Wolverine and Spider-Man RPG Isekai Chapter 17: Brawlers of Newport, a Marvel + Dungeons and Dragons Crossover fanfic

WOLVERINE AND SPIDER-MAN RPG ISEKAI EPISODE 17: BRAWLERS OF NEWPORT

Under the darkness of the sleeping forest, a leaf fell and landed by a toothy mouth. A flock of dog sized, bird-like creatures were nibbling about a small cottage, their long tails flittering as they snapped up bugs and crayfish.

They screeched and sprinted off in a floof of feathers as the door was thrown open.

Full packs in tow, Wolverine and Spider-man stepped out into the early summer morning.

"Did I just see a dinosaur?" slurred Logan rubbing an eye.

"Ew, I hope not," said Peter turning back inside. "Bye Dusan!" he called. "Keep the house while we're gone!"

"Preferably better than ya did in life," Logan muttered.

Peter slugged him.

"Ow! What? The place was a shit show when we got it."

"Don't let him hear that! He'll break our necks while we're sleeping or make the walls ooze green slime or something."

"Keep it up and I'll beat him to it."

"You can make the walls ooze green slime?"

Of its own accord, Wolverine's bedroom door opened and chipperly swung in and out.

"Oh!"

Spider-man cheerfully waved back and the two headed off.

Making their way onto the dirt roads of the residential area, the pair joined Boar Bramble's morning procession. Farmers headed to the fields to begin their long hard day, sheep babbled as they were led to pasture, and carts pulled by everything from horse to hand were hauled toward the single town street.

By the time they entered the market square, the world had entered a grey haze, the idea of the sun on the sky's mind but not yet committing. A caravan of several decorated wagons was parked in a far corner.

"Wolverine, Spider-man!" exclaimed Netima as they walked up to it. She finished harnessing one of her many oxen and moved to meet them. "It's good to see you both again."

"You too. Thanks for the ride," said Spider-man. "Oh, and for the coffee. I heard you gave Nih a great deal."

"Well, hopefully not too great a deal," said Rahnd popping out from a wagon and hopping down to join them. "Depending on how much we can get for those mushrooms. How did you like the arak?"

"Haven't drunk it yet," said Logan. "Savin' it for a special occasion. You two need any help?"

"Oh yes, please," said Netima. "If you wouldn't mind, we could use a hand with the cargo."

Wolverine nodded and moved to follow Rahnd around back.

"Ok," said Spider-man. "I'm gonna go talk to GG."

Peter thumped his fist against the apothecary door.

He hoped he was here; it was really early.

After another aggressive knock, he heard angry grouching and footsteps. He stepped back as the door flung out.

"We're not open yet!" barked the haggard old man. "Who by thunder is ready to do business before the- oh it's you."

"Hey GG," said Peter unphased. "So, remember how an assassin just tried to kill us? Well, we're heading out of town now."

"By thunder. Already?"

"Yah. I was hoping you could grade my work before I left," he said pulling out a scroll.

"Yes, yes. Come into the back. We've got work to do."

There was a scratching sound as the old apothecarist slid his wrinkled hands across Peter's paper, spreading it out across a cluttered table.

"Let's see then," he grumbled aiming at it with his good eye. "Hrrmm, mmm, uh, well you seem to have a decent grasp on placing which items carry which magics. Your answer for apples is wrong but amusing, fairly clever," he chuckled. "You're struggling a lot more with doing it in reverse. Even the answers you got right aren't great. Like the magic of youth. You're not wrong that it can be found in baby teeth, but a much more ready source is down feathers."

"Sheesh. High standards."

"You want me to say your shitty answers are good? What use is that to you?"

"I suppose that's fair."

"But still. A passing grade," said Gustel rolling the paper back up and giving it a wave. "Not too shabby. You'll get there."

"Thank you," said Spider-man self-satisfied. "So then, you're grumpiness. Big talk about my homework. Have you finished yours?" he asked smugly.

Gustel's good eye went wide.

With some level of apprehension, he slowly grabbed another paper from the desk.

Spider-man snatched it.

"Now then," he said switching into teacher mode.

After a lengthy grading involving a re-explanation of the law of conservation of mass, several passive aggressive remarks from both parties, and only one assault with a spiderward draught, he gave a nod.

"My parents' marital status aside, you also passed," said Spider-man handing back his graded paper. "Good job."

"What's this symbol drawn here?" asked Gustel pointing to some dots and a swoop beside his written score.

"That's a smiley face."

Gustel gave it a dumfounded look.

"It's ok if you're confused. I know you haven't seen one of those since…"

"Oh shut it! By thunder, I haven't had to learn this hard in fifty years," he said rubbing his scalp.

"It will make a lot more sense once we start balancing equations," said Peter digging through his pack. "But for now, I brought you a present."

He unrolled a large piece of parchment.

Gustel gasped.

"Ta da," he said revealing a periodic table. "I borrowed a sword to make straight lines and everything. You're probably the second person ever to have one of these here."

Gustel took it with awe.

"Incredible! I've never seen anything like it! I don't even know what I'm looking at."

"We'll go over it when I get back, and I wrote up a few pages and another worksheet to get you started. Try to really familiarize yourself with the categories and see if you can't start memorizing the element order."

"Devils take it, you run a tight ship." The old grump chuckled. "But what use would it be to me if you didn't? I've got a 'present' for you too lad. You'll need it if you're leaving town. Come over here."

Spider-man followed Gustel as he shambled over to another countertop. Some sort of engraved metal and glass disk, about the size of a tea saucer was sitting atop it.

"This is a GOSP seal," declared Gustel.

"Um, GOSP?"

"Guild of Stranan Potioncraft," he clarified flippantly. "It took some finagling, but I managed to de-activate it. Now then, it's time for you to learn a spell."

"Wait what‽" exclaimed Spider-man. "Me‽ Are you crazy‽ I can't do magic!"

"We're on a tight schedule, I'll admit it, but you've shown remarkable aptitude for the subject. I've had a little chat with your party."

"You have? Did you have to threaten them?"

"Profoundly, but it sounds like you've already set all the groundwork. You've not only been lending mana to druids, but you also talked a ranger through igniting the static magic of caviar as a makeshift stopper on necrosis. Thinking like a potion master you are," he said snarling his wrinkled face into a grin and tapping his temple. "I'm sure you'll be able to get it down."

Peter gave him an unconvinced look.

"Now, you know mana is the magic held in all living things. We ourselves are filled with it. Magic casters train to increase their mana stores so they may cast more, larger, and more complex spells. We don't need any of that, but as a non-magic caster you should have plenty enough mana for a small catalyst spell."

"Um, ok."

Gustel grabbed him around the shoulders and moved him in front of the seal.

"There are all sorts of different schools and methods of magic manipulation, but like a potion, all spells always have three basic parts: the mana, which like in potions is the fuel, the evocation which serves as both the catalyst and the subject, and the expression, that is what the spell does. The evocation can vary greatly between different methodologies. Some use commands or chants to evoke, some use quiet mantras, some get good enough to simply think it, and others still use physical actions such as throwing a hand or foot. You can mix and match too as I understand. Add in staffs and wands and by thunder, I'm not one for wizardry."

"No kidding."

"Though there are many ways to do it, the evocation all serves the same purpose, to summon the mana out of yourself and direct it in the way you choose. It's all about making your intention clear and powerful. You need to understand what you want to happen and demand that it do so. Words and actions help us accomplish that."

"Ok," mumbled Spider-man.

"Spell craft isn't so uncommon. I'd say as many people that play an instrument know some sort of simple spell, and now you'll join them. So, the catalyst spell. Probably the simplest spell ever devised. You already understand it. The hard part is down. You just want to activate the static magic. How did you describe it to the ranger? Like igniting a pile of kindling. You just need to make a spark. Well, now it's your turn to make that spark."

"B-but, I don't have magic. I'm not from here. You get that right? People don't do magic where I'm from… uh… well actually…"

"Bah! You're alive aren't you?"

"Well, yah but…"

"Your blood holds the same magic as metal. Your web acts as magical vehere. You've got magic! If I can learn your chemistry, I don't see why you can't learn our spell craft."

"I…," started Peter, but then decided it wasn't worth arguing. "I guess I can try."

"There's a lad. Now, I've been doing this so long I just aim and think, but the way they teach the greenhorns is to point at your target with two fingers and command 'vivas'. Nice and snappy. See here."

He aimed at a vile.

"Vivas."

With a casual flick, the liquid within began to glow.

"See, my intent and understanding was clear, and my command was firm. Therefore, my mana obeyed. Now you try."

Gustel tapped on the seal.

"You're going to activate the static magic in this crystal. It's your initiation. These seals are carried by everyone authorized to engage in potioncraft. You get them in the academy. This is mine. If you're going to be traveling, you might need to stop into another shop to make more dope."

"Oh GG no. I don't want to take your seal."

"I don't need it. I've been running this shop for forty years. Everyone around here knows I'm legal and no one else comes all the way up here to check. You're the one that needs it now you little bastard," he said with a slight lilt of endearment.

Spider-man raised an eyebrow, then looked back down at the dark seal.

"This is super illegal isn't it?"

"Exceptionally so."

Peter laughed, then let out a breath.

"Ok. I'll give it a shot, but I'm still not convinced anything is going to happen."

He aimed a pair of fingers at the seal's center.

"Vivas."

Unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

"Try again," huffed Gustel. "Hold a clear intent in your mind."

"Vivas!" he exclaimed with more hand movement. Still nothing.

"I can hear the doubt in your voice. Have more confidence! Command the mana. Nothing respects limp-wristed commands."

"Confidence. Right, just have confidence I can do the impossible," Peter thought. "Wait. That kind of sounds like something else."

Then he remembered. Steve had said something similar in the astral plane. What was it? Right. "Believe you can do it. Don't let your inferior instincts hold you back from your potential."

At the memory, Peter's brow furrowed.

You know what? He was going to actually try.

The younger man aimed at the seal with a newfound determination. He concentrated, trying to imagine what sort of process could cause magical ignition. He saw the shapes of the molecules in his mind, crystalline latus and rigid alloys. He imagined their very atoms vibrating with life.

"Vivas!"

There was a slight delay, but after a moment the dark crystal lit in a xanthous green, the same color as Peter's hazel eyes.

He gasped.

"Ha ha!" shouted Gustel. "I knew you could do it you chittering fop! Third try!"

"I did," breathed Spider-man astonished. "I did!" he exclaimed. "I cast magic! Me! Me me! With nothing! No weird relics or extradimensional shenanigans! I just thought something with my bare hand and it happened!"

"Alright, alright. It's not that impressive. Like I said, it's one of the easiest spells ever created. A clever squirrel could probably manage it."

"But I managed it!"

Gustel just shook his head, then he smiled.

"Aye, well then, that should be enough to get you going. Go on then," he said walking him to the door. "Go have your adventures while you're young. The parchment and beakers will always be waiting for you."

They waived as Peter ran off.

The rest of the Far Marvels were now gathered with the caravan just about ready to head out.

Spider-man sprinted toward them.

"Look! Look what I did!" he exclaimed holding up the seal.

Boksee saw the familiar shade of green and gasped.

"Did you cast a spell‽" she exclaimed.

"I cast a spell!"

Logan whipped toward him.

"You cast a spell‽"

Wyn and Nih quickly gathered around.

"Is it your very first one?" asked Wyn excited.

"Uh huh!"

"Oh my snail ears!" fawned Nih.

