Dark Fantasy Ep 02

The City-State of Kahn (Slums)

The door of the small shack opened and in walked Hector. His small dwelling was in a forgotten corner of the slums where he could sleep in peace. The shack was just a single room, with a chest in the corner, a fire pit with a pot hanging over and a hammock for rest. Latching the bar closed he took off his cloak and tool bag setting them both inside of the chest along with his scarf. After he had closed and locked the chest, he bolted his door shut. The sun was rising and for everyone else, the day was beginning. Running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair he gave away a deep breath before crashing onto his hammock. He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, the sounds of a busy city coming to life trickling through his walls. It had gotten to the point where he couldn't sleep in silence. When the noise of people going about their morning activities increased, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

~

Fatman's Saloon and Whorehouse (Slums of Kahn)

The front door swung open and there stood a massive frame of a manlike figure. He wore a hood cloak concealing every feature, his face hidden by shadow under the oversized hood. He stepped in, his heavy boots with an iron trim pounding against the wooden door. Not many in the saloon were up that early in the morning except the bartender who shook in fear at the sight of the figure. In one hand the figure carried an executioner's axe that he slung over his shoulder approaching the bar. Slowly the figure moved to the bartender, until it was close enough that he could peer into the darkness under the hood and see two glowing red eyes.

The figure turned back to the door and in a gruff and hollow voice called out, "Mistress, the area is safe." The figure turned back to the bartender, those glowing red eyes locked on the poor shivering man. Behind the giant figure walked in a gorgeous noble woman. Her soft red hair flowed down her back, braided and styled. She wore a fine silk dress, with slits running up the sides of the legs. By this time the employees and prostitutes had come out of their rooms to gaze at the two visitors.

"One of my better entrances I must say." The aristocratic woman smirked. "Too bad it had to be in such a dump. I'm looking for the Fatman" she called out.

From the back office the Fatman came out to see who was calling. He finished shoving a sausage down his throat and then motioned for them to follow him in the back. Wiping the grease on his unwashed shirt he went back into the office and sat behind his desk. The woman and the figure soon followed. The Fatman took a moment to regard her lovely body as she walked in looking around with a rather unimpressed expression on her face.

"What can I do for you?" The Fatman asked.

"I am Lady Selk" she started, "you may have heard of my slave Rogra."

After she turned and pointed to her companion he had pulled back his hood to reveal himself as the much feared half-orc. His eyes black looked empty, only in the dark did they seem to come alive in burning desire. The half-orc set the executioner's axe aside for the moment, leaning it against the wall. He then slowly moved himself so he stood beside and towered above the Fatman at his desk.

"Yeah I heard of him. Who hasn't heard of the mighty Rogra these past few weeks?" Fatman snickered.

Lady Selk smirked at Fatman's courage in front of her companion. It may have been stupidity, but he wasn't afraid. She decided to get straight down to business, "I have a busy day ahead so I'm just going to get straight to it."

"Well what is it? I'm a busy man to." Fatman snapped.

"I'm sure you are. A woman was supposed to be executed today but somehow she was assassinated while being locked in the dungeon. We found Reynolds and he met with his demise." Lady Selk the sneered out, "I hate having to slither through the slums to find someone. Fortunately for us, he was quick to tell who he paid to orchestrate the assassination. You."

The Fatman laughed shaking his head. "So Reynolds is dead huh? He wasn't going to last long. You don't belong in the slums you have no idea how this city works or who is in charge. I'll have both of you cocksuckers dead by nightfall!" The Fatman didn't so much speak his words, as he spit them out.

"Lady Reynolds was to be humiliated and executed before the entire city. It was my wish. All of my wishes come true. If my wishes don't come true then I get upset, and when I get upset Rogra gets violent!" Lady Selk screamed at him. Rogra then grabbed the Fatman's wrist and held his fingers against the edge of the desk. With his other hand balled into a fist, he hammered it down breaking all four of the Fatman's fingers.

The Fatman pulled his hand away from the half-orc curling it up close to him screaming. His first screams were that of pain, but then turned into a stream of enraged curse words in which he swore them both dead before nightfall. The half-orc moved away from the desk picking his executioner's axe back up. A sadistic smirk crossed his face as he watched the Fatman squirm in pain.

