INQUISITOR KHALI – AFTERLIFE CLUB, MARI-KYE, ASSYRIAN SEA

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10TH CARLISHAE, EARLY SPRING 845 PBM

‘The priest, Madrath, was stretching the truth more than a little. The Afterlife is hardly in the dock district. It is technically near the water, sure. But any closer to the outskirts of the city, and it wouldn’t be part of the city at all. And as for a den, this bar seems to be a cave above the waterline, with, I am guessing, passages leading down through the cliffs to the water below. My guess would be this place is equal parts tavern, and a smugglers’ den.’

‘Become an Inquisitor. See the world!’ she said. My recruiter lied. I hope she has been killed in some horrible mishap.’

Khali pulled her plain, boring, and totally not intimidating thick cloak around her to ward off the rather cold sea breeze and approached the entrance. It was late. Nearly closing time. She wanted as few people here as possible for her first visit.

‘And those that are here, will hopefully be drunk. I would prefer we have no trouble. But there isn’t a lot of peace and tranquility in an Inquisitor’s life, is there? So we prepare for trouble, and at least my agents should be handily placed. Traviston and Janus should already be in the venue. And Ramirez should arrive shortly. Ramirez; always enters last because he cannot be trusted not to drink, womanise or otherwise foul up the plan. There is some saying about blunt instruments which I am sure applies here.’

There were two bouncers at the entrance to the cave. But they looked weary and didn’t pay Khali much attention at all. Inside the cave entrance, there was a decent sized cavern, the floor damp from what seemed to be a mixture of seawater, vomit and blood.

‘Charming place. The entrance of your establishment should allow potential clientele to immediately evaluate the culture and atmosphere you are trying to foster. This one says ‘run away while you still can’. Unless you are a low-life criminal of course. Or an Inquisitor looking for low-life criminals.’

Khali stepped over what she assumed to be an unconscious form. She briefly considered checking to see if she could assist the figure, but decided that would be very strange to anyone watching, and would definitely draw attention to her, so she instead began to carefully wind her way down some rough-cut stone stairs. A flimsy handrail provided some support on one-side, but Khali assumed most people leant more towards the outer stone wall for support. After winding about 10 steps the cavern below came into view. It was more expansive than Khali had anticipated.

There was a wooden dock protruding out into the dark waters from the middle of what seemed to be three split levels. The middle level was the largest and was the one the stairs she was on descended to. It had a large bar that covered one side wall, a motley collection of tables and chairs, many of which seemed to just be upturned cargo crates of varying sizes, and a small clear space for a band and potentially dancing. The band, who had presumably been the entertainment for the night, were just finishing packing up and making their way towards the stairs.

‘The dock would make this a perfect little smuggler’s cove. The five tribes do not strike me as the most law-abiding peoples, so maybe this is just enough out of the way that the authorities do not

care much about what happens here. Or perhaps a fee is paid to look the other way.’

The upper level, which was reached by another flight of stone-cut stairs looked like perhaps it lead to a VIP area, as there was a bouncer at the bottom of the stairs and a thick rope across the bottom of the stairs. As she descended, Khali could see a smattering of people still up there, including what looked to be at least one ‘piranha’, a colloquial name given to a race of vicious, carnivorous scaly humanoids who lived in the sea and generally made a living attacking boats and caravans that were camped near water.

‘Not something you see in a bar everyday. Clearly the clientele here is a little more exotic than most. Madrath did say as much.’

The lower level seemed to be below the waterline, but there seemed to only be small puddles of water on the floor. A rope bridge arrangement linked the bottom level to the middle level, but otherwise there seemed to be nothing else of interest on the bottom level, and there did not seem to be any other exits into other rooms from that level.

‘Perhaps they are awaiting the delivery of more furniture before they set that floor up? Ran out of cargo boxes?’

As she reached the main floor, Khali spotted Traviston, his head freshly shaved to a stubble. He was sitting in a corner table looking very much like a man drowning in his own sorrows, a good sized pile of empty glasses on the table in front of him. She could not see Janus, but that wasn’t all that surprising. Otherwise the occupants of this floor consisted of two barmen, a Korellian and what seemed like a half-orc from the look of the teeth and small tusks protruding from his lips, two serving girls, and about ten patrons, five of whom were gathered around a single table singing ribald drinking songs.

