fett on 18/12/2004 at 17:46

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Chapter 8
The Docks – 11:28pm

The Docks. The poor part of town. Well, at least as poor as all the others. Except for Awedude, I can’t really tell much difference. Full of cramped tenements and Church’s Fried Chicken drive-thrus. I wouldn’t come here looking for a lot of gameplay variety, except that it has water. Finally! Haven’t been for a good swim in awhile. However it is a good place if you’re in the market for something rare and exotic. Like maybe rope arrows – everyone seems to be suddenly out of stock. Precious imports like rubber trees and…well, I’m not sure what else, are stored here until they can be moved to more wealthy parts of the City. So in contradiction to what I said a moment ago, the Docks can be a good place to rob, even though it’s the poor part of town. Yeah.
The quarantine still has the Docks cut off – the citizens are rightfully terrified of being overrun with pop stars – but I found one of those Keeper buttons near my apartment, and it brought me here. Nifty. Maybe I can repay them for using me like a tool by picking up the trail of these Lost Dylan Recordings and the Translation Key. If the Keepers are right, and there’s a Dark Age coming, the Docks is where to start searching for it…because, uh…it’s kind of dark here…mostly…

Garrett needed to check out the Tumultuous Cacophony – the Karaoke Bar down by the docks, but first he needed to offload the 20 or so paintings he’d been carrying around with him. They were developing creases from being rolled up in a big bundle and stuffed into his back pocket.

Where is my cloak anyway? That’s thing’s been missing for months... Must’ve lost it somewhere. Guess I’ll have to keep stuffing all this loot in my pants from now on. Gotta be careful though. Nothing hurts worse than a jade goblet chaffing…

He headed for a well-hidden pawn shop, the only store on the descent to the west side Docks, and preparing himself for his inexplicable fence-related panic attacks, stepped inside.

“Who’s that?” a female voice shot out, “let me get a look at you…you must be that fellow Garrett. I’ve seen your face on billboards and at the post office. Some kind of famous thief I hear, but that don’t impress me. Famous or no I’ll buy your crap. Business is slow since I started making it a point to harass and expose all my clientele. I find calling them by name and telling them I know all about them and their illegal activities tends to hamper repeat business.”

Garrett, as usual, could say nothing, but watched the money exchange hands, then found himself standing back on the street.

Maybe it’s some kind of social anxiety disorder…

Two figures milled about at the end of the street. One looked suspiciously like Dyan – the pagan priestess, the other, like a skinhead in a dress. They seemed to be discussing him.

Who isn’t these days? Seems that people can talk of nothing else. Sometimes I just wanna go where nobody knows my name.

“Thisins bes a letterings from Dyan to that theivers Garretts sos hims bes readings its preciousss,” said Dyan’s twin sister. Looked like they bought their clothes at the same designer pagan outlet at the very least.

“Him? Be’s I wants to deaden hims, not bes leavings hims letters precioussss,” said the dress guy.

“Mes toos. But Dyans saids hes coulds bes ofs usings to us. Her says no kills. Not yets.”

“Bes thinkers hims will reads thems letters?”

“I not thinkers hims will. Hims used to be one of thems Keepers. Everyones knows theys not likes to readers.”

Garrett could bear it no longer, ”You TAFFINGS IDIOTS!!!" He screamed out from his shadow, “Every word is NOT PLURAL!! If you want my help with ANYTHING start using taffing CORRECT GRAMMAR!!”

Both looked startled for a moment, but quickly gathered themselves, “Ah, yes, ah…my apologies Garrett. We do have a certain image to uphold. Nevertheless, Dyan has requested that you read this correspondence and reply forthwith,” She handed him a glowing letter.

“Indubitably,” rushed the bald guy, “though we find your presence among us most distasteful, like countless others, we desire to obtain your services free of charge in exchange for withholding our omnipresent compulsion to exterminate you. No offense meant. ”

“None taken,” said Garrett, who was accustomed to people trying to kill him in the street for no apparent reason. Why should these guys be any different? I knew the weird accent was just a put on.. “Let’s see what Dyan wants this time.”

[indent]Garrett, my visionings havers showns me that is was you who stealers thems Jackelopes Paws. This crimes be punishable by deadenings, but wes be knowings that Viktoria woulds be wishing to finds another way. Leters me cutst to the chase.
Yours standings withs us will bes gooders if yous shoot your moss arrows intos our cornerstones throughouts the Citys. This shoulders be easys since the Citys so small and you don’t needers yours moss arrows since yous don’t use thems to walk quieters anymore. No ones can hears your footsteps no matters whats anyways.
If you doers this, it will turns the cornerstones intos more different looking cornerstones. Wes don’t bes knowing hows this will really helps us, but it wills give you something to do whiles yous are in the Citys. Wes noticers that there’s nots too many houses to breakers into like theres used to bes.
Oh yeah, and quits stealings our stuffers.[/indent]

Screw that he thought My name’s not Jeeves. Besides, there may not be many houses to break into, but the fronts of the other ones are sure pretty to look at. And that more than makes up for it.

