Chapter 7: The Three Favorite Things
Argon left the fiery inferno that had only recently been the circus, and went on his way. Of course, even in the midst of this mayhem, not to mention the mayhem to come, beyond even his usual desire for carnage, there was still that lingering feeling. In the back of his mind, he knew what he was after.
He did indeed want Irenicus, wishing to disembowel him in a brutal fashion, and then to revel in the joy of the kill. However, his thief counterpart had only run off a short time ago, so the chances were slim that if he went to the docks now, his answers wouldn't be there waiting for him yet. Plenty of time for that, he said to himself, First things first. I think I'll stroll around the town, see what ruckus I can kick up.
Before he left however, he realized that he was rather hungry. Bhaalspawn though he may have been, even he required sustenance to keep him going. Rooting through his backpack didn't yield too many results, save a small bag of seeds. He vaguely remembered that he was supposed to do something with them, but now, he didn't really care.
"Might as well try them," he muttered. Thus, he took a handful of the seeds, and began to crunch them. They didn't taste very good, rather hard with an almost wooden-like flavor. "Bleh…so much for those…" and without hesitation, casually threw them into a refuse bin nearby. "Time to get some real chow." Not far off he spied an inn, with the sounds of merrymaking and fun within. He chose to go there, with ambitions to eat and kill. Perhaps two of his three favorite things.
Inside was the typical inn establishment, a bartender doubling as an innkeeper, numerous tables and chairs with people drinking and dining. There were of course the usual methods of entertainment. Some musicians, a bard or two, attractive women slipping from one table to the next, things like that. It was dim inside, and fairly crowded, much to Argon's satisfaction. He pulled up a chair sitting his enormous weight down at an empty table, cloaked in shadows. After a few moments, a pretty serving girl, perhaps the same age as Argon himself, came over smiling sweetly.
"Good afternoon sir, what can I get for you today?" Argon had a couple of things in mind, but again, first things first.
"Well, I haven't had a good stiff drink in while. Not to mention, I don't think I've really eaten anything decent for weeks…So just bring me a big pitcher of something strong, and a large piece of meat. That'll do…" The girl nodded, bowed and went off. Argon watched her go, tilting his head to observe her every angle. He liked what he saw. Whilst he waited, he sat silently, watching other people come and go, eavesdropping on nearby conversations. Nothing too noteworthy, most of the comments were drunks whining about their petty problems; bad wages, taxes, their no-good wives, and all that. A few things did catch his ear though.
Apparently, there were some strange murders in the Bridge District, people being skinned alive or some such thing. Another rumor was talk of some rival thieves' guild rising to challenge the Shadow Thieves. Not that these appealed to Argon to any real extent, but as he knew, it was good to keep informed. He was always on the lookout for an excuse to shed blood. Matters like that usually always ended with such things.
As he was listening to some poor sap complaining about how his wife had cheated on him with some lowlife fisherman, the cute waitress returned with a large mug filled with a dark liquid, complete with a heavenly stench that Argon had sorely missed. In her other hand was a metal tray with a huge side of beef, or something just like it. It smelled simply tantalizing.
Argon gave her his charming wolf smile, and lifted an eyebrow, causing her to blush, and bow before leaving him to his business. Which he took care of, drinking his liquor down in vast mouthfuls, savoring the burning taste. The meat was a little dry, but after eating things that had been half covered with mold for who knows how long, one didn't hear him complaining. Once he was done feeling very satisfied, he leaned back in his chair, and stretched. Before long, the girl came back over, probably to leave the bill. He had other ideas.
"How was it sir?" she inquired lightly. To which he answered, "Delicious."
"I'm glad you liked it. Will there be anything else?"
"As a matter of fact…yes…there is…" So saying, he reached out, and slid one giant hand around the girls petite waist, puling her closer. She gasped at this, her face flushing. "What are you…" was all she said. Argon eased her down, having her sit in his immense lap. "I have a feeling that all that food cost quite a bit. Tell me, how much do you cost?" At this, her whole face turned scarlet, and tried to gently pull away. Argon wasn't letting go.
"Please, that's flattering but embarrassing," she tried to tell him, looking in another direction, "I…I'm really…" But he silenced her with a chuckle.
"Oh, I don't know about that." One of his hands reached up, and turned her face back towards him, reestablishing eye contact. That was important. Over the years, he found that women staring right into those black eyes of his had lost all resolve and willpower; their free will almost seemed to have been sapped from them. Judging from this girl's increasingly lax expression, it seemed to be working. But just to be on the safe side, he decided to use another method of persuading as well. One of his hands was around the hem of her skirt, and as stealthily as any serpent, he slithered it up her legs, rising higher and higher.
She felt this, her face almost totally red now, squirming where she sat, hugging her elbows, as if trying to keep a hold of herself. She seemed to be losing her grip. "So," he asked her, giving that sly grin again. "How about we go somewhere else…Just you and me?" As his exploring hand found something interesting and worthwhile to touch, the girl was shuddering, and almost panting now. To which Argon said once again, "Delicious." That must have been the deciding factor.
