Post by The Stranger on Jun 28, 2008 15:05:49 GMT -5
The Good for Nothing brothel was near the bridge to the Arsenal, a small building where orphan boys were taken in and given over to wealthy men for an hour’s pleasure. One of those men was Lord Belnasi, commander of the Arsenal, and it was his secret delight and his deepest shame.
The Good for Nothing was owned and operated by the Sealord, though only Belnasi was aware of this; indeed, it had been built to cater specifically to Belnasi’s tastes. The boys were not treated gently, and there were so many orphans where they came from that the pimps thought nothing of beating the boys to death if the whim took them.
Some of the boys suffered the beatings and the rapes in silence. Others fought back, and one of the more rebellious, angry boys was Tollo, and finally one day he was flogged to within an inch of his life and thrown into a canal.
There were hundreds of others. Tollo could pay for his insolence. The pimps washed their hands of him and left Tollo to his fate.
He drifted down the canal, half-dead, for half a day before a boat rowed up beside him and gentle hands pulled him on board. He could hear quiet voices, and then someone put a warm hand on his forehead. Tollo realized he was shivering violently.
“Shh, boy,” said a voice softly. It was a man’s voice. “You’ll be taken care of. What’s your name?”
“Tollo,” he murmured, before he gave to his exhaustion and injuries and lost consciousness.
When he woke up, he was clean and his wounds had been washed and dressed, balms and salves rubbed into his skin. He wore a soft linen shift, and was in a feather bed under thick furs, in an airy bedroom with a fire crackling in the hearth. Tollo blinked drowsily, amazed. He wondered if he could be dreaming.
The door opened, and a man entered. He was of medium height and slender, a typical Braavosi, but with a rather forgettable face, with a very long, thick red beard which made it hard to discern his features. The man gave Tollo a smile. “Are we feeling better?”
Tollo was instantly suspicious. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Where am I? How long have I been here and what do you want with me? If you try to join me in this bed, I’ll kill you.”
The man’s smile faded. “You misunderstand. I am not here to abuse you as you were at The Good for Nothing. Yes,” he noticed Tollo’s expression. “I know where you are from. My poor child, that is no place for a young boy. You may call me Qarro, and you are at a house in the city. You’re safe.”
Tollo was silent, unsure.
“We have another use for you,” the man said, taking a seat by the fire. “Which will also allow you to get your revenge on your former masters.”
“What is this?’ Tollo asked warily.
“The Good for Nothing is Belnasi’s haunt, isn’t it? Have you…been chosen by Belnasi before, Tollo?”
Tollo reddened. “Yes,” he muttered. “Many times.”
Qarro nodded. “We will allow you to live here in comfort and secrecy, and pay you well, if you will spread the word of Lord Belnasi's predilections. With details of what he likes, and how long it has been going on. We will disguise you, and give you a new name, of course, to keep people from finding you. And we have other ways to keep you safe and out of harm’s way.”
Tollo was silent for a while. “How much will you pay me?” Qarro told him, and finally Tollo slowly nodded. “I can do that,” he said, feeling a vicious satisfaction building in him.
Result:
- Word is spread of Lord Belnasi’s secret preferences
- Aranya gains Noteworthy Political Intrigue