Taking Care of Business is a story stemming from an email game I've been running since thi

	Taking Care of Business is a story stemming from an email game
I've been running since this summer.  The only player in the game is
Karl Friesen (krf@purdue.edu).  His character, Silk, was one of the
characters in the first WFRP adventure I ran (four years ago?)  He has
survived to this day and, although he spent a good deal of time in
limbo, was brought out this summer to give both Karl and I something to
do (yeah, right).
	We have made exchanges almost every day; however, email between
Clemson and Purdue is almost instantanious, thus there have been days
were more than a half dozen turns were exchanged (one-player pbem games
are great!)
	I didn't actually write this story; I just concatinated the
messages we've exchanged, tidied them up a bit, and filled in the gaps.
So most of Silk's orations were writen by Karl, not me.  Also, he had
almost as much of a hand in the development of Altdorf as I; when Silk
asked the bartender if the back room was in use, that meant to me that
the tavern had a back room.
	As for the shorts I promised, they're coming.  I had some
problems last week and was pretty much out of school the whole time.
Be patient.

						Jeff Stehman
Path: pdxgate!ogicse!ucsd!swrinde!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!emory!hubcap!stehman
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business
Keywords: A stroll through the city
Message-ID: <11724@hubcap.clemson.edu>
Date: 19 Nov 90 19:57:22 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC
Lines: 200
Posted: Mon Nov 19 11:57:22 1990



			A Stroll Through the City



Ah, Altdorf in autumn, the best time of the year; the coolness of the
day kept the stench of the city down to a minimum, yet the bitter
chill of winter had not set in.  
	Silk was enjoying his stroll down the walk, window shopping 
and, out of force of habit, keeping half an eye open for potential 
customers.  It was the latter that saved him, assuming the goons truly 
did have hostile intentions.  That he was their target was in no 
doubt; one of them was even so kind as to take a step in his direction 
to indicate that he was not passing by unmolested.  Thus it was that 
Silk stopped a dozen paces short of the pair and made a show of 
suddenly remembering some errand or another that led him the other 
way.  However, he had not yet put his plan into motion when he was 
accosted from behind.  
	"Excuse me, sir, would you come with me please?" 
	Silk turned to appraise the sharp dressed man blocking his 
path.  "To small to be a grunt," thought Silk as he took in the 
younger man.  "Looks about my equal.  Must be the brains."  Then he 
noticed the matchlock stuck into his antagonist's belt, revealed 
through a slightly parted jacket.  "Hmmm..."  
	Silk reached easily for his hat and doffed it.  "But of 
course.  Lead on, good sir.  But may I first have the pleasure of 
making your acquaintance?" 
	The gunman turned and indicated that Silk was to walk beside 
him.  Silk, complying, noticed that the two thugs followed along 
behind them.  After a moment the gunman decided on the matter and 
spoke.  
	"Well, I don't see why not.  I mean, there's really no reason 
we can't be civil about all this.  If we are in error, you will have 
our apologies; if not, you will be dead.  I am is William; William the
Sharp."  
	"Well, William the Sharp.  I can't say I'm terribly pleased to 
make your acquaintance.  I was rather enjoying my stroll."  
	"Understandable, understandable."  
	A coach pulled along side them and jerked to a halt.  
	"I think we've walked enough," said William by way of 
explanation.  
	Silk opened the door and climbed into the coach, seating 
himself in the center of the back bench.  He watched as William 
climbed into the coach and sat across from him.  The thugs started to 
climb aboard, but Silk protested, asking William, "Would it be 
possible for these fellows to ride outside?  After all, if I am 
traveling to my doom, I would prefer to do so in comfort."  
	William shrugged and ordered one of the pair to sit up front.  
The other climbed aboard and sat next to William, scowling at Silk as 
he did so.  The coach moved along at a leisurely pace, eventually 
arriving at a house--a house in name only; since it bore no noble 
crest it did not qualify as a mansion.  Silk was ushered into the 
house, through the main hall, and then to an office.  William frisked 
Silk, removing his knife as well as his prized walking stick and 
setting them on a table off to one side.  He sat Silk down in a chair 
in the middle of the room, facing a desk, and stood behind him.  One 
of the thugs remained, leaning against the wall near Silk's weapons.  
Momentarily, a richly dressed businessman who was moving on in years 
entered the office and seated himself behind the desk.  
	"Fetch the mistress."  
	The thug left and returned shortly with a woman who was 
apparently the merchant's wife.  She was very nervous as she walked 
around Silk.  Pausing for a moment in front of him, her eyes widening, 
then she scurried behind him, out of sight.  The merchant looked past 
Silk and his eyes narrowed.  Silk heard the door close, not unlike the 
sealing of a coffin, as the thug resumed his place.  Silk's one good 
eye could not help but glance towards his walking stick.  
	The man behind the desk sighed and steepled his fingers.  "I 
don't suppose you would care to return my wife's jewels before I have 
you killed?"
	Silk cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "I must confess sir,
that I am at somewhat of a loss.  I know nothing about you or your
lady, and I can assure you that I am not responsible for the loss of
her jewels.  If I had wronged you or your house, I would gladly make
amends, but I cannot answer for any actions other than my own."  He
paused for a moment.  "Now then, the recovery of your wife's jewels
is another matter.  I may be able to help..."  
	"Silence!  I did no bring you hear to babble on about 
nonsense.  Two nights ago you were here on a perverted errand that you 
call business.  If you will not return the jewels, that is fine; they 
are replaceable, if expensive.  However I will not tolerate the loss 
of face at having some petty hood waltzing through my home, stealing 
what is mine and terrorizing wife..."  
	Silk's own blood heated.  "You will not tolerate a loss in 
face.  But you are perfectly willing to have your honor bought by the 
death of an innocent.  I am not an honest man, sir, but I swear to you 
by whatever gods there may be that I have never been in this house 
before.  How can you be so certain that it was I who was seen, and not 
another?  What did you see?  A man in a coat with an eyepatch?" 
	William set one hand firmly on Silk's left shoulder and a 
knife point about halfway between his neck and his right shoulder.  
Silk took the hint and forced himself to relax.  
	"She saw you!" the merchant hissed.  "Not a man with a patch, 
but you!  She collided with you in fully lit corridor; she could 
hardly be mistaken.  Enough of this."  
	Both the hand and the dagger were removed.  
	Silk spoke quickly but quietly.  "Sir, any thief of average 
intelligence would avoid a lighted corridor at all costs.  Whoever it 
was who was here two nights ago wanted to be seen, and wanted you to 
believe that the intruder was I.  It appears that they have succeeded.  
I am at your mercy."  
	The merchant scowled for a moment, then nodded.  "Only a fool 
would do such a thing.  William?" he inquired, looking past Silk.  
After a moment the merchant's eyes hardened and he looked back to 
Silk.  "Only a fool..."  
	"But he doesn't have a rep as a home invader," William added.  
	The merchant nodded to the side and, as William moved across 
Silk's sight, coiling a length of cord and heading for the chair his 
employer had indicated, the merchant leaned back in his own chair.  
"It was you my wife saw.  Exactly you.  Talk to me.  Quickly."  
	Silk took half a moment to organize his thoughts, wishing he 
could have the other half; however, "There are those who are skilled 
in the craft of making things appear other than what they are.  A 
battle with one such illusionist cost me my eye.  While I am not wise 
in the ways of magic, I imagine that the creation of a magical 
disguise would be a mere parlor trick for one who has practiced the 
art.  
	"Given that it was a disguise that your wife saw, the question 
is `Why was I chosen?' I have two explanations for this.  First, if 
the thief knew of your sense of honor and justice, he, or she, knew 
that you would easily locate and apprehend me."  Silk gave William 
half a sidelong glance.  "Once captured, I would be disposed of, and 
you would resign yourself to the loss of your valuables.  Thus, the 
burglar would escape with his loot and he would no longer be hunted by 
you.  This is the simplest explanation, but it is a complicated 
operation for the theft of some jewels.  
	"I believe that it was not by accident that I was chosen as 
the one to take the fall.  I do not know how much you know of the 
black market, but it is structured in a manner similar to merchant 
cartels.  There are several houses or guilds which ply their trade, 
competing for shares of the market.  Competition is intense, and 
cities rarely support more than one or two houses.  I belong to no 
house, and as a free-lance, I am disliked by the guilds.  Even though 
my cash flow is small, they see it as cutting into their profits.  If 
I were dead, then I would no longer be a nuisance to them.  
	"Finally, this thought has occurred to me.  Perhaps this is 
also an attempt by a guild house to strike a blow at you.  Have you 
ever been approached on the subject of `protection' or `insurance' for 
your goods?  Some merchants concede to such blackmail.  Those that do 
not cooperate are targeted in order to bring them around.  
	"There may be other explanations.  To me, these are the most 
obvious."  
	The merchant gave Silk a hint of a smile.  "Protection?  You 
apparently do not know me.  I am in the import/export business.  I own 
a score of riverboats.  If anyone goes against me, I have the 
man-power and the money to go to war; and if I must fight, it is to 
the death.  I protect me and mine; that is well know.  And careful 
with your 'givens,' but I'll let that pass for the time being.  
	"As one you has purchased magic from time to time, I do not 
think that what you are contemplating is a mere parlor trick.  Indeed, 
I do not know of a single person who is practiced in the arts 
necessary for such a feat, and I believe that would make such wizards 
few and far between in these parts.  
	"It seems to me, my dishonest man, that your rivalry 
hypothesis is the most probable.  However, strong magic would put a 
high price on snuffing out a single small fry in a larger game."  The 
merchant paused for a moment.  "Hmmm, let me correct myself.  I'd say 
that probability is on the side of you having stolen the jewels.  Now 
then, any ideas, notions, or propositions?" 
	"Sir," Silk replied, "I am eager to discover the perpetrator 
of this hoax, and to recover your jewels.  There are two ways to 
approach this undertaking.  The first is to let `them' think that they 
have succeeded in their plot.  This would require that I `disappear'; 
abandon my trade and not be seen in public.  However this would make 
it quite difficult for me to make the necessary contacts to recover 
the jewels; indeed to discover any useful information at all.  
	"Another way to deal with the problem is to let `them' know 
that their plan has failed.  I would carry on my business as usual, 
with a bit of additional flair.  I would explain our meeting as a 
business meeting, to obtain some rare commodity; asking for the jewels 
might be a bit obvious.  While I search for your valuables, `they' may 
try again; either to kill me, or to pull off another robbery such as 
the one two nights ago.  I would be the bait for the trap, and your 
men would provide the steel.  
	"I am not particularly fond of either of these measures.  The 
first kills me financially, and the second may simply kill me.  
However, desperate times call for desperate remedies, and until I know 
more about what is happening in the underworld, I don't know that 
there are many other options."  
	The merchant was silent for some time, then, "Theoden, escort 
this gentleman to the gardens.  Perhaps he might find something there 
to interest him for a span of time."  
	The thug muttered a reply and took Silk away, obviously 
disappointed that violence was not immediately forth coming.  However, 
once in the gardens he was kind enough to point out to Silk that the 
back wall was all that stood between him and the river and that he 
should feel free to try and escape.  This particular thug had a 
particularly evil chuckle, but then, Silk recalled, grunts usually 
consider themselves to be quite witty.  
	Half an hour later yet another bodyguard arrived to take Silk 
back to the merchant.  William was standing behind him.  
	"Looks like it is going to be business as usual for you.  
William will be in touch.  The coachman has instructions to return you 
to your abode and publicly treat you higher than your station demands.  
Good day then, and remember; a man who is in the import/export 
business is likely to have a very long reach."  


						Jeff Stehman
From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Mon Nov 26 21:17:21 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (ii)
Keywords: Taking Care of Business
Date: 26 Nov 90 18:02:40 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC




			Taking Care of Business


The coach came to a stop and Silk climbed out.  He had chosen this
place as it was near his apartment, but still had heavy traffic.
	"Good day, my lord!" called the coachman.  "Has been an
honor!" With that the coach rolled away.
	Silk allowed himself a secret smile, then took a deep, free
breath.  "Ah, back on the streets again," he thought happily to
himself.  "Gods, how I hate this part of town!  Well, first things
first."
	Silk entered the closest tavern and, after a pint and some
grub, headed home.  He gave his apartment a very thorough search and
rigged a few complications on the door and shuttered window, then
allowed himself a bit of a nap.  As evening approached, it was time
for his rounds.  O'Malley's Place topped the list.

