Thar Shaddin

Examples needed to be made.

So Oglar knew, having made his career from them. His mere presence was an example. A towering figure of grey and gold, slate grey skin and dull gold metal creating a stark contrast. A forest of spikes sprouted from the brass-coated steel pauldron on his shoulder, which was supported by segmented plates over the rest of the upper arm. Worn directly over the skin, with no need for padding, was a brass-coated maille shirt over the thick body. The legs were left bare, with his lower body clothed only by fur boots and what could only be described as a fur jockstrap.

What was also an example was the mangled and crumpled body laying in a heap. It had been broken in half, the spine folded further than any spine should go, and numerous large punctures had been stabbed into the body in seemingly random patterns. One could easily surmise a connection between the holes poked into the body and the dried blood coating the trio of long spikes extending from the fist of Oglar's brass-coated gauntlet.

Written on the ground was a message of blood. Dark blood caking the cobbles. It read in four lines.

First line was SNYDE'S.
The second line was TERRA, there was a line scored through it, as though been crossed out.
The third line was TERRO, again crossed out with the blood.
Fourth line was TURF.

This was an unusual task for Oglar, who normally fought in the arena, with no objective more complex than kill the victim put before him. Opponent was more often the word used, victim was far more accurate. No matter how well-equipped his opponent was, there was never a fair fight when Oglar got involved.

The victim here was another gang member. A rival gang trying to move in on Snyde's turf, and why Oglar was defending this turf he had no idea. Aside from the fact he was told to. Initially the plan had been to find Snyde and offer him assistance, but Snyde had done a far too effective job at hiding for that.

Currently, Oglar was waiting near the river. He had some help as it was, some of which helped by telling him that more help could be found here, to strengthen Snyde's position.

It was good when others did the thinking. Left Oglar free for the important things. Like smashin' stuff.

For a long time, Oglar and his compatriots gazed towards the river. Spending long hours stood in one place was easy for Oglar, it gave him much-needed time to think. After all, thinking was difficult business, best given plenty of time.

The one beside him was more restless. A bald-headed man twitching and turning with his entire body mimicking the agitated movements of a rat's tail. Carrying weapons drawn did not seem unusual to him, as he held a long backsword in one hand and a thick parrying dagger with the other, both lashing back and forth as though looking for someone to cut. The armour he wore was bright lacquered leather of crimson and gold, concentrated on the torso, though with matching bright gauntlets and boots.

With them was a fellow with bronzed skin and an eagerness to show it off. He wore a darker bronze helmet of Corinthian style with slits for the eyes and mouth, yet still sporting a heavy noseguard. In addition was a muscled breastplate as well as open greaves and vambraces held with laces to his shins and forearms, leaving the calf and inner forearm uncovered. In keeping with his bronze theme was a bronze-headed trident and net, the tines of the fork being barbed for added cruelty.

Another was long-haired and blue-faced, an imitation of the woadic tribes, and equipped with the most barbaric-looking weapons they could fine. Horned helmet, a dark iron breastplate, and a spiked flail held with two hands, the head resembling a spiked iron skull. A furry mess of a beard was kept matted and grimy, a deliberate attempt to appear as 'barbaric' as possible.

They all stood in plain view, finding nice large rocks of the ruin which were once building blocks, and they waited for the boat to arrive.

Eventually, a small river boat did come. A bunch of dark cloaked figures came out carrying long knives and throwing spears. They scurried in their group towards the nearest people they could find. Oglar and his fellow gladiators.

"You come to blow some hard-earned cash?" quipped Oglar.

One of the bandits sniggered, pulling aside his mask. His skin was craggy, weather-beaten, the face of a man living on the Sooqui Plain.

"You know, some guys want to take your trade." commented the false-woad idly.

"What?" snapped the bandit.

"They got a compound the other side of the city. Been looting and taking the hot contraband. Sending guys to take over your trade. Want to do something about it?"

Distrustful as ever, the bandit narrowed his eyes. "We'll check it out."

As Luki Lepowitz walked breezily towards the meeting, as if she was just passing through on her way somewhere, Zaryel, Good Boy and Blunt tried to hide themselves as close as they dared. Soubrette, as the lookout, had found herself a high vantage point on part of the old building that had not crumbled so far as the rest. She had Zaryel's crossbow with her, but did not plan to use it; inexperienced as she was and with a weapon built more for concealment and ease of drawing than range, all it was likely to do was uneccessarily draw attention to her. A shot into the ground near the mens' hiding places would be the signal to attack.

Four pairs of eyes watched the infamous gang-killer walk innocently towards the nefarious gathering...

These were people who made their lives from being feared, and from giving people reason to fear them. So when this shady gathering was confronted by a lone female steadily walking over in their direction, puzzled stares turned in her direction, swiftly followed by the criminal's wariness to anything remotely doubtful. Immediately, glances were being cast all over for others.

Seeing none, they were far from comforted. All this meant that anyone she brought with her was good enough to evade detection, which was something far worse than visible accompanyment.

For a moment, the face-wrapped brigands scurried forwards like rats. Then stopped. No sense in going over to her, to anything she might have planned. None of them recognised her, they were not truly gang members so much as roaming robbers in the wild who traded with the criminals. Stolen money and jewels did not do much in the Sooqui Plain, so they scheduled regular visits to the whore-dens and fences to enjoy their plunder.

Neither did the more flamboyant and diverse fighters. Professional warriors would know them as gladiators purely by the style of their equipment - designed for show above functionality. The individual pieces were all fully functional and valuable, but few wise people would choose a single pauldron and not a cuirass.

Oglar revealed his ignorance by his gaze on the strange woman. Either she was very stupid to come here or she knew something that changed matters. Deciding there was no harm in asking, he waited until they were in easy conversation distance, and asked. "What you want?"

Luki stared at Oglar for a good twenty seconds before satisfying herself that he was not feigning ignorance for any reason; he actually did not know who she was. That was a surprise they hadn't planned for. She was now pretty much certain that they weren't connected to the gang that was moving in an Snyde's turf; those guys had regular gang thugs and there was no reason for them to hire outside. The only question that remained was whether they were actually employed by Snyde or just some random thieves and thugs on a river trip. She'd heard of dumb muscle but this was ridiculous. On the other hand, if they really were that slow...

"I was asked to meet here," she said, "By Domanic Snyde. Do you know him? He said he has hired mighty warriors to protect his territory. Are you the warriors he told me about?"

On her vantage point, Soubrette saw the two of them talking and figured the gang must have propositioned Luki, as they suspected would happen. Still, ahe was alert in case anything should appear to go wrong.

Oglar furrowed his brow in confusion, furry eyebrows scrunching on his forehead. A stoop brought him down as he stepped towards Luki, inspecting. She could keep the distance if she wanted, but it was Olgar's aim to subtly close it.

Overall, he did not trust this situation one bit. 'Mighty warriors' described Oglar and his companions very well. And, well, they had not found Dominic Snyde to be hired by him - he would gladly accept money for his services but he needed to find the man to be paid by him first. All of this seemed a little too convenient.

"You know where to find him?" inquired the big guy, sadly aware that he was revealing his own ignorance. Then he decided to try something further. "What else were you told?"