3: Sonata

[vladtaltos]

Bound for Corsica, ship and storm met less than an hour after setting sail, and for the past two hours you, Black Dahlia, have been tossed amidst the angry waves of the Ligurian Sea. You are waiting out the storm below decks with your colleague, a fellow guildsman of the Azzuri named Gyp, so-called for his propensity to cheat at games of chance, and profit from it. He’s a stocky, mean-eyed fellow with a quick trigger finger on his crossbow, and an eager short sword at his side.

Dog is here, too, in this small cabin, sitting on his haunches, watching you closely. Matching the storm that’s taking place above you is the storm that’s taking place within you. You’re not seasick, but perhaps you wish you were. Anything would be better than what you’ve endured this past week.

A contract on the life of Jean le Rond d’Iderot takes you to Bastia, Corsica. A mathematician and philosopher, he has gained renown for his theories and published works. A rival of d’Iderot’s living near Florence came to the Azzuri claiming his work had been stolen by the Corsican while the two worked together at the University of Genoa. At first the bosses declined, wanting nothing to do with the job, but gold talks, and when a price of a thousand gold was offered the decision was reversed.

For the transgression of intellectual theft it has been decided d’Iderot must pay the ultimate price. The Azzuri bosses have determined this contract is “exceedingly dangerous” and for that reason, two of you have been dispatched to conduct guild business.

But right now, the contract is less-than-important to you. A week of disturbing dream-images have intruded on your sleep, frightening scenes of violence and murder. Your murder. So profound are the scenes they’ve made you physically ill.

It is the shapeshifting psychopath you slew in Ciminian Forest that appears to you as you near sleep, when the mind is drowsy and sluggish and more susceptible to trespasses. His message is always the same. He vows to destroy you in ways far more grisly and heinous than his prior victims.

______________

“How is she?” Looking up you see the grizzled, weather-worn face of the captain of Neptune’s Trident, the ship on which you’re sailing.

“Hell, she’ll be awright, just give ‘er some room,” Gyp answers. The normally murderous eyes of Gyp carry a flicker of concern. You can detect it; it’s there somewhere. “Let ‘er breathe.”

The captain and ship’s doctor leave. The captain to more pressing concerns of getting his ship through the storm. The doc lingers, but a dark glare from Gyp is enough to make any law biding man turn on his heels and depart.

When you’re left with your colleague, he says, “Listen ‘ere, Dahlia. You gotta snap out of whatever it is you got, see? We got tough work ahead. Killin’ this fella ain’t gonna be easy. They say he’s got magics working in those bleedin’ equations of his. I’ve never heard anythin’ like it. And his bodyguards, too, they’re somethin’ I’ve never bloody heard of. What’re they called, Balachs?”

Balachs are, indeed, his rumored protectors. Shadowy things summoned from other dimensions, they never return to their hellish domain until their task is completed.

[julie]

Dahlia sat-up, and tried to clear her head. Where am I? What’s going on? The blurred lines began to clear, slowly, and she began to make sense out of what was taking place.

She was ill. Not with fever, or cold, or anything else common to humankind. She’d become ill due to her dreams. She hadn’t heard the last of the strange killer of Ciminian Forest, unfortunately. He was reaching out to her from the grave. How? More importantly, how could he be stopped?

"I’ll be fine, Gyp." She rubbed her temples, shaking the bad dreams away. "Like you said, let me breathe. I need space. How long is it before we reach port?" She didn't feel like explaining to Gyp what she was going through. She doubted he'd understand, anyway. 

She remembered the generalities of her assignment, but couldn’t recall the specifics. "Is there a plan of action once we reach Bastia, Gyp? Or do we know where this d’Iderot lives, and we seek and destroy?"

[vladtaltos]

Feb 20, 2015 9:57:56 GMT -5 julie said:

"Like you said, let me breathe. I need space. How long is it before we reach port?"

He shrugs. "Who knows in this bloody storm. It was only suppos’ to be a few hours, but might take all day now."

Feb 20, 2015 9:57:56 GMT -5 julie said:

"Is there a plan of action once we reach Bastia, Gyp? Or do we know where this d’Iderot lives, and we seek and destroy?"

"He lives in a villa, crawlin’ with guards and the like. We have a few other places he likes to go to. Prob’ly better to hit him there. We’ll go over it all later, when we land. There’s an Azzuri friendly in Bastia that’s familiar with this bloke. He’s gonna give us some more details."

Dog saunters over and nudges your hand with his head. You pet him, letting him know everything will be okay. He looks up at you with big brown eyes full of concern. You swear he’s trying to reach out to you, to speak, but that can’t be.

A half-hour passes and Neptune’s Trident sails smoother. You ponder whether it’s safe to go above, when you see Gyp sitting at a small table in the cabin, tossing around a few dice. "Whatcha say, Dahlia. Care to pass the time playin’ a harmless game or three?" 

[julie]

"I don’t know, Gyp. You didn’t get your name by accident, and I don’t have that much silver to lose. I’ll probably need it after we land. Why don’t you explain the game to me, then I’ll decide if I want to play or not?"

She cocked an ear to Gyp’s explanation, but focused her attention on Dog. Was he trying to get her attention? Was there something bothering him, or was he trying to communicate with her?

[vladtaltos]

Gyp twirls the dice in one hand. "One silver per game. Small stakes, Dahlia. Small stakes. I like ya. I won’t gyp ya." He laughs. It’s not a pleasant laugh. "And these dice aren’t loaded." He laughs again; it’s more unpleasant than the last.

