Iorek in the Pits - RPLOG
Participants
Date
29/3/479
Log
It is dark and a little cold in the light rainfall. The shanties are quiet, for now and a thin sliver of moon occasionally peeks through the thick clouds overhead.
Iorek lingers in the shadows, overlooking the warehouse were he failed last night. Figuring he may get a lead or two if they are dumb enough to come back, he has been lurking around, staying out of sight. He is carrying a large sack as he heads towards a nearby rooftop that he was on yesterday.
Climbing back up, he opens his satchel with some basic gardening supplies he bought to improve the little rooftop garden he found struggling yesterday. High grade fertilizer and seeds for quality, basic tomato and pepper crops he was advised should manage to grow in this enviroment.
Feeling that the owner is nowhere to be seen, he starts replanting some of the pots. 'At least I can do something useful around here' he mutters to himself under his breath.
The dog only manages to right a single pot when something jabs him hard in the back, low on his spine. "Stand up straight," comes a vicious rasp, "Keep your hands where I can see em and don't turn around or I will gut you like a fish."
Iorek let's out a slight whimper, amazed someone managed to sneak up on him up here. The dog does as he's told, putting down the tools he was using to fix the plants and stands up slowly, keeping his back to the person, remaining silent for now as he tries to size up the threat.
"Creators," the rasping voice sighs and the pressure comes off Iorek's back, "That would have been the best time to make a move, kid." There is a rustle of fabric and a grunt. "Turn around, knucklehead."
Iorek is confused by that reaction and turns around looking over who got the better of him. The dog himself is just wearing some non-descript clothing, leaving his armour to go incognito, he lowers his hood thinking he can drop the act "M-Make a move?"
Sitting on the edge of the building is a tattered looking, silver furred fox with a tattered ear and a long scar across one milky, blind eye. He wears a tattered black coat and a frown. "When a man warns you he's gonna gut you," he rasps, "He's not ready to do the deed."
Iorek looks the man up and down and shrugs "Well, yeah... Didn't want to give you a reason to, and I didn't recognise your voice from the card players last night so I figured I'd take my chances... see how this plays out I guess..."
The ragged fox looks Iorek up and down. "What's your beef with the Wild Jack's, kid?" he asks, hands folded in his lap. Strangely, there is no sign of a knife on the grizzled old man.
Iorek smirks a little as he figured this old fox knew something more than he was letting on "I'm going to guess I don't have to tell you they're the worst of the ones around right now... I'm just sick of the crap people have to go through out here, though I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." he relaxes a little and crosses his arms "You clearly know more than most about what goes on here and judging by how I never heard you coming, I'm going to guess you aren't as withered as you look old man."
He quickly looks around to see if anyone else is here "Though I figure this isn't about me messing up your garden last night?"
"I know enough, kid," the scarred fox says, leaning forward, "But what I know isn't really the question here, is it?" He waves his hand around the empty, silent patch of ramshackle buildings. "You got any guesses why it's so quiet round here?" he asks.
Iorek gives an odd look as his ears perk listening to the deafening silence around him. It's not only quiet for being night, there's something odd about it. "Uh... I dunno, people keeping their distence from that place after my screw up last night?" he sighs deeply and looks around getting a little agitated "Look, I'm just trying to help alright, why you wasting your time on me?"
"Because seven people were dragged out of their homes and beaten within an inch of their lives today trying to get information on that little stunt you pulled," the fox growls, "If I don't waste a little time here, people are gonna wind up dead!" The fox's milky, blind eye is suddenly in Iorek's face as the ragged man is upon him with surprising speed. "You've been throwing rocks at the hornet nest," he rasps, "And other people are getting stung! I'm here to see if you're a well meaning idiot or a problem that need solving! What have you got to say to that?"
Iorek appears stunned. though it appears more so that the revelation that the old man's speed. His eyes wide and mouth drop's open at the realisation as he backs of shacking his head "I... I... I...".
Rendered speechless the pup looks overcome with guilt thinking he's responsible for others getting hurt as he looks back at the warehouse.
"Yeah, you you you," the old fox rasps, "Bloody idiot." He shakes his head with a sigh. "You're one of Gramps's boys, aren't you?" he asks, "What in seven hells brought you back here after you got out?" There is no way anyone should have been able to figure that out. Who was this old man?
