by Justin Wayne
Chapter Twenty Five: Hunt and Seek
Six Feet Under stood just on the edge of the dock with half the building hanging over the edge and several support struts jutting up from the water to hold it aloft. The front of the tavern was derelict of paint and the roof along the porch had broken and fallen through until it was a V shape rather than the A it was before, blocking the top half of the door. As such a new entrance was made by busting a large hole in the wall a few feet to the right. A single large anchor was painted across the side with a red six fitted into it as nearly one shape.
Decrepit as the tavern was, it showed many signs of life. Aside from the boisterous voices that echoed from within and occasional shattering of glass, two men stood around outside the entrance with weapons at their hips, and several more sitting in chairs or on crates around the dock. A small lantern illuminated the darkness a dozen feet before the porch.
Two of the guards moved aside then as a fellow “peace-keeper” made his way through the door with a small man by the scruff of his jacket. With a vicious twist and kick the man was thrown from his feet then launched into unconsciousness as the heavy boot collided with his head. The guard laughed and spat on the small figure lying prone on the wooden planks.
“What’d he do, Grim?” one of the others asked as he ruffled through the man’s pockets. “Must’ve really pissed you off for this eh?”
The large guard shrugged and took half the few pieces found on the man. “Spilled his drink on him.”
“On who?”
Grim stared hard at the other guard and motioned with his head back to the tavern. “Him. If you don’t know who I’m talkin’ about then you’re stupider than I thought, Jerr.”
Jerr frowned for a moment then with an audible click, his teeth snapped together nervously. “You mean him?” His voice rose an octave as he said it.
“Yep. This guy here spills ale on his lap then starts laughing. So ‘course I get in there ‘fore it gets messy and knock this bloke’s jaw outta’ place. But he says it aint enough. So I just says ‘yes sir’ and took him out here.”
“So who is he?” Jerr asked quietly with a nervous glance around. “Some of the guys hear things ya know.”
“All I know, is he’s one bad man to mess with who could kill you as quickly as smile at ya. And they say he aint even human.”
Jerr’s smile cracked across his face before he had even registered it. “It’s a woman?”
Grim knocked him on the side of the head. “No you dunce! They say he’s an elf of some sort.” With a quick look behind him, he leaned forward and whispered, “My money’s on dark elf.”
Jerr’s smile flipped upside down at the mere mention of the race. Against his will a shudder ran down his spine.
“Exactly. So take care of this guy now before he comes out here to check.” Grim threatened then pointed to the unconscious man. “The usual spot is good; no one will see you out there.
“Show him our namesake,” he ordered gruffly then stepped back inside.
Jerr shrugged and called for his friend to help him. Together they dragged the man, by his feet no less to leave his face in the ground, until they were a ways away at the dockyard. No lights were present this far out, and no other business had dared setup shop on their turf. Only the ships that came in to dock were allowed to stay and even then only for the good business sailors and pirates brought their establishment. As such, they encountered no interference as they strapped bricks to the man’s ankles and slipped him off the dock with a splash.
“I love this job,” Jerr guffawed. “Let’s go, Mick.” They made their way back to the tavern front laughing and swapping bar fight tales so exaggerated they were closer to war stories. “So this bloke, the one with the metal arms mind you, charges at me through two walls and—“
Jerr disappeared from sight as he fell to the ground with a loud exhale as the wind was knocked from him. He looked back and saw a figure lying prone in the dirt near where the first had been tossed. He looked around but saw no one else around.
“Guess Grim wants another one sent six feet deep.” Mick chuckled and helped Jerr up who proceeded to kick the still figure vengefully.
“Damn fool to trip me! He’ll get what’s comin’ to ‘em eh?” Jerr sneered vilely with yellow teeth and purple gums. Each grabbing a leg, they dragged the figure back the way they had come to the darkest patch of dock then laid him out to fetch more rope and brick from the crate nearby.
“Bye bye idiot.” Jerr laughed to himself and motioned Mick over. “Let’s finish this one up quick and get back ‘fore we get in trouble.” Both grabbed a leg then when Mick paused.
“You think Grim already searched ‘em?” he asked Jerr who similarly stopped. “I mean, you are the one who searched the other guy.”
