Elder Justice
…
Chapter 2: Fight Night
The Dragonborn woke up to the unfamiliar sound of roars that at first reminded him of a Dwemer ruin, but different at the same time. Rising from his bed, the warrior stretched, feeling his bones pop as they did. Once the kinks in his muscles had been loosened and his limbs were looser, the Slayer of Alduin put his helmet back on his head, tightening the strap under his chin.
Collecting his room key, the warrior left the room he'd bought for the night, deposited the key at the reception before making his way onto the street. The rancid smell of decaying trash mingling with the acrid smell of smoke hit the warrior's nose almost making him gag, but he then promptly ignored the pungent stench and headed down the street.
For a while, the Dragonborn wandered aimlessly down the street, no destination in mind since he did not know what city or land he was even in. Passers-by walked around, fearful looks as they saw a heavily armoured knight in black armour walking down the pavement.
Passing a woman with a pixie cut of dark hair and wearing something that the Dragonborn would akin to a street walker, the warrior felt her bump into him.
"Oh, sorry 'bout that!" the woman apologised with a friendly smile.
The Dragonborn then lunged with one hand, grabbing the woman's and lifted her wrist up to see in her grasp, his satchel. "Pickpocketing is a crime, is it not?" he asked dryly.
"Okay, big guy, you caught me," the would thief grinned widely, showing twin rows of white teeth. "Whaddya say we just walk away from this, and no harm is done?" she offered.
"Hm." The warrior took back his satchel, hefting it in his hand for a moment before staring at the pickpocket who pouted and turned over a ruby she'd hidden in her other hand.
"You're no fun…"
The Hero of Skyrim took back the ruby before examining it then looked at the thief and said, "How'd you like to earn this one?"
"Really? What do you have in mind?" the thief replied.
"Need somewhere I can find something to eat for a start, then some information as to where I am. In no particular order."
"Well, I can certainly help with that," the woman said agreeably. "Down the road from here is a place called Tom's Diner; nothing fancy, but if you're not too fussy, he can fix ya up for some food. And as for where you are, you're in Gotham City," she informed the warrior.
"Gotham City… which is where?" the Slayer of Alduin prompted.
"New Jersey, USA," came the answer.
"Haven't heard of it," the warrior said plainly.
"Really?" the pickpocket raised an eyebrow. "You from out of town?" she asked.
"Something like that, yes," came the dry reply from the Dragonborn.
"Well, welcome to Gotham, then," the woman said with an amused look in her green eyes. "So, have I earned my reward?" she asked silkily.
"Have a nice day," the warrior said handing over the ruby which the woman gleefully pocketed. The Hero of Skyrim then walked off to which the woman shouted to him, "Hey!" The warrior looked over his shoulder at her.
"You never said your name!"
"Call me Dragonborn," the warrior stated.
"Name's Selina!" the thief shouted back before hurrying off down the street.
"Hm." The Dragonborn then continued on, not giving the thief, Selina, another thought.
Finding the place that the pickpocket told him of, the warrior entered the diner where some of the patrons all looked up from their meals with curious and cautious looks in their eyes. The Dragonborn ignored the stares and walked up the counter where the waitress, a middle-aged woman wearing a uniform and had tired, cynical eyes looked at the warrior in a deadpan sort of way.
"What'll it be?" she asked flatly.
"What do you have?"
With a snort, the waitress handed over a menu which the Dragonborn began to read. Much of the food items listed weren't familiar to him. About the only thing that looked familiar was the bacon and eggs. "I'll take the bacon and eggs, please," the warrior requested.
"How do you want your eggs?"
"Cooked."
The waitress raised an eyebrow at this before asking, "Want a cup of joe to go with it?"
"No, thank you," the Dragonborn replied politely.
"Coming right up," the waitress then said as she passed the order along to the kitchen. The warrior took a seat at one of the tables and waited. Twenty minutes later, the waitress walked over with a plate of bacon and eggs and placed it in front of the warrior. "That'll be eighteen dollars and thirty cents," she informed.
"Do you take gold?" the warrior asked.
"Huh? Gold? You yanking my chain?" the waitress looked at him disbelievingly.
The Dragonborn then pulled out a gold septim which made the waitress's eyes widen in surprise. "Is that…?" she tried to say.
"Gold, yes. Is it acceptable currency here?" the warrior asked.
