The dense mist enveloped Gavhin's streets like a shroud, Jack dashed frantically to keep sight of the man, who weaved between buildings like a snake.
The man jumped and weaved between obstacles, from street lamps to sewer drains.
It seemed that the man really didn’t seem to know where he was going. Finally he ran into an alley with a dead end. The man seemed to have finally run into a dead end.
Jack whipped out his knife. He knew men like this were armed and ready to fight. He leveled it at him. "Why did you attack me in Keywark?" Jack's voice was low, laced with a simmering anger.
eyes widened with fear as he backed against the cold stone wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I-I mistook you for someone else," he stammered, his voice trembling.
Jack's gaze narrowed, skepticism etched into his features. "Don't lie to me,” he growled. "Who are you and why are you really here?"
Poe's facade crumbled under Jack's relentless gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Alright, fine," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Poe, and I'm a Tarnished Raven."
Jack's jaw tightened at the mention of the name. He had heard of the organization before. They were less of a gang and more a syndicate. "And what does the Tarnished Raven want with me?"
Poe hesitated, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. "We... We saw what you did in Rorin," he confessed, his words hesitant. "You killed the hero Curt, and we... We wanted to thank you."
Jack was shocked momentarily. someone saw what he did. But he snapped out of it quickly.
Jack’s fists clenching at his sides."Thank me?" he shot back, incredulous. "By trying to rob me?"
Poe shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I know it was wrong," he muttered, shame coloring his words. "But Curt was causing us trouble, and... and we thought maybe you could help us."
“By trying to rob me.”
Yes, well, in the Tarnished Raven, people must prove themselves worthy of joining.
Jack's voice edged with anger. "I don't associate with criminals," he spat. "And I certainly don't need your help."
“Well, you certainly owe us now that you removed some of our own,” Poe muttered.
“What-”
Jack realized.
“They died didn't they?”
Poe gritted his teeth, “they were weak, you are worth at least thrice their strength and intelligence. You did, after all, escape Keywark all on your own, didn’t you?”
Jack hesitated, Bel didn’t need to be involved in the conversation, to Jack, she was a friend. To Poe, she would be seen as a target.
Jack gritted his teeth, “I refuse to join your gang.”
Poe's eyes flashed with defiance, his resolve strengthening in the face of Jack's rejection. "Fine," he retorted, his voice tinged with bitterness. "But if you don't let me go, I'll tell the police what you did."
Jack scoffed at the threat, his gaze unwavering. "You think they'll believe you?" he countered. "You're just a common thug, Poe. And the police know it."
Poe's lips curled into a sneer. "Maybe," he admitted, "But if anything happens to me, my Tarnished brothers will come looking for you.”
Jack hesitated.
“No one has to know what either of us did.”
“No.”
Jack took a step towards Poe.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Poe stuttered, “You don’t even have to join, just meet the boss, that’s it. That’s all he wants.”
Jack grimaced, then he made his decision. "Fine," he conceded, his voice firm. "Give me the address."
Poe reached into his pocket, withdrawing a crumpled piece of paper and a nub of charcoal. Scrawling an address onto the paper, he tossed it onto the floor next to Jack with a cautious glance. "There," he said, his voice tinged with fear. "Now let me go."
Jack lowered his knife. Poe ran past him and disappeared into the fog.
At first, Jack thought that Poe had given him the wrong address, the building had been seemingly abandoned a long time ago, the bricks cracked and chipped from erosion. The windows broke and boarded.
The door was wide open, Jack cautiously stepped inside, preparing for an ambush from the dimly lit room inside. When nothing came, he sheathed his knife, and surveyed the room. Wood creaked under his feet. He stopped and listened.
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A faint noise came from beneath the floorboards. The sound of muffled yelling and chatter.
Jack was about to press his ear against the board, when it popped open suddenly.
Jack leaped back.
An ogre about twice Jack’s height, and thrice his width, stuck his head through the floor.
“Poe sent?” The ogre growled.
Jack nodded, “Yep, he did.”
“Wait,” the ogre rumbled.
He disappeared for a minute, then rose up again.
“Enter now.”
The ogre flipped open the board completely.
Jack peered down the hole. It was a staircase, lit by lanterns on either side.
As he descended the noise got louder, distant cheers.
When he got to the bottom, he found out where the voices were coming from.
