points since the shop’s opening. Rather conspicuous business to choose for a mob front, the pawn shop. Eddie Martovanni was standing behind the counter and made no effort to acknowledge Luff’s presence in his shop.
“Mr. Martovanni,” Luff began,
“I am one who enjoys being spoken to only after initiating the conversation, ogre.”
“I’m sure you also enjoy finding your boys strung up like puppets from light posts. You agreed to meet with me, I’ll take that as tacit permission to fucking speak to you.” Luff inflected his voice with just enough of an edge as to prickly the hairs on the back of necks.
“Yours is not a race often associated with intelligence but this is stupid even for an ogre. You would speak to me in my own shop, surrounded by my men, in that manner? You presume too much on your paltry reputation,” the four men who stood in the shadows began to make their way towards Luff.
At that moment, Luff grinned and took a step towards the nearest Italian. Even for a runt of an ogre, that step engulfed the space between the Luff and his target. He extended his arms up under the back of his coat and pulled out twin cleavers. They were in his hands before he had finished taking his step.
One swing with his right hand was all it took to relieve the Italian of the hand reaching for a firearm. Luff butted the man in the face with his forehead and the man went down harder than a side of beef. Squinting his good eye, he took aim and immobilized another guard by hurling his other cleaver into the meat of the man’s thigh.
As the cleaver landed with a wet thunk, there was a loud bang accompanied by a bright flash. As the smoke cleared, the other two guards were laying on the ground clutching various non-lethal wounds. A dark elf woman stood over them holding a long cavalry saber with a wicked parrying dagger in her off-hand. Eddie Martovanni stood in shock as the whole proceedings had taken but a few seconds.
“Eddie,” Luff smiled, “This is Del. She’s training to become a butcher. What do you think? A natural, right?
Eddie only stared, a few unintelligible mutters coming from his mouth
“Here’s the deal, Eddie,” Del snapped, “We wanna do business with the Italians but we don’t wanna do business with you.”
“Well you’re certainly going to get your wish, bitch,” Eddie had finally recovered from the shock and was quickly turning red in the face. “I won’t ever do business with you mongrels. In fact, I’ll see to it that you never do business with any of the Right People in this town again.”
“Hmm, I see your point but fortunately for us, it isn’t up to you,” Luff cut in, “See, you may have had a say in the matter but unfortunately you were conspiring against your boss.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come now, Eddie, I have it on good faith that you were making a deal with that gnoll dealer. Really Eddie? A Gnoll? Almost as unpleasant as an ogre! And what’s more, this shipment of Demon’s blood shouldn’t really be here, should it?” Luff removed a case full of small red vials that once belonged to the Tong in the counter. “You turned in your cut of things to your boss just yesterday. Strange how these seemed to escape your memory. It certainly looks fishy to me, what do you think Del?”
“Definitely fishy. Seems like something Eddie’s boss would want to know about. Seems like something Eddie’s boss would want to do something about.”
“Well, what if we were to do something? You know, clean up his operation a little as a measure of good faith?”
“I think they would be appreciative. Most appreciative.” And with that, they killed Eddie and took his head as proof.
****
Carrying a burlap bag under his arm, Luff walked side-by-side with Del back towards their shop. After a few blocks they split ways without words and began to prepare for their individual tasks: Luff to try and get in touch with Eddie’s boss and Del to see about a gnoll.
****
When Del approached Fix’s headquarters dressed as the Hand of Anansi it was well into the night. Streetlights were scarce in this parts of town and the black-robed figure blended in with the shadows. She walked across the street, electing to use the door this time.
Knock Knock
After a few moments the heavy metal slit opened and the recognisable eyes of Fix peered through, lighting up as they recognised the Anansi's hand. A few moments later the door was opened and he ushered her in with a welcoming grin as he greeted her "ah my favourite masked stranger, how you cookin dolly?"
"I'm back Fix, as promised," she said, ignoring his flippant greeting. "Offer's off the table. The Anansi has something different in mind,"
"Something different?" Asked Fix, his mind quickly going towards the more negative side of the statement as his smile faultered.
"The name you get for free. We'll get you in good with the Italians and you'll inform on them to us."
The Gnoll hesitated and for a brief moment his previous statement to Eddie Martovanni ringing in his mind. He stared at Del for a few hard moments before he explained "I don't break my word easy Anansai and despite what they did to me I'd still consider what I've agreed with them a bond. That being said my word was to Eddie and specifically regarding narcotics, as long as you don't ask me to talk about him individually and our particular deal I'm sure I can find a way justify what I pass on. Suffice to say you've already been far kinder to me than he ever was." As he spoke his hand found its way to his black eye as again he resisted the urge to curse the Italian and his entire group of goons as he fingered the wound.
"Eddie is dead. We can appreciate your sense of loyalty, but your loyalty doesn't extend to a corpse, right? We're working on getting you a meeting with some bigger Italian fish as we speak. The name is Khadba, nasty old orc. When the Italians come for you, play nice and give them that name. Then you're in. And remember my promise from earlier, Fix. We won't sell you out, we'll just kill you." She turned to walk out the door, "Oh, and as a sign of good faith, word is that Grizzo the Goblin had a run in with the Tongs. Went in to a stronghold and never came out."
"Grizzo!?" Shouted Fix after her. If there was one thing that the Gnoll would not stand for was one of his inner circle being held at the mercy of anyone. His expression changed in a money from interested to that of a Gnoll possessed.
****
A large form padded quietly in the fading light. Anyone more than ten feet away would have had a difficult time making out the details of the figure but he was certainly larger than any man. A bag hung from his belt. Its contents dense and wet. After sticking to the shadows as he made his way across town, Luff stepped out under a street lamp and hurled the bag. It sailed quietly through the air and into an open window of a second story building.
When the Italian residents discovered the bag, the news would surely go straight to Episcopo. For it was quite the news: Eddie Martovanni was dead. His head was proof of that. Eddie had also turned traitor on his own family, he'd been skimming of the top, the vials of demon's blood included in the bag were evidence of that. He had gone so far as to hire a disposable gnoll dealer to take out his boss. Unfortunately for him, the gnoll had been smarter than that. The gnoll, a dealer by the name of Fix, had killed Martovanni and thrown his head through the window of a two story building. He'd done this as a peace offering to Episcopo. The Italians certainly didn't like traitors.
All these details were outlined in a note tucked away inside the bag. The writing was meticulous cursive, surprisingly neat for a gnoll and far too graceful to be penned by an ogre. Luff chuckled as he walked away, the puppets were dancing along nicely.