Arkin & Katya’s Wild Ride
The Nameless take the Gray Cloaks’ base by storm.
Fire!
Fickle Flames Fry Fortress, Foul Fighting Formulations!
The GRAY CLOAK BASE OF OPERATIONS beneath their FORMER WATCH HOUSE has suffered a CATASTROPHIC ACCIDENTAL FIRE that NOBODY HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH.
Lost within the blaze were PLANS OF ATTACK AGAINST VOID SEA WRESTLING, evidence of BRIBERY AND BETRAYAL, information on AN UNNAMED GANG AND THEIR SECRET HIDEOUT, an upcoming RED SASH ALLIANCE, and plans for a WEB OF SNIPERS NESTS THROUGHOUT SIX TOWERS. Likewise slain within the inferno were AN UNMASKED MEMBER OF THE WRAITHS THIEVES GUILD, a VAMPIRE, and a STORE OF EXPLOSIVES.
Allegations that the Wraith was re-masked, saved from the vampire, and served as a negotiation point between the Wraiths and the Unnamed Thieves Guild for a BOOK OF LEVIATHAN ROUTES (possibly to serve as leverage against Lord Strangford) are correct but unconfirmed and unknown to all non-supernatural parties.
Two DISGRACED ACADEMICIANS were surprised SCOUTING OUT THE BASE by returning GRAY CLOAKS (who had left their posts at the dark lure of THE DEADWINDS FIDDLER, commissioned specially from the CIRCLE OF FLAME). Potential fatalities were diffused when an experimental HEARTCALM BOMB sufficiently intoxicated all parties, such that they parted amicably. Reports at time of printing suggest that one academician has suffered a DRUG-INDUCED CRISIS OF CONSCIENCE.
This Duskvollian Life: V-Sea-W
And now, another edition of THIS DUSKVOLIAN LIFE
Walking into Void Sea Wrestling is an electrifying experience. The sporting environment makes for a rowdy crowd, and the larger-than-life characters in the fight pit beg for you to cheer or boo them with all your strength.
But for Valanthe A. and other Red Sash students, Void Sea Wrestling has a different appeal altogether.
“They really are the nicest people to sell drugs to,” says Valanthe, her Red Sash uniform hidden behind an unobtrusive jump suit as she stands by a derelict pillar, “Everyone here is just really into them. Depressants, stimulants . . . I mean, I can barely keep myself topped off with Heartcalm, and that stuff can kill you.”
Before the change in management, Void Sea Wrestling had been an unofficial narcotics market, run by the Red Sashes with tacit permission from the Gray Cloaks. You might think the ouster and change in management would have hurt the trade, but you’d be wrong.
“I don’t think they even knew we were here,” confesses Valanthe as she hands a packet of powder to cheering fans of Boss Bigman, “As soon as the Gray Cloaks were out, people stopped coming around and asking for the cut for management. So, we kept the full take for the night.”
But all of that changed when all the gate money from Void Sea Wrestling’s Boss Bigman vs. Cactus Joe vanished, taken by a second-rate second-story worker. Now, new management is cracking down.
“Uh, yeah, they came and they said, uh, yeah, that we’d have to . . . yeah,” stutters Valanthe, clearly flustered at the recollection, “One of them had these really piercing eyes and strong yet gentle hands and . . . I mean . . . yeah . . .”
What will the new management bring to the young community of enterprising Red Sash drug dealers? We’ll get into that on the first chapter of our series on Drugs and Dealers, next week.
‘twas Midnight
‘Twas midnight in Duskwall, and all through Six Towers
A gang war was raging, all places and hours;
The fight pits were roaring, the gamblers bet high,
Hoping to cash out ere bullets start to fly;
Void Sea Wrestling buzzed with joy and with coins,
(A thing to make Lord Strangford hot in his loins);
And Red Sashes passed through the crowd to and fro
Making some side cash (which the owners don’t know)
But, off in an alleyway, hidden and armed,
Some Gray Cloaks are lurking, intent to do harm!
They’re waiting for a moment best opportune
To deal V-Sea-Dub a most grievous wound
The cries of the wrestlers, the shouts of the fans
Gave sonic cover to their dastardly plans
When, suddenly issuing forth from a house
Came sneaking and squeaking a robotic mouse!
It crept to a Gray Cloak in weapons arrayed
And to his bare flesh applied a mighty taze!
This served as a signal to those hidden near
And a voice cried commands, as the Grays blanched in fear:
“Fire, Katya! Now, Arcade! Stab quick, Talitha!
Edvard, throw the bomb! Call ghosts, Orianna!
Cooper and Arcade, call the Gondoliers in!
Adric, calm the crowd! Get your mouse, Arkin!”
The bombs, how they blew! The blades, how they bit!
The Gray Cloaks fought and bled and died and ate shit!
Some survivors fought through their foe’s hidden ranks
While their fellows fell to the ghosts and the shanks
And as the last Gray Cloak fled into the streets
As terror and horror gave wings to his feet
He heard a last battle-cry into the night,
“You want Six Towers, Gray Cloaks? Ready for a fight!”