"If you feel I have been unfair to you, by all means Fatman, let your complaints be known to Rogra. Come come now puppy." Lady Selk snapped her fingers and left the office with Rogra following. They went into the main saloon where Titus stood before them, his sword slung over his shoulder. Rogra moved in front of the Lady Selk standing nose to nose with the blind warrior before she snapped her fingers again. Rogra turned away from the old warrior following his mistress out of the saloon.

Gloria ran to Titus after the woman and the half-orc slave had left pulling at his arm. She pulled him back up the stairs and into his room away from possible danger. Sitting him down on the bed she let out a deep sigh shaking her head at him.

"You shouldn't do that. I heard things about him, he is supposed to be really strong." Gloria said sitting next to Titus.

"He smelled like orc. I hate orc. If I was incapable of battle, I wouldn't have survived this long into my life you know." Titus explained. He set his sword aside and positioned himself so his back was against the backboard of the bed. He looked bored and longing for conflict, but he was too old for such things and knew he needed to leave that behind him.

"Have you always been blind?" Gloria asked.

"No," Titus answered. "When I was ten a man poured acid into my eyes to prevent me from becoming a great warrior. As fate would have it, I became the greatest of the west. I even went deep into the Shadowlands and survived that."

"Why would you go into the Shadowlands?"

"I wanted to die there, but I didn't. I realized how sad it was to die without purpose. So I came to Kahn to find one."

Gloria laid her head down on his lap. "I don't like it here, when you leave take me with you."

Titus placed his hand gently upon her hair, stroking it. The soft touch of it filled him with a sense of ease and peace, something he had not felt since being a child. He nodded, "I could use the company" he told her. Company he could use; but her he needed.

Their moment of peace was suddenly startled by a disturbance outside in the street. Gloria stood and rushed over to the window looking out of it to see a man dead and a crowd gathered around the body. Her spirit withered a bit as she tired of seeing this daily violence in these slums. The only thing she could hear over the loud clatter of the crowd was the indistinct shouting of the Fatman. Letting out a deep sigh she left the room and stood at the rail of the balcony to look over the saloon. She wanted to see what was going on now. The Fatman was screaming something about vengeance from his office and out of it came a young thief carrying a sack of loot. It took her a moment to recognize him as Hayabusa.

Rolling his eyes Hayabusa headed for the door. As he left he looked over his shoulder and gave a smirk to the red head watching him leave. Outside on the street he swung his large sack over his shoulder and began walking through the slums. He pushed and slithered his way through the crowd trying to catch as little attention as possible due to the valuables he was carrying. He strolled deeper and deeper into the maze that was the streets of the slums until he came to a little known corner with a small hut. He knocked twice, paused, and then knocked three more times. After a moment the door unlocked from the inside and the door swung open. Hayabusa quickly ducked inside.

Hayabusa immediately closed and locked the door behind him. He went over to a chest in the corner and opened it up with his key to toss his sack inside. He pushed a toolkit aside and barely squeezed in it. After closing and locking the chest he looked over his shoulder to Hector who had just laid back down on the hammock.

"Well I got some good news and some bad news." Hayabusa began.

Hector groaned knowing when ever Hayabusa began a conversation like that, it usually ended up in him having to kill someone. After a moment Hector finally managed to sigh out, "All right. Give me the bad news first."

"We're not getting paid today. As a matter of fact we probably won't be paid for at least five days now. I showed up at Fatman's to sell some lifted items and he just had his fingers broken by a half-orc."

Hector sat up. "A half-orc? Lady Selk's half-orc?"

Hayabusa nodded, "the same. She wasn't happy about her rival getting such an easy death. Fatman wants her dead. You might want to consider giving him this one for free since she'll probably try and come after you anyway. The problem is you'll only get one shot at her before the half-orc comes after you. He'll kill you easily, they can see in the dark and you won't be able to outrun or hide from him."

Hector listened carefully all ready running a few ideas through his mind. Hayabusa was right, even if he killed Lady Selk there was only the slimmest of chances he would make it out alive. "There is another option" he said a thought coming to him.

"What option is that?"

