Mazik brightened up noticeably. “Why, yes. Yes we are,” he said, his chest swelling.
“Ah. I thought so,” said the man, his tone unchanged. He glanced at the knife again. “That was impressive, how you defeated those, uhm—took them out. Must have been very difficult.”
“Well, I don’t like to brag…” said Mazik.
“Yes you do,” said Gavi.
“You definitely do,” agreed Raedren.
“Didn’t we just talk about this earlier?” asked Gavi.
“I think we did,” said Raedren.
“Okay, you’re right,” said Mazik. “I lied. I love to brag. We’re fantastic. We’re fucking fantastic.”
The man’s face didn’t move so much as a millimeter. It was like his mind was somewhere far away, listening to a voice no one but him could hear. Still betraying no emotion, he held his hand out to Mazik.
“I was very impressed. If you don’t mind, I’d like to shake the hands of the heroes who stopped that menace.”
“I mean, I don’t know about heroes exactly…” said Mazik as he traced little circles in a puddle of spilled beer on the table. Gavi nudged him, eliciting a smile. “Sure,” said Mazik, sticking out his hand. “What was your name by the way? I’m—”
The man in burnt orange lunged for the knife. He wrenched it free of the table and turned to run, but before he could take two steps Mazik grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him backwards, laying him out across the table. The man snarled and tried to pull free, but Mazik wouldn’t let go. As the man turned to stab at Mazik’s chest, Mazik tried to pull away and stand, but his thighs struck the edge of the table and pitched him forward. Their heads collided with a terrific crack!
That’s when Gavi and Raedren joined the fray. As barriers appeared around them, Gavi lunged for the knife and began slamming the man’s wrist into the table. This worked until the thrashing man turned the knife on her. Gavi jerked away, but before the man could throw her off completely Raedren pushed him down by the shoulders, and Mazik dropped an elbow on the man’s forehead like a hammer nailing down a screw. Dark indigo magick crackled as the man’s head collided with the table, and then he went limp.
There was a second’s pause, and then the bar exploded into action.
“You see what this bastard did!” yelled one man, grabbing the burnt orange man by the back of the shirt.
“The fucker!” agreed another.
“We should take ’em out back an’ beat him up!” yelled Silky Hair from the bar. This got a roar of approval.
“Yeh, and see if he has any money on ‘im! I’m thirsty!” said Scraggly. This earned an even bigger roar.
“Just tie him up. Make sure to use enchanted bonds43!” added Mazik, holding his arm where the knife had opened up a new cut. “He’s not a great one, but he’s still a caster.”
“Got them,” said Tielyr, holding up a pair of the handcuffs. This wasn’t The Joker’s first rodeo.
As the burnt orange man was hauled away, Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren looked at each other, and then sat down heavily. They had never even made it out of their seats.
Mazik ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, that wasn’t encouraging. Thoughts?”
“He was going for the knife,” said Raedren, holding it up. He handed it back to Mazik, who looked it over once before sliding it back into its ill-fitting sheath.
“Well I’d say he was looking for a weapon to kill us with, but he definitely tried to run,” said Mazik. “Sounds like another cultist.”
“Almost certainly. His mana was the same color,” said Gavi.
“That can be changed,” said Mazik.
“They’re divs. Maybe not for them?” said Gavi. She shrugged. “It’s possible, but it would be too much of a coincidence.”
“Point,” said Mazik. “So we didn’t get all of them, they’re coming after us, and they want the knife.”
“And they probably know where we are,” said Raedren.
There was silence as they absorbed this.
“You think they’d know what we look like without seeing this?” said Mazik, patting his chest where the knife was sheathed.
“I don’t think it matters,” said Gavi. “I think we need to get the hell out of here before this place turns into a war zone. I don’t want to see it get blown to pieces.”
“It’s too late for that.”
Everyone in the bar watched as a cross-eyed woman wearing a russet tunic stood up from her seat at the bar. Her hips swayed confidently as she oriented herself toward the trio’s table, her hands on her hips, a sword also on her hips, and two men flanking her on either side. Also, no one remembered her entering the bar, which was cause for concern for some of the more clever and/or less drunk patrons.
The cross-eyed woman gave the trio a haughty smile. “Would you like to know one of the powerful magicks gifted to the followers of the Great One?”
“Which god is that again?” asked Mazik. “Though they’re all kind of shitty, if you ask me.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she maintained her composure. “I’m referring to the ability to share what one of us sees or hears with the rest of our fellows. What one knows, all others can be made to know44.”
“Ah,” said Mazik. He nudged Gavi, and she slid out of the booth. “So I suppose that makes you one of those followers, yes?”
“I am,” said the woman proudly.
“So just by looking at us, all your fellows know what we look like, correct?” said Mazik, rising from his seat.
“Yes. It is too late for you to run and hide. Others are already converging on this place!” she declared triumphantly.
“Ah,” said Mazik as he stood up. “Unfortunately, you’re forgetting one thing.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“They’re not here,” said Mazik, cracking his knuckles. “You are.”
The cross-eyed woman and her companions watched as the entire bar rose to its feet. From their expressions it looked like some of the patrons just might do something distasteful, while the rest were clearly looking forward to it.
