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Hell to Pay (Ascend Online Book 2)

Page 6

by Luke Chmilenko


  “Time that I don’t have,” I said with a sigh, looking up towards the partly covered skylight. “Not if I want to make it to Cayden’s meeting in time.”

  “Are you sure that’s even a good idea?” Molly asked, giving me an annoyed look. “You set Cayden’s place on fire; if they had eyes on the place, you could be walking right into a trap.”

  “I didn’t feel I had any other choice…” I replied with a fatalistic shrug. “If word got out about Fairfax’s death before we can get ahead of it…”

  “Fair enough,” Molly said, her expression shifting slowly and nodding at me in understanding. “What’s your plan for the meeting?”

  “Hadn’t thought too much about it,” I admitted. “I was going to hide out there and pretend to be Cayden’s representative.”

  “And what are you going to do when they ask to see the sigil?” Molly asked me pointedly. “Lift up your shirt?”

  “My first thought was to hit them, actually,” I answered hesitantly, realizing that maybe I hadn’t quite thought everything through. “You have something else in mind?”

  “Well, hitting and maybe some stabbing is definitely high on my list…” Molly admitted with a devilish smile. “But we can get around to that later…what we need the most is information, and to find out exactly what happened to both you and Fairfax, before things get violent.”

  “I’m open to suggestions.” I held my hands open to show that I didn’t have any other ideas. “We don’t have that much time, though.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Molly said while moving to grab her hanging leather armor. “There’s a butcher shop not far from here; we can grab everything we need there.”

  “A butcher shop?” I echoed, completely confused. “What could we possibly need at a butcher shop?”

  Molly grinned as she slipped her leather tunic over her head. “You’ll see.”

  Chapter 6

  “Almost done,” Molly whispered to me as a faintly wet, squishing sound filled the air. “Just adding in the last few details and waiting for the ink to dry.”

  “You think this will really make a difference?” I asked, while looking over Molly’s shoulder, my elven eyes easily allowing me to see through the darkness.

  “Should buy you a few seconds, if nothing else,” the priestess replied while recasting an enchantment to allow her to see in the dark. “Now shush while I finish this, I need to concentrate.”

  Leaving Molly to her work, I carefully shifted away, peering over the edge of the balcony that we had taken cover on, and carefully scanned the area for threats, turning my nose up at the smell that wafted up from below. After stopping at the butcher shop to pick up supplies for Molly’s idea, we had made our way into the Harbor District and towards Stone Sailor’s Pier.

  Set deep in what once used to be the most productive district of the city, it was obvious that both the pier and the rest of the harbor had seen better days. Mounds of garbage and refuse littered the streets, piling high into alleyways to the point where they had become impassable, lest one wish to disrupt hordes of rats and other vermin. Buried in the filth were also countless abandoned and dilapidated buildings, their owners long having left with the changing tides of fortune.

  Hard to believe that this place once supplied almost all of Eberia’s food. I looked out at the waterline, seeing the jutting shapes of sunken boats sticking free of the water.

  During The War, a conflict during which countless Orc Tribes had besieged Eberia for nearly four decades, the harbor and the bounty it provided was the only thing that had kept the city from starving. But as the war had worn on, constant overfishing had eventually taken its toll, leaving the surrounding ocean barren of life. With the fishing devastated and no other commercial reasons for keeping the harbor open, the Noble Houses had allowed it to flounder and decay as they turned their energy and coffers elsewhere.

  Today, the Harbor District was only used by those too desperate, or too poor, to go anywhere else. A place that the city guard paid little attention to, save for the rare patrol pretending otherwise. Instead, the gangs and other criminals had moved in, using the harbor as a transitory place to store goods, people, or conduct meetings with little chance of interference from an outside party.

  “That should be good enough,” Molly whispered a few minutes later, carefully folding up her project and putting it into a leather bag. She quietly moved over towards me and handed the bag over before leaning into my shoulder, staring out towards the pier.

