10. Gang War

We crept along empty, decrepit streets, keeping our eyes peeled for, well, anything. Eventually, we saw a few shutters slam shut as we passed some houses, so we knew that the apocalypse hadn’t wiped the Slums clean, at the very least.

“Gang war,” Pyro guessed.

“Tournament.”

“Hero summoning.”

“Dragon egg bestowal.”

“Giant snake.”

“Rare class unlocked.”

“A cart full of loot overturned.”

“Auction,” Thwain guessed.

“Who would waste time on an auction?” Pyro asked.

“Everyone likes an auction!” Thwain argued.

“Nobody wants to listen to a bunch of old guys bid on desks.”

“What if they’re bidding on a powerful artifact?”

“Why would they have a powerful artifact? Why would they SELL a powerful artifact? They should just use it and get richer! Anyone who’s selling powerful artifacts doesn’t need the money,” Pyro said.

The two went back and forth the entire time. We walked right out of the city, trying to figure out what we were missing, but decided that sneaking wasn’t going to help. As we walked under what passed for the main gate, we got our first real hint. Down the hill, on the banks of the river of sludge where I had found the Awakening stones in the back of a ditched cart, was a standoff between two groups surrounded by a massive crowd.

“Gang war,” Pyro said, pumping a fist discreetly.

“Which ones?” I asked. “Any clue? Are those… Blood Oats?”

We looked down at the two forces. One was a group of people dressed in reds and whites, most of them holding jagged weapons or guns. The other group was dressed all in black, knives glinting in the bright afternoon sun. The crowd was dressed in a mix of colors, though most of them were in the unaffiliated browns and dirt stains of common folk.

“Blood Oats and the Thieves Guild?” Pyro guessed.

“Blood Oats and the Sons of Blades,” Thwain said. “See the one in the back with the hood?” Indeed, there was a hooded figure robed in black in the back of the Sons of Blades group that had a sort of tabard on. It was hard to see, but I was pretty sure it looked vaguely like a fan of knives, like the symbol of the Sons of Blades.

“Not really,” Pyro said with a chuckle. “I don’t see shit from here.”

“Shall we?” I asked, gesturing to the crowd below.

“Maybe not get too close,” Thwain said, nodding his head anyway.

We moseyed down to get a better look at what was going on with the standoff without getting too close to the action. Both sides were gesturing and shouting, but there were too many voices, so we didn’t pick up much.

“Blood Oats are being accused of stealing… Something,” Thwain said, turning his head to point an ear at the arguing gangs.

I just shot a deadpan look at Thwain until he noticed my stare. His mouth formed an O, then he went back to listening to the fighting, a slight grin on his face.

“The, uh, the Sons of Blades are saying… Blood Oats have been showing weird skills lately, they think it’s got something to do with a stolen shipment. Blood Oats are denying, saying they’re getting gifts from a patron,” Thwain relayed.

“Demonic. Influence,” Pyro said in a clipped tone.

“Tower Guides?” I asked.

Pyro shook his head. “Blood sacrifices to keep demons around. Pacts with demons. Demons grant powers. Easy leap in logic,” he said matter-of-factly. Thwain just shook his head.

“We doing anything about it?” I asked, nodding at the growing tension down by the river.

“Can we?” Thwain asked.

I shrugged. “A gang war could be what we need right now. Relieve some pressure off of us, put some onto them,” I said.

“I’m down with anything that fucks with the Boats,” Pyro said.

“Boats?” I asked. “Really?”

“Well,” Pyro chuffed, “Close enough.”

“Back to the question at hand,” Thwain said. “How do we cause a… A party?”

“You mean a--”

“A party,” Thwain cut Pyro off, looking at him sharply. Pyro grinned and nodded.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“A party,” the Geomancer agreed.

I looked around. The main city sat on a hill overlooking the river. A road ran from the city, crossing the river with my favorite, horribly rickety bridge, and into the forest. I looked across the river at the treeline. There were far more trees on that side.

“Hey boys,” I said, “let’s go for a walk.” They looked at me sideways a bit, but followed nonetheless.

We ambled down the road and crossed my favorite shitty bridge, following the road into the forest and around a bend. Once the entire debacle was out of sight, I veered a hard left into the forest.

“Ok, spill,” Pyro said impatiently.

“Look, we need to start something,” I said. “Best way I can see is by doing it from across the water. Nobody’s blocking our line of sight from that side.”

“Yeah,” Thwain said, “but that’ll also make us incredibly easy to see.”

I grinned a wicked grin. “They won’t see us if we’re underground.”

We circled back to the river through the forest. Once the trees were becoming too thin for cover, I gestured to Pyro. He made us a small tunnel, barely wide enough for us to shuffle into on our stomachs. We scooted down the tunnel until we got to the riverbank. Then, Pyro widened the tunnel slightly so that we had more room to maneuver. We crawled, one behind the other, down the hill. Pyro opened eye holes every once in a while through the dirt to check our progress. Once we were close enough, Pyro stopped and took a break, carving into our rations.

When he was feeling a little more rested, Pyro created a small room that we could just barely sit in, along with a convenient little murder hole for Thwain. The Gunner waited for the arguing to hit a particularly loud crescendo, then… BANG! Thwain shot one of the Sons of Blades members off to the side of the crowd.

