Another day, another chapter. So review response time first! OutlastTheDark; you'll learn more about the assassin's soon my friend, don't you worry. And Goblin's are kinda vain if you think about it, so they think they can solve everything. Now, on with the show!
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Chapter 4- The Attempt
When the three riders had arrived at Booty Bay, the sun was only just beginning to set. Night soon covered the Port Town, though the late hours did little to quell the activity in Booty Bay. When they had arrived at the local Inn, they saw a Forsaken Warhorse stabled nearby, a good sign in their eyes. They had then met with one of their contacts at the harbour, who supplied the trio with a suitable leverage device for the Goblin known as Howitz Flashbang, the last known employer of Malic Felshroud.
He was more then willing to part with the information, even without the monetary compensation. According to the Goblin, Malic was staying at the 'Salty Sailor Tavern' for the night and would be leaving the following morning. More then enough time.
"Where the hell did he go?!" the Forsaken seethed, looking around sharply as she waited outside the Tavern entrance with her Orcish compatriot.
"How should I know?!" the Orc replied, growling loudly as he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "He said he would be two minutes."
"That was an hour ago!" the Forsaken spat, spinning around and glaring at the Orc who only returned the stare.
"Bah who cares where he is?! Clearly the Pink-Skinned Human filth has turned into a Yellow Bellied Coward!" the Orc shouted, before lowering his mask slightly and spitting on the floor in disgust.
"Perhaps you're right..." the Forsaken murmured, stealing a glance to see if the Human was still anywhere to be seen. "The Master will be most displeased with this..."
"We can tell her once Malic is dead!" the Orc answered, before gesturing to the Tavern behind him. "Now let's hurry up and deal with this cur! I can't stand the stench of fish for much longer!"
The Forsaken nodded in agreement, quickly entering the tavern, followed by the Orc. The tavern was filled to the brim, mostly by low key Adventurers and Pirates all drinking and laughing, some in deep conversation. The stench of beer and other alcoholic beverages hung in the air as a small group of Goblins played cheery music, adding to the overall atmosphere of the establishment. The two then made their way to the bar, where a Goblin stood, serving drinks to a pair of Adventurers who looked like they'd seen more then enough blood-shed for one day. As soon as the two Adventurers left the bar the Forsaken was quick to march forward towards the Goblin, who turned and leaned on the counter as the two approached.
"Hey there friends! What can I get for ya'?" the Goblin asked in a cheerful tone, completely ignoring the stares he received from the two in question.
"We're looking for someone, can you tell us where to find them?" the Forsaken asked, cutting straight to the point rather then mince words with the Goblin.
"Oh?" the Goblin replied, his ears dropping low for a second before he resumed his cheery demeanour. "Well who are ya' looking for? Perhaps I've seen 'em."
"We're looking for a Forsaken Warlock, goes by the name Malic Felshroud." the Forsaken quickly answered. "He carries a scythe and is accompanied by a Void Lord."
"I think I know who you're looking for..." the Goblin replied, tapping his chin lightly as he spoke.
"Can you take us to him?" the Forsaken then asked, her eyes narrowing in murderous excitement.
"Afraid I can't do that ma'am." the Goblin replied, shaking his head in denial, smirking slightly when the Forsaken's eyes widened.
"What? Why not?! It is in your jurisdiction!" the Forsaken demanded, slamming her fist on the counter, earning a few suspicious stares from those nearby.
"You're right, it is." the Goblin confirmed, crossing his arms smugly. "But you two look like you're here to cause trouble, and I don't do bits and pieces!"
"Why you insufferable little-"
"Why don't you let me handle this?" the Orc quickly interrupted, grasping the Forsaken's shoulder as he pulled her back slightly. "Perhaps I can be a little more...persuasive..."
"If you insist..." the Forsaken hissed, roughly shrugging the Orc's hand off her shoulder as she let the Orc move closer to the counter.
"And you're content with not telling us where Malic Felshroud is?" the Orc asked, leaning forward on the counter slightly.
"Yer' damn right I am!" the Goblin replied, nodding his head sharply as he spoke.
"I see..." the Orc murmured, nodding his own head slightly.
Then he quickly grasped the back of the Goblins head and slammed it down on the counter, causing a loud crack to emanate around the tavern followed quickly by a scream of pain, silencing the Inn. When the Orc lifted the Goblin's head up, his nose was crushed and a small splatter of blood rested on the counter. The Orc then threw the Goblin forward, causing him to crumple against the wall of the tavern as the Orc leapt over the counter and proceeded to pummel the Goblin. This action did not go unnoticed by the other occupants as another Orc and a Human rushed up, only for the Forsaken to intercept them. The Orc charged forward first, raising an axe over his head to split the Forsaken in two. The Forsaken caught the Orc by the wrist, kneeing him in the gut before kicking him into the Human, sending both tumbling to the ground. As the Orc attempted to rise, he suddenly found a long black blade resting against his throat, gently pushing him to the ground. None dared move after that, not willing to risk the lives of the downed Orc and Human, alongside their own. The Orc then picked the Goblin up by the scruff of his neck and flung him onto the counter, his face barely recognisable as a dagger rested upon his throat.
