Out of Session: Independent Enterprises Part II - Eriamas Delvito

Gilk loved his job.

He was well aware that he played into the half orc stereotype, for Gilk was a thoughtful character. He simply didn't care. Administering beatings to hapless shopkeepers and failed gamblers was a therapeutic outlet for his hatred of humans and the torment he'd been put through since he was spat out of his Orcish mothers womb.

He hated orcs too, for the most part, but many of them were up front in their hatred and that could be resolved with a drinking competition or fist fight. Gilk often earned his respect quickly that way. Humans were altogether more spiteful in their prejudices, whispering, exclusion from drinking establishments, work and even some areas of the market. Sneaky bastards!

Gilk often rehashed some of his childhood experiences of humans before starting his collections. The fire would fizz in his belly and the first on his list would at least receive a bloody nose, even if they paid their debt in full. That rarely happened though and Gilk would let out satisfied sighs of pleasure as he snapped bone and gouged eye sockets.

He'd stepped out of the last shop he was to visit for the day. The potter had a well know soft spot for the dice and had run up a considerable debt with the fat goblin. He'd missed two payments and now he was missing two fingers.

As Gilk turned into the alley. A cowled figure produced a stone which flashed briefly.....

Gilk shook his head. He was two roads down and empty handed. The fat goblin wont be pleased he thought.

Out Of Session: Independent Enterprises, Part I - Eriamas Delvito

And what of the other member of the black street gang? The one they thought was lost, the one who'd withdrawn himself for so long from the others. To find that out my dear friends we must search him out ourselves.

Lets pull away from the busying of the artisans putting the finishings to the new inn they jointly owned but he himself had last seen only in a blueprint when Yaef was still alive.

Floating high into the blue winter sky above Elenkess we drive South and West. Past the Riverfolk below loading their boats for the trip Eastward. Through the choking smoke rising from Bell forge and onwards towards the imposing castle at the city's heart. Then swiftly South and down toward the small houses, shops and alleys which make up the backstreets bordering Westhill with New markets.

There he is... you see him? On that roof with the small gang of youngsters...

Eriamas leant over the rooftop waiting for his mark to turn the corner.

"Is he nearly here?" One of the older kids asked. (I use this term broadly for the youngest was a little over twelve in years)

Eriamas turned nodded and put his index finger to his lips.

The neatly dress gentleman in the street below looked like he was in great haste. His bushy brows (a feature he seemed to have groomed and grown to perfection, perhaps as a result of owning very little other hair on his face or head) were furrowed with concern. Bottles of varying shapes and sizes clanked precariously in his hands and arms.

"NOW!" Eriamas jumped up closely followed by his gang of tykes...

*SPLAT*

The flame brow'ed man saw the first egg land at his feet, turning to look up was his first mistake. The next three eggs to follow hit him squarely on his face, head and chest. He now knew he was under attack but by the time he began to move toward the cover of a shop awning he was pelted with a second volley. This time he lost his balance and grip of all the bottles he had in his care.

The smash of his cargo and the yelp from the steaming, stinking heap that lay in the street was the indicator to the gang to make their get away.

"Over the roof!" Eriamas jumped followed by the rest.

Climbing over two more buildings and down a prepared rope in the alley behind Blackspring Avenue they knew they were safe. After a short burst of laugher and self congratulation the gang split.

As Eriamas walked with Meldria (they all knew that even if they felt safe now, travelling in pairs for the route back was a wisdom born from experience.)

"He looked pretty upset, Eri?"

"Aye he did, and well he should after what he did to Wilras. Bigots will always get theirs when I get wind of it."

Meldria nodded and carried on walking in silence as she wasn't entirely sure what a bigot was. She resolved to find out, as she certainly didn't want to be one for fear of getting covered in rotten egg herself.