The tall, silver-haired woman looked down at Harlan from the top of the back stairs of the brothel. Her meticulous and elegant appearance gave her an air of unwavering authority.
“Quite frankly, Sheriff, I am offended that you thought you could bribe me with these... pickings,” said Madam Seins in her haughty voice, turning her nose up as she nibbled on one of the Blackwater snacks. “You should know I do not discuss my business, nor who may or may not enjoy the facilities of my establishment.”
“Petra, please, this is important.”
“It always is. But if I make an exception this time, you’ll expect it the next time something ‘important’ comes up. Soon, my patrons will no longer trust my discretion, which would be a disaster for my business.”
“This is a life or death situation, Petra. The information could make all the difference.”
Harlan, hun, you already cashed in a very big favor. Unless you have a warrant or plan on arresting me and my employees, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Petra stepped aside slightly as she said that, revealing Igor, the gigantic bouncer of the brothel, seated inside. He was reading a book that looked comically small in his massive hands. Every time Harlan saw Igor, he couldn’t help but think of him as a suit painted on a boulder, with another smaller boulder on top for a head. Having seen the man in action, Harlan knew it would be like trying to fight an actual boulder. So, he chose a tactical retreat.
“Well, that was a bust,” muttered Harlan to the foxes as they slinked in the shadows behind the buildings that made up Blackwater’s main street. “Hopefully Garrett can tell us something.”
They found the blacksmith at his forge, hammering out what looked to be hundreds of nails. With the town’s rapid expansion, the demand for building supplies was unsurprising..
“Mornin’, Sheriff. What can I do ya for?” said Garrett, the concerningly hirsute blacksmith, his voice rising above the ringing of his hammer on the anvil.
Harlan stifled a gag as the smell of burning hair filled his nose, making his eyes water. “Uh, just wanted to ask about some work you might have done recently. Specifically, a net made of chain.”
“Ah, yeah, that was a fiddly one. Got the order through the mail so it’d be ready for pickup when the customer arrived.”
“Okay, and who exactly was the customer?”
“Ah, couldn’t tell ya. The main fella didn’t say much. He had some other blokes drop off the metal and do the heavy lifting, but they mostly just complained.”
Harlan glanced around the blacksmith’s shop, puzzled. “Why did they bring the metal? It looks like you’ve got plenty here.”
“Usually, you’d be right. But this lot wanted it made out of something a bit exotic. Here, take a look at this.” Garrett finished the nail he was working on, then walked to another bench and picked up what looked like a regular iron ingot. “Now, this looks like plain ol’ iron, but there’s something odd about it.” He passed the ingot about a foot over some nails, causing them to leap off the bench and stick to the iron bar. “Not only that, but I had to use a regular coal fire to work with it. The stuff was messing with my fire crystal forge—stopped it from heating or cooling properly.”
“Where would someone get iron like that from?”
“There’s an old iron mine in the hills. Supposed to be closed, but those fellas came back covered in rust. That’s the only place I can think of.”
“Do you think you could give me some directions?”
“I’ll do better than that. You can have a map.” Garrett limped to his counter, pulled out a map of the area marked with mining spots, and handed it to Harlan. “I sell these to folks lookin’ for magic crystals—easy money.” The blacksmith marked a spot on the map before handing it over.
“Much appreciated, Garrett. I owe you one,” said Harlan as he headed out behind the shop where the foxes and Pudding were waiting. “Looks like we’re heading back into the hills, gentlemen—and lady,” Harlan added, scratching Cindy under the chin. “Although, I have a feeling we might be walking into trouble, so I’m picking up my long gun first. Also, how do I pull up those floating words again?
Ignivora let out a small yip and the information appeared in front of Harlan again
"Ding. Harlan Landry. Level 6. Beast Master."
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Strength: 4
Speed: 3
Intelligence: 6
Endurance: 6
Charisma: 6
Spells:
[Fire Immunity]: Passive
[Heat Pack]
[Breath of Fire II]: Cast a stream of fire extending (n) feet. Where (n) = intelligence.
Skills:
[Senses of the fox]
“Well, would you look at that. I got one point faster. Still feels a bit disrespectful though,” Harlan grumbled. “Now, there are a couple things I want to try out if you’ll help me.”
After a bit of trial and error with his spells, Harlan was satisfied. He swung by the station to grab his rifle and check that Cole still had things under control. Then, he headed out of town, meeting Ignivora and Frank just before Maggie’s farm.
They filled Frank in on what they had learned, and they started to make their way towards the iron mine. Once again they headed back up into the hills, until they found themselves at the clearing that turned off towards the dead end. But rather than turning left through the forest, they continued on straight, down a winding path that wrapped around the outside of a particularly large hill.
