Battledale_PRC8/_module/uti/ah_bookfic11.uti.json

{
  "__data_type": "UTI ",
  "AddCost": {
    "type": "dword",
    "value": 0
  },
  "BaseItem": {
    "type": "int",
    "value": 74
  },
  "Charges": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 0
  },
  "Comment": {
    "type": "cexostring",
    "value": ""
  },
  "Cost": {
    "type": "dword",
    "value": 1
  },
  "Cursed": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 0
  },
  "DescIdentified": {
    "type": "cexolocstring",
    "value": {
      "0": "Rain slashed down the darkened, narrow lane, intermittently lit by flashes of lightning. Lion paused, almost holding his breath, waiting for the peal of thunder. The storm had rolled up very suddenly, almost ruining his chances of keeping up with his quarry. If he had been trying to follow the man before he regained his sight, he would have completely lost the trail soon after the rain started. As it was, the merest glimpses of his target at a turn a few blocks ahead was all that kept him on track. \n\nHe still marveled at how strange his newly gained sight was. Fearful of losing his hard won edge, he practiced daily with a blindfold. At times, he felt comforted by blotting out this new riot of color and shape that assaulted him daily. Fear and discomfort had a lot to do with both the loss and recovery of his vision, he supposed. What was it Master Chiak had told him? Sometimes the eye witnesses a scene so horrible that the mind refuses to see. Well, he had been subject to many horrible revelations, lately, and doubted there was much with which he could not now cope. \n\nHe had followed Kwai Lo Shiang to the docks, then across one bridge after another, deep into Marsember's warren of canals and marsh. He stood in the lee of a building, back pressed into the brick, studying the one into which his prey had disappeared. It was a squat, gray, three story cube with narrow, grimy windows along the ground floor. It was surrounded by water on all three sides, so ancient its island had apparently subsided into the marsh. The surrounding canals were now flush to the foundation. \n\nThe only approach to the building was a narrow, stone bridge, arching up over the water on the south side of the building. Unfortunately that way was too exposed and therefore too risky. He contemplated the canal and shrugged. He drew back into a nearby door jamb and looked around. He spotted a ground floor window in what appeared to be an abandoned building, just a short sprint up the canal-side. He waited for the next lightning strike, then took off before the following thunderclap. He skidded to a halt and crouched beneath the window just as the thunder rattled the glass in its sill. \n\nHe examined the latch and drove a stiffened finger through the soft, rotten wood of the sill. He levered the latch open and slid the window open. He slithered through the window and tumbled onto the floor. He quickly stripped down to just his pants and took out a pair of cloth strips. He bound his rain slicked pants around his calves, to keep them from dragging while he swam, then hid the rest of his clothes under a pile of loose plaster and rubble. \n\nPeaking over the window sill, he watched the warehouse, eyes trying to pick out some detail through the soot stained windows. Shrugging, he dove over the sill at the next flash of lightning. Rolling he came to his feet in a crouch and dashed across the lane, to the lip of the canal. Without hesitation, he dove into the murky, black water, trying not to make a noticeable splash. He forced himself to stillness and floated slowly to the surface. He let his eyes clear the choppy surface, then started paddling to keep still. Drifting slowly across the water, he kept scanning the windows for any sign he'd been spotted. \n\nComing to the base of the building, he touched bottom on the slimey surface of the submerged islet. Crouching to stay mostly underwater, he made his way to the base of the bridge. He stopped to examine the front door, noticing the worn and cracked wooden sign next to the entrance. The black painted had faded to a pale gray, hard to distinguish from the sun faded wood, but he recognized the shape instantly. A lotus. \n\nSwimming under the bridge, he pulled himself up on the other side, hanging from the edge of the bridge. As quickly as he could, he heaved himself up and over the edge, and lay flat on the slick cobbles. He slid up to the door and pulled himself up into a crouch next to it. Examining the lock, he pulled a pick out of his waistband. He closed his eyes and set to work. A few seconds later, he heard a satsifying click. Easing the door open, careful not to cause the old, leather hinges to creak, he slipped inside \n\nThe interior was barely brighter than the storm soaked night and his eyes quickly adjusted. There was a staircase leading up, to the right, and the entranceway continued on as a hall into the heart of the building. He crept to the stairs and scanned the first few steps. Dry. Looking down the hall, he saw a trail of small puddles. \n\nNodding, he made his way carefully down the hall, back pressed to the wall. The hall ended at an arch that opened onto a large, empty space. Around the edges of the cavernous room, partitions had been set, to create semi-private cubes. The rest of the floor contained scattered piles of cushions and small bronze pots. Smoke drifted lazily from the pots and a few people lounged here and there, sucking on tubes attached to the pots. Lion grimaced and scanned the floor, scenting the air. He caught the scent before he spotted the drying, watery trail. \n\nHe trotted swiftly across the open space to a pair of double doors at the back, counting on the stupor of the clients to keep them from noticing and raising any kind of alarm. He stopped next to the door, back to the wall, and looked around. No one had moved and he could see all of the private enclosures were open and empty. Apparently