“All right, everyone kitted out? Potions, guys, show me your potions.”
Will’s two companions—Mongrel and Kiddo—half-heartedly pulled a healing potion each off their belts and held them up for William to check off. Mongrel’s familiars, five chimps in vests with the numbers 1 through 5 embroidered on them in large print, were currently too absorbed in their well-deserved smoke break to pay any heed.
With a little prodding from their master, they stopped puffing on their cigarettes and chattering amongst themselves long enough to hold up their potions. He checked them off, and turned to triple-checking his own equipment.
It was all there in the bulging satchel he wore over one shoulder, the interior sectioned into various padded pockets to keep everything organized and avoid breakage. Three greater healing potions, two rejuvenation potions, one potion of heat resistance, one serum, and four noxious ignition phials.
He would have liked to bring more, but this would be enough for what they needed to do, and it was probably best not to overburden himself.
Next, he unholstered the slender, black pistol from his belt for an inspection. The enchantment placed on it meant that he wasn’t too worried about mechanical failure, but it couldn’t hurt to be safe. He ejected the seven-round magazine to make sure that was good, reinserted it when satisfied, and repeated the process for the extra magazines attached to his satchel.
“Okay, I’m all good,” William said. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”
“The boys are still smoking,” Mongrel retorted, motioning towards his pack of familiars. “C’mon, let ‘em finish. What’s the rush?”
“If we dawdle long enough, someone might notice us.”
“From over there? Psh. No chance. C’mon, have a heart.”
One of the chimps, Number Two, looked up at William with an innocent smile before taking a long drag off his cigarette and tapping the ash onto a flat rock.
William sighed and threw up his hands. “Whatever. These monkeys are gonna put me out of business if they keep smoking up all my product.”
“Your fault for making ‘em so good, then,” Mongrel said, idly scratching his belly where he lay on the ground, clearly in no rush to get going. He was an oddly built man, with skinny limbs but a round pot belly, with a mop of shaggy hair covering his eyes and an unkempt beard swallowing up his mouth.
It was a nice day for dark work, the midday sun smiling down on them through the swaying green tree crowns overhead. The forest was alive with birdsong, and there were no mosquitoes. The little clearing they had decided to stop in was suffused with the burnt herbal scent of Will’s cigarettes.
Before them, at the end of a shallow incline, there was a ridge. And beyond that ridge, in the flat land below, lay the ruins of a settlement—once called Millstone—long abandoned in the wake of increasing monster attacks.
Recently, bandits had taken up residence in the town and were staging attacks against caravans and travelers going by road between Sheerhome and Timbryhall. Their leader, a man by the name of Big Deal Buck, had a sizable bounty on his head. That wasn’t why Will and the others were there, though—it was just a nice bonus. Because apparently, the bandits were rolling with a moderately powerful demon, and it just so happened that Will needed to employ the services of such a creature.
Number One, an old and grizzled ape, offered the last drag of his cigarette to Number Five, the youngest member of the group, and with that expended the chimps finally dragged themselves to their feet. Three of them collected large iron claw hammers, while two of them strung bows and hung a quiverful of arrows each over their backs.
“I guess that’s our cue,” Mongrel said wistfully, taking Number Three’s offered hand and pulling himself up. “Let’s get this over with, gentlemen. I’ve got a two-way date with a beer and a lawn chair that I don’t wanna miss.”
If there was anything that could be counted on with Mongrel, it was his overwhelming commitment to laziness. He was already in a bad mood from having to get up early and be on the move all morning, and the knowledge of the several-hour trip back home probably did little to alleviate it.
Kiddo, on the other hand, was raring to go. He was only a Level 4, and it was his first proper outing. Barely old enough to make it into Nifala on death, and certainly not over twenty years old. He was playing with a sword, tossing it back and forth between his hands.
“You remember what I told you, right?” Will asked, bumping the young man on the shoulder to stop him goofing off.
