“You must have fought Belior, right? You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. He’s been with Lord Tarrick from the start, so it’s no surprise he was willing to fight to the death.” Jiren eyed Old Man’s sword warily and pressed on when the swordsman motioned for him to continue. “I’m only loyal because the pay is good and because Lord Tarrick is the biggest, scariest guy around. Based on the fact that you’re here – not to mention the explosions I can hear and feel all the way down here – I think it’s safe to say that’s no longer true. If you’re after him, I doubt he’ll even be in a position to pay me later on. Don’t get me wrong. Lord Tarrick has been an okay boss, but I’m not about to die for him, especially if it’s for free.”
Old Man’s lips twitched. “You’re a practical man.”
“I have to be. It’s how I’ve survived this long as an independent mercenary. I can tell when I’m beaten. It’s about cutting my losses and living to fight another day.” Jiren gulped. “I will live to fight another day, won’t I?”
“You will need to cooperate fully, and we will also be restraining your magic. Do you accept those terms?”
“Sure. And if you let me ‘escape’ after we’re done here, I’ll show you where all the good stuff is. You won’t have to beat it out of me or anything.” Jiren shrugged. “A man has to make coin somehow, doesn’t he? Don’t worry. I won’t go looking for revenge or anything. I get it. This is business. You let me go, and I’ll just disappear – no hard feelings or anything.”
“Very well. Let those be our terms.” Old Man lowered his blade. “But if you betray us…”
“I get it.” Jiren shuddered. “I’m not stupid. You’re a terrible matchup for me. I don’t know exactly how your magic works, but you can move fast enough that I can’t tag you with any of my paper. You can also cut through my reinforced paper like it’s, well, paper.”
Gerald couldn’t blame Jiren for his actions. He was a mercenary, and there were many mercenaries who practiced a more pragmatic approach to surrender, rather than worrying entirely about honour. It wasn’t even unheard of for mercenaries on opposing sides to let each other live with the understanding that the favour would be returned in the future.
“Give me some restraints,” Old Man said to Gerald. “And watch your step while you’re walking here. One of the rats can show you a safe path.”
Gerald summoned some magical restraints – he had plenty of them with him at all times – and Old Man put them on Jiren. “Do you need any more?”
“Two sets should be fine,” Old Man replied. He chuckled. “He’s not Avraniel.”
Gerald shuddered. The elf could shatter multiple sets of magical restraints through the magical equivalent of brute force. Jiren was skilled, but Old Man was right. He didn’t have the sort of overwhelming power needed to simply smash his way out of magical restraints. Besides, with a ninja rat on his shoulder, Jiren wasn’t in a position to try anything sneaky. One nick with a poisoned needle, and that would be the end of him.
For his part, the paper-wielding mage was true to his word. He led them past more traps and down a winding, labyrinthine set of corridors filled with various monsters and the occasional puzzled guard who quickly decided to run for it after being informed of the dire straits the compound was in. It seemed like the most loyal guards had been the first to reach Avraniel, which meant most of them were either dead or about to be dead.
“I don’t suppose whoever you’re working for is hiring?” Jiren asked as they made their way past another handful of spike pits and a huge swinging blade. Gerald gaped at the man’s audacity, and Jiren grinned. “Hey, don’t give me that look. I’m a mercenary. Today’s enemy could easily be tomorrow’s ally. I go where the work is, and I might as well scout potential work while you guys are around. Considering what you and your friends have done to the place, I know whose side I’d rather be on.” The building shook, and dust tumbled down from the ceiling. “Yep. That elf you’ve got is something else. I thought the casualty reports were a joke when they started coming in, but now I just pity the poor bastards who’ve got to fight her.” He nodded at Old Man. “No offence. You’re better with a blade than anyone I’ve ever seen, but being burned alive is kind of a nightmare for someone who relies on paper to fight.”
