Makings of a Monster

They were expecting something from him. Their eyes were nailed to him, and they seemed to admire him. Sarevok could understand that they feared him, after all he had killed their former leader in front of their eyes. But the admiration? They had followed Urjen, called him leader and done his bidding. Now he had murdered the boy, and right away the children would follow him not only out of fear, but out of appreciation. It made Sarevok sad. Is it me with the odd presence entering me who is sick, or are all the people sick, this whole world sick?

Still, their eager and appreciating eyes gave a promise of something he had been wanting. An opportunity to raise above the everyday worries of feeding himself and keeping himself warm. He had followers now. Of course these urchins would abandon him the moment they felt threatened or would gain advantage by doing so. No matter. Gotta use them for what they are good for. Urjen had had two lieutenants, Sarri and Detlev. Detlev was rather useless. He had strength, but no skill to use that to his advantage in a fight. Worse than that, he was soft inside. He got scared right at the moment when he couldn't be sure of having the upper hand, Sarevok remembered. But for now the smaller children would follow him. That counted for something.

Sarri was a different matter. Skinny little half-elf girl, she had no strength to speak of. But she was so quick and agile, and absolutely ruthless. Sarevok knew she would kill without hesitation, and for all he knew had already done so. There was a natural cruelty, an enjoyment for pain of others in her eyes. Sarevok didn't want to admit it, but frankly he was a little scared of the girl. He was content that he'd be able to win her in a fight, but he had no means to control her wishes and fears. He had never met a person like that, and didn't know what to make of her. He wasn't sure she was capable of feeling fear. However, Sarri was a creature of passion. She made no plans, just went with the first idea that occurred to her, usually one involving pain and fear for someone else. She was willing to follow Sarevok, and he kept her happy by letting her play her games.

Only so much could be done by mugging hapless drunks and lost rich children, however. Fewer and fewer people carried their valuables with them, so pickpocketing was hardly worth the risk. But they had to keep the stuff someplace. Inside their locked houses. How about some breaking and entering? Of his underlings Sarri was the only one brave and skilled enough for a job like that. But together they might just might be able to steal something really worth having. Right now they were doing things that were against the law. That meant that they could be sent to jail, flogged or even killed. But if they would manage to avoid getting caught, they would get rich, eventually. And once they were rich, well, it seemed to Sarevok there was no more such thing as against the law.

Sarri was as agile and precise as Sarevok himself, and smaller. This proved to their advantage. She could sneak in almost anywhere and open locked chests and cabinets with her nimble fingers. They found gold and silver cutlery, medallions, cups, some lesser value jewels, silken garments. They got to know the regular fences, shadowy figures who paid on the spot and asked no questions. So far they had only robbed houses with not many guards, and while it yielded them a nice, steady income, Sarevok was tempted to try something grander. It was all good and well to be able to eat properly and keep your clothes clean, but it seemed to him that as soon as he got the hang of something, he would want to do something more demanding.

- "Wow! The Iron Throne place! I like your thinking!"
Sarevok was pleased. As he had expected, Sarri immediately was taken with the idea. Fearless, vivacious Sarri. For the first time he felt a flash of warmth, almost liking, as he looked at her. Her dark eyes gleamed with a glee, her hair bouncing on her narrow shoulders. They had done a lot together, and not once had she shown hesitation or fear. Sarevok went on to describe his plan. It involved a dangerous climb to the rooftop of the tower-like building. It was guarded, but probably they wouldn't count on anyone entering from above. The windows up there seemed to be too small for an adult to enter, and anyway the climb would be too dangerous to a heavier person than they were.

Sarevok wasn't sure what he expected to find inside the Iron Throne quarters. But he did know that it was a successful merchant company, and merchant meant wealth. No other person was more respected in this city than a successful merchant. Didn't that mean that a whole merchant company would store something very valuable indeed? Sarri on her part didn't even care for such musings. Dangerous, difficult, bold - she was game. Yes, Sarevok had grown to like her in a way. She loved life and all its challenges with a vigor he had to admire. The was no resignation or humility in her blazing spirit.

And as the night threw its shadows upon the bustling, chaotic anthill that was Ordulin, the two children climbed the wall, silently, stealthily, one toe tip at a time, cautiously. They had never climbed that high before, but had no trouble reaching the roof. As a small gust of wind tugged his tunic, Sarevok felt a flash of dread. It was a healthy feeling, though. Only a fool would not fear heights at all. Though he wasn't at all sure that Sarri did.

Sarri glided inside without making a sound, and he followed. Empty, dark, quiet. The room seemed to be a study of sorts. There was also a bed with heavy velvet drapes and expensive-looking covers, but nobody was sleeping in it. Sarevok carefully tried to open the desk drawers. Naturally they were locked. Sarri picked the locks with relative ease. Signeted scrolls. Some more signeted scrolls. A dagger that looked enchanted. A few gold sovereigns. An ominous-looking vial. Sarri gave the vial an evaluating look.
- "It's poison. I know. And not any weak poison either." Sarevok trusted her with it. She knew a thing or two about poisons.

So far, nothing too exciting. They continued to search the room, half-expecting to stumble upon a chest full of glowing magic items and pouches and pouches of gold coins. Instead, after a quarter of hour Sarri called in hushed tone.
- "Sarevok! Come look."
She had found a secret door embedded in the wall. It was good craftsmanship, and even though he wasn't about to mention that, Sarevok was pretty sure he would have missed that. It was also trapped, as they found out inspecting it closer. It was the most difficult trap Sarri had ever encountered, and she had to work a long time, while the impatient Sarevok paced the floor.

