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Violent Solutions
81. Recovery

81. Recovery

I stepped down the stairs and checked my head-up display, frowning when I saw that I had used more magic than I thought. I must have accidentally used force magic when I wasn't intending to, I thought as my blue energy refilled from reserves, I'm really going to have to watch that. Down in the dining room, almost everyone had left save for a group of tubby-looking men, who were glaring at me from across the room. They must have overheard some of the conversation, I reasoned. One of the men, who had a shaven head, shaven face, and orange eyes, stood up and sauntered over to me. His animal-skin vest barely fit him, and his pants were filled with holes.

“Hey you,” he called. His voice was deep and his body language was confident. Odd, because he's only of average height, I thought. I considered engaging with the man for a moment, but then looked to the door behind the back counter which I was fairly sure led to Yehpweyl's room. Opting to ignore him, I headed for the door, jumping the counter to take a direct route. “I'm talking to you!” the man yelled. I continued to ignore him and tried the door's handle, finding it locked. With a swift kick, I crushed the door inwards, snapping off part of the frame.

The interior of the room was the most luxurious quarters I had seen since coming to the island, and one of the most spacious I had ever seen. The room was at least eight meters by twelve meters, with a large bed situated in the rough center, pressed against the right wall. Cabinets and dressers lined the back wall, and a desk sat against the left wall with a lantern on it. Two chests were placed along the sides of the bed, both with locks on them. Woven carpets with intricate patterns covered parts of the floor, and there was also a small pipe with a hand pump for water jutting out of the right wall.

I entered the room and shut the door behind me, grabbing the chair from the desk and jamming it shut to dissuade the man outside from trying to enter. I heard him and his associates talking, but I wasn't paying attention to exactly what was said. Instead, I began ransacking the room in search of my gear. I emptied out the dressers and cabinets onto the floor and spread the contents around, finding nothing. I pulled the drawers out of the desk and found not much besides a few ngoywngeyt. Nothing was under the bed, nor under the covers on the bed, so I sighed and turned my attention to the chests.

The locks on both were primitive, not even at the level of being a padlock. Instead, they were just sliding bars that could only be moved if a key was inserted. I briefly considered trying to pick the locks, but then realized I was being stupid. The material making up the rest of the chests was just hardwood, not even metal, so it would be quicker and easier to attack it. Taking the left chest first, I turned it around and found the hinges on the back, then began burning through the nearby wood with heat magic. The point of heat instantly carbonized the wood as it passed over it and I kept the fire hazard under control by stopping occasionally to put out any errant flames.

Two minutes later I shoved my fingers between the lid and the box and pried it open, using the lock as a hinge and snapping the hinges out of the charcoal they had been nailed into. The contents of the chest were all paper and leather. Documents, I sighed, I should have weighed it against the other one to avoid this. I emptied the chest out just to make sure that there wasn't anything hidden, and besides a small golden necklace, there was nothing. I burned open the second chest, popped the lid, and smiled.

My sword and spear sat atop my armor, as if they were waiting for me. I stripped myself down, then removed my old clothing and put it on. My pants were inside as well and had some minor holes repaired. For the first time in days, I wore something that fit me properly and didn't stink of human odor. After strapping my spear, axe, and sword back into their usual spots, I found my knife in the chest, holster and all, and attached it to my leg. Finally, I thought, I felt naked without proper weapons. One more weapon sat at the bottom of the chest: Koyl's new sword. With a frown I removed it as well, putting it onto my right hip beside my axe.

He hasn't run away, I thought, something happened. He's been captured by the Hatchet Crew or possibly imprisoned. There's no way he would have left without coming back for this, after spending all the time and money going to get it. The events of the day we had attacked Yaavtey began to make more sense. Koyl must have been subdued before or during my attack on Yaavtey, leaving him unable to provide fire support as I had intended. For some reason, the thought of Koyl being attacked made my body angry. To some extent I could understand the primal rationale, his situation was essentially a result of my failure to judge Yaavtey's strength correctly.

Looking back at the room, which was now in tatters, I did one last search for valuables before unblocking the door and heading back out into the dining room. The men had been quiet and I had assumed they left, but I was surprised to find them standing in the middle of a cleared section, weapons drawn. All the tables and chairs had been moved to the sides of the room, leaving a roughly circular area in which the five men posed menacingly with knives. We locked eyes, and the bald man licked his blade. Is that supposed to be intimidating? I wondered.

“Can't let you have your way with the inn mistress,” he said, “you just walk on out of here and maybe you'll be able to outpace the guard.” I narrowed my eyes.

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“You called the guard?” I asked. One of the men, the tallest one who had longer hair, spat on the ground. “That isn't an answer,” I said.

