(121-01-30) Thugs
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Summary: Things get a little ridiculous in the Thieves Market.
Date: 121-01-30
Related: Immediately follows The Law of Undercity
Players:
Xhabo..Peri..Gromm..Mikhal..

Thieves' Market, Oldtown

A dingy, dirty little market square, packed nearly from wall to wall with people. The din of shouting and screaming and chatter is nearly deafening, along with the scramble and rush of people. Here one can get the sorts of things the well-to-do, law-abiding shops would not ordinarily stock.

Poisons, potions, philtres, smuggling items such as extra long boots, cloaks, rings with hidden compartments, and the things that were smuggled inside them. Exotic drugs, spices, wines from Across The Narrow Sea, jewelry, and stranger things besides. Whores of all kinds patrol the tight litle market, scantily dressed or not at all, the better to sell what they have to offer the good people of the Undercity.

The archway to the West allows one to escape the dingy little market.

The Thieves' Market is in full swing. Though the sun is still in the sky, it is too far off to shed much light in this secluded corner of the city. The square is full of the dregs of humanity, trading in coin, flesh, and desperation.

In the middle of the square, a ruckus has sprung up. The shouting of the crowd draws plenty of attention. But it soon quiets when a tall, ebony-skinned man pushes through the throngs into the circle of onlookers, where two men stand facing each other — one holding a broken shaft of wood, the other bleeding from the head with a dagger in his hand. The dark man speaks, his voice commanding and stern, "Idiots! Who began this? What has happened?"

Peri is carrying a wrapped item. Xhabo's voice catches her attention. She is smart enough to wear a plain black cloth over her hair and shoulders. She seems to be a bit ancy, moving over to gawk at the mess going on. She seems rather intrigued, but grips the box tightly.

As if things were not complicated enough a large dark figure slips into the Thieves Market. Few are looking at Black Mikhal or Ser Mikhal Bolton as he enters - but many would viscerally feel the sudden drop in temperature that often marks the man's arrival. Towering over most of the crowd the grim giant watches with detached interest Xhabo's handling of a dispute.

The man with the stick jabs an accusing finger at the knife-wielder. "He fucked my wife! I'll kill him!" He looks about ready to attempt just that when Xhabo steps up and puts a heavy hand to the man's chest, giving him a warning look. He glances to the other man, his look asking the question for it.

The bladesman withers a bit under Xhabo's gaze, but nods. "She can stand him. He stinks of shit and beats her. Yeah, I fucked her. So what? It's no business of yours, Duna."

Xhabo Duna glowers at both men. "What is my business is what you bring to this market. What is Loraquo's business is how you draw attention. If you wish to kill each other, you will not do it here. It's bad for trade. You," he points to the knife wielder, "Go find a healer." Then he beckons to a man in the crowd, who obediently steps forward. "Take Rawley for a drink. His wife is cheating on him, and he could use one." He remains where he is, tensed for action if it should break out, waiting as both men move away, the crowds parting for them.

Peri eyes the men unsympathetically before moving towards Xhabo, eying Mikhal and blowing a kiss as she adjusts her parcel. She watches the group, she offers an apologetic smile to Rawley before bowing her head to Xhabo, weight standing firm and tall, gracefully and patiently waiting for attention and the fuss to quiet down.

The dark man watches the crowd recede with indifference that those who know him might identify as verging on disappointment. He sees Peri - nods to her and retreats to a corner of the market where he sits at a table and negotiates with two large savage looking men who have been expecting him. After a while their subdued discussion appears to grow more animated. Apparently the two men want to renegotiate an existing price. Mikhal is resisting this in his emotionless way - but the trained eye might recognise the very real possibility of violence. And knowing Mikhal - probably another one sided affair. If half of Oldtown joined in against Mikhal it would probably still be one sided.

Xhabo smiles at the arrival of Peri, sighing with satisfaction as the men seem to accept his judgement for the time being. "Idiots," he mutters. But as pleased as he is to see Peri, his attention is split, his eyes follow Mikhal even before the new confrontation begins. He touches Peri's arm, then moves off to the table where the large brute sits with the two men. "You boys looks as if you could use a drink as well," he says, clearly breaking into the conversation. "On me." He waves to the scruffy looking man serving swill nearby, motioning to the table and holding up three fingers.

Peri moves with Xhabo, gracefully, seemingly content to be beside him. The box is still held, the fabric revealing a very elegantly made shoe-box sized pastel colored box with abalone inlay. A bit too nice for a salt wife. She tilts, to look at Mikhal leaning to whisper up into Xhabo's ear, touching his arm. Likely just informing him of the man's identity. She bows her head respectably and recovers the box in her arms, a little paranoidly.

Peri whispers: This is Black Mikhal, a Lord Bolton I believe. Very brutal and rough hewn.

The savage men look new to the Thieves market - but are newer to the business that they are in. They accept Xhabo's drink ingraciously failing to recognise the enforcers status in the market. This is plainly just a meeting place for them - but worst of all they are misjudging the extreme danger they are in by crossing Black Mikhal. His calm they mistake for weakness.

