Post by The Greater Evil on Sept 11, 2009 21:54:15 GMT -5
It was a dry, mirthless laugh and it died somewhere off in the repressively deepening shadows that stood like an open maw outside the passive glow of the two small lanterns. Within that small enclave of illumination a man stood in a well tailored suit with his arms folded behind his back calmly. In front of him were three men, two of whom were standing and flanking the third, who was sitting as if a King on a throne of the discarded chaff of society. In spite of this throne of trash, the man who sat upon it held himself with a regal and confident bearing…the mark of a man who is completely at ease with himself and his situation. To most the sound of that laugh would be terrifying.
Unfortunately for this “King” of the underworld the man standing across from him was by no means ordinary. As the “King” laughed the man who stood before him just stared at him placidly, his body relaxed but ready and his eyes continually assessing everything around him. Unlike most people from the surface world, such encompassing darkness did not intimidate, let alone frighten him. He felt as comfortable in it as he did in daylight, perhaps even more comfortable. Most felt as if he was a creature of pure darkness anyway, so why should such an environment feel like anything more than home to him ? As the man laughed a smirk slowly spread across his face until the “King” finally deemed to speak to him…his voice is quiet, scratchy…almost a raspy sound.
TK: So….it would seem as if I have the knowledge that you seek. If I were to deem you worthy of this information, what reward would I see in return ?
A slow grin pulled up at the corner of the mouth of the “King” as the man in the suit stood quietly and took measure of him. Although his expression was blank, his eyes were clearly calculating what he was dealing with…and the best way to buy him off. After a few moments he grins diabolically. He lets out a short chuckle of his own and responds, his voice smooth and calm.
M: Before we get to “payment” I think it’d be a gesture of good faith if I had something to refer to you as. Some sort of moniker or title.
The tunnel “King” angled his head to one side, a quizzical look passing across his face. This draws an expression of overt amusement from the man in the suit, although his posture doesn’t change any.
TK: Why do you want a name ?
Again the man in the suit chuckles at the reaction. He stands silently before giving an answer in a tone that is blatantly mocking, although not provocative.
M: It would seem inappropriate and rude to refer to you as “weird tunnel rat”. Good business decorum would certainly state as much. Besides, in order to get what I need from you it sort of requires your cooperation. It is somewhat more challenging to converse with a nameless person.
The “King” of the tunnel looks the man over for a moment and looks up to his right as one of his men leans over his shoulder and speaks into his ear. He smirks at whatever he’s told and looks back at the man.
TK: My comrade here observes to me that perhaps you should be the one offering the introduction; after all…it is you who is in foreign territory. You are, after all, my guest…not the other way around. He further observes that it would take very little effort to kill or kidnap you and take what we want in either case. You are the man at the disadvantage, not us.
The “King” and his two “guards” look at the man, their expressions smug and confident. One even goes so far as to pull a large and particularly nasty looking knife from his belt, running his finger up and down the blade as he glares at the man menacingly. The man in the suit looks from his Boss to him and back to his Boss, his expression unchanged…and noticeably unimpressed.
M: I realize that you see yourself as being at the advantage and be that as it may….or may not be…having your tunnel Chihuahua there shouldn’t be trying to intimidate me…for one thing it’s a waste of effort…for another it’s bad business practice…
The man with the knife takes a step forward before his boss lifts up an arm with an upraised finger. The man takes a step backwards, but keeps the knife in hand and continues to glare at the visitor to his boss and domain. The “King” sits silently for a moment and smirks before he laughs to himself.
TK: I like you. It takes a man of great confidence to stare death in the face and laugh. My man here assures me that he could kill you if need be. I’d like to see if he can fulfill that promise. You raise a good point though…it would be to the advantage of both of us to see what we can arrange here.
The man declines his head a bit in agreement before looking back up, straight into the eyes of the “King”.
M: Well then, perhaps your name then. I think it would make this a more fruitful conversation.
The “King” nods his head at his visitor and holds his arms out in a flourish to him.