“Sure,” Kiddo said, sounding sincere enough. “I stay back since it’s my first time and let the familiars take most of the heat. If I get hurt, I pop a potion right away and get to you.”
Will nodded. “That’s right. Good man.”
Here’s hoping he remembers once his blood starts pumping.
Explorers were usually like that. Impetuous to a fault. It probably said something about the personality profile of those who would pick that Profession to begin with.
They filed out, Mongrel’s boys going first, and headed up the slope. They got to the top of the ridge and got a good look at the cluster of gray buildings below, leaning in on themselves with neglect. The two chimps with bows split off to the left and right at Mongrel’s command, climbing nearby trees to position themselves as long-range support.
The rest of them descended towards the town, and were soon walking among the houses. They didn’t even bother sneaking, as they were approaching in broad daylight. If any of the bandits had a sensory-type build, they would soon be spotted either way.
Near the center of Millstone stood a sagging longhouse once reserved for the chief, with a sloping, scaled roof covered in green moss and walls of red-painted planks that had faded to a dull brown. The shuttered windows offered no view of the interior.
Only now did they begin to tread lightly to avoid setting off any sensitive ears. Will, who had keen hearing himself from his 5 points in Senses, did not hear anything from inside except the occasional bit of jovial conversation.
Looking good.
He gave a silent thumbs up to the rest of them. They approached the double doors at the front, stepping carefully on the gravel path, and stacked up on either side. Will took out his NI-phials, one in each hand, ready to do his part.
The doors were likely barred from the inside to prevent intrusion, so Will signaled to Mongrel to knock it down, who in turn passed the command on to Number One.
The chimp took a step back and made several signs with his one free hand to prime his skill. Then he wound up and smacked the doors square on with his hammer, letting out a guttural cry.
Demolish activated with a low rumbling, and a web of cracks radiated out from the hammer’s point of impact until it covered the doors and then some. The old wood fell apart on itself, crumbling to little pieces that collapsed inward in a cloud of dust and splinters. He could hear men crying out inside, but couldn’t see them with the dust obscuring visibility.
As soon as the door was gone, Will hurled one phial inside, then the other, and heard them smash against the floor. Soon, cries of surprise became hacking coughs and pained retching.
They all took a few steps back, and Will counted out seven seconds for the gas to reach an optimal mixture with the air. Then he cast Spark with a whispered word, making a small flame appear to dance atop his finger, and he flicked the little scrap of fire in through the doorway.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then there was a low whoosh as the gas ignited, followed by a roaring explosion that ripped the shutters off most of the windows and sent a section of the roof flying high into the air. A great, hungry flame tongue extended the doors. Kiddo, who stood closest, had a bit of his blond hair singed off as he ducked under it.
The longhouse sat merrily aflame, and the overlapping screams of horror and agony from inside suggested that their trick had been rather effective.
A man staggered out of the open doorway, lit up like a torch, patting uselessly at himself. By the time he fell to his knees, Kiddo had already gone over to him. A sure cut slashed the man’s throat, and he fell sideways, sputtering a few whispery, gasping, stubborn breaths before he went silent, his corpse still afire and crackling with his boiling fat.
“Shit yeah!” Kiddo cried as he turned to face the others, arms out at his sides. “Way to go, boss-man! This is—”
Will was just about to tell Kiddo to back off when a smoking streak shot past the young man out of the longhouse. A second later, Kiddo’s head slid off his shoulders and bounced along the gravel path towards him. The body dropped like a sack of potatoes, spurting blood from the severed neck.
A lithe, long-limbed man stood before them; a short, curved sword in one hand. He shrugged out of a smoldering cloak, and sidestepped an arrow that came at him from the treeline.
Big Deal Buck, undoubtedly.
“Mongrel, hold back your boys for now,” Will said.
Mongrel frowned deeply. “What? Why?”
“Just do it, man.”
“Whatever.”