Jerr nodded and smiled. “See, Mick, that’s why I like you. Just fulla’ good ideas you are.” Crouching on either side of the figure they opened his cloak then froze as two knives passed into their throats. Gurgling and thrashing they collapsed to the dock in a panic as the figure stood and dusted himself off.
“I didn’t appreciate that kick earlier.” he whispered and strapped the bricks onto Jerr’s ankles with fading resistance and then tied Jerr to Mick. Slowly he tugged on the rope until they had slid to the edge. Both men too far gone to fight back limply sagged off the side of the dock.
“Men like you are a disease.” Then Outsider pushed them off the dock with the toe of his boot. Turning back to the tavern he made his way through the darkness as easily as if it were fully lit, eyes glowing faintly. Picking off the guards one by one either with a well placed throwing knife or by stealthing his way to them, the area surrounding the tavern was devoid of life now, giving him that much more security.
Coming up behind the old building, he sprinted at the wall and leaped forward then off of it, catching the low hanging chunk of roof that angled off it behind him. Then carried by his momentum, swung up and over, onto the roof. Scanning the area once more as he had done before, he deemed it safe enough.
Taking careful steps with his soft soled boots to ensure he was silent, he tested every movement by leaning back on one foot while stepping with the other; checking the beams to ensure they would support his weight. Every time he progressed he waited for the inevitable creak to ease from the wooden ceiling below him, and when it didn’t he hurried forward.
At last he made his way across until he was in position. Having glassed the area before nightfall, he had seen several sentries make their way to the roof by a hatch placed in the far corner that hung the furthest out to sea. Finally reaching it, he saw it was already open and illuminated.
He laid flat on his stomach and at an angle to see down it and into the room. Six Feet Under was a low class establishment he knew, and he had been to several in his line of business, but this one was appalling even to him. Gruff and vicious looking men crowded small wooden tables with foaming pints of ale sloshing about and spilling onto the filthy, detritus covered floor. Several holes were punched in the floor where the occasional drunk would stumble over to and relieve himself through, while the others would then shout lude comments at the scantily clad women who served the unruly crowd. Several times one of them was thrown to the ground only for the bartender, an immensely overweight and balding individual with a ferret-like face, to laugh and tell her to get up and earn her pay.
Around them were larger square tables where men in black sat across from a few patrons with a deck of cards laid out between them and games that ended as quickly as they started; often with fists. From his vantage point Outsider could see the spare cards flick from their sleeves and onto the table with a quick twist of the wrist, always leading to the sudden fury of predictably unpredictable drunk men.
A small woman at the far end made her way through with a tray of mugs only to be tripped and fall, shattering the glasses. Standing silently and trying to hold onto some dignity she made her way around the table and back to the bar where the barkeep l
eaned in close and whispered something. Outsider strained to hear his words but caught only the raucous clambering and shouting.
A moment later the woman made her way back with a fresh tray of drinks and sat them out quickly. Then seductively, she arched her back and leaned against the man who had tripped her. Stroking the side of his stubbly face with the back of her hand she smiled and winked her bright blue eyes.
“You seem like an intelligent man, sir. Am I right?” she cooed with an exotic accent similar to the tribal tongue of the southern islands. “And so handsome, surely you are a winner are you not, sir?”
The others grinned and cheered him on with the completely lack of subtlety only the inebriated can bestow. He cracked a wide smirk and held her close against him. “Why yes’s I most’s certainly is..am.” He slurred and swayed slightly in his seat.
The woman nodded reassuringly and tugged on his arm. “Oh I can tell sir. Please, show me the way to win and be so successful. Show me.” she breathed and he rose unsteadily. She led him over to an empty square table and sat him down.
The man wheezed a barking laugh and leaned back in his chair cockily. “Who’m I playin’ lady?”
The woman sat across from him then and laid down a deck of cards. “Me.”
The shock obvious on his face even through his stupor, he laughed even harder then and slammed down his purse with a heavy hand. “Sue its yerselfs.” He turned back at the men who were watching intently and gave a clumsy thumbs-up and a cheer followed. He turned back around and found the cards already laid out in a line before him, faces up.
