Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2015 9:07:58 GMT -5
There were three guards of his personal 6 that Stephane trusted above all others. Two of which stood either side of him at that moment. While they did not wear the medallions of their knighthood positions, and while they wore tunics instead of bucklers and shirts, and while they wore knives instead of swords they were easily recognised at the height of their game. Dangerous, intimidating, big and well muscles men. These two men were approximately Stephane’s age, both were ambitious, both were good at taking orders and both stood before the seated Prince like some sort of mobsters protecting their Don. Neither of the men flinched when a grubby, timid and round man stumbled up the path between them.
Stephane was sat on a bench, on the dock port. He was in the trading quarter, well protected and well known here. His cousin may have the royals eating out of her overflowing hand, but Stephane knew this city and the undercurrent. And the man that came towards him now, the overgrown and balding man was one of his men. A man who knew, he had done something so very, very wrong and was likely to get a slap from both of the guards and go home bleeding.. if he went home at all. As the trader approached, begging and mumbling apology already, Stephane held up his palm to stop the bumbling idiot. His smile crept across his features, sickening and icy and he tipped his head to the side. The most minute of movements were the most intimidating at that moment as he said; ”I have no interest in hearing in Gerrard. You’ve taken something of mine- and I want it back.”
”I- I don’t have it. I – there was a bet- a game- I- I never thought-“
Again the smile twitched and his eyes glanced to Morris, who smirked back. The two guards fell upon the man and beat him until he no longer had the energy to scream. Then they hauled his body into an alley and seemed to have no care if he got up and managed the walk home or not. Somewhere, in the underground, a cat cried out its song and Stephane finally made to rise from his seat; ”We have one more stop tonight, gents, before we retire to our beds.” And, picking a molecule of dirt from his sleeve, he straightened and walked smartly between the two men through the dirty and darker streets of the great capital.
~~
open
Stephane was sat on a bench, on the dock port. He was in the trading quarter, well protected and well known here. His cousin may have the royals eating out of her overflowing hand, but Stephane knew this city and the undercurrent. And the man that came towards him now, the overgrown and balding man was one of his men. A man who knew, he had done something so very, very wrong and was likely to get a slap from both of the guards and go home bleeding.. if he went home at all. As the trader approached, begging and mumbling apology already, Stephane held up his palm to stop the bumbling idiot. His smile crept across his features, sickening and icy and he tipped his head to the side. The most minute of movements were the most intimidating at that moment as he said; ”I have no interest in hearing in Gerrard. You’ve taken something of mine- and I want it back.”
”I- I don’t have it. I – there was a bet- a game- I- I never thought-“
Again the smile twitched and his eyes glanced to Morris, who smirked back. The two guards fell upon the man and beat him until he no longer had the energy to scream. Then they hauled his body into an alley and seemed to have no care if he got up and managed the walk home or not. Somewhere, in the underground, a cat cried out its song and Stephane finally made to rise from his seat; ”We have one more stop tonight, gents, before we retire to our beds.” And, picking a molecule of dirt from his sleeve, he straightened and walked smartly between the two men through the dirty and darker streets of the great capital.
~~
open