"I didn't know we could do that," said Wolverine, the seal now in his hand. He flipped it over.

The five adventurers were sat in the floor of Rahnd and Netima's private cart. Understandably, they had rolled up their sleeping mat and moved their personal property to another wagon. The walls wobbled and bobbed around them as an ox pulled them down the endless dirt road.

"I didn't either!" said Spider-man.

"I told you just about anyone can learn," said Boksee. "It just takes practice."

"I could never get a grasp of it," sighed Wyn.

"So I've heard," teased Boksee. "You're going to have to learn at least one useful spell if you ever want that paladin gold. That's what dad says."

"Don't remind me."

"Does the light thing not count?" asked Spider-man.

The ranger chuckled.

"No."

A small party of adventurers, hobgoblin head in hand, stepped off the road and waved as the caravan passed.

"The Blue Sturgeon is on the west end of Newport, here on the west bank," said Wyn showing them a map. "We'll be nearby as soon as we arrive so I say we head there right away."

"How are we going to sneak in?" asked Spider-man.

"It's an inn. We don't need to sneak in. Let's just rent a room."

"Oh. Good point."

"Now, sneaking someone back out might require a bit more thought, if it's found necessary. We'll need to see what exactly we're working with."

"Jack said he wasn't supposed to meet his detective for another three days," said Boksee. "Won't we be early?"

"Yes. But how could he guarantee to meet in room six if he wasn't already renting it? Besides, worst case scenario, we just have to stay there until he arrives."

"And here I just got out of the blasted inn," groaned Wolverine, then he smiled. "Oh well. Ol' detective better watch his neck, because I might just take out my frustration on it."

"You may regardless," said Wyn. "Depending on how willing he is to talk."

"Beat him in any case," snarked Boksee. "Sending someone to kill us sure, but sending someone up to Boar Bramble? That's five steps too far. He better pray the best that befalls him is a good beating. The season who sent him too for that matter."

"What happened to hopin' for tax evaders?" asked Logan.

"Can't beat a tax evader?" She huffed out a laugh. "But you know, I did say that didn't I? But then I remembered one of these slime molds summoned an extra-plannar abomination in our backyard so… I guess I can still shoot for one tax evader, right?"

Wolverine gave her a grin and ruffled her head, pulling out a dozen loose strands from her buns.

"Hey!"

The first day on the road proceeded slow and uncomfortable, as all long wagon trips did, but gratitude for not having to walk kept the soul alive. Spider-man sewed up Nih's damaged robes, and he and Wyn went back and forth on classes. Wolverine read his book and had even gotten a new one for the occasion. Many naps were taken.

When night came, the adventurers exited the cart and camped out. Spider-man never thought the ground could be so comfortable. Wolverine always knew. Morning came too early and they were back on the road.

Twelve hours later.

The resident sapphire rank was passed out in a tight ball of folded limbs. An emerald, the short one, the shorter one, was using him as an arm rest.

The cart continued to quietly jostle in the long silence.

"Urrgh," groaned Wolverine across from them. "Gotta stretch out a minute," he grunted unfolding his legs and setting them out straight, his boots an inch from Spider-man's face. "You don't mind do ya kid?" he jeered at his sleeping team mate.

"If you wake him…" grunted Wyn working on some paladin studies.

"Pinkie fingers aren't weird… stop it," mumbled Spider-man kicking a leg.

"Ahh," groaned Boksee. "Back you! He's kickin' like a babe in the womb over here."

Nih blinked out of a trance.

"You may want to wake him anyway," he said. "I believe we'll be arriving soon."

"Really?" asked Boksee excitedly.

"How do you figure?" grouched Wyn.

"I've been nomadic for two hundred years. I have a good sense of travel time."

Peter jolted and snorted.

"Nrrgh! Uhhh," he groaned coming to. "Guys, I think Steve is creeping on my dreams," he said sitting up and stretching.

"What‽" exclaimed Wyn.

"I think Steve is watching my dreams," he repeated.

"D-did you see him in there?"

"No. I hardly ever remember my dreams, but I just woke up with a feeling someone was violating my personal space, and who else here could get into my dreams? Unless Nightmare tracked me across dimensions or something."

"You were probably just feeling Wolverine's boots on your face," said Boksee.

"Wait what?"

Just as the druid predicted, within the hour, the caravan began to pass through the telltale agriculture of an approaching settlement. Spider-man climbed up on top of the wagon, and Boksee and Wolverine hung out its back as the city came into view.

A pair of twin rivers glistened in the bright oranges and pinks of the evening sun. Tight crowded streets of familiar wattle and daub buildings gathered around their edges, pushing their docks into their waters and spanning their bridges high over their passing ships.

It was the largest city in northern Strana, though that wasn't saying much, a port city built at the intersection of the land's two largest rivers - those rivers cutting the city into three distinct neighborhoods: the west end, the east, and the center peninsula.

With only a few words exchanged, and the adventurers poking their heads out to wave, the entry guard allowed them to pass through the humble wooden gate.

Newport was very much like Boar Bramble (the buildings were a little taller) with the primary difference being the city's sheer size. Instead of one cobbled street, it was a twisting web of winding alleys. Every square inch of land was being used by someone. Homes, and businesses, and workshops were built wall to wall to wall for miles on end. Citizens talked out open windows and mingled about their streets.

Eventually the clattering collection of oxen and wagons reached a market square and the adventurers happily hopped out.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" asked Wyn handing Rahnd and Netima their agreed payment. "We've got five strong bodies here."

"Oh no thank you. We won't sell until the morning so there's nothing to unpack."

And with that, the adventurers and caravanners said their good byes and went their separate ways.

The west end was the lowest classed area. One might even use the word 'seedy' if the mood struck them.

On a tight street at the edge of the river, as cloud cover brought early nightfall, the party looked up to see a faded wooden sign in the shape of a primeval blue fish. They nodded and opened the door beneath it.

It was a crowded inn. The dining room was packed with patrons still eating dinner and the hall with guests looking to retire for the night.

The party squeezed their way up to the front desk.

"Beds for five," said Wyn.

The inn keeper flipped a page in her log book and glanced up.

"The dark elf with you?"

"Obviously," snipped Wyn.

"You can lose the attitude young madam. I was just checking. I've never seen a dark elf in my life above Ries. Any couples?" she crabbed.

"No."

"I can do two rooms. The ladies can have one and two gents, but one of you is going to have to bunk with someone else."

"That's fine," answered Wyn for them.

"Let's see," said the inn keeper reading over her tome. "You two will be in room fourteen," she said to the women. "And two males can have room eleven. The last of you I'll bunk with…. a fellow in room six."

The adventurers all blinked.

"That… will do just fine," said Wyn trying to hide her surprise.

"Which of you will it be?"

"Uhhhh… can we have a moment to discuss?"

"Come on hon. I've got other guests to entertain."

Wyn started to object when a worker pushed his way to the desk. "Hey Carol, there's something leaking from the kitchen ceiling. It looks ruddy."

"Oh for heavens' sake. If it's not one thing around here it's another," barked the inn keeper slamming her log. "You lot have it figured out by the time I get back," she snapped stomping out from behind the counter and following her staff.

The adventurers quickly huddled.

"Well, this streamlined things," said Peter.

"Who's it gonna be?" asked Wyn. "Normally I'd say Webs since Wolverine and Nih are so distinct, but he's the one the detective actually knows by face."

"Whoever is going in will be recognized. He's been tracking us across Strana," said Boksee.

"Send in kid anyway," said Logan. "Bind and gag him before he has the chance to run or make a ruckus. Then we'll need to sneak him out."

"But how…"

"We'll figure it out," Wyn hissed as the inn keeper returned. They quickly disbanded.

"You make a decision?" she asked wiping a red smear off her hands.

"Yep. It's me," said Peter.

"Bottom of the pack huh youngin'?"

He gave her a scowl.

"Alright, here's yours and here's yours," said Carol handing out keys not from the desk but from her own pockets. "I'll come with you to yours," she said to Peter.

"Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary," said Wyn.

"It saves everyone a lot of trouble if the inn keeper just introduces a new bed fellow. Come on then."

The adventurers gave each other concerned looks as the inn keeper grabbed a candlestick and led them upstairs.

It was dark and cramped. The only light was that of passing candles, and the halls struggled to house more than two people at a time. The rest of the party hung around corners trying not to be noticed as Peter and Carol approached room six.

"Really, it's fine. I'll just introduce myself," said Spider-man.

The inn keeper didn't even acknowledge him as she banged on the door making everyone cringe.

"Inn keeper. Open up! You've got a roomie."

The door remained closed.

She rolled her eyes and pulled a massive key ring from her apron.

"You ever bunk with anyone before?" she asked flipping for the right key.

"Not a stranger."

"Well if you steal anything while he's sleeping or otherwise I'll call the authorities to break your shins. That's how it works."

"Noted," said Spider-man trying to fidget himself in front of her.

It was no use. The big iron key was thrust into the lock, and with a clank, the door was opened.

"Inn keeper. Letting in your roomie," she announced. Then she froze. Spider-man froze too.

The dim candlestick cast its light across a man lying on the floor, soaking in a fat puddle of crimson. His eyes were open and glassy, mouth hanging ajar as his blood dripped between the floorboards. The edge of a dagger glistened as it stood triumphantly thrust between his shoulder blades.

"For heavens' sake!" snapped Carol. She turned on a heel and started shouting down the hall. "AUTHORITIES! MURDER! MURDER!"

The rest of the party bolted toward Spider-man. They saw the scene and gasped.

Wyn ran inside to check the body. Wolverine followed behind and spotted a note stabbed onto the dagger.

"Dead. Still warm," declared Wyn.

"Sorry bub. Couldn't let it get around I failed a hit," read Wolverine. "For fuck's sake!"

Doors were opening. Guests and staff were cramming into the halls and thundering up the stairs.

"This isn't a good look tuts," said Logan stashing the note.

Wyn whipped her head, scanning the room for luggage but she didn't see anything. She rummaged through the dead man's clothes quickly grabbing out everything off his person.

"Let's go!"

The party forced their way through the crowded hall as more and more people filed in in the confusion.

"We changed our minds!" shouted Spider-man tossing their keys as they ran down the stairs and into the street.

"OH! Shoes! Shoes!" barked Boksee. She pointed at Wyn and Wolverine who were both trailing bloody footprints.

Throwing a hand, Nih summoned a water spout from the river to wash off.

"Here!" called Spider-man.

He ran ahead and threw a web line over a guard rail. Wolverine charged up behind, and while Peter held the line, grabbed ahold and slid down. The rest of the party followed suit. They landed on a tiny access path at water level and huddled under a nearby bridge. Tossing his web in the river, Spider-man hopped down to join them just as a unit of armed guards came running overhead.

"Well shit," hissed Boksee. "I guess it was pretty obvious we were heading after his employer."

"It's alright. We'll make due," whispered Wyn.

"What have you got?"

Wyn pulled out a wad of pocket tripe.

"Looks like a coin sack, a flint and steel, and maybe a note."

"That's it?"

"The room was empty. I didn't see any bags or luggage."

"How does that make sense? Shouldn't he have stuff?" asked Spider-man.

"Maybe he hid it?"

"What for?"

"Maybe his 'stuff' was kept safe at another location," offered Nih.

"Jack knew we were coming for info. Maybe he wanted to stick it to us one last time and dumped it all in the river," said Boksee.

"That… actually sounds plausible," admitted Wyn.

They shut up and ducked as another crowd hurried overhead.