“All you have to do is find the match to your card there.” she instructed, pointing to a card displaying a black mug. “It’s here,” she said and tapped a card exactly like it among the lineup. “First round.” she announced with a smile and flipped all the cards over slowly then moved them around, mixing up the cards by sliding them facedown just as slowly as before.
The man guffawed and flipped over the matching card with a bellowing cry of triumph. The woman frowned exaggeratedly and hung her head low before sliding a small pile of silver cents to match his bet. “You win, sir.” she pouted and stuck out her bottom lip.
The man grinned and grasped her hand. “One mores rounds, sugar,” and he pooled his old silver with the new and slid it forward. “All’s in it is.”
The woman nodded reluctantly and agreed. “Oh, alright sir, but only if you go easy on me.” The man laughed and waved her on to continue. With a flourish she shot the cards from one hand to the other then with a single finger flicked them from the deck and onto the table in a perfect line. Showing him where the match was then flipping them over again, she slid them around with amazing speed and finesse.
She leaned back contentedly and smirked at his dumbfounded expression. He turned back to the others who similarly were struck dumb and mouths hung agape. A mug or two fell and shattered on the floor. Hesitant and confused, he tapped a card with absolutely no conviction. She flipped it over with her thumb and gave him a quick wink, “Ooh, sorry sir, looks like luck is on my side this time. Care to go again?”
The man stared at her blankly then frowned. “You’s a cheater you’s is!” He stood suddenly and nearly toppled over but managed to catch himself on the table. He reached out for the money and missed, knocking over his drink, then tried again only to find the silver and his purse missing. Eyes wide and bloodshot in a drunken rage, he pushed the table away and rushed at the woman.
But she wasn’t there anymore; she had slipped under the table and behind him. She tapped his shoulder and when he spun around, cracked her elbow against the underside of his jaw with a loud snap as his mouth clamped shut. The man’s face went blank and the lights behind his eyes were out before he hit the ground with a loud snore.
The room was silent then and even Outsider was in a state of shock.
A moment later the sound of someone clapping broke the quiet. All eyes turned to a cloaked man in the far corner who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. He continued to clap as he strode forward to the woman then held up a long bladed dirk. Watching her face tighten and wan, he sneered and looking straight ahead into her eyes. Then without looking away, he flicked the blade to the left where it stuck in the table with a thunk.
He motioned to it with a slight incline of his head. The woman stiffened and made her way over to the table reluctantly. She looked down at it and saw the dirk had pierced a card and pinned it to the tabletop. Removing the blade with a jerk she held it up and looked at the card impaled on it. He snapped his fingers and held out his waiting hand.
She returned it and he smiled once more as he held up the card stuck on the weapon: the black mug. He snapped his fingers and held out his hand again until the silver was placed in his palm which he promptly pocketed. The dirk returned to its sheath and he took his seat at the back of the room in the darkest corner.
“Feel free to resume your evening, folks.” he laughed and took a hearty gulp of ale. Slowly the chatter resumed as the men discussed what had transpired and the man was left where he fell. The barkeep sat across from the man and handed him another mug.
“On the house Blaine. We don’t want no trouble.” Perspiration beaded the creases on his forehead which seemed enlarged due to his lack of hair, and worry lined his chubby face. “Just let the girls know if you need anything.” and he turned quickly to get away.
“Actually there is something.” The barkeep stopped midstride and turned back around fearfully. “It has come to my attention that someone is looking for me. Any idea who?” The threat within his words was hardly hidden and Blaine stared coldly at the fat man before him.
“No of course not! If I had even the tiniest inkling of information you know I would tell you immediately!” he stuttered nervously.
Blaine nodded and kicked his feet up on the table. “Of course, Chester, of course. You are loyal to me out of fear and have not the bravery to stand against me. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” Chester replied without hesitation.
“How shameful.” the bounty hunter replied and waved him on without another word or look. The barkeep did as instructed but was stopped by Blaine’s next words. “Just thought you might since all your guards are dead.”
Chester froze. He turned back and stared dumbly at the bounty hunter before him as if expecting the man to laugh and say he was only kidding. Oblivious to the condescending glare being shot at him, he continued to stare until the dark elf had had enough.
“So tell them to lock everything up already you insolent fool!” Blaine commanded and spun the dirk between his fingers menacingly.