Studying each of them as the wandered towards the bar, she did not see anyone with the dragon markings described by Madrath. Judging by the markings, the most common peoples here were of the Verdenel tribe, judging by the owl and eye style motifs most of them were adorned with.

‘The Verdenel are considered the smartest and wisest of the Korellian tribes. That is an admittedly low bar, but if I were to pick a tribe to assist me in starting up chaos cults everywhere, they would be my choice.’

She was aware that her entrance had not gone unnoticed.

‘I am guessing they don’t get too many women coming here alone. And certainly not this late at night. Probably assume I am some kind of lady of the night, or that I am mad.’

“A whiskey please, barkeep,” she called as she reached the bar. The bar itself was on a separate piece of stone to the rest of the floor, and there was a gap of about an inch between the two.

‘Must be fun when you drop coins or a gem through that gap while drunk. Maybe that is what the bottom floor is for.’

The nearest barman, the half-orc, slowly made his way to prepare the order. As he came back with the half-filled glass another man stepped beside her and waved the barman off.

“This one is on the house,” he said in the native tongue of the five tribes. It was similar to common, enough that Khali understood what he said, but she did not wish to converse in his language. He had a scar that ran across his left eye, and the eye within was white.

“How kind,” she replied warmly in common, doing her best to look kindly at the muscled and weathered barbarian standing next to her.

‘Janus makes this look easy. A smile, flutter the eyes, perhaps flash some skin, and she has men eating out of her hand. Why can I not do the same? Sincerity? That can’t be the issue. She hates men more than I do.’

“It is pretty late for a pretty girl like you to come in. Where have you been?” he asked in heavily accented common.

“I am new to town. I guess you could say I have a tendency to go looking for trouble, and for troublesome men.” Khali reached up and lightly felt the muscles in his right arm as she said the second part.

“Huh. Well you have come to the right place if you want a real man. But I must warn you, we do not pay for our women,” he warned. “And we are used to getting what we want.”

“What a coincidence. Me too!” replied Khali.

It seemed One-Eye was trying to decipher if what she had said was good or bad, when Khali saw Janus coming down the stairs from the VIP area with a dragon-tattooed man, and Ramirez coming down the stairs from the cave entrance. Janus seemed to be whispering something into the Dragon-Tattooed man’s ear, and pointing roughly in Khali’s direction.

Janus was dressed in tight-fitting clothing which clung to her alluring figure, and while her natural hair she kept extremely short, Janus had a wig for any occasion, and this night it was a short dark-haired style, with extra length at the back. Like nearly every hair style, it suited her. Ramirez was wearing his full suit of white platemail, thankfully minus any Inquisition identifying tabards or heraldry, and his massive sword was strapped to his back. To say he looked like a man out of place was a massive understatement.

‘Janus is very good at this! Ramirez really isn’t. Hopefully he just stays out of the way unless we need him.’

Janus guided Dragon-Tattoo towards where Khali was now sitting on a bar-stool. Khali picked up her whiskey as they approached.

“Your friend tells me you are new to town and want to have a good time?” said Dragon-Tattoo. “I am Hemas’tan, son of Urungi, and I am pretty much the gate-keeper to good times in this place.”

‘Ok. Subject found. No dead bodies yet’.

Khali began to take a sip from her whiskey to buy some time to think of a witty response, when Ramirez lunged forwards and knocked the drink from her hand, smashing the glass into the floor, and whiskey all over One-Eye’s legs.

“They are trying to poison you, Inquisitor.” Ramirez exclaimed, certainly loud enough for those nearby to hear, and maybe those further away as well. “I got a tip off from someone upstairs.”

What the #@&*?!

Everything seemed to stop, as everyone’s minds raced to process what all this sudden new information meant. As usually happened, the quickest to act were either the very fast, or the very simple.

Khali stood as she dropped the illusion that was concealing her appearance, her Inquisitor’s robes, armour and weapons coming clearly into view. She drew her sword and grabbed for Hemas’tan’s tunic, meaning to pull him closer.

