Kinley & The Bounty Hunters: Chapter 3

== Kinley & The Bounty Hunters ==
 
The Golden Peacock was one of the longest standing buildings in the Old Town; it’d seen many an event and withstood the onslaught from the Orcish invasion – needing only minimal repairs from the stonemasons during Stomrwind’s rebuilding.
A shame then that under the current ownership the building had been run into disrepair. Mortar was missing from between most of the stone bricks on the lower levels and as the towering inn climbed higher, external support beams had been all but eaten away by bad weather and wood-worm.
The building once had the finest stained glass outside of the Cathedral district and was noted as being one of the more upper class inns in the city - the choice of many travelling noblemen. A far cry from its current state. Yet somehow it still stood and towered above many of the more modern buildings around the city – the view from the top was immense, on a good day allowing you to see right on over to the harbour.
It was the top room that Kinley rented, and as hard as it was to believe it was once the penthouse suite of the inn – sporting a balcony which had since rotted away and fallen onto some hapless gardener who was tending to the inns flowerbeds many years ago. A plaque now stood in commemoration but even that had seen better days, chipped and scratched, the carved writing was beyond recognition and the plaque was now little more than a dog’s toilet.
Jilled arrived at the inn, breathless from her sprint and faint from the lacerations on her shoulder caused by Slim’s poison tipped blades. Climbing the small flight of stairs leading to the entrance of the tavern she cursed as her foot went right through one of the rotten wooden steps. Pushing the door aside she threw the broken plank at the inn-keep behind his make-shift counter.
Leonard was a filthy man even by the stands of the Old Town. His few remaining teeth were rotten black and his face was covered in a swarm of pus filled spots which had a horrible habit of popping at the most in-opportune of moments – he was also the inherited owner of The Golden Peacock.
 
Using his hands to flatten his few combed over strands of hair he stared Jilled down, the broken blank dug firmly into the damp softened plaster behind him.
“That’s coming outta your fellars deposit!”
The lobby of the inn was once decorated in the finest red velvets and silks, the wood was solid dark mahogany and the floor was made from polished Dwarven stone. Where any of that was now was a mystery to Jilled, even the counter which Leonard spent most of his days sat behind was made up from a piece of old lumber rested up a couple of wooden palette’s stolen from the docks. To the side of the lobby was once a great dining hall, now it was home to a few desperate families huddled around an open fire which was fuelled by the floorboards and wooden banisters of the inn. Leonard charged them a cheaper rate for sharing the room, but made sure they worked for it.
“Where’s Kinley?”
Jilled ignored Leonards comment, knowing full well Kinley had enough coin behind the counter to buy the inn outright. Why he insisted on renting a room in this hive of filth was a mystery to her, he could easily afford one of the more upper class establishments in the Mage Quarter.
“Depends.”
Replied Leonard as he picked the dirt out from under his fingernails.
“Listen, I haven’t got time for your games – Where is he?”
Leonard smirked, a wave of rotten breath overcame Jilled and she winced.
“Well, you stay in Mr. MacFarlane’s room from time to time and not once do I ask for any extra coinage from you. Granted, MacFarlane is one of my more loyal customers but I’m running an inn here, not a charity. So it depends on how much you’re willing to pay off your debt.”
Leonard pulled free a sheet of parchment paper from one of the cluttered drawers behind him, yanking the piece of wood from the wall he jotted something else done amongst the mass of scribbles already on the page.
“My tally says you owe...”
Leonard sucked the air in through his teeth.
“Well, close to twenty-six silver coins.”
Jilled approached the counter, biting her lip she tried desperately to hold her temper. 
“Listen, scum. We both know how much coin Kinley has already passed you and we know it’s more than enough to balance out any... discrepancies. So why don’t you just tell me if he’s here, or if he’s already left. “
Leonard slid the papers to aside and spitting into his hand, he once more flattened down his greasy strands of hair.
“I’ll tell you what; I can make all of this disappear if you say. Well, I think a kiss oughta cover it.”
Leonard adjusted his sweat stained collar and puckered his lips, without any hesitation whatsoever Jilled drove a fist right between his eyes. Leonard stumbled backward into the shelves and sent papers flying everywhere as he collapsed to the floor. Shaking her hand from the impact Jilled made her way up the rickety stair case, a few of the people from the dining room looking on in shock.
