Chapter Text
If there's one thing Daud was, it was a natural born leader, and when their line of work involved assassination he couldn't afford the luxury of being taken by surprise. To survive this exceedingly dangerous life style you must be prepared for absolutely anything, lest you or one of those working under you loses his life or loyalty. That's happened enough during their stay in Dunwall. After years of only accepting the best to work under him, hammering them down until each man became even greater than they could have ever hoped, learning how to work together and provide what was needed of them. Their growth together had pulled them close, gave them undying loyalty not only to Daud but to each other. It was a tragic time for everyone when they lose a man.
The Whalers were a close knit group which Daud was proud to say were his. He knew each man by his gait, by they way they held themselves. Their reasons for following him were no secret, nor were their hopes and fears. He knows who works best together, and even could even tell you how much one of his men could drink before passing out.
Though to Daud's dismay they still managed to surprise him, such as when a handful of his Whalers thought it was a good idea to commandeer the Overseers' hounds for their own use. Though these were not the kind of surprises that leave people in a bloody heap behind inconspicuous bushes.
Well, this one just might.
Out of all the things his Whalers could possibly do, this was the farthest from what he believe plausible. He meant that in many respect. Why would they even want to do this, or better yet how were they able to pull it off? This was also one of the least desired encounters, all things considered. Hey, a new bundle of hound puppies would be preferable to this, and he was not fond of those things.
Sitting atop one of the old couches, adorn in expertly tied rope was... well...
Corvo Attano, who had certainly mastered the art of murderous glaring.
---Over a year prior---
That damned Lord Protector, the guy whose charge he had murdered in cold-blood for nothing more than coin, allowed to him to survive. Mister head honcho of the Whalers had, albeit unintentionally, tarnished the man's name and cursed him along with his city into a torturous time of betrayal and suffering. Daud could be traced back to the cause of almost everything wrong in Corvo Attano's life. It was at the point were the Lord Protector had the right to some good old fashioned retribution in the form of a rusty blade shoved into Daud's eye.
Yet after all this, here he is, still amongst the living. If the missing key to the only route out of the flooded district was any indication, Corvo had the full opportunity to exact his revenge. He simply choose not to.
It was dusk when he first noticed the empty space in his pocket.
Daud stood over the map that held the plans to his greatest failure, his arms were crossed, mouth set in a thin line.
It had been far too long.
He had finally started to feel impatient.
It was extremely childish, he was an assassin for fucks sake, patience was a requirement for this job. It was also a trait he definitely did not lack. Usually.
Now he felt much too restless and just wanted to do something to fill up the time until Corvo finally managed to find him, even if that meant searching the Lord Protector out personally. It had been much too long since Daud had a chance to fight anyone he could consider his equal.
There had been no reports of their Lord Protector and the sun was already set. No one reported spotting even the blue of his long coat.
If it was true Corvo was the assassin who allegedly nullified Campbell's position of High Overseer, stalked the halls of a Boyle party and brought down the Lord Regent without a single person being aware of his presence, he should be much better than this. Much quicker.
Although, his experience was with the brutes of the City Watch up until now, it would be quite the change having to deal with the skills of Daud's Whalers. They were no stranger to the game of stealth, and the 'ghost of Dunwall' had less of an advantage as he wasn't the only one powered by the Void.
Perhaps he should send someone to check on the man? Though, he could always be waiting for the cover of nightfall, or looking for an alternative route.
Daud huffed.
No one without a boat was getting in or out without the sewer key, and the only known copy was hidden within Daud's pocket. Corvo had no way of getting out without confronting him first.
He was counting on it for the glorious battle to come.
One on one, no Whalers. They'll see who wears the Outsider's mark better, winner keeps their life and key.
Unfortunately none of this would work without that key. He knew as soon as he felt neither the key nor the bone charm (of course he'd take the bone charm, the little prick) within his pocket that his plans had burned up in the Void.