“No offence was taken. Our fire-loving friend does have a tendency to go overboard. I’m simply relieved she hasn’t accidentally set this building on fire too although it’s likely only a matter of time, which is why we must keep moving.” Old Man looked around them. “It took us some time to get down here, so getting out will also take a while.”
“Don’t worry we’re just about there, and I’ll show you an emergency exit you can use to get to the surface easily.” Jiren stopped in front of a large door. “Well, this is it. The archives are past this door. If you’re looking for more records about his criminal enterprises and all that, the people inside can help you find them. I don’t think they’ll give you much trouble once you explain what’s going on. If anything they’d be more than happy to help.”
Jiren unlocked the door, and Gerald’s eyes widened in horror and amazement. Dozens upon dozens of bureaucrats were chained to desks piled high with enormous stacks of barely sorted paperwork. Their desks were shabby to say the least, their stationery was of absolutely pitiful quality, and their chairs were the very opposite of ergonomic. It was a complete nightmare.
“What is this place?” Gerald screamed.
“Lord Tarrick runs a criminal empire, and criminal empires generate lots of paperwork.” Jiren shrugged. “This is where the paperwork gets done.”
Gerald didn’t think he was someone who cried easily – others might have begged to differ – but he was in tears now. To see fellow bureaucrats – fellow travellers on the road of paperwork – enslaved and forced to work in such awful conditions was heartbreaking. Even the lighting was bad, and many of them were wearing broken glasses that were either tied together with string or glued back in place with low-quality adhesive. No bureaucrat deserved to work in such terrible conditions for a man who clearly did not respect the importance of proper bureaucratic procedure and workplace safety. This… this was an abomination, and he would not tolerate it a moment longer!
“Fellow bureaucrats!” Gerald bellowed, summoning a horn to magnify his voice. “Fear not! We are here to liberate you from this bureaucratic nightmare!”
That got their attention, but like true bureaucrats, they kept working.
“Yeah.” Jiren took the horn from Gerald. “This guy is telling the truth. The compound is currently under siege, and I figure most of the other guards and lieutenants are either dead or about to be dead. I doubt the others will be willing to surrender like me, so you’ll all be free soon.”
That finally got the bureaucrats to stop working. Many of them began to openly weep and wail about the horrors of unsorted paperwork, insufficient stationery, and poorly designed furniture. The ninja rats got to work immediately, and the captured bureaucrats were soon freed from their chains. Old Man and Gerald helped too, the former with his sword and the latter with a pair of bolt cutters he kept around for emergencies.
As they were freeing the last of the bureaucrats, a group of guards rushed in. Apparently, a few of the braver and more loyal ones were still alive.
“What are you doing, sir?” the leader of the guards shouted. “Why aren’t you fighting them?”
Jiren shrugged. “I already tried that. It didn’t go so well. Look, you’re a nice guy, Elton. I suggest you either run for it – they’ll let you go – or surrender.”
“I will do nothing of the sort –”
Perhaps Gerald was feeling a bit vindictive after seeing his fellow bureaucrats held in such awful conditions, but he reached into his magic for something – anything – to show them how angry he was. A jar appeared in his hands, and he hurled it at the guards. His aim was a little off, so it was about to go over them, but Matisse had caught onto his plan. A well-placed needle shattered the jar, an
d its contents rained down on the guards.
The guards promptly began to melt.
“…” Gerald’s mouth opened and closed, but only a strangled squawk of horror emerged. “What… but… I…?” He stared at his hand. “I thought I was throwing itching powder at them not… not…”
“Huh.” Jiren tilted his head to one side. “That looks like hydra acid.” He cringed as Elton turned into a puddle of goo. “Really strong hydra acid.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Gerald cried. “It was supposed to be itching powder or something – not hydra acid!” He looked at Old Man. “You have to believe me!”
“Gerald, given how many people I’ve killed tonight, I’m not going to judge you.”
