Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Location: The Bronze Boar

Documents were neatly sorted out before Patrick at the farthest table in the Boar, the most private of booth's that he could guarantee his trusty contacts. In a way the Boar had become Patrick's own secret operating spot in regards to whispers within the city, and so far his attempts to gain further notoriety have all met with a dead end. He'd been bold with his last stunt in regards to reaching out to those hidden away with shadows of Dust Town, but this time he had to be more careful when it came to the arrangement of shipments he wanted to change. "You say this one's come up short?" He pointed to a document of a local dealer which has failed to pay in part to his betters, no doubt his peers wouldn't be to fond of his recent habits if he were abusing his own shipments.

"The manifest shows he's scheduled to receive a certain package from another supplier, delivery is meant to arrive in the next few days." The brown haired man across from him explained with a finger pointed to another document. "I'd say this is your best bet here, this guy's been makin' a lot of deals in both the Dust Quarter as well as here in the Earth Quarter. He'll appreciate the gesture well enough to owe you a favor." Patrick looked at the document briefly with intrigued eyes, the next few documents also scanned as well while his informant remained patiently quiet.

"Better idea. Instead of changing just one shipment why not change them all?"

"Pardon?" The idea didn't seem to catch on like it did with Patrick apparently.

"Think of it like this," The bartender looked to informant with a grin, "Take all of the shipments headed to this man here. Rather than send it all to just one other person, branch out and separate the order among these other clients here instead."

"So what you're saying is..." The informant's eyes narrowed with interest.

"Bleed our bad dealer dry and send all his shipments to the other competitive dealers, and then not only will I have a few extra favors but also my ticket for an audience with one of their business investors."

"You're playing with fire man." The informant chuckled as he scooted all the sheets into a neat stack. "If you're not careful then somebody's gonna get burned."

"Luckily for me," Patrick smirked as he brought out a pouch filled with coins, "I've got nothin' to lose." With a gentle push the pouch slid across the table, right into the hands of the informant he'd spent the morning working with. "For your trouble, see that it all gets done without a hitch?"

"We'll see," The guy rose from his chair as he placed the documents in a side bag of his, "In the meantime keep a low profile okay? Your new 'friends' might not know how to take this gesture of kindness you're giving them, plus the dealer you're screwing over's well known for his not so forgiving temper."

"He doesn't scare me," Patrick shrugged with a wry smile, "Pretty sure I grew up dealin' with his lot anyways. Besides none of the investors nor suppliers are gonna miss him much anyways."

"Yeah, you hope." The man snorted with a chuckle as he headed on his way out, the pouch of coins tucked into his own coat pocket. Patrick sat there for a while as he thought long and hard about it.

Resupplying just one dealer with a bunch of goods wasn't a bad idea to begin with, but a whole group of dealers would've definitely sent a message. Now Patrick had to prepare his own way in, and simple bribery wasn't just going to do it. What did the dealer he was screwing over owe again? Seemed a fair petty sum compared to most outstanding debts, and if Patrick covered that as well then maybe he'd secure his own way into the group. What a nice turn of events that'd be actually.

Location: The Bronze Boar

It'd been another busy night at the Boar which needed Pat to help for the longest part, yet when the Break proved later than he'd intended Pat felt the need to head out. He did after all juggle two jobs and needed to head up towards the Glass Quarter to meet up at Theo's place, the Libertine was to be his next stop after he finished cleaning out the kitchen some. "Hey Pat," Daveth called as he pulled another full platter of food and drinks from the counter, "make sure you dump the waste bucket please?"

"Yeah no prob!" He called back to the business owner as he placed the last of his dishes on the cloth to dry, the bartender moved over to pick up the bucket and headed out the back entrance to the spot where they usually dumped their food particle waste. Lots of potato peelings were gonna be left there tonight, since potato stew seemed to be the rage with the approaching cold weather to expect. "After this it's go time." He reminded himself as he made out into the back alley, only to feel something hard smash into the back of his head with a brief shatter upon impact. Like the glass that splattered into shards everywhere, Patrick went down face first into the dirt as he lost his grip on both the bucket and reality. First there had been initial shock with the brief wave of pain that bolted through his noggin, and then from there his vision went dark before he even saw himself hit the ground.

He went down without the slightest clue as to who waited to ambush him...


Location: ?????

He finally stirred as he felt his entire head, neck, and back ache for whatever reason, and made some groans to signify that he'd started to finally come to. He heard a voice speak out to him within the ringing of his ears, a gruff and croaky voice that told him to wake up a few times. He opened his eyes and forced them to blink a few times, his ability to stretch actually limited with constraints that kept him tied down. He was stuck in a wooden chair, in some dank smelling basement of a sort with not but a lantern dangling from the ceiling above him. "Ugh..." He coughed a few times with the shake of his head, his eyes narrowed into the dark recesses of the room he was trapped in. "I've had kinder introductions." Patrick finally joked as someone stepped forward from the shadows, a lanky and hairy individual that looked a little strung out with sunken raccoon eyes. He stood about as tall as Patrick did, therefore he had to lean down to glare into Patrick's eyes.

