Chapter 215: The Rat Snake’s Misfortune

 

  The gangster’s fist smashed into Mel’s face, splitting his lip once more, and slicing the inner cheek across his sharp teeth. Mel’s head lolled to the side as he reeled from the pain. His instincts told him to run, escape the pain, but a small coherent part of his mind told him there was no escape.

  Mel and Witt were tied to chairs back-to-back and blindfolded. Their hands and feet had been bound with rope made from ivlid weed, a common yet tough plant from the Silent Marshes. The Rat Snake gang had ambushed them a few hours ago, yet it felt as if an eternity had gone by.

  The drow gangsters had tied them up, then they had left Mel and Witt with a sadistic couple, Gina and Dan, who got off on beating them senseless for hours. Mel’s leg and arms had long gone numb from the thrashings, but the pain in his stomach and chest burned with throbbing agony. He dimly wondered why they even blindfolded him, his eyes were so swollen he wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway.

  Mel knew this was the end of his short life. While his life hadn’t amounted to much, he was grateful that he had found purpose in the end. He was no longer just the trash and rabble of Hollow Shade, an orphan drifting through the streets begging for scraps. No, he was now a child of Lunis. He was proud that his life held meaning, his sacrifice had saved his fellow brothers and sisters, and Sophi. He had made a difference, that should have been enough, but he still couldn’t stop the trembling running through him at the thought of his looming death.

  “Enough with the punches, honey,” Gina complained.

  “Aw, why, it was just getting good,” Dan groaned.

  “Yeah, but let’s try something new,” she giggled.

  Mel could hear the click of a chest opening and the sounds of metal objects bumping into each other from inside.

  “O-o-oh, let’s try the carving knife!” Gina said happily. “I bet I could skin the goblin’s legs off in under 10 minutes!”

  “Okay, you’re on. Oh, wait, look! The little goblin shit just peed himself,” Dan laughed.

  “Hey, leave the kid alone, you sick fucks!” Witt muttered through swollen cheeks.

  Gina walked over to Witt and grinned, “Trying to play the hero?”

  “Bah! As if that human has a single brave bone in his body,” Dan sneered.

  Witt licked his bloody lips, “I’m not brave. You’re just a bunch of cowards. It’s pretty easy hurting people when they’re tied up. Why don’t you untie me and see who the coward really is?”

  “I could take this stupid shit with only one hand,” Dan spat on Witt’s face.

  “Then try me, you son of a bitch!” Witt snapped.

  “That’s it! I’m snipping your balls first!” Dan grabbed a pair of shears.

  The door swung open.

  “I told you not to rough them up too much. It seems someone needs to learn respect,” a feminine voice said coldly.

  Dan and Gina lowered their heads and stepped back.

  “Sorry, boss,” the couple said together.

  “Both of you get out,” she ordered with a calm voice that held faint yet clear tones of anger.

  Witt heard the footsteps of Dan and Gina run out of the room and the door close behind them. A lighter set of steps walked around Witt and Mel. The footsteps stopped, Witt heard the sounds of a chair being dragged in front of him.

  “Ah, that’s a bit better,” the woman sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Here, let me get that for you.”

  Witt blinked his eyes blearily as his blindfold was removed. His swollen jaw went slack at the sight of the woman sitting across from him.

  “I’m Donna, what’s your name?”

  “W-Witt… You’re the boss?”

  “Didn’t expect a woman?” she smiled.

  “I didn’t expect an orc,” he frowned.

  The orc shrugged, “Our gang may consist mostly of drows, but its membership isn’t exclusive to any one species.”

  Witt looked the woman up and down, she was skinny, almost frail-like; her black leather clothes hung a tad loose over her body, this didn’t seem like the rumored feared leader of the Rat Snake gang.

  “All those guys listen to… you?” Witt asked with a skeptic tone.

  “That’s what happens when you're the one who founded the gang,” she smirked. “Looks like Dan and Gina aren’t the only two who need to be taught respect.”