“We'll be calling them after we beat you senseless, doymztoyl,” another man snapped. I worked out what the insult meant, then nearly laughed when I realized it was about my skin's pigmentation. This group of idiots will make for good practice, I thought, socially and combat-wise. I reached for the spear on my back and unfolded it. I had bought the weapon mainly for hunting, not realizing that it wouldn't be useful in the city. Though the blade was wide the kinds of wounds it could inflict were not generally lethal to the humans of the island, so I had deliberately favored my sword in combat. Now, however, I had no intention of killing.

“Come on then,” I said as I stepped out from behind the counter, “beat me senseless.” With no hesitation, the group of men yelled and ran at me. I speared the long-haired man first, piercing his heart and left lung with a quickly retracted jab. Once the blade was free, I swung it at high speed and took out the eye of the shorter man beside him, who went down screaming. I directed the lateral slash upwards, then reversed the direction for a diagonal chop to the bald man's neck, spilling his blood and knocking him to the floor.

The remaining two men, who looked as average to me as most of the Uwrish, rather Luwahriy people in town, passed the point of my spear and charged me. I dropped the weapon, opting to take them on unarmed. Clumsy knife strikes swung at me and my reflexes, finely honed over lifetimes of combat, enabled me to stop both before they hit their targets. Using force magic I prevented the men from withdrawing their hands from my blocks, and then I opened my own hands into the light gesture which drew their eyes. Two simultaneous bright flashes blinded the men, and two one-handed shoves sent them into a heap on top of their associates.

I picked up my spear and began stabbing the pile of tangled limbs at a rate of around once per second. Every time one man nearly got to his feet, I rewarded him with a new wound that sent him back to the ground groaning in pain again. Despite outward appearances, I was paying attention to the amount of blood being spilled and the men's own vigor. I didn't want to kill them, I just wanted them to leave. Even if they call the guard, it’s unlikely they’ll respond quickly unless there’s a killing, I reasoned. After a few minutes, the men were too exhausted to rise and slick with bodily fluids. I reached in, relieved them of their knives, then tossed them into the wall beside us.

“Leave,” I commanded, “and if you send the guard here I will find you and your families. Don't expect mercy.”

“Seytoydh pihnoyzm,” one of the men swore. I kicked him, getting another pained groan in response, then the men slowly started to get to their feet. I met each one of their gazes, making it very clear that I was being magnanimous by letting them live, and watched them walk out of the inn. One will probably still call the guard, so I should be ready, I thought. I stood in silence for a while, just trying to plan what I should do next, then I was broken from my trance by footsteps coming down the stairs behind me.

“Oh, you're still here,” Yehpweyl said softly. She sounded defeated, and when I turned around I saw her downcast expression. She must have heard the fighting and thought that I had been beaten up, I thought with amusement, I wonder if she paid those men.

“I found seven ngoywngeyt,” I said, “I'll deduct that from what you owe me.” Yehpweyl wasn't listening and instead was looking at the pool of blood with an exhausted expression. “When was the last time you saw Koyl?” I asked.

“Just... the night before you two left early in the morning,” Yehpweyl croaked, “He never came back. It was weird that he didn't.” She glanced at Koyl's sword on my hip with an unreadable expression, then back to the blood. “That sword is worth a decent amount of money,” she added.

“Let's negotiate the rest of the repayment,” I said. Yehpweyl winced, then walked past me and locked the inn's front door. She stood in place for a while afterwards, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Even the women are emotionally unstable, I thought, I had assumed it was just the men.

“There aren't any guests in right now,” she said, “I checked while you were, well you know.” I didn't know how that fact was relevant, but I kept silent. Usually, Koyl would have handled this, I noted, it's annoying to have to deal with these people myself. Yehpweyl averted her gaze, then reached behind herself. I watched as she began to remove her upper garment, letting it fall from her and revealing her entire upper body. They really do look exactly like other mammalian organs, I thought, It's almost strange to see that there really are only two.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Yehpweyl looked up at me, then tightened her jaw.

“Don't tell me you want to leave the armor on,” she sighed.

“I am not disrobing for any reason,” I replied, allowing just a hint of uncertainty to reach my voice. “Is this some kind of custom here?” Yehpweyl paused her removing of her lower garments and looked at me, appearing equally confused.

“What country do you come from where people do it fully clothed?” she scoffed. “Or, what, are you just shy?” A number of questions arose in my head, and several questions I had were answered. Right, I remembered, these people trade copulation as a service for money. She must have assumed that I would accept some duration of it as repayment. The slightest twinge of an urge to indulge her bubbled up from my body, oddly, but I suppressed it easily. Irrational, I thought, I have no idea why this body would have such an instinct.

“This is not acceptable payment,” I said sternly, “put your clothes on, you're not getting out of debt that easily.” Yehpweyl gaped at me, blinking a number of times in disbelief. Once she realized I was serious she quickly pulled her shirt back up. I dragged a table over along with two chairs and sat down, allowing the woman to sit across from me. She looks like she's running a fever, I thought, I wonder if there's something wrong with her.