The waitress smiled widely, nodding eagerly. "Yeah! Order whatever you like! I'm here to serve!" she said with excitement.
"Very well," the Dragonborn replied handing over nineteen gold septims which nearly made the waitress faint on the spot as the warrior handed them to her.
The other patrons who had all been watching the exchange all stared at the warrior who had removed his helmet and began to eat. A slight grimace was on the warrior's face as he ate; the bacon was a little too greasy and the eggs were a little overdone, but better than having an empty stomach to march on. After finishing his meal withing seconds, the slayer of Alduin sat back in his seat and contemplated his situation. As far as he knew he was in another dimension and with seemingly no way to return. He would need to find a mage or a magical institution that could perhaps help him return home, but where would he look for such a place?
Then the door swung open, ringing the small bell above and walking in were some rough looking thugs wearing something that the Dragonborn guessed were gang colours. The colours being black and white; the symbol of a black bird on a field of white. Almost everyone in the diner all looked away fearfully, as if trying to look invisible. The waitress who had served the Dragonborn looked afraid and called out to the kitchen, "Tom? Company!"
Then Tom, the owner the Dragonborn presumed, walked out. Tom looked a little on the chubby side wearing a somewhat grease-stained shirt and apron. "Hey, boys. Been a while. You in for some breakfast?" he asked meekly.
The leader of the 'boys' sneered at the owner before replying, "You know why we're here, Tommy-boy. You ain't made your usual donation this week! And you know Mr Cobblepot doesn't like it when he isn't paid on time!" A wicked sneering grin was on the leader's face as he spoke the words.
"Oh, c'mon, Larry! Times are tough! I'm barely scraping by as is!" Tom said pleadingly. "I don't want to cause Mr Cobblepot no problems! I'll pay him as soon as I have the money!" he added.
"Heheh, we see your laps flapping, Tommy-boy, but they ain't making the sound we want 'em to make!" Larry replied with a grin as he pulled out a forked baton at which the ends sparked with lightning.
The Dragonborn hummed as he contemplated the situation; it was obvious that this Mr Cobblepot was a crime lord of some kind, and he was running a protection racket. Tom seemed to be late on a payment and was now about to pay the price for it. A small part of the warrior wanted to let the situation play out and not have anything to do with it, but one of the thugs noticed him looking and rudely asked, "What's your problem, pal?"
The Dragonborn stared back silently and evenly. "Hey! You 'ard of hearing or something? I asked you a question!" the thug snarled as he walked over to the warrior. "What? You think you're hot shit not talking?!" he demanded angrily as he pulled out a knife.
The Dragonborn narrowed his eyes before slowly rising to his feet. The thug then swallowed a lump in his throat as he realised just how much taller the warrior was than him. "Uhh, guys?" the thug said to his compatriots meekly as the Dragonborn stared down at him.
"Hey! Who the fuck are you?!" Larry asked looking at the warrior who stared. "Sit your ass down! Don't be a fucking hero! Or else everyone here gets it!" he threatened.
The Dragonborn stared flatly at Larry, silent and imposing. Larry was seeming to lose his nerve before he mustered up whatever bravado he had left and shouted, "Don't stand there gawking, you dumbasses! Rush him!"
A few moments later, the Dragonborn held Larry up by the neck against the wall of the diner. All of Larry's friends were comatose on the floor, their limbs and teeth broken and their bodies heavily bruised. "H-hey now! We can, ack, come to an agreement, right?" the thug choked out as the Dragonborn's iron grip tightened around his throat.
"Where do I find your boss?" the warrior asked plainly.
"Urgh! The, ack, Final Offer! Dixon Docks!" Larry gasped out. "That's where he'll be today! That's all I know, I swear!" he said.
"Hm." The Dragonborn then released Larry who slid down the wall, gasping for breath and rubbing his throat. "Go to your boss and tell him that this place is off limits and that I'll be seeming very soon. Do you understand?" he asked the thug.
"Y-Yes! I'll tell him right away!" Larry babbled out as he scrambled out of the diner on all fours before getting to his feet and ran off.
The Dragonborn watched for a moment before looking at the owner of the diner. "Sorry you had to see that. I don't like people who shake down other people for money," he admitted.
"You just made things worse!" Tom lamented. "Cobblepot won't stand for it. Now I'm gonna lose everything! You shoulda stayed out of it!"