"What's the note say?" whispered Boksee.

Wyn unfolded it and squinted.

"I can't read. It's too dark."

Nih took it.

"Warehouse 19, west bank, four bells first watch, 30 o' 8."

"Ok," said Spider-man. "I get the first part; it's a warehouse on the west bank. What the heck does the rest of that mean?"

"Well, the last bit is just the date," answered Boksee. "The thirtieth day of the eighth month. That's today."

Spider-man blinked.

"Is it really August? Already? Have we been here that long?"

"What's August?"

"Ain't August. We just had Midsummer," said Logan. "That's in June."

"How do you know that?" asked Spider-man.

"Cuz' it's on the solstice. Longest day of the year. Never open an almanac, Einstein?"

"I told you not to call me that!"

"'Sides, I know what that is," the mutant continued. "That's ship bells. They'll ring the bells in patterns to keep the crew on time. Four bells on the first watch is 10:00 pm."

"Huh. Different calendar, same ship bell… times."

"Ain't dimension hopping always a peach?"

"Ten o'clock tonight. That can't be too long from now," said Boksee. "If he was meeting with someone we should check it out."

"Do you think it was the season?" asked Spider-man.

"Maybe…"

"No, I don't think so," said Wolverine. "We're early. Why plan to meet with the client before he knew the job would be done?"

"Well, he was meeting up with someone," argued Boksee.

"There are many things to do in town," said Nih. "It might not have been relevant to us. He may have been picking up a package, his laundry, his…"

"At 10:00 at night?" interrupted Spider-man.

"Claws," said Wyn firmly. "You and Webs go check this out. You know the bells and Spidey's an urban savant. We're on the west bank now so it shouldn't be too far away."

Wolverine nodded as Wyn handed him the note.

"We'll hang around here and see if we can't find any of his stuff. See what we can learn from trailing the authorities."

"And dredging the river," snarked Boksee.

"Perhaps," said Nih. "One of us should be available for questioning. Someone easily recognizable as having been there," he said self-aware. "It may keep any suspicion from landing on our party and open communication."

"Sounds like an idea."

Wyn nodded.

"Just don't say anything that could land us in jail tonight," said Spider-man.

"What did we even do?" asked Boksee.

"Well, tampering with a crime scene for one," he said flapping the note.

"They even got laws like that around here?" asked Logan.

"Nih, talk to the authorities," said Wyn. "Boksee and I will dig around." She grabbed out a map, but remembered she couldn't see and shoved it at Nih. "I know there's another inn on the Midwest bank. That should be the closest one. Let's meet up there."

Wolverine took the map from Nih and gave it a read over. He nodded.

The two meta humans, in civies and cloaks, made their way quickly through the city. They trailed the river until reaching a sprawling collection of docks. Barges powered by sail and oar hauled their cargo up and down the wide lethargic river. Broad and calloused men, soaked with grime and sweat, gathered to relieve them of the burden. With nothing but rope, an occasional beast of burden, and their own backs, they transported crates, sacks, and anything else the ships delivered into the mandated warehouses.

A bell on a passing ship rang out loudly across the summer evening.

"Crap!" exclaimed Spider-man. "Is it time? Do you see it?"

"No. That was only three bells," said Wolverine. "It's only 9:30."

"Ok, I have no idea how these bells work."

"Just look for anything that says which of these warehouses is nineteen."

"You're looking for warehouse nineteen?"

The two turned to see a burly dock worker. He didn't seem to be on the clock anymore, instead standing around and shooting the breeze with his mates. He was giving them a look far more suspicious than a simple need for directions would suggest.

Logan crossed his thick arms.

"Sure are. What of it?"

The docker handed his drink to one of his pals and approached them.

He was just as leathery and brawny as the mutant, his face just as weathered, but the docker stood more than a head higher.

He gave Wolverine a look like he was assessing him for work, trying to puzzle out the merit of the man and his claims.

Logan just deepened his scowl, crossing his arms with more disdain, and meeting the man's energy.

The docker smiled.

"Well then, number nineteen is the dingy one with the busted windows," he said pointing. He turned back to Logan. "See you there."

He walked off and rejoined his group.

"See you there?" asked Peter. "What does that mean? Why is he going to be there?"

"No idea."

Calling the warehouse 'dingy' was generous, 'condemned' would be far more fitting. The protective whitewash was faded, the roof had hunks missing out of it, the windows were vacant holes, and some of the wood seemed to have been stolen or repurposed elsewhere.

As its large decrepit door came into view, Wolverine grabbed Spider-man and threw them both behind a wall.

"Wha-"

"Shh!"

They peaked out to see another group of men heading toward the same door. They gave it a knock and a hatch opened.

Wolverine cocked his head and strained to hear as they spoke and then were allowed inside.

"What'd they say?" whispered Spider-man.

"Broomrape."

"Pardon me?"

"It's a plant. And the password I guess."

"That's a horrible name, and a horrible password."

They came out of hiding and shuffled over to the warehouse.

With a few heavy thunks, the same hatch was pulled open and a pair of eyes peered out at them.

"Broomrape," declared Logan.

The eyes gave him a scrutinizing look, then the door swung open.

It was an absolute giant of a man. He must have stood over seven foot tall and was at least three foot wide. Maybe he wasn't a man at all. The tops of his ears were clipped off, and even in the poor light, he seemed to have a slight greeness to his complexion.

Logan's eyebrows raised.

The bouncer stepped out to give them a better look. His brow furrowed at Wolverine but quickly relaxed. Then his attention shifted to Spider-man.

"This spring weaner with you?" he huffed glaring down at the younger man.

"Did you just call me a wiener?"

Logan let out a laugh.

"Yah, the wiener's with me."

The bouncer shrugged and stepped aside.

Following the sound of voices, they made their way down a back staircase and through a reinforced door. The basement was huge, as big as the warehouse above, and crowded, really crowded, with dockers, and farm hands, and workers of all sorts. They were all males, as far as they could see anyway, with an array of aggressive hair styles and mustaches. Most had lost their shirts, showing off their robust and battered physiques, and everyone stunk of fish, sweat, manure, and whatever else coated them from the workday.

"Ok, we've seemed to have stumbled into the local YMCA," said Peter as a girthy man with a handlebar mustache lumbered past. "What is going on here?"

"Not sure. Stay close. You stick out." Logan snorted. "Weiner."

Spider-man gave him a look.

They both jumped as a loud voice shouted over the crowd.

"WELCOME, WELCOME ONE AND ALL!" shouted a man on a wooden platform. "Welcome to the fifteenth no holds barred tournament of the Brawlers of Newport!"

The tight crowd of sweaty shirtless men cheered. A gap formed between them just enough for the metahumans to make out a setup of makeshift wooden stands surrounding a chalk ring.

"A fight club?" realized Spider-man exasperated.

"A fight club‽" barked Wolverine excited.

"Yes welcome, welcome," continued the announcer. "If this isn't the place for you, well frankly, I don't know how you got here, but this is your last chance to turn around! Once that door closes, you will be fighting in that ring! Everyone has their brawl!"

With hoots and hollers participants started filing into the stands.

"Ok, this is nothing. Let's get out of here," said Spider-man.

"What‽ No way. We don't got no other leads. He was gonna come here. Might as well investigate," smirked Wolverine heading forward.

"Now if you lose, you can stay, but you're done," continued the announcer. "You get to watch who wins it all and takes home the winning pot of 4,500 copper coins!"

The two metahumans approached the entrance to the makeshift stadium. There was another bouncer, much shorter than the first but still a small hulk by most estimates, blocking the way. He let a brawler pass then handed the next one in line a blade. The man took it, and with a growl, sliced it across his palm. He slapped his bleeding hand to some sort of dark orb. It glowed red and a symbol of the same color formed on his left upper arm. Only then was he allowed to pass.

"Oh jeeze. What is this?" groaned Spider-man.

"Initiation," said Wolverine with a grin.

"Payment required from here on," declared the new bouncer as the pair approached.

"What kind of payment?" asked Peter already annoyed.

"Gotta earn your seat. This isn't a spectator sport. Place your blood on the swear ball to swear you will fight the tourney until you're eliminated or win."

"What'll happen if we break it?"

"You'll get the bloody flux."

"What's that?"

"Blood shoots out your bum til you die."

"Eh, sounds fair," said Logan. He grabbed the knife and sliced it across his hand with manic glee.

"WHAT‽" exclaimed Peter. "Seriously‽ You don't even know how long this tournament lasts! What if it goes on for a month or something? Did you think about that?"

"It lasts three days," said the bouncer as Wolverine slapped his bloody hand to the orb. "That's how long a swear ball can hold an oath. Looks like seven rounds this time, I'd say."

The orb glowed as it accepted Logan's blood, and the corresponding symbol lit on his left shoulder.

The bouncer took the bloody knife and offered it to Spider-man.

"UGH! No way! That's how HIV spreads."

"Come on kid," goaded Wolverine. "We want in here, right?"

"I don't!"

"What's the harm?"

"The harm is that if we win this stupid thing we're going to end up fighting each other."

"And that's a problem?"

They heard booming, caustic laughter from behind.

The pair turned to see another group of men watching them. Their ring leader, another mountain of a man, shredded to pieces, with both sides of his blonde head shaved and a great twirling mustache sneered.

"Did you hear that men?" he asked. "This beansprout is worried about what'll happen when they win."

His lackies laughed.

Spider-man just raised an eyebrow.

"Beansprout? Well now you've just gone too far," he sassed dryly.

The ring leader's face dropped at his indifference. Logan moved to confront the man as he swaggered toward them but Spider-man caught his shoulder.

The blonde brawler brought himself to a stop towering directly over them, his pupils pinpricked.

"So let me get this straight," he snarled. "A middle-aged midget and some soft-skinned streak of piss think they have a chance of getting past round one."

Wolverine took a deep breath.

"Well friend, I more than think it," he husked. "The two of us are going to be in the finals. Can't say the same for you."

The brawler glared at him. Never breaking eye contact, he took the knife from the bouncer, hung his tongue out his mouth, and slid the blade across it. He took a long lick of his filthy hand and smacked it to the orb.

"See you in the ring, pops."

The group of men jeered as they walked past.

"Ohhhh, I'm gonna have fun with this," said Wolverine cracking his neck.

"Just don't do anything I'll regret," sighed Spider-man.

"So kid, you in?" asked the bouncer. "I suppose you can still try to leave, but Urrl just closed the door."

They turned to see the enormous first bouncer lock them in. His hands glowed and the large reinforced door disappeared into the wall.

"He might let you out early, but it'll cost you a lot more than a cut of blood. You got a finger you're not particularly fond of?"

It was Peter's turn to take a long breath. He rolled his eyes as he let it out and dropped into the flattest scowl.

"FFFFFFFine, whatever."

He took out his own dagger and sliced his hand.

"Ow," he said blandly. Then he slapped it to the far side of the orb.

"You just smack that orb on the ass?"

"We've talked about the HIV."

The swear ball glowed and the symbol lit on his arm.

The bouncer huffed a chuckle.

"Welcome in brawlers."

The ring of chalk was maybe twenty foot in diameter. As Wolverine and Spider-man (two of the last to enter), found a spot in the stands, the announcer and the smaller bouncer from the swear ball stepped inside it.

"Well then," proclaimed the announcer with mischief. "Easy part done huh? The blood paid to enter is pittance compared to the blood you'll shed IN THIS RING!"

The crowd let out a roar of excitement.