“Ah,” said the woman.
“Yup,” said Mazik.
Half a minute later, Mazik separated himself from the lopsided melee.
“Come on!” hissed Gavi from the back door. “We need to get out of here before more of them show up!”
“Tie them up tighter!” someone yelled someone above the hubbub. “Only a few more kicks fer each of ya! Gotta keep em alive!”
“Yeh, so they can git hanged at a date ta be determined!” yelled another. Laughter erupted.
“Hold on. That’s what they’d expect. Let’s check the front door first,” said Mazik, wiping blood off his hand. “If none of them are nearby yet, we might be able to melt into the crowd.”
“Fine. Let’s just hurry,” said Gavi. The three of them rushed to the front door and stuck their heads outside. They looked around.
“Do you see anyone suspicious?” asked Mazik.
Gavi quickly chanted a spell, and her eyes blazed green. “I don’t know. Can hardly pick anyone out among all these people…”
There was tap on her shoulder, and then Raedren’s arm pointed past her head. “Look.”
Gavi followed Raedren’s finger to the pub next door, the Dirty Hammock. There, one man and two women were doing the same thing they were, their heads stuck out of the front door as they looked around. One of them, a fat man in a too-tight suit, pointed at the sign above Gavi’s head. Then he noticed Gavi and the others, and began jabbing his finger excitedly at them. He and his companions immediately began pushing their way through the crowd toward them.
“Uh oh,” said Gavi.
“They aren’t the only ones,” said Mazik, who watched as several invisible cultists moved through the street toward them.
“Think that woman was trying to stall us?” asked Raedren.
“Doesn’t matter. We should get back inside,” said Gavi, grasping for her sword. She swore. Suddenl
y she really regretted not bringing her gear with her today. “Fast. Really fast.”
“Agreed,” said Mazik, yanking them back inside. The doors swung shut, and Gavi jammed a wooden bar through their handles.
As silhouettes of heads appeared in the grimy windows and someone began knocking on the front door, Mazik turned to face the bar at large.
“We may have a problem,” said Mazik. All around The Joker, weapons were drawn.
*
“I think I came out of that maze with three stitches of clothes and burns over my entire body,” said Mazik. “Trust me, by the next time we saw that place, I was a lot better at keening.”
“I’ll bet!” said Gavi, laughing.
“At least we had our rings,” said Raedren, holding up his hand. The gem embedded in it gleamed with green light. “It would have been even harder with the cheap training crystals they were handing out.”
“True,” said Mazik. “You remember when we got these things?”
“Today you receive your Telman class rings,” said the speaker. She held up a gold ring. To Mazik and Raedren, sitting near the back, it was barely visible.
“More than just a symbol of your time here, this ring is a tool that will aid you in the future. There is a Hydaervian focus crystal worked into the face of every magick major’s ring. These gems will enhance your spellcasting abilities, allowing you to keen and manipulate mana at a distance. Keep them safe—focus crystals are expensive, and frequent targets of thefts.”
“You don’t have to tell us that,” grumbled Mazik. “We’re the ones who paid for them.”
*
The fat man in the too-small suit watched as curtains were drawn across The Joker’s windows, except for the one window that didn’t have curtains, which was covered by a stack of chairs and three men’s shirts instead. There was a small commotion behind the front doors as something large and heavy was dropped into place, followed by heated whispering.
The fat man put a finger to his ear and listened. From the reports coming in he learned that his allies had already mostly surrounded the building, with most of them concentrated in the trio’s most likely avenue of escape, the back. Since they had limited time before the city guard arrived, the fat man decided to risk getting started while their blockade solidified.
Tucking in his shirt, the fat man waddled over in his fine shoes and tortured pants and knocked on The Joker’s front doors.
“We’re closed!” came a voice from inside.
“I’d like to speak with whoever’s in charge,” said the fat man calmly.
“I said sod off, ya sack ’o shit!” came the reply. “There’s a big fight goin’ on in ’ere, real messy. Come back later!”
The fat man sighed. “I believe you all have some idea of what’s going on, so we clearly have matters to discuss. If you don’t at least open this door long enough for us to speak, we will burn this building down and search for what we’re looking for among the wreckage. Naturally, anyone caught trying to escape will be killed.”
There was a long second of silence, and then the voices on the other side of the door began arguing again. The fat man tapped his foot, waiting.
Finally the front doors cracked open, and three sword tips emerged. “Stand back a little so we know you’re not going to rush us.”
“Of course,” said the fat man, waddling backward.
The door opened wider, revealing Scraggly, Silky Hair, and the Professor holding swords. Behind them there did appear to be some kind of altercation going on, one which most of the bar’s patrons had surrounded and were yelling about excitedly. The fat man immediately assumed this was an act.
“What do ya want?” asked Scraggly.
“Three of your patrons have an item that belongs to us,” said the fat man. “A young woman and two young men. It’s a knife, about this long,” he said, holding out his hands to demonstrate, “made of black metal and with a curved design. If you return it to us immediately then we will leave your bar alone.”
“And—just pretending for a moment that these people are here, which I assure you they’re not—what happens if we don’t give the knife to you?” asked the Professor.