"I will deal with Cobblepot for you," the Dragonborn promised. "In the meantime, send for the guards and have this riffraff arrested for disturbing the peace," he said as he put on his helmet and left the diner.
Leaving the diner, the warrior said to himself, "The Final Offer. At Dixon Docks. A ship of some kind." Drawing on his magicka, the hero cast the clairvoyance spell; almost immediately a ghostly powder blue trail of smoke streaked out, showing the quickest path to the hero of Skyrim. With a nod of understanding, the Dragonborn set off, following the trail his spell showed.
…
The Final Offer. Dixon Docks.
Within a couple of hours, the Dragonborn had reached the docks where his clairvoyance spell led him to a massive ship wrought of painted steel. Although impressed by the fact that the ship was made of metal rather than wood, the Dragonborn had more important things on his mind. Walking up the ramp that led to the deck, the slayer of Alduin was stopped by two guards.
"Hey! Private property! You ain't allowed here!" one the thugs said as he hefted a metal club in his hands.
"I want to see your employer, Mr Cobblepot his name is I believe," the Dragonborn stated.
"Yeah? What's your business then?" the second thug asked mockingly.
"A certain place of business with a certain financial arrangement; I wish to see it resolved," the Dragonborn replied.
The two ruffians looked at each for a moment before the first one said, "Wait here." He walked off a short a distance and pulled out an odd device and spoke into. The Dragonborn's keen hearing heard every word spoken from the ruffian and the voice that answered from the device in his grasp.
"Boss. Got some weirdo out there. Wants to do business with you," the thug said.
"He one of our regulars?" came the voice from the small black box.
"Nah. Looks like some kinda medieval times cosplayer. Like I said; a weirdo."
"Frisk him and bring him straight to me!"
"Yessir, Mr Cobblepot." The thug walked back over to the Dragonborn who waited patiently. "Alright. Hand over any weapons you got and don't try anything funny now!" the thug ordered him.
The Dragonborn handed over his sword to the thug and said to him, "I'll want that back soon."
"Umm, sure," the thug said as he held the weapon and stored it within a nearby locker. "Alright. Foller me."
The Dragonborn was then led inside the ship where it was lavishly furnished, and the lights were almost garishly bright as the warrior was led through what seemed to be a casino of some kind. Ignoring the sights of people gambling and frittering their money away, the Dragonborn then took note of some odd individuals dotted about the place. A man with one half of his face heavily scarred and burned almost to the bone, wearing a black and white suit flipped a silver coin in the air, an air of boredom about him. A thin gangly looking man wearing a green suit with a question mark motif on the fabric smiled slyly as he played with some sort of puzzle device in his hands. A beautiful woman with crimson hair, pale green skin and a bodice made almost entirely out of leaves and vines glanced over at the warrior curiously who paid her no mind. A tall man wearing an immaculate white suit and a mask made of black material in the design of a human skull sat at one of the tables, flanked by two well-dressed thugs looked at the warrior appraisingly. And the pickpocket the Dragonborn had encountered earlier this day, Selina, sat beside a meek looking auburn haired woman wearing spectacles. Selina looked surprised to see the Dragonborn but gave a friendly wave which the Dragonborn gave a tiny nod of his head as he continued to follow his guide through the gambling hall.
Walking up a flight of stairs, they soon came to a large double door. The thug knocked on it loudly and spoke, "Mr Cobblepot? I brought the guy like you asked!"
A voice came in slightly muffled by the wooden doors, "Send 'im in and return to yer post!"
"Yes sir!" The thug opened the door and the Dragonborn walked into a lavishly decorated office. Clearly this Cobblepot was the sort who wanted to show off his wealth and status by displaying the most expensive furniture and decorations money could buy. A stuff bear stood in one corner, a well-stocked bar lined the wall, a tiger skin rug was laid out on the floor, paintings hung on the walls and large mahogany desk was situated at the end of the office. And seated on a lavish looking chair was a short portly looking man wearing a suit obviously tailored to fit him impeccably, drinking from a glass filled with undoubtedly high-end liquor and taking the occasional drag of a fine-looking cigar. The man's facial appearance highlighted a demeanour of a powerful well-connected crime lord used to getting his way; a long almost beak-like nose protruded from the centre of his jowly face, his jaw was clean shaven, and his hair was dark, greasy and receding into a widow's peak. Standing close by the man was a taller but attractive looking woman with dark caramel skin, perfectly coifed dark hair done in a neat bun and wearing a short cut black suit with a small pencil skirt and a pair of thin rimmed spectacles were perched on her narrow nose.