Mongrel made no outward move, but he must have issued a mental command to the familiars, because the three with them lowered their hammers a hair, and no more arrows came overhead.
“Killed all my friends,” Buck said matter-of-factly. “That’s kinda hurtful, actually.”
“Looks like they were all fodder, if that was enough to take them out,” Will retorted.
Buck gave a roguish grin. “Well, you’re not wrong. Kinda like your guy there.” He didn’t glance back as a section of the longhouse collapsed with a plume of smoke and a shower of fiery debris. “I think I recognize you two. You’re those crazy hermits.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“I don’t think we’re crazy or hermits, exactly, but yeah, you’re thinking of the right people.”
“Cancer and… Hound, is it?”
Will hated that nickname.
“Mmhmm. He’s Mongrel, though.”
“Right. Since you’re here, I suppose ol’ Brimstone finally put a bounty on me.”
“Yup.”
“How much am I worth?”
“Five thousand.”
Buck clicked his tongue at that. “He thinks so little of me, does he?”
“If it makes you feel any better, we’re not after the bounty.”
“Oh? Just stopped by for a cup of tea, did you?”
“No. We want your demon. If you give us that, we’ll let you leave in peace.”
“Are you serious?” Mongrel forced out through clenched teeth. “What about the bounty?”
“We don’t need the money,” Will assured him, unable to hold back a frustrated sigh.
“It’s a very generous offer,” Buck said, “but I don’t think I like your manners. Get off my lawn, please.”
Buck dropped into a low crouch, his saber in a wound-back guard. Sensing that negotiations had fallen through, Mongrel gave his boys the word to attack.
Will drew his pistol, but had no time to aim as Buck shot into motion. He kicked off into a low leap, weaving unnaturally in the air as he met the first charging chimp halfway up the gravel path. He spun, his saber becoming a silver streak, and Number Three fell away in two pieces.
Buck was freakishly quick. Will had never fought an Entertainer before, but his acrobatics were no doubt the work of one of their signature skills, Panache. Even that wasn’t enough to explain all of it. Dexterity, sure, but he had to have a few points in Haste, too.
And if he had Haste as his advanced attribute, that meant he had picked one of two specialization options. One seemed more likely than the other, and that concerned Will.
Buck landed on top of Number One feet first, driving him to the ground, and ran the saber clean through his chest. The ape let out a rage-filled cry, his sparse fur already soaking with blood.
The old chimp, too stubborn to go down without a fight, held Buck fast with one strong hand, the other weaving a series of shaky signs. Once finished, he grasped the blade with his free hand, and it shook itself apart with a loud snapping and pinging of metal as Demolish triggered on the weapon.
“You sneaky little shit,” Buck swore.
Will fired off a few shots with the Entertainer pinned down, a series of sharp cracks echoing out over Millstone. One shot hit Buck in the shoulder, but the rest missed their mark as he drew a dagger from his belt and spun into a whirling blur with the same motion. Number One’s hand flew clean off and, and Buck dove forward onto his last simian victim, Number Five, who had started to balk at the challenge after seeing his brothers go down in such short order.
It was starting to look a little dire. Will wasn’t a front-liner, and Mongrel wasn’t much of a fighter at all, so once the chimps were through, the likelihood of winning would be low. He decided to bet big on one move before they lost that distraction.
“Amp: Five,” Will muttered under his breath, taking a step forward and holding his off-hand high.
Buck was stabbing Number Five over and over, the young chimp screaming in pain and pawing uselessly at his attacker.
Sorry, pal. Gonna be some collateral damage.
Buck looked up. Seeing what Will was up to, he immediately stood away from the chimp and spun into a twirling, backflipping Panache. But he wasn’t quite fast enough. He was still in range.
“Spark,” Will said.
A great globe of flame erupted in front of his palm, engulfing familiar and Entertainer alike, and blackening Will’s own hand with a surge of stinging pain. Buck was thrown roughly aside, rolling to a stop near the burning building. He scrabbled up to one knee almost immediately, but before he could stand he took one arrow in his uninjured shoulder, then another in the thigh.