My ears rang as the gunshot echoed within our little chamber. I had just enough time to see both sides clash before Pyro reached over and closed the hole, just in case. No use tempting fate. My stomach hitched uncontrollably as I tried to contain my laughter. Just picturing the carnage was enough to bring me tears of joy. The Blood Oats were bastards, as far as I was concerned. It served them right to get a little backlash and get in a whole lot of trouble.

We stayed in our little cave for a bit, not wanting to be spotted. After the battle had raged on for a bit, Pyro chimed in.

“Should we get the crowd involved?”

I shrugged noncommittally, but Thwain shook his head. “Not worth it,” he said. “Individuals joining in won’t help us in the long run. We need big conflicts to shake up the Slums, not just randoms dying. If I could spot another member of a prominent gang, then I’d say we go for it. Otherwise…” He shook his head again.

We discussed what to do next. Thwain wanted to capitalize on the chaos to farm the first floor more extensively. Pyro wanted to scope out some Blood Oats territories to see if we could dig up some valuables or find some incriminating evidence of demonic origins.

“What if we ask the Rising Tides to help?” I asked.

“Why would they ever help?” Thwain asked.

“Well, they aren’t really helping us,” I said. “But with the two gangs out there warring, maybe we could propose a sort of raid, where we help them attack an enemy gang’s position. They’re already mobilizing. It should be easy enough to pick off the skeleton crew that stays behind.”

After a bit more deliberation, they agreed. We scooted out of our tunnel and headed into the city proper, avoiding the all-out gang war that spanned most of the river bank, and made our way to the headquarters of the Rising Tides. It was, unsurprisingly, at the docks on the far side of the city. It took us a while to get there, but T the Tank was waiting for us outside when we arrived.

“Heard we were having visitors, but I didn’t expect them to be my business partners,” he said with a broad smile. “Pray tell, my dearies, what brings you over?” He rubbed his hands and licked his lips in anticipation. We explained to him the plan. He laughed uproariously.

“I knew that there were tensions, but to think that it actually came to this…” He trailed off, but then snapped out of it. “Right! It’s time to move in.” He slithered back into his headquarters, ringing a bell to mobilize his troops. Gang members in blue flooded in from everywhere. They hopped out of boats, ran out of houses and sauntered out of alleys. Some of them even took off regular pieces of clothing and turned them inside out to reveal blue clothes.

We marched off towards Blood Oats territory, gunning down anyone in our way. T chose an ambitious target: a church in the Temple District. It was one of the main sources of blood donations for the gang and was rumored to be one of their best-defended holdings. Well, usually.

T the Tank marched straight up to the doors of the church and pushed. The doors swung inwards easily. A man in red robes came forward to greet the guests, but froze as he saw the crowd of about twenty bloodthirsty Rising Tides members. The priest backpedaled, lunging for a rope hanging from a hole in the wall. Instead of reacting, our fearless, greasy leader just stood there, beaming at the man. The priest pulled the rope, causing a bell to clang loudly. Large stone slabs fell into position behind the church doors, blocking the path.

“They think this will stop us?” T yelled, before laughing theatrically. Then, he changed. He grew, his body stretching and turning a nasty shade of purple. Within moments, he had completely transformed into a large, purple bull. He reared back before charging forwards, streaking towards the doors in a flash of purple light. He smashed completely through one of the stone slabs, dozing his way into the church and continuing on in.

Mouth agape, I looked over at Thwain and Pyro. “Any of you know he could do that?”

“Nope,” Pyro said. Thwain just shook his head, equally surprised.

The rest of the Rising Tides weren’t half as amazed. They rushed up the stairs and into the hole in the church, brandishing weapons and yelling curses. At the sound of battle coming from inside, we joined in with the rush, jogging towards the church and entering through the smashed slab.

The inside of the church would have been beautiful any other day. The high vaulted ceilings, stained glass and beautiful stone pillars gave the place a timeless feel. It really felt like it could have lasted forever, if not for the absolute massacre happening inside its walls. Gang members in blue seemed to be everywhere, attacking anything that moved too fast. We headed off to the left, where there was an office door that hadn’t been kicked down yet. The door had a large blood drop branded onto it, which we figured was our sign to investigate.

Pyro kicked in the door with a heavy booted foot. Wood splintered as the door smashed open, revealing a medical office with the usual chairs, floor, walls, ceiling and another door. There wasn’t much else, really, other than a small bed and a desk. I looked through the desk quickly, but there didn’t seem to be anything interesting. I tried the door, but it was locked. Pyro picked the lock with his boot, expertly unlocking it with a single kick again, revealing a stairwell that descended into darkness.

I quickly backtracked, snagging a torch from a sconce in the hall, before descending the stairs. Under the church, there was a large stone basement with pillars staggered throughout. Directly under where the medical office was situated was a … Machine… It was attached to the ceiling and had wires and runes carved into metal slats and tubes that fed into grooves on the ground. The contraption was convoluted and obviously had some connection with the blood collection, but neither of us could figure it out, other than Pyro’s expected comment about demons.

I examined the grooves in the floor, following them across the basement until I found a bed. Well, ok, it wasn’t necessarily a conventional bed. It looked more like a very well padded coffin. In the coffin-like bed was a person, or was it a thing? She looked female, but she definitely wasn’t human. She had red and black scales all over her body, two horns that curled up and back, and a plethora of wires sticking into her from all angles.

I looked at Pyro, confirming the expected shit-eating grin on his face.