Kinley was sat at his work-desk; in front of him was a mass of screws and cogs and between all of that laid a finely made golden pocket watch nestled tightly between the jars of a vice. Various open paged books and manuals were skittered about the desk and with his magnified eye-glass firmly in place Kinley worked on the time piece delicately whilst humming a gentle tune under his breath. With a pair of tweezers Kinley replaced gears and cogs, he wound things up and wound them down, tightening screws and loosening springs – so enthralled was he with his work he barely noticed the footsteps approaching the room.
Reaching for a green ragged cloth he quickly threw it over the desk – knowing full well that the watch was worth largely more than anything else in the building. Taking a hold of a small thumb blade he watched helplessly as a key was inserted into the lock and the handle of the door began to turn. As the door opened, Kinley leapt to his feet and encountered a fuming Jilled he stormed toward him with the momentum of a raging bull. With a raised hand she swung to slap him around the face, using her momentum against her Kinley ducked the blow and forced her against the wall with the thumb blade pressed against the bottom of her throat.
“Why didn’t you warn me that people were looking for you?!”
“People are always looking for me.”
Kinley relinquished his grip and turned to throw the small blade to the work-bench, with his back turned against the woman she leapt upon him and wrapped her arms around his throat. Wrenching the air from Kinley he slammed her backward into an old wardrobe, the doors caved in on themselves and Jilled fell inside the empty unit, the broken doors falling on top of her with a crash. A male resident from the next room flew out into the hallway to observe the commotion, Kinley shook his head as the man stared and slowly the man backed up into the room he came from. Locking the door closed, Kinley turned back to Jilled who was now sat on the base of the wardrobe with the broken pieces of door before her.
“Who?... The guard?... The Brotherhood?... The cultists?”
Kinley questioned Jilled coldly, not showing any clear signs of concern over her condition despite the very visible wounds on her shoulder.
“No. Bounty hunters, I think.”
“Bounty hunters?”
Kinley reached into a drawer of his work-bench and pulled free a dark coloured cotton sack, untying the string which held it shut he knelt before Jilled and tore her shirt around the wounds. Looking over them curiously he pulled from the sack a small vial of thick but clear liquid, pouring it onto a small white gauze he dabbed at the wound. Jilled flinched.
“Five of them, well, four now.”
Kinley threw her a glance and continued to work on disinfecting and bandaging the cuts.
“You were followed?”
Looking at Kinley in a quiet disbelief, she shook her head.
“I’m flattered someone would go to the effort of placing a bounty on my head, I thought it was a dying a profession. Desperate times indeed.”
Kinley soaked one of the pieces of gauze in the clear solution, holding it in-place he fastened it against the wound with a length of linen bandage, Jilled gritted her teeth together tightly as Kinley tied the knot tightly against her. Standing, he placed a comforting hand atop a head – a polar opposite of what occurred just a few moments ago but Kinley had come to expect this from his relationship with the fiery mercenary.
“I’ve not seen poison-work like that for some time, these men, tell me of them.”
Kinley filled a pot of water and set it upon the small fire. As Jilled spoke, he searched a few jars of dried herbs, picking out exactly what he needed from the dwindling supplies.
“There was a woman as well, fast and cunning. A man, as black as soot and as large as a house, he turned over a table as if it were a feather and his hands were as big as rocks.”
“Inconspicuous then, I’m glad they’ve mastered the art of camouflage.”
“... There were three others, one lay dead on the floor of Reese’s tavern after I shot him. The others, one was a tall man as thin as a beam, his skin as pale as any cultist I’d ever seen. He was the one that did this to my shoulder...”
Kinley stopped what he was doing, the words of Jilled sinking in to his mind like a jolt of lightning.
“The other was the leader of the group, curly grey hair and a thick beard. He had a silver chain around his neck with a skull and crossbones pendant and his face Kinley, his face was scarred to nether. A burn I’d say. His name, if I could only remember his name...”
“Spooks.”
Replied Kinley quickly.
“H-How did you know? You know him?”
Kinley poured the hot water from the pan into a mug which was filled with leaves and herbs, the water instantly turned black and the smell was as rotten as decaying meat. Turning to Jilled he waved it in front of her face.
“Know him?... I killed him!”