“All right, all right!” Buck called out with a pained laugh, hands raised in a gesture of peace. “You got me! Let’s call it quits, yeah?”
“Sounds good!” Will shouted back. He unstoppered a healing potion and downed it in one go, his wounded hand shaking. “Just toss that knife over to us and you’re free to go!”
“You’ve gone mad, kid,” Mongrel hissed, grabbing Will by the shoulder. “We’ve got him half-dead already. Let’s finish him off now!”
Will fixed him with a dull stare. “We’re letting him go.”
“But why?”
“I’ll explain later. Call them off.”
Confused, but at least somewhat reassured that Will seemed to have a plan, Mongrel did as he was asked.
“Thank you—fuck!—kindly,” Buck worked out through gritted teeth as he yanked the arrow out of his leg, allowing him to stagger to his feet. He extracted the second one as well, tossing it to the ground.
“I should probably mention that there was poison on those arrows,” Will said. “Drink this to counter it.” He reached into his satchel, pulled out the bottle of serum, and walked forward a bit to place it down on the ground, then backed up again so that Buck could retrieve it.
“You two are all tricks, aren’t you?” Buck muttered, dragging himself over to the potion bottle. He cracked the wax seal, popped off the stopper with his thumb, and sniffed at the contents, as though he might be able to tell if Will was trying to poison him.
In the end, he drank it all.
“Good,” Will said with a nod. “Next time we meet, I hope it’ll be under better circumstances.”
Buck gave a pained grin, returning a nod that was halfway to a bow. “Cheers to you, Cancer Man.”
And with that, he limped off. Will watched him go for some time, weaving between the town’s buildings.
“I see what you did there,” Mongrel said, arms crossed with a smug little grin. “That potion you gave him was the real poison, right?”
Will threw him a disgusted glance. “No, what are you talking about? That was an actual serum. He should be fine.”
Mongrel’s look of intellectual superiority turned into a deep, dumb scowl. “Then why?”
“Because, dear friend, I happen to pay attention while I’m fighting. Buck was moving damn quick back there. He definitely put points in Haste.”
“Uh-huh?”
“And if he has access to Haste, that almost certainly means he picked Crowd Favorite as his specialization.”
“Uh… huh?”
“And if he has Crowd Favorite, that means he would have used Grand Performance if we backed him into a corner. Do you know what that is?”
Mongrel shook his head. “Nope.”
“Grand Performance is a skill that lets the user plot out a short performance routine in their mind. Then the skill will allow their body to move in such a way as to carry out that performance, no matter what. It can’t be stopped, and the user can’t be hurt during the performance. It only lasts a few seconds, but he can move like a freak during that time.
“Basically, he would have used all his AP to carve us up with it. If he plotted his course right and hit us, we’d be dead for sure. If he missed us with it, he’d be tapped out, meaning he’d be dead. Neither of us wanted those odds, so the smartest thing to do was just to part peacefully. Make sense?”
“Oh.” Mongrel made a disappointed little pout. “So no money.”
“We don’t need the money.”
“Speak for yourself, asshole. You’re the fucking bigshot entrepreneur or whatever. I’m out here hustling.”
“I’ll give you money.”
“It’s not about that. It’s the principle.”
Will sighed. “You’re just being cranky. We got the demon, and that’s all that matters. Get your monkeys down here so we can fetch her out of that house.”
“Fuck you. You’re the only one getting anything out of it with your stupid girlfriend or whatever.”
He really was in a bad mood. Considering that they were a man down, maybe that wasn’t so strange. Kiddo hadn’t been with them long, but he was all right. He would have made a decent sensory-type once experience mellowed him out a bit.
But it was too late to think about that.