"You are Mr Cobblepot, I presume?" the Dragonborn asked getting down to brass tacks.
Mr Cobblepot took a drag of his cigar and blew out a stream of smoke, filling the air with the scent of burning tobacco before saying, "And you must be the weirdo wanting to resolve a financial matter with me." His tone was rough but educated and by educated that meant he must've spent time in rough circles among thieves and other criminals. "So, what may I ask is this financial matter you want resolved?" he then asked as he smiled a shark's toothy grin.
"Tom's Diner," the Dragonborn replied instantly.
Cobblepot raised a thin eyebrow before asking, "What about it?"
"You're shaking the owner of the place down. I'd like you to stop," the Dragonborn stated.
Cobblepot stared at the warrior before chuckling then going into full-on raucous laughter, "That's a good one! C'mon, tell me what yer really here for."
"I seldom joke," the Dragonborn said evenly.
"Oh. You are series, aren't you?" Cobblepot asked as he set his liquor glass down on the desk in front of him. "Fact of the matter is; Ole Tom's been late on his payments. He's built up quite a bit of debt as it were. Debtors belong in prison. I'm doing 'im a favour. Ain't I, Candy?" he said looking at the woman in the room.
"Indeed, Mr Cobblepot. Those who can't pay their debts can expect a hefty sentence in prison," Candy said with a light smile.
"Too true, my dear. But, since you seem so serious, would you be willing to settle the debt for Ole Tom, then?" Cobblepot looked at the Dragonborn.
As the warrior prepared to ask what the amount of the debt was, the door to the office swung open and walking in on stiletto high heels wearing a similar dress suit to Candy coloured white was another attractive woman with pale skin and almost white blonde hair done in a funky cut. "Boss, we got a problem. One of the fighters chickened out on us," she said to Cobblepot.
"Bloody hell! You find that little wanker and break his goddamn arms and legs!" the short man bellowed angrily. "Nobody pulls this kinda shit on me! Nobody!" he ranted.
"Yeah, but we still ain't got no main attraction for the ponces out there to bet their greedy little hearts out," the blonde haired woman replied before looking at the Dragonborn and asked, "Who's the Conan cosplayer?"
"Some bleeding heart who thinks he can persuade our boss to forgive a debt," Candy said dryly.
"Really, now? Ain't you a regular knight in shining armour," the blonde woman drawled out almost mockingly before she looked the Dragonborn over appraisingly. She then asked, "Can he fight? Or is the armour all show?"
Cobblepot grinned at this and nodded. "Now there's an idea, Tracey," he congratulated her before looking at the Dragonborn and said to him, "Tell you what, I'll cut ya a deal; win three rounds in the boiler deck fight and I'll forgive Ole Tom's debt. That sound good?"
"Just three and I win?" the Dragonborn asked, although he knew that this had to be a setup of some kind.
"O'course! Win three and Tom goes free. Do we have deal?" Cobblepot extended a hand to shake.
"Deal." The Dragonborn clasped his hand in Cobblepot's, taking some enjoyment in the wince of pain from the little man as he squeezed firmly.
…
A few minutes later, the Dragonborn stood at one end of the boiler deck, stripped down save for his greaves and boots as Tracey began to announce the event.
"Ladies and gents! Boys and girls! We've got a special event for you! Standing before is a newcomer to our little slice of paradise! The mighty… the powerful… Dragonborn!" Tracey announced.
The warrior ignored the calls and cries of the crowd watching the event as Tracey continued.
"And now our newcomer must rise to the challenge! All the way from Mother Russia is the Twin Terrors! The One-Armed Titans! Give it up for Hammer and Sickle!"
Even louder cheers rang out across the makeshift arena as two enormous men strode in. Judging by the One-Armed comment, it seemed that each man had only one working arm. A look at their limbless shoulders told the Dragonborn that these two were once conjoined twins but had been surgically separated. True to their namesakes, Hammer held in one meaty hand a sledgehammer, and Sickle held a massive one-handed scythe, though neither one of them showed any signs of trouble wielding their respective signature weapon.
"Alright, gents! Rules are simple; you can kill, maim, hack and slaughter, so have it!" Tracey stated before exiting the arena quickly.