Jilled took the mug and heaved at its stench, looking to Kinley with a confused glance she took a sip if the vile liquid and gagged
.
“Clearly the job wasn’t as good as I assumed it was, fate is a fickle mistress Jilled. You need to drink that down.”
Jilled held her nose and downed the concoction; she heaved and turned a shade of yellowish green as she swallowed. Kinley looked on and examined the empty mug like a nurse checking on a child.
“I – I don’t understand.”
Kinley ran a finger around the inside of the mug and raised an eyebrow at Jilled.
“Spooks and Slim are old acquaintances. We worked together on a handful of jobs before they took it upon themselves to betray me and forcefully re-introduce me to some people I’d rather not have met again. No doubt a gratuitous amount of coin was involved, so at the first chance I got I was sure to return the favour. Their safe house wasn’t as safe as they thought, I snuck in and set the place ablaze. They assumed me dead as I did them until a few minutes ago. As I said, fate is a fickle mistress.”
“So why’re they after you now?”
Running a hand back through his hair Kinley shrugged.
“A question I’d also like answered. They handed me over to certain death so I assume that if it was a matter of revenge they’d have learnt I was alive and come for me long before now. I suppose I’ll have to go and ask them in person.”
Kinley hoisted himself to his feet and began to carefully remove a facade of brickwork from the wall revealing a cubby hole in which sat a brown leather bound chest. Sliding the chest out and onto the bed, he unclasped the lock and swung the lid open.
“I’m coming with you. I think I need some revenge of my own.”
“No.”
Replied Kinley bitterly. Removing an array of sheathed daggers and glowing vials of liquid from the chest he threw a quick glance to Jilled.
“You’re wounded, you’ll only slow me down.”
“You’re not invincible, Kinley. There’re four of them.”
“I’ve killed two of them once before, I know them well Jilled. This is no place for you. Stay here and rest, I’ll be back before sunrise.”
Jilled stood and slammed the lid of the chest closed, Kinley removed his hands just in-time.
“I’m coming, and that’s that.”
Kinley smiled and nodded briefly before flicking the lid of the chest open again.
“Very well.”
The pair emptied the chest of all it contained and before it was over Kinley was garbed in his leather jerkin and britches, a bandolier was swung over his shoulder filled with various vials of liquid and about his person was hidden no fewer than a dozen blades. Reaching for a raggedy hooded cape he fastened it tightly over his shoulders and around his neck and looked to the doorway.
Jilled loaded her flintlocks and slid them into their holsters before extinguishing the gas lantern in the corner. The room was now only lit by the glowing white moon which shone in through the large windows – illuminating the two in an eerie light. Jilled stepped toward Kinley and ran her hand along his stubbled cheek before sharing a brief kiss, as she turned to the door Kinley smashed the hilt of a blade against the back of her head. Catching her unconscious body before she fell, he carefully laid her upon the bed and placed a finger gently upon her lips.
Taking the key from her belt hoop, Kinley scooped up his bow and quiver and disappeared from the room, locking the door behind him. 
Descending the rickety stair case, Kinley walked the length of the second floor hallway, ignoring the shouts and arguments coming from the drunken residents of the rooms and entered the old store cupboard which was once used to house the bed linen in the inn’s heyday. It wasn’t completely unknown for Leonard to rent this room to Gnomes for the evening, it was afterall one of the few windows on this storey that hadn't yet been boarded up. However, since many of them now see the Dwarven district as being a home away from home those days are long over and the cupboard now serves no real purpose other than easy escape route for those not wanting to be seen leaving the front door.
Un-hooking the small battered brass window catch, Kinley pushed the grime incrusted window ajar and stepped out onto the slate tiled roof of the adjoining building. The air was bitterly cold and it howled across the rooftops, hurling leaves and dust from the streets below and taking them on a roller coaster ride across the city. With a slight shiver, Kinley gently closed the window behind him and lit up his smoking pipe. With the pipe nestled between his lips he skillfully made his way from one building to the next, the wind masking the sound of his movements and his cloak merging him into the night sky he was barely noticeable to anyone not paying the utmost of attention.
Like a black cat he scaled the sides of chimney breasts and slid down rooftops with a grace that comes from years of practice, slinking between shadows and stepping across alleyways his instincts led him toward the harbour.
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