  “That statue was once a beacon used by the sailors and fishermen to know that they had come home,” Molly breathed, pointing out to a large stone statue of a man with open arms facing out towards the ocean. “It was supposed to be the first thing they’d see, reminding them of how important they were to the city.”

  “Until the food stopped coming,” I replied sadly, seeing that the once proud statue now stood dirty and stained.

  “Yeah,” Molly agreed, shifting her head to look out towards the ocean. We stood together silently for a while, biding our time until we had to get into position for the meeting, watching for any sign of movement below.

  Both experience and Fairfax’s tutelage had taught us better than to continue talking despite the concealment of the night. Excessive noise or movement while staking out a place was a good way to end up being spotted.

  And being spotted was a good way to end up with a dagger between your ribs.

  Seeing nothing of concern cross our vision during our vigil, I eventually grabbed a thick cloak I had brought with me and threw it over my shoulders as I descended back down towards street level, while Molly maintained her watch from above. Once I safely made it into position, she would obscure herself with her class ability and climb straight down from the balcony, then take up position somewhere nearby.

  Pulling up the mask built into my armor’s hood as I walked, I ensured that my face was covered and made my way out onto the pier. Combined with the cloak’s presence, I hoped that it would provide me with enough anonymity to keep the mystery woman from recognizing me.

  At least long enough for me to get what I needed out of her.

  It smells even worse out here, I grimaced under the mask as the stench of the fetid water wafted up towards me. Long before the garbage and refuse had begun to litter the streets, much of it had been tossed directly into the water, coating the sea with a thin layer of sludge that never seemed to disappear.

  Walking the length of the pier, I made my way directly out to the statue, carefully circling it and checking for anyone lying in wait. Satisfied that I was alone, I unsheathed my sword and lay it against one of the statue’s legs, wanting it to be in easy reach in case, or when, the meeting turned violent. Ensuring I was fully prepared, I loaded my crossbow and double checked that all of my throwing daggers were within easy reach.

  Only when I was completely satisfied by my preparations did I lean against one of the statue’s legs, looking back towards the city and settling in to wait.

  As my eyes scanned through the night, waiting for the mysterious woman to appear, I mentally replayed the day’s events, trying to make sense of it all. In the span of a single night, the entire social order that governed Eberia’s Underworld now threatened to come flying apart. If I was lucky, I might have a chance to put an end to whatever was happening and keep things under control.

  Or I might only succeed in making it worse.

  I banished that train of thought as I noticed movement in the distance. A dark figure walked across the distant harbor, followed by several others close behind. They all paused for a moment at the foot of the pier and looked around, before beginning to walk towards me.

  Shit, she brought others, I mentally cursed at myself, having hoped that she would come alone. However, the moment that they crossed the edge of the pier, I felt Molly begin to move behind them as my Party Sense kept me informed of her direction. But it’s not like I’m alone right now either.

  Pretending like nothing was wrong
, I waited patiently for the group to make their way down the pier, carefully watching them as they approached. Playing my role to the fullest, I lifted my crossbow and casually pointed it in the group’s direction.

  Despite being dressed in heavy leathers with a thick cloak draped over the right side of her body, there was little doubt that the figure in the lead was the mysterious woman that Cayden had mentioned to me. As the distance between us shrank, I felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over me while looking at the woman, even though a hooded mask concealed her face.

  I did technically see her before, I told myself, mentally shaking off the feeling of déjà vu as the woman stopped a short distance before me and her followers fanned out beside her. The game’s just blocking my memory of it all.

  Shifting my glance to the woman’s followers, I was surprised to see that they were all Level 4 [Harbor Urchins]. The lowest of the low, Harbor Urchins lived among the dregs of society, having fallen so far that the only refuge they could find was squatting in ruined or burnt-out hovels. They often lived short and brutal lives, fighting amongst themselves for scraps of food, or dying early from one of the myriad of filth-borne diseases easily picked up when living in the harbor district.

