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Calamity Muse [LitRPG, Dark Fantasy, Steampunk, Villainess]
Chapter 11: Fight, Bet, and the Shadowdancer

Chapter 11: Fight, Bet, and the Shadowdancer

After a bit of tidying up the corpse-strewn cathedral floor, Cedric explained the situation to her. Apparently, the corpses belonged to some brigands and thugs that intended to pillage the place—a seasonal occurrence it seemed—and Cedric... took care of them.

Gotta love it when a gargoyle stands watch.

Aubrey considered her next move. They needed to dispose of the corpses. A midnight grave-digging session awaited her and Cedric.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

Unburying herself. Then burying others.

Just fucking awesome.

Thaddeus busied himself unloading the wagon full of gadgets and mechanical devices. The brass and copper construct carried each box and crate with ease. In no time at all, he emptied the cart, storing all of his stuff in the cathedral's sub-levels.

"I didn't think you'd bring an automaton back from your stroll," Cedric commented as he followed Aubrey out of the cathedral.

"Yep. He's a good guy. He plays music. Has a nice brass ass."

"I see... wait, what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Aubrey dismissed.

After burying the bodies later that night, she set to sleep and promptly conked out.

Morning came, and Aubrey awoke refreshed. Her body still ached from the fight yesterday. But she felt surprisingly better. She wandered downstairs to the chapel area and found Thaddeus disassembling a mechanical device.

"Morning, Thaddy. What're you doing?" Aubrey called out from the doorway.

The automaton waved. "Good morn. Aubrey. Adjusting my mechanical corpus. Greetings to your winged associate."

Aubrey looked to her left. Cedric leaned against the wall by the entrance, watching Thaddeus.

"Oh, yeah. This is Cedric. Gargoyle. And resident protector. Ceddy, this is Thaddeus. Automaton musician and artificer of sorts. My newest bestie."

Cedric nodded, the morning light refracting off the contours of his stone body. "Greetings. Thaddeus Vanholt. Honor to have you here."

"Verily. Likewise and the same," Thaddeus tipped his top hat and continued disassembling a contraption.

Aubrey sat on a pew and watched. Thaddy worked with surgical precision, manipulating screws, gears, bolts, and rods. She observed his brass digits and their dexterity. Impressive.

"Oh, Ceddy, guess what? Me and Thaddy decided to form a band."

"Band?" Cedric glanced at her.

"Yep. A group or collective devoted to performing music and singing songs." Aubrey elaborated.

"A musical ensemble," Thaddy chimed in. "'Twould possess myriad merits and advantages."

Cedric inclined his stone head. "Sounds intriguing. Musical bands have existed since the ancient past. I've seen orchestras perform at festivals. Though, I'm unfamiliar with the modern incarnation. What's an ensemble like these days?"

"Modern ensembles have progressed tremendously. Mechanical advancements have augmented and enhanced musical performance," Thaddeus explained.

"Like?" Aubrey prompted.

Thaddeus straightened and set aside his tools and dismantled gadgetry. "Mechanization of stringed instruments has improved the tonal quality of lutes, violins, guitars, and harps. Such methods include the implementation of dynamic tension regulators for sustained strings, allowing musicians to modulate the vibrato depth and speed with unprecedented precision.

Tempered tuning pegs for more accurate notes and sharper pitches. Metallurgy innovations have increased durability and strength without compromising resonance. All of which permit more sensitive control and precise playability. Furthermore..."

Thaddeus' lecture continued for a solid fifteen minutes.

Damn. Talk about an encyclopedia. Aubrey absorbed some of his technological jargon and caught Cedric's vacant gaze. Seems like the gargoyle has checked out halfway.

Eventually, Thaddeus finished his lecture.

Aubrey blinked, unsure of what to say or comment. Technical terminology and mechanical engineering flew right above her head.

"Uhhh... sounds amazing."

"Verily. Music has progressed magnanimously." Thaddeus replaced his top hat and picked up a dismantled contraption. "Additionally, percussion has benefitted similarly. Mechanical enhancements have yielded improved tactile feedback, more precise control, and greater versatility."

"Wow... cool." Aubrey attempted to comprehend his technobabble and failed.

She switched topics. "Thaddy. Any musical groups or bands around here?"

"There are numerous."

Aubrey slapped her knee. Time to scout the competition—and while she was at it, find clues regarding the four people who killed her.

