"So you were defeated by an unarmed hill-folk and a lone hound" Vinkt's mood had certainly taken a turn for the worse. He loudly chewed a Hazelnut taken from a bowl set upon his table. A small pile of shells had already begun to form and it would likely only grow larger as the day would pass.
"Not defeated, Threatened, She pulled a sword on us, in broad daylight! And it was a magical sword too!" A bald thick skinned grass lander continued his somewhat true, a little bit theatrical retelling, of the events which transpired the last hour. Behind him four other hooded figures nodded along.
"The difference being..?" The bald man tried to come up with an answer but couldn't. He wanted to say something. But telling his superior that he did not act out of the fear he might lose wasn't exactly the best way to ensure a stable employment, especially in the criminal underworld.
"You showed weakness today, Benjen" Vinkt looked out the window to the somber port. For now the guild controlled this area, for now his guild ruled in the islands shadow but for how long? Ever since the other more renowned guilds had arrived to the island their grasp had begun to slip. The sword guild, the house of coin and even the ships of the anglers guild who had begun to dock at port were all a threat to their position. Weak links like Benjen weren't good but they weren't in a position to lose more resources. "Do not disappoint me again"
Benjen nodded, then sheepishly bowed an action not often seen in the guild. But that had become a common sight on this island's chapter ever since Vinkt became its vice leader. Vinkt had been born into nobility, and so the customs of the upper class had always carried favour in his actions. Even now when he lived in exile he found a way to keep the familiar etiquette going.
"The hill-folk and hound are not worth the trouble for now, however they will have to be removed before Tulomon comes back." The leader of the knife guilds whereabouts were unknown to most of the islanders, it was said that he only appeared in public once every month and never for too long. Where he went only Vinkt and a handful others in the guild knew. "No, the person who has wronged the guilds good name most on this day is that crooked old mage…"
For just a second Berjen wondered who exactly his hill folk master was speaking of, but he realised that it was a wiser decision to just go with the flow. "What are your orders?"
"Find the mage, we'll deal with the other issue later." For now the biggest problem ailing this chapter of the knife guild was the lack of funds. The flow of coin on the island wasn't steady, they had to compete with both the sword guild and the house of coin for business and their supposed leader was never around to issue orders or send for reinforcements from the main land, he was too busy with his own hobbies to worry about his actual job. And even though Vinkt did not want to admit it he had wasted a little too much coin on his bets with the old mage.
"You won't have to go very far to find him" Jakurk Mianta sat by the opened window, with a large heavy bag of coin atop the table and a very stressed hill-folk at his side. In an alley way outside was a hound ready with a sword.
"Jakurk Mianta, I suppose you're not here to play another round?" Vinkt became cool, collected, the rampaging waves of thoughts within his small head seized at the impossible situation which had just developed. Berjen reached for his knife but Vinkt stopped him with the wave of his hand.
"Not exactly, we're here to peacefully sort out the unfortunate circumstances we have both found ourselves in and while we're at it settle a debt" Jakurk loosened the reins on the somewhat large leather pouch and a wave of silver coins ran out across the wooden table. Quite a few trickled down onto the floor. It caught the eyes of most of the bystanders.
"Im listening" The melody of trinkeling coins was like a bewildering chorus to those poor souls lacking in funds. Vinkt felt a tranquil happiness at its sight almost like half of it didn't originally belong to him.
"You're not a fan of losing coins, and I'm not a fan of waking up with a knife to my throat, so what do you say we make amends?" The offer was nice and simple, and should it go through without difficulty then the two groups would never have to interact again.
"The coin for your life, and that murderer's debt? is that it?" The words were meant to throw the mage of guard. Vinkt seriously doubted that Tristin would tell anyone the full story of how his debt had come to spiral sky high. But even then Jakurk's expression remained unreadable.
"A murderer?" No matter how you looked at it the hill folk was too small, too pitiful to be a killer. But appearances could be deceiving.
"The debt you're so graciously willing to pay is the product of three deaths, cover ups mind you, but expensive none the less" Vinkt remembered every big job which had transpired on the island. The Daehult job was one of his favorites. So much mystery and so much coin. A missing brother and three witnesses dead.