I'm your host, Manton," he introduced, then threw a hand at the bouncer beside him. "Your referee, Faxon!"

"The rules are simple," declared the bouncer now ref. "No nails, no teeth, no weapons, no murder. Accidental deaths are gonna happen, but I can tell the difference. Knock your opponent out of the ring, out of their consciousness, or keep them on the ground for ten counts. We don't care how."

Spider-man was web-bandaging his palm as the stands cheered and stomped in a glorious sweaty heap of vibrating testosterone.

"Can I get some of that?" asked Wolverine looking over.

"What for?"

The mutant motioned to the metal slots on the back of his hand.

"Wouldn't want these confused as a weapon."

Spider-man rolled his eyes but wrapped Logan's hands for him.

"Brawlers of Newport," shouted the announcer. "Welcome your three-time reigning champ, YEEEEGOR!"

The shredded blonde brawler from earlier stepped into center stage. He had dropped his pants and shoes and was now in nothing but a short pair of braies, and they weren't particularly flattering.

"Yeesh," muttered Spider-man staring at the thin, crinkly fabric. "It's like the world's buffest grandpa panties. You think anyone ever tries to untie that little bow on the front?"

"Ain't like you don't got a pair."

"A man can't go through life with only one pair of underwear!"

"Any volunteers to kick off round one?" asked the announcer rhetorically. "Let me remind you all, if you don't volunteer yourself, well, you may find yourself at the end of the round without a partner. And what happens then? Then you'll be stuck facing off against the ELIMINATOR!" he reveled throwing his arm toward Urrl. The jaundiced giant was standing at the side of the ring, also in braies. He flexed his massive biceps as the crowd thundered.

The announcer turned back to Yegor.

"Well champ. First pick of the litter. Anyone catch your fancy?"

Yegor smirked. He raised an arm into the air then slowly lowered it to point into the stands. A broad finger landed on Wolverine.

"I want…"

"I will!" chirped Spider-man throwing up his hand.

The crowd lurched like the entire room had collectedly been smacked in the face. Every head whipped toward him, saw who had spoken, then burst into riotous laughter.

"WHAT‽" snapped Logan. "He was pickin' me!"

"I think you need to calm down a bit first. Besides, I might as well get this over with. At least one of us could actually be productive in here."

"I won't get another chance!"

"And that's a problem?"

Wolverine growled and swore as Peter smirked and made his way down the stairs.

"Cocky little streak of piss," said Yegor cracking his knuckles. "You'll get a good lesson from this."

"Lose the clothes," said the ref stopping him at the ring's edge.

"Oh goodie."

Spider-man threw off his civies, wiggled out of his spidey suit beneath it, and tossed them to the side.

In nothing but his Spider-man themed underwear, the super hero stepped into the ring. Compared to the brawlers, his body was slender and smooth, but it was graced with a perfect cascade of ab and pec. He hooked his thumbs onto his hips and gave the champion and unimpressed glower.

"Well beansprout," said his opponent. "Looks like you've got some pretty muscles, but this isn't a pageant. Some pretty abs aren't gonna win you a pretty pay, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" asked Peter. "I'm flattered. Last more than a minute and we'll talk about dinner."

"OHH!" the crowd hooted and hollered.

Yegor scowled.

"I'll try not to break your jaw," he said grabbing his head and cracking his neck.

The announcer whacked a bell. With a loud clang, the match began.

The brawler dropped into a fighting stance, heels up, fists raised in front of his face.

Spider-man stood casually.

"C'mon. Why don't you come at me with your best shot," taunted the champion.

"No thanks," he replied blandly.

"C'mon, I'll even give you a free one," said Yegor relaxing. He spread his arms leaving himself open.

"I'll pass," he replied again unphased. "You should just come over here and get it over with."

"Come on!" snapped Yegor losing his patience. "I promise. I won't mess up that pretty little face too bad!"

"Woah, alright. I see you're pretty serious," said Spider-man throwing up his hands. "How about this, we'll go for a coffee and see where it goes."

The brawler charged at him.

Before his first hand made contact, Spider-man leapt overtop the man, spun on a heel, and kicked him in the back with enough force to send him flying. With a cry and a loud crash, the mountain of a man landed outside the ring.

The room fell so silent that the bell of a nearby boat could be heard through the ceiling. Every jaw in the stadium, from the brawlers, to the ref, to the announcer, to Urrl fell open as they did a collective double take.

"BAH HAHAHA!"

They all turned to see Wolverine reared back and laughing his ass off.

It took another moment of stunned silence before the rest of the crowd joined in.

Yegor floundered out of a pile of wreckage only to see the symbol evaporate off his arm. He leapt to his feet.

"You bastard! You tricked me! What are you, some sort of bloody monk‽" he barked.

"I didn't say anything," replied Spider-man utterly apathetic. "It's not my fault you're the human embodiment of a gym boner."

Yegor lunged at him but was caught by Urrl and his own lackies.

"Keep it in the ring!" snapped the ref, then he blew a whistle.

The announcer laughed.

"It just goes to show brawlers, never get too comfortable! And never underestimate your opponent."

He turned to Peter.

"What's your name?" he asked quickly.

"Spider-man."

"SPIDER-MAN!"

He grabbed Peter's hand and held it aloft as the crowd cheered. A scantily clad woman sauntered up and presented him a small sack of coins.

"I thought there was only the winning pot," he said pulling away from it.

"There's reward for each win beforehand," explained the ref. "The higher the round, the bigger the payout."

The woman aimed the coins at him again. He tried to wave her off, but his hosts all but forced them into his hand. Reluctantly, he took his prize and went to rejoin Logan.

"Ha! I knew it'd be even more humiliatin' if you handed him his ass instead of someone respectable like me," he said excitedly throwing a thumb.

"Uh huh," said Spider-man giving him a look.

"But I'm gettin' the next one!"

"You can get them all. I'm gonna look around."

As the next pair of fighters took the ring, Peter covertly slipped off the back of the stands and into the floor.

Trying to talk to anyone seemed pointless; everyone here was either watching or fighting. He tried skulking around for clues but came up with nothing. It really was just a big stone hole in the ground where men beat each other, nothing that could give him any new ideas about their detective. He did find a ditch in the back that, if the smell was any indication, was being used as a latrine. He tried to hang around there for awhile, literally hanging from the ceiling hiding in wait for someone to come take a leak, but no luck. With nothing to show, he hopped down and headed back to the stands.

The crowd erupted at the current fight causing Spider-man to startle.

"Owww," he grouched grabbing the side of his head. "How can Mr. heightened feral senses even stand this?" he mocked. "You'd think at least the B.O. would run him off. Then again…"

A loud crack somehow caught his ear over the shouting men.

He hurried around back to see Yegor slamming his fist into the wall.

"Hey!" he shouted jogging up.

The brawler whipped toward him, then immediately turned back around.

He threw another punch with a loud snap and a crack forming.

"Hey," repeated Spider-man. "Look, no hard feelings, yeah?"

"Bugger off piss streak!"

Peter crossed his arms.

"Alright Kyle, you can call me names all you want, but I'm not the one busting my hands up on a brick wall like a toddler."

"I'm not sticking around here!" he snapped kicking at the growing crack. Spider-man noticed he was actually breaking into wood, not stone. It was the hidden door. "Shrieking laughing stock!" he spat under his breath. "Idiot ref, traitors, worthless no-show…"

"No-show?" asked Peter. "Wait, were you expecting to see someone here who isn't?"

"What's it matter to you‽"

He screamed as he hammered into the unyielding hidden door. Shrapnel flew into the air.

"It matters," said Spider-man stiffly. "Because a guy at the inn we were going to stay at is the reason we know about all this, and well, he's definitely not coming."

"Mother of..!" snapped Yegor finally turning to face him. "Was it Maksim?"

"Umm. I'm not sure. He was a detective."

"That son of a bitch. His high and mighty finally drags himself back home but can't be bothered to actually see anyone. Just for business. Just my fist through your SKULL!"

He threw an explosive punch. Blood splattered as his fist finally broke through the heavy wood.

Peter, on the other hand, went wide eyed. In contrast to the brawler's boiling rage, a cold chill ran down his body as the other man's words sunk in. Shoving Yegor out of the way, he launched his foot into the hidden door, blowing it from its hinges in one kick.

Yegor's jaw hit the ground.

"Are you just trying to show me up more‽" he bellowed.

"No. You need to get to the Blue Sturgeon. Now," commanded Spider-man.

"What are you-"

"NOW," he commanded throwing a finger.

For the first time Yegor met the other man's gaze, and he faltered. It wasn't the same guy he had met in the ring. His smooth face was intense, inexplicably lacerating and brutal. His eyes had lost every ounce of their warmth and were instead cold, heavy, and willing to throw their weight at him.

Yegor took a step back.

"GO!" shouted Spider-man losing his patience.

Throwing one last look over his shoulder, the former champion finally complied and took off, out the broken door and up the stairs. He had no idea the night that awaited him.

Peter did.

The lost super hero relaxed. His face and shoulders dropped as he clamped a hand over an eye and grimaced.

Then he went to find Wolverine.

An unconscious combatant was dragged out of the ring as another victor was pronounced before the crowd. Amongst the pumps and cheers, Spider-man was able to make his way back up the stands to meet Logan. He looked happier than he had ever seen him.

"Hey Wolvie. You fight yet?" he asked unenthusiastically.

"Nope," said the older mutant with a leer.

"Oh. That's surprising."

Logan let out a dark chuckle.

"I counted. There are eighty-three of us tonight."

"So?"

"So, I'm waitin' to fight the eliminator."

As the night progressed, the basement became hot and muggy, thick with humidity and the fighters' hot breath, blood and sweat.

A pile of combatants too miserably injured to stand huddled in the floor, their eyes swollen, noses bloodied, and lost teeth held in hand. Half the room had lost the symbols from their arms, their brawls lost and their vows fulfilled. Half, except for one extra.

With a whistle, a cheer, and a reward, the latest loser and the latest victor both limped over to join the men on the floor.

"Well, well, well," said the announcer sauntering into center stage. "What a night. Eighty-two combatants, forty-one fights, forty-one winners!"

The crowd cheered.

"But what's this? I do believe we have eighty-three brawlers in here tonight. Isn't that right ref?"

The air started vibrating with excitement as the ref nodded.

"By my calculations it seems we've got one brawler left. You know what that means!"

The stands rumbled a thunderous cheer. Even after hours of brutalization, the men were still electric.

"E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!" they chanted as Urrl threw out his arms and stepped into the ring.

The ref pointed at Wolverine.

Ignoring the men who let out gasps and laughs when they saw who had been caught, the burly mutant hopped out of his clothes and threw them at Spider-man. He jogged down into center stage.

"You really should have volunteered sooner," said the ref.

Logan just gave him a smug grin.

"I waited. Name's Wolverine by the way."

The ref blinked.

Wolverine and Urrl squared up. The mutant paled under the eliminator's mere shadow, his brow only reaching his chest.

"Give us a blood bath Urrl!" shouted a brawler beside Spider-man.

"I guess the lesson hasn't sunk in for you guys yet has it."

Wolverine paid the crowd and the hecklers no mind. His face was stern with concentration, his steely blue eyes scanning over his opponent.

He raised his fists, lowered his head, and bent his knees deep.

The announcer held up his bell.

"BLLANGGG!"

Wolverine charged across the ring, his adamantium filled fist rocketing into the giant's gut.

