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Path: pdxgate!ogicse!ucsd!swrinde!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!emory!hubcap!stehman
From: [e-mail] (Jeff Stehman)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Story:  Taking Care of Business
Keywords: A stroll through the city
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
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