“But –”
“And given the horrid conditions these people have been kept in,” Old Man continued. “Most people wouldn’t think any less of you for wanting a bit of revenge although perhaps melting them is going a little bit too far.”
“But –”
“Damn.” Jiren nudged Old Man and laughed nervously. “And I thought you were scary. It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, I guess. I’m glad I surrendered. It’s a pity about Elton though. He was a nice guy. We used to get pork buns from this great bakery down the road.” He sighed. “We even went fishing a couple of times, you know.”
Old Man smiled faintly as Gerald continued to stammer denials. “He may not be the bravest man around, but he has his moments. He is brave when it matters, and he would never abandon a friend.” He gestured at some doors at the far end of the hall. “I assume Lord Tarrick has an office here. Can you get us into it?”
“Sure. But we’ll need to grab some of the bureaucrats. They’re the ones who filed everything.” Jiren looked about furtively. “And now that I think about it, could you maybe give me a few cuts, possibly even a conveniently placed stab wound? Just in case I ever end up working with these guys again, I’d like to be able to say I somehow managed to survive fighting you guys although I was gravely wounded.” He paused and glanced at Gerald. “I was going to ask him to do it, but… yeah. After what I just saw, I think I’ll take my chances with you.”
Old Man chuckled. “We can work something out once we’re done here.”
“I told you, I didn’t mean to do that!” Gerald wailed.
“Relax,” Jiren said. “I’m not judging you. Sure, the hydra acid was a bit over the top, but, hey, nobody’s perfect although you should probably work on your aim. You would have missed unless that rat over there helped you.”
Chapter Three
Never let it be said that Avraniel was easily amused, at least, not for long. After setting the courtyard on fire and incinerating/exploding a seemingly endless horde of weak guards, stupid mages, and other random idiots, she was on the lookout for not only better challenges but also better rewards. Sure, the quality of their weapons and armour was good, but carrying it all around would be a hassle until Gerald came back. She did have a bag that was bigger on the inside than the outside – one of Timmy’s many, many attempts to replicate the magic Mike the corpse dealer used, albeit not with much success – but it wasn’t nearly big enough, and she wanted to save it for more valuable loot.
What she wanted right now was something small, easily carried, and extremely valuable. A pure soul crystal would be nice. Most of those were about the size of her fist, and they could bind and seal away creatures like elementals, demons, and spirits. She’d even seen someone use a soul crystal to seal away a mongoose although that had been by accident. The mongoose had simply gotten in the way when he’d been aiming for an earth elemental. More importantly, pure soul crystals were worth obscene quantities of money.
The rat on her shoulder, Bramante, squeaked a suggestion. He was one of Spot’s favourites, and he was an expert in the noble art of large-scale demolition. None of the rats could match his expertise when it came to identifying structural weaknesses and chaining together explosions. He also had a keen eye for treasure, and Spot loved all of his stories about robbing people blind before blowing up their castles, dams, bridges, mines, and vaults. It was an approach to life that Avraniel could definitely appreciate.
“The treasury?” Avraniel grinned toothily. “We could have a look. We are supposed to be drawing their attention, and what could draw more of their attention than attacking their treasury? We’re just doing our bit to help out with the mission.” The fact that the treasury was probably overflowing with valuables was simply a happy and very profitable coincidence. “Do you know which way it is? I might have stopped listening to the damn people eater about an hour into her lecture about the layout of this dump.”
Honestly, the people eater should have just done what the idiot did: grab a map, point at all of the important places, and then summarise what they needed to do in the first fifteen minutes of his lecture before going into more detail. That way, she’d only have to listen to someone prattling on for a quarter of an hour. Avraniel wasn’t one of those stupid soldiers the vampire had gotten used to bossing around as a councillor. Avraniel had goals – and one of those was lining her pockets while making life as horrible for their enemies as possible.
Bramante pointed.
