Plomistis used his newfound wealth well. He pawned the red gems off on some shady feline near the west edge. Once all was said and done, she'd payed him nearly 7,000 marks. He didn't ask where she got the money. She didn't ask where he got the gems. All things considered, it was a very professional exchange.
Coin in pocket, and revenge on the mind, the panther found himself in need of some new weapons. The flintlock on his belt had served him well, but his enemy seemingly had hordes of hired guards, and this panda, whoever he was, was one hell of a brawler. This would be no easy fight. Yes, some new guns were most certainly in order.
Weapons were easy to come by in Volans, if one knew where to look, but something told Plomistis that this fight would require a very particular arsonal. No run of the mill muskets and pistols would do. The panther wanted something military. Something illegal.
While Volans was hardly a spotless city, this was a tall order, even for someone as clever as Plomistis. He knew a couple guys that might have been able to get him what he needed, but finding them was a whole different story. There was an old bear who typically worked out of abandoned boiler rooms beneath the south edge. He was a good start. Unless of course the police, or Fireclaw had caught up to him and taken the poor guy's merchandise. This was a real possibility. It seemed that everyone had use for illegally imported Chorian guns.
It took a couple days, but eventually Plomistis hunted the guy down. An old, one eyed, mole pointed the panther in the direction of the arm dealer's most recent storefront, the ratty remains of a wine cellar some rich dragon built before the economy went south. The entrance was covered in garbage, presumably to ward away any unwanted visitors. Plomistis almost smiled to himself as he pushed away the filth, this was just like his first gig. Some things never change.
"Hunter," The panther called, throwing open the wooden door, and stooping into the cellar. Hunter, named after the old war hero from Spyro's day, was in worse shape than ever. Since Plomistis had last seen him, the bear had lost most of his left ear, and gained at least three new scars. He walked with a heavy limp, and one of his eyes only opened half way. There was a large bald spot near the top of the his head, and Plomistis couldn't quite tell it its cause was age, illness or injury.
"You," Hunter snarled with a voice made of tobacco smoke, as the panther moved further into dark, cramped room, "Get the hell outta my shop."
The bears' 'shop' was a pit carved out beneath the slums, just a few meters above the boiler rooms that helped propel the city. It was lit entirely by candlelight, as the entrance was covered over by a slab of sheet metal, and, apparently, Hunter didn't have the budget for gas lighting. On the walls were rows and rows of muskets, and a couple old rifles. In the corner sat cases of paper cartridges, and a couple barrels of powder. Several more sheets of metal were laid against the back wall, presumably leftovers from whomever had previously inhabited the pit. The whole place reeked of tobacco and stale beer.
"You'd chase away a paying customer?" Plomistis cocked his head to the side with a soft grin.
"Last time I sold to you, you payed in cheap vodka and iou's."
Plomistis strode forwards and dropped a bag of coins onto the rotting wooden crate that was pretending to be a counter, "If I recall correctly, this should cover my debt?"
The bear raised an eyebrow, but opened the bag regardless. He spent several minutes counting, and recounting the coins. Finally, he looked back up at Plomistis, "Yeah, this does it," Hunter paused a moment, "What can I do ya for?"
"I need something modern," Plomistis tossed the flintlock pistol he'd been carrying at his hip next to the bag of money, "This isn't cutting it."
The bear laughed a sharp, harsh laugh that very quickly turned into a coughing fit, "That hasn't cut it in a long time, kid. How the 'ell you managed to get so famous using that?"
"I know how to use it."
"Yeah, yeah, sure," The bear turned, waving his paw dismissively in the air, "Well, son, I'm about to make ya life a lot easier," He paused, "Well? You comin' or what?"
It was then that Plomistis noticed that the sheet metal leaning against the back wall was actually hiding some sort of entrance. Hunter moved said covering, revealing a second room carved out of the concrete. This room was slightly smaller, and pitch black. "Where's the damn..." Hunter grumbled absently. There was a pause, then a click, followed by a sudden, single, electric light springing to life.
All along the walls of this backroom were the illegal guns Hunter was famous for. Military grade technology. "Straight from the trenches of the Choran border wars," the bear once boasted. Breech loading rifles, revolvers, and even a new bolt action, all hung, displayed quite extravagantly for such illicit merchandise.
Plomistis whistled gently. Hunter turned and grinned at him, "This, m'boy, is a real man's arsenal."
Suishou touched down in the middle of a crowded market street, out of breath, and in pain, but victorious. She wasn't quite sure when she'd lost Lila, but the purple dragon was clearly the inferior flier. With a self satisfied grin, the blue scaled dragoness moved quickly to the edges of the crowd, and collapsed against brick wall. For several minutes she rested, gulping in air, drinking in victory.
It didn't take long before she grew curious as to the whereabouts of her best friend. The purple dragon was normally a strong flier. It wasn't like her to lose by so much. Suishou shrugged off her worry. Lila had probably just set down elsewhere in the residential district. She decided she'd go looking for the purple dragon after she caught her breath.
After a few minutes, Suishou climbed to her feet. She should probably start looking for her friend. The poor purple dragon was probably being swarmed by curious onlookers. The ice dragon trotted along the familiar streets, looking for crowds formed to gawk at a newly arrived purple dragon.
It was weird being back. The noise, and the crowds. The smog and stench. The familiar ugly streets, and familiar stuck up people. Suishou was already missing the Temple. She was already missing home. She took a deep breath, and shook her head. Volans is home again, she told herself. There was nothing to be done about it.
Some time passed. Suishou wasn't sure how long she searched for, but after wandering aimlessly for what felt like more than an hour, she started to worry. What could have happened to Lila? She couldn't have gotten lost on her way to the city. No, the flying behemoth was too large to miss. Maybe someone had caught her flying off the ship and gave chace? A possibility, but, Suishou reasoned, wouldn't they have come after me too? Maybe the purple dragon had gotten distracted by something among the floating isles. She never did have much of an attention span. Although, Lila would never lose a race, if she could help it. Suishou scratched out that possibility.
"Damnit," the ice dragoness grumbled out loud. Then something occurred to her. Lila had probably put down at the edges of the city. The slums made a ring around the richer city interior, at a couple locations reaching nearly a mile incity. It would be easy for a first time visitor to be unaware of this fact.
"Shit..." Suishou turned and sprinted towards the west end of the city. If Lila had landed in the slums, Suishou had to find her now. The Purple Dragon would inevitably fetch quite the price in the underground trafficking rings. Although, if someone as high profile as Lila went missing, the police would be all over it. It was unlikely that anyone would be dumb enough to risk it. Still, it's not a chance the ice dragoness was willing to take. Not when it was her best friend at stake.
She bounded past the tall buildings, with their garishly elaborate, cobblestone walls, and sloped, and steepled, shingled roofs. Suishou pushed through the crowds, ignoring the indigent cries of richly dressed passersby. She didn't even bother to apologize when she knocked over a tall, well groomed ice dragoness.
"Excuse me!?" The woman snapped in a heavy Chorian accent, much like Suishou's, "What kind of rabble raised y..." The woman paused, "Suishou!?"
Suishou skidded to a halt. She recognized that voice. She'd just made a horrible, horrible mistake. The ice dragoness forced a sheepish grin, and turned to face the woman she'd just knocked over, "Heeeeeeeeeey sis."
A/N: Well. At least this chapter didn't take me half a year.