Iorek his focus snaps back to the old man, so unexpected that they man figured out who he was and struggles to think of what to say, before he takes a breath and tries to calm himself unsuccessfully "Just because I got out, why should I forget about everyone else still struggling here?! I tried to put it behind me, be a crafter, go exploring, make a life, but I just can't forget what I ran from, how could i?!" The young dog appears to be close to tears as he lets out his passion "I'll make that scum pay for what they did, I just have to be smarter, not give them a reason to hurt anymore till I can finish them." it sounds like he's not even convincing himself with his ideolism.
The tattered old fox considers Iorek with a critical gaze, then nods, as if confirming something to himself. "Stupid, then," he rasps, "Come on then, knuckle head. We got work to do." With that, the old man steps to the edge of the roof and with his hands jammed deep into his pockets, he steps off into the empty air!
Iorek looks at the edge where the fox dropped down, still having no idea what is going on. He looks back at the work he had been doing and decides he should probably just follow the old man, figure out what he's meaning.
He drops nimbly from the roof and follows along behind the fox quietly, raising his hood again, his tail between his legs.
The old man walks purposefully down the street, hands in his pockets. "Lesson one," he rasps, "Don't look like a target. You look good enough to eat, puppy dog. Man up!" The grizzled fox moves with speed and confidence, in spite of a slight limp. "Won't be teaching you nothing if you get mugged on the way to where we're going," he growls.
Iorek follows along, the occasional skip to keep pace with the older canine "I'm handier than I look it puts people off guard, that's the point..." he tries to defend his short, scrawney nature, maybe that's what he convinces himself. He keeps his head hanging low a little, and he looks around nervously as getting mugged seems more of a threat from paranoia.
The ragged fox rounds on Iorek with a furious and slightly mad expression. "You forget where you are, bonehead?" he hisses, "This is the edge of the map! Here there be bloody dragons! You don't survive by being invisible! Creators above! Why do you think people are gitting hurt out there? You are blending IN! When one of the herd starts getting nippy, the predators start fighting back!"
Iorek seems to be surprised by that answer and nods as he conceeds the point. He can't keep hiding amoung the people if he's getting them hurt. The lab decides he best shut up for now and listen as the old man seems to know what he's talking about.
Seeing that he's gotten his point across, the tattered fox turns away and stalks on. "Here," he says, pointing out a non-descript, shabby building, "Inside." He wastes no more time, but disappears through the half-ruined doorway into whatever lies in the gloomy building.
Iorek follows in quickly after the old fox, obediently, as he eyes up the ruined building, maybe nothing out of the ordinary for the area, but maybe it has some clue towards its purpose.
Nothing about the building's shabby exterior gives any hints as to what lies inside. Which makes the sinkhole just beyond the door an even bigger surprise! The silver fox grins back toward Iorek, revealing one overly long canine. "Last chance to back out, knucklehead," he rasps, nodding at the black pit, "You can run back to the safe warm inn in the city still. But after this you are stuck. Up to you." Then the ragged old fox steps into the blackness and falls out of sight in silence.
Iorek watches the old fox vanish, mulling over the ultimatum. Sure, he's scared. Don't think he knows anyone who wouldn't be. Of the unknown, the future, of danger. But this old man knows something, he knows a lot and he really does seem like he can help.
Iorek takes a deep breath and walks towards the pit "Time to man up, runt." he says to himself as he steps into the darkness, only a slight hesitation as his foot skirts the edge.
The fall seems to last forever, air whistling by in the darkness, setting Iorek's clothes flapping. It is hard to remember which way is up! Then the breakneck descent slows and Iorek becomes aware of a soft, warm light as he finds himself floating gently about six feet off the ground over a carefully drawn kevinoscope etched into the floor.
"You got guts, kid," comes the old fox's rasp, "I'll give you that. Thought you would at least scream on your way down." The mathemagical enchantment ends, dropping the dog unceremoniously on the floor of a large, dimly lit, and mostly empty chamber.
Iorek picks himself and dusts himself off. "Probably would have if you hadn't gone first...." he admits. He looks around the massive chamber, trying to figure out how it has gone unknown for so long down here.
"Undertunnels," the fox says in answer to Iorek's unasked question, "Caved in almost six months ago. No way in or out except that hole up there." He sits down, cross legged and looks up at Iorek. "You sure about this, puppy dog?" he asks, "Cause damn me, I'll get you started, but that is all I can afford to do. Rest is up to you."