The Dragonborn gave a slight smile at this information as he raised his fists in a boxer's stance. The bell then rang, and the one-armed twins rushed towards the warrior.
Hammer reached him first swinging his hammer upwards which the Dragonborn stepped away from as the heavy iron hammer slammed down where he stood a moment before. Jumping into the man's space, the Dragonborn smashed his fist into Hammer's jaw, breaking it with a loud crack on bone crunching and teeth flying out before he fell over to the ground unconscious.
Sickle had gotten behind the warrior and swung his scythe in a horizontal arc, hoping to slice the man in twain. The Dragonborn ducked under the swing, the iron blade whistling overhead. Jumping to his feet, the Hero of Skyrim chambered a kick to the back of Sickle's left knee, causing the man to fall to his knee. The Slayer of Alduin then grabbed the back of the man's head and forcefully smashed it down into the steel floor, a spray of blood accompanying a crunch of bone.
Almost everyone spectating watched dumbfounded by this; they hadn't expected a complete unknown to easily KO Hammer and Sickle so quickly. Even Tracey had to take a minute to process what had happened before ordering some lackeys to clean up the mess. She almost chided them for leaving behind Hammer and Sickle's weapons, but she felt they might make things more interesting in the coming bouts.
"Well, looks like Mr Dragonborn ain't here to play around, but will he survive the next round? Put yer hands together for the man who can light up the town and shock you into an early grave! Give it up for the Electrocutioner!"
This was followed by wild cheers as the arena doors slid open to reveal close-shaved man with a nasty looking burn scar on the left side of his face and wearing some kind of orange and black armour. The armour also appeared to have wiring attached from the chest to the gauntlets on the man's hands as sparks of lightning flared out.
The Electrocutioner gave a war cry, shouting, "ARE YOU READY?!" This was followed by whoops, hollers and cheers as the man danced around like some kind oof pit fighter trying to win favour from the crowd.
The Dragonborn raised an eyebrow at this man strutting around like a preening peacock. He half wondered who he had offended in a past life to be subjected to this pomp.
The Electrocutioner then finished prancing around and boasted, "You ready for me to kick your ass? I'ma kill you! Then I'ma jumpstart your heart and kill you again!" he promised. The man then wasted no time as he ran towards the Dragonborn who waited for him patiently.
Then as the Electrocutioner got within reach, the Hero of Skyrim swiftly delivered an almighty kick to his opponent's groin. Almost every man watching almost instinctually covered their own groins while the women winced.
Lester Buchinsky fell to his knees, a pained wheeze coming out of his mouth as he clutched his practically crushed manhood. It was the last thing he thought as his head was suddenly twisted to a 180-degree angle, killing him instantly.
Silence once again reigned in the area as everyone watched the far bloodier results.
"Fuck me sideways!" Tracey breathed out in shock as some men then took away Lester's corpse. She was now starting to wonder where this Dragonborn bloke had come from, and she then looked at the man's countenance. The blood in her veins almost froze instantly as she saw the cold expressionless mask the man had on his face. No smile, no twitches, nothing at all! It was if the man had killed so much and so many that it had become boring to him and had no meaning anymore.
Shaking her head, Tracey glared at the stranger in annoyance. It was all a fucking fluke! It had to be! Well, it was time to put an end to this game as the last fighter this Dragonborn bloke would face was practically immortal.
"Fuck it, people! Live by the sword, die by the sword! That's how we do things 'round here! Let's see if our challenger can face this!"
The floor then began to reverberate as heavy footfalls were heard. Dragonborn looked around to where the noise was coming from, before hearing a deep guttural voice.
"SOLOMON GRUNDY! BORN ON A MONDAY. CHRISTENED ON A TUESDAY. MARRIED ON A WEDNESDAY!"
The warrior turned around to see a behemoth of a man. He easily reached ten feet in height and was nearly just as wide. He had pale grey almost bone white skin and hair. His flesh was partially rotted with stitching holding parts of him together. A pair of sick glowing yellow eyes glared down at the Dragonborn as rotting yellowed teeth were bared in a snarl.
The crowd was whipped up into a frenzy as Tracey proudly announced, "That's right, people! We got one of the biggest, meanest motherfuckers in Gotham here tonight! Put your hands together for Solomon Grundy!" Smirking to herself, Tracey looked at the challenger who seemed to have a slight smile on his lips as he cracked his knuckles in anticipation before adopting a boxing stance.
