Chapter 2

A City of Towers

Even when he was younger, Caine hadn't walked in fear anywhere in Sharn. At that time, it was a misplaced sense of immortality. He still didn't since his return, but this time, there was a reason. He was an assassin, trained in the use of weapons and his body, so strolling down the streets of the city- even here in lower Sharn- wasn't something he worried about. And compared to the Depths, this was nothing.

The mugger came out of a shadow to stand within a few yards of Caine. The man was young, nervous, and not particularly fit. He had that spaced-out hollow-faced look of a drug user, and he was probably resorting to robbery to pay for his next fix.

Not fit, from his moves, but he was armed- one of those cheap homemade hand crossbow substitutes. They weren't too accurate to begin with, and combine that with his shaking, and he probably couldn't hit the broad side of a building with that thing. The darts could, however, be drugged, which meant accuracy wasn't paramount. A nick anywhere would do the trick.

"C'mon," the robber said, his voice shaky and high pitched. "Yer coin... and fast!"

"Yes, of course," Caine replied steadily. "In my pouch. Ok to take it out?"

"Slow and careful, gobshite." He waved the zip-bow.

Gobshite. Goblin... yes. An insult. Not only are you stupider than a goblin, but stupider than his shite... deserving to be robbed for being stupid enough to walk down the street in the dark alone.

Caine wasn't worried. Giving up the coin wouldn't cost him- he didn't have much on him, not being in his territory. And everything he wore or carried would have been destroyed after the job was done, in any case, used only to establish his bonifides. The mugger was risking serious trouble, for what amounted to less money than Caine had spent on a good late dinner. What a fool. Doubly so for picking the wrong mark to rob.

Give the robber what he wanted, it was nothing, a pittance, a minor annoyance, except...

He didn't like to be insulted. To be considered easy prey. It was ... irritating. And he'd come this way because he'd spotted something, and wanted to suss it out. And giving in would give the wrong impression.

He opened the closure on the pouch, watching as the mugger moved forward a bit. He pulled out a smaller pouch with two fingers. "Coin," he said, tossing it to the mugger. The zip-bow pointed at the ground as he clumsily tried to catch the tossed pouch, and Caine was in motion behind it, chambering his leg as he moved a little to the left, shielding himself with the mugger's own body. A flick of his leg, and the zip-bow went flying. Continuing on around, he brought his hand in low, catching the mugger in the solar plexus with a rabbit punch. The mugger bent over, and Caine folded his punching arm, and brought it up to elbow the thug in the temple, and the man collapsed, out cold.

Caine looked around, and saw the shadow retreating behind the building's edge. Ignoring that for the present, he bent and retrieved his pouch, and after re-securing it, stretched the man's arm out, laying his hand flat on the cobblestones. With the heel of his right boot, he stomped the man's hand... once, twice, three times to be sure the fingers and hand bones were nicely broken.

Then he went on his way. About a block later, he disappeared from the street, and counted to a quick 30, then stepped back out from the shadows. Just as he'd thought... Paulus Erdos... the academic from the prison.

"Well, well," he said. "What finds you here this time of night?"

"You," he said frankly. It appeared that he'd mastered a good portion of his fear as he stood, levelly returning Caine's gaze. "You owe me a story."

"Oh, ho," the assassin laughed. Then his eyes narrowed, as he continued in a low voice, "What makes you think I won't just kill you now?"

"I thought long and hard about that," Paulus said, a little less brave now, but still resolute. "First, you could have easily killed me in that cell. That led me to the idea that you didn't for a reason. Most simply it could be that you're not as cold blooded as the constables would have me believe. But seeing how you handled that mugger back there puts lie to that."

"So you had a reason, which brought my thinking to point two. I did some research given the few facts you had revealed to me. Your father, he was Daric Mikkels, right?" The academic gulped at the dark look Caine gave him, continuing quickly before he lost his nerve. "I am an academic after all- study is my occupation. He wrote some of the most used research treatises on a variety of subjects- none more-so than the Cults of Sharn. Much of his work is not widely credited now, with his fall and all..."

He took a breath and plunged forward, seeing that Caine was loosing his patience. "You want to be known. You saw how your father's reputation was based on his work alone, and only in his House, so it was easily taken away. You have that same drive, but have learned from his mistakes, so want your legend to be separate from any ties. So you won't kill me, because I'm the first step in your plan."

For a long moment, Caine stood, his corded arms crossed before his chest. Paulus wondered if he should be taking the opportunity to run, but realized that he'd not make it far, so he might as well see if his gamble was correct. A slow grin began to spread over Caine's face as he said, "By Kyber, you are as smart as I took you to be when I met you!"

"But you still only have part of it. It's less about the legend, and more about control," he said as he turned to walk, waving for Paulus to follow. "Not a good idea to hang about in one location too long- might attract the wrong type of attention. Let's head back to the inn and get you your story."