Thug for Hire

[DoS Archive]

From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 19 Oct 2003 02:25:20 EDT

The crisp paper of the flyer was scrawled with a crayon drawing that clearly showed a dame of remarkable beauty.  "Lost! My precious PJ is lost!" it read.  In the fading light of the office, an orc lounged with feet propped up on the worn wooden desk.  He fingered the flyer, noting the word "Reward" printed at the bottom. 

Since her disappearance a week ago, little word had been heard about the dame in question, PJ Ramirez.  If it were some sort of kidnapping, it was strange there had been no ransom note...at least not one anyone had admitted to receiving yet. 

The orc let his feet slide off the desk.  Heavy, thick-soled, leather boots thumped onto the floor.  Getting to his feet, the orc grabbed up a sturdy leather belt, which held a pair of heavily used sword scabbards, and belted it into place with a large silver skull buckle.  Next were two matched short swords, both honed razor-sharp, and slid one each into the scabbards.  Time for a little investigation work.

Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 1
"Solving Problems with a Good Right Cross"

There was only one place to start searching for information.  The kind of place where a man could conduct business that did not stand the light of day.  A place where a man's best friend was a knife, and money, or a good right cross. 

This time of year, Badside could be found near the piers.  The half-orc made his way down the wooden pier towards an inconspicuous warehouse.  Plain brick, with most of the windows boarded up, giving every appearance of being abandoned or condemned.  It was a sham of course.  A front, for the entrance to a series of tunnels and switchbacks designed to slow and disorient any large party seeking entry to Badside.  It would not do to have some do-gooder decide to conduct a cleansing with a private army without putting some obstacles in the way.

The guardians were mostly hidden from sight.  Someone familiar with the place might know where to look to spot half of the watchers, but no one spotted them all.  Too much gold was invested in magic, and technology, by patrons that preferred their privacy for that sort of thing. 

Jake was not concerned with the guardians, his was a familiar face in these parts.  It was always possible there could be some new, young punk holding his finger on a crossbow trigger that might get nervous, but as long as the orc kept his hands off the hilts of his knives, Jake would have no problem entering.

The orc's first destination was a pawnshop with a reputation for selling illegally obtained merchandise.   The small man behind the counter was naturally furtive and twitchy.  That was how he got his nickname.  The man probably slept with one eye open, worried that some day someone would enter his shop upset that their missing goods were for sale. 

The orc's greeting was simple and to the point.  A good punch to the face, decking the small man immediately.

"Ow!  What was that for?!"  The greasy-haired man got back to his feet scowling at the orc.

"I got questions."  The orc answered shortly.

"It's customary to hit me AFTER I say I don't know nothing!"  Twitchy probably looked smaller than he really was because he always hunched, which also lent to his his suspicious cast.  The beady eyes contributed as well.  If anyone were to try and liken him to an animal, it would be a rat.

The orc shrugged, hard features gave the barest of smiles.  "I wanted to save time."

"You didn't have to hit me!"  Twitchy poked at the side of his face and winced.

"I'll hit you again if you don't tell me something useful."  The orc brought up a fist, waving it in support of his threat.

"I can't tell you anything if you don't tell me what you are looking for!" the rat-faced man protested.

The orc pulled the flyer out from a pocket in his vast and thrust it at the stolen goods dealer.  Twitchy flinched in reflex, probably expecting to be punched again.  "Have you seen her?"

Twitchy blinked.  Then blinked again.  "Uh, Jake, you know that's a crayon drawing, right?  Right?"  He flinched again, his voice almost squeaking, hands coming up protectively. 

"Ya' know who it is.  Play dumb and I'll give you a bruise to match the one that's going to purple the side of your face."

"Yeah! Sure!  I seen her!  'course I seen her!  Lots!  Don't hit me!"

"When did ya' last see her?"  The orc leaned over the counter, one hand gripping the flyer in a tight fist, the other pressed against the counter's surface as the orc moved in closer.

"I don't know!  I don't know!  A week ago maybe!  Yeah!  ... Please don't hit me!"

"What do ya' know?  What have you heard?  Where'd she go?  Did someone kidnap her?  What're the whispers goin' around in Badside?"  The orc released the flyer and clutched the rat-faced man's shirt, dragging him half over the counter and closer to the orc's scowling features.

Half off of his feet, the squirming man started to answer, "Nothing!  Nothing!  I've heard noth..." but then bit off his response as he saw the fist coming at him.

Held in place, Twitchy had no chance to avoid the blow.  He squealed like a little girl and fought to get out of the orc's grip, but to no avail.

"That wasn't the answer I wanted.  Do better."  The orc readied to punch him again.

"Alright, alright!  Don't hit me! Don't hit me!"  Twitchy's hands were up and out, trying to ward off another blow.  "I heard a rumor, just a rumor mind you, that someone saw her grabbed by something dark, a demon maybe, a week ago.  Some are saying they might'a been working for that Baroness.  Shakira.  Yeah, Shakira.  The mean one."

The orc waved his fist, ready to swing again.  Twitchy continued hurriedly, "that's all I know!  Honest!  On Gorzog's bloated gut, I swear!  That's all I heard!"

Jake dropped the little man, satisfied he was telling the truth.  Twitchy scrambled to keep from falling. 

"If yer lyin' I'm gonna come back and dice you up and make you Gorzog's next meal."

"Geez, Jake!  I swear!  That's all I know!"

The orc shifted his jaw, gritting his teeth and baring his tusks slightly as he growled menacingly.  "I'm comin' back, Twitchy.  Next time I'll want more information.  Find out somethin' if ya' know what's good for ya'."

The orc left Twitchy sweating nervously and stormed out of the dingy pawnshop, satisfied that if there were information to be learned in Badside, the rat-faced man would uncover it.  In the meantime, the orc wandered off in search of additional sources of information.