"Silk!  I really wasn't expecting to see you tonight, 'cept down at
the Moor's to identify the body.  We was told about your coach ride
this morning."
	Bartenders, like thugs, always seemed have a strange sense of
humor, recalled Silk.  He proceeded to the bar and ordered a jar of
house wine amid, "good to see ya" and "glad you made it" from several
of the patrons.  As he took a drink Slick walked in with one of his
light-fingered girls; an occasional source of business for Silk.
	"Silk!" called the bawd.  "I heard you was dead!"
	Silk shook his head and muttered to the bartender, "And I
thought none of you cared."
	"Actually, we have been discussing who we would let take over
your turf."
	"Already, huh?  No matter, your just doing what you have to.
Nevertheless, it sounds like an interesting topic of discussion.  Let
me rephrase that; I would like to know what individuals you find
acceptable, and why.  Please continue the discussion, by all means."
	"Sure," replied O'Malley.  "First off, we like you, we like
your style...  we like the fact you only have one eye.  It gives you a
blind spot and makes ambushing you easy, should we ever have to take
you out."
	Before Silk could react to that revelation, O'Malley
continued.  "Now then, Oglethorpe here has been contemplating a step
up in life.  He seems to think you have things fairly easy, not
actually having to do any of the, ah, manual labor, if you know what I
mean.  He's pretty sure he could gather a few clients to start life
off, and go from there; and we're pretty sure that, what with his
gimpy leg and all, we could run him down if need be.
	"On the other hand, there's Narts the Flea from dockside.
He's got the experience, got the connections, and is real easy to
intimidate if you can catch him alone.
	"Buster nominated Rasputan, who pretty much works Broadway and
also has a few connections around the university.  Terrence here
doesn't like that one though; said he's been overworked and acting a
bit quirky of late.  Besides, I don't really like his name; something
in my gut tells me this guy would be hard to take out..."
	When that seemed to end the list of prospective freelance
fences, Silk turned to Terrence, for whom he occasionally moved goods.
"So what are your connections with Rasputan?  And what do you mean by
`overworked and acting a bit quirky'?  I don't like the sound of
that."
	"My connections are just that," replied Terrence as he took a
sip.  "And by overworked I mean that he has been running around a lot
lately; always in a hurry, has more drops than usual, etc.  As for
quirky, maybe he's just sucking on zip.  I had a drop with him the
other day and, well, he was acting paranoid.  His eyes were jerking
all over the place and he was very tense.  I didn't get a good look at
his tongue to see if it was blue, but that's the last time I'll use
him; zip makes people crazy and I don't like having meets with crazy
people.  Things are dangerous enough as it is."  He gave Buster a bit
of a nasty look across the room.  Taken back, Buster wandered over.
	"What's your problem, boy?" Buster inquired of Terrence.
	"My problem is your anchor, flicher.  He's a freaked out,
drug-sucking, worm of a fence who's gonna' burn himself and take all
his contacts down with him..."
	"Why you..."  Bam!  Poof!  Bip!  Pow!  Oof!  Pop!  Ow!
	"Whap!  Whap!  Whap!," replied the bartender's stick, and
order was soon restored.  Buster's face was kind enough to open the
door for Terrence, though not wide enough to keep his shoulder from
ramming the doorjam before he rebounded into the street.
	"Hotheads," grumbled Silk.  "Hmmm..."  Narts was believed to
be family in one way or another, although nobody really seemed to know
how, or even which family.  He lived among the docks, near the western
bridge between the mercantile district and downside.  Silk lived near
the eastern bridge; on the good side, like Narts.  Contact between the
two was practically nonexistant; Narts did not walk Silk's streets,
and pretended not to see Silk when he was down dockside.  Not that
fences were all that territorial; Narts just did not like stepping on
people's toes.
	As for Rasputan, he worked a piece of the Emperor's Highway
and bits of the university; a fair distance from Narts and Silk.  Back
in his bawdish days, Silk had worked with Rasputan, once.  One of
Silk's clients had the misfortune of being mugged in a back alley (he
had the strange notion that it was the best way to get to Betty's
Place).  There had been a bit of argument over the split, but it had
been resolved nonviolently.  Shortly after that Rasputan started
selling insurance to shopkeepers and that was the last of their
relationship.
	Silk turned his attention to Oglethorpe.  Once a burglar, and
supposedly a clever one, although somewhat lacking in skill,
Oglethorpe had broken his leg.  Now he was little more than an
opportunist; he did not get too many opportunities, either.
Oglethorpe had always had bad luck.
	"Is the back room in use?" Silk asked.
	"Nope."
	Silk tapped Oglethorpe's arm lightly with his walking stick.
"Follow."  The fence took a lamp from its hook and led the way into
the back room.  Once inside, he closed the door and set the lamp on
the table.  Seating himself on a bench, he and motioned for Oglethorpe
to do the same.
	"I prefer to stand, thank you very much."
	"Very well.  Then I suggest that you start by telling me why
you think you've got what it takes to take my place, Oglethorpe."
	"I think you've let all this attention go to your head, Silk.
You may be street wise, but you're not too smart.  I don't think it
would take too much to take over your operation.  If I set up shop
next to you I'd put you under in no time, especially now.  Your base
is home grown, yet you let yourself to be seen doing business uptown.
Now, merchandise has to be moved, but the locals don't want to know
about that part.  To them you should be nothing but a sinkhole; the
simpler it is, the more comfortable they are."
	"You have just stated the ideal business practices; lemme see,
do I have a feather for your cap?  I am well aware of the risks of
being seen.  We live in an imperfect universe, Oglethorpe, and as you
said, merchandise must be moved.
	"It sounds like you have been thinking of this career switch
for some time.  My demise could have been quite a break for you.  As
it stands, you are back to square one.  Almost.  I can see that you
have figured out the strategy of the business.  The hard part is in
the execution, the details.  If you want to put on a new hat, I can
help you along, teach you the fine points, but I will require a price.
Interested in hearing more?"
	Oglethorpe sat down with a sigh.  "I'm listening."
	"That's better.  As you have noted, there are drawbacks to
doing everything yourself.  Notably that the exposure necessary to
dispose of goods is a liability when it comes to acquiring the same,
and vice versa.  A two man arrangement can work much better, with one
person devoted to servicing the supply and the other satisfying
demand.  If a person was motivated to learn the trade, such a person
would be useful as an assistant.  Furthermore, as the assistant became
more experienced, he would make a valuable partner, associate, or
contact, whichever was most acceptable to both parties.  Of course the
down side is that you have to trust somebody other than yourself."
	Silk was silent for a moment, then prompted Oglethorpe; "Your
move."
	Oglethorpe took a deep breath and gave the cord a couple of
tugs.  A moment later O'Malley stuck his head into the room.
	"Set 'em up again, please."
	Oglethorpe wore a blank stare until the drinks were brought
in.  After draining half of his mug in one pull, he smiled a bit.
	"Right, I'm interested, but I want to know a few things.
Which end do I work?  What is my cut in the beginning?  What is my cut
in the future?  How much do we divorce our ends from each other?  I
mean, we are going to have to find a line that satisfies trust and
security; does the right hand wash the left, or does it not know what
the left is up to?"
	Silk looked Oglethorpe over; the thief had a few hard years on
Silk.  "You got much coin Oglethorpe?  One of the harder things about
starting out is having an adequate supply of coin."
	"I have next to nothing; this extra drink was a splurge,"
Oglethorpe said with a shake of his head.
	Silk nodded.  "That would tend to suggest that it would be
easier for you to sell than to buy.  However, selling requires a more
delicate touch with customers; a touch that matures with experience.
Thus, I should work the sales end of things.  Picking up goods tends
to be easier.  You have some clients lined up?  I mean, I am capable
of working both sides of the street.  Hmm, looks like there are a lot
of reasons to set things up either way."
	"I was thinking of having a chat with a few of the boys here.
I know a few other petty thieves; worked with a fair number of them in
my day.  None of them were big time, but then, I'm not fool enough to
try and start out big.  A rep is important, and that takes time.  Hmm,
if you are wanting to kind of fade out of the business, perhaps I
should 'steal' your clients; that was my original intention."
	"Sounds like you have a good start on acquiring sources.  Just
be careful.  If you plan on `stealing' my feeds, make sure you do it
when I'm not around, and don't do it in this tavern.  I know I don't
need to tell you this, but I will anyway: be discreet."
	Silk took a few moments to think things through.  "I propose
that I dispose of merchandise, and that you work acquisitions.  I
think that the easiest way to exchange material will be for you to
continue your guise as a thief in these parts, making drops like we
have always done.  Agreeing on a price for goods could be the
difficult part.  The problem is one of trust or security, however you
wish to view the problem.  On one hand, I can pay you at the time of
the drop.  You would then be sure of your profit, and I would be
speculating on the outcome of my later deals.  The price you would
receive would reflect the size of your cut.  The other way is to split
the price of each piece once I had disposed of it.  I tend to prefer
the former, even though it may pose problems for me later.  It
encourages excellence in both of us.  Even so, the latter scheme would
probably work well while you are getting set up.
	"In the beginning, you will probably need money.  I will
supply you with a reasonable amount until you are established.  Until
then, and until you have paid off the advance, your cut is nix.  You
can pay off the advance with coin or with time.  Your `wage' would
depend in part upon the volume of business you bring in.  After the
advance is paid off, you would receive a fifth-share of the take while
we operate closely.  Once we split and start negotiating prices
instead of splitting the total take, we would aim for a price that
would double your share to two fifths.
	"I think that I will have to continue working both sides of
the street for a while, but if you are right about how people view my
visibility, supply should switch to you naturally."
	"Can you give me some kind of time table?" asked Oglethorpe.
"Also, are we ever going to be looking at a fifty-fifty cut someday?
I mean, to stay competitive you don't want to have us doing much
haggling; it would add yet another middleman to the line."
	"I have no objection to a fifty-fifty split with an equal.
Make it that far, and we'll have another little chat like this.  And I
think that you're right about haggling.  It adds overhead and fosters
mistrust.  The efficient way to do things would be to work together.
I plan to start out that way in the beginning; we'll see how it works
out.  Now then, before you go, one last question: How well do you know
Narts or Rasputan?  Have you had many drops with either of them?"
	"I have had a couple of exchanges with Narts.  Nothing really
notable.  However, I have heard that if you need to get something out
of the Empire, or even Old World in general, he is the man to see.
One thing; I've heard him, drunk, uttering oaths that were not of our
tongue.  Perhaps he has a run to Araby?  Hmm, that makes me think...
have you ever heard of him moving slaves?  That would make the
connection a sure thing.  If you're serious about checking up on him,
you might look into that.  As for Rasputan, I don't know anything
about him.  I guess I've heard that name once or twice before, but
that's about it."
	Silk filed the information away for future reference.  "Well,
that should do it.  I'll see what kind of cash I can put together for
you to get you started.  I'll let you know when its ready."
	Silk made a final round through the tavern and then went home.
It had been a long day.  That night his sleep was filled with dreams
of garrots and jewels.

"William said he would be in touch," muttered the fence to himself.
"Let's just hope that the touch won't be the hilt of a blade...  or
worse."  Silk sat on the edge of bed (or so he prefered to call it)
and rubbed his throat uncomfortably.  With such pleasant thoughts in
his mind, he began to plan the day's events:
	"Lemme see.  I have to scrape together some cash for
Oglethorpe.  Shouldn't take long.  Problem is that it will require
most of what I have just to convince him that I don't need him as
badly as I really do.  That's the easy stuff, though.  I've got to
find out who set me up and fast.  Rasputan looks to be the likeliest
candidate, but if he has strong magic on his side, I could be toast in
short order.  Looney too.  Just what I wanted, another chaos
illusionist."
	Silk's mental ramblings were quickly interrupted by a growl
>from his stomach.  He rose and seized his coat, patting down the
places where he kept his wares to reassure himself of their presence.
After disarming the door, he gripped his walking stick tightly and
left the room to begin the day, immediately setting out for the main
market of Altdorf.  There he would not only find good food, but it was
also the most likely that place to find a mark, er, customer.  He
hoped be able to liquidate some of his holdings without being bled to
death by those vampires in the jewelry stores.
	After obtaining some bread, fruit, and cheese for his meal,
Silk wandered around the marketplace, paying some attention to those
hawking semi-precious goods and to their customers.  He took the time
to look over goods that they were peddling, checking for anything out
of the ordinary, or anything that might actually be worth purchasing,
impossible as that may be.
	The market was business as usual; too many people and nothing
worth buying.  However, after a couple of hours of milling about, Silk
did overhear interesting tidbits of conversation between a hawker of
cheap jewelry and a man who, by appearances, was a moderately
successful artisan.  The latter was apparently inquiring about higher
quality and discount prices.  Disappointed, he was forced to move on.
	Silk followed the artisan discretely, checking him out.  When
his quarry came to a usable spot, Silk bent over, pretending to pick
something up from the street.
	"Sir, is this yours?", asked the fence, flashing a broach.
	After only the slightest hesitation, the man slapped a hand to
his breast, and looked surprised at not finding a broach their.
	"Why yes it is!" he declared, reaching for the broach.  "Thank
you my good man."
	Silk closed his hand on the broach.  "Such a beautiful piece
of decor must be worth at least a hundred crowns," he said in a
quieter voice.
	"Hmmm, it was a gift and I am not aware of its purchase value.
And it seems I have taken it so for granted that I cannot recall its
exact composition.  A reward is understandable, but I must refresh my
memory," replied the artisan with a hint of a smile.
	"'Tis truly a thing of beauty.  It would have been a shame to
lose such a lovely gift," Silk stated as he opened his palm to reveal
the trinket.  He paused and then continued, "If I might make bold to
suggest the amount of compensation, 50 crowns seems not unworthy."
	"Hmmm, why don't you bring it by my shop in about an hour.
I'm a tailor on Straight, just off the Emperor's Highway.  The Gin
Emporium is on the corner; mine is the next shop.  In good faith, you
may keep my broach until then.  At that time perhaps I could study it
further and we could reach some agreement.  And if you happen to find
my necklace, that would be of even more interest to me, I think;
especially if it matched my broach.  Good day, then."  With that the
tailor turned and again entered the crowd.
	"What a stroke of good fortune!" thought Silk.  He passed the
time until the meeting wandering around the market, although all he
found worth purchasing was a brace of apples.  Silk arrived at the
tailor's a few moments before the appropriate time and examined the
layout.  Then he entered the shop.  Up front was a work area that was
arranged somewhat for show; an apprentice sat in each corner,
tailoring away.  Beyond that were many bolts of cloth and three
full-size mirrors.  There was a curtain wall between the two areas,
although the curtains were only pulled halfway; just enough to give
the apprentices a good backdrop without closing off the rest of the
store.  There was a doorway in the back wall with a curtain across it.
	Silk was greeted by the tailor and ushered through the
curtained doorway; the fence noted a real door on the far side,
although, judging by the junk in the way, it apparently stood open all
the time.  Through the doorway was a more serious workroom, plus a
desk, a couple of doors in the back wall, and a staircase leading up.
The window behind the desk was shuttered, but three lanterns sat atop
the desk, illuminating it well.  A small strongbox sat on one end of
the desk.
	"Let's see what all you've found, shall we?" inquired the
tailor as he sat behind the desk.
	"I regret, good sir, that I was unable to find the necklace to
match your broach," Silk explained as he took his seat and set the
broach on the desk.  "However, this pendant is quite striking.  It has
always been a favorite of mine."  He unfolded a piece of black velvet
and held the prize up to the light.  "If you feel that the combination
might be too bold, then you might consider this ring in combination
with either the pendant or the broach."
	The tailor showed little interest in either the broach or the
ring, but seems quite taken with the pendant.  Silk caught a momentary
gleam in the artisan's eye before he put on a mask of indifference.
"I seem to remember this piece," he said as he examined the pendant.
"Now then, about the reward..."
	"But of course.  I think that 75 in gold should be adequate."
	"Hmm, I had a cutting retort all prepared, yet you start off
at a reasonable price.  Less than a gem merchant at least, but still a
bit high.  How about 50 crowns."
	Silk smiled.  "I like to think myself a reasonable man.  Even
so, I was hoping for a bit more than 50...  What say you to splitting
our difference?  I would still be doing you a service at 65."
	"How about a even split, say 63?  That will even give you an
half crown."
	"Agreed.  Might I do you another service in the future?"
	"Unlikely," replied the tailor as he opened the strongbox and
produced a pouch.  Dropping the pouch in front of Silk, he took out
another, opened it, and began counting out more coins.  "Unless you
have another type of service in mind.  Still, if you drop by from time
to time to make use of my services, it is not inconceivable that you
may again catch me in a mood to please my wife.  Ah, thirteen," he
said as he dropped the last coin in front of Silk.  "That, plus the
fifty in the pouch, settles our account."  As he closed the strongbox
and took possession the pendant, adding, "I shall hardly be
disappointed to see you; 'twas a smooth deal."
	Silk scooped loose coins into his own pouch and took a brief
look at the contents of the other pouch.  As things appeared
satisfactory, he doffed his hat saying, "The feeling is mutual.  Until
we meet again."  With that he stood and made his way back to the front
room.
	The tailor followed him through the curtain, calling out, "I
am sorry about the delay, sir.  It is the first time I have failed to
complete an order on time in years.  Please try back next week.  I
assure you there will be no charge."
	Silk nodded and left the store, smiling; he loved the antics
of amateurs.  Twas a smooth deal indeed; Silk had nearly recovered the
value of the pendant, yet it had cost the tailor half what a jeweler
would have charged.  Silk liked making money and he liked making
friends; good business.

