A New Night...

[Caleb Feren]

...Another Job

Quietly, he got up from the bed that he had been sharing. The past few days had been something he found he needed. There was a bit of peace that he had found, even if she was a storm. It was a storm that calmed his own, and one that he didn’t mind having.

Her fire had raged and danced during their night together, wild and near out of control. But once it settled, so did she.

He had found a bit of rest as she settled but it had been so long since he had someone share a bed with him that he found himself soon awake once more.

As he moved from the bed, he heard a vibrating coming from his duster. It was odd for someone to be calling this late, but it wasn’t unheard of. Stepping lightly and quickly, so as to not wake her, he quickly reached into the pocket and pull the phone, only to open it and place it to his ear.

“I’m listening”.

That’s how all of these jobs start. A phone call by a some random looking for a job to be done. This one was just like many others. Someone of power wanted someone else eliminated. When they started to go on about what they did and why, he quit listening. What care does he have about the politics or reasons behind it? It’s just a job.

“Hundred Thousand.”

Then the phone was hung up. There was no haggling and there was no not paying. Those who called him knew his reputation and what happened to those who didn’t pay. He was not the most expensive in the city, though he could be. He only asked for what he felt was reasonable. He didn’t care about being rich. Money only buys problems. Problems he would end up having to kill, and not get paid for it.

A glance back through the door found her still there. Her breathing wasn’t as deep, but it was still deep enough that he didn’t think she woke. Turning back, he quickly dressed and scratched a note to let her know he wasn’t walking out, and that he would see her tonight, if she wanted. A promise of dinner to make up for the missed breakfast as well.

Once done, he was quickly and quietly out the door. He had made sure that the hinges were well greased, and that proved useful now for more than one reason. The stairs were quickly descended and the ground was moving quickly under his feet.

History, and many beatings, had taught him to how move in the night. His former master had made sure that he would be worthy to inherit his teachings and legacy, and when the student had failed him, the master had no qualms about beating the student near to death for it. After all, in this line of work, one wrong move was death.

Soon enough, he was across the street from the contract’s door. He stepped back into the shadows of the buildings and waited. There would be plenty of time as the night still had some time to dwell. For a few hours, he stood there in the shadows, no movement at all, except for slow shallow breaths. Those who walked by never even gave a glance in his direction. Better a shadow in the dark than a statue. Statues are looked at, shadows are ignored.

As the witching hour arrived, he finally moved. Stepping quickly from the shadows, he moved across the street and into the alley next to the house. It was narrow, but not so small as to prevent a body from getting in. With deft hands, his hands found hidden holds and he scrambled up the wall to the third story. Wedging his body between the two buildings, he slid a hand into a pocket and withdrew the lock-picks. With contracts like this, he knew the windows would be locked. A few moments, and there was soon the soft *click* of the release. Slipping the tools back to their pouch and returning it to its place, he slipped a pair of leather gloves on and then set his hands to opening the glass.

He quickly slipped inside and stopped just to the side of the window. Once more he stilled and waited, letting time pass. He never knew if someone was a light sleeper and could have heard the catch of the window, but he didn’t want to take that chance. He was paid for discretion, not brutality.

After another half hour, he finally moved, stepping quickly through the unfamiliar web of furniture, rugs, and various items that littered the floor between him and his target. He tested each step, checking for a board that would give him away. Step by cautious step until he was next to his target.

From his pocket, he withdrew a string and a vial. He was fortunate enough that his target was a snorer tonight. It meant he didn’t have to work their mouth, which was always a danger. Slow, he drew the string out until it was just above the open mouth. Then he pulled the vial’s stopper and set the string within. With a steady hand and taught muscle, he tilted the vial and soon a bead of the clear liquid started to roll down until it finally found the end and dropped into the targets mouth. Then a second, a third… He stayed that way until the vial was empty and the string was dry. Then he coiled the string back up and stuffed it into the empty container before he corked it once more.

He turned and moved back to the window as he slid the container back into a pocket, following the exact same steps which he came in and slipped back out. Carefully setting himself between the buildings, he slid the glass back and then re-locked it. In a few moments, he was back down to the ground and looking out to the street. The false dawn was approaching, and there were a few people who were moving about for their morning routines. Timing things, he stepped into the street and moved, his shoulders hunched to reduce his height and taking a gait of someone who was lame in the left leg, but still pressing on to conduct their morning business, much like the rest of them.

Coming upon one of the many Rhy-bucks fortunately close to the target’s home, he turned and stood in line. He knew it would take some time for the Aconite to work, and perhaps a bit longer for the lady he was sleeping with to realize the man was dead. But there was coffee, and he now had time.

So, he got his cup and went to sit at one of the tables outside. As he settled, he heard the scream of despair come from down the street as the wife of his client found the man she was sleeping with dead… of a heart attack.

[Caleb Feren]

…Another Chance

As he walked down Kabuki, he couldn’t help but wonder what prompted him to send her a message, let alone ask her out to dinner. He had finally admitted to himself that he was interested. What man wouldn’t be? But there was something more to her, more than what was shown, and what he had learned. That she had magic, oddly, didn’t seem to bother him. It wasn’t that he despised magic, just what it had cost, and the bastard that had used it.

When he finally sent the message, he had sat there for a few moments, staring at it. He was sure she would have turned him down. She wasn’t the type to see anything in him but a good time, and good times come to an end. But she had accepted.

Now he was in a jam. It wasn’t like he knew anything to talk about. He was never one for small talk, and he definitely hadn’t been to a dinner with anyone but himself for a decade or more. Oh, and he had to figure out what to wear as well.

Fortunately, he had walked past a tailor earlier in the day, so here he was making his way back to it. His tastes were not cut for the finer clothes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to do it. As he stepped in, he removed his shoes and stepped onto the raised floor. He smiled as he saw the old lady there and gave her a bow of respect. She was deft in her hand and handiwork, and soon he was measured up and waiting. He watched as her hands flew across the fabric, sending needle and thread home with a practiced hand. Some hours and a few test fits later, he had walked out with a garment bag in hand and once more was walking down the street to his rented room.