"How about now?" the Orc seethed, pushing the blade further against the Goblin's throat.
"He's...he's in second room on the right...first floor..." the Goblin managed to say, coughing up a handful of blood.
"Now see, that wasn't so hard was it?" the Orc replied, releasing his grip on the Goblin as he sheathed the dagger in his hands. "Come on, he'll have heard all that..."
The Forsaken nodded as she quickly sheathed her blade, turning on her heels and joining her Orcish companion up the stairs as the once pleasant atmosphere returned to the Tavern. As the two ascended the stairs, they stopped at the second door on the right, standing either side of the frame.
"Are you ready?" the Forsaken whispered, quickly drawing a crossbow from her back and loading a bolt into it. The Orc nodded in response, drawing his own crossbow, the bolt already loaded. "On the count of three. One...two...three!"
The Orc then kicked the door open as the two rushed in, firing their crossbows which hit a figure snuggled into the lone bed in the room with a soft thud. The two then lowered their crossbows, the Forsaken gesturing to the Orc to remove the coverings so they could identify the target. His crossbow still trained on the figure, which he had now reloaded, he swiftly moved towards the figure and pulled the bed sheets back, only for a cloud of feathers to fly up in his face. The Orc swung wildly in air, only for rage to overcome him as the feathers settled, resting on a number of pillows that had been shaped into the form of a Humanoid.
"Damn it! The bastard knew we were coming!" the Orc growled, flinging the bed sheet in his hand furiously on the floor.
"His horse was still in the stable!" the Forsaken replied, her own tone one of anger. "If we hurry we should-"
The doors suddenly closed shut with a loud bang, causing both occupants to turn sharply towards the door as the sound of a lock clicking was heard. The two quickly dropped their weapons as they lunged for the door, the handle as stiff as a corpse.
"Why won't the damn door move?!" the Orc growled, slamming his frame against the door in a wild attempt to open it.
"Perhaps it has something to do with me!"
The two turned at the sound of the voice, only to go stiff as a large Void Lord came into view, the Demon cackling loudly as it began to grow larger. The Demon then cracked its knuckles as it it leaned closer to the two, who's backs were now up against the wall.
"Shall we play a game?"
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The tavern once again grew silent as screams of both pain and horror echoed around the tavern, followed by the sound of a Demon tearing them apart...slowly by the sounds of it. The battered Goblin winced slightly as the screams continued, turning quickly to one of the shadowed corners of the tavern.
"I trust I did good boss?" the Goblin asked, a forced smile gracing his swollen face.
Malic quickly exited the shadows, striding forward towards the Goblin before patting him gently on the head. "I believe so. You held up your end of the bargain, so now I shall hold up mine."
Malic then removed a small coin pouch from his belt, dropping it on the counter with a light thud, the sound of coins clinking faintly also heard.
"For your troubles..." Malic stated, turning to leave when an extremely painful sounding scream suddenly echoed around them, causing the Warlock to wince slightly as the sound of bone shattering was heard. Malic then removed another small coin pouch from his belt, placing it next to the one already present. "In case he breaks anything of value..."
Malic then strode quickly through the tavern, ascending the stairs as the band returned to playing the tavern music as the atmosphere returned. Malic paused outside the room that Khamû was having his way with the two individuals. The Warlock chuckled as he then entered the room on his left, quickly opening it and leaning his scythe against the wall, sighing loudly as he stretched his arms, the sounds of bones popping following shortly afterwards. Malic then pulled his hood back, letting what was left of his long black hair fall down his back as he removed the bone mask covering what was left of his face. Malic flexed his jaw as he observed his near skeletal face in a nearby mirror, grunting slightly in disappointment at his reflection.
"I'm going to need a new jaw..." Malic muttered, prodding the rapidly decaying appendage gently.
As he continued to observe his reflection, he heard the sound of wood creaking in the corner. Turning sharply with narrowed eyes, Malic eyed his surroundings as he growled lowly. Suddenly, a figure leapt from the shadows, a sword drawn and raised above their head. Malic quickly side stepped the figure, the sword becoming stuck in the table Malic had been stood at. As the Assassin attempted to tug the weapon free, Malic quickly kneed him in the stomach, only to grunt in slight pain when his knee hit metal plating.
The figure then backhanded Malic, causing the Warlock to stumble backwards, where he quickly pulled himself up off the floor. Turning rapidly, he saw that the Assassin had pulled the blade free, and was now pacing around like a caged animal, his eyes never leaving Malic.
"I was wondering where the third one was..." Malic muttered, twisting his neck slightly as the bones popped back into place.
"You really thought that I would be as foolish as my compatriot's?" the Assassin chuckled, who Malic could now tell was a Human.
"Considering you left your steed's in plain sight right next to mine, absolutely." Malic replied, his hands flexing as dark energies travelled up his arm.
