Before you continue . . .
I just want to tell you that chapter 1 has been rewritten. If you already read it before reading this chapter, chances are, you might have read version one.
Also, you might wanna read "Transgressions of Fate". It's a little . . . "less AU" that this one, so I guess that might appeal to some people you know . . .
Well, that's basically all I have to say for the moment.
Hope you enjoy the fic.
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RAGNAROK ONLINE FANFIC
SOLDIER'S TASKBy: RAGNAR (that really is my name)
Chapter 02: Meetings of Low ReputeDenise and Janet walked down the alleyway pursuing a lead about the Neyus Underground. The darkness of night almost engulfed the whole area if not for the occasional light or lamp that flickered from some upstairs apartment.
Janet, after "asking" their informant, only got the reply that the Underground might have the information they need. Denise reasoned that since Marus was already infamous at some points, it would come to no surprise that someone from the Underground heard about him.
"Do you think that he was telling the truth?" Denise asked.
Janet grinned while looking at her sideways. "Oh please! The guy was squirming under my boot. Besides, I gave him enough . . . incentive . . . to tell me his grandmother's cup size."
Denise winced at the other woman's frankness. She then tried to cover her waist with her denim jacket, which was rather useless because the jacket was only a few inches longer than her tank top.
Janet patted her head the same way someone would pat a six-year-old. "Come on, Denise, it wouldn't hurt to flaunt your assets once in a while."
Denise irritably waved off Janet's hand. "My 'assets' are none of your business, Janet, or do I have to remind you of that certain incident regarding a certain Knight?"
Janet stared up dreamily on the night sky and moaned – moaned! The woman had no sense of decency at all! – "Oh yes . . . him." The Assassin then chuckled at her, "You should try it one day, Denise. I don't think it would hurt to have new experiences, you know. Besides, I don't think Marus would mind . . . too much."
Suddenly, before Denise even realized it, Janet was hugging her in a provocative manner while rubbing her thigh in a way that made her blush all the way to her scalp.
Janet then said with smoky eyes and heated voice, "Or do you have different preferences?" The Assassin's hand reached a spot that Denise was sure wasn't supposed to be touched.
Denise shoved the Assassin away with a considerable amount of force.
"PLEASE JANET! I am not another one of those women who would give up her maidenhood just like that! And I am certainly not like . . . like that!" shock and mild outrage ran through her head as she scolded the Assassin.
Her cheeks still felt like wildfire though.
At first, Denise thought that Janet was going to apologize, or at least sulk, but then . . . she laughed! "You should have seen the look on your face, Denise! It was hilarious!"
This time, Denise was blushing from indignation. "What do you mean 'hilarious'?!"
"You were blushing like a tomato!" the Assassin said through gritted teeth in an attempt to not laugh out too loud.
Sometimes, Janet satisfied her sense of humor at Denise's expense. That fact sometimes, if not always, brings the two of them into some kind of debate – although, a rather senseless one . . .
"I was not!"
"Yes you were!"
Suddenly, a shout interrupted their childish argument. "What you do here!? What all that ruckus?!" the voice sounded drunk.
The first voice was followed by another voice with an accent. "Hey everybody! We got ourselves some stray ladies! Must be our lucky day!"
Five men appeared on each side of the alley, blocking any way out. Denise saw Janet place herself in a battle stance. Both of Janet's hands seemed unconsciously excited to snap out her katars hidden under her coat sleeves.
Denise placed a hand on the Assassin's shoulder. The last thing they need is to have a murder placed on their hands. "These men aren't demon's or the Undead, Janet. They're just the city's rejects . . . we can't kill them."
Before Janet can answer her, the man with the second voice stepped out of the shadows and spoke. "Well, what do we have here? 'Ye ladies lost?"
The man grinned to show that his upper teeth were all gold-plated. He then brandished a switchblade in front of him as if to scare them. "Too bad for 'ye, but me and me buddies really need some entertainment and all, if 'ye catch me drift."
Some of the men chuckled while the rest laughed.
Denise can sense the strained tolerance in Janet's voice even if it sounded cool and calculating. "Let us through or you'll regret it, you scum."
"Janet . . ." Denise inched a little closer to the Assassin and whispered, ". . . do you think it's wise to provoke them like that? We are outnumbered five to one, if you haven't noticed."
Janet's only reply was, "They'll live."
The one with the switchblade grinned even wider. "Yev got spunk. I like spunk." He shouted to his friends, "Hey boys! 'Ye all can have the blonde. I gets to have the other chick."
With that, the other men came forward. Their grins and lustful eyes were enough to make Denise cringe and retch at the same time.
Apparently, Janet felt the same way she did. The Assassin popped her knuckles before whispering to her, "Can I at least kill the guy who called me a 'chick'?"
Still, Denise said firmly, "No."
Suddenly, Denise felt two grimy pairs of hands on each of her arms. The smell of the men behind her made Denise gack. Another pair of hands started feel up and down her body while another pair fumbled on her belt.
In her carelessness, Denise had not noticed that there are more men closer to them.
Denise tried to struggle away, but only managed to shout out in a panic, "JANET! HELP!"
The Assassin was quick to respond. Behind her, Denise felt a snap, then a scream, followed by curses from the other men who just let her go.
As she started to turn around, Denise heard more sharp snaps and clipped screams. When she finally completed her turn, she saw Janet wiping her hands on her black coat. The four men who grabbed her were lying on the ground, groaning in pain – why they were in pain, Denise didn't know.