Silk gave the streets a quick once-over, looking for Buster and
Oglethorpe.  Not finding either one, he stopped in at O'Malley's to
rejuvenate his strength.  Buster was there, and Oglethorpe hobbled in
while Silk was still order his drink.
	"Wouldn't you know it," thought Silk.  Drink in hand, he took
a seat at Buster's table.  "G'day.  Mind some company?  Ooh, how's the
head?" Noticing that Buster was getting a bit dry, Silk signaled the
bartender to bring another of whatever it was that Buster was
drinking.
	"Murmur, murmur, mumble, mumble..."  was Buster's only reply
to Silk's questions.
	"Heh.  I'm not surprised," said Silk.  Then he cut through the
crap, "You throw most of your stuff Rasputan's way, don't you?  I'm
just curious to know why.  Does he pay better than me, or what?  Mind
you, I'm not trying to muscle in on his business, but I've been
wondering why you work for him, yet spend most of your time hanging
around here."
	"Truth be known," Buster replied in a rather cold fashion.
"You folks around here are slower and dumber than most.  Your purses
tend to dangle free and the strings cut reeeal easy.  Oops," he added
as he nonchalantly knocked over the drink that had just been served to
him.  "So clumsy for a flicher," he added as Silk leaped to his feet
to avoid the flood.
	"Is there something that you want to say, or are you finished
dicking around?" Silk demanded loudly.
	Buster glanced past the fence, carefully set the mug upright,
stood, and walked out the door.  As Silk's eye followed him, he notice
that O'Malley was not polishing a mug, but his stick.
	"What was that all about?" asked the barkeep as Silk wandered
over.
	"Buster exhibiting his usual good manners," replied the fence.
"I don't mind him being rude, but dumping a perfectly good drink like
that is downright immoral.  I do despise waste."  After taking another
pull from his mug, Silk indicated his need for more.  "And draw
yourself one, O'Malley.  I won't have my generosity spoiled by the
likes of him."  Another pull.  "Hmm.  Just got an idea.  I get tired
of going for my purse every time I get thirsty.  How 'bout I pay you
in advance and you just tell me when it runs out?"
	"Suits me," replied O'Malley after downing a pint with one
pull.  "And I don't think you have to worry about Buster's bad manners
for a while, least not in my dive."
	"Good.  Here's two crowns for grub and ale.  Stew smells good
today.  I think I'll have a bowl."
	When the food brought to the bar, Silk took the bowl and his
mug and headed for a table near the back.  As he passed Oglethorpe,
Silk gave his partner a nod.
	"G'dafternoon Oglethorpe.  How are you today?" Finding a table
to himself, Silk sat down and commenced with his supper.
	Oglethorpe lightheartedly limped over and plopped himself
down.  "I'm doing okay," he said with entirely too much chipper.
"You, on the other hand, are another story.  Judging from all your
scampering around in here the last few days, I'd say you have more
oars in the water than you know what to do with.  Careful; if you try
to use them all you'll tire yourself out and not go anywhere."  He
paused to take a drink, then added in a quieter tone, "Or sink."
	"Much as I hate to admit it, you're probably right; now that I
think about it.  That's something that I haven't been doing much of in
the past couple of days: thinking, except about one thing.  I've got
to find out who arranged for my little ride the other day, before they
arrange for another..."  Silk looked at his stew, then forced myself
to take another bite.  "I hope O'Malley never quits brewing beer."
After a few more bites Silk decided he could not handle it on his own.
"I could really use some help with this.  There's only so much I can
find out with my own eye and ears without losing them.  And I could
use someone with brains."  He paused a moment over a troublesome piece
of meat.  "Grissle.  Yum.  Got something for you."
	"Surely you're not refering to the grissle.  I was hoping for
something more clinkish."
	"Oh, that too," Silk replied with a smile.  "Is this
sufficiently private?  If not, I'll join you in back after I have
finished my supper.  You said something about starting small; how
small is small?"
	Oglethorpe just shrugged and rose from the table.  "I'll see
you in the back room."

"I was hoping for a couple hundred crowns.  Considering how I'd like
to start out, that should get me through five or six buys, but I want
to be able to cover a couple of larger ones, should the opportunity
arise."
	"A couple hundred?!?  You planning to give it away?" Silk
buried his head in his hands.  "Sorry about that, I sometimes forget
what it takes to get started.  Truth of the matter is that I can't
spare that kind of gold right now.  I can sell off more of my stock,
but as you pointed out, I'm making a spectacle of myself as it is," he
finished with a sigh.  "So, six buys.  How much time is that?  I can
give you what I've got now: 30 crowns.  That should get you one piece
easily, two if they're small.  I might be able to get more, but I
don't want to hang around the market; too much visibility."
	"I'll take the thirty, but you gotta' move your stock, 'cause
when I start making buys I'm going to be turning the merchandise over
to you, right?  Surely you have a way to move bulk."
	"Yes, I can move bulk, but that cuts into my profits.  Our
profits, I guess.  Profits, right.  Did you have any clients in mind
when you started thinking about taking this up as a career?" Silk
asked, trying not to sound to hopeful.
	"Yes, I had clients in mind.  I gave you a general run down
yesterday, as a matter of fact.  Silk, I think you need to take a
vacation."
	"Okay, okay!  But I can't take a vacation, now can I?!  Gods."
Sigh.  "I remember you talking about who you were going to buy from,
but not who was going to buy from you.  If you give me the names
again, I'll make a round tomorrow, and then dump whatever doesn't sell
itself.  Are you going to be able to do anything with the thirty, or
should I hold on to it?"
	"As for who I was going to sell to, that's the one part I
never really got around to figuring out.  It was next on my list,
though.  I thought you where asking for who I was buying from."
	"I didn't think that I was that far gone.  We've been using
the word `client' in different ways.  I think of those who I sell to
as clients, and you seem to think of those you buy from as clients.  I
guess they're both clients in a sense, just on different sides of the
fence."  Silk tossed his purse to Oglethorpe.  "Here you go.  I think
there's a sixpence in there too.  I'll have enough tomorrow to bring
you up to a hundred.  You should be able to acquire some decent pieces
then.  Once stuff is flowing, increasing your base should be no
problem.  Oh, before you go, would you mind telling me how much this
is worth, and what you would pay for it."
	Oglethorpe studied the ring for a moment, then, "It is worth
sixty, sixty-five crowns.  What would I pay for it?  Twice that from a
jeweler, but if you mean as a fence, twenty crowns, hoping to get
forty out of it at the other end."
	Silk nodded.  "Right.  Now then, we need to meet sometime
tomorrow so that I can get some more cash to you.  Here is nice, but
three days in a row might attract attention.  Is the east bridge okay,
or do you prefer another location?"
	"The bridge will do just fine.  As for time, I got no plans at
the moment; simply name it."
	"See you at sundown."

Silk sat in Jonathon Livingston Steinman's plush office, awaiting the
merchant's verdict on the merchandise.
	Jonathan's brother, Richard, had once occupied this same
house, but had swapped estates with Jonathan the year before; why,
Silk never found out.  A few days before the move, Richard called a
meet with Silk.  The merchant had burned Silk, robbing him of nearly
eight hundred crowns, the largest sum Silk had ever had at one time.
"Nothing personal, my good man," Richard had said as they parted, "But
I could use the extra coinage to help in the move."  The next night
Silk, along with a few acquaintances, had infiltrated this vary house,
pulled Richard from his bed, and dumped him in the river; sink or
swim, the gods could decide.  Silk had also collected what was due
him.  "Nothing personal," Silk had explained.  "But I can't have my
rep ruined like that, now can I?"
	Knowing good business sense when he saw it, Jonathon's first
move upon reaching town was to make contact and peace with Silk.
Since then, the two had been good for each other.
	"Hmmm, I make the total value of all five pieces to be 330
crowns.  I'll give you 150 for the works."
	Steinman had an excellent eye.  He also was not much on
negotiation, but it was worth a try.  "150?  Let's try a different
combination.  I'll keep the gem and the chain; they might be useful
for bribes.  That leaves you with the necklace, broach, and ring.
Given your previous offer, that scales down to, um, 110."
	"100 even."
	"I hate going to another fence," thought Silk.  "Deal."

Later that day two rogues met on the bridge.
	"Ah, sir Oglethorpe," Silk called to his partner.  "I have
something I believe you will be interesting in.  'Tis a book of
considerable enlightenment, 'though 'tis nearly a hundred pages in
length," Silk explained as he handed Oglethorpe a small, flat bundle
of carefully wrapped coins.  "Enjoy."


						Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Mon Nov 26 21:18:09 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (iii)
Keywords: Night Life
Date: 26 Nov 90 20:09:32 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC



				Night Life


"Oglethorpe was right, I do need some rest," Silk sighed to himself.
"Two days and nothing.  I can feel the garrot already."  He swallowed
hard as he tromped down the alley that led to his apartment.
	Kachunk!
	The bolt, coming from above and behind him, buzzed past Silk's
head.
	Kachunk!  Kachunk!
	Silk staggered forward as a bolt slammed into his back.
Warmth spread through his back; a heat that hovered between pleasure
and pain.  As he regained his balance he heard someone drop from a
roof into the alley behind him.  His eye, however, was occupied with
two shadows moving towards him from up the alley; between him and
home.  The shadows blurred a bit as he heard a second assailant join
the first behind him.
	Silk touched both studs on his walking stick.  As three small
blades on the side of the stick sprang from hiding and a larger one
lanced out from the end, Silk charged straight ahead, swinging the
staff in a murderous rage.  He caught his assailants' off guard,
slamming his walking stick into the first attacker's right arm,
burying one of the smaller blades.  Ripping it free with a vicious
twist, he then plunged the front blade into the wounded man's abdomen.
Even as the footpad fell, his partner set upon Silk with cloak and
club.
	As Silk warded off the blows, and footsteps bore down on him
>from behind, he suddenly realized the extent of his wound; warmth
turned to fire as pain burned through him.  Silk pressed forward,
trying to win past the footpad in front of him.  A quick thrust with
the point of his walking stick drew blood, but Silk's leg was struck
by the club mid-charge.  Toppling, he crashed into his assailant and
both men went down.  In the scuffle, the quarrel in Silk's back was
bumped.  Screaming in pain, he managed to scramble free just as a club
whistled by him and slammed into the gut of the footpad on the ground.
Amid the cursing and confusion, Silk tried to flee, but he could hear
a footpad overtaking him.
	Suddenly more shadows arose in his path, and a crossbow was
leveled at him.  Silk threw himself to the ground.
	Kachunk!
	The bolt whistled overhead as the footpad pursuing Silk
tripped over him and went down.
	Kachunk! Kachunk! came from ahead.  Oaths of considerable
volume, if not binding, came from behind.
	"Owl!  Chigger's still on the roof!  Snipe him!  Come on,
lads!" came the cry from ahead.  Footfalls charged Silk from in front
and behind.
	"Eight?" thought Silk as grabbed a handful of dirt and
scrambled to his feet.  "Six would have been plenty."  The footpad who
had tripped over Silk had already gained his feet, so Silk cast the
dirt at his face; or rather, he realized too late, the back of his
head.  The dirt had an amazing affect; the man's head snapped
backwards, towards Silk, and the footpad stumbled.  Catching himself,
the footpad raised his club and he swung at a target in front of him.
	Ignoring that battle, Silk turned just in time to dodge a
blow.  Somewhere overhead the discharge of a crossbow was closely
followed by the scream of pain.
	"Dammit Silk!  Get over here!  Smash, grab him!"
	Hoping beyond hope that he was about to be rescued, Silk
backed away from the thugs in front of him, twisting his weapon back
and forth suggestively, ready to parry any attack.
	Movement flickered on his left.  A quick glance revealed a
masked attacker swinging a club.  The weapon was not aimed at Silk,
but landed with a bone-chrunching wump on the man at his back.  As the
footpad fell, Silk's savior latched onto the fence's arm.
	"Come on!"
	Silk was dragged up the alley as two more footpads fell in
behind him, facing the would-be murderers.  "Owl, let's hear that
crossbow!" one of the pair called out.  Then Silk blacked out.
	He came to as he was pulled to his feet.  "Where are we...
where did you..."
	He was dragged past his apartment, around another corner, and
soon onto a main street.  Two footpads helped him along while two
others followed with loaded crossbows.  On the street, they paused
under a lantern long enough to pull out the quarrel.  Silk passed out.
	"Silk!"  Silk came to as a footpad slapped him repeatedly in
the face.  "Come on, Silk, this ain't no time to be timid.  You got a
big hole in your back and you're breathing blood.  You want us to get
you to a cutter?  There's one close we can trust.  Come on, Silk!
We've run into Chigger and his boys before.  They wouldn't have come
near us just to find a mark; they were after you.  We got to get you
off the street!"
	Silk's eye cleared enough to show him that Bash was the one
making the speech.
	Bash.  Footpads.  Leader.
	"Cutter?  Yes.  Please.  Quickly."
	They hustled Silk into another alley, around a few turns, then
to a door just off the street.  Banging on the door eventually
resulted in muttering on the other side.  Bash said a few words
through the door and it is soon opened.  A servant with a lantern
hurried off and soon returned supporting the surgeon, who was glaring
about at imaginary points of light.  Eventually he gathered his senses
enough to take Silk's head in his hands, look into Silk's good eye,
then lift his eye patch.
	"Too far gone.  I can't do anything about that."
	"No, doc, it's his back, not his eye.  He took a bolt in the
back."
	"Well why didn't you say so?  Strip him to the waist and put
him down on that table."  The physician went about collecting various
odds and ends as Bash and Crash got Silk into position.  "Sunter, pass
us that bottle."  The servant handed over a bottle, which the
physician promptly uncorked and jug-a-lugged.  Coughing and hacking,
he recorked the bottle.  "Alright, I'm awake!" Cough, cough.  "I'm
awake!" The physician gagged and coughed some more, then stared across
the room at Silk.  "So, is this your first child?"
	"Sir, that was this morning," Sunter told his master without
seeming too shocked.
	"Oh gods, is it bedtime already?"
	Eventually Sunter got the doctor into place.
	"This might..."
	"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"
	"...hurt a bit.  Hmmm, I thought I had some finer thread than
this.  Oh well; Sunter, hand me that needle.  No, no, the bigger one."


						Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Mon Dec  3 15:25:37 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (iv)
Keywords: healing, a bedroll, and prose
Date: 3 Dec 90 07:01:31 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC



			Healing, a Bedroll, and Prose


"There were a lot of splinters I had to take out, which made things
worse.  I'm afraid you'll be out for a while.  If you stay here I
think I can have you moving about in a couple of days, but it'll be
sore for a few weeks.  Well, Sunter will get you tucked in and discuss
financial arrangements."  With that the surgeon went back to bed.
	"Five crowns for the late night treatment, plus three for
spending the night.  After that you become a regular patient at three
crowns a day.  Shave and a haircut is two shillings," Sunter
explained.
	On Silk's instructions, Smash went through Silk's purse and
paid the servant eight crowns.  Sunter left without another word.
	"Don't worry.  I'll have one of the boys stay with you," Bash
assured Silk.  "You want us to get you to a healer tomorrow, or what?"
	"I would be much obliged for the bodyguard, and if you know a
healer that is discreet, we can go there in the morning.  Otherwise,
might as well stay here to recover, but only if doc promises not to
work on me again..."
	Bash nodded, then, "So, you got any idea what's going on?  We
was just out cruising, no particular mark in mind, when Owl spotted
the crossbowmen on the roof.  I sent him off to investigate and he
tells me it's Chigger and four of his boys.  They had three high and
two low.  It was obvious they were waiting for something in
particular.  See, we gave Chigger what's for a long time ago.  I mean,
I'll let some solos float through, but I don't want no gangs on my
turf.  I didn't think he'd ever dare to show his face around here
again.  Anyways, so we figured we'd watch him and see if we couldn't
spoil things.  Naturally, when Owl told me it was you they's after we
came right in, although if you hadn't taken that bolt I think I
would've let you handle it.  You gutted one and bloodied another, all
with a span of lumber in your back.  And you always use us for muscle!
For a little guy you sure can fight."  Bash paused for a moment.  "So,
like, you need us to make a hit, or something?"
	Silk bent forward with his head in his hands, and let go an
ouch as the stitches in his back tightened.  "Does one of you have my
walking stick?  I'll be wanting that for later."  Silk tried to find a
more comfortable position.  "Yes, I have a pretty good idea what's
going down.  This is the second time someone has tried to hit me in
the last week.  The first was much more subtle.  Four days ago,
someone scooped one of the big hats in the import/export business.
Made a big haul.  The merchant's wife saw the culprit.  Said it was
me.  Almost got croaked before convincing the man that it wasn't my
style, and that I was smarter than to try something like that.  He
gave me the chance to clear myself; not so much because he wanted to
give me a chance, but mostly because he wants to take out whoever
visited him.  So, I'm the bait in the trap," Silk finished with a sigh
that turned into a cough.
	"As for killing someone, that time may soon come.  When I find
out who's behind this, I'll want you with me.  Hmm, where is Chigger's
turf?  I don't have any beef with him, so someone must have hired him
to come out here.  I figure it was someone in his neighborhood."
	"Don't know where Chigger hangs out now," Bash shrugged.  "You
boys?"
	"Last I heard he was up by the university, beating up
students," Owl answered.
	"That fits," Silk said with a nod.  "Okay, tomorrow morning,
early, I'll go to the temple of Shallya.  I'd like a hooded cloak, if
you could manage it.  I think that my coat is a bit too distinctive,
what with all the blood.  If you don't have a cloak that will fit me,
then be resourceful."

The next morning Bash entered the infirmary with a cloak and hood, as
well as a shirt.
	"What's this stain inside the hood?" Silk asked as he was
trying it for size.
	"You going to stand their nit picking or are you going to get
healed?"
	Silk dressed and, accompanied by Bash, stepped into the alley.
"Not too fast, now.  I still have a rather painful knot on my leg,"
Silk said as they started for the temple.  "I didn't ask for your help
last night, but I am very glad for it.  However, I am still in need of
some assistance.  If you or a couple of the lads could spare some time
during the next couple of days and give me a place to hide and heal, I
would be much obliged."  Silk finished by clinking ten crowns in his
hand and giving them to Bash.
	"No problem," Bash said.  "You've always given us easy work at
good pay.  Better than that, when we're working for you, we're not
knocking heads; the fewer heads we knock, the safer people feel.  You
know what I mean?"
	At the temple, a priestess took Silk aside.  After examining
his wounds she inquired as to the type of ministering he needed;
magical or mundane.
	"Magical," Silk answered, nearly swallowing on the word.
	The priestess engaged Silk in some rapid conversation.  She
was obviously quite practiced at it; before Silk realized exactly what
he had said, she had a pretty good idea as to his resources.
	"Forty crowns will allow you to walk out of here with your
body repaired of all damage, although there might be a twinge or two.
If you do not have the coinage with you, I will agree to heal you if
you will agree to bring a donation of at least forty crowns to the
temple by tomorrow evening."
	"Lady, I do not have forty crowns on my person.  However, I
value this chain at thirty crowns, and have coin to bring the sum to
forty.  If you do not find the chain worthy, I will do what I can to
bring a donation here by tomorrow evening."  Silk removed the platinum
braid from around his neck, and held it out for her to examine, meekly
awaiting for her reply.  The priestess did not even bother looking at
the chain.
	"I'll take the ten now and await the rest tomorrow."
	That agreed upon, she gathered a few things, said a few
prayers, and wove her spell.  As she had promised, Silk felt fine
except for a slight pull and occasional twinge of pain.  She assured
him that it would be gone in a day or two.
	Silk paid over the ten crowns, thanked the priestess and the
grace of Shallya, and promised to return by sundown the next day.
Stepping out of the room, he donned the hood and located Bash.  "Lead
on."

"So what all do you need?" Bashed asked when they were settled in to
the footpads' hole-in-the-wall lodgings.
	"First thing, I need some cash to pay off the healer.  Take
this gem to a man named Oglethorpe.  He owes me a favor, and should
give you a reasonable sum for it.  Tell him that you got his name from
a half-blind man who was near death.  He is the only one that should
be told that I am still alive.  You can find him at my usual haunt."
Silk handed the gem to Bash.  "Next thing, I strongly suspect that
Rasputan is behind the events of the last couple of days.  I need
someone to locate him, and preferably keep an eye on him.  He works
near the university and the Emperor's Way.  I know it's Chigger's
turf.  Be careful, he's probably not happy at the outcome of last
night's scuffle.  Rasputan's been acting paranoid lately, or so I've
heard.  Whoever goes should probably have something to drop, in case
they should come face-to-face with him.  I can supply something when
the time comes."  Silk yawned and stretched.  "The rest will keep for
a while.  Right now I need some rest."
	As Bash turned to leave, Silk asked, "Could you bring some
fruit or something with you when you return?  I don't want to go out
again until tomorrow morning."
	When Bash returned he had fruit, a few sweet meats, fifty
crowns from Oglethorpe, plus Owl and Crash.  Crash was to keep Silk
company.  Owl was to ferret out Rasputan.  Bash had also brought a
small pot of a rather potent wine.  "It is best to mix it a bit, but I
thought you might want it straight.  It'll definitely help you rest.
Oh, Oglethorpe says that, although he hasn't quite finished the book,
he can return it if you'll be needing it.  O'Malley's Place was filled
with interesting speculation.  It seems that the man you gutted last
night was left behind.  He was found this morning by a patron of the
tavern.  Since no one has seen you since yesterday, and the body was
found near your place with plenty of other blood..."  Bash finished
with a shrug.  "Oh yeah, one more thing.  There was a well dressed man
hanging around O'Malley's.  He seemed intensely interested in the
stories.  Oglethorpe told me to tell you he had been inquiring after
you before the stories really got started.  Claimed you were expecting
him."
	During the account Silk had been busy reducing the fruit to a
pile of rinds, stems, and seeds, occasionally muttering and nodding.
	"Thanks, Bash.  I'd call you a prince if I knew that it
wouldn't offend you.  I'm glad that Oglethorpe has his wits about him.
They may be all that he has to rely on before all of this is over.
The other man that you saw, the well-dressed one, is known to me.  His
name is William the Sharp.  Dangerous, very dangerous.  I don't think
that he bears me any ill-will at this point, but I'm not ready to
stake my life on that, something that I would certainly be doing.  If
he's anywhere as good as I suspect, he'll find his way here.  If that
happens, whoever is here with me should stay his hand until we know
what his game is."  Silk gave Crash a meaningful look.  "Owl, you've
drawn the more exciting task.  I need to know where Rasputan hangs
out, and where he sleeps.  The easiest way to find him and get close
to him is to proffer some goods.  Here.."  Silk took off the chain and
handed it to Owl.  "If you need to sell it, go ahead and do so.  You
should get be able to get ten for it.  Good luck."
	As Owl left the apartment, Silk tossed down some of the wine.
"You weren't kidding about this stuff.  I'll be in dreamland in no
time."  Reducing his intake to sips, he continued, "I suspect that
there will be a couple of visits to my place today or tonight.
William will almost certainly stop in.  As for others, who can say?
Could you or Smash keep your eyes on it tonight?"
	"Smash," Bash said with a nod towards the door.  Smash left
immediately.
	Silk was thoroughly enjoying his drink by this time.  "Umm,
that should about do it.  Any questions?"
	Bash shook his head.  "Crash will be here with you, but I have
some matters to attend to.  So if that's it, g'day."

Later that night, Crash answered the door.  Owl burst into the room
and leveled a loaded crossbow at Silk.
	"Don't move!" Owl ordered.  "Crash, has he been here all
night?"
	"Yeah.  What's up?"
	"And you were with him?"
	"Of course."
	Owl moved closer and looked Silk over.  "Breathing is normal
and no sweat."  The same could not be said for Owl.  "Okay, now all
you have to do is convince me that you are the Silk that is on our
side.  I just saw you meet with Rasputan."
	At that moment Bash walked in the door.  Owl explained the
situation to him.
	"Well?" Bash asked of Silk.
	"I seem to remember going through this once before.  It was
not pleasant last time, and I suspect that the same will be true of
this ordeal."  Silk took a deep breath.  "What's it going to take?  A
list of jobs I've hired you for?  Goods I've moved for you?" He heaved
another sigh of dispair.  "No, you want me to prove that I'm on your
side.  That's different.  You can devise any tests that you want, and
I'm willing take them, but even then you won't really know if I'm on
your side or not.  At least, not until this is all over."  He paused
for a moment, then, "Owl, was the man that you saw with Rasputan
wearing a coat or a cloak?"
	Owl frowned a bit, thinking.  Suddenly he relaxed and pointed
the crossbow towards the ceiling.  "He was wearing a coat."  As he
unloaded the crossbow he continued, "Your coat.  The one we left at
the barbers.
	Silk's sigh of relief was echoed by the others.
	"Silk," Owl continued, "This guy was you in every detail I
could make out in the dark, and you know I deserve my name."
	Silk nodded.  "I don't doubt you for moment, Owl.  As I said,
I went through this once before.  So, he doesn't know everything.
That at least is encouraging.  As for him looking like me, we'll have
to do something about that.  I'll continue to wear the cloak.  In case
I lose the cloak, I will also wear a sash.  That should be enough for
you to recognize in the dark.  Wait a moment.  Crash, how much coinage
do you have on you right now?  I mean exactly."
	Crash looked a bit puzzled.  "Well, I've got the two crowns
Bash gave me for last night, plus...  let's see...  3 shillings, 9
pence.  Why?"
	"I don't know what this imposter knows and what he doesn't,
Crash.  I just wanted there to be something that we both could be
certain of."
	"Oh," Owl added, "If it is of any interest to anyone, I found
out where Chigger is healing up at."  Owl turned to Silk with a smile,
"I buried one in the meat of his leg last night during the fight."
	"If you guys want to go out and make Chigger uncomfortable, by
all means, don't let me spoil your fun.  You've earned it.  If you do
pay him a visit, please make it clear that the bolt got the lung, and
I drowned in my own blood.  See how much he got for the job, and from
whom.  Other than that, have a good time."
	"If you want us to pay Chigger a visit we will," Bash said
coolly.  "But it is not appropriate to kill opponents when you've
already put them in their place; people are less likely to let you
live when you're the one on the other end of the crossbow.  Chigger
will nurse his hatred; however, he won't do anything about it.  He
will allow revenge to temper any future encounters, but such is life.
That is how we play the game in these alleys, Silk.  Even we have
rules, and the vast majority of us abide by them."  Bash thought for a
bit, then smiled.  "However, gathering information is an excellent
excuse for a raid...  if we were so instructed."
	"Hell, Bash, I wasn't telling you to go kill him.  And the
information would be useful...  Make sure he gets the idea that I'm
dead and that you're looking for the goon who hired him."  Silk
thought for a moment, then smiled himself.  "Pretend that William sent
you."
	Smash burst through the door, barely allowing Crash the luxury
of unbarring it first.  Silk scrambled for his walking stick.
	"Silk's building was just firebombed!"
	"Damn!  That was a nice location!  And my good clothes were
still there, too.  Someone is obviously trying to eliminate all traces
of my presence in this city, and doing a good job of it.  Did you see
the dog who did it?"
	"Sort of.  He was a pretty big guy, but that's all I know.  He
was wearing a large overcoat and a big hat."
	"You want us to go after Chigger now?" Bash asked.
	"It'll take the four of us," Owl added.
	"Go ahead.  I should be fine, as long as nobody followed you
back here.  Do you still have my chain, Owl?  I'd kind of like to have
it back."