"Well then I'm sorry to disappoint." the Human stated, twirling the sword in his hand as he watched Malic.
"Why are you hunting me?" Malic then asked, his gaze shifting slightly as he eyed his scythe still leaning against the wall.
"Oh you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?" the Assassin sneered, chuckling slightly when Malic growled in response. "My lips are sealed. Besides, you'll be dead shortly so I'd only just be wasting my breath."
"No matter," Malic seethed as the dark energies continued to build up in his hands. "I'll just tear the secrets from your cold corpse!"
Malic then sent a blast of shadow energy at the Assassin, who leaned back as the bolt sailed past his head, staining the wooded door with shadow magic. The Assassin then lunged forward, his blade held close to his chest as he swung out at the Warlock, who staggered backwards as he dodged the blow. Malic then sent a smaller bolt of energy at the Assassin, hitting his left arm, causing him to seethe in pain as he clutched the limb. Malic used this as an opportunity to strike, punching the Assassin in the softer parts of his armour.
The Assassin finally retaliated, kicking Malic in the gut and swinging wildly with the blade in an attempt to hit him. Malic ducked and weaved through the blows, making sure to keep his distance from the blade. When the Assassin raised the blade over his head to deliver an overhead strike, Malic charged forward, tackling the Assassin to the ground, causing him to drop the weapon. As the Assassin attempted to rise, Malic punched the him in the face, causing him to grunt loudly in pain. Then he leaned over and grasped the Assassin's injured arm, digging his fingers into the seared flesh and causing him to scream in pain.
"Who hired you?!" Malic shouted, digging his claw like fingers deeper into the Assassin's arm, who thrashed wildly on the floor.
"I don't...break so...easily!" the Assassin seethed before he continued to scream in pain.
"We'll see..." Malic murmured, dark energies coursing through his fingers and entering the wound, renewing the Assassin's screams of pain. "Now tell me!"
"You'll...never know..." the Assassin muttered, before he swung his free hand forward, hitting Malic square in the jaw and causing him to tumble to the ground.
The Assassin was quick on his feet, growling loudly as he nursed the arm, quickly unsheathing a dagger strapped to his back. Slowly, Malic rose from the floor, turning around to face the Assassin, one of the hinges of his jaw snapped in half. Malic growled loudly as he sharply pulled the jaw free, his eyes narrowed as he crushed the now useless appendage in his hands.
The Assassin charged forward, the dagger raised above his head. Malic caught the Assassin's wrist, kicking him in the groin. The Assassin groaned in pain as he keeled over, staggering back as he nursed his groin. Malic then reached for his scythe, grasping hold of it with both hands and swinging it down on the Assassin. The Assassin fell forward with a loud thud, the blade planting him to the ground. Malic waited for any sign of movement from the Assassin, yet none came. Deciding to play it safe, Malic plucked the dagger from his limp hand and planted it in the back of his skull.
The door suddenly swung open, causing Malic to turn sharply in surprise, only to relax when he saw Khamû carrying the limp remains of the other two Assassin's.
"Master! Are you all right?" Khamû asked, dropping the bodies with a loud thud.
Malic held out his hand as he nodded in response. Quickly turning, he moved towards a drawer next to the bed, plucking out a small metal case he had saved for such an occasion. He quickly opened the box, revealing a metal jaw he carried with him such an emergency occur. After fumbling about with the appendage, he slotted the new jaw in, flexing his jaw as he tested it out.
"I'll live, Khamû...though I liked that jaw." Malic finally replied, recoiling slightly as he felt his tongue touch the cold metal.
"So I see..." Khamû muttered, quickly grabbing the two cadavers he had carried with him by what remained of their ankles before shutting the door.
"I trust you had fun?" Malic asked, turning to face Khamû as he tugged the scythe free from the dead Assassin.
"Indeed, though I found something rather intriguing on both their persons..." Khamû responded, holding his arm out and unfurling his clawed hand, two small black broaches resting in it. "They both carried this broach, and I would assume that this individual also carried one."
Malic knelt down next to the dead Assassin, pushing the body to the side as he observed the front of the Assassin's body. True to Khamû's assumption, a broach was attached to his chest plate. Tearing it from the leather strap it was attached to, Malic observed the broach for any distinguishable signs. The broach was pure black, a pair of scythes crossed over one another whilst dead in the centre was a fanged skull.
"Do you recognise this symbol?" Malic asked, showing the broach to Khamû.
"I was hoping you would..." Khamû replied, shaking his head solemnly in the process.
Malic growled in disappointment at the statement, though he figured as much. Turning to study the broach yet again, Malic let out a sigh before turning to face Khamû.
"Then I think we have a problem..."
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That's it for this chapter. Just a heads up, I now have a DeviantArt account called 'RagingArchon' where I post drawings related to mine and other Fan-Fictions. Liked it? Leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either PM me or leave in your reviews and I'll answer them.
Raging Archon out.