Urrl let out a scream, staggering in surprise but managing to tank the hit. He clenched his wall like abs and threw his hands around his smaller opponent. Wolverine was wrenched clean off the floor and slammed into the stone ground.

The stands hollered.

Logan landed flat on his back with a gasp, his spine and skull rattling against the pavers. In his spotty vision he saw a massive bare foot coming down at him. He rolled to dodge, landed on his hands, and launched himself back to his feet in a flying push-up. The crowd roared as he lunged back into the fight.

He knew he had to get back in fast. If Urrl managed to keep him at arm's length he wouldn't even be able to land a kick on him, let alone a punch. The height difference was that extreme. He wasn't even going to think about the weight.

The massive brawler threw a punch and Logan dodged, swerving low and coming in with a jab. He was back inside, right against the giant's ribs. He drove into them like a jack hammer hoping the more exposed bone would yield better results. Unfortunately, Urrl had a lot more durability than it looked like he did, and that was saying something. He threw his arm down on him, forcing his neck beneath his tricep and bringing his other arm up to clamp around his chin. Just like that, Wolverine was caught in a lethal headlock.

The brawlers thundered in his ears.

Wolverine swore at his own stupidity. One of his hands reflexively leapt to the arm around his windpipe, desperately yanking against it. His other hand was sent to go over his opponent's shoulder. It was the first step in escaping the lock and he knew it well. One problem. He couldn't reach his shoulder! Doubled over beneath his gigantic opponent's arm, his hand only clawed its way up to a collar bone. Wolverine was physically too small to escape the guillotine hold!

"Uh oh! Looks like it's all over for tonight's eliminatee!" the announcer mocked.

Veins bulged on Wolverine's forehead as black swelled in his vision, his lungs jerking for the air that refused to enter his crushed esophagus. His free hand punched at whatever it could find and a leg searched in vain for something to kick. No matter his effort, Urrl refused to release him.

As the stands cheered for him to end it, the eliminator gave his audience the knowing nods of a showman. Then it happened in slow motion.

Wolverine felt the massive 'man' begin to lift his body off the ground. With his head trapped and his windpipe bent over an arm, the move would all but fold his neck in on itself with his own weight, instantly cutting off all blood to his brain. Knock out. Just like that.

No way.

It was in absurd moments like this when the all but immortal mutant knew he had nothing to lose.

Instead of fighting against it, as Urrl lifted him from the ground, Wolverine leapt into the pull. He kicked off with enough force to send him flipping up and over his chest. His head slid free and he rolled over Urrl's shoulder as he stumbled from the sudden weight exchange.

The crowds shrieked.

Urrl didn't go down but it didn't matter. It was all over. Wolverine landed behind him and spun a kick into the back of the giant's knee.

With a cry and a rattle, the leg buckled and his opponent hit the ground. Without giving him a second's recovery, the mutant sprinted forward and threw his heel into the side of his face. Spit flew! And the eliminator, the giant that he was, went limp and hit the ground with a heavy thunk.

A whistle blew.

"Knock out!" declared the ref.

The brawlers screamed and cheered as Wolverine stepped around Urrl's unconscious body and threw his hands up in victory.

"The Wolverine!" shouted the announcer over the deafening applause. The coin girl gave him his reward and even a little kiss.

"What a sight! What a move! The absolute durability!" continued the announcer.

Even the guys on the ground levered themselves to their feet to give him a standing ovation. As a few brawlers came up and dragged Urrl's unconscious body out of the ring, Wolverine jogged back up into the stands.

"Really?" scolded Peter before he had even reached him. "A kick to the head? You could have killed him."

"For cryin' out loud! Can you liven up for four seconds? Everyone here knows what they're in for," he said slicking his sweaty hair out of his face.

The audience quieted down as the announcer and ref retook the ring.

"Brawlers of Newport, I truly can't say I've seen anything like it," said the announcer. "The reigning champ and the eliminator! Both failed in round one by a pair of the most unassuming virgins I've ever seen. Brawlers, let's give them another round of applause," he said throwing a hand toward the metahumans.

Wolverine crossed his arms with satisfaction and Spider-man looked intensely uncomfortable.

"For the victors," announced the ref quieting them again. "You must fulfill your oath and fight round two tomorrow night, same time. You losers are welcome to come watch the show."

"Brawlers of Newport, goodnight!"

With a final grunting hoorah, the men disbanded. They exited the stands and headed toward the door. Many were giving each other good hearted thumps and thunks, laughing amongst themselves through the sweat and blood. Others were helping the injured to their feet. The ref and announcer were holding things under Urrl's face trying to revive him.

"So, you find anything?" muttered Wolverine quietly.

A man came by and thunked him on the back.

Without even saying anything, he returned the gesture.

"Um, not much," whispered Spider-man looking over his shoulder. "I think that champion guy knew our detective."

"Really now? Where is he?"

"I told him he needed to get down to the inn."

"You let him go? How'd he even get out?"

"I…"

"HEY! What happened to the door‽" barked Urrl popping off the ground.

The brawlers huddled around the exploded door with fascination as Wolverine gave Spider-man a look.

Night in Newport, even as a city, in this world, was dark and quiet. Ripples from the river lapped against the cobbled flood walls. The crooked narrow alleys, overflowing with residents by day, were eerie and empty save for scouring vermin. The same sort of small feathered dinosaur leapt from a barrel and sunk its teeth into a squealing rat.

Somewhere along the midwest bank, across tall bridges and down winding streets, between stone arches and wooden spires, a large inn sat overlooking the river. A pair of rosy cheeks were painted onto a carved man by a wooden lighthouse. He stood on his sign overtop the words "The Lost Wickie".

Amongst the inn's many rooms, a single window was lit by candle light, the small orange glow glistening in the black water far below.

All five Far Marvels were piled into one of their new rooms, their four bedder for the males.

Wyn triumphantly held up a soggy saddlebag.

"Holy cow, it really was in the river?" asked Spider-man. He and Boksee were sat on his bed. Logan and Nih had taken another and Wyn was spread out in the floor.

"Actually, it was in a sewer."

Both metahumans cringed away from it.

"What? It's leather. We rinsed it off," said Boksee.

"I'll add typhoid to my list of contracted diseases of the night," said Spider-man.

"Keep it away from the beds," grunted Logan. "Did the flat foots give you any trouble?" he asked turning to Nih as Wyn unlatched the bag.

"If you are referring to the authorities, then not at all," replied the elf pleasantly. "I wasn't able to learn anything but they didn't try to imprison me."

"What'd you say to them?" asked Spider-man.

"They approached me and asked what my involvement in all this was, so I earnestly told them the victim was a private investigator who was working for a secret cabal of renegade magic users who was killed by an assassin he hired to kill us. I suggested it may be something worth speaking to their higher-ups about and that we'd be happy to share all we have discovered."

"And what did they say‽"

"They helpfully informed me public intoxication was a crime and suggested I retire for the night," Nih said with a sardonic smile.

Wolverine rolled his eyes with a groan.

"Alright," said Wyn starting to pull things out. "Looks like we've got a change of clothes, personal hygiene…"

"Snacks," said Spider-man as she pulled out a hunk of bread and salted meat.

"Don't eat that," said Wolverine.

"Ah ha!"

She pulled out a handsome book fastened with a leather band.

"A journal!" said Boksee excitedly.

"This must have been his professional log, all his notes and clues and payments. We should have one of these," said Wyn impressed. She undid the buckle and began flipping through pages.

"What've we got?" asked Logan.

The paladin's face fell.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" the party all but asked in unison.

She turned the journal around showing them nothing but empty pages.

"Why would he not write anything?" asked Spider-man. "Why carry it around if he's not using it? Did he literally just buy it?"

"No," said Wyn. "He has been using it. I've heard about these sorts of enchanted tomes but I've never seen one before. The writing only appears if he's holding it. By the divine, this must have cost him a fortune."

"Woah, you guys have an encryption spell? Why haven't our baddies been locking up their letters like this?"

"Would have saved them a whole heap of trouble," agreed Logan.

"You see this tiny gem?" she said pointing to a glowing crystal in the book's binding. "It's a mana vessel. It's the book that's enchanted; the pages are useless on their own."

"Then let's just break it," said Logan.

"I believe that would only cause the writing to be lost forever," said Nih.

"Fine, what are our options here? Do we need to go grave robbin'?"

"I'm sure that wouldn't work."

"Yah," said Spider-man. "It's gotta be activated by his mana right? No mana if you're dead."

"Do you think the spell can be reversed?" asked Boksee. "I'm not the most versed in magic but I know counter spells exist. Maybe there's someone in this large of a city that can pull it off."

"Maybe," said Wyn mulling it over. "But it might raise questions we don't want to answer." She let out a huff. "Let me think about this."

"Step forward, step back," grunted Logan sourly. "I'm gettin' sick of dancin'."

"How about you two?" asked Wyn sliding the detective's journal into her personal bag. "You were gone for quite awhile. Were you able to find out what he was up to tonight?"

At the question, Peter's face dropped like a rock while Logan's spread into a wide grin.

"A fight club?" snapped the paladin incredulous. "He was visiting a fight club? Really? On the job?"

"A secret underground fight club!" exclaimed Boksee bouncing on Spider-man's bed. "This guy knew how to live!"

Wyn baulked.

"Really ranger, I expected better. It sounds like a group of brain-dead males injuring themselves for no reason."

"Oh don't be such a prude. Everyone needs to let out the primal drive to beat the shit out of each other every so often. We're just fortunate that we get paid for it."

"There's prize money for each win, and a champion pot," said Wolverine.

"I stand corrected. You get paid too!"

"Yah, that's all it needs," grouched Spider-man.

"What's the matter with you? You're as much of a wet blanket as the paladin," she said impishly whacking him with his own pillow.

"I have some bad memories of fighting for cash. Sorry if I'm not thrilled about the arrangement."

"I wonder if you can join on the second day."

"Ranger!" snapped Wyn.

"What? It's good combat experience."

"The experience of being ground into a fine red paste? You're great with a bow but you're a four-foot-nothing female half-halfling.

"It's not like we don't have a healer."

"A healer, not a necromancer."

"What do you call a lady halfling," asked Spider-man randomly distracted. "There has to be a better word than that."

"A hinwif," said Boksee. "But that's beside the point."

"Agreed," said Wyn. "The point is, I'm glad you two had your fun…"

"I didn't," said Spider-man.

"But we should be moving on. Let's just look into reading this journal and get out of here."

Spider-man groaned.

"Ugh, we can't. We've got to finish the stupid tournament. We'll die of bloody dysentery if we leave, or at least I will. Logan might just get cursed with an eternal butt bleed. Then he'll have to shop in the women's hygiene aisle and take iron tablets."

Every other member of the party, even the one that knew what he was talking about, gave him a disturbed look.

"You… have a very dark sense of humor," said Boksee.

"It's not a joke! I'm serious. They made us swear on an evil magic ball or something," he said pulling up his sleeve to show his symbol. It glowed a hot red in the dim room.

The three native adventurers gasped.

"Are you serious?" demanded Wyn. "They have a parfitath?"

"Is that what a swear ball is called?" asked Logan.

"It's illegal for citizens to have a parfitath! They're reserved for the high courts under the strictest of laws and procedures. There are entire schools of ethics derived around them, treaties and war crimes."

"Well, they got one."

"And they set it to give you the bloody flux?" snickered Boksee.

"This isn't funny!" harped Wyn. "It's a gross misuse of a contrabanded magical item. This is something we should be trying to shut down, not indulging in."