The room was massive, the size of a meeting hall. Lines of people formed a ring around the center of the room, for which there was a pit. A field of energy covered the top of the pit, like a lid, it glowed the faintest yellow.
It was a fighting ring.
Jack surveyed the room. No sign of Poe.
Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, which caused him to almost jump.
Poe grinned at him. “I see you decided to visit. Glad I didn’t have to send them after you. Take a seat.”
Jack sat down. Poe sat a few seats away.
“What is this place?” Jack asked, knowing damn well what the pit was. He just wanted to hear Poe’s answer.
“It’s a fighting ring, like the coliseum!” Poe shouted from his seat. “Some of our best fighters come here, to purify themselves by death.
“What?!” Jack asked.
Poe shrugged, “I have no idea what it means either. They call it a purgatory fight. It means that they are purifying themselves by fighting.”
“What does that even mean?” Jack asked.
Poe waved his hand, “it doesn't matter, people don't come here for the purification stuff, they come here to watch the fight.”
The people around the pit roared in excitement. Two fighters had entered the ring. One had the head of a dog, but the horns of a bull, and the other had the body of a lizard, but the head of a normal human, with black beady eyes, the forked tongue of a snake, and fangs dripping with venom.
“Two combatants enter the pit! One leaves!
“Our first fighter, born a weapon of war, but alas too late, wandered a world free of conflict for nearly a decade, seeking to fulfill his purpose!”
“BULLDOG!”
“Our second fighter, an assassin from the heart of the black desert! His strength, speed, and stamina unmatched! Silently executing his enemies!” No one even knew his name until he stepped up to the ring!”
“LIZENON!”
Place your bets now!” The man in the chamber across the room yelled.
The crowd began chanting. “TWO ENTER, ONE LEAVES! TWO ENTER, ONE LEAVES!”
Multiple servants circled the audience, some offering drinks, and others taking bet money.
A servant approached Jack, she held out a plate with a divider in the middle, with one icon on each side, A dog and a snake.
“Cast your vote,” she said, motioning to the plate.
Jack waved his hand. “No thank you.” The servant didn’t move. “Regardless, you still must pay for your admission, since you were not invited.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen Silver and five Copper”
Jack reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out his payment, dumping it into the plate.
“I was not invited, who was then?” Jack asked, but the servant already left.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen! I have received your bets!” the announcer shouted.
Jack looked back down at the fighters, they had begun circling each other rather than simply glaring.
The crowd's chants got louder.
“ARE YOU READY?!” The announcer screamed.
The crowd roared.
Jack gripped his seat with anticipation.
“FIGHT!”
Lizenon launched himself toward Bulldog at a blinding speed. Jack had seen Aldarians move faster, but still, Lizenon might have something more powerful in store.
Bulldog put his arms up, Lizenon slammed into him, pushing Bulldog back a few feet. Bulldog swung at Lizenon, who dodged.
Lizenon got low to the ground and charged at Bulldog. Bulldog intercepted the punch again, but this time grabbing Lizenon’s arm, and swinging him into the wall, violently shaking the pit.
Jack leaned forward, genuinely amazed that the beasts displayed such an understanding of hand to hand combat. He had half expected, they would simply throw each other around until one died, but that had not been the case.
Lizenon, recovering quickly, backflipped over Bulldog, and slashed at him, drawing the first drops of blood. Bulldog, enraged, leaped toward Lizenon and punched him in the stomach. Bulldog wrapped his arms around Lizenon’s neck, choking him.
Half the crowd became upset, while the other became more excited.
Lizenon squirming, slowly suffocating, finally broke free, after a few minutes. He took a gasp of air, then lunged with his fangs ready to strike.
Bulldog, moments before receiving the attack, put his arm up. Lizenon, latched onto his arm. Bulldog roared in pain, and pummeled Lizenon repeatedly until his bite loosened, then he proceeded to grab Lizenon by the neck, and rip him off, like an arrow.
The crowd began chanting, screaming. Lizenon lunged for another attack, but Bulldog, now familiar with his attack pattern, kicked Lizenon midair, and pinned him to the ground.
The chants got louder, some people were throwing scraps of food into the pit.
Bulldog, putting his foot on Lizenon’s chest, grabbed his arm. Gripping it tightly, he ripped it clean off.
Lizenon began silently writhing in pain. Bulldog, raising his fists, prepared to finish him off, suddenly collapsed. He twitched violently, then he went limp.
The room exploded.