The waiting around was a bore. Isaac kept his hands in his pockets in a weak effort to stop fidgeting impatiently. He mulled about, kicking random stones on the warehouse roof a yard or two in different directions. He didn't understand why they had to wait if Fenn had watched the whole thing. He'd done his part, he should be paid, right? The suspicion of a betrayal was ever-present. Fenn was good with words, and those kinds of people were hard to figure out, but Isaac trusted his instincts. For all the mystery, his gut feeling was that Fenn wouldn't cheat him.
After a while, he came to stand next to Fenn. He'd half-expected Fenn to fill the time and silence with long-winded rambles, but the man had gone rather quiet. It was clear that whatever was going on at The Fox and Hound was important to him, but Isaac thought no more of it. Perhaps if he could stop thinking about greeting his brother with a cool one-liner and giving him the biggest hug of all time... perhaps he would've put all the evidence together by now. But no, the young lad could not think beyond the forty gold pieces and what he would do with it.
The moment Fenn's hand moved to his belt, Isaac's eyes were on it. Fenn showed him the pouch with his payment in, and the young lad remained silent as Fenn talked. "40 gold pieces: Enough to rent a property for weeks, or even live in taverns..."
It all sounded very nice. A good bath and bed...? it had been a while since Isaac had basked in such comforts. But first stop was South End Jailhouse. No question. Isaac's cold stare remained on Fenn, even as the man looked over to the Fox and Hound. The anticipation was killing him.
And then it finally happened. Isaac took the pouch offered and opened it up to see the glinting gold coins inside. It was real. This was really happening!
"Nice doing business with you," Fenn said with a nod. Isaac nodded back. "And also... there is plenty more where that came from. I work for an organization who are always looking for young, talented individuals like yourself. We are rather secret, so I would hope that this conversation does not go further than this here roof, but I extend an invitation to you to join us. We have a hand in various activities but primarily specialize in... cleaning up filth, you might say. But the pay is good, and you will always have a home and a family, for the rest of your life."
The pitch to join his guild halfway fell on deaf ears. Isaac was simply uninterested in anything right now. That is... until the last sentence was spoken. ...You'll always have a home and a family... That part struck a chord in Isaac Storm. He wasn't in denial that he was jealous of kids he saw walking the street with a mother and father at their side. He'd never known the feeling of family. Oftentimes he'd wonder what it was like. The pitch sounded altogether different after that line.
That awkward, icey gaze remained on Fenn the whole time. He didn't know what to say. He wondered what Lucas would say. Would this be a good opportunity for them? Would Lucas even be accepted? Cleaning up filth? Fenn was as clean and well-dressed as anyone Isaac had ever spoken to, so clearly cleaning up filth didn't mean what Isaac was thinking. "Cleaning up filth, you say?" Isaac remarked, feeling that this was a good place to start. "What kind of filth?"
As if on queue, Isaac followed Fenn's gaze to see, across the canal at the Fox and Hound, some men bringing out a stretcher with a body on it. Then he saw the three bodyguards, recognizing them by their colours and swords. Suddenly, it all made sense; the reverse robbery. The gloves and careful handling of the gold piece he dropped. The dead body of the tall, tubby man in mustard.
Isaac put a hand to his stomach, feeling physically sick at the situation he found himself in. He was an accomplice to murder. In fact, one might say that he was the murderer. He was the one who dropped the coin. The poisoned coin. The killer.
"You... fucker." Isaac backed away two steps. "You bastard. You..." He couldn't even say it. "Why...? What...? Cleaning up filth," he answered his own question. "Why didn't you tell me what I was doing?" He felt betrayed in a way that he'd not seen coming. And he felt terrible for not seeing the signs. He looked down at the payment in his hand. Blood money. He wanted to throw it off the roof, but he couldn't. He needed it. Looking back at Fenn, his face tense with stress. "You're an assassin."