TK: I am Rolan, King of this underground domain. And you would be ?
Rolan punctuates the statement with a short bow of his head before looking back up at the man in the suit, who nods his head in acknowledgement.
M: I am Damarest and I work for a man far more powerful than us both.
Rolan raises an eyebrow at him, perhaps impressed by the statement. His expression is hard to read. He looks up as his man whispers over his shoulder into his ear, his eyes momentarily darting back to Damarest before going back upwards again. After the man finishes, Rolan smiles and taps his fingers on his makeshift throne.
Rolan: My comrade here thinks you’re lying…that if you worked for who you claimed that he’d be here in front of us and not one of his two bit flunkies.
Damarest grins at the attempted insult before turning to Rolan. He points at the man who had attempted to insult him while speaking to the leader of the tunnel people.
Damarest: To insult me is not conducive to good negotiation. If you wish this to proceed well you should keep your attack dog muzzled…besides…he’s plotting against you. In fact, he has a blade concealed on his person and intends to slit your throat at a time of distraction.
Damarest pauses and allows his words to sink in. He watches Rolan's mind do the calculations...and watches Smyth stand rigidly, as if doing so somehow makes him look more innocent. Once Damarest has decided that his words have had the desired effect, he speaks again...his voice is calm, low and very persuasive.
Damarest: In fact…I would imagine that he will keep attempting to escalate this situation between us, and when he feels you are vulnerable enough he will reach from behind you with his blade, yank back your head and slit you open from ear to ear. Furthermore, while he does so, those in conspiracy with him will kill your other guard and remove anyone else who can thwart them in a quick but violent manner. This can, of course, be avoided…
The man who had whispered to Rolan instantaneously blanches, his face draining of all color. He leans over and whispers something into Rolan’s ear only to have Rolan glare up at him.
Rolan: Perhaps Smyth, you should speak to Mr. Damarest yourself. It seems that he’s inclined to believe that your intentions are less than honorable. While I surely would hate to believe that, he makes a compelling case for it…of course it doesn’t help you that your reaction made you look guilty as hell…
Smyth looks from Damarest to Rolan and back to Damarest before a knife disappears in his hand. Moments later he is tipping over backwards and thumps to the ground in a heap, gasping like a grounded fish due to the knife protruding from his throat. Rolan looks from Smyth to Damarest in surprise at the speed at which the entire incident occurred, only to see Damarest slowly placing his hands behind his back. Rolan starts to stand up, but it knocked to the ground and covered by his other guard as another man lunges over the back of the throne, only to go flying over and landing in a heap on the ground. All around them in the darkness are the brief sounds of surprise, followed by the silence of death. Through this all Damarest stands, calmly observing all that is going on around him and once the entire brief but violent incident comes to an end he holds a single hand up and flicks his hand forwards. Seconds later a figure in full black combat gear steps from the shadows and walks up to his side, stopping to lean forward and receive some sort of statement from Damarest. Damarest whispers something into his ear and flicks his hand backwards and the man silently steps back into the shadows and disappears. Damarest looks down at Rolan, whose face is covered in a look of shock. Damarest chuckles at this and walks past him, jumping up nimbly onto the “throne” before stepping off and disappearing momentarily into the shadows behind. As he does this, Rolan’s man lets him up and the leader of the tunnel begins to clean himself off.
Rolan: I’ve known Smyth for years and he has always been loyal…how did you know ?
Damarest silently emerges from the shadows, his knife clean and shining in the dim light. He steps over the “throne” and back to the other side and walks up to Rolan before stepping in front of him. He slides the knife back into the forearm sheath and looks the leader dead in the face, his eyes glimmering demonically in the low light.
Damarest: His mouth lied…his eyes spoke otherwise.
Rolan stares at Damarest for a moment and extends his hand, holding out what appears to be a memory unit. Damarest extends a hand and the two men shake, with Rolan passing it to him without a word. Damarest takes it and tucks it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He looks back up at Rolan, but utters no statements. Rolan stands silently for a moment before taking a step backwards, melding back into the shadows. As he disappears back into the inky blackness he utters a simple phrase.