Chester recovered as his job required. “Weapons out and doors locked! Get the boys downstairs up here!” The men scrambled about to do as they were told with Blaine watching and soon had the door latched, sword or axe in hand, and the ale safely tucked away.
One of the men made his way up the ladder and peered out the hatch, scanning the darkness, then returned inside and locked it with a chain. The others stood about in anticipation as those downstairs in an airtight part of the bar actually underwater ascended a second ladder to the ground floor.
“What’s the problem, boss?” A hulking behemoth of a man with the tusk-like incisors and gray skin to prove his half orc heritage asked Chester.
“Boys outside are dead and someone’s after Blaine. He thinks it’s the same guy so we—“
“I know it’s the same person.” Blaine interrupted. “It is an old friend of mine.”
“My apologies.” Chester appeased. “It is the same man, so we must help Blaine defeat him. Not that he needs our help,” he quickly added. “I want you and Grim to take the boys outside and search for—“
“Will you just shut up and stop giving such useless orders?” Blaine spat and leaned back further in his chair. “He’s not out there anymore.”
Chester screwed up his face in confusion. “Then..then where is he?”
“Well let’s see,” Blaine began
slowly and deliberately as if instructing a small child. “If he’s not outside then he must be..” He let the question hang a moment before Chester realized it was one.
“Inside! Then he must be inside.” he answered in a quivering timbre and dropped his eyes to the floor. Everything about him screamed defeat and the others moved away from him for fear of the renowned bounty hunter’s sudden flares of anger.
Blaine shook his head and drained his mug. “Why do you think I told you to lock everything up?”
Chester hesitantly answered as he still wasn’t sure he understood and feared punishment. “To keep him out?” he breathed barely more than a whisper.
Blaine waved the answer away. “No dear Chester, I’m afraid not.” He spun his dirk back around his hand and stuck it in the table beside him where he could reach it easily. “To keep him in.”
The men squirmed uneasily and looked about the room uncomfortably. A few shared concerned glances and the group unconsciously huddled together closer. Grim pushed a small man away from him and broke from the crowd. “So he’s hiding around here somewhere?”
“Of course not.” Blaine shot back as if insulted. “He isn’t hiding, he’s hunting. So now we must seek him out, hunter versus hunter lest you become the prey.”
Grim swallowed and flexed his arms at his sides. “So it’s nothing more than a game?”
“Isn’t everything? If you have to compete for all you do so as not to fail or lose, are you not simply trying to win?”
Grim set his jaw determinedly and hefted his axe. “Ain’t no sneak gonna’ kill me.”
“Seeing as this is a game, why not have some fun?” Blaine offered. “Break out the black ale, Chester, the heavy stuff! Might as well let the boys enjoy themselves.” Chester hurried to get the barrels of dark mead he had concocted himself illegally with entirely too much alcohol and set them up behind the bar.
Blaine smiled to himself as his fodder would soon become the perfect distraction once drunk and unruly.
As Chester heaved the barrels of black mead from the cellar and onto the counter, he noticed something peculiar then everything went white. A minute or two passed before anyone realized he hadn’t returned. Grim called for him then made his way to the bar.
“It begins.” Blaine whispered and leaned his chair back comfortably. “First the pawns…how predicta—"
An explosion rocked the building and he in his chair toppled over. Blaine rolled to his feet and jerked his dirk from the tabletop. “What the hell just happened?” he shouted over the cries of anger and pain. A bright light seared his eyes from across the room.
Flames spread from the back wall behind the bar where the potent black ale had been until half the tavern was burning. The men within them were either covered in the fire and flailing about futilely or standing in the crowd nearby. Blaine strode forward and saw it was no crowd but a ring as the drunken men faced off against the attacker.
One by one they dropped to the ground as the figure danced between their uncoordinated strikes until they wised up to the hit and run tactics and pressed him into too small a space. Blaine smiled and held back to see how things went.
Thinking quickly, Outsider leapt up and grabbed a beam in the low ceiling and swung onto it. He reached into his cloak and removed a pinch of his powder then flicked it into the flames below which roared and flared up angrily. The group of men below was blown away from the explosion and the flames grew in intensity.
