A jackal's grin spread over Amal's face, and he crossed his arms and legs in the chair as he thought of how they might implicate her former master. The bandit took too much enjoyment in ruining people's days for profit, but he wasn't about to call himself out on it. It was simply too much fun. 

[hr] 

Hef screamed as loud as he could, but it was far too muffled to be heard for any distance from the old cloth Amal had stuffed him with like a rotisserie pig. The leader, who was eponymously named Ringo, was out cold from Amal's initial entrance. Leaping off a wharf warehouse whilst swinging on a rope gave Amal quite a bit of momentem. He had only needed the two to be distracted for a moment, and Emmaline sauntering across the docks in her lowcut blouse gave Amal thrice the time he needed to get in position and execute the maneuver. From there Amal simply danced around Hef until he had decked him in the chin, and now the fellow had regained his sensibilities just in time to be tied up and helpless. 

Amal saw a small flash in the distance past the wharf, beside a small structure straddling the docks; a sign Emmaline had gotten a hold of the cart they were to steal. As long as they were at the appointed place at the appointed time, nothing should go awry. That was the hope at least. Amal was very apt at handling things on the fly, but usually that led to people openly dying or at least being severely pissed off, and they wanted to leave as small of a trail as possible. All that was left now was to hide Ringo and Hef so they could be on their way.  

"Stop struggling." Amal breathed, absentmindedly speaking in Arabyan as he tightened the binds to Hef's hands. The northerner smelled like alcohol and rotting bread, not uncommon smells to Amal but there was something extra putrid that was strange to his southern-born palate. He still found a few of the northern dishes particularly strange, after all. The cutthroat took out his knife and showed it to Hef, who froze. "I will not stab you if you hold still, understand?" 

The words spoken in reikspeil calmed the robber, which allowed Amal to blindfold him with the last cloth. Sheathing the knife, Amal used his wiry strength and powerful arms to lift the man up like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder. After taking about a dozen paces to the north, he stepped onto the docks, Hef likely believing Amal was going to stuff him in the brig of a ship. Unfortunately for Hef, Amal halted at the edge of the dock to unceremoniously shrug the man off and into the black depths of the Reik. Save for some noncommittal splashing from the horrified man, he sank into the water like a rock. 

After Amal dealt with Ringo in a similar fashion, he donned his cloak again and kept the shadows near the warehouses until he poked into the small outcropping where Emmaline sat on the coach, waiting for his appearance.