Mikhal acknowledges Xhabo's hospitality with a mere nod of his head which qualifies as 'polite' in the psychopath's behavioural repertoire. "The price we agreed upon stands. I do not renegotiate. This was made clear at very beginning," there is no threat in his voice immediately detectable but the lack of interest in the transaction should be warning enough. The lives of these men are obviously less important than the life of your average termite.

"We had to go through alot more than we thought to get your information pratt!" spits the ugly older man. They figure they have him outnumbered two to one.

A duo of pirates would be walking into the thieves market in a timid manner, looking around cautiously… All around. "Do you think he'll find us?" asks the younger one, probably having just turned eighteen by the looks of it. "No way, he's too much of an idiot." says the hairier, uglier one. Despite his reassurance he'd be looking the most jumpy, which contradicts what he'd have said. "B-But he found the others- He's /obviously/ going to find us… Cap'n's dead.." says the younger one still looking around cautiously. The hairy pirate would begin to pipe up, "It'll be f-" He'd be cut off as a large rock would fly through the air, striking him in the back of the head with a vile cracking sound. The younger pirate would look in horror before looking back over his shoulder.

Marching down the street, being followed by a man just as young as the pirate who's holding a bucket full of rocks, is Gromm, with a terrifyingly angry expression, one that could probably send a wolf running with its tail between its legs. He'd be breathing heavily, a large fresh cut running down his right cheek, adding onto his collection. "Get the fuck back here!" Gromm yells out marching forward. The young pirate simply shrieks in fright and surprise before looking forward and running off into the crowd. Gromm looks over to the young boy next to him, grabbing his bucket of rocks and pulling it out from his hands, drawing a dagger from under his vest and pushing it to his chest. "Get. Him." Gromm commands, growling as the young boy nods hastily before running off. Judging by the way the boy's holding the weapon, he hasn't a clue what he's doing, and he doesn't look like the type to even hang around Gromm.

Xhabo nods almost imperceptibly to Peri, eyeing Mikhal curiously. Then he regards the two strangers. He doesn't recognize them, and he's getting an inkling that they don't recognize him. The situation is threatening to boil over very quickly. He puts two fingers in his mouth, and lets out a shrill whistle. "Gentlemen, forgive me. I have been rude and not introduced myself. I am Xhabo Duna, a businessman here." Drawn by the whistle, several rough-looking men begin to filter out of the throngs, approaching the table, but keeping a reasonable distance from the table for the moment. "I am sure that this misunderstanding between you can be worked out. A contract was agreed to, yes? Tell me," he looks to Mikhal, "Was this agreement sealed in the Undercity?"

Peri touches the older man's shoulder "You do not want to renegotiate a contract it is.." she pauses, leaning to touch the older man's shoulder with her sizable chest "Unlucky. You could well offend the whole market, and there would be no mercy if he did as his family is renowned for." she pauses "They are known for flaying their hostages and victims and hanging the skin from their walls." she warns in almost a whisper "The Ironmen do not cross Boltons, what does this tell you?" she whispers, suggestively swaying her wide hips in a calm and toying fashion. Never once does her voice raise higher than enough to be heard by anyone not immediately near her, Xhabo, Mikhal, and the men.

"Our agreement was not made in your Undercity," Mikhal states simply. Mikhal regards the group and their approach impassively - he did not think this meeting place appropriate for their business but agreed to it knowing it would confer upon them no advantage. He places a pouch of coin on the table, "Where are the slavers? And who is leading them?" Black Mikhal asks simply.

With the overload of stimulus - the rough men - Peri telling them they might become tapestries on a psychotic families wall up north somewhere - they retreat "Fuck this!" says the older man who rises to leave with the younger man evidently welching as well. This is apparently a mistake as Mikhal rises touching his famous greatsword 'Malevolence'.

"Our deal - I will not let you leave until I have my information…" Mikhal says firmly. he then looks slightly distracted at Gromm. "Looks like you have other problems," he says to Xhabo managing a cynical smirk.

The massive man continues to growl, staring into the crowd before looking over noticing Mikhal and the others but looking back to the crowd once more. Within the crowd would be the sounds of a struggle, shouting and yelling, but the crowd would eventually disperse to see the two young men grunting, fighting upon the ground. Unable to manage to get the upper hand on one another.

People in the crowd who've scattered begin to bicker to one another, most maintaining their gaze upon the fight as some look over to Gromm, who's throwing aside the bucket of rocks and reaching over his shoulder, drawing a javelin. Gromm's growl turns to a quiet chuckle as he tosses the javelin up into the air, catching it again as he draws his arm back, sliding back his right foot as he lets out a loud, booming roar as he tosses the weapon. The spear like object soars through the air for a moment or two before impaling into the young pirates hip, having barely striked the other young man in the gut. The young pirate lets out a yell as Gromm begins to reach back for another javelin, three remaining in his sling.

