<em>What follows, gentle reader, is a true account of events in and around the district of Crow's Foot in Doskvol in Imperial Year 847 (all glory to His Majesty, the Immortal Emperor).  Out of compassion and respect for the heartfelt plea of those who survived these trials, certain names have been changed to discourage unwarranted intrusions.  Yet honesty demands, and integrity requires, that the rest be told exactly as it occurred.</em><br/><br/>To begin with, Roric was dead.  Slain by the jealous treachery of his own second in command.  She, one Lyssa by name, then found herself scrambling to hold on to what her victim had built himself with word and deed and iron will wielded against the petty squabbling rogues of Crow's Foot as a sergeant-at-arms uses a cudgel.  For Lyssa, though she held the loyalty of the Crows for a time, could not command the same as he...and the promises safeguarded by Roric had been made to him alone.<br/><br/>Contrary to popular wisdom, there is a sort of honor among thieves.  A pact is understood to live only so long as the one to whom it is sworn, and too soon after Roric breathed his last and fell beneath the inky waters of a Doskvol canal, two gangs who had sworn to leave their long enmity aside found reason to stir once again to old and bloody business...<br/><br/>-o0o- -o0o- -o0o-<br/><br/>So here you are, standing in one of the last places at least some of you want to be right now--the crowded office of Bazso Baz, leader of the Lampblacks.  Out the grimy glass windows, you can see the floor of the old coal warehouse below.  Around you, some of his bravos are lounging around, sizing you up.<br/><br/>Bazso himself seems quite at ease, grinning as he sips from a tumbler of fine whiskey.<br/><br/>"Fing is, ladies," he says, voice drawling a little as he warms to his subject, "I won't take the piss with you about this.  Roric was a<em>proper</em>villain.  A rough man when 'e 'ad to be, but fair enough if you minded yer manners an'  paid 'im what you owed.  Not like them shifty-eyed Iruvian toffs, play-actin' as if they're 'ard enough.  Ol' Roric set 'em straight, of course.  Showed 'em 'ow the world is.  An' credit where it's due, they showed a bit o' sense an' took 'is offer.  So long's Roric was around, I was willin' ta let 'em be.  Now that Lyssa's stuck it in for the man, that's all done wiff."<br/><br/>He finishes the tumbler and idly holds it out to one of his bravos, who tops it off from a decanter set on a shelf behind Bazso.<br/><br/>"Which brings me to the main reason for this 'appy little meetin' of ours.  Reckon you've worked it out already but it's got to be said proper.  Can I count on yer support when the time comes ta give them nandy boys a good kick inna fork?"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">What do you do?</div><div class="spoiler_body">What do you say? Will you side with the Lampblacks? Will you just pretend to? (Good luck, Bazso is <span class="bbc_u">very</span> sharp). Will you tell him to fuck off?  Are you actually here to kill him for the Red Sashes? (If so, do a flashback and pick a plan for the assassination.)</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">For Elise</div><div class="spoiler_body">Elise, honey, I notice that you've taken our friend Bazso as your rival.  However did this unfortunate situation come about?  And what has brought you back here, so close to the man? </div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Bazso</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/7e/2a/11/7e2a11ced85406c3b32a9981ed2e64ab.jpg)</div></div><br/><br/>