"But if we shut it down, then they won't be able to complete the tournament," argued Boksee. "And what if the ball reads that as them quitting? Then Spider-man's going to die of bloody poops. Do you want that on your conscious?"

"That's ridiculous. You just want to join."

"But do you want to take that chance?"

"I don't want to take that chance," said Spider-man.

"Fine," groaned Wyn. "I guess we'll hang around town for a couple more days so you two can pointlessly beat the shit out of people."

"And let them have all the fun? I'm coming with!" declared Boksee.

"What a surprise."

"You two could join too," grinned Logan. "You know, if they let you in on the second day."

"What‽"

"For what reason?" asked Nih plainly.

"You got anything better to do?" asked Wolverine with a smug shrug.

"It's excellent combat experience," re-iterated Boksee.

"Could always use more money."

"Partake of the local culture."

"See Ms. Paladin in her skimpies," whispered Wolverine leaning across the room. Boksee put a hand over her mouth.

The silver rank's eyebrow twitched. She moved to throttle them both but Peter interrupted.

"Actually," he said meekly. "I'd like it if you guys came too."

"Heh?"

"I think the previous champion knew our detective," he explained. "Said his name was Maksim. I didn't really get to talk to him a lot last night, but I think they were close. We don't have any other leads right now. I could use some help in there. Plus, you know, without you, I'd be there stuck alone with Wolverine again."

"Ah, a reasonable request," said Nih. "And there's no punishment for losing, correct?"

"Nothin' but bruises," said Wolverine.

"Or permanent bodily injury," cranked Wyn.

"I'll participate. I don't suspect I will get far, but as you said, I have nothing better to do."

The rest of the party all looked down at Wyn.

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she growled rubbing her temple. "I suppose someone has to keep an eye on you lot."

Wolverine and Boksee cheered.

With nothing much to do in town, the team spent the day shopping, training at the local adventurer's guild, and puzzling over their journal. Wyn visited the city convent and returned with a report of an unusually large number of men at the healers. They were being tended to by some very agitated nuns trying their hardest to get an explanation out of them. Of course, they received none.

Eventually dusk fell across the twin rivers. Shops closed and their keepers headed home. Doors and windows were thrown open letting thick smoke and the smell of cooking dinners into the streets. Entire neighborhoods stood about the crowded rows of houses, mingling and playing in the ending day.

Making their way through the domestic idyll, the adventurers headed toward the dark outline of the far-off docks.

"How did you even get roped into this?" asked Wyn to Spider-man. A fishing boat rang a bell as it passed.

"I got peer pressured."

A horrible hoarse groan sounded from a nearby window. It was followed by a woman's scream.

Spider-man stood to attention so quickly the others noticed.

"Relax sapphire," said Boksee. "Haven't you ever heard a baby being born?"

The woman let out another scream and sob as a filled chamber pot was tossed out the same window.

"Sounds of the city," mused Nih.

"No city I'm used to," mumbled Spider-man.

"Don't have babies where you're from either?" teased Wyn.

A nun and a hefty worker, maybe on the younger side, were arguing in their open doorway.

"The child will be arriving this night!" barked the nun. "Where by the king's beard do you have to be that's more important‽"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen! It's a matter of life and death!"

His wife let out another scream as the man took off toward the docks, a single cloth bandaged wrapped around the top of his arm.

"One guess where he's goin'," smirked Logan.

"Bless that poor woman she married an idiot," said Wyn face palming.

"HEAVE!"

Calloused hands and drenched tunics pulled a crate from a barge.

Most of the dockers, busy with their own hard and necessary work, were happy to pay the adventurers no mind as they made their way toward the warehouse. In many ways, the dockers were the unsung heroes of the city, keeping the vital exchanges moving by trading hours of their sweat for their families' livelihoods.

Men shouted as they continued to lift massive crates by rope and pulley. A whistle was blown and a trio of magic users ran to a struggling barge, combining their power to surge the water and send it toward safety.

But for all its value and necessity, the west end, and especially its docks, didn't receive their unflattering reputation without reason.

Warehouse nineteen in sight, the party was approached by a worker. He lumbered toward them out of the foggy dusk, half a bottle of rum in his hand and the other half on his breath.

"You two must be new," he slurred at Wyn and Boksee. He turned to Logan. "I'll take the tall one when you've had your fill."

Boksee's jaw fell open, then her cheeks went red. She moved to shout but Wyn put out a hand to stop her.

"Just because a lady is found walking on the dock does not mean she's a dock walker," she said with an edge like steel. She pulled out her holy symbol and aimed it at him like she was warding off a vampire. "Would your mother be proud of a son who drinks himself stupid and indulges himself in prostitution?"

"What‽" gasped the man taken completely aback. "You miserable hag! My mother met her grave in my youth."

"And what a son she left behind," she said giving him a look of ice and contempt.

The docker moved to say something, but instead, his face and bottle fell. The adventurers watched as he wordlessly turned and sulked away.

"Oh my gosh. You just paladin stank eyed him into submission," said Spider-man. He chuckled. "I know some men that would pay good money for that."

"I might," smiled Logan. "I'd deserve it."

"What by the divine are you two talking about?"

"Masochism," answered Nih pleasantly.

They watched as the worker passed a pair of actual dock walkers who huffed in offence when he ignored them. One looked to their party with hope, then saw Nih and quickly averted her gaze.

"Some man here is buying us a drink after all this," Wyn grouched.

Logan hammered on the warehouse door. A hatch opened, and a familiar pair of eyes glared down at him.

"Broo-"

"Wolverine!" husked the eliminator happily stepping out. The women and Nih baulked at the size of him.

"Hey Urrl," said Logan. "How's the head?"

"Would have been a lot worse if I actually had any brains to knock around," he said lightheartedly. "Oh, and Spider-man. Guess I have to really eat my words on the weaner comment don't I?"

At the word, both women snorted to hold in their laughter. Peter whipped toward them.

"See you've brought some more fresh meat," he said looking at Nih.

"I hope that's acceptable," replied Nih calmly.

"I'd recommend dropping three feet of hair willow wood," he said only having to look down slightly to meet his gaze. "But sure, come on in."

The bouncer moved aside to let Wolverine, Spider-man and Nih into the warehouse, but as the women moved to enter, a massive hand was held up to stop them.

"Sorry ladies. No man here wants to beat the shit out of a couple lovely young maidens."

"What‽ There's a lady right there!" snapped Boksee. There was a hulking woman already inside making her way down the stairs.

"Was she here last night?" whispered Spider-man. Logan nodded.

"Matilda ain't a lady!" replied Urrl.

"Hey," snarked Peter sticking his head back out the door. "They're with us. I think you've learned not to judge our group by our looks at this point, right?" he said with an unspoken threat on his voice.

"Rhg, fine. Nobody better get mad at me though," grouched the enormous bouncer as Wyn and Boksee entered.

"Thanks Webs," said Boksee casually.

He was giving them both a glare.

"What?"

"You laughed! What does it mean? Why does he keep calling me a wiener?"

The women both jerked to hold in another laugh.

"Oh, um, well, basically," struggled Boksee. "He's, um, he's calling you a piglet, you know, one who's just been weaned off its mother."

"Or a baby cow," added Wyn.

They both lost the battle and burst out laughing.

"What‽ I'm not that much younger than you two."

"I think it's more of your demeanor," said Boksee. "…and face."

"I have a weaner face‽"

The party stepped into the basement and joined the hoard. If Peter stood out last night, tonight their group was a pariah. Eyes were landing on Wyn, a woman amongst the brawny sweaty masses, Boksee, who many perceived as a tiny she-dwarf, and Nih, a thin but towering dark elf, his long and slender grace as at home amongst the brawlers as a unicorn in a bull pen.

"WELCOME, WELCOME BRAWLERS OF NEWPORT!" proclaimed the announcer over the crowd just as the night before.

"They call themselves brawlers?" asked Wyn.

"Yah?" said Spider-man.

"Hrm."

Wolverine pulled off his shirt.

"Ok," said Spider-man turning to him now.

"What?"

He motioned to everyone around them doing the same thing. Even Matilda had shed her tunic, flexing her abs in nothing but the thin fabric of her breast support.

"I swear she wasn't here last night," said Spider-man.

"You just weren't paying attention. She went on while you were fuckin' around with doors or whatever."

Wyn realized what she had been dragged into and went wide eyed.

"Do you see our champion?" she asked quickly looking around.

"Previous champion," corrected Logan.

"What does he look like?"

"Six-five, blonde, mustache, fauxhawk. You can't miss him," said Spider-man.

"I'm not seeing anyone like that," said Boksee.

"Nor do I," said Wyn.

"Do you smell him?" Boksee asked to Wolverine.

"It all blends together in here."

"I wonder why," snarked Peter dryly.

A brawler took off his filthy shirt, used it to wipe the sweaty brown smears from his brow and pits, and tossed it in a four-foot pile of discarded clothing.

As the party approached the ref and swear ball, they noticed the men didn't have to pay again. Made sense. Instead, they were either proudly showing their glowing symbols or enduring a bit of ribbing as they were recognized as one of yesterday's losers.

"Ok, everyone make sure to use your own knife," said Peter.

"Spider-man, Wolverine, our grand upsets," said the ref as the party walked up. "Ready to hand two more brawlers their manhood in a coin purse?"

"Absolutely," growled Wolverine excited.

"Spider-man, last tourney's champion usually doesn't go down so fast, but since you were the one to do it, we're going to have you start the rounds, at least until you're toppled."

"Ok," he said shrugging.

"Just be at the ready down with Urrl."

"Oh, ok," he said much more disappointed.

The two metahumans walked inside.

"Now then, we've got some new faces. Some very new faces. You with them?"

"Yes," said Wyn.

"Did they explain the payment to you?"

"Indeed."

The ref grabbed a knife and handed it to them. Wyn put up a hand and they all pulled their own side arms.

"I've got to keep track of all the second night round-oners, so be on the floor in the front. Now remember, once entered you have to finish either by winning or being eliminated. You quit and…"

"We get the bloody flux, we know," said Wyn unimpressed.

"Oh lighten up paladin," said Boksee beaming.

With a flinch, she cut her hand and slapped it to the orb. It glowed red and the small half-halfling happily trotted past. The ref made a concerned face but didn't push it. Wyn and Nih put their blood to the parfitath and entered after her.

They were again among the last to enter the stadium, but there was still no sign of the previous champion.

"Guess ol' Yegor was too ashamed to show his face back here again," sneered Logan. "Can't blame him."

"Or something," muttered Spider-man quietly.

The party did as asked and went their separate ways. The newbies took the floor at the front with a few others, Wolverine stood behind them on the first row of stands, and Spider-man found his spot by the ring.

Urrl, in nothing but his braise, came up to join him soon after. Peter looked absolutely ridiculous compared to the behemoth. Urrl got his attention and motioned to his shirt. With a sigh, he understood and stripped off.

The rest of the party were getting ready as well.

Wyn tied up her long lavender hair as Boksee braided Nih's for him, somehow managing to wrangle four feet of glorious silver locks into a tight bun.

"Thank you Boksee."

"By thunder you really do need to shed a few feet."

"I'm always available," goaded Wolverine wrapping his hands.

The ref and announcer stepped into center stage.

"Welcome Brawlers of Newport to night two!" proclaimed the announcer to roaring applause. After introductions and the ref reiterating the rules, the ref turned his attention to the new brawlers in the floor.

"It looks like we've got about half-a-dozen stragglers tonight, so we'll start with a pickup round. You seven will be facing off against each other."