Peri is quiet, "Gromm, please calm down." she yells, her breasts bobbing as she moves back to let the guys work it out. She isn't about to get killed for strangers. She weightily moves to try to avoid getting into a brawl.

And whilst Peri and the others are distracted by Gromms antics something violent transpires around Mikhal. A muffled scream can be heard. If one were to look back at the two men the younger man has his first and second index finger shoved into the older man's right and left nostrils respectively. The younger man has the coin purse shoved in his mouth - and the older man is struggling to say something to Mikhal - apparently the Bolton's case had been made and judgement was in his favor.

What's happening with Gromm and his young 'companion' isn't a brawl, atleast not anymore, someone's clearly going to die. The young pirate continues to yell out in pain, as the younger man below him simply watches in horror, fighting and struggling to remain alive. The young pirate would reach around shakily and draw his own dagger, slow enough to allow the younger man below him to drive his own dagger into the pirates stomach, tearing back and forth at whatever he can, blood and even a bit of guts spilling down onto him.

Gromm twists his right foot over to the side, ignoring Peri's demand and letting out another roar as he tosses his second javelin. The second javelin soars through the air much like the first, but rather than hitting the already doomed pirate, it'd rather fly into, and through, the side of the throat of the young man. However, Gromm doesn't seem to mind as he begins stomping over, chuckling grimly to himself as he reaches his right have around and draws his Scimitar, his movements slow as he seems to wish to prolong the pain of his victims. A wicked, victorious smile upon his face as he slams his foot down upon the older pirates head as he makes his way over, the head again, letting out a grotesque crunching and cracking sound, a indent left within the back of his head. He's not getting up.

Peri is quiet, not involving herself as she watches the violent men, instead slipping away. She seems to just melt out of the fight, trying to get situated, getting comfortable on a barrel.

Mikhal gets his information as the two men saunter off one with a coin purse jammed into his mouth and another with his friends fingers jammed up his nose and stuck there. He then turns to watch the spectacle of Gromm - not caring much for pirates (let them kill eachother). The enforcers under Xhabo would likely be looking to restore order in the undercity so a large number of men would be converging on both Mikhal and Gromm. As unlikely as the enforcers success would be in subduing either man - let alone both (fighting at the same time and worse possibly on the same side) Mikhal thinks better of it. "I think it best we move on," he suggests to Gromm. Knocking out an enforcer who grabs him with an unconventional weapon he appropriates from a street vendor (a frying pan) - Mikhal is heard to utter, "Even the little fish get fried…"

Gromm's gaze shifts over to Mikhal, he'd growl in annoyance before looking over to the group of enforcers, stopping in his tracks as he stares back to the approaching men, smiling. He'd open his mouth, gliding the tip of his tongue along his teeth as he stares them down. Gromm is big. Really, big. The oncoming enforcers would stop, freezing in place. From fright? Shock? The realization they won't win? Maybe even all of the above. "Turn and run." he says, reaching down and grabbing the hairy pirates carcass with his left hand, lifting up the body and swinging it back with his left hand before throwing it over with ease towards one of the enforcers, the body landing near them with a thump as it continues to bleed. The enforcers would begin to back off, not exactly retreating but not making a move against Gromm. Gromm chuckles grimly as he turns back and walks over to the man, reaching down with his left hand and grabbing hold of his javelins with his left hand, tearing them out of both men before bringing them around his shoulder and holstering them in their sling. He'd look over to Peri, giving her a surprisingly friendly nod before beginning to walk off, scimitar still in hand.

Peri uses Gromm as a shelter to slip off behind "Gromm you ruined my transaction." she scolds, her weight stretching as she walks, padding rather rapidly, to avoid a brawl if it breaks out.

Mikhal disappears into the shadows as soon as the other two leave. Time to go make someone else cry.

Gromm's head looks over to Peri, watching her keeping behind as he listens to her scolding him, lightly frowning. He'd reach over with his left hand, sliding his scimitar back into its scabbard, picking her up and bringing her up to sit upon his left shoulder, casually, bringing his arm around over her legs to keep her in place, "I'll buy you a drink and something to eat if you stop complaining." He says in a low tone, developing a light grin again as he shifts his gaze forwards, probably remembering his triumphant murder.

Peri SQUEALS at being picked up, dangling precariously "H-hey why are you carrying me?" she's heavier than she looks and one hell of a woman. "Gromm this is inappropriate and I don't like it." she offers, not complaining so much as being cut and dry with the enormous man.

"If I didn't you would fall behind. And you don't have to like it." Gromm says as he continues marching off. Sure, she may be heavier than she looks, but it still doesn't appear to be a problem for Gromm. "Do you want the food and drink or not?" he asks, frowning again slightly as he continues away, adjusting the way her carries her to be more comfortable for her. But he probably did it because it wasn't that comfortable for himself, as well.

Peri sighs a bit "Sure, but, I want something tasty." she whispers, voice soft. She seems quiet, her eyes closing as she settles "Riker will be angry you are carrying me away."

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