"We don't assassinate her, we kill the half-orc. Without the half-orc she is powerless. I mean Fatman could kill her in the middle of the market himself and no one would care. He doesn't need me to kill Selk, he needs me to kill her slave. There is a masquerade tonight, all of the wealthy will be there. I need you to get us two forged invitations and four costumes. I've had a lot of work this week, this last one should earn me a long vacation."

~

The Millington Estate (High End of Kahn)

"So Selk plans on having her masquerade despite her cause for celebration dying last night instead of this morning?" The Brat laughed. He tossed a grape into his mouth lounging about in the parlor of the Millington house. Holding the bowl of grapes was his half-elf slave girl, Essena. Her blonde hair was cut short with her ears clipped down. All over her face she had piercings. Five were in each ear, three in her left eye brow, two on her bottom lip and one in her nostril. She sat in the proper manner, back on her knees with her thighs parted and back arched. She kept her eyes lowered to the floor.

Hugo sat in the parlor with the Brat and eyed the face of the slave girl. Turning his attention back to the Brat he nodded. "She does," he said sipping at his cup. "She doesn't want to lose too much face because of this affair, canceling the ball would mean defeat for her you know. She simply cannot have that."

"Indeed she can't" the Brat sighed out lazily. "Oh I suppose I'll go. It's going to be a real chore sitting through something that dull. What kind of wine will she be serving?"

Hugo shook his head, "I do not know. I must ask, is the piercing that much more effective means of a punishment for half-elves?"

"Of course" the Brat grabbed Essena by her chin and lifted her head up so Hugo could get a better view. "Half-elves inherited the vanity of the elves. Cutting their hair and clipping their tall ears will break their spirits. They pride themselves in their fair faces, so any decoration is seen as a disfigurement to them. You can spend all day beating them with a whip when one piercing will do so much more for much longer. This one here is quite the little bitch sometimes as you can see by the amount of piercings she has. I named her Essena. It wasn't easy getting her to accept her slave name. She had a feisty spirit before I broke her in. You were broken in very well weren't you?"

"Yes master," Essena whispered. "This girl was broken in good."

"Classically trained I see" Hugo commented.

The Brat looked up at Hugo with a smirk. "Would I have it any other way? Are you bringing Anellia?"

"To tonight? I don't see why not."

The Brat chuckled, "it will be good for her, after you're robbery from last night. Did she see the criminal?"

Hugo shook his head, "no. She said she was asleep for most of the night. Thieves are quiet, they can sneak right pass a person sleeping with ease. This house is not an easy target however. He must have been quite good."

The Brat burst out into laughter. "Hugo, in your house even the thieves are of the highest quality. Your grapes are not half bad either. Who was the bald mercenary standing out front?"

"His name is Borden, a mercenary of some fame to the west. I hired him this morning after the break in last night. He is quite a capable fighter I hear."

"Do you hear from him or others?" The Brat asked.

Hugo glared at the Brat for a moment. "Does he look like a man who would boast carelessly?"

The Brat grinned, "is that a comment of scorn or an honest question?"

"An honest question."

"Then I shall answer. He looks cunning, but not a man who would boast falsely for employment. Say, is that the fellow I bumped into yesterday?"

"The same."

"Hmm," the Brat pondered, "I wonder if he was insulted. I shall have to ask on my way out. You know it will cause you great pain Hugo but I must take my leave. There is much to do and only an afternoon to do it in. I must say hello to Anellia on my way out. Is she home or out looking for a costume?"

"She is home. I'll call her down for you. Then I must be off the do some work in my study." Hugo said standing up with the Brat. He moved out of the parlor to the foyer where he called upstairs, "Anellia come down for a moment." With that he nodded farewell to the Brat and walked off to his study to do much needed work.

The Brat watched as Anellia came down the stairs. She offered him a smile and came down to the front door to see him out. "You are spending a lot of time with my husband as of late. You two must be up to something."

The Brat grinned as Anellia opened the door for him. He motioned for Essena to leave first, which she did quickly. "Walk with me to the road will you Lady Anellia?" the Brat asked her.

"But of course."

Anellia stepped outside with the Brat in tow. Closing the door behind him he walked along side her down the garden path. A sprawling green with gold and purple flowers bloomed and carefully looked after. "Are you coming to the masquerade tonight Lady Anellia?"

"Yes" she smiled. "I have my costume ready and await it eagerly. Will you be there?"