These two couldn't possibly tag along. She could see Thaddeus blending in somehow... but not Cedric. Not with those wings and stone body. People would either scream or call guards.

Or would they?...

"Hey, are automatons commonplace?"

"Commonplace would differ from uncommon," Thaddeus adjusted his top hat. "Automata creations vary. Some are utilized for menial labor and manual tasks. Others serve as sentry guards and patrol the perimeter. There also exist humanoid automata for companionship and recreation. Yet, sentient constructs and animated entities such as mine person and the gargoyle, would draw notice."

Figured as much. Aubrey hummed.

"Alright. Thanks. Lemme go scout the musical scene and scope the city. Be back later."

Thaddeus fiddled with his copper innards. "Safe travels."

"Ceddy. Cover the fortress. Oh, and you two bond while I'm gone." Aubrey waved and departed.

----------------------------------------

Aubrey spent the day exploring more of the Gallows Row district, traveling the winding roads and navigating the maze-like lanes and alleyways. She traversed cobbled paths, circumvented manhole grilles, and ducked beneath archways and gables.

Onward through the mists and fog, through the squalor and gloom. This place had a Dickensian vibe going on. Gas streetlamps. Dim cobblestone lanes. Shadowed and gloomy houses. Shanty homes. Broken signboards and hanging sigil lanterns.

Honestly... kinda liked it.

Plus, the weather was great, fog and clouds aside.

Not long after her trek, she started doubting whether this expedition would pan out fruitfully. She knew she was a singer in this life as well, but would she have even gone out here to perform?

Doubtful.

Barely anyone around here would even have the spare coin to spare for entertainment. Busking in this part of town wouldn't work. Unless beggars could spare a penny.

Shit. Maybe this trip would net a big fat goose egg.

Aubrey sighed and kicked a stone.

Well... guess she'd explore regardless. She should at least find out what the entertainment scene looked like amidst the destitute so that she could establish baseline expectations about her future gigs.

After a half-hour hike, a distant tune drifted through the fog, a melody emerging from the mist. Curious, Aubrey followed the notes. The song sounded catchy. Hopefully, her intuition paid dividends and not a waste of her afternoon.

Minutes passed, and the melody grew louder. Aubrey walked onward until a building emerged from the fog. Its signboard depicted a trio of dice. The tavern stood sandwiched between a dilapidated building and a crooked structure, looking as if the slightest breeze could knock them over.

She approached the establishment, the notes emanating clearer. Frantic, lively tunes. Violin screeching. She couldn't help but tap her foot.

As Aubrey drew nearer to the tavern's entrance, the door burst open, and a man flew out, landing on the cobblestones with a wet THUD. The crowd inside roared and cheered.

Woah...

Aubrey entered.

The interior of the tavern looked like a miniature coliseum. A sandpit occupied the center of the room. Spectators surrounded the fighting ring, exchanging bets and cheering.

Within the sandbox, a burly bruiser swung his fists, throwing haymakers and lunges. His opponent, an athletic fighter, avoided his blows. The smaller man's fists blurred, the patter of his punches punctuating the chaotic melody.

Amidst the din and chaos, a violinist perched atop a makeshift stage on one end, shredding a frantic and energetic tune, her bow skimming the strings. The music raced and escalated. Aubrey caught the performer's gaze, a young woman dressed in tattered clothes and a soot-covered face.

Meanwhile, the fighters danced around each other, trading blows, their punches and kicks connecting with meaty THUNKS.

The violinist's tempo accelerated, reaching a fever pitch. Aubrey found her own limbs moving involuntarily. Her muscles twitched and itched to dance.

Suddenly... the violin screeched and cut short.

WHAM!

The burly bruiser delivered an uppercut, and the opposing contestant crumpled.

The audience cheered and shouted. Coins exchanged hands.

Damn, brutal. Aubrey whistled, impressed.

"Round's done! Onto the next fighters! Place yar bets!" the announcer bellowed.

Aubrey sidled closer and studied the sandpit. Inside the arena lay the unconscious and K.O'd fighter. Nearby attendants dragged the defeated combatant out.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Another pair of bruisers stepped inside the sandpit. They wore cloth wraps over their knuckles and fists.

"Place yar bets, bettors! Fight's about ta resume!"

Aubrey dug into her pockets. Ah, fuck... only a few shillings left. Hopefully, these fights didn't cost too much.

Should she bet? Aubrey wasn't familiar with the odds, competitors, or rules. Plus, gambling had never crossed her mind.