Setting the bag to the bed, he stripped and stepped into the shower. His mind tried to go over all anything.. everything that he could talk about. Yet he kept coming up blank. He couldn’t talk about work. He could ask her about her, but he had learned to respect someone’s background and privacy. If she wanted to share with him, he’d let her bring it up. He stood there until the steam from the shower finally stopped, and then he killed the water and stepped out.

After drying, he finally pulled the clothes from the bag. It had been a while since he had something of this quality. He stepped into the black silk slacks, cinched with a black leather belt. Moving to the other side of the bed, he gathered up the holsters that housed the twin sickles and slid them on. Then he slipped into a black cashmere tee. He had protested with the lady about this, but she insisted she knew best, so he had finally relented. Surprisingly, it was not warm at all, and had enough play to it that the sheathes didn’t stand out.

After slipping on a nice pair of comfortable, and usable, pair of shoes, he looked at himself in the small shaving mirror. Yes.. it had been some time since he had dressed like this. Dropping the mirror back to the counter, he turned and slipped back out.

For a third time today, he found himself walking down Kabuki, but this time, to a pleasant evening… he hoped.

[Caleb Feren]

…Another Step into the Night
(References to the Nightside by the author Simon R Green. The Nightside is Green’s creation. I am just playing in it.)



It’s strange how close RhyDin resembles the Long Night… resembled, but wasn’t. There were still things which happened in the Long Night that even RhyDin wouldn’t allow. It wasn’t that it couldn’t be done, but there were certain morals to RhyDin. The Long Night had none.



He had finally drifted away from the party at the tower, letting her know that he was leaving. She seemed inclined to stay, and he didn’t have any say in the matter anyways. Yes, they had been with each other quite a bit as of late, but he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. So, he kept things in check. For now.

During his time at the party, a note had been passed to him. It was rare that he got a job this way, but it wasn’t unheard of. At one point during the night, he set his hand to his pocket, and found it there. Either someone really good had slipped it in, for they would have to be in order for him to not notice. Or, more likely it had been magic’s in.

Once he finally got through the portal and was once more walking the streets, he opened the note and read it. The hardness that he had allowed to relax had returned. He read the note again and the wadded it up and tossed it into one of the homeless fires as he passed.


A week or so had passed since he received the contract. It had taking him that long to accumulate the things which he would need to take care of this job. One simply didn’t walk into the Long Night unprepared. Not for a job like this. Besides, there was a few matters which he had promised to take care of for her, or at least help her in.

After that water tournament, and the marathon that followed, he slipped away while she slept. It was near dawn and she would stir soon. So, he made sure there was breakfast ready for her.

As he stepped out to the predawn, he looked around. For a brief moment, he thought about cancelling the contract, but that would ruin his reputation. No, he would take it on, and be damned any who stood in his way. Besides, this particular contract would allow him a chance to see about taking care of some other business… that of the personal kind.

He slipped into shadows and quickly moved through them until he was back in the flat he was renting. A quick change of clothes and some time going through his various tools and weapons had him soon moving once more in the night. He knew of a few places to cross, but the one he knew best was the one in Old Temple, in the old bastard’s library.

He knew that the place was its own nexus of sorts, much like RhyDin. It gathered knowledge to itself, and seemed to crawl with it’s on mysteries and time slips. Within the walls, there was a door that went everywhere and anywhere in this place, so long as you had the key, or were willing to pay for it, and that didn’t necessarily mean with money. Each door set its own price.

Finally reaching the library, he stopped and stood, looking the place over. It had been many years since he had come here, and the last time was to leave. But here he was again, this time for a job. One of these days he’d learn better, but it didn’t seem today was that day.

He climbed the steps and moved to the door. He knew they were open and would welcome all that came in, unless you were somehow on the “Unwelcomed List”, in which case you’d be lucky with leaving with just the hand missing. But he wasn’t that lucky, and the door didn’t take a bite as he reached out and tapped out a quick pattern. He wasn’t here for the books. He was here for the door and where it could lead.

As the final beat of the knock rang out, the door opened of its own accord, showing a place that wasn’t Tass’s Athenaeum.

Simon R. Green had written about this place. Green had described it as many things and in many ways, but the one that resonated with him was … “a place that was filled with hot neon and cold-eyed predators. Packed crowds hurried up and down the pavements, in desperate pursuit of pleasures that might not have a name but certainly had a price. The street was full of fever-bright colors and impenetrable shadows; shop windows full of dreams, only a little used; and any number of people more than ready to sell their souls. Our someone else’s.” People would walk past you with fever bright eyes, laughing and talking loudly, searching for their own pleasures and damnations… or profit from someone else’s. Dreams were sold by the pound, and hope came in all different colors. Love was for sale, on every corner. Love, or something like it. And there was no need to state Buyer Beware.

He stepped into the door that lead to Nightside.

[Caleb Feren]

…Another step into the Night (continued)

As he stepped onto the street, he paused a moment. The noise and the lights were enough to overwhelm near anyone, especially coming from the quiet he just stepped from.

But it was just a moment, then the predator was moving again, slipping through the crowds who were eager to find quick thrills and cheap boo’s, fast action and slow burns, so long as it was someone else who was paying for it. His steps shifted as he moved with the crowd, changing from one who was hunting to one who was moving. The Nightside never stopped, and neither did the crowds or traffic, but there was always someone who was looking for a quick means to take someone bigger than them down, if only to get a reputation to last them through their next fix. It was better to blend in than to stand out, at least for now.

