The Guilded Cage, Ch 11

Breaking Point

St Almar was a puzzle just waiting to be solved.  Unlike the passive, inanimate ones that any passerby on the street could see advertised in the shop of a trade district game shop, the city itself was far more alive and that meant prospective players needed to be careful lest they suddenly find themselves to be the ones being played.  Jak wasn't particularly worried about though; he was intimately familiar with the game.

The Coyote was skilled in the ways of St Almar, the Elves, and all of the major puzzle pieces that made the city into what it was.  Very few things took place in the gilded cage that the only commonly-known center of civilization on the continent and, even then, he knew of the others.  It could have benefited him to move on but, then again, that meant that he would have had to give up the game and he enjoyed it far too much.  Not even an exploding tower at the Temple of Law could convince him to flee town-- no... it was getting far too interesting to leave at that point.

Maneuvering from alley to side-street, Jak carefully picked his way from shadow to shadow, stepping silently to find a better vantage.  He moved along with purpose an skill, unseen and unheard in a part of the city that could very well present him with a death sentence should he be discovered when such a critical event was taking place.  It didn't worry him, of course; he'd spent plenty of late nights in the City Center while the elves and nobles scurried around like soldier ants responding to their nest being kicked.  He wasn't worried but that was because he was cautious and aware; to be anything but was essentially suicide.

His path took him from ground level up to the top of a third story building, moving with alacrity and an adroit grace that came from decades on the street, and just as much time realizing that to be caught would be equivalent to being dead.  Jak had never had qualms about risking his life because, as far as he was concerned, it was a perfectly safe bet-- and not because he was overconfident; he had a very clear and very sharp understanding of his capabilities... which is precisely why he was perfectly safe.  It also helped knowing how the Lawgivers worked.

Ducking down amidst the shadows of the rooftops, Jak carefully cloaked himself in the darkness as several bowmen made their rounds atop the buildings.  Unlike the elven Lawgivers, the bowmen of the city watch were Humans, meaning they lacked the ability to distinguish skulker from shadow-- a definite benefit for the Coyote.  The Lawgivers, dressed in their heavy armor, and pridefully dedicated to being seen, didn't waste their time on the rooftops, and so Jak's freedom was never in question... especially not when he was such good friends with the shadows.  The crackling green flames from the sundered tower of the Temple of Law, however, threatened those umbral hiding places so he was limited as to how close he could get.

Jak was no ally to the cult of Loghul but he knew the effects of Hellfire when he saw it.  Unlike more mundane forms of fire, or even magical fire such as the fabled breath of the legendary dragons, Hellfire glowed pure white, and was hot beyond all belief.  Protection, even of the magical variety was all but worthless against it and its destructive capabilities were such that nothing could withstand the heat; Hellfire could destroy just about anything.  The flickering verdant flames were the only proof that Hellfire had been involved, as, once Hellfire burned true, it left lesser green fire in its place which, while no hotter than more mundane flame, had a habit of burning stone as if it were wood.

The Coyote didn't know why the cult would have (or even COULD have) attacked the Temple of Law but what he DID know was that the followers of Norr would not stand by without reaction.  The priesthood of the deity of law and order would not overreact, but they would be methodical and unyielding in their response; Jak was willing to bet his tail that they would lock down the city, impose a curfew, and begin mundane and magical investigation into who specifically was responsible and who could have managed to get an activation room into the protected grounds.  All of the Lawgiver responses would be well and good, of course, but he wondered if the elves would be as enthralled as he was with the cult's specific target; they had attacked the dungeon tower.

Jak fought hard to avoid any association with the Lawgivers and he himself had never been within the Temple of Law but he had many contacts and was owed many favors-- enough to have a working understanding of what was located where within the fortified walls of one of the most secure buildings in St Almar.  The tower that was destroyed was where prisoners were processed.  The ground floor and the floor above it were reserved for holding cells where recent captures would be interrogated.  From there, those who cooperated would go further up in the tower as a 'long term guest' while the unlucky or unruly ones went down into the underground dungeons to meet with the Inquisitors and jailers.

One of the most remarkable things that Jak had noticed was that a good portion of the tower was missing.  Even as he clung to the rooftop a few blocks from the temple the Coyote was able to clearly see that scarcely three stories worth of tower had imploded, collapsed in upon itself while all of the upper levels were simply gone.  He wasn't completely ignorant to the ways of magic, but he didn't know enough to figure out what might have caused it; what he did know, however, was that the source was plenty powerful.  If that was the case then, presumably, at least, the Lawgivers would have a relatively easy time hunting down whatever caused it since they would doubtlessly turn to the Holy Arcane Order or assistance.  Magic had a way of leaving an impression-- a 'stain' of sorts on the wielder.