He took a look around at the blank, indescript walls of the Docks area.

Sure. You just keep telling yourself that…

He high-tailed it to the other end of the district and located a shop called ‘The Undercurrent’ and stepped inside. Good ‘ole Sam Swarthy would have some rope arrows.

“Welcome to the Undercurrent – Sam Swarthy proprietor.”

“Hi Sam. No need to introduce yourself every time I come in here. I know who you are. I’m your only customer. I need some rope arrows.”

“Rope arrows? Ah – I’m fresh out Garrett. Got these nifty gloves though.”

“Gloves? What the hell do I need gloves for?”

“Ya know, to climb around on walls and stuff. Like Spiderman.”

“I’d rather be like Tarzan*. Give me my taffin’ rope arrows.”

“Sorry Garrett. Like I said I’m fresh out. Take the gloves, you’ll be glad you got them. Why just of the top of my head I can think of one place you could break into using these gloves. Just imagine it. One whole upstairs single room apartment in the whole district that you couldn’t get into, if you didn’t have these gloves. I hear there’s a silver goblet in there worth at least one tenth of what these gloves cost. They practically pay for themselves.”

“One whole apartment huh? I don’t know, I’ll give it a try, but I’d still rather have my rope arrows.”

“Rope arrows have been on the way out for a long time Garrett. Too many people using them to climb out of the City. I hear there’s some infinite rainbow type world out beyond in space. Like in Dark City.”

“You mean Dark Project?”

“No, Dark City. The movie?”

“Never saw it.”

“Well, either way, we don’t want you going anywhere we didn’t plan on you going. So ixnay on the rope arrows, you get me?

“Sure thing Sam. Whatever. I’ll catch ya later.”

“See ya Garrett. Hey! Check back next week, we’re getting some of those cool suction cup boots in from…”

Garrett shut the door in his face and strolled down toward the docks. The Tumultuous Cacophony was around here somewhere.

His path to the karaoke bar was blocked by two City guards conversing next to a glowing rubber tree.

“That sure is a fine looking glowing rubber tree Freddy. Sure would spruce up my place a bit. If I could just get the front door to open.”

“Wouldn’t want it in my place,” Freddy replied, “the only reason it’s here is because this is a really boring section of town.”

“What – you mean like because it should be a sprawling waterfront with hundreds of ships docked to communicate the size and economy of the City, but instead it looks a bit like a Water Theme Park at a Disneyworld knock-off?”

“Exactly! Of course, now that the City’s economy is based solely on the thief supply shops, I suppose we don’t need a lot of imported goods.”

They were silent for a moment. The first one finally scratched his head, “What does that have to do with the tree?”

“Don’t you ever listen? The pagans wanted to plant it someplace special or something, but we got to it before they did.”

“But where did it come from? What does it do? What will happen if it’s planted in that special place?”

“Questions I’m afraid will never be answered my friend. Very mysterious.”

“You think somebody will try to steal it?”

“Only if they have nothing better to do,” Freddy said.

Garrett had been expecting them to stand guard over the tree, but instead, Freddy turned and walked directly toward him. There was nowhere to run. A good thief knew when to bolt, and Garrett took off past him. More options toward the water.

“Hey!” yelled Freddy, “Now you’re gonna get it!”

Garrett scrambled for a speed potion to no avail. Yet another supply and demand problem as of late…. The other guard heard the commotion and joined in the chase.

“There’s nowhere to go ya know!” they taunted. The situation held little surprise or anxiety for Garrett. He had escaped the guard hundreds of times by jumping in the multitude of canals lacing their way through the City. Where did all those go anyway? Even the fountain outside my apartment has been bone dry for as long as I can remember. No matter, it was a well known fact the City Watchmen couldn’t swim. Probably a pre-requisite for the job as far as he could tell. He had seen a few fall into the water, then stand there shaking their fists at him until they drowned. But that was years ago.

Simple. Jump in the bay, stay in the shadows under the piers and emerge on the other side near the Tumultuous Cacophony. Three minutes tops, no resources wasted on these lame-brained City Watchmen.

He plummeted feet first into the water at the end of the pier and knew immediately that something was wrong. Whatever strange malady that prevented the Watch from swimming suddenly overtook him. He felt paralyzed from the neck down, he couldn’t move. Not another fence shop panic attack…not now…

He couldn’t struggle much longer. The black was closing in. A loud voice yelled something about Pavement Lock prison. Too much reverb Garrett’s last thought before he succumbed to the dark.