Soon enough, he stepped from the throng and moved into one of the places that was blaring music and throwing lights as if that was the only thing keeping it there… and perhaps it was. You never knew when a business was going to vanish here. The music had a heartbeat all its own, and the lights that pulsed through the place had the feel of blood moving through arteries. The air was hot, and the people danced till they bled, then kept on going. Laughter was forced and money was free, or at least free flowing.

He skirted the crowd, slipping between people and things, and people who were things, until he reached the back, where a velvet rope and a large creature stood guard. With a quick exchange of words, and the passing of a few coins, and the velvet rope was set aside to let him pass.

The room into which he stepped had just enough light to let you see what you were going to step on, and the tortured faces of those who were not lucky enough to have enough money to pay for their tab. At the end of the room, behind a large mahogany desk, was woman who had hired him. She looks like an angel, but her being the head of this place told of a different story. Beauty could only go so far, but once the surface was cracked, most people wouldn’t be seen as people. The smile on her ruby lips couldn’t compete with the bat-shit crazy look that danced behind those eyes.

“You know, if it was anyone else who was late, I would have had them hunted down and brought to me so I could play with them. But not you, Caleb. You’ve proven valuable over the years, and I wouldn’t want to dispose of such a good tool.” Her voice was velvet soft, with razor blades sewn in.

“There were other matters to attend to.” He didn’t elaborate, and by the hardness in the edge of her eyes, she knew she wouldn’t get more out of him. “Who’s the contract.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He was here for only one thing.

“One of the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception. Despite their orders, some of the newer recruits come in now and then and let some steam off. This one, however, killed one of our bartenders when they went to collect the bill.”

He stood there a moment. He thought about questioning her why she didn’t just go to that girl’s superiors. And, by the smirk that she tried to hide, she was waiting for it. Instead, he let that question pass and chose another. “What is her name, and where can I find her?”

For the briefest of moments, she let her mask fall, and he saw the cruelness there on the outside as well. She had forgotten that he didn’t need details. He could figure them out on his own, if he really wanted them. But quickly enough, that sickly sweet smile was plastered on her face once more, and she nodded. “Her name is Mary Mordred. Yes, I know. No, don’t ask. Right now, she is at the Wolves Den, in your RhyDin. Any more information than that, I won’t tell you. It would only make your head hurt. It does mine. Now go. I’ve more work to do.”

It was all he needed to back out of the room. He didn’t turn till the door was closed, and even then, he stood there for a few minutes, just to make sure. He finally turned, and moved down the stairs, sliding around the velvet rope, the bouncer, and all the noise, because, lets be serious, it had mass in here.

Back on the street, he slipped back into the throng of people. His destination was the train station, but a sign caught his eye and he slipped off the main thoroughfare. The Gun Shoppes of Usher, a place where one can get whatever they need, if they are willing to pay the price.

Mr. Usher was there, standing just behind the counter, as he always was, no matter which of his shops you entered. Who, and what, he was, was anyone’s guess, and no one has won the betting pool yet. Dressed smartly, and respectable, if unremarkable, looking, Mr. Usher had an air about him of cultivated politeness. Like the head butler in some rich mansion, or an undertaker. Perhaps both, as he seemed to be in similar lines of business. He was a business man though. Everything was for sale, so long as you could afford it, and no amount of credit would do. When he spoke, you just knew you were going to buy something, but then again, you wouldn’t be in his shop if you were just browsing.

“Mr. Feren. It has been a while. For what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

Caleb didn’t hesitate. While he had the tools for the job, there were still better means and methods to go about doing it. Besides, there was something else that he wanted to have on hand… just in case. “I need two things. First, a perpetually poisoned blade. I want the blade to be able to change what the poison is to what I need at that time.”

“I believe I have something in the back that will match what you are looking for.” Where ever “the back” was, was anyone’s guess. But whatever was needed was always there, if it wasn’t out on display. “And the second?”

Caleb’s features went flat with the next request. There was nothing there except cold professionalism. Death held more excitement when it called than he did at the moment. “I need a blade that can separate souls, and if need be, kill one or more of them, yet leaves the other safe and intact within the body.”

“You understand, sir, that this will not work on the individual who you have previously requested something for.”

“I do. This is for another job.” Caleb kept that cold expression. There would be no passion, no hint that this could be a personal issue as well. It wasn’t, yet. But he had learned to make sure to be prepared for the job, whatever the job was, just in case.

“Very well.” Mr. User reached down and drew out an object from under the counter. As Caleb stepped closer, he could see it was just the handle and guard of a bladed weapon, but there was no blade. “The blade is there, but can only be seen in another plane. It is meant for souls, not the living.” Caleb nodded with the explanation, and in the same movement, agreed that he would take it. Mr. Usher produced a simple scabbard, and set the blade within. If he could see the blade or not, who’s to say, but there it was, wrapped in its sheath. “One moment while I go and get your other item.” Turning, Mr. Usher moved down the counter and through a door to the back.

No sooner had he left than he returned, carrying with him a black hilted blade, sheathed in a simple black leather wrapping. Mr. Usher set it down before Caleb on the counter, allowing for Caleb to take it to hand and pull it slightly out, exposing part of the blade. The steel was a sickly yellow color and emanated a breathing pulse all its own. The blade was shoved back into his place, and then it, and the other were picked up and places around his body. Then a stack of gold coins was withdrawn and set on the counter and a nod give. There was no need to ask how much it was, or count the coin. If you had to, you didn’t need to be there.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Feren.”

Once more out into the street, he continued his trek to the train station. There were few things that bothered Caleb, but one thing that did was the train, or more precisely, the things that were outside the train trying to get in once it left the station. The train itself was solid steel, with no windows, all the better to keep those inside from going mad…der. After an hour or so, quite a few screams, whispered promises, and rather large truck-sized fists slammed into the wall, the train pulled into the station in RhyDin.

Stepping back out into the light, he looked around.

It was time for work.