"I throw the dice. You then predict your roll will be higher or lower than my roll. A tie is a wash, of course. That’s one game.

"Another, we make poker hands out of the five dice rolled. You get three rolls to make your best hand.

"Finally, if yer wantin’ simplicity, we roll the dice. Whoever rolls higher wins."

Five dice dance in his right hand, swimming over knuckles, along his palm, and down his fingers. He’s quite nimble-fingered, this Gyp.

[julie]

She thought over the options. She didn’t believe Gyp’s dice weren’t loaded. They were his dice. Never enter a dice game with someone that provides their own dice. But a silver per game wasn’t much to lose.

To get her mind off of things, she reluctantly agreed. "How about one game of each. We’ll see how it goes from there?

"So go ahead and pitch the dice; I’ll then make my prediction." She turned to her dog. "Keep an eye on him, Dog. Make sure he doesn’t cheat."

[vladtaltos]

Gyp spreads his arms wide in mock offense. "Dahlia, you don’t trust me? I’m hurt." He laughs his cruel little laugh and tosses the bones...

09:44, Today: GM rolled 13 using 5d6 with rolls of 3,2,4,3,1.

"Hmm. Could’ve been better. So, Dahlia, you choose higher or lower and pitch away." He smiles crookedly, and hands over his dice, then pulls them away at the last moment. "What say we make it five silvers for this game?" 

<Whatever your answer, he then hands you the dice...>

[julie]

Dahlia took hold of the dice, considering Gyp's suggestion. "Five silvers. Okay, let's do it."

She shook the dice in her hand. "My roll will be Higher."

<Roll to follow>

[julie]

Dahlia tossed the dice, fairly confident that choosing higher would grant her a win.

20:03, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 12 using 5d6 with rolls of 3,2,2,1,4.

"What?" She looked at the dice, counted the pips once...twice. "Gyp," suspicion narrowed her eyes. "What did you do to those dice?" She snatches them up, and looks them over closely.

[vladtaltos]

Looking over the dice, you find they’re six-sided, pips denoting the value of each side ( ). Really, they look like standard six-sided dice.

"Dahlia, you wound me deeply with your insinuation. This is an honest game I play...I can’t always say that, but in this case, it’s true." 

He smiles wickedly and holds out his hand. "Five silvers, please...Ready for the next game?" 

[julie]

Grudgingly, Dahlia digs around her stuff until she can produce five silvers. With suspicion still obvious in her voice she stuffs the coins in his hand. "Here!"

She thinks about his offer. "I think I fancy this game. Let’s play this one again. You roll, and I say whether my roll will be higher or lower."

She hands him the dice, and decides it may be a good time to investigate the mystery surrounding the Azzuri. Someone betrayed her arrival in The Maze to Benedetto and his Man-Orc henchman. Also, someone sold out Reaper, resulting in his death, and Fang’s hospitalization.

She treads on eggshells as Gyp shakes the dice in his hand. "Gyp, what do you think of the way Reaper died? Seemed a bit strange, didn’t it, someone of his skill just being pushed off a balcony...?" 

[vladtaltos]

Gyp stops shaking the dice just before casting them from his hand. Slowly, he puts the dice on the table, and gives you a look he normally reserves for his mark’s just before he thrusts a short sword through their guts.

"What do I think of it, you ask?" He leans back and seems to reflect on the question. "What do I think of it?" It’s obvious you’ve struck a chord with him, but it’s tough to tell whether he’s offended, pondering the question, or considering offing you here and now for bringing up the subject.

The tense seconds are finally broken. "It’s not right is what I think of it. Not right at all. Reaper was good. No one gets the drop on him like that, especially some lackey like the bodyguard of a magistrate. Impossible."

With a deft scoop, he picks up the dice and casts them across the table.

10:22, Today: GM rolled 20 using 5d6 with rolls of 4,3,4,4,5.

"Bleh."  

[julie]

"I will go lower."

It was tough getting a feel for Gyp, but that was understandable. One didn’t last in this line of work if one were easily read. Having not been rebuffed, Dahlia took the next step. She selected her words carefully. "Hasn’t it made you think someone betrayed him? Someone, perhaps, in the Azzuri?"

(Dice roll to soon follow)

[julie]

10:49, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 14 using 5d6 with rolls of 1,3,6,1,3.

"I won this one, Gyp."

[vladtaltos]

"Dahlia, you know yer walkin’ on dangerous ground, right? What if what you say is true, what if it’s me that betrayed him for a few pieces of gold? Do you think I’m lettin’ you leave Bastia now?" 

He laughs softly, briefly. "It’s not me, of course. I liked Reaper, wouldn’t ever do something like that to him. Now, Fang, he’s another story." 

He takes the five silvers you just gave him and hands them back to you. "We're even. One more toss. Winner is five silvers richer. I’m going back on deck after this; I haven’t heard the storm in a bit. The dice aren't even being moved around." 

He picks up the dice and chucks them across the table...

09:49, Today: GM rolled 17 using 5d6 with rolls of 4,4,3,1,5.

"Ah, that’s more like it. Tough decision for you, Dahlia."
 
As you consider how you’ll bid, Gyp glares at the dice hard, and folds his arms across his chest. "Leave it alone, Dahlia. Leave it alone."