Ramirez, unburdened at trying to puzzle anything out, simply drew his sword and swung it at One-Eye. In One-Eye’s defence, the blade did come at him from his blind-side, but he had barely begun to react before the blade smashed into his skull, connecting at an upward angle from his jaw. His body spun and flew through the air, and he was dead before he hit the ground.

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Hemas’tan knocked Khali’s hand aside and started to back towards the stairs, fumbling for the hand axe hanging from his belt. Khali moved after him.

From the stairs leading down from the entrance, the familiar voice of the priest, Madrath yelled, “The Verdenel are trying to kill Hemas’tan!” The volume and clarity of the screamed words was incredibly clear inside the otherwise quite echoey cavern.

‘What’s the damn priest doing here?! No prizes for guessing who tipped Sir Idiot into knocking the drink from my hand. Now he is using magick to make sure everyone across all three levels heard the attack was the Verdenel. But why? I bet I don’t like the answer.’

And then the chaos started.

Everyone was either standing and/or drawing weapons. The bouncer at the top of the stairs to the VIP area fired a crossbow into the closest member of the Verdenel group downstairs. The bouncer next to the stairs at the bottom of the VIP area moved to protect Hemas’tan. Janus swept Hemas’tan’s legs out from under him and he went crashing to the floor. Three barbarians, probably all Varkonen, moved from where they had been drinking on the main level to also protect Hemas’tan. Other people from the VIP section started coming down the stairs, including several five tribes barbarians, and at least two of the piranhas.

Ramirez kept hitting things, smashing the downstairs bouncer, and knocking him over the small railing and causing him to fall the twenty feet down to the bottom tier. Ramirez was laughing heartily and by all appearances, having a jolly old time. Khali engaged the nearest incoming Varkonen, and parried his axe swing before punching the hilt of her sword into his face and staggering him backwards.

‘I will try once to avoid killing you. Come back at me again, and what happens next is on you.’

Traviston had not yet moved.

There was a loud cracking and grinding sound, and the entire middle floor section of Afterlife began to shake. The floor started to rotate and angle itself in such a way as to tilt downwards towards the lower level. Khali watched as the angle of tilt started to increase, and the cheap crate-based furniture started to slide across the floor towards the third level, which now looked more and more like a pit.

‘That explains the disposable furniture. Is that running water?’

Khali stole a glance down towards the bottom level, and could see water spilling in from somewhere, rapidly flooding that entire level.

‘This is a hell of a way to get rid of customers at closing time.’

Around her people started looking for things they could hold onto, but it was clear everyone was too far from the bar or either set of stairs to hold onto anything that wasn’t also moving. The rate of sliding towards the pit accelerated as the angle of the stone increased. The three piranhas on the stairs now freely jumped in, with spears, and what seemed like nets, strapped to their bodies.

‘That could be a problem. OK, time to go down swinging.’

Khali started to focus and channel a prayer to her God, beseeching him to grant her the gift of exploding flame.

“As he had promised, Faylen brought wrath on those that had broken his covenant.

And his flames burned…”

Her prayer was disrupted when a large crate smashed into her from behind, and knocked her from her feet. She helplessly began to slide. She watched in amazement as Traviston used his sliding table as a step and jumped for the wall, and then began to free climb up towards the top level. The rest of the occupants of the mid-level were not so fortunate, and all now slid down the steeply slanted stone section. People tried to grab on anything – tables, chairs, each other, or the edge of the platform, but none would stop the inevitable. Everyone fell into what was already three foot of water, and the water was rising very quickly.

Khali found her footing as quickly as possible and stood. As her head breached the water she started cataloguing the issues facing her and her team.

‘If the water keeps rising very soon we will all be underwater. Bad for anyone not a piranha. But worst for Ramirez and I in heavy plate armour. We will not be floating anytime soon. If there are enemies with ranged weapons above us, then we will just be target practice. And the piranhas will be lethal as the water rises, and are clearly ready to attack. But they are holding back, as if they are waiting for something. The water level to rise?’

“Welcome to thee Afterlife lagoon!” boomed a deep accented voice from the upper level. “I’m ya host this evenin’, Kezzimeir Stonehammer. It seems ye misunderstood thee rules of the club and decided that fightin’, and killin’, could happen in some way other than by me choosin’.”