"Yar bets, bettors! Place yar bets!" the crier repeated.

Screw it.

Aubrey approached the betting station and slammed her handful of silver shillings onto the table. "All on the shorter guy."

"Ahahaha. Ya drunk or somethin'? Shorty's favorite ta lose. Tall guy's a house win. Ten to one odds."

"Short guy," Aubrey confirmed.

The bookie swept her coins into a chest. "Shorty. Odds are ten ta one." He handed her a ticket slip. Aubrey pocketed the receipt.

"Start the fight!" the bookie bellowed.

"Hey," Aubrey interrupted. "Mind if I join the violinist and sing along? Just in case I lose my bet, I wanna at least earn back some coin."

The bookie scratched his scraggly beard and pointed with a thumb. "Be ma guest. Tips are yars if ya make folks spend more booze."

Aubrey bounded up the stage and stood next to the violinist. "Hey. Wanna duet?" Aubrey whispered. "You play how you want, and I'll sing along."

The violinist sized her up, her black, shaggy hair falling over her soot-smudged face. Aubrey could barely discern the young woman's delicate features.

"Whatever." The violinist tucked a loose strand behind an ear and wiped her nose. She resumed her frenetic tunes.

Meanwhile, in the pit, the shorter fighter raised his fists within the arena, bouncing on the balls of his toes. Across the sandpit, his towering opponent snarled and grunted.

Aubrey unholstered Hellion's Cry and held it by its fretted neck. She began strumming the guitar in accompaniment. As her digits moved over the frets and strings, the electric runes activated, crackling and radiating indigo arcane light.

Hellion's Cry thrummed, harmonizing with the violin. Aubrey matched the violinist's tempo, her fingers picking and strumming the strings.

The fighters launched their bout, fists and legs blurring. Punches and kicks sailed and connected, cracking. Aubrey sang harder and faster. Meanwhile, the violinist matched her intensifying rhythm.

Aubrey sang a song stuck in her mind, belting lyrics she had penned. Years ago, in her other life, a friend uploaded a track that inspired Aubrey's composition. Her words poured out, her voice growing in intensity, matching the fight's pace.

Many of the spectators stopped their betting and stared. Others swayed and rocked to the beat. Several tapped their feet and stomped along.

Encouraged, Aubrey belted louder. The violinist transitioned her tunes and seamlessly joined her. Together, their notes converged, intertwining.

Soon, a raucous din arose, and the volume escalated. Roaring and shouting, jeering and heckling. Aubrey closed her eyes and immersed herself within the music, letting the melody sweep her senses.

The lyrics flowed from her lips effortlessly—describing people succumbing to their primal instincts and regressing into apes and chimpanzees—the tale depicting a society reverting to cavemen and barbarians.

Throughout the fight, the shorter competitor traded blows and engaged the taller bruiser. Yet, despite his efforts, the odds-on winner slowly began overwhelming the underdog.

Oh no you don't. I bet good money on you. Aubrey strummed the guitar harder, ramping up the intensity. Come on. Don't lose, shorty.

[Skill: "Echo of Vitality" activated! Duration: 180 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds]

[Skill: "Swift Cadence" activated! Duration: 90 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds]

Her vocals rose and swelled. Aubrey channeled her enchantment ability, fueling the shorter fighter with her eldritch energies. Strength and vigor coursed through his veins. His movements hastened and accelerated. The next enchantment echoed and amplified his reflexes and mobility.

The shorter fighter's strikes quickened, and his defenses stiffened. Suddenly, his fist connected with a thundering punch, and the taller bruiser staggered.

Come on! Aubrey strummed Hellion's Cry, sending her empowerment echoing throughout the tavern. The violinist mirrored her intensity and pitched her notes higher.

The underdog's fists blurred, and a furious combo exploded, raining thunderous BLAMS. The taller opponent wobbled and stumbled.

Don't fuck this up. Come on. Finish him!

A savage uppercut Cracked and snapped the taller bruiser's head back.

YES! Aubrey strummed Hellion's Cry and belted a final note.

[You’ve gained a small amount of experience]

The taller opponent toppled over. Sand plumed and erupted.

The underdog threw his fists overhead and howled. The spectators cheered and booed. Money exchanged hands. Aubrey's ticket slip multiplied her returns, rewarding a hefty pile of winnings.