"So? Are you sure you want to help a murderer?" Vinkt smiled as he rocked back and forth in his chair. If possible he'd like to keep the hill folk in debt, the matter of the mage could be easily solved with a little finesse.
"It depends.. Tristin, did you kill those people?" Jakurk turned to face his newest party member. Who held his head down as his own fate was being discussed. He did not want to be here. He had no idea that the mage would drag him all the way here to settle his debt. That such a thing was even possible at this stage. He should have come clean at the start. Should have told his whole story but he couldn't. All that was left to do was to tell the truth. "Yes. Yes I did"
"Well now that you have your answer I'm sure we can come to a more sound agreement, If you leave the hill folks debt as is, I'd be willing to just take the coin without any further escalations" The quiet pub was a two story building. A fancy inside balcony overlooked the bar area upon which four cloaked men readied their cross bows. Vinkt shifted his hand on his table giving a signal to Benjen to begin a count down. He would fill the mage with arrows no matter his choice.
"No, I'm sure there's enough coin for my friend's debt and enough coin to repair that balcony of yours." Just then four cloaked men got up from their seats above to fire. At the same time a Hound cleaved through the lone wooden support pillar for the balcony, sending quite a large part of the floor above crashing down upon the bar. The bolts from the cross bow still flew but they hit only Jakurk's seat, the table, the bag of coins and a poor seagull outside the window.
The expensive bottles of liquor in the bar shattered and both liquor and southern tea spilled out across the rubble. A torch helped create a small fire which Benjen was quick to attempt to put out.
"I take it we have ourselves a deal" Jakurk remained unfazed and unbothered by the burning room around him. The small mind game, and little hints of strategy which had played out between him and Vinkt had resulted in his victory.
"Deal" Vinkt stretched out a tired hand, his face contorted as if a moment away from a violent outburst. He practically quivered as he pulled the heavy pouch of coin over to his side. It was his loss, and quite the pathetic one as well.
The three adventurers would leave as fast as they had come. Jakurk did not bother to look back, he was already focused on other matters such as if he could trust his supposed murder of a companion. Tristin couldn't quite believe what had happened. Things had been resolved so quickly and yet left him with quite a few troubles. Opip looked back once as she closed the door on the rubble filled joint "Sorry, for the balcony" Then she continued up the road with her comrades unaware of most of the revelations of the discussion inside the now burning pub.
The pub was as quiet as a grave. The fire had quickly gone out luckily before it reached any of the spilled alcohol. Benjen drew his knife and hurried towards the door, a certain rage boiling beneath his dark brown eyes.
"Stop" Vinkt had stopped him just as he reached the door. "We have no quarrel with them anymore, anything you do to them now will be outside of guild jurisdiction" Vinkt was not satisfied the money was not enough, half the bag had just been pebbles picked up from the street. The loss of the indebted hill-folk stung, but he was wise enough to know that nothing good could come from meddling with that adventurer party, at least for now.
"So you're just gonna let them get away with this" Benjen raised his hand towards the destroyed upper floor and then down to the ruble on the floor. He was furious and he was far from happy with the outcome of the deal.
"We are" Vinkt gave the pouch of coins to one of his confidants who scurried away to the warehouse attached to the back of the tavern. There was the true Guild hall of the Knife guild where some thirty shady individuals lived and worked. Benjen looked as if he was to say something but instead he quietly exited the building, his knife now deep down in its scabbard. A bottle one which hadn't been broken was all he carried with him out onto the street.
"I can see it!" Opip stood at the very front of the party overlooking an open field in the middle of the island. There a mighty hill rose up from the earth which spread out like a green spine on the island back. Engraved into this spine was a large fortress of fourth dynasty design. The ruins of old buildings covered by both moss and grass littered the ground in front of the fortress gate.
Tents in a myriad of colour clung to the road. Small shops stood established at most of the dungeon's entrances. Small guard patrols made their way around the miniature village and there were plenty of adventurers both browsing for wares, bartering for goods and making plans to descend the dungeon.
The fortress itself was engraved into the hill. It had once supported two outer walls, several spiraling towers and large halls and chambers deep within its mountain husk. Now it was a ruin of the past broken walls, fallen towers engulfed by nature holes and pathways where there was once stone and overgrown sculpture of ancient splendor. This was a dungeon, The black Dungeon of Rävnäs.