"BITCH!" the man with the switchblade shouted out in anger when he saw what Janet did to his friends, "GET 'EM BOYS!!!"
With that, the ten men ran towards them with knives and broken bottles.
Janet placed Denise behind her. The Assassin placed herself in a battle stance. "Denise, cover me."
Denise nodded as she cast the necessary blessings on her friend.
The first man to reach Janet lunged with his broken bottle only to find himself with a broken arm. The next one slashed with his knife and hit only empty air.
Janet grabbed the second attacker's arm and used it to stab another man in the shoulder. As soon as the other man cried out in pain, the Assassin punched the one with the knife on the nose. When the man tried to stop his nose from bleeding, Janet punched him hard on the stomach. After that, she sent a well-placed roundhouse kick to the head of the man with the stabbed shoulder.
When Janet's first two assailants fell to the ground, the Assassin slammed the back of her forearm on the face of the next man. Janet's withdrawn and concealed katars instantly knocked the man unconscious.
Then, Janet blocked a blow coming from a man wielding a metal pipe with her right arm. Denise saw a brief look of shock on the Assassin's face before it was replaced with fury.
Janet quickly snapped out the blade of her left katar and stabbed the man close the armpit.
Denise, in her shock at the other woman's display of anger, can only stand there and listen at the words that came out of Janet's mouth.
"You just ruined my favorite pair of blades, you worthless . . ." Janet sunk the katar's blade deeper into the man while her other hand choked him to keep him from screaming.
As Janet added more pressure to her slow stab, the blade popped out of the man's shoulder. The steel was almost unrecognizable from all the blood and gore that coated it.
" . . . piece of . . . " The Assassin then slowly twisted the blade in between the man's ribs and shouted, ". . . TRASH!"
When Denise finally regained her senses and gotten over her shock, she cried out to Janet, "Janet, stop it this instant! We're here to find Marus, not kill anyone who crosses you the wrong way!"
Too late, the man fell to the ground writhing in agony.
Janet flicked the blood off her katar before withdrawing it. She then looked at Denise apologetically.
Denise rushed to the injured man and placed her hands on his wound. She performed a slowed Heal spell on him. The spell will aid in closing his injury, but it will not heal too quickly so as to keep him from recovering too fast and be hurt by Janet all over again.
As she stood up, she saw a figure behind the Assassin.
"Behind you!" she cried out.
Before Janet can turn around to counter the blow, the man with the switchblade was already mere inches away from stabbing Janet through the heart.
Casting her arms forward, Denise tried to protect her friend with the only spell that came to her mind. A white beam of light streaked down from the sky and struck the man square at the chest.
There was a blinding flash before the man flew all the way to the opposite wall. Smoke rose up from a smoldering black crater on his chest.
Denise knew that the Holy Light spell wasn't fatal. But the display was enough to send the other men cowering for cover.
As Denise and Janet tried to regain their calm, they heard clapping from an approaching silhouetted figure.
When the man came closer to them, Denise saw that he was flanked by two burly men in black suits. The two men stood at their ease close behind him as he went a little closer to the two women.
Long wavy hair cascaded down all the way to the middle of the man's shoulder blades. He was decorated in various jewels and gold trinkets. His black striped fur-lined orange coat seemed to be made from some sort of cat.
Pretty extravagant taste for someone who frequented the city back-alleys.
His cane rapped on the concrete floor before he spoke. "I hear you gals are looking for the Underground?"
Denise's curiosity perked when he mentioned the Underground. "You know of the Underground?" she asked.
Before the man can answer, Janet cut in, the Assassin's suspicious nature coming to play. "What's it to you?"
The man snapped his fingers and more men appeared.
Denise placed a firm grip on her friend's shoulder when she saw that the newcomers were all armed with guns. She didn't know how dangerous a gun was, but she did know that the people in this world invested much of their time in developing the weapon. The best action for the moment was to stand and wait.
The man saw Denise's restraining gesture on Janet and smiled. "Wise move . . . alright, you can come with us."
"Where?" Denise asked.
He spoke to them as if they asked if he can fly, "Where do you think? The Underground."
This time, Janet ignored all of Denise's warnings. "Hey!" the Assassin's suspicion became obvious as she called out to the bejeweled man, "I don't think you told us your name."
The katar snapped out again. The Assassin stepped between Denise and the men. "And how come you're not surprised at my friend's little light show?"
The man's bodyguards aimed their guns at the two women.
The man let out a loud laugh before speaking to them. "You know, it's something of a rare treat for me to see people that are a bit as smart as you."
He raised his hand signaling his men to stand down. "My name is Alfred. Don't be suspicious of me if you think I haven't noticed your little trick, I'm just not the type to person that gets carried off by things that he doesn't know or understand."
Alfred smiled at them. "Besides, I've already seen stranger things."
Janet raised an eyebrow. "Really?" there was an underlying tone of sarcasm in the Assassin's voice.
As soon as Alfred snapped his fingers, one of his men, someone with a body almost as large as an ox's, pulled a dumpster away from the wall, revealing a passageway down to a dark chamber.
Alfread flourished a bow towards the two women, "Ladies, without any pun intended, welcome to the Underground."
-------AUTHOR'S AFTERNOTE---------------------
AGAIN, ANY REVIEW IS WELCOME. EVEN FLAMES.
JUST PLEASE, I'M ASKING NICELY THAT YOUR REVIEW / FLAME WOULD BE SOMETHING WITH A LITTLE SUBSTANCE, SO TO SPEAK.
"It's pretty much hard to write a story on an empty stomach and a sleepy brain" . . . spoken by someone I know.