3/18/2002 Logfile from Akarian Dawn Raughir RATS! Dusk has over taken the day outside, yet business does not change. The crowded tap room is fill with roudy sailors, drunken soliders, and a dozen scantily clad barmaids. The narrow room is windowless, and only a few smokey lanterns provide light up near the bar itself. Shadows cling to the walls, they hide under tables, and slither around corners. Of late, there seems to be more rats here than in the recent past. Every now and then one scuttles by in the open. *Scrunch* The sickening sound of a heavy boot crushing the head of a rat rings out in the general din of the room. The booted foot is that of Anhadet, the blood oozing out from underfoot staining the wood a bright crimson. The owner of The Counting House Tavern commands some attention as he arrives from the back gambling room. Eyes flash at once to the bar, seeking someone. Behind the bar stands a scrawny fellow named Gion. Gion has worked for Anhadet for many years, but never has he really become important or knowledgable of things other than tending bar or ordering booze. Tonight he stands handing drinks to customers, a toothpick planted in his mouth, and a scowl over his face. The question now is, 'Where is Vergoz?' Vergoz the Vomit, another bartender of the Counting House, is nowhere to be seen. That in itself is incredible. Supposidly the hugely obese fellow should be working tonight, but from the looks of things he is not doing so. The buzz of Anhadet's arrival amongst the employees is the strongest, their eyes all uplifting and watching the entrace of the old man... Twisting his foot on the rat, the last few unbroken bones snap and crack. "Someone clean this up before it starts to stink." He commands toward the bar to any of his employees listening. He stops Gion before he can tend to the rat with an out strecthed hand. "Hold Gion, not you." His robes float about him like a fog as he heads behind the bar. "Speaking of stink, where is The Vomit at tonight. He should be working." His tone is like that on a razors edge, it could slip to either side. He scans the room once more, half expecting to find Vergoz passed out under one of the tables. "In the back," Gion answers, his head nodding toward another employee that goes to tend to the rat. "Jelob!" barks Gion, "Go get fattass, wouldya?" He grunts, watching the young man, Jelob, turns and start off toward the 'back.' "He's not been quite so fat-lipped these days, boss. Worried that that fancy fellow might come back and kick the hell out of him again." He shrugs, "Never keeps him from eating though..." With folded arms Anhadet waits for the arrival of fat-ass. "I had a word with Cezayir about the whole thing. Its time I get hte situation straight. I'll not tollerate The Law comming in here beating up my men. Lets hope for Vergoz's sake that he didn't provoke them." Another rat darts past the foot of Anhadet, this time too quick to be stomped on. "And get some more damn cats in here to take care of this problem Gion!" "Ahh..." starts Gion, "Sure boss. Cats." He stands there silent for a moment, thinking to himself. Meanwhile, Jelob returns, a huge smile on the teenager's face. "He's mighty pissed. I tell ya that," he says. Moving past Gion and Anhadet into the bar afterward. Gion shrugs, "Who gives a good damn if he's pissed or not. Now go get some cats to clean up these rats!" Jelob shrugs, turning toward the exit to do as he's told. There is a great string of profanity that emulates from where Vergoz probably is. Following those words is the man himself, lumbering from a wide door behind the bar. "Dammit Gion. This better be good..." He jerks up his pants that were apparently down just a few moments ago, tying the small rope into a hasty knot to keep them up properly. Behind him follows what one could suspect is a whore, dressed quite leisurely and while ugly, not nearly ugly enough to do anything of her own free will with this monstrosity. Vergoz yells, "I ought to smack you a good one you bastard!" His eyes somehow do not quite see Anhadet yet... Anhadet takes one step toward Vergoz, his cane lifting into the air, and whistling down at the knuckles of the fat man before him. Hissing, his voice is both loud and quite at the same time. Those around the bar closest to the event turn their eyes downwards to their drinks, but lift their ears to better overhear. "Its