The announcer quickly butted in.

"Meaning UN-lucky number seven will have to take their turn with, say it with me, THE ELIMINATORRR!"

There were whoops and hollers as Urrl flexed.

"And after such a shocking defeat last night, well, I wouldn't want to be the next guy in the ring with him."

Urrl picked up an entire tree trunk and snapped it over his head. Spit and sweat flew as the brawlers sounded their riotous approval.

Peter ducked from the shrapnel.

"Did you bring that in here just for that?" he asked skeptically.

"Alright, if you're gonna be down here you've got to get more into the spirit of this."

"The survivors will join the real event of the night," continued the announcer. "Round two! Where someone here will have the dis-pleasure of facing off against our new usurper, The SPIDER-MAN!"

The brawlers who attended last night cheered, while the new ones just looked confused.

Urrl whacked him and Peter reluctantly gave a few waves.

"Isn't he just too modest? So ref, how do we start?"

The second host landed his eyes on the new combatants with a grin.

"Ladies first."

Boksee stripped off her clothes and gave them to Wyn. The hybrid woman was squat but athletic, her ample chest supported by a hefty concoction of fabric and whalebone.

"Go low and get in close," coached Logan. "Your best bet will be to get him out of the ring. And no bitin'!"

"Don't remind me."

The crowd booed as Boksee entered the ring but it wasn't aimed at her.

"Poltroon!"

"Coward!"

"No fair!" they hissed at her opponent, a laborer with arms like tree trunks and a missing eye. He bit his thumb at the crowd causing even more booing.

"Now now," said the announcer. "She wants to fight and she must have an opponent. We wouldn't want such a sweet little thing facing off against the eliminator would we?" He turned to Boksee. "Try not to die would you. It'll really bring down the mood."

It took just about everything she had not to bite her thumb at him instead.

As the two brawlers took the ring, the laborer leered down at her with excitement. Boksee readied herself. The announcer raised his bell.

"BLLANNGGG!"

The halfling charged at her opponent, ducking under his punch and ramming into his legs. The crowd cheered as the laborer was thrown off his feet, but the momentum was short lived. With them both on the ground, the larger man was quickly able to wrangle over top her and pin her between his legs. He started throttling her, punching at her face, and when she threw up her arms to block, he punished her by pummeling her in the gut instead.

The room was silent while the halfling was beaten, until at long last, the ref blew his whistle.

"That's ten counts on the ground! You're done!"

The laborer hopped off.

A few claps sounded, maybe more from the relief of it being over than anything else.

Boksee, face busted and body curled, staggered back to the stands as the man was pronounced a cheerless victor.

"Are you alright?" exclaimed Wyn.

Boksee tried to clear her bloodied muzzle by running an arm under her nose.

"Aye," she grunted.

Wolverine brought her in with a hand to the shoulder.

"Sorry darlin. Sometimes size does matter."

"You gave it a good fight," said Wyn.

Boksee let out a long dismal breath, her bloodied face scrunching. Then she let it go and smiled.

"Yah. I got a good hit in at least right?" she conceded. "Not bad for a four-foot-nothing female half-halfling. Would have done a lot better if I could bite him."

The adventurers chuckled as Logan gave her a good shoulder wobbling.

"Put your clothes back on. Your maidenhood is showing," said Wyn.

"Oh yah. Guess I'm glad he didn't grope me," she laughed grabbing her tunic.

"Alright purple, you're up!" said the ref throwing a thumb at Wyn.

"Purple?"

"Lose the clothes."

Face blood red but expression stone, the paladin walked out in nothing but her undergarments. Her small linen panties hung close to her toned curves, and although she may have been less endowed then the busty halfling, her more relaxed breast support did little to hide her natural shapes.

There were hoots and whistles from the crowd as she took the ring, including one by Wolverine.

"You shame your mother!" she snapped back at him.

"Yah! Let me have it tuts!"

"Wyn, Wyn!" whisper shouted Spider-man from the sidelines.

"What?"

"I saw some oil checks last night. Protect your virtue. Clench!"

"What‽"

With the ring of the bell, Wyn's match began. Her opponent, a typical brawler moved to ram her out of the ring. It was a mistake. As he came at her, she threw back a foot, anchored herself like a two-ton weight, and careened her left fist into his face before his body reached her.

Blood spirted as the man screamed and recoiled. The crowd hollered and her party cheered.

"Way to go shield maiden!" shouted Boksee.

The seasoned adventurer responded to the brawler's distress with brutality, kicking him in the knee and grabbing his wrist while it buckled. She twisted his arm into an unnatural position as he fell to the floor, threatening to break it behind his back, then finalized her lock by throwing her foot to his neck. The hold was capable of knocking him out, but Wyn refrained. Instead, she let the man lay limply trapped on the ground until the whistle blew.

"Ten counts! You're done!" shouted the ref.

The brawlers roared with applause as Wyn released her opponent, then she offered him a hand.

"Heavens help me," he spat taking it. "And here I was worried about being that guy," he said throwing a glance at the one-eyed brawler. "You're a monster lady," he complimented.

"Well, it is part of my profession," she said pulling her silver tag from her cleavage. The man's eyes brightened.

"Arianwyn!" proclaimed the announcer walking up and yanking her hand into the air.

The coin girl handed Wyn her reward starting up another round of cat calling, and as she moved to join her team, her opponent gave her a thunk on the back. The paladin jolted and ran the rest of the way.

Her party cheered as she regrouped.

"You did Boar Bramble proud today silver!" praised Boksee.

"Uggh! That was far too intimate. I can't believe I let you lot bring me here," she said grabbing her clothes and stuffing them back on.

"You're gonna have to take them off again anyway!"

"He didn't even touch you," said Logan raising an eyebrow.

"Far too intimate! Can I just fight Matilda next?" she said offhandedly pulling on her tunic.

"HA!" shouted the very woman throwing herself between a row of brawlers. She lassoed Wyn into her elbow nearly pulling her from the ground. "You're on sweet cream!"

The team snickered as Wyn's eyes once again went wide.

"Alright elf boy," said Logan to Nih. "You're gonna have to get in this next match. Otherwise you're going up against Urrl."

They looked over to see the 'man' shooting the breeze with Spidey, the latter perhaps rivaling the thickness of the former's arm.

"I certainly don't want that," said Nih.

"Then you better volunteer your skinny ass off."

"Two brawls down, one to go," said the announcer smugly. "Who's it gonna be? Make some noise or you're fighting the eliminator!"

Both of the other remaining brawlers leapt and screamed, waving their arms.

"I would like to fight in this round," said Nih at a normal speaking voice.

His party face palmed.

"Looks like we've got some winners. You and you," said the ref pointing to the men. "You're up."

"Nih!" shouted Boksee.

"I'm not good at raising my voice on command."

"Oh elf boy," said Wolverine still face palming.

One brawl later and Nih was stripping off to enter the ring.

"How many robes do you have‽" barked Wolverine under a pile.

"I have to carry my entire wardrobe wherever I go," said the nomad adding another.

"You got any advice for him against the eliminator?" asked Boksee.

"Yah. Pray."

Nih finally stripped down to his own braies and stepped into the ring. Willow wood was a good word to describe him. By no means malnourished, he was an elf, and a lanky one at that, with an athletic but delicate build compared to the walking mounds of muscle around him. The only physical advantage he usually had, his exceptional height, was clearly of no use compared to the taller and larger Urrl.

"Well isn't this a sight!" shouted the announcer. "It's the virgin dark elf vs the eliminator!"

"Virgin means it's his first night here," said Logan to the women's confused faces.

"Oh,"

The brawlers chanted and roared as Urrl took his place in the ring. Nih's ears pulled back as he took his, his crimson third eyelids sliding over his pupils.

With the bell, the match began. Neiter male charged, instead keeping their guards up and moving in.

Urrl started by throwing a few heavy jabs and Nih responded by dodging. He started dancing to the right, keeping light and on the move, taunting the heavier male to chase him down.

He managed to bait a long right cross out of the giant, and it was what he was waiting for. The dark elf suddenly swerved to the left and nailed his opponent with an upper cut to the ribs.

"YAH! Right in the liver!" shouted Logan as he and Boksee cheered.

Unfortunately, it was for not. If adamantium super punches weren't going to do it, whatever Nih could put out surely wouldn't. Urrl tanked the hit and delivered his elbow right between his eyes.

There was a loud crack as Nih went down.

"OHH!" thundered the crowd.

The ref blew his whistle as the elf writhed on the ground, his hands leaping to his face. Spider-man quickly ran out and moved him to safety as Urrl was pronounced victor, and Nih, the first eliminated.

Nih was holding a blood-soaked rag to his nose.

"Well, that was unfortunate," he muffled. He was back in the stands with his group.

"Did he break anything?" asked Boksee.

"No, I think I'm intact."

"Good thing. You just got your bones all healed."

"Keep your face down," said Wolverine pushing his head forward. "Great effort elf boy. Killer liver shot. Urrl's just a lot tougher than he looks, and he looks pretty fuckin' tough."

"Of course, he's a half ogre," said Wyn.

"Oh, that what he is?"

As the eliminator, and therefore one of the hosts, Urrl received no reward for his victories, at least not monetarily. As he took his leave to thunderous applause the announcer joined the ref in the ring.

"Another four brawlers down and three brawlers moving on," the announcer proclaimed. "I hope you all enjoyed that pick-up round because now is the moment you've been waiting for! Brawlers, it's the fifteenth tourney of Newport ROUND 2!"

The excited crowd of massive leathery men pumped and cried, the air absolutely thumping with the impatience and excitement for their turns in the ring.

"Let's all get our matches out of the way early in case we need to move," said Wyn to Wolverine.

"You're no fun."

"Now to kick things off, Brawlers of Newport, welcome your current usurper, the SPIDER-MAN!"

The men cheered as Peter entered the ring, his lack of any grandeur or showmanship apparently not an issue. They applauded his uninterested walk regardless.

The announcer turned to him.

"So then usurper, the champion is a hard act to follow. Anyone here catch your…"

"You've got to be kidding! That‽" shouted someone from the stands.

The room turned to see the one-eyed brawler motioning to Peter in disbelief.

"That's the guy you choose to parade around? He looks like he's never seen a day's work in his life! How much is this pretty little waif paying you scum?" he demanded of the hosts.

The crowd looked to the brawler, then to the men in the ring. This time they laughed at him instead of Spider-man.

"Am I really that pretty?" sassed Peter quietly to the ref. "Well, I guess compared to you guys. It's like a Goodwill bin of chewed Stretch Armstrongs in here. No offence."

"Well now, looks like your first victim just volunteered," said the announcer strutting over to Spider-man. "He accused you of paying for your position! Show this virgin upstart who you are and why you, are, the, usurrperrrrr!" he reveled getting the stands thundering.

The super hero rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he said sharply apathetic. He motioned for the heckler to enter and went to go stand in his half of the ring. The one-eyed brawler, fresh and pumping from his battle with Boksee, hopped to his feet.

"Avenge me Spidey!" called Boksee.

Despite himself, Peter cracked a little smile. He thought for a moment, then gave her a thumb's up.

The brawler took his position and dropped into a fighting stance, fists raised, and heels bouncing off the floor. Sweat dripped from his slick hair.

Spider-man, standing casually, turned around.

A murmur of confusion rolled through the crowd.

"Oh this ought'a be good," smirked Logan.