Rolan: Within you shall find the truth.
Damarest stands silently for a moment before he to steps backwards, melding black into the blackness…the last thing heard before all is enveloped in darkness is the sound of his blood chilling laughter…and it signifies victory…
And death.
Unfortunately for this “King” of the underworld the man standing across from him was by no means ordinary. As the “King” laughed the man who stood before him just stared at him placidly, his body relaxed but ready and his eyes continually assessing everything around him. Unlike most people from the surface world, such encompassing darkness did not intimidate, let alone frighten him. He felt as comfortable in it as he did in daylight, perhaps even more comfortable. Most felt as if he was a creature of pure darkness anyway, so why should such an environment feel like anything more than home to him ? As the man laughed a smirk slowly spread across his face until the “King” finally deemed to speak to him…his voice is quiet, scratchy…almost a raspy sound.
TK: So….it would seem as if I have the knowledge that you seek. If I were to deem you worthy of this information, what reward would I see in return ?
A slow grin pulled up at the corner of the mouth of the “King” as the man in the suit stood quietly and took measure of him. Although his expression was blank, his eyes were clearly calculating what he was dealing with…and the best way to buy him off. After a few moments he grins diabolically. He lets out a short chuckle of his own and responds, his voice smooth and calm.
M: Before we get to “payment” I think it’d be a gesture of good faith if I had something to refer to you as. Some sort of moniker or title.
The tunnel “King” angled his head to one side, a quizzical look passing across his face. This draws an expression of overt amusement from the man in the suit, although his posture doesn’t change any.
TK: Why do you want a name ?
Again the man in the suit chuckles at the reaction. He stands silently before giving an answer in a tone that is blatantly mocking, although not provocative.
M: It would seem inappropriate and rude to refer to you as “weird tunnel rat”. Good business decorum would certainly state as much. Besides, in order to get what I need from you it sort of requires your cooperation. It is somewhat more challenging to converse with a nameless person.
The “King” of the tunnel looks the man over for a moment and looks up to his right as one of his men leans over his shoulder and speaks into his ear. He smirks at whatever he’s told and looks back at the man.
TK: My comrade here observes to me that perhaps you should be the one offering the introduction; after all…it is you who is in foreign territory. You are, after all, my guest…not the other way around. He further observes that it would take very little effort to kill or kidnap you and take what we want in either case. You are the man at the disadvantage, not us.
The “King” and his two “guards” look at the man, their expressions smug and confident. One even goes so far as to pull a large and particularly nasty looking knife from his belt, running his finger up and down the blade as he glares at the man menacingly. The man in the suit looks from his Boss to him and back to his Boss, his expression unchanged…and noticeably unimpressed.
M: I realize that you see yourself as being at the advantage and be that as it may….or may not be…having your tunnel Chihuahua there shouldn’t be trying to intimidate me…for one thing it’s a waste of effort…for another it’s bad business practice…
The man with the knife takes a step forward before his boss lifts up an arm with an upraised finger. The man takes a step backwards, but keeps the knife in hand and continues to glare at the visitor to his boss and domain. The “King” sits silently for a moment and smirks before he laughs to himself.
TK: I like you. It takes a man of great confidence to stare death in the face and laugh. My man here assures me that he could kill you if need be. I’d like to see if he can fulfill that promise. You raise a good point though…it would be to the advantage of both of us to see what we can arrange here.
The man declines his head a bit in agreement before looking back up, straight into the eyes of the “King”.
M: Well then, perhaps your name then. I think it would make this a more fruitful conversation.
The “King” nods his head at his visitor and holds his arms out in a flourish to him.
TK: I am Rolan, King of this underground domain. And you would be ?
Rolan punctuates the statement with a short bow of his head before looking back up at the man in the suit, who nods his head in acknowledgement.
M: I am Damarest and I work for a man far more powerful than us both.
