I stalked my way back to the Grey warehouse, stoking the rage in my heart. Kill me would they? They are going to learn why you don’t mess with an inquisitor. Heat built within my chest and my jaw clenched in frustration. I couldn't do anything about the situation Axeton studios put me in. I couldn’t do anything to help the other testers. And apparently I couldn't even have a simple information gathering mission without getting killed. This job was supposed to have been a lifeline, something good for once in my life. My frustration and helplessness amplified the anger I felt. At least now I had a target.

My second trip to the warehouse took half the time. I was moving faster, and this time I knew exactly where I was going. I only slowed when I was a few streets away. My anger, while still there, had grown cold and focused. I needed to check for lookouts. There was no way I was letting the gang know what was coming for them.

I moved slowly, carefully scanning the streets, alleyways and rooftops. I didn't find a lookout until just before getting to the actual warehouse. He was sitting on a roof across from the warehouse main entrance, not even hidden from view. Either the Grey’s had other, better hidden, lookouts and this was just a decoy, or they were extremely overconfident. I was willing to bet on the latter. And if they did have well hidden lookouts, there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

Doubling back, I got to the opposite side of the building from the lookout. Climbing the drainpipe was not easy, but with my strength and dexterity it was possible. Luckily, the metal pipe was secured to the brick wall with thick pins, so I did not have to worry about separating from the building. I made it to the roof, even with my weapons and armor weighing me down.

The top of the roof was steep and had a myriad of jutting windows, but the top had a flat section. I had to carefully navigate around the windows, using the decorative molding for handholds. By the time I made it to the top I was panting lightly, struggling to stay silent. I had worried the sentry would have heard my climb, but my fears were unfounded.

The man had smuggled a bottle of wine up to the roof. Something to help pass the time and keep the chill of sitting in one place at bay. Watching the warehouse had to be a boring post after all. He was awake, but staring at the road below lost in thought.

I considered killing the man, but then thought better of it. I might as well use the opportunity given to me. I waited for my breathing to steady, then crept carefully to the man. From my position I could see a crossbow propped against the decorative fence that ringed this section of the roof. It was neither cocked nor loaded, so I was not particularly worried about it. The man’s only other weapon was a dagger, sheathed at his right hip.

Keeping my own weapons sheathed, I quickly closed the last few feet between us. He heard me, but was far too slow to react in his inebriated state. I grabbed his dagger from his belt with my right hand and the back of the man’s dirty coat with my left. He gave a startled yelp as I dragged him backwards, out of sight from the warehouse.

I pressed the man’s own knife to his cheek. “Stay quiet if you want to keep your tongue, we’ll talk in a second.”

I pulled the man back over to the side of the roof I had climbed up moments earlier. Thinking about my ‘Persuasion by Ethos’ skill, I pushed the man to the railing, giving him a good look at the street three stories below.

“Now, if you want to stay at your current elevation, you are going to answer a few of my questions. Understand?” I asked.

“If I yell, twenty guys will come running. They’ll kill you,” He answered in a shaky voice.

“Maybe. Maybe they could get to me before I could get away. That would hardly help you though,” I said with a grin. I gave the man a shove towards the edge before pulling him back. The decorative fence was only a foot tall and would hardly save him. I continued my speech. “I bet the fall wouldn’t kill you outright. As long as you don’t hit your head, you might just break a few bones. You might survive long enough to get medical attention. That is, if anyone bothers to take you,” I said. “What do you think? Would they spend the money to patch you up? They didn't seem very respectful of human life.”

The man was pale, completely sober now. He swallowed. “What ya want?”

I smiled. Position of Power indeed. “How many guys are actually in the warehouse?”

“Eleven, if Rich is back.”

“Where did Rich go?” I asked, I wanted to get some payback for that backstab.

“He went to get a slab of meat for his eye. Somebody hit ‘im in the face earlier,” the man replied despondently.

“What about the other guy, the one that was cut?” I asked.

“How do you— nah, I don’t want to know. Bled to death. Nobody noticed how badly he was hurt until it was too late.”

No wonder my threat had worked so well.

“How many entrances are there? I continued my interrogation.

“There’s the front and back doors. The loading dock is rusted shut... Oh, and there’s the sewer entrance.”

Of course there is a sewer entrance. What kind of gang hideout would it be without sewer access? “Where is the sewer entrance?”

“Towards the back, by the poker table.”

“Where will everyone be?” I asked.

“Someone will be at the front door keeping watch, John will be in the kitchen, Boss Grey and Brute will be in the office. The rest will be playing cards while the new guys sort and pack the goods.”

“What goods?”

“Opium mostly.” He said with a shrug.

“And what kind of equipment do they have?”

“Most of the guys will have clubs or daggers. John’s got an old sword. Boss has some fancy curved sword, and Brute’s got a hammer.”

“Any magic or special skills?”

“Maybe the boss or Brute, never seen em fight.”

I nodded and looked at the man critically. What the hell do I do with him now? As much as I am pissed at these guys, he did answer my questions. As if reading my thoughts, the scruffy man spoke up again.

“You can just let me go, uh, your lordship. I won’t cause no problems. I’ll pike off right quick. Boss ain’t going to forgive me for failing again. I don’t plan on sticking around.”

I nodded and pulled the man away from the roof edge. “You can go after I have gotten off the roof. For now, take off your belt.”

“What?” he asked with a mixture of bafflement and fear.

“I am keeping your knife, give me the sheath.”

“Oh,” he said, clearly relieved. He hurriedly undid his belt and took off the sheath. He handed it to me and gestured to a rolled up rope ladder on the side of the roof.

“After you sir.”

I accepted the leather sheath and looked at the ladder with trepidation. Thankfully, it dropped into an alley on the side of the building, out of sight of the warehouse. There was no way I was climbing down that with the lookout still up here. I might have taken his knife, but he still might find a way to cut the rope.

I walked over to the crossbow, careful to stay out of sight, and picked up the weapon.

“On second thought,” I said, loading a bolt from the bag next to the lookout chair. “Why don’t you go first.”

The man paled as I leveled the crossbow at his chest. “Just know that I will be watching you the whole time,” I continued. “If it looks like you are going the wrong way, I’ll just have to put a bolt in your back.”

With my terrible perception score, I doubt I would be able to hit him, but he didn’t know that.

“No fear of that yer lordship,” he said, scrambling over to the ladder.

I watched him climb down and run off in the opposite direction from the warehouse. The lookout dealt with, I unloaded the crossbow and gathered up the bag of bolts. I might not be able to use them, but loot was loot. Worst case, I should be able to sell them somewhere.

I carefully climbed down the ladder, and stowed the crossbow and bolts in a dark corner where I could retrieve them later. Now, to plan my attack.