"Who the bloody fuck is this pillock?" Tracey muttered to herself.
The Dragonborn looked at his undead foe, ignoring the noise of the cheering crowd, choosing to focus on his enemy who glared at him hatefully before giving a loud earthshaking roar. Glancing around, the Hero of Skyrim spotted Hammer and Sickle's weapons; deciding he could use them to even the odds of this fight, the warrior dashed for the sledgehammer. Then his instincts screamed at him to move and he did so, just in time to avoid Grundy's meaty hands reaching out to grab him. Rolling to the side, the Dragonborn leaped up into the air and delivered a kick to the giant zombie who grunted and staggered a little before composing himself and glared at the warrior who landed on his feet neatly.
"NO-ONE HURTS GRUNDY!"
The Dragonborn looked at his undead opponent and replied, "Grundy's gonna get more than hurt." Taking in a breathe, the warrior used his Thu'um.
"FUS… RO DAH!"
A wave of transparent blue tinted energy rushed from the warrior's mouth and smashed into Grundy, sending him hurtling into the wall of the arena. The force nearly made the ship rock dangerously in the water and everyone tried to grab onto something solid to steady themselves. Whispers and mutters were heard as everyone looked at the warrior in utter surprise, wondering just what he did and who he even was.
The Dragonborn seized his chance as he grabbed Hammer's weapon and hefted it in his hands easily. Grundy had recovered by this time and snarled like a wounded bear, angry that he'd been thrown into the wall like a children's toy. With a furious roar and spittle flying from his rotting mouth, the giant mass of undead flesh charged towards the warrior who met the charge. At the last minute, the Dovahkiin slid underneath between Grundy's legs before smoothly leaping to his feet. Spinning on the ball of his foot, the warrior slammed the iron head of his hammer into the back of Grundy's right knee.
The sickening sound of flesh being smashed to pulp and bone crunching was heard, followed by the cry of pain from Grundy as he fell onto his wounded knee which now had a shard of bone piercing through his otherwise invulnerable flesh. Roaring in anger mingled with pain, the zombie tried to force himself to stand up, but his head snapped to the side as the heavy iron head of a sledgehammer smashed into his jaw. A crunch of bone was heard as Grundy's jaw was nearly broken clean off. It was still there, but hanging by the remaining socket on the other side of the zombie's head, along with some threads of rotting grey flesh accompanying it.
The Dragonborn then moved around to look his undead opponent in the eye. Living eyes met undead ones. For a moment, the Dovahkiin saw not an undead monster, but a pitiful animal made to fight for the entertainment of others. Raising the hammer above his head to strike, the Dragonborn spoke two words.
"I'm sorry."
A sickening squelch was heard as Grundy's head was smashed to pulp in one singular strike by the Slayer of Alduin. Grundy's corpse then toppled over, black blood pooling around the ruined mass of flesh, brain and bone that was once his head.
The Dragonborn tossed away his borrowed weapon. Everyone who had been watching the fights was now silent as the grave. Even Tracey seemed dumbfounded as the Dovahkiin walked up to her and said, "It's done. Your employer will want to see me."
"S-Sure! No problem!" Tracey squeaked fearfully as she led the warrior out of the arena and back to Cobblepot's office.
…
Oswald Cobblepot had been watching the fights from a closed circuit television in his office. He could be forgiven in thinking that this complete weirdo dressed like a Conan cosplayer would be made mincemeat by the fighters he had at his command. But to his utter surprise, the cosplayer had completely decimated the competition. Initially, Cobblepot thought that this was the Bat in disguise, but he dismissed that thought right away. Batman never fought to kill and he certainly never inflicted the kind of damage this stranger had done to the other fighters.
Then there was the power the man had shown. Shouting those strange words, the challenger had thrown Grundy clear across the arena into the wall which nearly made the ship capsize.
The man was good, frighteningly so. Years of working with mercenaries and assassins had Oswald being able to separate the greats like Deathstroke and Lady Shiva from the pathetic wannabes. Was this new guy someone he'd never heard of before?
Before he could think on the matter anymore, the door to Cobblepot's office opened and Tracey walked in looking very nervous (not that he blamed her) followed by the Dragonborn who was now wearing his armour again.
Composing himself to show the face of a man in complete control of the situation, Cobblepot said, "Well, looks like you made quite a killing out there. Never would've thought I'd see the day that ole Grundy would bite it, but lo and behold, our champion, girls."