His hands balled into fists and, if it wasn't for the rubber gloves, Daud knew for certain his fingernails would be drawing blood from the palm of his hand.
"Sir?" Marcel watched from his position against the empty door frame as Daud's actions became increasingly rigid. It wasn't noticeable if you haven't met the guy before, but the Whaler was a people person, quite skilled at reading body language. Their leader had been an enigma in his first days of service, but he had practiced, he had watched. He could tell.
Right now something was not right with their mighty boss.
Daud paced about the makeshift office, scanning the room with narrowed eyes, carefully contained worry and tense arms, as if readying for an oncoming fight. There was that barely visible twitch in his left shoulder that their superior got when things didn't go as planned, and oh yeah, Daud also ignored him.
"Hey, Daud? Sir?" Even with the muffle of their vapor masks head honcho over there never seems to miss a word they say. This time however the lackey's words just passes him by. Too bad he still had to wear his mask, or maybe Marcel could try and give him the 'puppy eyes and pout' combo, that would surely get his attention. Okay probably not, but a guy can still put faith in the power of dramatic facial expressions if he wanted.
But he was worried at Daud's change of posture. It was a complete flip from just a few minuets ago, and Daud is usually the level headed one. This was never a good sign.
The Whaler took a cautious step towards the pacing man. Then another.
He needed to know what going on, make sure none of them were in danger. Also that Daud wouldn't have a heart attack, that's important too. Perhaps if he just-
Nope, sneaking up on Daud while he was having a minor panic attack was definitely not a good idea. Marcel could tell by the fist that made a high speed collision with his face.
The fall to the ground wasn't very fun either.
He couldn't even stop the cry of pain as he landed right into an uprooted floor board- Outsider curse this fucking floor and all the tiny pointy rocks that lay upon it.
DAMN if that wasn't a good reminder of why Daud was their leader.
Or... was it 'Dauds' now? More than one? Marcel sure couldn't tell for certain by the stars in his vision, but three Dauds were rushing to his side looking somewhere between apologetic and distracted...
Wait, scratch that there were actually four Dauds kneel beside him. Two now? Or was it three?
No, that's definitely four Dauds.
Fuck he could not concentrate.
Oh and look, there's more Whalers too!
Daud was hastily pulling off the man's vapor mask to check the extent of the damage he had done. The good thing was by busying himself with ensuring he hadn't broken his own underlings face, he seemed to have completely forgotten whatever was troubling him.
Or... maybe that was a bad thing...?
A few other Whalers were peeking in through the empty door frame and grand glass doors at the front of the room. One even appeared from up on Dauds private loft. They were all probably attracted by the sound of violence.
Luckily there was a more medically inclined Whaler amongst them. Daud passed Marcel off to William, allowing a proper check to make sure he isn't concussed from the fall.
Shit, he was back to being all tense again. Though he also adopted a bit of a guilty look with that tenseness. How sweet he really does care if his lackeys get hurt. The rest of the Whalers that had gather were still, all looking at their leader expectantly.
Daud was absolutely sure the key was in this room unless someone, Corvo Attano, had changed that without his knowledge. Since key was nowhere to be found in the artificially lit office, there was only one conclusion.
He stepped in front of his desk, planting his hands on the smooth surface and let out a sharp exhale.
"Corvo has stolen the sewer key."
The was a small chorus of muffled confusion and surprise. Surely Daud was joking... or were the rumors and tales that shrouded the man true? Had he beat them at their own game?
"So... then was he the one who did that," One of his assassin's asked, by the broad shoulders and militaristic way he held himself it was Stephano.
Daud looked over his shoulder to see him gesturing to Marcel who was still being checked over by William, only to turn around and clear his throat. His face took on bit of colour, embarrassed over the unprofessional reaction he had. Honestly though, his Whalers should know better than to try and sneak up on him.
"It was not." The group shared looks between themselves.
