3. Hakan (anti_robot)

Hakan (anti_robot)


  • Login: anti_robot
    Character Name: Hakan

    In the chill evening the seaside moisture hung in the air as a thick mist. Darker and denser than any fog, it was as if the shadowy soul of the city itself was slowly coursing through the back alleys, edging its way toward the lights and sounds of the heart of Teflamm.

    Visibly alert, Hakan watched the swirling air under the flickering light of a night lantern. One hand gripped a bucket of swill he'd only just dumped into the alley gutter while the other flexed momentarily, as if something in the depth of the evening had triggered his corded muscles into a response. The muffled cries of a busy night in a seedy tavern seeped through the sturdy door at his back, and as he narrowed his eyes toward a distant shaded nook, the muscles in his jaw tensed.

    After an instant a voice spoke from the darkness in a calm, slightly amused tone. "You still have good eyes, Hakan. Some lose their vision after enough time in the hold."

    Hakan quickly calculated the distance to the figure emerging from down the alley and his grip tightened on the bucket. He knew the man called Currin was too quick for him and too far away.

    "They say a lot of things about the hold–those who've never been," he growled in Chondathan as he squared himself toward the approaching thief.

    Hakan's eyes could vaguely perceive the outline of a smile on the cowled face as Currin continued his approach. His silent steps were disconcerting, as was the confidence in his stride. He spoke again as he closed the distance, "I understand you are angry with me, Hakan. You must understand I was following orders? We all have to follow orders." He stopped a few steps away, only the smile on his face visible in the flickering light.

    "I've never understood the loyalty of thieves," Hakan said quietly. "Perhaps it's a condition of Mask's favor?"

    Currin's grin split as he chuckled. "They were right. You are angry."

    "Are you here to kill me?"

    As Currin exploded in laughter Hakan took a quick step to the side and hurled his dripping bucket at the lithe, cloaked figure. The thief easily stepped under the unwieldy projectile, but his soft boot heel slipped on the muck he'd stepped forward into. To regain his balance he released the hilt of a dagger at his belt and shot his arm out sideways. With massively superior strength, Hakan caught the arm and wrenched it around, spinning the smaller man and locking his other thick forearm across his windpipe.

    Currin grunted as Hakan drew him up and twisted one wrist while applying nearly crushing force against the thief's throat.

    "You're quick but stupid, Currin. You should play to your strengths. Your purse should fetch me a decent room tonight."

    Hakan released the pressure slightly on Currin's throat to listen to his gasping plea: "Wait! Wait!"--cough--"I didn't come to kill you." He burst into chokes and gasps and then was cut silent as Hakan resumed pressure on his throat. Still speaking in Chondathan, he whispered viciously into the smaller man's ear. "I better hear something I like, Shadowmaster, or I'll twist this weak neck right off."

    He eased the pressure again and after coughing and wheezing for a moment, Currin managed, "Alexi needs a favor."

    Hakan cast his eyes about the alley for a moment, taking in each flickering detail. If he killed the thief he'd have nowhere to go. And if Alexi knew where he was they'd come for him again and put him back on the prison barge--or just kill him on the spot.

    He ground his teeth and released Currin with a shove, knocking the temporarily weakened man to his knees in the very slop he'd lost his footing to. "I should crush your skull and send it to Alexi in that bucket, you dog. What does your master want with me anymore?"

    Currin turned a venomous eye on Hakan as he rubbed the already visible welts on his throat. He said in a slightly raspy voice, "A woman, someone you know. He wants her out of the city."

    Hakan couldn't help but laugh. "A woman? Since when am I an escort for Alexi's concubines?" He cracked his knuckles and asked sternly, "Why should I do anything for him?"

    Currin stood and turned, gingerly trying to brush the scum from the silken knees of his breeches. He looked up at Hakan with contempt and considered him for a long moment. In response, Hakan crossed his bulging, tattooed arms and narrowed his eyes.

    "My master said you'd volunteer. The woman is called Rayna." As he spoke the name, a hint of amusement returned to the thief's face.

    As Hakan's mouth opened to speak, the door behind him burst open as if kicked, nearly catching him in the back. As he turned, a bulging red-faced mustached figure in greasy attire bellowed, "What iz zis, you goat? You've been out wis ze refuse for . . ." he trailed off as he spotted the cloaked figure in the alley, then drew himself up and faced Hakan again. "You iz here consorting wis zis rabble?" He held up a cleaver menacingly and continued, " I slize your tongue from your head if--"

    Hakan executed a short, rapid strike to the fat man's center, silencing him instantly. With a heave he pushed the now purple-faced cook back through the door and slammed it shut.

    He turned back to Currin with a grim expression and took a deliberate step forward, grabbing the smaller man's shirtfront. Despite the dagger blade the agile Currin pressed against his ribcage, Hakan hauled the thief to eye level and pressed his face against the other man's. With a low, deadly voice he hissed in common, "Tell me where."


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