Rolan raises an eyebrow at him, perhaps impressed by the statement. His expression is hard to read. He looks up as his man whispers over his shoulder into his ear, his eyes momentarily darting back to Damarest before going back upwards again. After the man finishes, Rolan smiles and taps his fingers on his makeshift throne.
Rolan: My comrade here thinks you’re lying…that if you worked for who you claimed that he’d be here in front of us and not one of his two bit flunkies.
Damarest grins at the attempted insult before turning to Rolan. He points at the man who had attempted to insult him while speaking to the leader of the tunnel people.
Damarest: To insult me is not conducive to good negotiation. If you wish this to proceed well you should keep your attack dog muzzled…besides…he’s plotting against you. In fact, he has a blade concealed on his person and intends to slit your throat at a time of distraction.
Damarest pauses and allows his words to sink in. He watches Rolan's mind do the calculations...and watches Smyth stand rigidly, as if doing so somehow makes him look more innocent. Once Damarest has decided that his words have had the desired effect, he speaks again...his voice is calm, low and very persuasive.
Damarest: In fact…I would imagine that he will keep attempting to escalate this situation between us, and when he feels you are vulnerable enough he will reach from behind you with his blade, yank back your head and slit you open from ear to ear. Furthermore, while he does so, those in conspiracy with him will kill your other guard and remove anyone else who can thwart them in a quick but violent manner. This can, of course, be avoided…
The man who had whispered to Rolan instantaneously blanches, his face draining of all color. He leans over and whispers something into Rolan’s ear only to have Rolan glare up at him.
Rolan: Perhaps Smyth, you should speak to Mr. Damarest yourself. It seems that he’s inclined to believe that your intentions are less than honorable. While I surely would hate to believe that, he makes a compelling case for it…of course it doesn’t help you that your reaction made you look guilty as hell…
Smyth looks from Damarest to Rolan and back to Damarest before a knife disappears in his hand. Moments later he is tipping over backwards and thumps to the ground in a heap, gasping like a grounded fish due to the knife protruding from his throat. Rolan looks from Smyth to Damarest in surprise at the speed at which the entire incident occurred, only to see Damarest slowly placing his hands behind his back. Rolan starts to stand up, but it knocked to the ground and covered by his other guard as another man lunges over the back of the throne, only to go flying over and landing in a heap on the ground. All around them in the darkness are the brief sounds of surprise, followed by the silence of death. Through this all Damarest stands, calmly observing all that is going on around him and once the entire brief but violent incident comes to an end he holds a single hand up and flicks his hand forwards. Seconds later a figure in full black combat gear steps from the shadows and walks up to his side, stopping to lean forward and receive some sort of statement from Damarest. Damarest whispers something into his ear and flicks his hand backwards and the man silently steps back into the shadows and disappears. Damarest looks down at Rolan, whose face is covered in a look of shock. Damarest chuckles at this and walks past him, jumping up nimbly onto the “throne” before stepping off and disappearing momentarily into the shadows behind. As he does this, Rolan’s man lets him up and the leader of the tunnel begins to clean himself off.
Rolan: I’ve known Smyth for years and he has always been loyal…how did you know ?
Damarest silently emerges from the shadows, his knife clean and shining in the dim light. He steps over the “throne” and back to the other side and walks up to Rolan before stepping in front of him. He slides the knife back into the forearm sheath and looks the leader dead in the face, his eyes glimmering demonically in the low light.
Damarest: His mouth lied…his eyes spoke otherwise.
Rolan stares at Damarest for a moment and extends his hand, holding out what appears to be a memory unit. Damarest extends a hand and the two men shake, with Rolan passing it to him without a word. Damarest takes it and tucks it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He looks back up at Rolan, but utters no statements. Rolan stands silently for a moment before taking a step backwards, melding back into the shadows. As he disappears back into the inky blackness he utters a simple phrase.
Rolan: Within you shall find the truth.
Damarest stands silently for a moment before he to steps backwards, melding black into the blackness…the last thing heard before all is enveloped in darkness is the sound of his blood chilling laughter…and it signifies victory…
And death.