Pavement Lock Prison – 3:22am

Cold stink greeted Garrett’s senses as he awoke, coughing up rank seawater and shivering from the dampness. Something very bad had happened, that much was clear. He heard indistinct voices and dripping water. Cragscleft? Shoalsgate? A bar in Toronto? His head was still too foggy to put it all together.

“Well well,” said a voice from the barred doorway, “If it isn’t the infamous Garrett. You might have heard of me. I’m warden Stout. Because I’m stout. Get it? Anyway, we’ve only let you live so there could be a public execution. Not sure where we’ll do it. There’s not a spot big enough to hold more than twenty people anywhere in the City but we’ll figure something out. And just so you don’t get any ideas, no one makes it out of Pavement Lock prison alive. The few escapes we’ve had, well, let’s just say they’re dead now. No chance for an escaped prisoners here, we just cut ‘em down in the street. Along with any innocent bystanders who may happen to be standing there.”

He make a spitting sound toward Garrett, though nothing came from his lips.

Well, this is fine mess. Maybe if I pay attention I can find a way out. There’s got to be a secret switch or a way to climb out of this cell. He mentioned that a few people had escaped so it’s not impossible. I doubt those few just had a pair of keys handed to them.

As if on cue, a set of loud jangling keys drifted down the corridor toward his cell. Security looked pretty tight.

A grimy watch officer strutted into view, “Oh ho ho! If it ain’t Garrett himself! Well, you don’t look so clever to me. Personally I’m hoping you try to escape so I can kill ya myself next time you’re spotted.” He leaned the key belt against the cell, practically shoving them in Garrett’s face. Yep, security was pretty tight.

“It won’t take me long to figure out which of the three apartments in South Quarter are yours and then you’re going down!” he rambled on, “Oh, and if you’re thinking of stealing the keys off my belt, don’t think I won’t notice in an hour or so.”

Garrett made short work of nabbing the keys and recovering his equipment. There were some built in escape tunnels that he used to creep around behind the cells. When he emerged into the corridor, his absence in his cell, and the absence of the keys had gone unnoticed. But several guards stood between he and the door. Time for a distraction.

He crept over to a cell and unlocked the door. The guy looked familiar.

“Cutty?”

“Garrett! Your too late,” he let out a racking cough, “This damp and rot is in my lungs…”

He dropped dead at Garrett’s feet.

Well, that’s not gonna work…

He found Basso in the next cell, but as usual he was passed out.

My friends are useless…

Some woman in a white dress occupied the chamber across the corridor, maybe she’d make a run for it.

She looked up as the bolt clicked, “Aren’t you a little short for an Imperial Stormtrooper?”

“Look lady, you want out of here or not?”

“Are you here with Obi-Wan-Kenobi? Have you come to rescue me?”

“Uh –no. I was hoping you would create a distraction for me.”

“Then I’m not gong anywhere.”

Great.

Garrett nocked a noisemaker arrow and sent it flying back in the direction he’d come.

The guards jumped and split up. One in the direction of the noise, the other the opposite way. Oh well. Dealing with one was better than taking on two of them.

The guy was ready to fight so Garrett whipped out his knife as memories of childhood street fights came rushing back. He’d always been lousy with a sword, and his chances with a dagger weren't any better.

He tossed a flashbomb so he could draw first blood, but of course, one slash across the eyes magically restored the watchman’s sight. A few lunges here, a few parries there, and the guy slumped forward, bouncing off the floor a few times.

Must be on a rubber tree diet…

He didn't have time to reflect on his sudden adeptness with the dagger, or the impossibility of his winning a sword fight with it. Better not to think about those things.

Before the other guard could reach him, Garrett had picked the lock and disappeared into the shadows. Now to make it around the pit area.

Two large pit cells carved a narrow walkway around the outside and through the center of the room. Too many guards to sneak past in here. Garrett spotted a vial of banana daiquiri on a nearby table. An idea began to develop…

He rushed forward grabbing the vial and throwing the switch to one of the pits. As the gate opened, he shattered the vial on the narrow precipice between himself and the guards. They took the bait.

Amazing how slippery banana daiquiri could be, though Garrett himself was able to sprint across it with out losing his footing. Seconds later, the majority of Pavementlock’s staff safely in the pit cells, Garrett looted the place, and headed for freedom.

* This line stolen from Daniel Todd (IIRC) in a TTLG post somewhere pre-TDS release

Old Man on 18/12/2004 at 19:59

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Cutst. Cutst? Maybe if I sound it out.

Hey, now I can't get my tongue back in my mouth!

GlasWolf on 19/12/2004 at 02:32

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"Oh yeah, and quits stealings our stuffers."
Best episode yet!

Larcener on 19/12/2004 at 04:02

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You're brilliant! Plain and simple.
.
.
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I must bear your children.

Mugla on 24/12/2004 at 09:41

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Taffer! Ofcourse you get a holiday too! :D

Happies at you and your kin!