you that deserved the smack." And that is just what he intends with his cane. The shadow behind the bar darken slightly, the lanterns flicking, as if afraid of the old man's wrath. "What the hell is going on here Vergoz! You have 60 second to explain youself, and to explain what Judicator Cezayir Asfarix was doing in here the other day." Vergoz jumps, or at least attempts to, as the cane slaps him across the knee. He yelps loudly, his fat hands immediately rubbing his knee fevorishly. "Owww," he complains, "I am sorry boss. I was... making some orders in the back for some booze... that's all..." The fat man starts to stammer, forgetting his knee after the initial shock of getting hit. Lifting both hands toward Anhadet, he attempts to explain. "I have no clue. They just came in and started beating the shit out of me." He lowers his voice, whispering, "They wanted to know about some missing Durnalian shipments..." Anhadet lowers the cane to the floor, as if done, then suddenly with an audible *click* a blade pops out of the end of it. The razor sharp tip slowly lifts from the floor. Anhadet's face doesn't change, nothing changes, the crowd seems fozen, the yelling and singing seems to skip, only the rising cane-tip seems to move. Up between the legs of the vermin Vergoz it moves, stopping only an inch from those more prizes of parts. "Continue", explains Anhadet. Vergoz's eyes open, extremely wide, a great look of concern crossing his face. His mouth hangs wide open, his lungs attempting to form words, but cause nothing more than deep breaths. Amazingly, Vergoz finally fights off his fear, echoing hushed words to Anhadet. "I did right," he starts, "I did what you'd wanted, boss. I swear... I heard about that Hida officer trying to bust your ... chops. I slipped his name to 'em. Said I heard it from some rotten sailors." The blade only quivers mid-air. The dark orbs of Anhadet's eyes seem to avoid the lamp light, no relection is seen in them. "And these shipments? You work for me Vergoz, not yourself. I'll not tolerate any freelancing. Is that understood?" Several of the men, including Gion move away in sympathic pain, not wishing to see the results if Vergoz upsets Anhadet. "I'm a resonible man Vergoz. If I find out you are starting up something of your own, without my permisson, that will displease me very much." The cane quivers again, "However, if I find, suddenly that we have some new Durnalian products on the shelves, then I will be most pleased." He stares intently at the fat man. Vergoz shakes his head, "No boss. I would do nothing without your say-so." He smiles weakly, although his quite clear he quivers in fear. "I am not quite bright enough to do stuff like that, boss." He takes a large swallow, looking around, hoping no one is watching this. Too bad for his manhood, which seems to be beaten to a pulp every week these days. "But I think I might be able to get some fine wines and such in here boss. I think I know how to find them for you, dirt cheap." Anhadet lowers the cane, "Good, I knew I could count on you. Make sure you get those wines in here for less than dirt cheap, understand me?" He then takes a single half step to the side. Suddenly he lunges forward with his cane, throwing it like some short spear right between the legs of Vergoz... It misses. Or better said it hit its target. The cane shutters as it sticks into the floor, a rat squewered on the end of it. The blood from the rat runs slowly toward the feet of the bartender known as The Vomit. "I'll not tollerate a rat." Vergoz takes a step backward, attempting to clear the cane. "Yeah," the fat man says, or simply all he can say. "I get to work on those wines right now, boss." Running a hand over his face, the sweat seems to drip off him everywhere now. "Right away." 'Quickly' he turns, moving past Gion, and almost knocking him over, while rushing toward the exit of the tavern and his newest mission from Anhadet. Anhadet grabs the cane, the blade vanishing inside the shaft at the touch of a button. The room errupts back into its normal chaos. Finially the nightime band as set up and begins to play a well known, and well liked sea chantey. Already people are forgetting the encounter. Beer flows, the women smile, and everyone seem happy here in Anhadet's Yard. The old man follows after Vergoz slowly, at a leasuirely pace, saying his hellos to those he passes.