  “Hard to respect someone when you’re tied up in a chair,” Witt tried moving to no avail.

  “You are a little cocky one aren’t you? But I’m afraid it’s a little late for that now. You see, local residents noticed you and the little goblin behind you disrespecting my men the other day. We are new to this territory, we can’t afford such a display of dissent.”

  “So you’ll just kill us like animals!?”

  She sighed, “No, Gina and Dan went overboard. I was hoping to simply gut you in the middle of the streets. Your death would be horribly painful, but quick. Unlike this whole little torture session.”

  “W-why?” Witt shook with anger or fear, he wasn’t sure.

  “Hm, you’re not too bright are you? We need to show the folks around here that we’re the new gang in charge. They need to know that they have to listen to us. With the gods’ grace, we’ll have the entire five blocks around here under our influence by the end of next month.”

  “So you’re going to kill us, no matter what,” Witt squeezed his eyes tight, tears slipping down anyways.

  “Quite right, I do apologize for dragging this one out. I’ll have the men take you down the street and finish this in the morning.” Donna stood up and headed for the door.

  “You’re religious?” Mel called out.

  “Only a fool would not believe in the gods,” Donna said.

  “Most drows aren’t religious. You really think the gods are going to bless your little atheist gang?”

  “My drows follow my orders,” she glared. “Why do you think they didn’t take you in last time? Your little acolyte friend saved you. The Rat Snakes respect the temple’s own.”

  Mel broke into a cackling fit, his bloody mouth grinning from side to side.

  Donna pulled out her dagger and pointed at the blindfolded goblin, “What’s so funny little man?”

  “You say you respect the temple’s own. But you just had one of them tortured,” he chuckled.

  “Do you really expect me to believe your little street rat ass works for a holy temple?” Donna raised an eyebrow.

  “Nope, but he does,” Mel threw his head back.

  “This human idiot? A priest?” Donna laughed.

  “Not a priest, he’s the temple’s cook,” Mel sneered. “And you just attacked us as he was on a trip to buy food for the temple.”

  Donna’s smile slipped away.

  “Do you really think the gods will bless your little gang now?” Mel chuckled bitterly.

  “Well, shit. I guess you’re right,” Donna threw her hands up in the air. “In that case, Dan! Gina! Get back in here, you still have some work to do with these two.”

  Mel stiffened with fear.

  Donna tapped her foot, “Dan!? Gina!? Get your asses over here, now!”