(Again, the Nightside is Simon R. Green’s creation. Some names and places come from his book series, and I do not claim any credit for them. If you haven’t read the series, I highly suggest the following, as all three series tie in to each other in a great way: Nightside; Secret Histories; Ghostfinders)

[Caleb Feren]

...Another step into the Night (End to this little story)

As he stepped from the Library’s doorway, he kept moving. There was no cussing, as much as he wanted to. The crawl of the Library’s magic was different than that of the portal for Twilight Island. This one was more personal. Not so much that it invaded him, but more of who it came from. He had felt that magic once before, and he still wasn’t sure if that was for good or ill. But he was not above using it when it mattered.

He quickly moved from the steps and back into the street. He didn’t want to stay around this place, no matter how useful it was. He did not want to see the old bastard, not just yet. He didn’t have an answer for him. But that would come.

Those steps carried him into the streets. There wasn’t much of a crowd around this time of day, but still there was enough that he was able to blend in and move with them. However, as he approached Westbridge, the crowd seemed to grow. Of course it would. Everyone was heading to Old Market. Funny that, so was he.

His first stop was to a clothing shop. It wasn’t that he couldn’t make due with what he was wearing, but he had been around town enough that most knew his look, and that wouldn’t do for this kind of job. When he stepped out from the shop, he was in homespun wool clothes and had a bag over his shoulder that hung down to his side.

From there, he moved with and through the crowd. He finally made his way to where he was looking. The Wolves Den. While it had made its new name with a food place in the fighting arena’s, the original was still a bar. He didn’t go in, though. Instead, he slipped into the shop across the street.

“’owdy sir. What c’n I be doin fer ya?”

Caleb looked towards the counter and gave his best smile, tempered with uncertainty. He widened his eyes as he looked around at the shop and all the tools there within. This place was a tool store, and for someone fresh from the farm, it must seem like a dream.

He turned his attention back to the dwarf behind the counter and pitched his voice a bit higher than normal, just to give more to the disguise. “H…H…hi sir. I’m new in t..town. Would you be l.. lookin for someone to h..h..help you?” He knew that the dwarf was looking for someone with a strong back. His usual helper had his back give out and would be bed-ridden for the next few weeks. That was just enough time for him to get what he needed.

“Yer in luck! I be needin a young mind and a strong back. If yew dun mind ‘ard ‘onest werk, the job pays five copper a week.”

Caleb took the moment to blink, looking taken aback like he hadn’t even thought about that. And then he smiled like it was a fine deal. Five copper! Wouldn’t mom and dad be so proud! “Thank you, sir! Thank you! What do you need me to do?”

The shopkeeper quickly put Caleb to work. It wasn’t skilled labor, but full on grunt work. He was moving boxes and crates, steel and tools. This continued on day in and day out, from sunrise to sunset. But this kind of work allowed him to move freely around the shop, both in and out, which allowed him to keep an eye on the Den across the street.

A few days in and he caught sight of his target. She was dressed as a nun with one exception… the sub-machine gun that was slung over her shoulder. When the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception were called to action, they brough the presence of God with extreme prejudice.

He watched her and her pattern for the next few days. She seemed to come each day after lunch and would leave again a few hours later. When she left, she headed towards Westbridge, and into the Old Temple district.

He kept the pattern up for another week. He came in, worked, watched, worked, and then headed ‘home’. And each day, she kept the same pattern. He learned that once she left, she was making rounds to various churches in Old Temple, and not all of them were devoted to the Christian God, and none of her visits were for enlightenment. She apparently was working on the side.

Soon enough, the old hand returned to work and began to slowly get back into the grove of his day to day, which left Caleb more and more time free. He didn’t hold any ill will towards the boy. And even offered to take him out for a drink on Caleb’s last day at work.

They headed across the street and entered the Den. Typical bar, nothing that stood out to him on first glance, but soon as he sat down for that drink, his play at being a wide-eyed country boy allowed him to look around and take note of those who were there, and the layout of the place. You had your usual bar flies, but there were a few people seemed to be a part of the place, and they were not behind the bar. Taking a look around once more told him everything he needed.

As Caleb and the lad finished their second drink, his target came from the back. He slid over the coin to pay for their drinks and slapped the boy on his shoulder. “Time I go find a new job. Take care and I’ll be seeing you around!” His steps were just ahead of the Sister’s, and he even held the door open for her, which awarded him a smile and a nod from her.

He quickly followed her out. “Sister! Pardon me, but would you happen to know of anyone who’s hiring?” I mean, why wouldn’t a country boy look for the aid of a Sister? They are supposed to be trustworthy, right? They talked about his skills and abilities, and what had happened with his last job as they walked. It wasn’t until they reached Westbridge that Caleb saw his chance. The crowd had thinned and the closest to them was still a few dozen yards off.

With deft speed, and skilled hands, that poisoned blade came out and slipped into the Sister, and back out again, hidden quickly back to its place. She didn’t even have time to blink, but there was a wince from her, and she doubled over. “Sister! Are you ok! What’s…” And that’s when she leaned towards the railing. He might have helped her that way, but not much. Her momentum carried her the rest of the way over the edge and he yelled. “Sister!” He watched as she twisted end over end until she hit the frozen water below, and straight through the thin sheet of ice.

People quickly were rushing towards where he was and he stood there, wide eyed. When he was asked what happened, he told them. “We were talking. She was going to help me with a job. Then she fell over!” There would be no lie told in that, and any truth finders in the crowd would see he was telling the truth. She had helped him with his job and she had fallen over.

He was the last of the crowd to leave, watching the waters quietly. Some probably thought he was simple, or that he was fearful of what would happen. Really, he was making sure that she didn’t swim to the surface. He was sure that the Aqua Tofana would work, especially delivered directly to the liver, but with the Sisters, one never knew. Hours passed and still he stood there. It wasn’t until midnight that he left his spot, and slipped back into the crowd, blending in once more until he was ‘home.’