"Well, that worked out amazingly well."
	Bash was washing up at the basin while Owl examined a
half-dozen quarrels he seemed apparently picked up in the raid.
Meanwhile, Crash was checking a newly acquired bedroll for fleas;
"Didn't think you'd care to sleep wrapped in your cloak," he explained
to Silk with a smile.  "'Sides, I don't think Chigger will be getting
too much sleep tonight."  Smash, on the other hand, was already
asleep.
	"He knows you're alive," Bash began after silencing Crash with
a wave, "Which isn't good.  He did give us the location of Rasputan's
townhouse, which is good.  He agreed that Rasputan has been freaking
of late; he thinks it's zip.  Doesn't know why the man has taken a
dislike to you.  Doesn't know anything about any fire.  Turns out that
Rasputan ruled the gang in which Chigger got his start, which I
personally found to be interesting.  When the gang scattered, Rasputan
took to selling insurance to some merchants with very fragile
merchandise.  Now a'days it seems that he is just a strong arm fence,
if you could imagine such a thing.  And doing very well, if he
actually owns that house, wouldn't you say?"
	"Very interesting.  Thank you, boys.  And thanks for the
bedroll.  I do appreciate the thought.  Good work!  Go ahead and bed
down.  I plan to be awake for a while, pondering this information.  In
the morning I need to take care of some unfinished business at the
healers."

Early in the morning, Silk woke Smash.
	"Care to accompany me to the temple of Shallya?"
	At the temple Silk expressed his appreciation to the priestess
for her patience and to Shallya for her mercy.  He also contributed
another thirty crowns to the goddess of mercy.  But as he left the
temple his ears caught a bit of verse.
	"Yea, even the rogue, caught in a moment of despair, doth cry
out to the gods, 'mercy!'"
	Silk cast his eye sideways to see what kind of fool would be
spouting off such nonsense at this time of the morning.  There,
standing as a statue, was William the Sharp, one hand raised to the
sky as he recited the prose.  Suddenly he turned his head and winked
at Silk.
	"You know," William said in a philosophical manner, "I've
often wondered if that line, in all its truth, does not provide some
insight into man.  Care for a walk in the park?"
	William appeared to be goonless, but Silk noticed that the
vagabond had not lost his fondness for firearms.
	"Oh, uh, hmm.  Good morning William.  A walk in the park?
What would you say to grabbing some breakfast on the way?  Oh, this is
Smash.  Smash, this is William the Sharp.  You don't mind if Smash
follows along, do you?"
	"Smash.  How quaint.  Occupational nickname I take it?  Never
put much stock in acquisitions through force, myself.  Breakfast?
Yes, there is a bakery near the park.  I'll treat."
	"Very well.  I was pretty sure that you'd find me.  Didn't see
much point in making it too easy though.  You been hanging out here
long?"
	William ignored the question and continued in his flippant
oration, "So, now I find myself asking, 'is someone trying to kill
Silk or is Silk just trying to make it look that way.' I've been
leaning towards the latter; however, the pretty young lass inside the
temple said that you'd been wounded in the middle of the back, left
side.  If you were going to have yourself shot, that would be a poor
selection for a wound site."  William paused to insert a theatrical
sigh.  "I'm afraid I find myself believing in you more and more.  So
tell me, what have you been up to?  Found any jewels?"
	"Jewels?  No, nothing that would be worthy of your employer's
interest.  Actually, I have been rather distracted during the
interim."  Silk filled William in on the ambush in the alley, and of
Owl's scouting reports while they selected from some fresh breads.
"So, for the most part, I have been trying to plan my next move.  I
think that I'm nearly ready to go.  Interested in a little freelance
work?" Silk asked with mischievous smile.
	"Freelance?  No, I'm not allowed.  However, do you think our
enemies are one and the same?  If so, I might be able to help you out.
What is your plan?"
	"I believe that we do have a common enemy.  My double is
certainly the one who violated your master's home, and is probably
almost certainly the one responsible for my discomfort over the past
few days.  He or Rasputan, at this point I don't much care which.
However, of the two, Rasputan is easier to locate, and I suspect that
where we find one, we will find the other.  I was thinking of helping
Rasputan wake up tomorrow morning.  You are quite welcome to come
along."
	"Thanks, but I think I'll pass."
	"Suit yourself.  While you're here I would like to know what
your goals are, and what its going to take to get you and your master
out of my life.  No offense intended, but I will sleep much easier
knowing that our paths were not likely to cross again after this
matter is settled.  And I do plan to settle it, one way or another."
	"My goals are to avenge my employer and to return his wife's
jewels, in that order.  Even if he was absolutely sure that you were
not involved in the affair, we would not let you go.  You are an
obvious connection to the thief and we have no intention of losing our
best lead."
	"You misunderstand me, William.  I am resigned to working with
you for now.  I was thinking of the future; I am somewhat of an
optimist when it comes to that subject."
	"I find that to be healthy habit when taken in moderation,"
William replied.  "Now then, if you will let me in on what exactly
your plan is, I might be able to direct you to various useful people."
	"As I see it, I have two choices.  I can try to track down my
double and bury him.  That would leave the world with one Silk, which
is the way I like it.  However, I suspect that my double is of a
magical nature, and arcane creations make me uneasy.  My other choice
is to deal with Rasputan, whom I believe to be the cause of my
problems.  At least he is flesh and blood, and I have some idea of
what will and will not work against him.  My information has it that
it will not be an easy fight.  And I would like to avoid killing him
just long enough to get some answers out of him.  Alas, I feel that I
shall have to deal with both of these problems eventually.  Well, if
you have know of some dependable muscle that can move early in the
morning, I would consider that to be useful.
	"Hmmm.  Are you looking for a trouble causer or a trouble
shooter.  The latter is considerably more expensive, but her skills
sometimes border on magical.  Quite something to watch, really.  You
know, if the jewels are returned as a result of all this, I could
probably get my employer to cover the expense."
	"Trouble shooter?  I assume you mean the kind that locates the
trouble and then shoots it.  Or did you have something more subtle in
mind?"
	"Well, the one I have in mind isn't much on shooting; however,
suffice it to say that, if you hire her when you have trouble, you
won't have any when she's done.  To tell you the truth, though, I
think your fight is a little...  hmmm, how should I put it?..
insignificant for her.  Perhaps I should just direct you to the
trouble causer."
	"Trouble causer?  That doesn't sound encouraging, but I
suppose it can't be any worse than Ardak was.  Please tell me more."
	"You want trouble caused, you hire him to do it.  Professional
bully if you will."
	"Got it.  Doesn't quite sound like what I'm after now, but he
may be useful later.  Where do I find him?"
	"Well, he pretty much floats the city, although the Rat's Nest
is his most common haunt.  His name is Freedman; no hair, all muscle
and scars."
	Silk swallowed hard.  The Rat's Nest was downside; way down
side.  "You get around.  Just a couple of other things, William.
Where can I find you should the need arise?  And what is the name of
your boss, anyway?"
	"Just leave a message at the side gate of the house.  If I'm
home they will fetch me.  If not, they'll see to it that get the
message as soon as I get back.  The head of the estate is Georing,
Fredrick Georing.
	"I shall do that.  Well, I should be getting back before the
others decide to come looking for me.  Thank you for breakfast.  And
if you catch word of who torched my place, please let me know.  I have
a score to settle."
	Silk collared Smash and headed back to the apartment.
	"Well, at least he didn't blow my brains out," Silk muttered.
"This time.  Does everybody know that I'm still alive?  It's getting
to the point that a guy can't sneak around the city without someone
getting nosey..."


						Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Fri Dec 14 22:58:20 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (v)
Keywords: negotiations
Date: 14 Dec 90 20:20:10 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC


				Negotiations


"I have decided that it is time to take the fight to the enemy instead
of sitting here waiting for them to bring it to us.  If you guys are
up to it, I want to raid Rasputan's place tomorrow before dawn.  I aim
going to put a stop to these attempts on my life.  I am also not very
happy about my place being torched.  I plan to repay the favor after
we are done there.  Have any of you been by the townhouse?  Are we
going to need anything to get in?"
	Bash had apparently taken his own look at Rasputan's abode.
"It is a three story job; real skinny and real long.  There is an
narrow alley down one side, but the other is butted up against its
neighbor; so much for the torch.  You know anyone who does explosives?
Anyway, the doors look pretty tough.  If you want to get in quiet, I
think you're going to have to bring in a second story man to open the
door for you.  As for manpower, I don't know what he has in there.
How early are you planning on hitting it?  That'll make a difference
for us."
	"Gods.  You make the place sound like a fortress.  Probably
is, with the way he's been acting.  Any chance that there is a vacant
place next to the building?  If I'm going to hit the place, I'm going
to need to know more about who goes in, and who comes out.  And I am
curious as to how the time affects you guys.  Do you not like to be up
early?"
	"If we're going to hit a house, I want it to be dark."
	"I see.  Well, I want some more information on Rasputan and
his home.  Need someone to take care of that.  Myself, I'm going to
try to flush out my double.  Any of you care to take a walk with me
downside to the Rat's Nest?  I hear there's a guy who hangs out there
who would be good for the job."
	"I'll go with you," Bash replied.  "Owl, take Smash and Crash
on a little recon work."