the weather was bad enough to deter all but the most desperate addicts. \n\nEasing one of the doors open, he put his eye to the crack. The room beyond appeared to be a kitchen, empty at the moment. Below the scent of mildly rancid meat and mold, he could make out the fear sweat of Kwai Lo Chiang. Apparently a perpetually nervous man, Kwai was not hard to follow, despite his paranoid efforts at throwing off pursuit. \n\nLion slipped through the doors, easing them shut. He glanced around the room, spotted a door and a stairwell. Dismissing the door, he crossed to the stairs and climbed to the first landing. A hallway, down which the scent disappeared. About a dozen doors on either side, leading all the way back to the front of the building. Offices, maybe bunks for the hired local toughs. \n\nPadding down the dim corridor, Lion closed his eyes, trying to sniff out through which door Kwai had disappeared. He stopped--here, the third on the left. He heard the low murmur of voices. Four mean, two older, near the center of the room, probably all sitting. The creak of leather from one side, sniffing near the opposite wall. Bodyguards, no more than eight, for sure. Nothing near the far wall, save the sound of the storm outside--a window. \n\nListening a little longer, Lion tried to figure out which of the four seated men was Kwai. Kwai's shrill voice was complaining to one of the other men, something about bandits destroying half the last shipment and the Dragons detaining the cargo at the dockside. The other man didn't sound pleased. Lion smiled. Good, he thought, let it go roughly for Kwai, then. \n\nKwai stood and moved away from the table, nearing the window. His whining was almost lost in the sound of the storm. The window must be open. Better and better. Lion stood, looking up and down the hall to make sure no one had snuck up while he was listening. Clear. He hauled both hands back to one side of his waist and, and balled them up. Concentrating his will, he summoned forth his chi and let loose with a mighty blast. \n\nThe door tore instantly off its rusted hinges, revealing three mean seated, seven toughs spread on either side of the table, and Kwai framed by a sheet of lightning glaring through the window, like a baleful, phosphorescent eye. Lion let loose a battle cry and sped across the room, vaulting neatly over the table. He tackled Kwai around the waist and dove, hauling him after, through the window. \n\nHe spun in empty space, fearing for a moment he had overshot the canal or was closer to the bridge than he thought. He pinned Kwai's frantically thrashing arms. Ah, there, the black froth of the canal. He twisted, plunging first into the water, pulling his victim after. He clamped a hand over Kwai's mouth, stopping him from screaming away his breath. \n\nHe held still, listening. There, thwip! A quarrel cutting into the water. Then another. Keeping them both below the surface, he stroked hard, taking them back around the side of the building. He risked a breath, thrusting Kwai up, loosening his grip enough to let him draw breath, without letting go. Kwai gasped but kept silent. Lion looked around, then spotted the building in which he had hid his things. Kicking strongly, he made to the side of the canal and heaved Kwai out, onto the hard stones of the lane. In an instant he was up and beside him, a warning hand on his shoulder. Kwai just lay on the street, in a heap, gasping long, ragged breaths. \n\nLion hauled him up to his feet and shoved him towards the open window. Casting a look over his shoulder, he breathed a quick sigh, seeing the front door of the warehouse still closed, the bridge deserted. He caught up with Kwai and boost him through the window. He had to heave the pane up further to admit the more portly man's middle, then dove after him. \n\nKwai leaned up against the wall, silent, watching Lion with fear plain in his eyes. Lion fetched his things from their hiding spot and quickly put on his short robe, tying the sash one handed, then digging into his pack. With an evil grin, he pulled out a length of cord and knelt next to Kwai. \n\n\"Your hands, give them to me,\" he uttered in Kwai's native tongue. He watched with satisfaction as Kwai's eyes widen in surprise and he obeyed. Lion deftly tied his wrists, then stood, pulling the shorter man to his feet. Kwai looked truly sorry, tunic and trouser soaked and clinging to his flabby form. Lion pushed him towards the room's door. Without a further word, he steered him out the back of the building, away from the island den full of lotus eaters. \n\nLion led his captive mutely to a dockside inn where he had secured rooms before hand. They used the back entrance, avoiding the common room and hopefully the other patrons. Lion pushed him through the door into his room, then followed, latching and locking the door behind him. \n\n\"Now, friend, you will answer some questions.\" Either Lion's deadly serious expression or their flight or both overwhelmed Kwai and he fainted. Chuckling, Lion knelt and bound his feet. \"I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer.\" \n"
    }
  },
  "Description": {
    "type": "cexolocstring",
    "value": {
      "0": ""
    }
  },
  "Identified": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 1
  },
  "LocalizedName": {
    "type": "cexolocstring",
    "value": {
      "0": "The Search For Hu Bao Zhou (Part One)"
    }
  },
  "ModelPart1": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 9
  },
  "PaletteID": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 60
  },
  "Plot": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 1
  },
  "PropertiesList": {
    "type": "list",
    "value": []
  },
  "StackSize": {
    "type": "word",
    "value": 1
  },
  "Stolen": {
    "type": "byte",
    "value": 1
  },
  "Tag": {
    "type": "cexostring",
    "value": "ah_bookfic11"
  },
  "TemplateResRef": {
    "type": "resref",
    "value": "ah_bookfic11"
  }
}