"You know me?" He sounded like he asked but it seemed more like a guess than anything, and when he said this Patrick only raised an eyebrow with not a clue.

"Can't say I do. Unless you're plannin' on makin' me your sex slave-"

"Shut your mouth!" The strung out man demanded with a knife brought to Patrick's throat. "This is serious shit! You know who I am." Patrick remained petrified underneath the man's blade, his mind already sorted through the list of people who'd probably want him dead. Granted it wasn't a long list thankfully, but the fact this man looking nothing like the one at the top he quickly crossed the name Kar off that list. No Patrick knew who this was, otherwise he would've been a fool to think he didn't. This was the guy he'd screwed over several trials ago, the dealer that seemed to be bad for business as of late.

"Yeah. I know about you, don't got a clue who you are though." He finally admitted which made the man lessen his stance, still the blade remained pointed at him while the man breathed heavily.

"You ruined everything." He accused with the knife waved around, Patrick couldn't sink any further into his chair any more than he wanted to. "You took away my shipments, my supplies, you took it all!"

"I wouldn't go that far-" Pat tried to force a chuckle but the druggie snapped at him once again.

"You ruined me!" He bellowed loudly as he drove the knife downward into Patrick's right thigh. The bartender cried aloud as he felt the blade pierce the flesh and muscle of his leg then, a hand pressed hard over his mouth as his scream became muffled by his captor. "You did this! This is all you!! All you!!"

"Alright, alright, alright!!" Patrick cried out into the palm of the man's hand as the knife was slowly pulled out. "It was me! All me! I'm sorry! Sorry I ruined everythin!!" That was already enough to provoke the drug dealer further, already the lanky figure of the man twisted to throw his knife on the table next to Pat. He raised a hand into the air and balled it into a fist while his other grabbed Patrick by the collar of his shirt, and Patrick closed his eyes and flinched with the expectation to feel a rough sock into his face. Yet he didn't. The guy stood there for what felt like ages, while only a mere Bit passed by as he waited. With a heavy growl he threw his fist over his head instead and proceeded to throw a tantrum, pacing around Patrick while the bartender himself sat there both stun and terrified.

He had to think of something.

What could he do though? His wrists were tied down to the arms of this chair and his ankles to the legs, he was completely constrained to his chair with pretty efficient bonds. Should've known this guy would've gone to the extra extent of keeping him tied down, and now Patrick sat there watching his blood ooze and trickle out his thigh. The area of the stab felt warm and wet from the fluid, an alarming sensation he felt mixed within the fear and uncertainty. He was actually a hostage at this point, incapable of doing anything to get himself out of this situation. The enraged dealer had been slapping the backside of his head, frustrated as he seemed completely lost within his own little world. Was he in a high? Did he become strung out and act on an impulse? Either way the situation wasn't very good, and would've proceeded to become worse if Pat wasn't careful. "Listen," He murmured aloud just enough for man to hear, "I can help ya out no sweat, I've got money back home I can easily-"

"No!" The druggie bellowed with a throw of his hands downward. "No going anywhere, no going to get anything! You're stayin' here!"

"Okay." Pat tried to gesture a calm wave with his immobilized hands. "Alright, no need to go anywhere. Just tell me what I can do, what do I need to do?"

"Just sit there and shut up!" He commanded with the bloodied knife pointed to him again, Patrick immediately looked back down to his lap in silence. The guy then seemed to breathe heavily as he paced back and forth, and with a few muffled knocks heard from upstairs, both the dealer and Patrick looked up to the ceiling above them. Patrick then sank as deep into the chair as he could as his kidnapper approached with the knife close in his face. "Make any noises and I swear on Ilaren's name, I'll end you here and now."

Patrick nodded eagerly with horror in his eyes with hopes of convincing the man he'd be silent, and with the knife stabbed in the table next to him the dealer moved to climb up a staircase that took him above. Patrick could hear the footsteps above him as dust seemed to drizzle from the boards, his lower lip bitten as he looked from the bleeding wound over to the knife that created it. He couldn't move but if he had that knife he could get out of here, only question was how in Idalos was he going to grab it? He took in deep breaths and wriggled his wrists within the bonds, while muffled talking could be heard through the boards. Patrick had no way of knowing if this man's guest was a friend or not, and being discovered here would only complicate things. No. Patrick had to figure out a way out without involving someone else.