On there way to the Rat's Nest, Silk explained his plan to Bash.  "I
was just thinking that it might not be a bad idea to soften up the
opponent a bit.  My double has performed deeds that are not socially
acceptable, knowing that I would get blamed.  I plan to see that the
tables get turned around a bit.  It should be a simple matter get
someone to pose as an angry customer looking for a refund; someone who
would prefer to take part of the refund in blood.  If my double gets
it bad enough, who can say?  Anyway, William gave me the name of one
who sounds like he might be right for the job."
	Silk and Bash were well received in the Rat's Nest; almost
>from his first words Silk had the barkeep and a couple of the
customers in stitches.  Wiping his eyes, one of the yokels went off ot
find Jubal.  While Silk waited, the barkeep filled him in on Jubal's
story.
	Jubal was a pit fighter, a very good pit fighter.  So good, in
fact, that he had won his freedom.  However, Jubal liked to hurt
people, so he continued to fight in the pit.  He sold his muscle
because, quite frankly, fighting once a week was not often enough for
him; that, and the money was good.
	The yokel soon returned with the ugliest mass of scars Silk
had ever seen; Jubal Freedman, better known in these parts as Jubal
the Ugly, even to his face.
	"I have a business proposition for you, Mister Freedman.  Care
for a drink while we discuss it?"
	Jubal nodded and Silk led him to a table as Bash brought along
three pints of grog.
	"A problem in my family has gotten out of hand," Silk
explained to Jubal by way of lying.  "My brother has apparently
cheated some very powerful people out of a sizable chunk of their
fortunes.  Nothing wrong with that, in my eyes, but he has cast the
blame on me, which has put in a very uncomfortable position in a
number of ways.  He thinks that he is quite clever.  I think that he
has underestimated my anger.  I would like you to pay my brother a
visit and break a few of his bones.  Unfortunately, I do not know of
his exact whereabouts.  He can sometimes be found around the
university and that stretch of the Emperor's Highway, sometimes in the
company of one Rasputan.  He is my twin, and has dressed himself to
look like me to the last detail.  You'll know him when you see him.
Of course I will compensate you for your time and effort.  What do you
say?"
	Jubal furrowed his brow for a bit, trying to remember all the
words.  He pondered at them at length before speaking for the first
time.  "Ah, now I see the problem.  What happens if I beat up you?"
	"Yes, that would be a problem.  I don't want to be beaten up.
I want my brother beaten up.  Hmm.  How does this sound; if you see me
or my brother anywhere north of the river, go to it.  If I have to go
north of the river, then I take my chances."
	"North," Jubal said slowly, thinking.  "Other side.  Oh, okay,
that's simple enough.  Now then, five crowns to rough him up, ten for
him to hurt for a couple of days.  For fifteen I'll crack a few ribs.
You said broken bones; that's twenty, twenty-five, depending on how
many you want broken.  The neck costs you fifty.  Now then, how much
are you going to pay and when do you want it done?  By the way,
payment is in advance.  Oh, you're not from a family or anything, are
you?  That doubles the price, at the least."
	"What do you mean?  You give family discounts or something?"
	Jubal burst out laughing, and continued to do so for quite
some time.  "No, no," he said, shedding a tear.  "If the guy you want
hurt is connected, the price goes up."
	"No, nothing like that," Silk said impatiently and with some
alarm; Jubal was slow, but his mind covered all the possibilities; a
very dangerous man.  "Tell you what.  I'll give you fifteen now, and
if you lay into him real good, I'll have another ten brought around.
Can you do it tomorrow afternoon?"
	"That's not the way the game is played, but..."  And there he
sat for a long time, not responding to any outside stimuli except the
taste of his drink.  "Ah, there it is.  You said he hangs around the
university.  You said you want it done tomorrow afternoon.  You want
it done tomorrow afternoon, you'd better give me a more specific
local.  However, if you want it all to hinge on me finding him, I'll
be happy to work on a half now, half later, no refund basis."
	Silk counted out some coins onto the table.  "Here's fifteen.
If you will be here at noon tomorrow one of my friends or myself will
tell you were to find my brother and give you an additional ten
crowns.  If you are here for an hour and nobody tells you where to
find him, do your best.  If you don't find him by sundown then you can
keep the gold, but you'll miss the fun."
	Jubal was silent for a few moments, then, "Da', okay.  But
only if you buy me another drink."
	"You drive a hard bargain," Silk said as his motioned for the
bartender to bring another tankard for Jubal.  Silk then excused
himself and Bash.
	"Come on, Bash.  Let's make some tracks.  This area always
gives me the willies."  Silk headed for O'Malley's, with Bash tagging
along.  Oglethorpe was there and, judging by the way he was sighing
and staring into his beer, he was apparently waiting for Silk.
Cloaked and hooded, Silk approached him.  "Shall we walk, or would you
like to go somewhere and sit down?"
	"The back room not good enough?  I'd much rather sit."
	"I suppose the back room will do."  Silk followed him in back.
Once there he caught Oglethorpe up on the events to date.  "Sorry I've
been out of touch for so long.  I am currently planning to take out
both Rasputan and my double tomorrow, if that is possible.  I've hired
a man who should do a good job of beating the tar out of my double.
However, in order to get at Rasputan, I will need some help.  We have
located his home and are currently checking it out in more detail.  We
hope to hit it the morning after next.  We need a good second story
man to get us in.  Who do you know that would be up for the job?  And
please tell me if you have any better ideas.  Sometimes you are able
to see things better than me."
	"Terrence is pretty good.  I also know of an elf that is
supposed to be real good; has to be for an elf to get away with it.
As for plans, if you tell me what you have in mind I might be able to
come up with something."
	"The plan so far is to have a thug break a few of my double's
bones, then hit Rasputan's townhouse that night.  The second story man
will let us into the place.  We will then take Rasputan and attempt to
find out why he's got it in for me.  If he doesn't want to talk to me,
he won't talk to anyone again.  Oh, `we' means myself, Bash, and his
lads.  Now then, I know that Terrence has no love for Rasputan, but
has had some dealings with him.  He would be useful if he was
interested in helping.  Even so, he's somewhat of a hothead and not
great at keeping his mouth shut."  Silk turned to Bash.  "Would you
care if an elf did the job?"
	Bash shook his head.  "Your gold, your choice."
	"Sounds like a good sketch," Oglethorpe said thoughtfully.
"But tell me, how are you planning on getting the thug and your double
together?"
	"He was last seen hanging around with Rasputan.  I suspect
that we should be able to pick him up again.  Bash has two men
scouting the area around Rasputan's for a place to keep an eye on
Rasputan.  If we are lucky and find such a place, it shouldn't be as
difficult to spy out the surrounding region.  Unfortunately, a lot
depends on my double showing up again," Silk finished with a sigh.
	"I'm afraid that I'll need some more cash as well," he said
after a moment's silence.  "I hope that we can get this cleared up
soon so that we can get back to business.  Speaking of which, how have
you been doing?"
	Oglethorpe showed Silk a silver and gold braided necklace.
"Paid fifteen for it."  As Silk examined the necklace, Oglethorpe
continued, "I can give you forty crowns or so, but that's about the
last of it."
	As Oglethorpe spoke, Silk nodded.  "Nice," he said of the
necklace when his partner had finished; Silk estimated the necklace to
be worth sixty crowns.  "I need gold for the second story man.  Hmm,
how much?  Depends on how interested he is in picking up a blade, I
guess.  If you give me twenty, I shouldn't need to bother you for
more.  And tell me where to find the elf.  I'll probably use Terrence,
but I'd like to know; just in case."
	Oglethorpe began counting gold.  "The elf's name is
Shadowchaser.  Don't laugh, you should hear his real name; and, no, I
can't pronounce it.  Anyway, he hangs out at the Tree and Leaf.
That's a tavern on the other side of the emperor's palace.  Lots of
elves and minstrels and such.  I've only met him once, but his
personality did not match his reputation; frolic is a word that comes
to mind.  His rep is that he is very serious about his work."
	"Thanks much, Oglethorpe.  Watch your back."  Silk rose and
exited the room.  He stopped a moment to survey the bar.  Slick was
there, although looking a little blurry-eyed.  Oddly enough, he did
not have any of his women with him.  Neither Terrence nor Buster were
there, but...
	"Well, well, well, if it isn't Narts; and two body guards,"
Silk said to himself.  "What are you up to, my little mouse?"
	Narts was making a point of not looking at Silk, who had left
his hood down.  Silk moved carefully across the room, heading for the
door.  "What's the matter, Slick?  You don't look so good," he said in
passing, keeping his eye on Narts.
	"Uh, well, only one of my girls got any action last night,
and, well, the others kind'a decided that I needed to try out my
wares, and, well..."
	"It's a rough life, isn't it?  Looks like O'Malley has some
new customers.  I don't want to scare off his business, so, later..."
Silk continued on, muttering, "Beg pardon," as he passed by Narts.
Narts, who had been watching the door, turned to watch the bar as Silk
passed.
	Outside, Silk arched a brow.  "Curiouser and curiouser.  Well,
let's get over to the Tree and Leaf.  Shall we stop on the way and see
if any of the others are back?"
	"No," Bash answered.  "Lets go straight over.  Its quite a
walk and we might as well get started.  Besides, Owl can keep things
in line."
	"Very well.  Let's get moving."

There was some excitement on the other side of the street.  An armored
man, older and rather gruff looking, sat astride a horse, watching the
entrance to a cheese shop.  Two members of the city watch stood on
either side of the door.  As Bash and Silk looked on, another watchman
exited the building, woman in one hand, child in the other, and gave
them a shove up the street.
	"Be gone!"
	The gent on the horse sighed in disappointment and looked
around.  Spotting Silk, he brightened somewhat.
	"You there!  Yes, you, with the patch.  Be a good citizen and
come over here."  Not having any immediate exits, Silk had little
choice.  "Closer.  There's a good man.  Now then, lets see what's
under that patch, shall we?" The armored man leaned over and lifted
Silk's quilted patch, only to scowl.  "Well, you're ugly as sin, but
your not hiding any mutations.  Be off!"
	Just then two of the watch pulled a man out of the building.
	"We found the mark on him, sir."
	"Right, he burns."
	As Silk headed up the street, he overheard, "And burn the
shop, as well."
	"But sir, what of the adjoining stores?"
	"What?  Oh, bother.  Well, get some axes, cut the shop out
>from between them, then burn it."
	"I certainly feel safer knowing Larry the Witchhunter is on
the job," Bash said with considerable sarcasm.  "Don't you?"
	"Huh?  Oh yes, quite," Silk said with an edge in my voice.
Memories of Red Sheol came back to him in a rush; Hell literally
breaking loose as that scruffy halfling smashed Red's helm, or was
that Ardak who smashed the helm?  "Much safer," Silk said tensely, and
quickened his pace.

They arrived at the Tree & Leaf a little early for dinner.  As they
walked through the door it was obvious that they did not fit in very
well.  Not only was everyone else better dressed, but they all
looked...  flighty.  There were a half-dozen elves in the place, and
nearly a score of humans.
	"Aren't they precious," Silk thought to himself as he took in
to clientele and the expensive looking bottles of wine on some of the
occupied tables.
	Silk summoned what few manners he had and, stepping up to the
bar, hailed the barkeep, who was entirely too slender for a human
barkeeper.  "Excuse me, sir, but I am looking for an elf that goes by
the name of Shadowchaser.  Would you be so good as to point him out to
me?"
	"No.  Would you care to buy something to drink before you
leave?"
	"My errand is of some urgency, and you do yourself a
disservice with your welcome.  I shall be happy to rid you of my
presence if you will first direct me to Shadowchaser.  And no, I shall
not require a drink."  The last line was added somewhat coldly.
	The tavernmaster sighed apologetically and backed down.  "Very
well, he's not here; and that's the honest truth.  Now then, I don't
believe you belong here."
	"Oh, I can tell that I don't belong here.  I'm not completely
blind.  And I'm not just real comfortable here myself.  However, this
is the place where I was told I could find him.  If you tell me when
and where I can find him, you may see me once more, and never again.
Otherwise, I may have to return several times to look for him, and I
don't think that either one of us enjoys that prospect."
	"If he comes in tonight, it will probably be in an hour or so.
If he doesn't come here, I don't know where to find him.  You want to
order something to drink and wait?  Have venison for dinner," the
tavernmaster offered.  "It's a bit early for me for dinner, but I
think I could do with a drink now.  A pint of mild ale perhaps?  And
one for my silent friend here."
	Silk collected the overpriced but excellent drinks, and he and
Bash adjourned to a corner table.  An hour went by and their drinks
had long since been sipped away, when the tavernmaster caught Silk's
eye and nodded towards an elf coming through the door.  About six foot
in height, the slender fellow was actually rather tanned, and,
strangely enough, it did not appear to be makeup; however, his long
hair was far from natural, being white flowing into silver.  He was
smiling and laughing and dressed in black with lots of silver buttons
and studs.
	Silk acknowledged the proprietor's signal with a slight wave
of the hand, then slowly approached the elf.  "Excuse me, but are you
the one that is called Shadowchaser?  If so, would you do me the
kindness of joining me for a drink and some conversation?"
	Shadowchaser immediately lost his smile.  "Oh bother, work
again?  Why is it always work?" he cried, placing the back of a hand
to his forehead.  Then he flung himself into the nearest chair and
stuck out his lower lip in a pout.  Almost immediately he burst out
laughing, snatched the nearest glass and took a sip.  "What can I do
for you?"
	Silk smiled.  "It's rather straightforward actually.  I need a
door opened.  The door is barred from the inside, and I cannot get in.
The lower windows are shuttered.  The only way to get inside is to
break the door down or to climb through an upper story window and open
the door from the inside.  I'm not much for heights, but I have heard
that they don't bother you."
	"If it is so straightforward, I doubt you need me...  or
cannot afford me; if it is a boring job, it has to pay well.  Still,
I'll take your drink..."  Shadowchaser ordered up a glass of wine that
cost Silk a crown and moved to the corner table.
	"Objectives are straightforward, but realizing them is often
another matter," Silk countered.  "The job is not without its risks,
and if excitement is a prerequisite, that probably could be arranged.
As you say, there is the matter of a price.  You are likely right in
saying that I cannot afford you.  However it may be equally true that
I cannot afford not to have you.  Best tell me how coin you normally
would ask, and how much of the rest of the story you care to hear."
	"Well now, I'll have to think about that.  You see, I don't
normally do contract work.  I have cleared over 1000 crowns on a
single hit; and that was my take, mind you, not the value of the
stones.  However, my all-time best work netted me nothing more than a
merchant's belt purse; 47 crowns I believe it was.  Might even have
been a shilling or two thrown in.  Do it again in a heartbeat, too;
bastard deserved it.  Now then, how much to open one door?  Well, I
really don't know.  100?  200 maybe?  It will really all depend on who
it is and where it is and how much of a challenge it is."
	That Shadowchaser spoke so freely of his occupation, Silk took
as a measure of the elf's skill.  "Impressive.  Well, the story goes
with the drink.  Recently I seem to have acquired a double; a twin if
you will.  Looks like me down to the last detail.  Disturbing, but not
as disturbing as the way that I found out about it.  One day I was
picked up off the street and taken before a merchant who accused me of
stealing his wife's jewels.  His wife confirmed that it was me she
saw, and I was nearly killed on the spot.  I was released on the
condition that I find the jewels and return them.  Just two days
later, I was ambushed by a group of footpads under suspicious
circumstances.  Further investigations confirmed the existence of my
double and that he was working with one Rasputan.  Coincidentally,
Rasputan has been acting erratically of late, and is quite paranoid.
Rumor has it that he is on zip.  It is he that I wish to visit, to
determine why he has taken such a sudden dislike to me.  He lives in a
three story townhouse and would not be likely to greet me pleasantly
at the door.  You see now why I require the services of someone like
yourself."
	Shadowchaser arched a brow.  "Interesting, I must say," he
said sincerely.  "Well, I wish you well, but I do not do drugs, I do
not do blood-vengeance, and I do not do dopplegangers.  Thank you for
the drink and the story, but if you will excuse me..."  With that the
elf departed, apparently intent on starting a party.
	"I should have known better than to come chasing all the way
out here," Silk said to Bash while rising from his seat.  "Let's get
back."

"We saw Rasputan once today," Owl informed the pair when they had
returned to the apartment.  "In the company of four bodyguards, no
less.  No sign of you though.  Smash and Crash are still keeping an
eye on the place.  We found some good spots to watch from and I'm
certain we have not been made.  I just came back to report.  Any
instructions?"
	Silk made no attempt to hide his frustration at the day's
events.  "Can't find anyone to take the door for us, no line on my
double, and four goons around my target.  The gods are trying to
punish me...  Ah, well, I'll see if I can find Terrence again
tomorrow.  Otherwise, I'll just buy a ladder and do the job myself.  I
don't believe I just said that.  Um, instructions...  oh yes, if any
of you see my double, stick with him.  I hired a man to do a number on
him, and I want him to be able to perform his job expeditiously.
Report back to me here just before noon tomorrow even if you don't
find him.  I plan to spend most of my day tomorrow in the Low Quarter.
One of you should meet me here an hour after sundown tomorrow and
we'll head over to Rasputan's place.  Can I get any of you anything
whilst I'm about tomorrow?"


					Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Fri Dec 14 22:58:33 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (vi)
Keywords: the tables turn
Date: 14 Dec 90 20:43:38 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC


				The Tables Turn


Mid-morning, Owl burst into the apartment.
	"Found him!  He is sitting at a table outside a little eatery
not that far from the temple of Sigmar.  Whatever you are going to do,
you'd better act fast.  Rasputan gave him a throwing knife and a small
jar when they parted this morning.  I think he is waiting to kill
someone."
	Silk jumped to his feet, grabbing his cloak and stick.  "Good
job!  Come with me, both of you.  We've got to get to Freedman right
away!"
	They left the apartment and hurried towards the Rat's Nest,
but as they crossed over the bridge, they ran into Terrence.
	"Half a moment, guys," Silk instructed.  He strode over to
Terrence.  "I've been looking for you.  Got a job that suits you well;
short and sweet.  If you are interested in some quick cash, meet me at
the Rat's Nest in an hour."  Without waiting for a reply he returned
to Owl and Bash.  "Let's go."

"Good day, Mister Freedman.  My twin has been located.  Owl here will
guide you to him.  There is some need for haste, as he may not remain
at his current location for long.  Here is the remainder of the sum
that we agreed to.  I feel obligated to warn you that he is armed."
Silk handed Jubal ten crowns, trying to conceal the amount from Bash
and Owl.
	"Da, okay," the pit fighter replied.  Without another word, he
stood and exited the establishment with Owl.
	Terrence showed up shortly after Owl and Jubal left.  Looking
unsure of the location, he joined Silk and Bash just as they were
starting on a beer and a bowl.
	"Glad you decided to make it," Silk said, happy for a reason
not to take another bite of his meal.  "As I said, the job is short
and sweet.  I need a door opened.  It's probably barred from the
inside and the only other ways in appear to be through upper windows.
I think that you and the job are a good match."
	Terrence looked at Silk out of the corner of his eye.  "What's
the catch?  What's waiting for me inside?  Is this the emperor's house
or something?"
	"Catch?  Oh yes, there is one problem.  The person living
inside is a drugged-up paranoid.  He was last seen with four
bodyguards, and there is also at least one other person living the
house."  Silk paused from his meal and look Terrence directly in the
eye.  "I'm going to hit Rasputan."
	Terrence smiled.  "I'm interested.  What is the pay?"
	"I'll give you five now, and at least ten afterwards.  I will
probably be feeling generous if this matter is concluded to my
satisfaction."  Silk was also caught Bash's eye upon saying
'generous.'
	"I'll do it.  Are you expecting me to do anything else?"
	"Are you any good in a fight?  There's going to be action and
I won't be sorry for another arm on my side.  Even if you don't care
to bash some heads, it wouldn't hurt to have someone to do some
scouting.  If you just want to open the door and leave, fine.  I'll
tell you what happened with Rasputan afterwards."
	"We'll see.  When and where?"
	"Be at O'Malley's just before sundown."  Silk handed him the
gold and Terrence hurried out.
	Silk tried to choke down the rest his meal.  Supposedly it was
beef stew; he knew it could not be dog, because no dog could produce
that much gristle.  After his stomach was satisfied and the beer had
washed some forgiveness into his tongue, Silk and Bash spent the the
afternoon carousing with the locals.  Their stay at the Rat's Nest was
not as fun-filled as their last; everyone could tell they were waiting
for something big, but after buying a few beers they were made
welcome.

Silk was trying to get some rest when Owl, Crash, and Smash entered
the apartment.  All three were looking pale.  The latter two collapse
onto bedrolls, obviously traumatized.  Owl dropped into a chair and
stared into space as he spoke.
	"Well, it's done.  You don't have to worry about your double
any more.  Just as Jubal and I were coming up on the scene, you...
your double jumped up and threw a poisoned blade at a high-ranking
priest of Sigmar.  I...  well, it wasn't easy, but I got Jubal to kill
you.  I didn't think having you hunted by the law throughout most of
the Old World would do anybody any good."  He paused for a moment.
"After...  after you died, well, you...  no, 'it' changed.  It grew
taller and skinnier and...  lost all its skin.  Disemboweled thugs are
one thing, but I hope I never see anything like that again.  It had no
eyelids.  It just kept staring.  Jubal seemed to take it pretty well,
although we had to scrape up another 20 crowns between the three of us
to pay him for the job.  He killed him in an alley.  Not too many
people were around, but enough that the word is already spreading; I
don't think you're in danger from the watch or anything, even if any
witnesses knew your face.  I didn't hear anyone talking about you."
Owl closed his eyes, but quickly opened them again.
	"I hope I don't sleep for a week."
	Silk listened in horror as Owl described the obviously inhuman
creature that was committing atrocities in Silk's guise.  As Owl
narrated the demise of the demon, Silk breathed a sigh of relief and
offered a short prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening.
But realization came suddenly, "No, it's not done.  My double was just
a piece in the game, albeit a powerful one.  The one responsible for
bringing that obscenity to Altdorf is still playing, and we are the
only ones that know what is happening.  You all have done so much for
me already, but I still have need of you.  Take whatever time you need
to pull yourselves together.  We have to go out again as soon as you
are able."

Silk rapped on the side gate of Goering's estate.  "William the Sharp,
please," he said to the gateman.
	William soon arrived at the gate.
	"Can we talk inside?  Unsettling things are afoot," Silk said
quietly, but in great earnest.  When Silk and Owl were allowed inside
the gate, Silk instructed the footpad to fill William in on the
happenings at the eatery.  When Owl had finished his account, Silk
turned to William.
	"The poisoned blade was given to my double by Rasputan.  Owl
here, saw the exchange this morning.  It is clear to me that a plot is
in motion; one that seeks to make an impact beyond that of my demise.
I didn't expect your help when this was a personal conflict of mine,
but now the game is more important.  I need help."
	"Hmmm..."  William hummed thoughtfully.  "I don't see that as
the obvious conclusion...  about the game, I mean.  However, what did
you have in mind?"
	"Rasputan either knows what is going on, or has the
information that will lead to those responsible.  He must be found and
pumped for that information.  I had originally planned to hit his
place tonight.  I still think that is the best course of action,
especially if there are people present that can better deal with
things like the lads saw this afternoon.  I would be satisfied if you
were along, even if you didn't take part in the fracas.  Naturally,
you could bring whomever you wanted to support you.  Also, it would
give you an excellent opportunity to identify your master's gems,
should they be in Rasputan's possession."  Stepping closer, Silk
whispered, "If you could see your way clear, I could use some cash to
pay the lads.  They've been working for me for days out of the
goodness of their hearts.  Sixty would do, A hundred would be nice.
We could call it a finder's fee."  Stepping back again, Silk added,
"If you need to verify my story, just ask Freedman.  He'll tell you
right enough."
	William was silent for a while, then, "Wait here."  When he
returned it was with a smile.  "I'll go with you.  As you said, it
will make for an excellent opportunity to identify my employer's
gems."
	"Very good.  We'll stop to get Terrence, and then go over to
Rasputan's."

Silk surveyed his little army with more than a little pride.
"Terrence," he said with as much authority as he could muster.  "When
do you want to start?  I suspect that our chances will improve as the
night grows old, but you will be the most exposed, so you call the
shot."
	"Three hours before dawn," Terrence replied, obviously pleased
to be in on the decision making.
	Silk nodded, then left to have few words with O'Malley.  Upon
returning to his band, he quietly announced, "O'Malley has been
gracious enough to grant us use of a little place out back, so come
on, I want everyone get some sleep."



						Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Fri Dec 14 22:58:58 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (vii)
Keywords: tooth and claw
Date: 14 Dec 90 21:54:07 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC


			Tooth and Claw


"I don't remember that door looking so tough," Smash said as the six
would-be assailants hid behind Rasputan's townhouse, the four footpads
wearing their customary masks.
	"Don't worry," Bash replied.  "Terrence should have it open
any moment now."
	"He's probably already dead," Crash muttered.
	"You shut up!" Smash hissed.
	"You shut up!" Crash retorted.
	"You both shut up!" Owl put in with a cuff to both of them.
Bash just shook his head, while William looked quite certain that he
had made a mistake in coming on the expedition.
	The door opened, with a faint light coming out.  Terrence
stuck his masked head out the door, tallow candle in hand, and
beckoned.  Then he disappears inside.  Silk, followed by the others,
quickly moved to the door and entered the house.
	"We have a slight problem," Terrence whispered in Silk's ear
with a gesture towards a corner of the kitchen.  There an apparently
terrified servant huddled.
	Silk motioned for the footpads to keep watch, approached the
servant, and hissed, "Be smart.  Don't scream or try to run, and
nobody gets hurt.  How many in the house?  Quietly now..."
	The poor bugger appeared to be to scared to talk.  Silk was
not even sure the servant understood what was being said.  Speaking
softly and slowly, Silk continued, "We aren't going to hurt you.
Where do you keep the spirits?  You look like you could use a good,
stiff drink.  Can you stand?  You don't have to get up, just point the
way.  Shhh!  We aren't going to hurt you..."
	With a whimper, his first sound, the servant buried his face
in his hands and hid.
	Silk stepped back and whispered to Bash, "This isn't going to
do.  Knock him out.  I don't want him raising an alarm until we've
gone.  Try not to let him see it coming."
	Bash stepped forward with his club and gave the servant a
glancing blow to the head, sending the servant sprawling.
	"Owl, front door," Silk instructed.
	The footpad left in search of the exit.
	"T, stairs?"
	Terrence pointed.
	Silk nodded, then asked in a whisper, "Did you find anything
else on your way to the door that might be helpful?"
	When Terrence shook his head, Silk led the way to the stairs,
using a lantern for light.  He held a cloth over much of the shield,
so most light was cast only before him.  The stairway was for
servants; very narrow and steep.  It led to a small landing with a
doorway, then continued up.  The doorway led to a hallway, with
several doors along it.  Silk continued up.
	Suddenly there was a seemingly booming voice from below, "What
the...  Hey!"
	"Uh, Silk, would you step down here for a minute," William
whispered from the rear.
	Silk raised the lantern to shed a little more light on the
situation, then closed his eye in frustration.  William, still on the
landing, had the barrel of his matchlock firmly planted on the nose of
a nearly naked man holding a sword.  Silk edged down the stairs and,
trying to sound menacing, whispered to the newcomer, "Try to be clever
and there will be a new color scheme for this area.  Hand over the
sword."
	The man did not make a move.
	"If you're thinking of yelling out," William added.  "Don't
bother.  Just nod and I'll blow you away.  That should wake everyone
up."
	The man handed over his sword.
	"Now then," Silk went on, "How many people are in this house,
and where are they?"
	The prisoner slowly shook his head.
	"I don't know why I bother asking," Silk grumbled, stepping
past the prisoner.  Setting down the lantern, Silk took off his cloak
and used his knife to cut two strips from it.  "Open up," he
instructed the prisoner from behind.  Stuffing one strip into the
man's mouth, he used the other to tie it in place.  "Downstairs,
quietly.  Bash and William come with me.  You two, check things out
and come down.  Don't go into any rooms if you don't have to."
	Silk returned to the kitchen, followed by the prisoner,
William, and Bash.  With a nod to Terrence, Silk turned to the
prisoner and said, "You can answer a couple of questions, or you can
end up like your friend."  He gestured to the servant sprawled on the
floor, careful not to shine the full light of the lantern on the body,
lest the prisoner realize that the 'corpse' was still breathing.  Silk
removed the gag.  "Now, talk to me."
	"You want me to talk?  Sure.  The emperor eats prunes and
pisses on his wife.  How's that?"
	"You know," William said thoughtfully.  "If I put the barrel
in his mouth and make him close it, it would muffle the shot."
	"Of course, Heinrich is sleeping in the boss's room tonight,"
the bodyguard replied, suddenly loosing his nerve.  "For those of you
who don't know what that means, Heinrich will have his bed up against
the door.  Fritz will be on the third floor, too, but in another room.
George and I were sharing a guest room."
	"Much better.  Perhaps you'll even find work again someday.
In the meantime, I'll have to tie you up.  Hands behind your back,
please."  Silk bound and gagged the bodyguard, including binding his
legs.  "Go to sleep.  That would be the best way to make certain that
you don't see us again.  If you can't sleep, I'm sure one of the boys
will help you."  With that, Silk took Bash and William back to the
second floor.  Smash was waiting on the landing.
	"All the doors are closed, but we did hear snoring coming from
one."
	"Right.  There is one guy on this floor, and two on the next
floor.  One of the two upstairs is with Rasputan, and has his bed
against the door.  We can't get in there without making noise.  So we
are going to arrange things so that noise doesn't matter.  Let's take
care of the heavy sleeper first, since we know where he is.  Knock
out, bind and gag, leave."
	Smash stalked off, returning shortly with Crash and giving
Silk a nod.
	Silk smiled and led them to the third floor.  "Let's work our
way down the hall.  I'll hold the lantern high, and one of you open
the doors.  That way more of us can see into the room, and the one
opening the door has a better chance to get out of the way.  Remember,
at least one door is blocked by a bed.  If the door doesn't give,
we'll assume that it belongs to the boss-man.  We'll come back to it
after dealing with the other guard."
	"That one should be the master bedroom," William whispered,
pointing towards a door at the end of the hall.
	Crash put his ear to the nearest door, then waved Silk over
and pointed at it.
	Silk pointed to Crash and then to the door, then pointed to
Crash and Smash and made a swooping motion with my hand toward the
door.  Finally Silk pointed to himself and made the same swooping
motion.  Holding the lantern and his walking stick ready, he waited.
	Crash nodded and put a hand to the latch.  It clicked, but the
door did not open.  The footpad gently put his shoulder against the
door and slowly applied force.  When that failed, he look to Silk
questioningly and went through the motion of bashing his shoulder
against the door.
	Silk held up his hand.  After thinking for a moment, he waved
them away from the door and back towards the stairs.  There he
whispered new instructions.
	"We'll go after the boss instead.  We'll break down that door
if it won't open easily.  Smash, you stay behind.  When we start to
make noise, the guy in the room we just tried should come running.
Drop him.  Has anyone seen anything that could be used as a battering
ram?"
	Crash patted his shoulder and smiled.
	Silk moved down the hall to the end of the hall and pointed at
the door to the master bedroom.  The others gathered around.  Without
further ado, Crash crashed into the door and the house was suddenly
filled with sound.
	The door popped open a crack with much splintering, but went
no further.  Inside, the crash was followed but a thump and much
scrambling.  As Crash pulled back and threw himself at the door again,
the door Smash was watching was pulled upon.  A guard charged out,
sword in hand and nightshirt on person, only to be brained by Smash.
The guard went down hard.
	Crash hit the door, doubling the opening and revealing a
splintering bar, but he also broke out a plank in the top have of the
door, and his shoulder momentarily became stuck in the opening.
	With a cry of pain, Crash pulled himself free and fell back,
pursued by the point of a sword and bleeding from the shoulder.
	"Together!" Silk shouted at Bash.  The pair slammed into the
door simultaneously, tearing it away from its morings and sending it
into the room; that is, at least the top half.  The bottom half of the
door was initially stopped by the bed that was across the doorway.
Still, not one to be a stick in the mud, it cheerfully lifted itself
into the air and followed along behind the top half.  Unfortunately,
this sent both Bash and Silk over the bed in a horizontal position.
The door came to rest propped up on the bed, forming a nice ramp
exiting the room.  Silk and Bash tumbled down the ramp, even as it was
formed with a jarring thud, and onto the floor.  The lantern Silk was
holding gracefully arced through the air, described no less than three
complete flips before shattering on the hardwood floor, making a
lovely pattern of fire and igniting a partitioning curtain in the back
of the room.
	Bash recovered quickly, and Silk was soon on his feet,
himself.  The bodyguard had been knocked aside by their entrance and
sent sprawling.  As Silk stood, the bodyguard regained his feet and
scrambled after his sword.
	Silk flicked open the main blade of his walking stick and
charged.  The guard reached the blade, but even as he turned, Silk
planted a boot in his chest, sending him tumbling.  The bodyguard
rolled quickly to his feet and squared off with sword in hand, but he
was gasping for breath.
	William leaped into the room, followed momentarily by Smash.
Bash grabbed the burning partition curtain and ripped it halfway down,
but suddenly sprouted a quarrel in his right shoulder and went down.
Teeth clenched, he scrambled back, towards the door.
	"William!" Silk shouted, pointing to the guard.  Silk jump
backwards to give the gunman room, and flipped open the other blades
on his stick.
	William stepped forward, pistol leveled at the bodyguard.  The
guard hesitated.
	"On the floor!  Now!!" Silk shouted at the guard.
	The guard went down.  As Silk moved forward to disarm him, a
ceramic pot was lobbed into the front half of the room from behind the
burning curtain.  It broke against the floor, spilling its contents,
and the previously small fire suddenly doubled in size.
	Keeping low, Silk disarmed the man on the floor.  "Smash!" he
called.  "Like the other ones!"
	Smash smashed, apparently successfully, and Silk took stock of
the situation.  Aside from the bed and a few clothes in a pile, there
was nothing on this side of the curtain.  The other side of the
curtain seemed to be stocked much better, but Silk could not see any
movement.  There were still two meters of curtain, now fully engulfed
in flames, hanging.
	William caught Silk's eye and inquired with a gesture if he
wanted a chance shot through the curtain.
	Silk nodded to William.
	William waved his arm back and forth, as if allowing his gun
to find its own target, then settled on a spot, sighted, and squeezed
the trigger.
	The shot was deafening, but so was the bellow that followed.
The bestial scream of rage was still echoing as Silk, eye wide with
fear, leaped forward and slashed at the top of the curtain.  Then he
hooked a spike into it and tore the curtain free.  It tumbled into a
pile, smoothering most of flames, and Silk stepped back, walking stick
held in both hands.
	Through the haze Silk saw the hulk of Rasputan.  He was
clutching a pouch in one hand and holding a wavy, wicked-looking
dagger in the other.  At his feet was a crossbow, and around him were
trunks, racks, and a huge wardrobe.  There was a hole in his left arm
>from William's ball, but Rasputan did not seem to notice it.
	"Give it up, Rasputan!  It's over!" Silk shouted.
	Rasputan, whose face had previously been hidden in shadows for
cinematic effect, suddenly leaned forward into the light and hissed
cat-like at Silk, baring a rather handsome set of fangs.
	Silk screamed and slashed wildly at Rasputan, opening up his
right leg.  With a maniacal scream and eyes bugging, he lunged with
the dagger.  The point just missed Silk's head, but the guard struck
Silk's leather coif with considerable force.
	Momentarily dazed, Silk backed away as quickly as he could,
yelling at the top of his lungs, "Shoot!  Dammit, shoot!"
	No shots, be they pistol or crossbow, were forth coming;
however, William was immediately at Silk's side, short sword in hand.
Rasputan circled right, putting his back to the wall.  Bash, hurt, but
club in hand, flipped the bed onto its side to block the doorway, and
stood ready to cut off escape.  Smash was at his side.
	Silk moved forward slowly, moving away from William somewhat.
	Rasputan attacked, charging through the flames, slashing for
Silk's face.  Silk dodged back and retaliated, but Rasputan batted the
blow aside and ducked under William's thrust.  Rasputan's blade
slashed open Silk's left leg as the latter put his stick upside
Rasputan's head.  Silk fell back in pain, but Rasputan only growled
and pressed the attack, pausing long enough to kick William's sword
thrust aside.
	Smash won Silk a brief respite when he brought his club down
with all his might atop Rasputan's head.  Rasputan growled, shook his
head, and leaped after Silk.  Silk heard Bash yelling something to
Crash, but was otherwise occupied and paid it no mind.
	Again Silk's blow was brushed aside, and William, his heart
not in the fight, had yet to draw blood.  Smash was not having much
luck, either, but for the moment Rasputan seemed confused about who to
attack; every time he went for Silk, he had to make a fancy move to
avoid William or Smash.
	Again Silk's blow was brushed aside, along with William's, as
Rasputan became more and more agitated and his growls became more and
more bestial.  Like a bear to a dog, Rasputan sent a vicious swipe
Smash's way, but the footpad danced out of reach.
	"Cover!"
	Smash dove clear of the battle, and Silk, momentarily confused
by the shout, quickly followed his example.  William crossed blades
with Rasputan.
	A quarrel narrowly missed William and tore into Rasputan's
right arm.  With a screaming hiss he ripped it free and charged Silk.
Silk took the charge on his blade.  The point of his weapon entered
Rasputan's gut, as well the body of the walking stick up to the side
blades.  However, Silk did not have time to rejoice; Rasputan crashed
into him and together they went down.
	The wind was knocked out of Silk, but Rasputan quickly heaved
himself back up.  He looked about frantically, realizing he had lost
the pouch he was carrying, then made a beeline for the door.  After
three steps his legs buckled under him and he crashed to the floor.