His payment was waiting for him when he reached the door.

[Caleb Feren]

…Another...Barony?

When he was contacted to take the job, he didn’t expect this.

He had been contacted through a different means to take this job. And it was a job unlike his usual. He wasn’t supposed to kill anyone. Just challenge them and strip them of their title. He had been around the fights enough to know he didn’t want to deal with the politics… but he wasn’t going to turn down a job. That would not do well to his reputation, and he figured he only had to strip the target of their title. He didn’t have to take it on himself.

So, he had laid down the challenge and when the night came, he was ready. Even for the intercession that he expected to come. But the captain of the dueling team he was on had stepped in and cleared that challenge out, leaving him to face the target.

It was over, quickly. Quicker than he had expected. And in short order, he was told he was the new Baron. Wait, what?

He had given the ring to Karma for safe keeping. He didn’t want this title, and didn’t want what came with it. He didn’t accept the job for that. But here he was, and he had wanted to look to Karma to help him in some this. But at the same time, he didn’t want to burden her with this. It was enough that she held the ring. He didn’t do jewelry, and if nothing else, if she liked it, he would see that she kept it, or had it quickly replaced with something similar.

He had waited until it was official, then he stepped into the manor that he had apparently won.

He didn’t move far before a letter was presented to him. He was told it was left for him by the previous Baron. He read it, then looked to the one who presented it. They were already moving away from the manor. Well, they would be no help right now.

He turned back to look to the manor from his place there inside the door.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

[Caleb Feren]

…Another Step into the Unknown

He had spent some time at the baronial manor. Not enough to feel like it was a place to stay, but enough. However, when he had lost it, he could tell that it had bothered Karma. More so her than himself.

Then she had lost the tower. He knew that had devastated her. Either because of businesses she had within or because it had felt like some place she could call her own, he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he was going to do something about it.

The day after her challenge, he was up and moving early. To say that wasn’t normal would be a lie. He was always up and moving early. However, this morning he had an agenda, and it wasn’t a contract.


While he held that barony, he had at least taken the time to walk the district. And back to that district he went, for he had found a place that could help him with his task this morning. The young lady who he had met during his walk-about had a no-nonsense attitude, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. And that was someone he was going to need.

The door gave a ring as he pushed it open and she yelled from somewhere beyond the front room. “Just a moment!” Soon enough, the woman stepped to the front room, wearing pinned striped business suite, and her red hair tied back. “How can I… oh, it’s you! Have you decided to take me up on my offer?” See? No-nonsense.

He eyed her for just a moment and gave a nod. “I have.” No sooner had he spoke those words than he set a piece of paper down on the desk. “Requirements. Money is not an issue.”

You could see her light up with those five little words. “I’ll get right on it, Mr. Feren.”

He nodded, then turned and pushed the door open and strode back out into the Market.

For better or worse, it is done.

[Caleb Feren]

…A New Deed Done

She had been relentless. Since he had approached her, she had been single minded in her quest. Calling without regard to the time. Pursuing him when he wouldn’t answer the phone.

If he hadn’t brought it on himself, he would have been impressed. He would have to keep her in mind for future jobs. He could use that talent elsewhere.

He looked down at the phone in annoyance, but answered it. “What, Ms. Dumo.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and he was sure the irritation bled through. It has been a week of non-stop with her. He thought he had made it clear to her last Wednesday, but apparently, she didn’t bother to take him seriously. At least that was the impression he was starting to form. Useful or not, he was going to have to do something about this.

“I’ve got it! Everything you specified and more. I’ll send you the information.”

“No you d…” the phone dinged in his ear, letting him know he had gotten a text message. “…on’t need to. I’ll come by your office.” He didn’t bother to hear her response, as he closed the phone. He had told her that information over the phone was useless to him, but again, she didn’t seem to listen.

By the time he approached her office, she was standing outside waiting on him. There was an energy about her, more so than usual, that made her seem to almost vibrate in place. As soon as she saw him, she took off towards him, and immediately grabbed his arm, hooking hers into his, and were it not for her determination, it would be funny to see if this whisp of a woman could move him if he planted his feet. But he didn’t, and he moved on with her.

It was about an hour’s walk outside of the city gates before they had arrived. She had already rushed forward as soon as she knew they were within sight, and as soon as he turned the corner, she was bouncing, watching his reaction. He had schooled it, just to irritate her, so when there was no reaction, she actually deflated.

But he didn’t stop his steps and walked past her. “We’re here. Might as well tell you what I don’t like.” In all honesty, he was impressed with what he had seen so far. It was far enough away to be annoying for someone to come by, but close enough that it wasn’t a burden. And the building before him was made from old-grove trees, and was situated in a wild forest.

As he moved through the place, he paused in each room. He looked them over with a practiced eye, noting each detail until he turned and moved on to the next. And each time, Ms. Dumo watched for a reaction, or a comment, anything really. But he didn’t give anything to her. Let her suffer.
Finally, he came to the last room and looked upon it, and out through it to the land beyond. “Acrage?” His first word since they had arrived.

“Over ten thousand. You said you wanted land.”

He had. That meant that the mountain he saw in the background was on this property.

He stood there for a long moment, staring out at that lone mountain. Was he doing the right thing? What would she think of this? He didn’t want to push her away, or make her feel he was rushing things, but he wanted to make sure she had some place that she could call her own, even if he was not in it.

To hell with it.

He turned and looked at the woman. “Done. Get the paperwork completed by the time I’m back at your office.” His stride quicky came and he was moving out the room, and soon enough, out of the house, leaving her standing there, blinking and stammering like she had just been hit. If he was going to employ her, she would have to fix that.