"Shorty Mc'Guff, fer the victory!" the bookie's announcement drowned in the ensuing din.

Hell fucking yes! Score! Aubrey pumped a fist. Winning sure as hell felt fantastic.

After the violinist played a concluding note, Aubrey patted the young woman's shoulder. "Great performance. Hey, what's your name?"

"Liza." The violinist didn't meet her gaze, her soot-smeared face obscured by the curtain of messy hair.

"Great duet," Aubrey commended and extended her palm. "Nice working with you, Liza. Hey, why don't you join my band? We're new to the scene. So, don't have many members yet."

Liza met her gaze, revealing tired and reddened eyes. "Band?"

"Yeah. Band. Sing and play songs. Want in?" Aubrey prodded.

Liza didn't reciprocate or answer. Instead, the violinist stuffed her instrument within the ragged fabric wrap, slung her case over her shoulder, and scurried out the tavern.

"Wait! Hold on!"

But before she could give chase, many of the spectators crowded her and handed tips.

"Song was great."

"Play another round."

"More singing and strummin'."

"Blasted racket."

"Stuff it, ya coxy! Great show."

"Love yer voice."

"Sing another round, lady."

Aubrey tried escaping the sea of spectators, but the surge and press of bodies prevented her. Eventually, Aubrey had no choice but to entertain them and belt out a few more songs.

At least the crowd loved her music. She basked within the emotional buffet, gorging on the crowd's energy and enthusiasm.

[You’ve gained a small amount of experience]

Minutes morphed into an hour, and Aubrey's voice went hoarse. Still, she maintained her composure and sang. Only after the crowd dispersed and cleared did Aubrey dash outside.

Fuck. Lost her. Aubrey had wanted to recruit Liza. She looked like a troubled musician—a kindred spirit and fellow starving artist. Aubrey knew the pain and struggle. The hardship of an aspiring creative and her experience trying to debut and break into the music business.

Having a great violinist in their band would have boosted their musical arsenal. Aubrey sighed. The only iffy part was how Liza would have reacted to Cedric and Thaddeus. Probably not well. Still...

Damn shame.

Aubrey made a mental note to keep a lookout for the young woman and perhaps find her again. Besides, how many violinists could there be in this part of Mordenstradt?

----------------------------------------

Mood dampened by disappointment, Aubrey wandered the streets aimlessly, ruminating and wondering where to look next. The night waxed deeper as she trudged through the labyrinth of alleys and pathways. The moon hung low in the sky, peeking through the thinning canopy of clouds and mists.

Maybe she should turn back and head home—or to the cathedral, rather. As she retraced her steps, a quartet of shadows materialized from the fog, blocking the path behind.

"Oi, witch!" the burliest of the bunch, a man with a nose that looked like it had lost a few too many arguments, slurred. "You've got some explaining to do, lass. That fight... you rigged it with your... your witchery!"

Shit. Of course. Aubrey inwardly groaned. She should have fled immediately instead of singing more rounds. Always bet and run. Bet and run. That's the gambler's rule. Fuck.

Aubrey raised her palms and edged backward. "Easy, guys. Listen. Let's talk this out. No need for violence."

"Ya hexed the bout. We lost coin because o'ya." Another challenger, a scrappy little runt, spat.

"Listen. Calm down. Let's not jump to conclusions." Aubrey backed away and assessed the opponents. Three burly bruisers and a rat-faced man.

Okay. She could handle this.

"How are you sure I hexed the fight? Maybe the tall guy was slower today?"

"'Cause ah could feel it in my scrote," the rat-faced runt hissed, pointing. "Your witchery."

"Righttt. Scrotum intuition. Totally reliable." Aubrey backed up more. "Gentlemen, if I had the power to rig fights with witchcraft, do you really think I'd be wandering these alleys instead of sitting on a throne of gold by now?"

"Enough jabberin'." Burly Nose cracked his knuckles.

"She's definitely a witch," Ratface squeaked. "Burn 'er."

"Calm yo tits. Guys. Please. Let's not—" Aubrey backed away more. She wasn't planning on killing anyone tonight, but these bastards didn't seem rational. Déjà vu struck. It was like the encounter with the graverobbers all over again.

"Burn the harlot," Burly Nose brandished a rusty knife. The trio of bruisers unsheathed their blades.

Ratface wielded a torch.

SHIT!

As much as she wanted to beat the shit out of ‘em right here and now, it wasn’t secluded enough. The commotion could alert more troublesome encounters.