Khali looked up to see a colourfully dressed dwarf with a thick red beard standing at the top of the stairs. He had a large blue hat upon his head, a motley collection of rings and chains adorning his ears, nose, fingers and neck, and a large falchion held in his right hand, which he was beating flatside first into his other hand as spoke. His voice was easily carrying across the entire chamber, suggesting a man used to yelling orders and being heard.

‘Dwarves? Explains the fancy stonework.’

Conscious that the rope bridge to this level was being rapidly pulled out of reach, and that water was still filling up the level, she began to push a few of the largest boxes together.

‘No idea if this will work, but I need something I can climb onto. I can see Janus is doing something similar. Ramirez and most of everyone else is captivated by the speaker above. Can’t see Hemas’tan. Nothing I can do about that right now.’

“To help remind ya of this fact, ye will now fight for me entertainment, and that of me guests,” explained Kezzimeir. “Once we are amused to our fill, I will call a halt to da fightin’, and I’ll let ya’s all out. Got it?”

Khali nudged the box formation with her armoured leg. It moved far more easily than she would have liked. Around her the others were all starting to stare at each other warily.

‘It seems like we have three factions down here: Varkonen, Verdenal, and the Inquisition. I need a stronger foundation for my heroic stand. This isn’t the intended use of this prayer, but maybe Faylen is feeling generous today.’

She touched the box formation in front of her and began to cast a prayer.

“The gallant knight, Sir Etherton, held the line against impossible odds at the Kyover Pass.

And with the blessings of his Lord, there was naught that could move him.”

‘That is intended to make a warrior more resolute, and harder to knock back or dislodge, but fingers crossed it can do the same to a wooden box.’

The Verdenel and Varkonnen were beginning to fight, barbarians from both sides swinging at each other in earnest. Ramirez needed no encouragement, and he too was swinging his blade with enthusiasm, in this case at the nearest Varkonen.

‘With the water now at four feet deep, combat is going to quickly become farcical. Unless, perhaps you control the higher ground.’

Khali climbed onto the lowest point of her box formation. She was pleased to discover it seemed much more rigid and steady than before. Janus had pushed her boxes together with Khali’s and was climbing up from the other side.

In the ever deepening water, the Varkonen were struggling. The one nearest to Ramirez was now floating face first in a rapidly darkening patch of water. The remaining two were now badly outnumbered by Ramirez and the three remaining Verdenel. The piranhas were crouching quite sure-footedly on crates, with their nets twirling above their heads. Apparently deciding they had seen enough, they now threw the nets nearly in unison, and all of the Verdenel were enveloped by the heavily weighted ropes. The nearest Varkonen was also ensnared, but it didn’t seem like that bothered the toothy-mawed fish-men much.

Ramirez swung his massive sword in a head-height slash at the last Varkonen. His target ducked beneath the water and then tried to dive away. The piranha jumped into the water, which was now over their heads, and began to spear mercilessly at the people in the nets. Again, the differentiation between Varkonnen and Verdenel did not seem to matter when deciding who to jab their spear into.

“Got a prayer to turn the water to ice?” asked Janus hopefully.

“Sun God! Doesn’t exactly scream dominion over water does it?” Khali snapped back, as she tried to think of a solution to their predicament.

“Well then… if we die here. Thanks for rescuing me from my life of filth, and letting me kill a heap of scumbags before I kicked it,” declared Janus.

“We are not dying in some stupid pond, killed by smugglers and overgrown goldfish,” asserted Khali. “We need to lure the fish-men up here. We cannot fight them underwater.”

Case in point, one of the piranhas was now trying to spear Ramirez, who had seconds ago had the water level rise above his head. The big knight was finally trying to make his way to higher ground, meanwhile the piranha was unsuccessfully trying to stab him through his heavy plate armour.

‘I have to end this, or Ramirez and everyone in the nets dies. Why doesn’t Faylen have dominion over Lightning? That could be really useful right now. I need someway to fight underwater without drowning. That’s it.’

“Mickael lay helplessly wounded before the demon.