A smile split the Coyote's muzzle "Presumin' they're still alive, a'course."

He chuckled to himself, muting the sound as he kept a careful eye on a city watch bowman making his rounds scarcely a stone's throw from where Jak was hiding.  Smile growing wider, the Beast-Kin pulled a cobblestone from his satchel; he'd picked it up from where it sat beside the road, knowing that he'd find a use for it.  Letting out a quick, high pitched whistle, he waited for the guard to pause and look his direction.  One clean, well-placed throw later and the bow man took the stone between the eyes and crumpled, falling off the ledge some thirty or forty feet to the street below.  The satisfying metallic-and-fleshy thud of the Human stooge's reward for being an Elven lapdog signaled to Jak that it was time for him to find a new hiding place.

Scouting the after-effect of the cult's attack on the Temple of law had been entertaining for about an hour, but the Coyote was rapidly losing interest and he well knew if he remained bored for TOO long then more servants of Norr would ultimately have to die.  It wasn't that he had anything against them personally, but the Beast-Kin usually went for the low hanging fruit and he didn't usually encounter many others he could identify easily who needed to die.  Bounding from roof top to roof top, the Coyote made good time fleeing back to a section of St. Almar more welcoming to furred residents of the city.

The next few days would undoubtedly be crazy in most of the more regulated parts of St. Almar, which meant that Jak needed to bide his time, restricting his activities to the Slums.  Most intelligent obstructionists would probably find a reason to be scarce from the city but, as far as the Coyote was concerned, that was overkill.  Besides, he reasoned, if he wasn't in St. Almar he wouldn't be able to enjoy the show.  There was a horrific beauty to the strange dance between Law and Chaos-- Norr and Waha, and, more often than not, it was Loghul playing the tune.  If what Jak suspected was the case, however, there was a very good chance that the Trickster himself might be the musician orchestrating the events that had transpired.

Pausing outside his favorite haunt in the Wharf, Jak pulled out his sack hat and slipped it onto his head, maneuvering one ear and then the next to fit through the holes designed to 'let them breathe'.  The Coyote then smoothed out his jacket, brushed some roofing gravel off his elbow, and then walked right into the Stranded Kelpie.  He anticipated that it would be at least an hour before any news of the attack on the Temple of Norr made it to the dock district so he had plenty of time to blend in, relax, and then watch all the confusion strike.  By then he'd be ready for bed, but he'd hang around for another hour or so to get a feel for the general perception of events among the dock workers and inn patrons.

One of the tavern wenches recognized him-- in a manner of speaking.  "Morning, Preacher... the usual?"

Marla was her name, if Jak recalled correctly.  He took a seat, flashing her a winning smile as he dropped a few copper on the table.  "Wrong 'yote, darlin'."

Her smile faded immediately. "Oh... Jak."

There were many reasons why Jak was less popular than his twin but, rather than be insulted, he was flattered by all but one of them; she wasn't displeased over that one so he didn't mind.  "Yep.  Jak.  How about ya go fetch me whatever ya got ready t'go at this hour, would ya, Marla, honey?"

The Human woman looked like she may have had a hint of dwarvish blood in her; she was stocky, on the short side, and had the kind of a scowl that looked like it definitely could have come from one of the short folk.  She also didn't refuse his money; snatching his coins off the table she stuffed them into the front pocket of her apron. Turning to head back toward the bar, she glanced to him once more, stating "Don't go making a nuisance of yourself while I'm gone."

Putting on his best aghast expression (despite his smile), the Coyote held a paw up to his chest. "Nuisance?  Ah wouldn't dream of it, ma'am... just gonna sit here an' behave all nice an' proper like.  Dogs as mah witless, y'all won't get one bit a trouble from yers truly."

Holding up one paw in front of him as if offering up his reassurance as a vow, Jak knew innately that she wasn't going to believe him; even if he hadn't been smiling through the promise the folks at the Stranded Kelpie knew him well.  Part of that meant that they realized he tended to bring trouble with him, but the main reason why they put up with him is because they knew it'd be more trouble to refuse him.

If only he could teach the Lawgivers the same lesson...