"Perhaps, I have little interest in parties. However it should be interesting to witness Lady Selk's mood." The Brat snickered. "Dangerous times are ahead Lady Anellia and hurling down upon us fast. I would suggest hiring some private protection yourself."

Anellia looked at the Brat puzzled. "My husband has just hired a mercenary for house security."

"Indeed he has. You should hire someone independently though. Surely Hugo would not object to that?"

Anellia thought for a moment and looked to the front gate where Borden the new hire was standing. "Do you know not trust that man?"

"Mercenaries go to the highest bidder. If a better offer came along, he would take it in a heart beat and leave you to fend yourself. Perhaps even slip a knife into the delicate curve of your back." The Brat's eyes followed the curve of Anellia's back down to the top of her rear where he pulled them away.

"You words are too bold Brat." Anellia objected.

"Perhaps, but you will need protection if...Hugo should not be around long."

"What do you mean?"

The Brat put his hands up in the air. "All I am saying is that Hugo and I are in possible danger. Take my advice to heart and I shall take my leave. No doubt I will see you tonight."

"That you will Brat. Good day." Anellia watched as the Brat and his half-elf slave left the estate through the front gate. Her eyes then ventured over to Borden who stood by the gate, gazing out to the street. Fear set in, as thoughts of betrayal and murder entered her mind.

~

The Shadowlands

It was supposed to be just a little into the afternoon, but the Shadowlands were locked in eternal darkness. The ash covering the ground made it difficult to for the horses to pull the wagon, even with the help of Maultooth the half-orc pushing from the back. A good torch or lantern could help with the ever growing darkness as they moved deeper into the Shadowlands, but they were still only in it's outskirts. Instead it looked as if a dark storm had swallowed a summer's day, as the area was still visible to the halfling's naked eye.

Dario sitting on the driver's seat came to a stand as he spied the goblin camp. In a few minutes he would pull his haul into the very center of the Black Market. Goblins were quite the industrious little scavengers, buying and selling anything they could. Their most profitable good being female human slaves to sell to the other dark races. Orcs, ogres, giants and trolls had a taste for the pleasures of human women.

Once dead center in the market Dario brought the wagon to a halt. Maultooth walked around to the front stretching his arms a bit. A goblin scampered up to the wagon and motioned to the back. "What you got halfling?" the goblin asked. Goblins were smaller creatures reaching only about four feet in height. They were mostly characterized by their brown skin, long pointed ears and long narrow noses.

Dario went into the back of the wagon. The goblin went around to the back with him peering into it and watched the halfling emerge pulling a struggling woman behind him. "I have a woman, fairly young, fresh and unspoiled." He explained hopping out of the wagon and pulling the woman out with him.

The goblin groaned looking over her. "I'll give you fifty for her."

"Fifty? Look at the size of her breasts, just big enough for a giant's or ogre's hand. Both of those you can get three hundred from for this beauty. I won't accept less than a hundred and fifty for her." Dario was a master negotiator. When dealing with the goblins you had to be. They were as clever as they were hideous. The slightest in miscalculation and one could wind up being cheated by them.

"I'll give a hundred and twenty five. I can pay no more." A blatant lie from the goblin, but that mattered little in business.

"I can accept that." Dario agreed handing the chain over to the goblin. "I'm selling the wagon and all the loot inside as well, plus one of the horses."

The goblin handed the chain to another who pulled her away towards the slave trade tent. "Why not both horses?" the goblin sneered.

"We'll need one to carry all of the money you are going to pay us. We took in quite the load, among it an artifact. A Qeullin artifact."

"Qeullin?" the goblin's interest peaked. "For a cult they pay very well for lost artifacts. Let's unload the loot and go through it piece by piece. You can keep the wagon and horses. Wagons we have and horses don't live long enough to sell in this air."

Maultooth uninterested in the business aspects of pillaging found a quiet place to sit down and rest. He was holding a book he found inside of the wagon titled "Simple Alphabet". He opened it up to the first page seeing the picture of an insect. Slowly he spoke "A is for ant", he grinned a sense of pride filling him. He turned the page to see the picture of a bear, "bear" he whispered. He flipped another page to find a picture of a cat. Before he could continue he was interrupted when Dario called for him.