Their leader let out another small sigh and rubbed a gloved hand over his jaw. He had been expecting, hoping even, for Corvo to escape and come seeking him, ready to exact revenge. Their battle would have been glorious and just. Two of the best pitted against each other, one eventually falling.
Frankly, Daud was sure he'd be the one to receive the knife in the throat. There was no better end to his life as a hired sword than to die by the hand of someone he respects, someone who he could call his equal.
Someone whose life he unwittingly and regretfully destroyed, someone who deserved to end Daud's.
The expectant stares of his Whalers were starting to weigh on their leader.
Daud wasn't an immature young Serkonan anymore, he knew Crovo wasn't challenging him. He had the full chance to take his life or initiate combat and avenge his beloved Jessamine, yet he did not take it. Corvo had let him live by choice.
He doesn't know how long this mercy will last, but for the time they were being given a chance to escape. They had to take it.
His men could very well be in danger if Corvo changed his mind, and that is one thing he refused to leave to chance.
Thank the Outsider he had the foresight to plan an emergency escape route, all the necessary equipment already stored away on a boat hidden solely for means of a get away. All his Whalers were briefed on it; where the tunnel system to the boat is hidden, what circumstances you flee to it by, the works.
"Jacob, Stephano, Isaias," Daud barked, turning sharply on his heel to face them, wits gathered once more. All the his Whalers stood to attention, even William who was supporting Marcel up by an arm around his back. "we will be leaving by the whaling boat. Spread the word. Everyone is to get what they need and leave no trace, move in intervals of at least 15 minutes." It was standard procedure to thin out into small groups when traveling all together in a urban areas, even one so dimly populated as the Flooded District.
The three nodded before disappearing with the distorted sound of heavy fabric that came with transversals.
"And to the rest of you- did no one see anything out of the ordinary while on watch." It had was dark and a few of the men were coming in from their rounds of the areas away from the Camber of Commerce. Some of the men who were attracted by the commotion of Marcel getting punched to the ground has definitely been in the outer reaches recently.
But none of them could say they noticed anything.
"I was... knocked out." Tadeo's mask did nothing the hide the shame in his voice, his wilted posture making his seem even smaller than he already was. "I thought it was some kind of prank... I was patrolling a roofs one minute, and the next Jeremiah is waking me up."
"Yeah you had me worried there Tadeo," Jeremiah nudged the shorter assassin with his elbow. "hadn't come to switch shifts. So naturally I went out looking for him and what do I find? He's out cold on a mattress!"
"Are you sure he wasn't all tuckered out? Y'know, just catching some z's?" Marcel interjected in a gently mocking tone, which was a good sign that the punch hadn't effected him too much.
"Naps have never left me feeling like I was choked." Tadeo mumbled, but paused in thought. "Quite courteous of Mister Attano though, to leave me on a soft mattress instead of the roof... people slip off those you know." Always looking on the bright side, that one.
The handful standing around Daud's office seemed to have finally come to realization of what happened. They lost Corvo, escaping virtually unseen and unheard. Perhaps they had been prideful in thinking it was easy to contain the Lord Protector.
"So the only proof that we have of him being here is a previously unconscious man and a lost key?" His tone made them all stiffen. He didn't exactly sound angry but something was still off. The Whalers gathered around the filing cabinets and desks kept silent.
William spoke up though, still holding onto Marcel. "That is correct, sir. If any of us spotted something we would have either engaged or came straight to you."
They all nodded in careful agreement.
So it's true, Corvo had come and gone as a ghost of the Flooded District, completely unnoticed by each and every assassin there. No matter that they knew the area better, or the fact they knew about his tricks. He could be miles away by now.
Daud let out yet another harsh sigh, he seemed to be doing that a lot, and turned around.
His mind was still flooded with questions, all revolving around the fellow Serkonan who has undoubtedly escaped without so much as a fight. It was infuriating. "Go get your stuff," He announced. "clear everything, nothing is to indicate our being here. Make for the escape route as soon as possible. Tobias, help me clear this room."
No questions were asked, and for that Daud was thankful.