“Good.” Avraniel raised her voice and flicked a bolt of flame at a guard who had faked being dead before trying to ambush her. Unless he could survive being blasted in half and set alight, she was fairly confident he was dead this time. “Come on,” she told the other rats. “This is getting boring. We’re hitting the treasury.”
The other demolition rats cheered, and Bramante rubbed his little paws together while cackling malevolently. Avraniel smiled. No wonder he and Spot got along so well. He looked positively adorable when he was planning to rob someone. She’d have to let him pick out something nice in the treasury. After all, if he was going on more missions with them, he’d need better equipment. It wouldn’t do for one of Spot’s favourite rats to get hurt.
As she ambled toward the treasury, she took a few moments to set the barracks on fire, along with the towers closest to her. Fighting in the dark would have been tiresome although she did have essentially perfect night vision. There was something so soothing about the way the flames leapt and danced as they devoured everything. More guards and mages poured out of nearby buildings to confront her, and she rolled her eyes. Whoever owned this place had to be loaded because it felt like every damn mercenary in the Combine was here. Hopefully, he hadn’t spent all of his money on mercenaries. She was not going to be happy if the treasury was empty. If it was, then she might have to burn this whole place down – after the others had gotten out, of course. She wasn’t an idiot.
“Die, demon!”
A bolt of lightning crackled through the air, and Avraniel jerked out of its path. These guys didn’t have a hope of beating her in anything even remotely resembling a fair fight. They should be trying to sneak up on her, not screaming about killing her. Her reply turned her opponent and the guards closest to him into living bonfires. They screamed and scattered in all directions. On her shoulder, Bramante snickered and continued to prepare more of his weaponry. That was another thing she liked about him. He was perfectly happy doing some of the dirty work himself.
“Yes,” she agreed as Bramante squeaked a few comments. “They would have been better off stopping, dropping, and rolling to put out the flames, but I’m not going to complain.” She shrugged. “If they want to run around and set other people on fire that just makes my life easier.”
One of the burning guards had grabbed onto a healer in a desperate bid to secure their aid. Alas, all he accomplished was setting the healer on fire too. Apparently, despite having the money to afford this many mercenaries, their employer hadn’t bothered to get fire-resistant cloaks. In fairness, her fire was far from normal. It could burn things that couldn’t normally be burnt, but it wasn’t like she’d put a lot of effort into her attack. A few anti-fire runes or seals should have been enough. Timmy, for all that she called him an idiot, n
ever went on a mission without clothing that had protective runes and seals stitched onto it. As for the enemy mage – the one who’d thrown lightning at her – he’d stumbled headlong into another group of soldiers, and now all of them were on fire. Avraniel sighed and shook her head. She almost felt sorry for the poor bastards. Almost. He’d thrown lightning at her, so she wasn’t about to shed any tears for him.
Her keen hearing picked out the hiss of a crossbow bolt, and she turned to bat the projectile out of the air. It was followed by half a dozen more, but her mantle of flames roared to life, and the bolts were reduced to ash in mid air.
“Not bad.” Whoever was shooting at her had tried to ambush her – and they’d chosen a fairly thick and sturdy wall to hide behind. “But you’re still dead.”
The rat lobbed a small metal sphere over the wall. It was an interesting device. It was designed to explode after a short delay and unleash a hail of metal shards. It wouldn’t do much to someone like her, but it would make mincemeat out of lightly armoured troops without access to defensive magic. A moment passed before the device exploded, and screams filled the air. Her lips curled. It might not do as much damage as her magic, but the device could be thrown over obstacles like walls or even bounced off walls to get around corners. If Spot had been around, they could have gotten him to fly over the compound and drop bunches of them on their enemies.
Another mage emerged from the shadows of a nearby building, and Avraniel gaped in disbelief as he actually had the audacity to throw a fireball at her. She snuffed his attack out with barely more than a thought and then turned to glare. The air around her rippled with heat at her displeasure.
Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City Page 8
