As the brilliant starry night faded into the crisp air of morning, the forgotten break room nestled deep in the library archives found itself once more filled with the bustle of murmuring conversations, appearing to the untrained eye to be filled with the amicable gossip of longtime coworkers. However, as with all things in life, the situation is not quite as simple. A quick peek past the scratched wooden doorframe would instead reveal a rather odd group of coworkers. To the left of the door, settled snugly on one of the fondly dubbed ‘Frankenstein chairs’ that can be found scattered around the archives, a gray-skinned demon studiously reads through a borrowed magazine on weapons maintenance, her ears twitching as she half-watches a grinning half-elf in the center of the room excitedly gesturing at a chalkboard haphazardly propped against a sink. Further to the left, the heroic figure of a muscular demon sits on yet another Frankenstein chair, his head propped on his left hand in thought as his right hand absentmindedly traces a faint mark on his forehead.
On the other side of the room, more towards the right, a different scene presents itself. Near the door and appearing to be more interested in the lighting of a hand rolled cigarette, a tattooed dwarf stares off into space in resigned boredom. Finally, residing on the only couch in the break room, a swirling mass of rats convened loosely in the shape of a larger rat keeps several eyes on the half-elf’s presentation, and several more eyes on the lean, yet muscular demon occupying the arm of the couch, hand resting discreetly on the pommel of his sheathed scimitar.
“Okay people, thank you all for finding time within your busy days of hiding in the archives, making intruders disappear, or doing whatever gangsters and ruffians do on their days off in order to make it to this strategy meeting.” Tim gave a half bow towards the assembled group. “Thanks to the efforts of our four-legged allies, brought to you by his majesty the Rat King, we have a decent idea of what’s going on in the city. So, if anyone has questions, feel free to raise your hand, but if not I’ll get on with it.”
Tim looked around eagerly, but with no hands raising in the air, he launched back into his speech. “As of a day ago, we got our first major win. The death of Kevin. That’s one hero down out of the three known heroes. Speaking of which, congratulations everyone for making my plan a success. The arrogant bastard didn’t even suspect a thing.” Tim clapped his hands cheerfully while the others paused, unsure if he meant them to applaud. Evidently not, as he continued. “Unfortunately, it’s probably going to get a bit more difficult from now on. Reports from the network of rats under the Rat King tell us that Adrian is on the move, while Elena has apparently holed herself up in one of her properties in the town.”
At this, Mavier cleared his throat, prompting Tim to nod at him with a questioning glance. “So what now? Should we go after Elena? I did manage to wound her in our last clash. With that cleric still missing her shield arm, we might be able to finish her off before anyone can call for help if we conduct a coordinated ambush. She’s vulnerable right now, and it’s quite obvious that her missing shield arm still throws her off in a fight.”
“That’s a tempting idea, Mavier,” Tim acknowledged, “but she still has some soldiers from the Bastille with some loyalty to her that have been seen guarding her house. They may be ordinary humans, but those men are still trained soldiers. Reports indicate that they were instrumental in Elena surviving the forest fire we set, so the best-case scenario is those soldiers are a bunch of resourceful bastards. Worst-case scenario? They might be skilled enough to hold off your followers, Mavier, and even call for help. Obviously, if that happens, the guard will be moving under our command, but there are still groups of government soldiers stationed around the city that we haven’t been fortunate enough to take over yet. Plus, in that situation, Adrian is too much of a wildcard.”
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Tim massaged his forehead and sighed. “And that brings us to the problem child. Adrian. We know from the publicly available records from the exploits of the heroes that the cleric Elena prefers to take the front line. She prefers to fight with a longsword and shield, prioritizing her magic for buffing herself to be stronger and faster. She loves to fight and is a straightforward opponent, something that Mavier,” Tim nodded at the demon with respect in his eyes, “has exploited in the past. Furthermore, after the latest battle, we know that she hasn’t quite adapted to not fighting with a shield, or a left arm in general, and that her temper has only gotten worse. On the other hand, we know that the wizard Kevin, while having little issue with fighting on the front lines, preferred spellcasting over any other weapons, with a focus on lightning magic. He was a bit more cautious than Elena, preferring to live it up in his city mansion. However, he did possess a certain… arrogance. One that led him to pursue a dangerous enemy into a building that he knew little about. One that led him to his death.”
Tim paused to take a breath, shaking his stiff hand out after writing down the key parts of his lecture on the chalkboard.
“And that, brings us to Adrian. There is less known about him by the public, but thanks to a magical book made by possibly the greatest historian and temporal magician in existence, that isn’t as much of an issue. We know he’s the youngest out of the three heroes that stayed active out of the original group of five. A teenager, probably not even in his 20s. However, don’t let this fool you. I took a look at his doings in that magical book I mentioned, and he might actually be the most vicious one out of the bunch. I’m talking numerous murders and massacres. The bane of the city, and the bane of those poor bastards in the courts who have to keep his shit covered up. Still, since he has started to openly move after the death of Kevin, we know he has at least some attachment to his comrades. As for his fighting style, this one was a bit trickier to pin down. He definitely loves his knives, but also has used mixtures of buffing magic and regular combat magic in his recorded fights as well. My guess is that he’s more of an all-rounder, but we won’t know for certain until we actually pressure him in a fight ourselves. I just don’t know enough about fighting to say something definite without a second opinion.” Tim coughed and tapped the half-filled chalkboard with his empty hand. “That’s what we know. Now, we need to find out something to do about these bastards, so put your thinking caps on.”
At those words the room broke out in conversation, some productive, some not, while a dwarf near the doorway lightly snored in his chair.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“Is this all you fuckers found with the headless corpse?” Adrian gestured toward a cloth bag a fearful messenger was holding outwards like a peace offering.
“Yes my lord! This lowly one spoke with the soldiers that serve Lady Elena! They were only able to do a quick search of the rubble before a terrible fire swept through the forest. They hoped that Lord Adrian could make sense of it!”
“Really now… well, good work in bringing this to me, oh lowly one,” Adrian muttered through a disgustingly twisted grin. “I think you deserve a reward.”
The messenger fought to keep the hopeful smile off his lips at the thought of a reward, doing his best to ignore the almost sickeningly fresh feeling of air blowing on his skin. Doing his best to ignore the strange way the fresh air began to beat harder and harder onto his stomach. Doing his best to ignore the odd sight of his vision involuntarily sliding downwards to the right…
Adrian casually stepped over the corpse of the man he had torn in two with his wind magic. He bounced the cloth bag up and down in his left hand, listening to the muffled clatter of tin coming from within the bag, until finally a single tin canister found itself free of the cloth bag, sliding quickly into Adrian’s right hand.
Mr. half-elf. Why, oh why would you need these tin containers? Ahh... it really is going to be a long night.
Adrian slung the cloth bag over his shoulders, tossing the tin can up and down with his free hand as his other hand tapped the handle of his sheathed knife to the soundless beat of a tune not known to this world.