And it now occured to him that depending on how he acted, he might be the next one to die. Fear creeped up over the general anxiety. He knew he had to be careful here. "I need this money. Thirty gold for my brother's freedom. It's all I care about." He paused a moment, then added, "I can't accept or refuse your offer until I've dealt with that... know that he's safe and sound."
After a while, he came to stand next to Fenn. He'd half-expected Fenn to fill the time and silence with long-winded rambles, but the man had gone rather quiet. It was clear that whatever was going on at The Fox and Hound was important to him, but Isaac thought no more of it. Perhaps if he could stop thinking about greeting his brother with a cool one-liner and giving him the biggest hug of all time... perhaps he would've put all the evidence together by now. But no, the young lad could not think beyond the forty gold pieces and what he would do with it.
The moment Fenn's hand moved to his belt, Isaac's eyes were on it. Fenn showed him the pouch with his payment in, and the young lad remained silent as Fenn talked. "40 gold pieces: Enough to rent a property for weeks, or even live in taverns..."
It all sounded very nice. A good bath and bed...? it had been a while since Isaac had basked in such comforts. But first stop was South End Jailhouse. No question. Isaac's cold stare remained on Fenn, even as the man looked over to the Fox and Hound. The anticipation was killing him.
And then it finally happened. Isaac took the pouch offered and opened it up to see the glinting gold coins inside. It was real. This was really happening!
"Nice doing business with you," Fenn said with a nod. Isaac nodded back. "And also... there is plenty more where that came from. I work for an organization who are always looking for young, talented individuals like yourself. We are rather secret, so I would hope that this conversation does not go further than this here roof, but I extend an invitation to you to join us. We have a hand in various activities but primarily specialize in... cleaning up filth, you might say. But the pay is good, and you will always have a home and a family, for the rest of your life."
The pitch to join his guild halfway fell on deaf ears. Isaac was simply uninterested in anything right now. That is... until the last sentence was spoken. ...You'll always have a home and a family... That part struck a chord in Isaac Storm. He wasn't in denial that he was jealous of kids he saw walking the street with a mother and father at their side. He'd never known the feeling of family. Oftentimes he'd wonder what it was like. The pitch sounded altogether different after that line.
That awkward, icey gaze remained on Fenn the whole time. He didn't know what to say. He wondered what Lucas would say. Would this be a good opportunity for them? Would Lucas even be accepted? Cleaning up filth? Fenn was as clean and well-dressed as anyone Isaac had ever spoken to, so clearly cleaning up filth didn't mean what Isaac was thinking. "Cleaning up filth, you say?" Isaac remarked, feeling that this was a good place to start. "What kind of filth?"
As if on queue, Isaac followed Fenn's gaze to see, across the canal at the Fox and Hound, some men bringing out a stretcher with a body on it. Then he saw the three bodyguards, recognizing them by their colours and swords. Suddenly, it all made sense; the reverse robbery. The gloves and careful handling of the gold piece he dropped. The dead body of the tall, tubby man in mustard.
Isaac put a hand to his stomach, feeling physically sick at the situation he found himself in. He was an accomplice to murder. In fact, one might say that he was the murderer. He was the one who dropped the coin. The poisoned coin. The killer.
"You... fucker." Isaac backed away two steps. "You bastard. You..." He couldn't even say it. "Why...? What...? Cleaning up filth," he answered his own question. "Why didn't you tell me what I was doing?" He felt betrayed in a way that he'd not seen coming. And he felt terrible for not seeing the signs. He looked down at the payment in his hand. Blood money. He wanted to throw it off the roof, but he couldn't. He needed it. Looking back at Fenn, his face tense with stress. "You're an assassin."
And it now occured to him that depending on how he acted, he might be the next one to die. Fear creeped up over the general anxiety. He knew he had to be careful here. "I need this money. Thirty gold for my brother's freedom. It's all I care about." He paused a moment, then added, "I can't accept or refuse your offer until I've dealt with that... know that he's safe and sound."