Iorek achieves a look of determination usual for him. "I am, I already started and took some licks to prove it... but if I want to keep going without getting others hurt then I need to do this, I 'will' do this." he focuses on the old man, trying to stand ready for what may come.
The fox nods. "Fine," he says, "First thing's first. You gotta have a name and a face. Being sneaky and anonymous is gonna have the Jacks spreading revenge around to anybody and everybody. You gotta give 'em someone to worry about."
Iorek frowns as his ears drop... he's been struggling with this question since the first day. Sure, it was fun at first thinking up heroic names but he couldn't think of anything good. "When I interrogated that one guy to find out about the warehouse I was wearing a cloth mask and hood, covered the rest I left visable with red paint...". Originally proud of this idea, the young dog's voice betrays his sudden lose of confidence.
The grizzled fox lofts an eyebrow. "I guess we'll have to work on it," he says, "How many of those thugs saw you? Did you give 'em a way to pick you out of a crowd? I been mucking up the gangs for years now. You don't see 'em beating folks in the street thinkin' they're me, do ya?" He points at the hideous scar that runs over his blind eye. "Hard to mistake me fer anyone else, see?"
Iorek also has a scar from his left eye along his muzzle and startling red eyes "I guess just that one and never really gave him a good look I guess. He was rather distracted." he tries to hide a smirk of the pleasure he felt in taking them down and making him talk.
"Then let them see you," the fox says, "But you're gonna have to learn to hold your own in a fight, if all those bruises are what I think they are. Traps in the dark ain't gonna work anymore. Jacks are wise to you now." The old being sits in silence for a second. "Guess if you got questions, I might have answers. Don't know that I got much else for you."
Iorek frowns, he knows that the old man is right about the traps "I'll learn, being Soulless that's the one sure thing, but..." he sighs, thinking this is a stupid question but asks anyway "I've heard about the Kitsunes, maybe if I can find them and..." he tries to remember the phrasing "Awaken their blood inside me, maybe I can give them an image to truely fear. If I can't use the darkness, maybe I can use something stronger to tip the balance in my favour, you know?"
The fox frowns a little. "Yes," he says, "You could go that way." The old fox closes his eyes and sighs. "I hate to recommend the use of a sacred family for a personal vendetta. . . but there is certainly power that way."
Iorek seems surprised "Per-personal? This isn't just me we're talking about, this is, this is generations of families who need help! I'd consider that a worthy virtue for any power." The dog appears to at least believe in what he's saying, even if he is a little deluded, this is really a personal issue he has afterall, it's not true justice he seeks. He was a victim of this pain and wants it ended for all.
The fox is up and across the room in a flash, finger jammed under Iorek's chin. "You tell another whopper like that and you will never see me again," he rasps, "The gangs are bad, Jacks worse than most, but it's the closest thing to order that this poor hole has. You shake that tree and you're calling down the hornets on everyone, got it? Don't you tell me you're doin' this for anybody but yourself."
Iorek gulps and nods as well as he can, given the current situation, remaining perfectly still, terrified to move a muscle or open his mouth to the terrifying old man again. His lip quivers slightly as he tries to maintain his composure.
"Good," the fox says after holding Iorek for a moment longer, "And don't forget it." The old being takes a seat once more, assuming a relaxed attitude. "Now," he snorts, "What do you need to take down the Wild Jacks?"
Iorek is breathng faster, which eases after the fox lets him go "Um... well, I figured that at the end of the day a gang is still a gang, but it must be whoever is leading this one that's making it worse than the others. So I figure I find out who they are and remove them. What I need to do that..." he sighs as doubt fills his mind if he can do this. If tonight has shown him one thing, it's that there is always someone bigger and better than him at everything he tries.
"Think on it, kid," the fox says, "Come back here in two days and we'll talk again."
Iorek nods to the old fox, looking a little deflated and dejected. Also, looking for the way out. "I won't do anything else out there till I come back. I... I don't want to get anyone else hurt." his ears drop and hr frowns "Maybe it's best I just tell them it was me and take the brunt for my mistake instead of the others..."
The old fox stands with a grunt and limps back toward the kevinoscope engraved in the floor. "Up to you," he says, "Sounds stupid, though." He taps twice on a specific mark on the floor, causing the design to spark into life, then he leaps upward and vanishes into the distant darkness.
Iorek takes note of the exit, but for now he just falls onto the floor and crosses his legs, dropping his head as he tries to process his guilt and plan his next move.
