"Although I appreciate the simplicity, " Kara says, walking down the hallway, "we should have more of a plan than to kill everyone."
I follow after her, putting the now restored Revolver in my belt. It has to work as an improvised holster until I can get a new one. "I have more of a plan but that's the gist of it. I'll make them regret setting up camp here but first we have to gather some information."
We step outside and I start leading her to The Wrong Ferret Inn, the place I used to crash at while grinding levels for [Magitech Tinkerer]. The owner, Clarabelle, lets her husband run most of it, only standing behind the counter chatting and drinking with customers.
The Inn is currently relatively empty, only having a group of four sitting at a table, Clarabelle serving them a big leg of some roast, heavily spiced.
"Ahh, Grant," Clarabelle greets me, looking over to Kara with a small smile, "I see you have a new companion, care to introduce me?"
I don't know why but she always assumes that I want to share stories or get personal. Walking over to the bar and sitting down, I wave to her "Hello, this is Kara. Can we talk about something in private?"
"Sure, dear," she says, putting down the Roast. Walking over, she whispers conspiratorially "If it's about her, I am sure you can figure something out with some communication. Whatever others have told you, it's perfectly normal to be confused."
Kara bursts out laughing, having heard Clarabelle's whispering, "Oh no, we aren't together."
Why is that always so funny to her, does she think she is out of my league or something? “Hey!”
Clarabelle chuckles and grabs two classes and holds one up to the tap. "Grant, an ale I assume? Kara, what can I get you?"
I nod as Kara orders a drink, looking at the shelf behind her, mostly to be polite, "I'll take an ale."
She pours us both an ale after I hand her the coins, using one of her skills so it’s chilled and has a nice crown of foam on top, before leaning over the counter and setting down our drinks “What is this private matter you wanted to talk about? You’ve been gone for quite a while, don’t tell me you got your own place already.”
She should know that I was travelling around instead of settling down with someone in Strendorrs mine, I never mentioned that I wanted to settle down or even buy a place, not with her rooms being as clean and comfortable as they are. Jeremy really is doing a good job at cleaning this place while she dotes on the customers, she treats everyone who rents a room here like family. “I was wondering if you have heard of any recruiters of the Stokes around here, I heard they give great benefits to new members.”
She grabs one of the dirty glasses from the sink, absentmindedly wiping it clean without actually affecting the obvious stain on it. “Why would you want to join the Stokes? You always spoke ill of them or eradicated their camps, I don’t think they’ll be interested,” she says while Kara surveys the other Patrons.
“I think their trade with magical items could benefit me and I know they always need more hitmen,” I lie through my teeth, spinning a tale that’s somewhat believable for anyone who doesn’t know me, “I would even pay off the debt I probably have amassed. They want some recompensation, there is no doubt about that.”
She chews her lip thoughtfully, probably having caught onto the uncharacteristic cooperativeness of my offer, before answering “I know of Stokes members that are currently running a recruiting pitch but I won’t just tell you where you can find them. I can give them a message though, if you’d like that.”
One of the men sitting at the table walks over to the bar with his mug in hand, putting it on to the counter, “I heard you are looking to join the Stokes, what makes you think that you got what it takes the Stokes don’t just accept anyone?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
They’ve got more than enough cannon fodder that’s worthless if given any task more difficult than shoot, I should know, I killed multiple of them. I take a sip of my ale and glance at him.
His hair is unkempt, greasy and dirty, while his dagger and rifle are pristine, showing similar priorities to mine, maintaining weapons over appearances.The ring with the emblem of the Stokes is prominently displayed on his right hand, stuck permanently on a stump of a finger, crooked. His level is relatively high for a foot soldier of the stokes, reaching level 11 in a city like this is rather impressive, he probably doesn’t -or can’t- delegate.
“Well, Why don’t I show you some of my work, it’s just a five minute walk from here,” I say.
He looks back at his group, thinking himself at an advantage with all of his friends, before downing his entire mug. “Let’s go, your friend will stay here though, she is giving me the creeps.”
Kara smiles thinly at him, just enough to not reveal her fangs but unnerve him. “Why is that?” she asks, hiding her mouth with her mug, nursing it carefully.
“I used to be a [Hunter] and my Skills recognise you as a monster, not a human,” he explains, standing up.
I follow his example, taking another large sip before setting it down and standing up. “Let’s go, I heard that you are great fans of fire magic.”
A lopsided grin spreads across his face as he motions his cronies to follow. “Maybe you aren’t too bad, let’s see what you got.”
We take our leave, Kara nursing her mug as we leave, narrowing her eyes at the last crony.
I quickly lead them into an alley, counting on Kara picking up on my hints and following after, I stop and turn around to them. “So, how about you tell me where you keep your prisoners and you get to live?”
“Excuse me?” their leader asks, looking around as if expecting laughter or someone to show up.
“You heard me, drop your weapons or you die.”
“Marcus,” he laughs, not even turning around as he motions for him to step forward, "take care of him."
A shadow drops behind Marcus, swiftly breaking his neck and sucker punching the crony next to him. She rips the dagger from his wrist, breaking the leather strap holding it in place.
Dashing forwards, I whack the leader with my revolver as he turns around to check on Marcus.
He doesn’t fall unconscious, only taking a step back and pulling out his knife and lashing out at me. “Bitch!”
Kara slits the next ones throat, ramming the dagger in the third ones back.
Pointing my revolver at his head, I take a step out of his range. “So, about my offer.”
“Oh, fuck off, as if I’d tell you,” he says, reaching for his rifle.
Kara kicks him in the leg, making him crash to the ground as she pulls the rifle off his back. “I don’t think you have much of a choice,” she explains, unloading the rifle.
“I’m not telling you squat,” he defies, spitting in my direction.
“Alright,” I agree, cocking the hammer and threatening him, “I can just kill you and leave, searching for another member of the Stokes that isn’t nearly as proud as you.”
Kara hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin with the flat end of the knife, “You could keep him alive if he tells you enough, or I can torture him, I’ve got enough experience getting tortured so it should be easy.”
Does that knowledge apply? I am not sure if it really works like that but I don’t want to disagree with her or he’ll get time to compose himself.
He glances over his shoulder, looking at Kara before turning back. “Yes, no need for the crazy bitch to do her thing,” he quickly agrees, “What do you want?”
“I already told you, where do you keep prisoners?”
“We don’t keep prisoners,” he instantly explains, “We’ve got a little camp in the ravines west but I don’t know of any prisoners, only one [Tinkerer] we recently enslaved.”
“That [Tinkerer] is in the camp, right?”
“Yeah, she’s crafting something new for the boss but I don’t know what, I swear.”
I lower my revolver. “You have three seconds.”
“What do you mean, three seconds?”
“Three,” I start counting as he scrambles to his feet, “Two.”
He runs past Kara, giving her a wide berth as she hisses at him.
“What made you spare him?” Kara asks, sitting down on a crate.
“One,” I end it, raising my revolver and shooting him in the back, “I didn’t.”