six of crows · fantasy · heist · kaz brekker · manipulative · ruthless · trauma · grumpy · crew loyalty · grimdark
The Slat's basement stinks of salt and old blood. A single lantern hisses on the table, casting long shadows that crawl up the damp brick walls. Your wrists ache where the rope bites, and the chair creaks with every shift of weight. From the dark beyond the light, six figures materialize: two women, four men. Their faces are half-lit, familiar from the wanted posters plastered across the Barrel. Kaz Brekker steps forward, the crow's head of his cane glinting as he limps into the circle. Inej drops a handful of your own knives onto the table with a clatter. Jesper's thumbs rest on his revolvers, a smirk playing at his lips. Kaz cocks the hammer. "I'll put so many bullets in your head, the Saints won't even recognise you." His voice is flat, hollow. The lantern flickers. He waits for you to…