					Jeff Stehman

From stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu Fri Dec 14 22:59:45 1990
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business (viii)
Keywords: the payoff
Date: 14 Dec 90 22:29:33 GMT
Organization: Clemson University, Clemson, SC


				The Payoff


Silk slowly got to his feet, keeping his eye on the body.  He picked
up his weapon and held it ready as he approached Rasputan.  "Load
one," Silk said to his companions in the doorway.  When they had
quarrels at the ready, Silk extracted the dagger from Rasputan's hand
and turned the body face up.
	Rasputan's eyes were open and clear.  Startled, Silk worked up
his courage and checked for signs of life.  There were none.
	Silk gave the body a quick search, but turned up only a purse
with a few keys and thirty to forty crowns.  He examined the wavy
dagger, checking it for quality and waiting for the tingling that
would alert him to any magic.  After a few moments he gave up and
dropped the dagger.
	"Smash, you might want to check on those guards that were
taken out earlier.  Make sure that none of them are thinking about
waking up any time soon.  You can fetch Owl, too."  Then Silk turned
to William.  "Now to find those jewels..."
	William lit two lanterns in the back of the room, then picked
up the pouch that Rasputan had been clinging to and opened it.
Puzzled, he jiggled it a bit.  Silk's eye widened as traces of white
dust floated up from the bag.  "Huh, no jewels here," William said.
"Doesn't look like any drug I know of, either."  He pulled the strings
and tossed the pouch aside.
	"Uh oh," Silk said quietly to himself; he appeared calm to the
others in the room, but only because he was completely stunned by
William's discovery.  Suddenly Silk snatched up Rasputan's dagger and
inspected the blade, then pulled the coif from his head and examined
it closely, looking for any trace of the white dust.  His mind was
racing; "Warpstone would explain a lot of things!  Did William come in
contact with any of it?  Damn!"
	Silk tossed both the dagger and his coif aside.  Only then did
he notice how much smoke was in the room.  The fire on the floor had
burned down; however, it had managed to start a small, more serious
fire in the floor.  Smash was attempting to stomp out the flames.
	The curtain was smoldering badly and the cause of most of the
smoke.
	Silk glanced at William, who was quickly searching through the
wardrobe, just in time to see The Sharp's eyes light up.  William
quickly covered his momentary lapse, but Silk knew better.
	"Are these the ones?" he asked William, moving over to his
side.  Silk took a good look at the jewels while waiting for William
to reply.
	"Yes, it appears to be all here..."  William ended with a
cough, and the curtain suddenly burst into full flame.
	"Bash, grab a basin and get some water to put out that..."
Silk stopped as Bash, quarrel firmly embedded in his shoulder, gave
him a very cold look.  "Never mind."  Then he turned his attention
back to the jewels.  "Here let me help you with that," he said
politely as he gathered some of the goods William was trying to
pocket.
	After the jewels had been collected, Silk found a pitcher of
water near the bed and poured it over the flames.  More smoke billowed
up as the water hissed over the fire, extinguishing much of it.
	Owl and Crash arrived and immediately helped Bash out of the
room.  Coughing, William followed them.  Smash waited by the doorway
while Silk made a quick search of the bedroom.  The biggest key in
Rasputan's purse fit one of the trunks, but Silk found nothing of
interest as he threw the contents onto the floor.  Pulling open a draw
on the nightstand, he found a pouch containing what felt like coinage,
but his eye was watering so bad he could do little more than grab the
pouch and leave; down the stairs and to the front room.
	"Let's get out of here and get some help for these two," Silk
said, indicating Bash and Crash.  "There will be plenty of time to
return the valuables later."
	William hesitated, about to object, but then followed Silk out
the door.  Terrence disappeared as soon as they were outside.
	"Something wrong?" Silk asked of William, but without really
waiting long enough for a response, he turned to Bash.  "You want the
same guy that worked on me, or are you two going to be okay?"
	"Doc," Bash replied through clenched teeth.
	"Not liking the idea of following you all over this city,"
William said irritably.  "Isn't there a closer place where we could go
over the loot?  They could go on ahead to find surgeon.  And we're
going to have to stick to back alleys if you don't want more trouble;
look at you, you're covered with blood.  And he's got a bolt sticking
out of his arm!  I'm not interested in chasing down alleys."
	"All right.  Smash, you accompany Bash and Crash to a place
where they can get patched up.  And take this."  Silk tossed the purse
that he had recovered from Rasputan's corpse to Smash.  "Owl, I'd like
to have you around, if that's okay with you."  The last was directed
at William.  "Is your spy-hole reasonable for the two of us?" Silk
asked Owl.  "We might make a division of the valuables there."
	"Wouldn't work," Owl replied as the others hustled off.
	Silk gave William an inquiring look, but he only shrugged and
shook his head.
	"All right," Silk said with a sigh, looking at the building.
"Let's put some distance between us and this place first.  Let's head
south toward the docks.  We'll borrow a warehouse for the split.
It'll have to be back alleys, but it won't be as far as to Georing's."
	"Good enough."
	Twice they had to stay in an alley to let the watch go by, but
they made it to the docks.  Owl forced the back door on a warehouse
that did not seem to hold anything worth guarding, and in they went.
Owl disappeared into the darkness and soon returned with a lantern.
It was lit, but the footpad kept the fire low.
	Silk indicates a large crate and Owl places the lantern on the
makeshift table.
	"Before we dump everything on the table, suppose you describe
the jewels that belong to the mistress," Silk suggested coolly.  "In
detail.  That way Georing will be satisfied, and you and I can be
civilized about dividing the spoils."
	William's face was a mask for a moment, then he smiled and
described the jewels in moderate detail.
	"So," William finished inquisitively.  "I assume we're setting
my mistress's stuff aside.  How do you plan on cutting up the rest?"
	They turned up the lantern and set the jewels on the table.
Silk, taking William at his word, and hoping he had not had time to
examine any of the jewels, separated out Georing's stones.  It was
close to half of what they had; the better half, with several matching
pieces.  However, there was quite a little bundle of jewels remaining.
Silk pondered the treasure for a while.
	"Well, your information has been useful.  And you did come
along on the raid.  On the other hand, I did all of the dirty work,
and had to fund this venture myself.  How about this: one share for
the lads, one for my expenses, two for me, and two for you?"
	"I can live with that."
	The two of them set about dividing the loot into thirds, with
William putting considerable trust in Silk's evaluations.
	"You can mess with the rest of that," William explained,
selecting and gathering up one of the three piles at Silk's request.
	Silk took note of Owl for the first time.  He seemed to be
salivating.  Silk gave him a wink and scooped the remaining jewels
into large pouch.  "I would like to see Georing once more.  I want to
hear it from him that this business is over.  I shall call tomorrow
around noon, unless you can suggest a better time."
	"That'll do."
	Carefully exiting the warehouse, William and Silk parted
company.
	"Two questions," Owl said when William was out of sight.
"Where to, and are you ever going to dress that leg?"
	"We'll go back to the apartment.  As for the leg, I had
forgotten about it, but it's starting to feel stiff.  Half a
moment..."
	The wound was not too bad, although it looked messy.  It had
stopped bleeding on its own, but now that it was all behind him, Silk
was feeling a light-headed.
	"Yeah, I'll make it to the apartment."

Silk went over the goods thoroughly and with great care.  The light
was not good in the apartment, but he could not sleep without at least
getting a rough estimate.  He put the worth of the jewels in the one
to three thousand crown range, and had another dizzy spell as he
momentarily pondered the worth of the ent