She brought her mouth over to his ear, and harshly whispered, "Upstairs…" He nodded, and let her regain her feet. "I'll be right up." She gave a nervous giggle, and sort of staggered towards the nearby staircase. As she was leaving, Argon couldn't help but congratulate himself. Hah, I still got it.
As he leisurely rose to partake in yet another of his favorite activities, he noticed a bard on stage, strumming a lute, singing in a cracked high voice, about some ancient story that no one cared anything about. It was irritating. Before he left, he picked up his mug, finishing off what little drink there was left, and more or less hurled that metal pitcher right into the bard's head, colliding with a sharp clang, and a distinct snapping sound. The bard fell from his stool, his lute hitting the floor, striking a cord.
"Best thing he's played all day," and up the stairs we went. There were only two rooms upstairs, this inn being a small establishment. One of which was filled with these weird looking men, skinny to the point of sickly with bald heads and pale skin. It was the occupant of the other room that he was interested in. As he opened the door, the serving girl rose from the bed, still trembling all over.
As Argon walked in, shut the door, and locked it behind him, she gave him a shy smile, still obviously fidgety. Without saying anything, she slid out of her dress, letting it hit the floor, giving Argon a full unobstructed view, much to his satisfaction. "Shall we?" he inquired, setting aside his weapon, advancing. She nodded.
Later…
It was perhaps an hour or so later when Argon felt that twinge of desire inside of him again. Not the same kind as before, the pent up need for carnal pleasures. His new woman had certainly aided him in that department. No, now he wanted to see red, and hear those familiar screams. It was a call that was too great. He glanced next to him. The girl was still asleep, a smile on her face. No doubt she had enjoyed it as much as he.
Hope you had gotten your fill, he said to himself, because you're probably never gonna have anything like that again. Normally, whenever he had enjoyed a woman's company, he would part ways by sending them to the next life. This time, he just didn't feel like it. Besides, there were loads of people just downstairs, worthless ants of men that were just waiting to be smashed and crushed beneath his mighty boot.
"Count your blessings…This time you leave alive. For your sake, I hope you don't come downstairs for the next five minutes." Whether she heard him or not in her sleep was unsure, but Argon wasn't going to wait any longer. Times a wasting.
Silently as a shadow, he rose, replacing his armor, securing his helm and sword, stole one last look back at his sleeping girl, and headed back down. As he was descending, someone was coming up. He was a young guy, a lowly peasant by the looks of his clothes, a real pretty boy, blonde hair, blue eyes, a boyish face and a real pissy attitude.
"You must be him," he sputtered as he caught sight of Argon, looking rather angry, "The big guy! Where is she? Where is my Jeina?"
"You mean that pretty waitress? She's upstairs sleeping. Wore her out I guess…"
"You…you beast! She is my finance! How dare you deflower her! A sweet caring woman like her! You robbed her of her innocence! Have you no shame?"
"She was a virgin?" Argon asked aloud, more to himself, "Alright…bonus."
"WHAT! You're a…a savage monster! Such vulgarity knows no bounds! We were to be wed in two weeks…TWO WEEKS and she had promised to be pure for the ceremony! It was her wish! How can she live with that now?"
"Seems to me that she wasn't guarding it quite as well as you claim. It sure didn't take a lot of convincing to get her into the sack. Guess she needed a real man. Besides, I think I've done her a favor. Saves her from having to marry an imbecile like you."
"You insult me now?! Why…I'm going to…"
"Look at the facts here," Argon explained, grinning down at him, "You're some shrimpy little farm boy, and you're picking a fight with someone who is three times your size…You clearly don't have any sense at all." This young boy seemed to suddenly become aware of the difference in their stature. He might have been tall somewhat, but he was skinny and wiry. This man however was a human mountain, solid as stone. Argon's grin turned almost ferocious, as he seized the kid up with a free arm.
"So long," was all the farewell he gave him, and with one strong throw, the hapless boy went sailing back down the stairs, a long drop, landing on his back atop a table, causing it to shatter. There was also a telltale sound of some bone being broken, causing him to yell in agony.
Hardly anyone in the downstairs room paid any attention. Argon came down the rest of the way, and strolled over to the prone farm boy. His back was most likely broken, meaning he would never move again. However, Argon wasn't one to leave things at that. He lifted his boot, and slammed it down on the poor kid's face, with enough force to grind stone to dust. Needless to say, when he lifted his foot, his face was almost completely unrecognizable.
"Hey there," the innkeep called, his voice upset, but with no small amount of fright, "I don't tolerate that sort of behavior here! I suggest that you…" Argon had a proper response. He lifted up an intact table and chucked it across the room, crashing against the bar. The innkeep ducked, as fragments of wood fell every which way. Having drawn blood, Argon entered that famous bloodthirsty Bhaalspawn lust, a need to butcher all around him.
He started with the drunks, using his sword to hack men to pieces, most of whom were far too inebriated to realize what was happening. Not only did he kill, but he tore the place apart as he went along, crushing furniture, gouging up the walls, just causing havoc. Then came the fun part. The people that weren't too drunk to not understand what was going on. The people that were loosing their bladders and screaming in fear.