  A thunderous crash resounded outside the room. Several screams echoed through the house.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Donna muttered.

~~~

  “Is this the place?” Stryg asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the orphan girl nodded repeatedly.

  Stryg, Karen, and the orphan stood in an alleyway, watching a large house down the street. Candlelight glowed from the windows, various figures passed by the curtain routinely. The Rat Snake’s base was far from empty.

  “Good,” Stryg nodded. “I’ll take it from here, you go to the barracks on the eastern side of the Trade District. There you’ll find Captain Rorik Polamtal. Tell him I sent you, and that I want him and his men here for a bit of cleanup. He’ll understand.”

  The orphan opened her mouth to object, but hesitated, and lowered her head. Tears formed at the edge of her yellow eyes, “...Mel, he… we need him. He can’t die…”

   “I can’t promise his safety,” Stryg said. “But I’ll do my best to save your leader.”

  “Mel believes in you, more than any of us,” she swallowed. “Please don’t let him down now.”

  Before Stryg could respond she ran off.

  “Poor girl, Mel is her family,” Karen bit her lip. “I know what it’s like to have your family taken by a gang.”

  “This isn’t like last time,” Stryg said.

  Karen looked around the alleyway dubiously, “This feels exactly like last time. Except it’s already dark, I guess. We don’t have to wait for nightfall.”

  “The dark is always nice in a fight.”

  “So what’s the plan? You sneak in through the back again? Then I’ll come in as backup?” Karen gripped her dagger tight.

  “No, you stay here. I’ll handle this,” Stryg stepped out of the alleyway.

  “That’s what you said last time! And you would have died without my help!”

  “Like I said, last time was different.”

  “How!?”

  “Last time I fought like a hunter. But truth be told, I never did manage to join the hunters,” he admitted. “This time I fight as a mage.”

  “Then why the sword!?” Karen called out from the alleyway.

  Stryg unsheathed the longsword from behind his back and brandished the blade with a flourish. “Because it’s better than a dagger.”

  Karen’s eyes widened as she noticed his direction, “Wait, where are you going!? They’ll see you!” 

  “Not for long,” he whispered to himself. 

  Stryg walked down the street and headed to the Rat Snake’s front door, it was made of iron, an expected defense for their main base of operations. They were definitely wealthier than the Wild Knives gang and larger if the dozens of scents coming from inside were any indicator.

  As he neared, he could hear the sounds of whispers from inside the house. Heavy footsteps ran to the front door. Stryg guessed there were two, maybe three, waiting for him behind the door.

  Stryg smiled maliciously. Brown mana coursed through his lower body, a faint bronze sheen covered his legs as the spell took hold. Vigor magic enhanced the caster’s base strength, but his base strength was far above normal.

  Stryg’s muscles flexed tight. He raised his leg and kicked the door with a resounding boom. The iron door bent under the pressure, ripped off its hinges, and flew back into the wall, smashing the two drows behind into a bloody pulp.

  Screams of horror and confusion echoed through the house. Stryg released the vigor spell and channeled yellow mana over his body. A dim outline of yellow scales surged across his skin.

  Three drows ran out of another room, daggers, and swords in hand. They stared at the intruder in surprise for a brief moment, before charging him in an all-out attack. Stryg took a step back and entered a defensive stance of the Gale Style.

  He may have been taller than other goblins, but his reach was still shorter than any average drow. Like the spear, the longsword eliminated that weakness. Stryg narrowed his eyes as the enemies rushed him.

  Durability scales were heavy, they usually weighed down their caster and slowed their movements noticeably. But he weighed more than others, his body was used to carrying around a little extra weight.

  Stryg waited, his muscles tightened. His enemies were now a mere few feet from him. They raised their weapons, ready to attack. Stryg dashed in and closed the gap in the blink of an eye. His longsword flitted through the air in one swift silver strike. The three gangsters fell apart, their bodies buckling in half at the waist.

  Stryg didn’t waste time to glance at their bodies and jogged over to the living room. A crossbow bolt smashed into his shoulder, his durability scales flaring bright yellow where they blocked the attack. Stryg ignored the futile attack and surveyed the living room.

  The room’s furniture had been flipped over and being used as cover by the gangsters. Two of them stayed at the very back, bolts notched in their crossbows. Another dozen gangsters held spears, swords, and axes at the ready.

  “Kill him!” Gina raised her crossbow.

  Dan fired off his crossbow again, Gina’s bolt flew right behind. The iron bolts broke on his blue skin and clattered to the ground harmlessly. His body had barely been pushed back from the force. Dan and Gian trembled in utter shock. Stryg stared at them, annoyed.

  A human snuck up from behind and swung his ax down at Stryg. The goblin’s right leg spread out and his body ducked low in a smooth sweep. His feet shifted and he spun around the human, his longsword swinging in a wide arc in a coinciding motion. The human’s head rolled off the neck and the man collapsed in a heap of blood.

  “Luca, no!” a dire drow screamed in fury from across a hallway.

  The dire gripped her hammer tight and charged.

  Stryg flicked his open hand, a funnel of orange flame blasted the dire back into the hall in a vortex of fire. She thrashed on the ground as the fire consumed her flesh and seared her bones.

  Stryg glanced at the dozen pale-faced drows in the living room. He hefted the longsword over his shoulder and bared his small fangs, “I really hate snakes.”