The two remaining familiars waddled over to join up with mongrel, bows slung over their shoulders. The corpses of the dead ones melted into streams of billowing energy that flowed into the Builder’s chest. Familiars wouldn’t die permanently as long as their master was alive, so they would recover their wounds inside Mongrel’s soul—or wherever they went—until they were well enough to be used again.
It made them excellent fodder. Will had been completely against Mongrel’s familiar-centric build at first, but it was turning out to be a hit.
Will gave the potion of heat resistance he had brought to Number Two, who was the most dutiful of the familiars. He wandered inside the inferno of the crumbling longhouse without fear, disappearing amid the flames.
Number Four, the troublemaker, was not pleased, glancing repeatedly up at his master. The dead ones probably felt similarly put out.
They would have to pamper the chimps for a while. If a familiar was too dissatisfied with their master, they could break the bond themselves and go off on their own. Considering how much they had cost to buy in the first place, that would make for a royal hassle.
A few minutes later, Number Two emerged from the flames once more, his fur reduced to a blackened stubble all over his body, but otherwise mostly unharmed. He held his arm up high to hold a naked woman by the hand.
She was a beauty, with smooth, ashen skin and long black hair that reached down to her thighs. Slender, almost fragile-looking, while somehow also radiating power. Her breasts were small, with black nipples. She would have appeared roughly human if not for her unnerving, yellow eyes—striking even from a distance—the brownish horns curving up past her forehead, and black thorny protrusions that outlined the contours of her body.
Evidently, she gave killer hugs.
“Hello, boys,” she purred with a self-satisfied smile, running a hand over one bare breast. “I liked the show. I do adore when men fight over me.”
“Yes, yes,” Will said, nodding along impatiently. “What’s your name, demon?”
“You can call me Nix.”
“I want to make a deal, Nix. Will you come with us?”
Her eyes narrowed to yellow slits as she padded towards them on bare feet. Mongrel called to Number Two, but the chimp stayed by the demon’s side, holding her hand the whole way. Someone was in love already.
“I might be in the mood for some manflesh,” she said, twirling a black strand around her finger. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if it’s too boring.”
“I want to bring a person here from Earth.”
Her brows shot up. “Oh? You realize a person has to die to get here, right?”
“I do. Even so.”
“Wow.” Nix crossed the last few steps between them and let the chimp run off. “Now that is evil. I love it.”
She reached out to touch his face, but Will slapped her hand away. She laughed at that. “Ooh, touchy touchy.”
Mongrel did not bother with any such shred of integrity, staring openly at the demon’s naked form. She evidently noticed his admiration, turning towards him with hands on hips, everything proudly on display.
Nix opened her mouth, but Will cut her off before she could speak. “His name is Mongrel Matt, and no, you won’t be having sex with him. We’re not interested in those kinds of deals.”
Mongrel looked a little slighted at that. “I mean—”
Will shot him a glare that didn’t offer up any discussion. “Mongrel. We talked about this. You can’t seriously blow your load in the first five fucking seconds. Nix, let’s get you back to our place so we can go over details and start drafting up contracts.”
“Fiiine,” she said in a sing-song voice, skipping happily alongside him when he turned to leave back the way they’d come. The familiars fell in step behind Mongrel, carrying the equipment of their fallen brothers.
“You know, I think I’m going to like you two,” Nix continued. “One fun-loving, one all-business. I do like to eat my dinner and dessert at the same time. Sweet and savory.”
“Are you always this chatty?” Will asked.
“Yep.”
He sighed. “Great.”
“Wait,” Mongrel said after a while. “Why did you give Big Deal the antidote, anyway? Couldn’t we have just waited for him to die and collected his body later?”
“True,” Will admitted. “But I like Buck. I’ve heard good things about him. He’s a bandit now, but that’s only because he’s got bad blood with Brimstone. Sometimes, friends are worth more than money.”
Mongrel shook his head, and his familiars echoed the gesture. “Brother, I say this with all the love in my heart. You suck.”
“I love you too, Brother.”