What could he do? The rope around his wrists was too tight to loosen his arms through, and he couldn't risk making noise by moving around the chair. Damn it! The knife was so damn close and yet, so far out of his miserable limit of a reach. How long was he going to remain down here? What was going to happen if he complied? There seemed no likely chance he'd walk out of here just a little roughed up, no somebody like this guy seemed liable to kill him by the time he was done. So how long until then? How much time did Patrick have? Currently he gave himself until the end of this man's visit with whoever arrived, and that meant he had to try whatever seemed possible to help with the situation. Patrick tried to lean over and winced from the pain, the muscle in his thigh ached as he felt the alternation in his body cause for more bleeding. "Shit!" He muttered quietly as he exchanged looks with the wound and the knife.

He only needed to lean in close enough to grab it and then maybe... Patrick tried again even when his left arm seemed to constrain him, his body limited to where he could only hover above the knife without being able to reach it. So grabbing it with his mouth seemed impossible at the moment, there had to be some other means of grabbing it he hadn't thought of. Perhaps... The idea seemed plausible but that proved risky, Patrick hadn't quite figured out Blinking in terms of items. He could easily try and Blink himself out of the chair? Could that work?

Only one way to find out; thus Patrick zoned his focus around the blade to see if he could manage.

He tried and he tried but no matter the amount of concentration he could put in, the space surrounding the knife didn't seem to imitate anything; thus his attempt to Blink the weapon into his hand proved failure at best. What was he to do? He hadn't found himself capable of creating portals able to pull things in, not in the way Alistair proved able to do when they met a while back. He had to think. Think of something that could get him out of here, should the company that arrived seem to leave with Patrick left alone with the drugged out psychopath upstairs.

Strange though how quiet the visit seemed to be considering how unplanned the timing had been, it seemed as though everyone above had been having a startling friendly conversation. Was the drug dealer good at acting? Feigning innocence and pretending he didn't have hostages in his basement? Patrick couldn't help but swallow hard as he watched the ceiling for a while, determined to at least figure out the course of the moment before things ran their course. It had sounded like he had a short length of time until their visit would come to an end, but little did he expect that he would become the main attraction of the company that had arrived. It may had been dark but Patrick could see well enough to determine the lightly colored hair the tall lanky man had, his clothes a little more fancier than those who would walk out the noble streets of the Glass Quarter.

Who was this cat? Why was the dealer so suddenly happy compared to before? "You're tellin' me pal." Patrick thought to himself in silence as he stared at the two blankly, almost forgetful to breathe as he watched the fashionable fellow grab a chair in front of him. For a trill he hesitated as he'd became completely dumbfounded at the turn of events, had this man come along to make subtle threats or actually negotiate partnerships? The bartender nodded slowly, still alert of the fact he was still the one tied down in a chair. Hold on... Patrick had tried making his arrangement for particular buyers, so that they'd owe him favor when the time came to play his cards right. So what did this guy mean when he encroached on their business deal, where they competitors or where they tied in with something greater?

Patrick's hair felt stiffly on end as he tried to keep from narrowing his eyes, his entire throat caught with a metaphysical lump that he nearly had to gulp down. "Yeah," He finally murmured with nervous nods, "yeah definitely. Friends are good." The price however to put the situation to right... Patrick dreaded that bit of detail there; aware of the fact he'd indeed dragged himself into an even bigger pile of shit than he probably intended. "Absolutely! What ever you want, I'll make sure to fix this." He agreed almost pleadingly as he nearly drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair nervously. Out of all the other times where Patrick pulled crazily stupid stunts, this had to definitely be the biggest one that's come back to bite him in the ass. And to make matters worse there was no older brother to help bail him out either, which meant Patrick had to play it smarter from this point onward.

For now, he thought, he would willingly comply and go along with this man's intentions.

Being wary must had a hell of a different meaning on his end, as Patrick obviously had more on his plate than just a bad deal gone wrong. He'd been hit on the backside of his head, kidnapped, and then stabbed in the leg by a drug dealer... who seemed very pissed at first until this other guy came along. Now Patrick had to play along and try to avoid getting himself in any more trouble. From the sound of it they were going to give him three tasks to accomplish, and only then would he be able to make amends with them for his little misbehavior.

"So you want this guy gone? Done." He responded with tension as he looked between the two men. "Just gimme a while to figure something out. I'll get rid of him for you." He promised as he looked back to the blue eyed individual, who seemed to smile as he reminded him of one thing. That they'd be watching. Which meant eyes would be on Patrick when he did this, and if he messed this up then he'd be a dead man for sure. With that reminder set to tone, the dealer stepped in front of Patrick and looked down at him hard. He was still so very angry, so torn apart by his interference. Patrick definitely got on this man's bad side, and he made it known with one last punch of his fist into the side of Patrick's head.

With just the enough force to back it, and probably with the amount of blood he'd lost, Patrick woke up later in his own bed somehow. His leg bandaged and the side of his head swollen, probably bruised from the hit he took from the dealer. But the good news was that he'd made it out alive, luckily, and best of all he now had to make up for the stupidity he'd demonstrated the other Trial.