Now, it was time to go find Karma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside Approach

Library One

Library Two

Garden One

Garden Two (looking onto the Dojo)

Dojo-Tea House looking out onto another Garden

Abandoned Tower at the base of the Lone Mountain

[Caleb Feren]

Story playing off of Don't Forget, Karma.
Thank you Karma for allowing me to be a part of your wonderful writing!

...Another Purpose

He stepped back then, giving a nod, then he slid the blades home and turned, walking out of the ring and back to the bar.

He paused as he looked at the note. I’m so sorry.

He gave it a quick read, then turned. Not seeing her in the room, he grabbed his jacket and that stride was soon eating ground as he moved out to find her.


He was as frantic as he had been in a long.. long time.

Soon as he left after her, he thought he had her trail, but it quickly vanished. That meant magic, and truth be told, he wasn't prepared to track magic this night. He should have been. He had been trained to always be prepared for anything and everything. But he had gotten lax. He had gotten complacent. He had gotten... in love.

Even with Nem showing her hand, he had figured he would have had time to talk with her, to deal with her, after the tournament. But she had not given him that option, and he would be making it up to Karma for years after this. There would be years, damnit!

He had searched all night and well into the dawn. He had gone to the Ranch and searched not only the main grounds, but the outlying tower as well. He had gone to the Isle and searched it. Old Market. Old Temple. Dockside. Battlefield Park. Seaside. New Haven. The only district he didn't search was Cadentia, and that would come.

At each district he searched, questioned, paid and threatened. There would be a trail of bodies and money by the end of the night, but he didn't care. He would deal with the aftermath later... and pay those who needed to be paid for any information that was sent his way. He had burned a lot of bridges and favors, not that he had many to begin with.

Now, here he stood. In front of the once place he didn't want to be. Swore he would never turn to the old fucking bastard again. But here he stood.

His stride ate the ground and the steps, and he kicked the door to the Library open.

The lady's only reaction behind the counter was to frown at him. She knew she was safe, but still, to cause this kind of disturbance... "How can I hel.."

"Tell that old fucker to find her."

"I'm afraid I.. "

"He will know." Then a blade came out and sliced across his palm and slammed a bloody print down on the counter in front of her. "I'll do the rest. He just needs to find her." The next word was almost torn out of his throat. "Please."

Then he turned and stormed out of the Library. He still had things to prepare.

[Caleb Feren]

Control is something that he always had. Well.. since after the night his sister was killed. That was the last time he had lost it, and he had worked hard to make sure that he was always in control.

But he had almost lost it last night.

He had gone to the fights to blow off some steam. To get this head back into things. But first the fight with Sal, then the one with that girl... He could still see the fear in her eyes, smell the terror and worry in the air. No, he had come too close last night to losing it.

Now here he was, sitting just outside of Miso's sipping at some sencha, trying to center himself once again.

He had made the rounds once more, and once again he had avoided going to Cadentia. He was still weighing things on that. Of the places he went, though, none which he had threatened or paid the night before had seen or heard anything. She had vanished, for the moment, and had taken the one he loved with him.

He was going to find her... them.

Even if it cost him his soul this time.

[Caleb Feren]

Tass stood there in the shadows. He had been quietly watching from a distance of this for a long time. Well, truth be told, since Caleb returned.

When Caleb had come looking for his help, he finally sighed. The time had finally come.

He watched Karma as she stood there watching the match. Well, not Karma. But that didn't matter to Caleb. The one who was there was using her. And while he could do something it, he wasn't going to. This was something that Caleb had to see through.. with Karma.

He quietly continued to watch her, and the matches, until the end, and when all was said and done, he watched as she vanished. He stood there for a long moment, still watching where she stood, and perhaps where she went. He could step in.. but he wouldn't.

He turned and then stepped back into the shadows, only to appear in the Library. There, he actually picked up a phone. He didn't need to, but he did.

Caleb sat there in the dojo at the Ranch. He had been losing it, and he needed to find that center again. He needed to have his wits about him for dealing with this and things. Going around and killing and threatening and all the other things he had been doing the past few nights wasn't going to get any answers. In truth, it would likely cause more problems. Fortunately, he had made sure to keep his tracks covered, though there would be some who would be asking questions.

Breath. In... Out...

He let his mind play over the past few days. Not so much the killing, but the words that were spoken. The conversations that were had. He played over each word again and again, trying to find something in them that he might have missed. He knew someone had to know something.

Breath. In... Out...

Slowly, he let all the noise go. Slowly, he found quiet. Slowly, he found his center.
Then the phone rang.
He reached down and picked the phone up, flipping it without looking at the screen. "I'm listening."

"Keep breathing. The time will soon come."

Breath. In... Out...

[Caleb Feren]

Another night he had held himself in reserve.

Another night he had stayed at the Ranch and centered himself.

By no means was he laying off, however. During business hours (the regular folks, not his), he was making trips and gathering items. He even went in to the Long Night yesterday in order to pick up a few more items. He didn't know all about the one who he was going to be going against, but he knew enough and what he felt he needed to prepare for.

It had cost him a fair amount of cash, but he bought a new duster. This one, while with all the usual things he required of them, had a different lining within it. He didn't ask what it was made of, and he didn't want to know. All he needed to know was that it would protect what it covered from magic.

Of course, he knew that was a general term, and he had not been specific in the requirements. Fire, in general, but that's all he knew. So he had made it broad-based in the requirement, hoping that a little protection against everything would be enough. He'd have to find out.

He thought on the call he received last night. She had been spotted again, this time in the Arena... in the Old Temple skybox. So she still had the ring with her. Perhaps he could use that to track her. He would have to do some investigation to see if there was any mechanism on those things that would allow for tracking. He doubted it, but without looking into it, he wouldn't know for certain.

Time. Time was not on his side, but all he could do right now was train, prepare, and wait. She had been prodding at him with this game of cat and mouse. It was only a matter of time before she made a move and then she would see this mouse had no problems facing down cats.

