August 14, 427 DF (Wednesday Evening)

Post date: Jan 26, 2015 12:22:11 AM

Today was a surprise, if only because it is ending the way we anticipated. I'm hiding out for a bit after picking up my leather; we're reconvening at our new home, a hovel along the outer wall, a hovel we hope will help us escape attention, and where the density of denizens will give us some warning to any approaching guard (and slow their progress down). We have more coin than we've ever had as a gang, yet, we're in worst conditions.

Not that, at least for some of us, we haven't endured those conditions before... before Rowf found us ol' Flatjacks. My brother who remains whereabouts unknown. Disturbingly, no one in his usual haunts have seen him for days, which is beginning to feed my worst fears. Before I might have deluded myself that he was simply hiding out after our quarrel and the tumult we've brought down upon ourselves, but that's become an impossible charade to keep up. I fear that whomever sicced the hounds on us perhaps snagged him first as a backup plan or to use as leverage against me. Why then we haven't heard anything from his takers I do not know. Perhaps they're as confused as we are at the turn of events – HA! – or worse the answer is much more mundane, and after all these years our luck ran out and the stink simply swallowed him whole.

Fears or no, however, I'm not writing him off yet, anymore than I'm writing us out.

Wil and I's meeting with this Frederick was interesting. He confirmed my suspicion that someone no less than the Family was propping up the Hounds – I never figured they'd be willing to up the ante from bark to bite without a bigger dog behind their tails. Frederick also, perhaps inadvertently, reinforced the shit we've unleashed, with mage hunters and knights and all. I saw two more of them (or maybe the same ones?) this morning, leaving the stockade nearest us, confirming where Aria was likely to be held. If this big-time trader of info is nervous enough to pack up and leave his usual place of business, just for inquiring... well, that tells you something.

Amusingly, I did ask him about our old home, west of the wall, and I surprised myself in doing so. Though in the shit, there's a confidence that comes from making a choice and taking charge, and I won't now deny thinking that we might well emigrate back beyond the wall to a land not full of shit. Mother may well never be happy without our damned dad, but maybe some finery and the trappings of old times will be enough to pull her out of the pipe.

Just maybe.

And with our feet beneath us again, and our gang reunited, we'll see. Bardeen did a much more admirable job this time 'round, at least not bringing the whole guard after us, even managing to get the lay of inside the stockade. The plan was bold but simple: fire equals immediate and predictable action. Tabor, I'm sure, would be proud -- channeling him proved to open up a brilliant opportunity. Set part of the stockade on fire, and there's a good chance you'll be pressed to help put it out. And that we did, with Sedora and I on bucket brigade duty, forcing our way inside to clear a path and a sight line to the cell. Aria was within, and so too was the Ghost Faced Killer stranger. The latter was not good news, but she apparently was useful to help open the cage and she and Aria ran like the dickens while the local captain was two buckets full. Us, being the innocent local helpers, just, well, helped until the fire was put out. With luck, Aria was able to separate herself from the killer, gifts of Ayl and all.

And so it is that I and Sedora are here nibbling food in this storefront. I'm breathing a sigh of relief; what's ahead is still a great unknown, but I'd rather face it with my gang, together.