“We will burn the building down and search for it among the wreckage. Naturally, anyone caught trying to escape will be killed,” repeated the fat man.
“Ah,” said the Professor. “Well as I said, it’s not here. Could you please not burn down the building? The owner isn’t here at the moment, and he’ll be quite distraught if it’s not here when he returns.”
An explosion went off in the storeroom at the back of the bar. Even as far away as the front door they could hear what sounded like screaming, along with a great deal of cursing. To their credit, not one of the regulars so much as blinked.
The fat man looked toward one of the women standing behind him. She had a hand to her ear and, after listening for a few seconds, nodded. The fat man inclined his head, and this time she shook hers.
“Really now? Because it sounds like they just tried to escape out the back. Unsuccessfully,” the fat man added. The woman nodded again for emphasis.
The three regulars looked at each other. “Could you excuse us for a few? We need to discuss somethin’,” said Scraggly.
“By all means,” said the fat man. “Just make it quick. If you don’t give us an answer within the next five minutes, we will burn the—”
“You’ll burn the building down, we got it,” said Silky Hair as he and the other two maneuvered out of the way. In their place a man big enough to be two men settled in front of the doorway like a glacier coming to a stop in a ravine.
“…excuse us,” added Glacier, and then the doors shut.
The fat man walked away, to wait. That’s when he realized a crowd had formed, and he recalled the Houkian people’s legendary love for impromptu street theater.
He jabbed a thumb at the bar. “They haven’t paid their bills.”
*
The sounds of commotion coming from the back storeroom continued for half a minute after the explosion, and then the storeroom door burst open and disgorged Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren back into the bar proper. Mazik was the last through, stopping briefly to turn back and fire one last spell at the cultists who had been lying in wait. Making sure to carefully aim around all the beer, Mazik’s blast lifted the two cultists off their feet and hurled them back through the door.
“So, that way’s out,” said Mazik as he dusted himself off.
“Hold on,” said Scraggly as he and the Professor hustled over. They quickly filled the trio in on what the fat man told them.
“Well shit,” said Mazik. “How much longer do we have?”
“About three minutes, but we can probably ask for more,” said the Professor.
“Do that,” said Mazik. Then he remembered himself, and added, “Please. We need a few minutes to figure out what to do.” Mazik stopped and turned back. “Unless you all want us to give them the knife? Serious question.”
“Fuck no,” said Scraggly immediately. “I don’t think there’s anyone here wants ta give ’em anything but an ass kickin’. Besides, you know Houkians don’t like bein’ told what ta do.”
Mazik grinned. “Damn right.”
The trio huddled around the bar. “Okay, so we know they want this,” said Mazik, patting the sheathed knife, “and I believe we’re in agreement that we shouldn’t give it to them. That means we need to get out of here. Thoughts?”
“There are only two ways out of here, the front and the back,” said Gavi.
“Do we have any options other than running away?” asked Raedren.
“We could give up the knife, which we don’t want to do, go outside and fight them, which will either be suicide or result in some serious collateral damage, or let the bar burn down,” said Mazik. “So yes, but they all suck.”
“Did Mazik just vote against collateral damage?” asked Raedren.
“Yes, and I’m aghast too, but no time for that,” said
Gavi. “I agree, running away is the best option. Other than maybe holing up and hoping the city guard comes soon, but—”
“They’ll burn the place down,” Mazik finished for her.
“Yes,” said Gavi. “So do we just pick a door and go for it?”
“That also sounds like suicide,” said Mazik. “There has to be another way.”
Mazik closed his eyes, his fingers rapping on the bar as he thought. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. It wasn’t long before a slow smile spread across his face.
“I know what to do,” said Mazik. “They expect us to go out the front or the back, right?”
“If we decide to run, yes,” said Raedren.
Mazik grinned, and then spun in his chair until he was facing the blank wall next to the liquor cabinets. “Well, we know what to do when there isn’t a door where we need one, don’t we?” he said, his hands already glowing.
“Oh, no,” said Gavi as Mazik walked over to the nearest wall and kneeled. “Hold on a second!” said Gavi, running over and grabbing his wrists. “Have you even thought of what we’d do once we’re out there? Even ignoring the fact that I’m not sure this building will stay standing if you cut random holes in it. What if there are enemies out there?”
“Sounds like a later problem,” said Mazik, though he didn’t pull his hands away. “All we need is a bit of a head start, and then we attack one or two of them to draw their attention away.”
“And then die horrible deaths when they’re all chasing us?” asked Raedren.
“That’s what the head start is for,” said Mazik. “Also, we’d need to run really, really fast and hide when possible. That plus you shielding us.”
“I’d like to nominate myself for MVP of all quests and/or fights from here on out,” said Raedren.
“Motion approved, you’re the best,” said Mazik immediately. “Do you guys have a better idea? We’re running out of time.”
“No, but…” Gavi groaned. “You just like this trick, don’t you?”
“Pretty much!” said Mazik. He tapped his forehead. “Lateral thinking.” Then he bent over the wall, his hands glowing again. “So, shall I…?”
Firesign 1 - Wage Slave Rebellion Page 19