  For the woman to have recruited four Urchins to serve her told me that she either didn’t have any other contacts to fall back on or was reluctant to use them for some reason. But at the same time, the presence of the Urchins—and the fact they hadn’t torn one another apart so that they didn’t have to share whatever she was paying them with—told me that she was more than capable of keeping them in line.

  “You’re not Cayden,” the woman stated with a harsh voice as her followers spread out to either side of her.

  “Cayden is dead,” I replied in a raspy voice, Molly having told me that I should try to mask my normal pitch. “I’m in charge now.”

  The woman was silent for a moment as she digested the news. “I wasn’t aware Cayden had any Adventurers working for him.”

  “He didn’t,” I grunted. “It was a hostile takeover.”

  “I don’t like this.” The cloaked woman took a step backwards. “I don’t know you.”

  “Imagine how that feels,” I replied sarcastically as I lifted up the leather bag and shook it, causing a wet, squishy sound to fill the air. “But we don’t need names to conduct business.”

  “I already paid for that.” The woman’s voice took on a dangerous tone, her posture going very still. “Hand it over.”

  “You paid Cayden for it,” I countered, hoping that the woman wasn’t prone to rash decisions. “I’m going to need more, especially after who I found in the basement.”

  “You realize I could kill you right now?” the woman breathed, anger seeping into her voice.

  “And what does that exactly mean to us players?” I asked, spreading my hands out wide and offering her a clear shot of my chest. “As long as I hang on to this little sack when I die, it’ll vanish right along with my body and you’ll never see it again.”

  “What do you want?” the woman asked with resignation after a long moment of silence.

  “I want to know why the hell there was a Thief Lord in my basement,” I demanded, trying to channel the proper tone of an angry gang leader. “And I want to know if I should be stripping every asset I have and heading out to Coldscar to escape the literal shitstorm that is going to break out the minute the rest of the guilds realize what’s happened.”

  “That’s none of your business,” the woman hissed, taking a step forward.

  “It became my business the moment I killed Cayden,” I retorted, standing my ground, glancing at the urchins. “Fancy how that works in the criminal world.”

  “All that you need to know is that he got in the way,” the woman ground out. “Really no different than what you are doing right now.”

  “I’m not the one making this difficult,” I grunted while shaking the leather bag. “You should be happy I held up Cayden’s end of the deal as it was. I half considered just tossing this into the fire and pulling a fade.”

  “You really want an answer that bad?!” the woman barked, her voice echoing out over the water. “Here’s your answer: grab everything of value that you have, tonight, and just fucking run. Don’t stop running until you at least hit Aldford.”

  “Where the fuck is Aldford?” I replied, too surprised to say anything else.

  “Just far enough away that it might escape what’s coming.” The woman sliced a hand through the air and took another step forward. “Now…Give. Me. The. Bag.”

  I let out a low whistle as I motioned with my crossbow for the woman to stop. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Before the woman could reply, I tossed the bag towards her in a low arc. “But you told me what I needed to know, and the sooner I can get this over with, the better.”

  Stooping to catch the flying bag with her left hand, the woman set it down on the ground and began untying the knot.

  She only has one hand? My eyebrows rose as the woman continued to work with only her left hand, eventually opening the bag and pulling out a pink sheet of bloody flesh. I saw her shift the skin in her hands, attempting to get a better look at the sigil Molly had drawn onto it.

  “Wait,” the woman demanded, dropping the bloody piece of flesh on top of the bag and reaching for something I couldn’t see. “I need to verify this.”

  “Sure.” I tried to sound as casual as I could, wondering just how she was going to manage that. I slowly tightened my grip on my crossbow, keeping it angled towards the mysterious woman.

  The woman pulled out a strange-looking crystal that I couldn’t quite make out in the dark and waved it over the skin. At first nothing happened that I could detect, but gradually the crystal began to glow with a pale purple light, slowly growing in brightness for each second that passed.