As he looked up, Harlan noticed the top of a very large single tree peeking out from the summit of the hill. After a second, he realized that he was looking at the tree that they had been camping under and that they were heading to the base of the hill that the dead end was located on top of.
Continuing down the path they eventually found themselves at the base off the hill on a flat open plain, which Harlan did not appreciate as the lack of cover made him feel extremely exposed given that they were on a potentially dangerous manhunt.
Dismounting Pudding and taking his rifle in his hands, Harlan stayed as close to the foot of the hill as he could. Working their way around the hill in a counterclockwise direction, they kept their senses sharp as the map indicated they were getting close to the entrance to the mine.
Ignivora stopped and went on alert, sinking down towards the ground while his flames dimmed and he let out a low growl. Harlan dropped to a knee and put his hand up, signaling the others to stop as well. As he concentrated, he was able to make out distant voices, although he wasn’t sure from where exactly.
“Can you tell where they are, Iggy?” he asked. A series of soft yips gave him his answer. Crouching low, Harlan moved to get a view of the mine entrance, nestled between two shoulders of the hill—what he mentally dubbed the “armpit.”
Outside the mine, a small camp had been established. A couple of sturdy looking tents, several carriages, and what appeared to be a smelting furnace. Harlan took a second to observe and collect information before returning to the others and laying out his plan.
Harlan casually strolled into view of the camp. Two men were eating lunch near a smoldering fire, while another snoozed nearby. A fourth man worked the furnace.
The two men eating their lunch watched as Harlan approached, between laziness and confusion they didn’t react until he had gotten within 10 feet of them, and even then it was a subdued reaction.
“Uhh hey, I don’t think you’re supposed to be here” Said the man eating beans, who Harlan decided to call beans.
“Yeah, we’re not expecting anyone until later today. Who are you?” Asked the man eating jerky
“Well, gentlemen, I’m the sheriff of Blackwater. This area falls under my jurisdiction so I am supposed to be here if I deem it. Now all I’m wanting is to ask a few questions” Said Harlan, who continued to slowly approach with his hands raised.
“Hey, Eddy, wake your ass up.” said Beans as he threw a rock at the sleeping man who startled and snorted awake. Raising his hat, Eddy looked at Harlan for a few seconds. His brain struggling to get up to speed with the situation
“H…Hey.. You’re not supposed to be here” Shouted Eddy, leaping to his feet and drawing his gun.
A few beats later, Beans and Jerky realized they should probably do the same. They lurched to their feet and pointed their guns at Harlan as well.
“Now, lads, do you really want to go killing a sheriff? That's the death penalty” ssaid Harlan, closing the distance and forcing them to cluster together.
“No one will find you all the way out here, old timer” sneered Eddy
“My deputies know where I am” lied Harlan
Eddy hesitated for a second “No witnesses and we’ll make damn sure there’s no body. They’ll have nothing to go on”
“This is seeming unnecessarily hostile. I just wanted to ask some questions” replied Harlan
“Well maybe you should have questioned if coming out here alone was a good idea” added Beans
“Well, Beans, I see you’re the witty one of the group. But I never said I came alone”
“Who the hell is Beans?” said Beans.
Before the situation could escalate, the man working the furnace screamed. The group spun to see Ignivora, gripping the man’s leg, bashing him against the ground like a rag doll.
“What the hell?!” shouted Eddy, aiming at the fox. “Kill that thing!”
“Shouldn’t turn your back on me, gentlemen” Harlan said softly
The men hesitated, unsure whether to shoot Ignivora or Harlan. Finally, Eddy aimed at Harlan.
“Fire” Harlan whispered.
A stream of flame erupted from Harlan’s mouth, engulfing the men. Their screams echoed through the hills. Two more men emerged from the tents, only to be greeted by the sight of their burning companions. Ignivora charged, turning one of them into a pink mist. The last man stood frozen in terror before collapsing, transfixed by the vaporized blood
“Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned,” said Harlan, walking over. “Good news: I’m up to level 8. Bad news: I don’t think we’ll be getting much information out of this poor bastard.”
The last man sat on the ground staring at the blood droplets on his hands muttering “drippy, drippy, little rain, down you go into the drain. Some to drink and some to clean, some will go into the stream. drippy, drippy, little rain, down you go into the drain.”
“Hm, I think you broke him, Iggy.” Harlan clicked his fingers in front of the man’s face, but got no response. “Yep, definitely broken. But, given their less-than-friendly reception, I’d say we’re in the right place. Let’s check those tents.”