"Yeah…" Candy mumbled, her eyes wide and her expression cautious.
"I've won all three matches," the Dragonborn stated bluntly.
"So, you did," Cobblepot said agreeably. "And as I promised, I shall forgive Tommy's debt to me. He's free to go," he added generously.
"Good," The Dragonborn nodded his head.
"But I must say, I do need to make a profit now that I've suffered some clear losses to my name," Cobblepot said with a shark-like smile. "Perhaps we can come to an understanding?" he offered.
The Dragonborn stared at the crimelord impassively for a moment before speaking calmly.
"No."
"Eh? No?" Cobblepot echoed.
"Are you a parrot?" the Dragonborn asked rhetorically. "I said no. As far as I'm concerned, I have no further business with you, Mr Cobblepot. I got what I came for and so I will be on my way," he stated.
"Now, now, let's be reasonable here. I'm an honest businessman," Cobblepot said in a wheedling sort of way.
"I know your type; the man who thinks he can buy whoever and whatever he wants, and uses the threat of death and violence when he can't get what he wishes for," the Dragonborn said coldly.
Cobblepot glared at the man, his temper fraying before he said slowly, "I don't think you realise who you're dealing with, mate!"
"Neither do you, but you might have some inkling after I killed two of your best fighters," the Dragonborn said evenly. "I suggest you cut your losses and walked away from this and you might yet live to tell about it."
"Or… you can fuck around and find out what happens next."
Cobblepot gritted his teeth in fury as he glared at the audacious man, but he knew the man was correct. He had killed two of his best fighters, one of whom could give Superman trouble, with ease. Who was to say that he would have no problem killing the entire operation by himself?
Deflating and deciding to take the smart option, Cobblepot nodded, conceding. "Alright, you've made yer bleeding point. Get outta here," he snapped.
The Dragonborn nodded once before turning around and leaving the office. Once he was sure the man was out of earshot, Cobblepot turned to look at Candy and said to her, "Have someone watch that bloke. I wanna know everything about him! Where he goes, who he talks to, what he's doing. No way I'm gonna let this slide!"
"Yes, Mr Cobblepot," Candy replied instantly as she pulled out her phone to contact some people.
"Boss?" the Penguin looked at his other assistant and heir apparent. "You sure about this? Is it even worth the trouble?" Tracey asked.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Cobblepot replied vaguely. "But that git just cost me money. Either or someone he knows is gonna pay for it. One way or another!" he swore.
…
The Dragonborn returned to Tom's diner where he found the owner sweeping up the floor of the eatery. "Mr Tom?" The owner looked up in surprise as the Dragonborn then said to him, "Mr Cobblepot has forgiven your debt to him. You're free."
"R-R-Really? I don't have to pay protection anymore?" Tom asked, hoping it was true.
"As far as I'm aware, Mr Cobblepot no longer has a reason to shake you down," the Dragonborn replied. "Have a good day," he then said as he prepared to leave the diner.
"Wait!" The warrior turned around to see the owner gathering up something before walking over to him. "Take this! It's the least I could do!" In the owner's hand was a thick envelope. Taking it to peer inside, the Dragonborn saw green paper bills.
"I did not do this for the money," the warrior said to Tom pushing the envelope back towards him. Tom gaped at him.
"Then why? Why did you do it?"
The Dragonborn hummed in contemplation before saying, "Because I felt like it." With that said, the Dragonborn then left the diner and walked down the street out of sight.
The diner owner was then left wondering who his mysterious saviour was and why he did what he did to save his business. Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, the middle-aged man then finished sweeping up the store, whistling a happy tune as things were finally starting to look up for him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: There! Second chapter of this is done and dusted! I hope you all enjoyed it, as well as the fight scenes. I took some inspiration from Harbinger of Kaos' Land of Heroes DC Style story where the Master Chief fought in Cobblepot's arena. I simply changed the location of the fight to the Final Offer boiler deck (Batman Arkham Origins in case you were wondering) and I changed the last fighter from Killer Croc to Solomon Grundy. So HoK,if you're reading this, thanks for the inspiration and my apologies if what I did offended you, it was not my intention.
Anywho, haven't got too much more to say about this, so I'll leave this here and catch you all in the next one.
Be kind to one another,
Angry lil' elf.