  Then suddenly, the sigil on my chest flared with pain, causing me to gasp in surprise.

  “What?” the woman grunted with surprise, her eyes looking up at me. “Cain?”

  “In the flesh,” I replied, throwing the cloak off of me with my free hand. “Nice to meet you again.”

  “I should have known you would continue to interfere,” the woman barked in sudden anger.

  Continue to interfere? I couldn’t help but note her choice of words. What did I do to interfere in the first place?

  “What did you expect me to do?” I shot back, silently wondering who this woman was. There was something familiar about her voice that I couldn’t place. “Lie there in the torture chamber and let them carve a pound of flesh from me?”

  “You stole the sigil from me,” the woman growled, ignoring my question. “If I can’t have it, I will make sure that no one else will!”

  “I would like to see you try. It didn’t work out that well for the Undertakers,” I taunted the woman, shifting my glance over to the now nervous-looking Harbor Urchins flanking her. “And I don’t know how much help your minions are going to be, either; they look a little terrified.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about them,” she replied before barking an unknown word of power in the air. “I only need their bodies for what comes next!”

  With a bloodcurdling shriek of pain, all four Harbor Urchins clutched at their chests and fell to their knees as the word of power caused something hanging from their necks to burn bright red. The smell of burning flesh and brimstone filled the air as magic flared beneath their skin. Twisting and contorting wildly, the Urchins burst into flames, forcing me to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness.

  Within seconds the flames died as quickly as they had begun, plunging the night back into darkness, leaving me blinking the afterimages out of my vision. Glancing back towards the woman and the Urchins, I was shocked to see four monstrous creatures slowly picking themselves up off the ground.

  “What the hell?!” I gasped, watching a quartet of tags appear in my vision, identifying the transformed Urchins as now being a [Hellborn Brute] – Devil – Level 12.
r />   Nearly six feet tall, each of the newly transformed Hellborn Brutes rose unsteadily on cloven goat feet as if they were not yet used to how their bodies moved. Massive muscles rippled as the creatures looked around nervously, their barbed tails whipping through the air. Flexing a set of razor-sharp claws, the devils all brushed off the remnants of the clothes their moral forms once wore, sending ash flying into the wind.

  “This time I’m going to cut the sigil from you myself” the woman growled, conjuring a bright purple orb in her hand that forced me to squint my eyes as she barked out an order to her newly spawned devils.

  “Capture him!”

  Chapter 7

  With a shout, the woman threw the bright purple orb of energy from pointblank range, giving me next to no time to dodge it. Blinding my vision as it flew, I barely managed to shift just far enough so that the overcharged Spirit Bolt smashed into the left side of my chest and shoulder. The impact knocked me backwards into the statue’s leg as a freezing cold shot through my body, causing my heart to skip a beat. An alert flashed in the corner of my vision, warning me that the attack had taken nearly a fifth of my health away.

  [Unknown Human] hits you with [Spirit Bolt II] for 133 points of damage!

  Wincing from the blow, I shifted my aim to the spot where I had last seen the woman standing and pulled my crossbow’s trigger, feeling the device kick in my hand as the bolt sped out into the night.

  Almost instantly, I was rewarded with a scream of pain and the sound of tearing cloth.

  Pushing myself off of the statue, I dropped the spent crossbow to the ground and grabbed for my sword, finding it exactly where I had left it. I had just enough time to get my weapon into a guard position before I was forced to defend myself from a set of razor-sharp claws as an overeager Hellborn Brute pushed ahead of its mates to attack, momentarily blocking them from reaching me.

  Dodging to the side, I barely avoided the creature’s claws as they carved deep gouges into the back of the statue’s leg, stone shards spraying into the air. I slashed out at the devil as it spun to chase me, drawing a line of blood across its arm and chest. Black ichor burst from the wound and immediately began bubbling as it came in contact with the air.

 

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