Within range, he let the cleaver do its work.
Maybe Jurgen was too excited, because his first two strikes failed. Only with his final action point did the blade puncture his opponent’s body, inflicting nine points of damage.
The guard lived, but he only had one action point with which to respond. Naturally, with a cry, he struck out with his cudgel. Jurgen failed to anticipate the low blow, the weapon cracking against his knees and taking six hit points from him.
Jurgen’s eyes watered, and fear and anger washed over his body. With only two action points per round now, he had to finish his opponent. His first strike was enough, the cleaver coming close to decapitating the guard.
He wished he had the time to appreciate the kill. But knowing his enemy’s cry had probably attracted more guards, all he could do was spare some moments to search the corpse. He grabbed a bunch of keys, then wasted no time in departing the scene.
Jurgen refused to panic. Another confrontation would likely be fatal. He was even more careful, moving slowly, and listening for the approach of the enemy.
He froze when he sensed movement. On the opposite side of the shelving to his left, a guard was coming in his direction. He could make out the man’s form, moving at some speed towards the scene of the fight. Jurgen stayed still. The guard kept going, unaware he had passed so close to his quarry.
Deciding against risking a confrontation, Jurgen moved more quickly, though still hobbling from the effects of the cudgel strike, towards the centre of the warehouse. He realised that by luck rather than by judgement, he had caused a diversion. The warehouse guards—and he had no real clue how many there were—had followed the sound of his victim’s cry and were searching for him. He might get a window of time in which to get his hands on the weapons.
He heard hissed conversation and followed it, turning one way then the next, before he found his crewmates. Mags turned at his approach. ‘We found them,’ he said.
They stood before a weapons rack that was close to being full—spears, swords, axes, hammers, bow staves, and more. It was just as Stiff had said it would be—a new shipment, waiting to be sold to The Golden Blades.
‘We don’t have much time,’ Jurgen warned them. ‘The guards will be back soon. Put them in your sacks. Leave the spears, they won’t fit.’
Mags and Kacker joined him in stuffing sacks. The big fool seemed unable to do anything quickly, and Mags passed him his bag and began filling a fourth.
‘We need to go,’ Jurgen warned.
‘I’m nearly done.’
Jurgen shrugged. He didn’t care. ‘I’m going out the back way. You go out the front. It’ll confuse ’em.’
‘What?’ Mags said. ‘No way, there’s guards out the front. We’re going out the back.’
He had a point. These fools wouldn’t stand a chance leaving by the front. ‘Alright. I’ll go out the front. You know where the drop off point is?’
‘Of course.’ Mags gave him a curt nod. ‘Good luck.’
Jurgen left. He gave them little to no chance at getting out. But having them clanking about with sacks full of weapons improved his own odds of escaping.
He made his way to the south side of the warehouse, balancing speed with stealth. He didn’t expect to meet any guards here, but with twelve hit points left, he really couldn’t take too many chances.
There was a row of locked doors to choose from at the front entrance. Outside, they’d seen four guards, sheltering by a fire. The wind was howling, so he had little concern they would hear him trying out the keys. He chose his door and then went through the bunch of keys. The sixth one worked and he breathed a bit easier. Nearly there.
A sound from inside the warehouse, and he dropped the keys and took his cleaver in hand. A figure approached him.
‘Oh. It’s you, Kacker. You’re lucky I didn’t gut you, creeping up on me like that.’
Kacker emerged into the dim light that seeped through the doors. Enough light to reveal the sores that covered his face.
‘I knew it would be a good idea to follow you instead of staying with them,’ Kacker said with a grin. His pupils were dilated and his breath stank of blue smoke.
Jurgen eyed the man’s sack. Quite a valuable stash. ‘Not necessarily, Kacker,’ he said, and sank the cleaver into his crewmate.
Kacker’s eyes widened, and Jurgen put a hand over his mouth. ‘See you in Gehenna, Kacker,’ he whispered.
He savoured watching the addict die. There was so little left in life that made him feel something.
***
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Wilson heard a scream, then a loud shout of ‘Mada!’
Mags and Mada emerged from the rear of the warehouse at speed, and the gnome got the impression he might need to intervene. He left his hiding spot at the same time as a guard appeared, chasing after the thieves, and an action round kicked in.
Warehouse Guard
Human
Guard
Action Stats
EXP Level
2
Action Points
3
Hit Points
16
Wilson Turk
Name
Wilson Turk
Nickname
?
Race/Nationality
Gnome
Age
50
Daily Wage
7 pence
Action Stats
EXP Level
3
Action Points
4
Hit Points
20
Core Stats
Might
14
Agility
5
Grit
3
Intellect
10
Skills
Ambidextrous, axe (proficient)
Equipment
Weapons
Hand axe (damage 3-18), Hand axe (damage 3-18)
Armour
Breastplate
Other
Wilson used his action points to run towards the melee.
The guard struck out while the escaping thieves ran from him, giving his attack an advantage.
Mags was hit across the back, a glancing blow that only dealt two damage. Murder was clipped around the ankles. The big man fell to the ground, also taking two damage. The guard successfully landed a third blow on Mags, taking the thief’s hit points down to eleven.
Mags slashed twice with his dagger, but neither strike connected.
Murder was more successful. From his position on the ground, he lashed out with his stick, somehow connecting both times. The guard took four damage in total.
Wilson used his gnomish speed to reach the melee. It cost him two action points, but that left him two more to swing his axes.
His first double strike, perhaps affected by his sprint, missed the target. His next struck the guard, a perfect hit that killed him outright.
The action round ended, but they weren’t necessarily safe. More guards might come for them at any moment.
Wilson and Mags lifted Murder from the ground and they ran north, away from the warehouse, towards the drop-off point.
Wilson looked behind them periodically. His eyes were pretty good in the dark, and he couldn’t see anyone following. ‘Stricken and Kacker?’
‘They went for the south exit. Both were alive when we last saw them.’
They ran down a street of terraced houses. A pink haze surrounded one of the properties—the drop-off point, and safety.
They bundled across the threshold.
‘Mada!’ said Murder in relief.
Wilson inspected their bags. ‘A pretty good haul!’ he exclaimed. ‘But there were guards inside the warehouse?’
‘Aye,’ said Mags. ‘Waiting for us, they were. Someone must have tipped them off that we were coming.’
He gave Wilson a questioning look, and the gnome tried to hide his discomfort. He’d have to tell Stiff that Boris and Rosalind had probably betrayed them.
The door of the house burst open and Stricken dragged himself and a bag of weapons into the house.
‘Kacker?’ Wilson asked.
The Hargon stared at him for a few moments, before shaking his head. ‘Kacker didn’t make it.’
MISSION COMPLETE
SUCCESS: The weapons were stolen
Some of your mercs improved their stats:
Stricken:
Agility +1
Grit +1
Intellect +1
Hit Points +2
Improved skill: Cleaver (expert)
Mags:
Agility +1
Murder:
Agility +1
New skill: Staves (novice)
Some mercs levelled up:
Stricken is now Level 3
Fallen Apples:
Harry ‘Kacker’ Lypt