Finally! Finally they could open the trap door. Faces tight with anticipation they creaked it open. Inside there were papers. Signeted and unsigneted papers. Nothing else. Sarri leafed through them in disbelief, then uttered a yelp of frustration as she realized there indeed was nothing else.
- "What is this crap! Paper! Stupid paper!"
- "Sarri, don't speak so loud. There might be people in the building."
- "Paper! Why would someone hide PAPER behind such a trap!"
Sarevok was wondering the same question, but now he had the agitated Sarri to worry of. They never could make a hasty retreat down that wall.
- "Sarri! Please! Be quiet!"
She wasn't listening.
- "Oh yessss. The fat pig mister merchant is surely laughing at us somewhere. But we'll be the last ones to laugh." Sarevok wasn't pleased to see the malevolent glee in her eyes. She seemed to have had an idea, and he wasn't sure she'd get any good ideas at her state of mind.
- "We'll poison him. See that half-drunken wine in the carafe, next to the bed? We'll pour some poison in and next time he drinks it he'll die a horrible, slow death." She giggled and proceeded towards the carafe.
- "NO! Are you crazy! If we kill a big-shot merchant we'll have all the city-guard after our ass! And what would be the point? We'd not even get to watch!"
Sarri whirled around and looked at Sarevok in disgust.
- "I knew it. You're a coward. We haven't killed anyone in a long time. And now you are too scared to poison the merchant. I despise you! Coward!"
She spat the last word, but Sarevok was already at her throat. The rage, the sting of betrayal burned him, and he felt an urge to strangle her right there. Sarri fell on the floor, surprised, but soon she countered the attack with a punch of her own. Sarevok barely felt it. They rolled on the floor, infuriated, knocking the furniture over as they did.
- "Coward! Coward! Coward!" yelled Sarri.
- "Shutup! Shutup! Shutup!" yelled Sarevok.

And suddenly the wide doors were pushed open and blazing lanterns carried by heavily armed guardsmen illuminated the room. The kids stopped their brawling abruptly, Sarevok pulling his sword and Sarri bolting toward the window.
- "What in the name of...", bellowed the guard in the lead. One of the guards ran after Sarri and the others advanced on Sarevok who retreated towards the corner, his short sword in fighting position. With the corner of his eye he could see Sarri disappear from the window and a moment later the guard pulling her back inside. The men he was facing were adults, they were wearing plate mails, helmets and greaves. Some of then wielded heavy halberds, others shields and longswords. It didn't look good.
- "Boy. Throw that sword away. It's hopeless."
He had a point, but Sarevok just bared his teeth, his heart thumping. One of the guards moved forward, carelessly. Sarevok thrust into the vulnerable area between the plates of his armor, and the man fell backwards, yelping in surprise. Now the others attacked him too. He danced and whirled, tried to parry and mislead, but they simply were too many. Soon he was knocked down, disarmed, and held firmly in his place.

A wealthy-looking, refined man entered the room, and the guards stood in attention. He was followed by another man, who had almost yellow eyes like a cat, black goatee, and a sardonic smile, as if he found the whole situation slightly amusing.
- "All right. What's going on here?" asked the man who obviously was in charge of the situation.
- "We went to inspect the situation and found these... children here. They have apparently broken in here, but they were fighting each other when we arrived."

Sarri perceived the shift of power in the situation, noticed how hopeless it was and started to wail: "That's right, good mister! I was trying to get him let me go, I didn't want to steal, I swear! He forced me, I was so scaaared...". Her voice was not at all like her usual one. She had made her eyes look large and pleading. She seemed to be crying. Sarevok felt such a hurt that he was almost puzzled by it.
- "Be quiet, girl. I'll deal with you later. ... children?!? All right, how did you get in here?"
The man was looking at Sarevok. He didn't answer, just stared at him defiantly. The guard holding him grabbed his hair and snarled: "You'd better answer mister Anchev, you little shit." Sarevok still said nothing. He didn't want to feel scared so he concentrated on feeling angry.
The man he had called Mr. Anchev slapped him hard. It stung, and Sarevok bit his lip. The taste of blood gave him strength. WHACK! Another slap. His ear was ringing. Now the black-bearded man touched the arm of Mr. Anchev and murmured something into his ear. He came to Sarevok and crouched so that he could look in Sarevok's eyes from the same level.
- "Look. You're a brave boy. You don't have to prove it to us or yourself. But were are so many, and you have no hope escaping. Everyone has a breaking point, and in the end you WILL talk. Trust me on this. But you are not a stupid boy, no? What do you have to lose by talking to us? Just tell us how you came here and who sent you. We'll find out anyhow."

Sarevok had to admit that he was right.
- "We climbed the wall and came through the window," he spoke grudgingly. Mr. Anchev looked surprised. He walked to gaze down from the window, then returned. "It is the only plausible explanation, yes." He looked at Sarevok with a new interest in his eyes.
- "Who sent you?" he barked.
- "No-one," said Sarevok.
- "Now, now. Do you expect us to believe that? What would possess a couple of street children to climb atop of Iron Throne quarters and break in there?" said the man with yellow eyes.
- "Well, Iron Throne has merchants and merchants have money. More money and stuff than ordinary nobles. Instead, there was just stupid paper, though," explained Sarevok.
The men looked puzzled, and the yellow-eyed man muttered something, wiggling his fingers, magical tingling in the air.
- "Mr. Anchev, he IS telling the truth!"
- "Well! This one has ambition, have to give him that. Can't help thinking these would be responsible for the series of burglaries plaguing this fair city part lately."
He glanced around and looked at the injured guard.
- "What happened to HIM?"
- "Well, the kid had a sword and..."
- "THAT sword?" Mr. Anchev pointed at the short sword another guard was holding.
- "You mean you had a platoonful of armed guards and he managed to wound one of your number?"
Mr. Anchev chuckled, and the guards blushed angrily.

- "Get rid of the girl. As for the boy, I have a proposition."