Aubrey bolted. The quartet gave pursuit.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Aubrey dashed through the cobblestones, pumping her legs. The alleyways and lanes snaked and twisted. Buildings flanked the narrow lane, their walls looming and blocking her escape. The pounding footsteps and angry shouts remained close.

Aubrey vaulted over a low-hanging shutter.

"Get 'er!" Ratface squealed.

Burly Nose smashed through the obstacle. Aubrey pivoted and changed directions.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Aubrey ran. Damn, she missed her motorcycle. She would've outrun the punks with no issues. Fuck this. Can't these dipshits accept their loss like gentlemen?!

She rounded another corner through a more secluded alley and slipped, losing her balance and crashing onto the wet stones.

"Gotcha witch!" Burly Nose loomed overhead.

Aubrey whipped her guitar and blocked Burly Nose's downward slash. Her weapon thrummed as the rusted blade bit the chiseled surface. Sparks erupted.

As the others surrounded her, a sudden scream from across the intersection of the alley caused everyone—including Aubrey—to pause.

Before them, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that dared to pierce the alley's gloom, was Liza, engaged in a macabre tableau that Aubrey had never expected to witness.

Liza stood over a man, her form both there and not, a creature of shadow and sighs. From her hands, tendrils of darkness unfurled, wrapping around the man in an embrace that was anything but gentle. His essence, a shimmering silhouette of light, was drawn forth, seeping into Liza as if she were a void that hungered for his very being.

The shadows rippled and swirled around her, cloaking her form as she fed upon the man's life force. Her skin, previously gaunt and pale, grew flushed and vibrant; her eyes, once sunken and hollow, filled out; and her hair, which had been dirty and tangled, became lustrous and full.

She was... beautiful. And terrifying.

Liza's form rippled and shifted as she completed her feeding. She then turned her attention to the group. Her eyes blazed with an indigo light.

"Wh-what in the blazes o' bloody Hell is goin' on here?!" Ratface stuttered in surprise and fear. The torches the gang carried guttered in the wind that suddenly rose from nowhere.

Liza took a step forward, and the shadows around her seemed to stretch and elongate, grasping at the four men who stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.

"U-Unhallowed..." Burly Nose managed to choke out. He lunged at the approaching Liza with his sword aimed at her heart. It pierced through the portion of her chest wrapped in shadow... only for the blade to pass harmlessly through her spectral form.

The shadows grasped at the rusty sword and yanked it from his hand. The weapon clattered to the ground uselessly.

One of the thugs attempted to run, but a tendril of shadow reached out and pulled him back. More and more tendrils appeared, ensnaring each of the four men and preventing any possible escape.

Liza reached the closest man and gazed into his eyes with a sorrowful expression. "I'm... sorry."

As she spoke, the darkness wrapped itself around the thug, and he fell limp. When she let go of his lifeless body a moment later, he dropped to the ground, nothing more than a husk.

The other thugs screamed and struggled against the dark bindings that held them fast, but to no avail. Liza continued her slow and methodical approach toward each of them in turn. Each time she reached one, the process would repeat.

She'd apologize. The darkness would wrap around them. They would die.

By the time Liza had drained the lifeforce from the last thug, the alley was quiet. Nothing stirred save for the sound of the violinist's ragged breathing. Aubrey didn't dare move.

What... just happened...?

Slowly, Liza raised her head, her eyes blazing indigo as she locked gazes with Aubrey. The violinist's expression held a mixture of sorrow and hunger.

"Y-you... saw." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Aubrey swallowed hard. Was this the same shy and timid girl she had encountered earlier in the tavern?

"I did."

Liza's gaze hardened. "Will... will you tell?"

Tell? Aubrey couldn't help but chuckle. "If you hadn't noticed... I'm kind of a freak myself. Who the fuck am I gonna tell?"

Some of the tension drained from Liza's shoulders, and her eyes faded back to their natural green, the indigo glow disappearing. She swayed on her feet and would have collapsed had Aubrey not rushed forward to catch her.

Up close, she could see that the violinist had regained some of her vitality, her cheeks flush with life. The shadows that encompassed half her body retreated slightly, and Aubrey could see that the side bathed in moonlight was perfectly normal.

Liza's eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped against Aubrey. Carefully, Aubrey laid her on the cobblestones and brushed aside a lock of her raven-colored hair.

Who... or what... was this violinist?