The barkeep, and a dozen or so patrons were running for the back of the establishment, as if the distance would stop him. There was no stopping him now. He had started, and he wasn't going to quit until there was nothing left. He followed, tearing down doors, crushing all that obstructed him. He finally cornered them in the back kitchen, the cooks having no idea what was going on. Nearly twenty people had their backs to the wall, as he stalked into the room, smiling with a murderous expression, eyes wide and all but glowing with darkness.
They screamed for help, but none came. Here, he didn't even use his sword. He used his mighty hands, his raw physical power to mercilessly pummel the helpless masses into vague humanoid remains, bloodied and torn to pieces. By the time he was done, the room was coated in blood, pools all over the floor, and not a soul was left standing, save the Bhaalspawn.
He was breathing heavily, his eyes bulging, still grinning madly, he too soaked almost down to his skin. He felt alive, he felt animated, he felt so good. To him, nothing at all matched the ecstasy of mass carnage and to rejoice in the blood filled victory. Nothing. And that wasn't over.
As he emerged into the front of the inn, the front door had been busted down, and a small platoon of Amnish guards was present, no doubt having been drawn by the cries for help. Now, having answered the call, they were all paralyzed with revulsion and terror. They were scanning the brutal carnage and unspeakable horror that was just inside, a whole slew of dead drunks, hewed to pieces and scorched beyond identification. There they caught sight of the only living person, the towering armored hulk, covered with blood, a wild and maniacal sneer on his face, silently laughing at their misfortune.
"You there," one called, noticeably shaken, "Drop your sword and surrender at once!"
"No." Not really expecting such a blatant refusal in a situation as this, the man in charge gulped, steeling himself for what was to come.
"Very well. Men, this fiend doesn't deserve to be taken alive. We shall exact justice here and now! At him!" But before they could advance, Argon made the first move. Roaring like a beast from Hell, he drew his flaming swords, and stampeded towards them, ready to slaughter. Caught unprepared, he slammed deep into their ranks, his blade slicing through the abdomen of one soldier, the neck of another, the top of the head of another, and right down the middle of another.
The few that remained attempted to block any further attacks, but their plain wooden spears were laughable weapons at best, the magical sword splintered them all, and charring them like kindling, before digging deep into the remaining troops bodily parts. It was a quite massacre indeed.
But with no more people to kill, Argon at last began to settle down. His eyes came back to their normal black, he caught his breath, and he could once again think coherently. The first thing he did was to gaze back at his handiwork. "Ah…I needed that. Now then, lets see if I can't see if there is some more fun to dig up." He felt so much better after his trip to the inn. After all, he had gotten access to his three favorite of things. Food, sex, and killing. He just couldn't get enough of them. But now it was time to move on.
He exited the inn, still covered in blood, and decided to hunt for the exit to the Promenade. He walked through one of the many arches, his gore-soaked appearance turning heads, and causing many people to not so discretely flee in the opposite direction. Argon was ready to explore Athkatla a bit more, but there was a tiny problem. He hadn't ever been there before, so he wasn't sure of the city's layout. He wasn't one to hire a guide, so he opted to ask for directions.
He spied an Amnish guard at one of the exits to the Promenade, all by himself, who was watching Argon from a distance. Perhaps he thought he looked like a suspicious character. Whatever could have made him think such a thing? As the blood-covered giant approach, he began to fidget. One must applaud the man for his nerves, as he tried to keep his composure. "What is it…citizen?"
"Sorry to bother, but I was just thinking, what with you being a guard around here, that you might know the layout of the city enough to give me some bearings?"
"I'm a sentry not a signpost. I have other things to do than give out directions." Argon merely gave him a raised eyebrow, his face hardening. Sensing that irritating a gargantuan man covered in blood was not a real wise decision, the watchman intelligently decided to change his mind. "But…since you're new here, I guess I can answer. What are you looking for?" A good question, Argon wasn't even sure what he was looking for. Did he want rich or poor? It didn't really matter to him, killing one was nearly the same as killing another. Of course, rich jerks tended to whine more.
"What part of this city is the most decrepit? The lowest of the low?"
"That would be the Slums. Just to the west of here. The most vulgarity and infidelity that this whole capital has to offer. I'd steer clear of it altogether if I were you. Nothing but thieves, murderers, and bums."
"I see. And what about just the opposite of that? Where are all the rich pompous assholes located?"
"Yes…ahem, you must mean the…the nobles. Well, several of them are located in the Government District, just to the north of here. Of course, you'll have to cross through the Bridge District to get there, and that'd be something else I'd avoid. There's been some trouble up there lately I hear."
"Hmm, might be worth checking out. But I think you've sparked my interest with the Slums. Sounds like a charming place. You can't beat them."
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you. By the way, and I hate to be…well, nosy, but where did all that blood come fro…" Argon didn't let him finish his question, and nonchalantly backhanded the guardsman, the force of the blow twisting his neck, enough to cause it to snap. He collapsed in a pile with a crash. "Thanks for the info little buddy. I guess I'm off."