He prayed for the Lord of Light to fight for him.

And the Lord did grant him Sol Gladium, the flaming sword.”

As the prayer’s magickal energies reached their zenith, Khali shaped the combination of Holy and Fire energies into the flaming sword, Sol Gladium, and then threw the sword into the water. Sol Gladium was the flaming sword of Faylen. Nothing on Driax could extinguish it, and when cast with this prayer, the sword could be directed towards the priest’s foes and it would attack all on its own, without the need for a wielder. The only requirement was for the priest to maintain a portion of her concentration on controlling the blade.

Khali did that now, and directed the blade towards the piranha spearing Ramirez. The water was steaming all around the sword as the water tried its natural best to smother the flame which had been thrust into its midst. But this was no normal flame. This was holy fire, and it would not be extinguished.

The blade flew under-water at the same speed it did in the air, which was considerably faster than Ramirez was moving. It impaled the piranha through the back. Ramirez stumbled the rest of the way to the boxes and tried to climb on, but between his wounds, the heavy weight of his armour, and his lack of oxygen, he did not have the reserves left to achieve it. He fell back off the box and sunk beneath the water.

The last two piranha were now swimming away from the steam generating object in the water, and towards the box tower Janus and Khali were standing on. They slid onto the boxes in much the same way that seals do. Seals are not usually met by armed opponents.

‘You were merciless to those in the water. Now I return the favour.’

Before the piranha nearest her could recover its footing, Khali drove her sword down into its torso, pinning its soon-to-be corpse to the crate. Janus had pulled a pair of daggers from somewhere, and dispatched the final piranha in similarly merciless fashion.

There was commotion in the VIP area above. Khali looked up.

‘Please don’t be a dwarf ordering a line of crossbows to open fire.’ She began the first line in a prayer that might protect her if that were the case.

“Release thee water,” came the strained voice of Kezzimeir. He was now backed into a corner, with Traviston crouched behind him, and one of Traviston’s knives at his throat. Khali could see Traviston whispering into the dwarves ear.

“We can take him. He can’t get us all,” called somebody from the upper level.

“That is true. But I promise you Kezzimeir will know the judgement of the Lord of Light before you get me,” replied Traviston solemnly.

“He’s right. Drop ya weapons. And I said release thee damn water!” barked Kezzimeir. Khali heard some kind of mechanism activate. She could hear gears grinding again and was aware the water level was now starting to recede.

Above, she saw one of Kezzimeir’s men with a crossbow considering risking the shot. And for the time being at least, nobody was paying much attention to those below.

‘It is time for Law-Bringer.’ She began one of her favourite prayers.

“The Lord of Light said to the Inquisition you will be my weapons.

Go forth from the light and into the darkness.

And when you have need of your bow, sword, stake or mace,

Call for it and it shall be there.”

Inquisitors often fought the most magickal and powerful creatures. Many of those had magickal resistances which required specialist weapons to destroy them. This spell allowed an Inquisitor to summon to her hand any weapon from her arsenal, ensuring she would have the right tool for the job. The last line of the prayer chose the weapon.

“I call for Law-Bringer!” As Khali stretched out her right arm and pointed it upwards, there was a brief flash of light and her blessed crossbow appeared in her hand, loaded and ready to fire, just as she had left it when she carefully laid out all her weapons earlier that night.

The head on the crossbow bolt burst into flames as she pulled the trigger.

‘Fly true, my flaming spear of righteous judgement.’

The bolt slammed into the upper back of the man with the crossbow, and he crumpled to the ground. But as he fell, he pulled the trigger.

The crossbow went off and the bolt flew towards his intended target.

And slammed into Kezzimeir.

‘How unfortunate. Karma’s a bitch’

The dwarf screamed in rage and pain as the bolt hit his right shoulder. Fortunately dwarves are tough enough to survive such a blow. They could survive many wounds which would kill a human. They could not survive having their neck sliced open though, and Kezzimeir knew it.

“Ya damn idiots. Drop ya weapons right now, or I swear when I get out of this, I’ll skin ya alive meself. They aren’t here for us!”

Reluctantly the clientele of the Afterlife complied, and everyone dropped or put away their weapons.