The party agrees that travelling to Korvosa in pursuit of the Red Gull and its cargo of plague rats is the right thing to do. Malvick, returning to the city of his birth, haunted by the faces of dead comrades, took a break from his companions during most of the trip. He had a lot on his mind.
On one of the nights Malvick took Ariva out for a walk on the deck late that night. The wind cut across the deck like a razor but the meaning of a phrase like that had changed quite a bit after the ordeal with Iron Briar. He felt his chest again for scarring. Malvick was still thinking about how such a man could fall the way he had, with the position in Magnimar he held. When had it all began?
The crew had changed to the night shift on the Direption. All that could be heard were the crashing waves and blistering wind. Malvick and Ariva went and took cover by an outer wall near the bow, protecting themselves from the elements. Malvick sat down and supported his back while Ariva slumped down at his feet immediately going to sleep now that she was out of the wind. Malvick had bought a wool cloak cheap from one of the crew as settlement on a poker game. He drapped it over Ariva.
There weren't many clouds tonight. The wind didn't allow them. Malvick took out a small hunting knife and a few blocks of wood and placed them beside him. He then dug in another pocket revealing a small, smooth, cream coloured item. No one bothered them and why should they. A cloaked man in a leather witch hat with a small horse resting at his feet. Nothing would come from that after midnight, especially while the witch man carved into a block of wood with a rat skull as his model.
***
It was cold outside and pitch black. The clouds had blocked the moon entirely, but as Malvick stumbled out of the bar he felt the wind pick up and he knew it would be a clear morning. Korvosa's regular night guard was taking their day off seriously, and the hunter didn't want to disappoint his new colleagues by skipping out.
He definitely wasn't used to this though. Malvick's time in the rural areas with the family kept him from all this. He drank with his father after hunting, but not like this. An attempt to grab a railing to steady himself ultimately failed, and Malvick was suddenly feet over ass.
He sat for a moment watching the clouds, but it just looked like dark masking dark. Sitting up he thought to himself "Where is she? She always disappears on me with crowds. That's going to have to stop."
Dusting himself off Malvick started to walk back to the barracks that had been temporarily set up while the city fixed the old ones. A few fires and attacks on the militia had pushed the city to recruit and that's why Malvick was here; some experienced help that didn't cost too much.
The roads were fairly quiet until Malvick happened upon the mouth of an alley. The hunter's ears tuned by habit. "Listen, you're brother has screwed us for the last time. He got most of our money and he gives us this junk. A half wit gnome could do better! The trigger doesn't even work." A swift sound with an ending thud could have only been a boot to the ribs.
The sobbing was almost inaudible. "I've told you... *gasp* a thousand times... he won't... he won't... it doesn't matter. I can't help you..." THUD.
"Well we're going to let him know how things end up with family when he pulls this crap." Came a second, calmer voice.
The laugh coming from the victim was almost pathetic yet resolute. It seemed like the person they wanted to get to wouldn't understand the message. At least that's what Malvick gathered through the sudden, strange laughter.
Malvick tensed and slowly moved into the alley. The hunter never liked odds against what he assumed was the underdog. He was off duty but this felt wrong and he couldn't keep on his way.
Ten feet into the alley a shadow bolted behind Malvick across the opening. Whatever it was Malvick felt it, but it moved on and he kept his slow pace. Crates lined the walls and he moved along it to get as close as he could without the two assailants noticing him. One crate had been pulverized and he picked a piece of it up to use as a bat.
The small man between the two thugs wasn't moving anymore. He had taken quite the beating.
"Hey, what are you guys up to down here?" Malvick said sarcastically as he began to swing. The one thug with his back to Malvick turned around to suddenly see someone behind him. The wood almost took off his nose and ripped his lip open. As he fell to the floor the second thug gasped as Malvick whistled and pointed at him. "Get it girl!"
A galloping was heard from the mouth of the alley as two eyes and white fangs came flying. Malvick knelt as the Sheppard used his back as a spring board and the second thug was suddenly on his back after being hit by a 70 pound dog. Arms, legs, face, they all got bit, ripped, or pierced, Malvick never really found out.
"That's enough Braks! Heel!" Instantly the dog retreated and came back to Malvick.
"What the... What the... get the hell away from me! Who are you!?"
Malvick stepped forward and the thug pulled a knife while prone, his partner unconscious. "Whoa," Malvick gestured with both hands, "I wouldn't. I'm just getting whoever this is you've done a number on. Trust me, I point at you and then snap my fingers and you're dead." He motioned to the dog. "I've seen her go at a boar's throat. It takes me hours to clean her up."
Malvick lifted the small man. Now that he was closer he saw it was an elf. He could have been a teenager for all Malvick knew but elves were tricky when it came to age. For all he knew this one could have been 90. He considered taking the elf to the infirmary, but Malvick was new to the guard and didn't know the elf's backstory so in the end he went back home. He had a few days leave left so it wouldn't be strange for him to be gone. Braks was close at his heels, watching side to side as they vanished from the city.
A few days later after the elf had healed and regained some strength Malvick found out his name was Masfaul. He was a spy and thief who usually kept to the rooftops of the city. It turned out his brother, whom he hadn't seen for weeks, was passing off gadgets that usually weren't half made for full price. The brother was named Causefaulha, a thief too which Malvick didn't think surprising after hearing the classic orphan history. The gadget making brother was more into gnomish tricks and had a bit of an affinity for contraptions and magics. It just sounded to Malvick like good brother, evil brother, but Malvick kept that to himself.
While heading back to the city with Malvick, Masfaul presented him a small smooth object that he pressed firmly into his hand. Malvick opened him palm and saw... a rat skull. He looked at it and snickered a bit. "What is this?"
Masfaul looked offended, "I owe you. I could have been dead today. If you ever need something, and I mean anything, give this back to me."
Malvick looked at the small animal skull and back at the elf. He could tell this was a serious matter although he never found out why "Okay."
That was a start of an interesting relationship. No one from the guard ever knew of Masfaul, while Malvick paid him often for information and tips throughout Korvosa. Half of the information Malvick had on anyone and everyone was Masfaul's doing.
***
Malvick was snapped back to the present by the yelling of a crew member walking by him. From the sounds of it, it seemed this man's relief had slept in. The sun was creeping over the horizon and Ariva still hadn't moved an inch, content under her cloak.
His back ached from his impromptu back rest, after sitting against it all night. Looking down at his lap littered with wood shavings he sheathed the small knife. He put the rat skull back in his pocket and inspected his three creations.
"Three down, one to go." Ariva raised her head and let out a giant yawn that molded into a bark. "Good morning girl. Did you sleep well?"