[Caleb Feren]

Post taken from the Outback just after Karma's win, and followed up later with play with Jaycy. Thank you ALL who were involved, even those who I didn't post words for here below. And Karma, I'm still so sorry! I'll make this up to you. Jaycy, you too!)

Ring Belladona 5: Strawberry scores! (FeFL / FDU | 4 - 0, Strawberry leads.)
"Karma brings us right to Match point, again off the back of deception. One point away from taking the Rock! However, don't count Eden out of this as she could walk it back to a Sudden Death!"
"Karma, yer one away! Eden, get on the board 'n' walk it back!"
“Come on, Eden! You’re still in this! You can do it!”

The noise from the crowd was a background as he stood there, watching her match. But as she reached one point away from obtaining that damned rock, he knew he had to do something. If Nem got her hands on it… well, he wouldn’t let that happen.

He continued to move. There was an almost imperceptible movement to his steps, but he kept stalking slowly towards that ring.

"It isn't a clear cut shut out, but Karma and Eden go blow for blow in the final exchange to determine the fate of FireStar tonight! Karma comes out ahead in the second match to win it!" A beat. "Congratulations to you Karma! And Well fought and defended to you Eden!"

Caleb watched as she willingly traded violence for the sake of ending it.

He kept moving, even as her words carried. "Thank you for the match." Her voice came as she inclined her head first to Eden and then to Charles. "Thank you for your services." Without looking his way, she points a single finger at him. A bit like one might when telling someone to stay where they were. Down boy. With her motion, he froze. But those muscles were taut. Almost as if he was waiting for something.

Eden looked to Karma, "Oh, I have a thing for you now!" She reached into the pocket of her pants and produces the red rock, offering it over to Karma. Karma’s golden eyes seemed to light up as she took the rock gingerly between index and thumb. "Finally." Quietly. Her fingers curled around the rock as she gives Eden a small smile. "I've been waiting a long time for this one. Thank you."

That was the moment he was waiting for. His muscles exploded and he moved forward, his hand reaching out towards Karma’s as she took the stone, before she had a full grip on it.
K
arma had just curled her fingers around the rock when he came barreling her way. "What is wrong with you!" If she could, she was definitely going to take a swing at him.

Caleb didn’t respond to the question. His focus was singular as he used all his past experiences to take that rock from the hands of the one who wasn’t. Karma tucked her thumb into her fist to keep it from being used for leverage, tightening her fingers further. The rune on the back of her hand flared red and burned him as he gripped her. Quietly Nem hissed at him. "Let. It. Go."

His voice finally came, and it was flat. “You first.” Though that voice was flat, there was a tightness around his eyes, both for the burning and for what he was about to do.

"You're really going to take this from her?" Nem voice came quietly, likely only loud enough for him to hear. Hand still tight, she used her free hand to try and leverage his off of hers. "You're hurting me." Yes, he was. He twisted her wrist quickly, and set his thumb between the tendon’s there now exposed, pressing hard and deep into that pressure point, forcing the hand open. Karma twisted with the motion, emphasizing his own momentum against her wrist until a sickly snap issued from the cartilage in her wrist. A pained squeak issued from her lips and she jerked back, trying to jar his grasp before the rock slipped her grip.

“From you... not her.” He took that split second moment to snatch the rock, only to toss it away... towards the one who he hoped would be trusted with it... Jaycy.

Jaycy stood at the edge of the ring. She had moved closer to it, watching intently what was now going on, but had not yet entered it. When Caleb tossed that rock her way, that frown shifted quickly, and she blinked as she caught the Opal as it came at her.

"He's mad that I won." Karma’s voice came through gritted teeth and kicked him when he snatched the rock. "I earned it, it's mine!" Caleb, with his attention for that moment off of her, grunted and folded with the kick. His eyes, however, stayed on Jaycy. “Hold it till Karma is back.” Was that pleading in those eyes? Jaycy took several steps back, nodding slightly at Caleb's words, with that Opal clutched tight in her hands. Caleb had let go of her when she kicked him... but he had done what needed to be done. At least what he could. He wouldn’t see that in the others hands. WHEN he got her back, he would make sure he gave it to her, and beg forgiveness if he had to.

Gatito jerked a little, hearing Karma’s joint breaking, and looked toward Karma and Caleb. “What is going on?” Finally asking. "I'm thinkin' that's not our Karma." came Collie’s response.

With Caleb’s attention elsewhere, and that kick landing, it gave Karma an opportunity to pull away from him, nursing her wrist against her chest. "Am I not?" She asked with a plaintive look Colleen's way. "I'm just the same girl that tended the bar in the Arena on Monday nights. Saaaaaaame girl that helped Harris turn Old Market into a fucking hellscape for the people that lived there. People seem to forget those two Karmas are one in the same."

Collie eyed Karma at that. "That Karma didn't didn't speak o' herself in the third person. She was never anyone's slave."

Eden, having watched what was going on, and still unsure of things, called over to Karma. "You wanna come out for cheeseburgers?" Asked not like her usual invitation, but rather as if as a personality test. As Eden question came, Jaycy made a sudden, split-second decision, She - and FireStar - disappeared in a minor flash of rainbow light.

Karma was about to answer Eden when-- "God damnit!" She hissed when Jaycy disappeared, turning to point a finger at Caleb. "You should have let it go. Remember that promise I made you? You just fucked my last shot at keeping that, so this is on you." No answer for Colleen, she didn't even go get her jacket. Instead, there was just a loud crack as she disappeared in a burst of displaced energy.

Her words... it was like Caleb was gutted, and the blade twisted a few times before it was ripped out. He stood there a moment. A long moment... and collected himself. Piece by piece, shadow by shadow, he wrapped things back up and pulled things back together. Until he stood, back straight, and more business than he had been before. It was almost as if he had stepped backwards, in time, and in mind. Those dead eyes looked to where she had been standing. “So be it.” Said the Assassin.

