The night air in the Kerkhof Ferry District was thick with tension. The narrow, cobblestone streets were illuminated by flickering lamplight, casting long shadows that danced on the brick walls. Captain Marieke de Vries, of the Iron Guard, her uniform crisp and her eyes sharp, stood at the edge of the district’s marketplace, which was now eerily deserted. She knew the area well—too well, in fact—and tonight, it was Mandrill's activities that had pushed her to the edge of patience.
A few feet away, leaning casually against a market stall, was Splinter Hawthorne, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her weapon. Splinter, leader of the Ithosian Talons mercenary company was known for her expertise with a crossbow and her loyalty to her city guard friend, Marieke. Her keen eyes scanned the surroundings, ready for anything. They were a formidable pair, and they had faced worse than Mandrill’s thugs before.
From the shadows, Mandrill emerged, his vibrant fur contrasting sharply with the dark surroundings. He wore a crimson hat with a long feather, slightly askew, giving him an air of nonchalance that infuriated Marieke. Flanking him were two of his enforcers—hulking figures with the unmistakable air of hired muscle.
“Captain Marieke de Vries,” Mandrill purred, his voice smooth as silk, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Pleasure, Mandrill?” Marieke’s voice was icy. “I wouldn’t call it that. Your thugs have been causing trouble in my district. Smuggling, illegal gambling rings, extortion—the usual. But this time, they crossed the line.”
Mandrill’s eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them hardening. “I run a business, captain. Perhaps some of my associates have been... overzealous, but we all have to make a living, don’t we?”
Splinter stepped forward, her crossbow now drawn and held casually at her side. “Overzealous? They beat a merchant nearly to death because he couldn’t pay your ‘protection’ fees.”
Marieke took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. “I let you operate because you stay out of my way and keep things quiet. But now, you’ve made it my problem, and you don’t want to be my problem.”
Mandrill’s tail flicked, a sure sign of his irritation, but his voice remained calm. “I assure you, captain, I had no intention of causing a disturbance. Those involved will be dealt with. Consider this an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“No misunderstanding, Mandrill,” Marieke snapped. “You want to play your games in the Starfire Hill District, that’s one thing. But Kerkhof Ferry District is off-limits. I’ll tolerate your ‘business’ as long as it doesn’t interfere with the lives of the people here.”
Mandrill’s thugs shifted uneasily, glancing at each other. The Tabaxi's eyes flickered to Splinter, whose grip on the crossbow tightened. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like violence might erupt.
But Mandrill was a shrewd operator. He knew when to push and when to pull back. He raised a paw, signaling his men to stand down. “Very well, captain. Consider your message received. I’ll ensure my associates understand the boundaries. I'll send Yonkers.”
Marieke took a deep breath at the mention of that name. “Nobody else has to die. Look, next time, I won’t be here to talk. I’ll be here to shut you down.”
Mandrill tilted his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “You’re always welcome to try, captain.”
With that, he turned, his enforcers falling in line behind him as they disappeared back into the shadows from which they came. Marieke watched them go, her jaw set.
Splinter moved to her side, lowering her crossbow. “Think he got the message?”
Marieke let out a slow breath. “He got it. But Mandrill’s always looking for the next angle. We’ll have to stay one step ahead.”
Splinter nodded, her eyes scanning the darkened streets. “Then let’s make sure we are.”