He turned about just in time for the beam to collapse beneath him as Grim’s axe hewed it in half. Outsider hit the ground on his back and slowly rolled to his feet. He looked up at the last second and narrowly dodged a few wild swings. He sidestepped them before taking a single step forward too close for the attacker to strike, and caught the big man’s arm as he reared back to swing, then slid his knife between his ribs once, twice, thrice.
The heavy axe fell from Grim’s fingers behind him then he dropped like a stone to the ground and was quickly consumed by the flames. Outsider turned away from him to face the others, however the fire had spread more than anticipated and chased the majority off to the lower deck.
Only the women and those too drunk to flee were left with him. He turned from the searing heat and crouched low to avoid the billowy smoke that seared his eyes and lungs. The women did likewise and screamed in fear as the roof began to collapse at the far end of the building where the fire began. The woman from before who had hustled the man approached him.
“Are you going to get us out or not?” she yelled over the sound of splitting of wood and the crackling inferno. “We work here out of desperation not by choice!”
Outsider matched her stare then nodded. “Have you seen Blaine?”
She shook her head and ordered the others behind them. She coughed as she inhaled some of the smoke and wiped her face. “No, why are you searching for someone so dangerous?”
Outsider swept his arms out to emphasize the destroyed and burning building, “And what am I?” then threw a handful of powder into the front wall which exploded on contact with the flames and blasted away the door.
The women rushed through but she stayed behind with him. “What about you?”
“I need Blaine alive.” And he turned to the back of the room to the hidden hatch leading down the lower level. He threw down a small pinch of powder then tossed a flaming chair leg onto it. The small explosion blew open the hatch and a plume of smoke blew into his face.
Outsider rolled over to it and dropped down the shaft to the bottom floor with the others. They all instinctively backed away from him. “Where’s Blaine? If you don’t tell me I’ll blow you all apart without a second thought! He held out the powder in the palm of his gloved hand. The half orc stepped forward first.
“That is nothing more than sawdust!” he challenged and slipped two large curving blades from his back that resembled sicles and gleamed with a keen edge. “This man is no more dangerous than Chester was!”
Outsider sighed and threw a small bit of the powder in the large half-breed’s face. The fighter roared and struck out with both blades only for Outsider to block them with his knives and send sparks flying..
The half orc’s face erupted in flames and he screamed a blaring wail of agony. He beat at his head blindly and thrashed all about to extinguish the white hot pain searing through his core. Outsider ignored him and repeated the question.
“He isn’t down here! He disappeared as soon as the explosion went off!” a small man answered with eyes wide in fear. Outsider could read the honesty in his face. “I swear it’s the truth!”
“Fine.” He stepped aside from the ladder. “Everyone out.” The group eyed him and not one moved. “Now!” They all rushed for the ladder and scrambled out and into the inferno. One by one they disappeared through the hole in the wall until only the dead remained.
Scouring the hidden room below for another hidden hatch or door, Outsider found only money and illegal drugs made by goblins and tribal mercenaries. “Damn!” he cursed and kicked open a wooden crate. From the hole in the crate spilled a helmet and small pile of gloves, all with an insignia he knew he had seen before; a red raven against a black sun.
A resounding boom echoed from above and he charged up the ladder only to meet a boot to the face. He fell back down and hit the floor hard. He stared up through a blurry haze and saw Blaine watching him with such an evil smile he couldn’t help but scowl back.
“Well well, Outsider, I’m impressed. Not only did you manage to find me and slip into my hideout, but you singlehandedly destroyed it as well.” He clapped a single time then dropped his hands. “You’re definitely something more than before and I admit to underestimating you. But I promise it won’t happen again.” He turned his back to the hatch then turned his head to the side.
“Oh and by the way. Your little friend Thom has about twenty four hours to live before he’s executed.” He howled with laughter, bringing images of someone being tortured to mind and doubled over to slap
his knee. “Just thought you ought to know.”
Then Blaine gave a mighty kick to a charred support beam which snapped under the strain of holding the roof with inadequate support. A large chunk of the ceiling collapsed and with a deafening thunder-like clap that shook Outsider’s teeth, buried the exit to the bottom story.
Outsider stared up at the rubble in the darkness and cursed again.