Jaycy’s return was heralded by a second minor flash. Immediately, she turned to peer for Caleb.

Caleb turned and there was a different gait to the way he moved. It wasn’t that he was ignoring those who called out. It was that he was focused. The Assassin hadn’t walked in 16 years. Tonight, he returned. He took up the jacket that she had left and kept moving, stepping out the back.

"Caleb!" Jaycy called as she moved to follow. "Why did I just take an Opal from what seemed to be the new holder?" His voice came back just before he stepped out. “That wasn’t Karma.”

Jaycy wasn’t going to let this go. "And how do I have authorit --" Following him out.



Jaycy rushed headlong after Caleb, dashing through the door and allowing it to slam shut of its own volition behind her. "--y to take an Opal from someone who, for all intents and purposes, has just legitimately won it?" Her head swiveled lightly even as she talked, looking for the figure that didn't have much of a head start. Even better, she did have that measure of enhanced speed thanks to the draconic blood coursing through her. Spying him after a few seconds, she reached to grasp something - anything - that would stop him so that she could gather the answers she felt she needed. "I did it for now, Caleb, but..."

The Assassin stopped. It wasn't that she had caught him, but even the cold blooded killer knew that he owed this much to someone he had just thrust into this. He turned, and those flat grey, not hazel.. grey eyes look to Jaycy. "That was not Karma. Her body, perhaps, but not her."

Jaycy’s hand dropped and she drew herself up, padding forward another foot so she could easily talk in quiet undertones. They were in public, after all, and who knew what could be lurking in the shadows around them.... especially since they, combined, had just absconded with an important artifact. "Aye, I get that." Response simple. "But we've had proxies and people possessed before and we, as employees of the sport, haven't denied them rights to something they've won through sanctioned fighting in the rings." Frowning, she shook her head lightly. "You're asking me to ignore the rules here and not give whoever it is something they have, according to those rules, earned. I get that it's not her, but I need a damn good reason to continue to not give it to her. One that I can tell Matt, when it inevitably comes up through complaint."

Caleb’s eyes eerily locked on Jaycy, even as she moved. Everything was taken in about her as she came closer, and he continued to hold those muscles taught, either to attack or to open ground between them, if it came to that. As she spoke, he listened, then there was a slight shake of his head. "I'm asking you, as a member of the Outback staff, to watch after that cursed rock until I get the real Karma back. When that happens, I will deal with any and all problems that come up because of this." And his words carried weight with them. He was going to be dealing with things from tonight in more than just this light. And he would be dealing with having to explain to Karma what happened to her wrist.. because of him... not to mention that rock itself.

Jaycy was tense, too, half ready in her own fight or flight mode. She wouldn't attack him but she would, of course, defend herself. "And if the situations were reversed, what's the first thing you - as a possessed person - would do? Demand the rightful return of the thing. And if I said no, what next? You might possibly attack me and then I'd be forced to defend myself, even shifting if I had to." Unspoken in that was a reference to Tass, to the destructive he - they both - could be. "This goes beyond staff; you're putting me in a possible position where I may have to injure or even try to kill someone ... the body of someone you very much care for... in defending myself. As a staff member in the Outback, I have no right to decide who touches that Opal. As a fighter, as a person, I can kill her." Seeking to meet his gaze, she remained that full 4'11". In fact, she almost seemed an inch or two taller than that, her presence filling the space around her. "I need something more than 'hold it until I get her back.' What if that takes years?" She assumed, of course, he would find her. It just might take a lifetime.

"If you are unable or not up to the task..." Caleb’s voice was flat. He knew what she was, and that didn't seem to both him in the slightest. It wasn't that he could take her, but he had already accepted that he might die fighting one dragon.. so why not another? But that wouldn't be today. He would see to it that Karma was back first. "... then give the rock to someone who is."

Jaycy snorted, and shifted, folding arms across her chest in more casual of a stance than she actually felt. “While I appreciate the play to try and get me to do it to prove how ‘capable’ I am, that’s not how this works. If I can’t keep it because of either rules or because of danger to Karma, I’m sure as hell not going to put someone else in danger on your pleading.” She paused, frowning as she uncrossed her arms and set hands at her hips instead. “Do you even have a plan to get her back?”

Caleb considered her words, her questions, but only choose to address a part of them. "If you, of all people, don't understand the danger that rock, those rocks, are, especially in the hands of someone who is not themselves, then my intel was mistaken and I chose poorly in my request." Those eyes held nothing within them, even with her goading of his request, his plead for her help, just a few moments ago.

“Oh, I well understand,” Jaycy responded easily, unmoved by that goad. “But if you don’t appreciate the danger that I am even without an Opal then you need to do your fucking research better.” For someone so short, she could have a mighty tall ego these days. “That is the only reason I took it in the first place. But you’re not giving me a reason to keep it... unless you want her killed.” A pause for effect and she continued. “And I will eat her, too. She smells delicious.” A lifted brow accompanied the tinged dark smirk she offered him. At least for a moment; she softened slightly. “You’re fucking desperate, Caleb, and that makes you fucking worthless to her right now. Where’s the assassin we both know you are? Keeping the Opal from her isn’t going to make it any easier for you to save her. Make it a fucking job.”

"It was never about making it easier. It was about keeping a weapon out of the hands of the one who has her." Caleb’s voice was cold and he stepped in on her, and his voice was nothing but business. "And I don't give a shit if you're the bastard's or not. Hurt her, and I will kill you too." He stood there long enough to make sure she understood the weight of his words, then he turned and started moving again.

“Then she gets the Opal if and when she asks for it.”

"Then, Governor, that hell is on your head." Then he slipped once more into the shadows.

Jaycy snorted, casting one final parting shot. “I’m not the one that has to give a shit or worry about getting her back.” She disappeared in her own flash of rainbow light.