"What is this?" demanded the brawler. "Lowly workers like me not worth facing you rich little prick?"

Spider-man didn't move. He gave the announcer a nod.

The brawler all but growled.

"Alright you…"

"BLLANNG!"

Spider-man launched into a backspring. Hands down, feet up, he flew across the ring and landed his legs around the brawler's shoulders. Snapping his spine back to the ground, hands landing, he flung the man like a bucking horse, up and out of the ring. Match time, three seconds.

The crowd exploded.

His entire party, even Wyn and Nih cheered.

The one-eyed brawler landed near the stands with his ass in the air. He was in too much shock to even get up.

Spider-man tried to walk away but the ref caught him around the shoulder and twisted him to face the audience.

"And that's why they call him The Spider-Man!" exclaimed the announcer. "The man's got four arms and four legs! What a show! What a showman! The absolute audacity. And if there was still any doubt he was paying us off…"

The announcer dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of his own coins. He dropped them into Spidey's reward.

"I think a stunt like that deserves a bonus! Wouldn't you?"

Peter recoiled as the announcer forced the money into his hand.

"Usurper reigns!"

After being pronounced the victor, Spider-man finally escaped and hurried into the stands to rejoin his party.

"My knight in colorful undergarments," fawned Boksee lightheartedly.

"Crap. Took it too far," he hissed wrangling his pants on and stuffing his coin bag into them.

"What are you talking about? You didn't even knock him out," said Wyn.

"It doesn't matter."

The round continued when Wyn was all but carried into the ring by an enthusiastic Matilda. During the course of a very vocal match, (the vocals being that of a thrilled room of sweaty adrenaline filled men watching two women fight), the pair ended up in the floor.

Wyn got her legs around the larger woman's neck, and after an excruciating choke hold, scraped out a second-round win.

"Way to go tuts," congratulated Logan.

Wyn wiped her brow and grabbed her clothes, dawning them for the second time.

"Spidey, we're free, want to look around? Nih, we'll call if we need you."

"What about us?" asked Boksee.

"Do you really want to skulk around grasping at straws for clues instead of watching the round?"

"Nooo….?"

"Exactly. Come on webs. I could use someone with decent stealth skills."

"Gladly."

"Take care of your brawl in case we need you," she added at Wolverine.

"Fine ya' hard ass."

Wyn and Peter snuck off as the next match placement began. One brawler was shouting and waving particularly desperately.

"Hey, isn't that the guy who's having the baby," said Boksee recognizing him.

"Yah…" said Logan. "Heh, how about I show the guy some mercy?"

"You're too good for this world."

"Damn straight."

Wolverine let out a piercing whistle between his fingers, grabbing the hosts' attention, then threw a thumb at himself.

"Hold on! It looks like The Wolverine is chomping at the bit," exclaimed the announcer. "I'd say he's earned his pick. Come on down!"

The husky mutant quickly hopped out of his pants and shoes and strode into center stage.

"You!" he shouted pointing at the desperate brawler. "We've got some business."

"Oooooo," the crowd sounded.

Fear flickered across the brawler's face, but he quickly ran in to join him.

The two took their places.

"Listen friend," said Logan. "I know you got better places to be tonight. Give it your all, and I'll try to make sure you ain't too busted to get home."

The brawler's mouth dropped open.

"By the divine! How did-"

"Don't matter. Let's go."

The announcer whacked the bell.

It took less than a minute for Wolverine to punish the man over the chalk line with a barrage of strikes and shoves. With a final slug to the gut, the whistle blew, and the bloodied brawler collapsed outside the ring. The symbol disappeared from his arm.

"THE WOLVERINE!"

After receiving his reward and applause, Logan made his way over to his downed opponent. He extended a hand.

"Come on ya' idiot."

"Holy…" gagged the brawler through bloody teeth. He let Wolverine pull him to his feet, then followed him as they headed toward the eliminator.

"Hey Urrl, wanna let this guy out for me?" asked Wolverine as the next match started up.

"What‽ I don't let anyone out early."

"I'll give you a finger!" pleaded the brawler. "Please, just let me out!"

Urrl looked excited before Logan cut him off.

"His wife is literally trying to shoot out a kid right now."

"Oh."

"It's our first one! I'm sorry! I'm an idiot! They said it was supposed to be under the full moon! It's always under the full moon! What if something happens!"

"Yah yah," said Urrl. "Heavens help you. I'll let you go this one time, but I at least want your hair."

The brawler, now sheered to the scalp, ran through the recently repaired door, waving back in inexpressible gratitude as he leapt up the stairs.

Urrl was holding a small ponytail, chipperly braiding it into a proper trophy.

"So you really collect fingers?" asked Wolverine.

"Oh yah. I've got some great ones. I got a bloody politician's pinkie after finding him in the wrong alley," he laughed stashing the hair in his braise.

Wolverine gave it a weird look. Then an idea crossed his mind.

"So..." he said. "Mind if I ask, the champ, the old champ, you know where he's at tonight?"

"Oh right, Yegor. Wow," said Urrl closing and locking the door. "I'm not sure he's ever gonna recover from this. This hole was his life. It's not going to be the same down here if he never shows again."

"I wanted to talk to him. We met a friend of his at the inn the other night."

"A friend? Yegor doesn't… Oh! Was it Maksim?"

"Yah."

"By thunder. He finally dragged himself back here? Maybe that's where Yegor ran off to. If there's anything that man would go on about besides the grind, it was his brother. Took off for Ries like it was his divine duty, couldn't care about the rest of us little guys. Left us to rot in the slums, his words."

"Huh."

Urrl's hands glowed and the door disappeared into the wall.

"Honestly, the guy's a muck-sprout. He'll just go on and on. He's legit but the ego made it real satisfying to punch him in the face. Your friend though, I can't get him to talk enough."

"That's a first!"

"Yep," grunted Urrl turning back around. He looked at Logan, and Logan looked back at him in an awkward silence.

"Yep," agreed Logan. "So... know where he works?"

Night two was much shorter than night one since, even with the pick-up round, it only had half the matches. After leaving Urrl and rejoining with Boksee and Nih, Wolverine spent some time just enjoying the show. Wyn and Spider-man eventually slunk back with nothing to report, but Spider-man did get to add the plague to his list of diseases after an encounter with a sewer rat. Wolverine told them what he had uncovered about Yegor, and round two ended with another unlucky brawler getting smeared into the pavers by the eliminator.

It was morning at the Lost Wickie. Plates clattered and taps poured. The adventurers were sat in a courtyard outside the open dining room.

Spider-man held Nih's breakfast beer to his mouth before handing it back to him.

"So we're agreed," said Wyn. "We want to catch him at the end of his shift and not the beginning?"

"No use visiting the docks twice," said Logan. "9:00 gives us plenty of time to conversate," he said stuffing a hunk of bread and cheese down his throat.

As Spider-man poisoned tested another tankard, a cup of real tea was placed before him. He looked up to see Boksee giving him a warm smile.

"Maybe we won't even need to," she said taking her seat. "If you two can actually pull this off."

Wyn and Nih had the detective's journal on the table, and were looking over a few notes and tomes.

"It's best to get all the info we can," said Wyn. "Ok, are you ready to give this a try Nih?"

"I suppose."

He reviewed the notes one more time, then spread the journal's pages wide.

"Oh wait," said Spider-man. He webbed over a nearby potted plant and shoved it by Nih.

"That helps right? It makes the druid magic stronger?"

"Oh my snail ears," he sighed. "I appreciate the thought."

Clearing his throat, the elf held his hands over the journal.

"By the magical weave that bind's all things," he chanted. His palms glowed and his hair waved. "By the first fire that gave us knowledge. By the will of we living who all must endure, may the binding of this tome be released. Release!"

The adventurers stared down at the journal, but the pages remained blank. Amusingly, the plant Peter had brought over grew a few more leaves.

"Oh well. It was worth a shot," shrugged Boksee.

"I've never tried to write a spell before," said Nih.

"Practical spellcraft for anything above the novice is hard to find in a public library," explained Wyn to Spider-man and Wolverine. "And what we could find regarding antimancy was outside the realm of a druid's expertise."

"No offence?" asked Spider-man.

"What? Anyway we thought we'd at least try applying some of the principles we gathered."

"It was an idea," said Boksee.

Just a little crest fallen, Wyn regathered the journal, slipping it into her bag, then brought out another book to read while the adventurers continued their breakfast.

"Do you think they make antimancy potions?" asked Spider-man. "Like is there a potion we could pour on it?"

"Maybe. They might make anti-magic potions, but I think if we tried pouring one on our journal it would just ruin it," said Boksee.

"What would even hold the magic of… not magic?" asked Spider-man thinking.

"You're the one studying potioncraft."

"Red tape," grunted Logan.

Wyn suddenly popped up from her book.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew the term brawler sounded familiar."

"Because it's a word?" asked Boksee.

"Because it's an adventurer class!" she said holding up Cock.

"What? I've never heard that."

"One guess where this is going," smirked Logan. Spider-man gave him an eyebrow.

"You've never heard of it because the class hasn't been canonized," replied Wyn.

"So it's not a class then," said Nih. "Far be it from me to question the intricacies of the common tongue, but I am fairly certain that is what non-canonical means," he said taking a bite.

"And here I thought you needed a spell to spit fire," grin Wolverine.

Wyn pursed her lips.

"Classes don't just spawn from the ether," she lectured. "We shouldn't dismiss one simply because it hasn't yet been formally approved. After all druid, it wasn't so long ago that your own class wasn't yet canonized. Or yours barbarian."

Wolverine shrugged at the dressing down.

"I only bring it up because it's not a prestige class. It's a base class. And honestly, Spider-Man has done exceptionally well in a brawler's club."

"Ha! I knew it!" shouted Logan.

"Oh no. You're seriously thinking I might be one of those idiots?" complained Peter.

"I don't know paladin," said Boksee. "He doesn't seem to have the same… aura as that lot."

"Vibe," said Peter.

"No, I agree. According to my notes I already dismissed the brawler class because even though it focuses on hand-to-hand combat and doesn't require a spiritual discipline, the class is defined by its… let's say scrappiness. As adventurers, brawlers are known to fight dirty and by any means to achieve their goals. Dirt in the eyes, found weapons, maiming."

"Oh, certainly not," said Nih referring to Spider-man.

"But you can't deny webs has an unchallenged command of the ring."

"Wolverine is the brawler here, clearly," argued Peter.

"Yes, he gets along very well with that group, but a canon class fits him better so I stand by barbarian."

"Ugh."

"Have you done something like this before?" she asked. "You're not even trying and the brawlers still seem to gush over you."

"Well, I mean," he replied lamely picking at his food. "I was a wrestler for a bit, but that's not really the same thing…"

Logan looked at him.

"Really?" asked Wyn furiously flipping pages.

Boksee snorted.

"A wrestler?" she asked. "You mean those oily naked guys?"

Nih's face lit up.

"No! Well, maybe the oily part. I'm not talking about the old wrestling where you roll around on the floor for a bit. I doubt you have it here, but the wrestling I did is more of a show than anything else. Big stadium, square ring, eccentric costumes and personas. A real showy thing."

"You mean like this?" asked Wyn. She turned Cock around showing an illustration of a muscular man in an animal mask leaping from a standard three rope ring.

"Woah. Yah. That's exactly it," said Spider-man surprised. He took the book and scanned it over. "Huh, I guess they do have it here. That's weird."

"That is weird," said Wolverine looking over.

"It says here there are two schools of wrestling" explained Wyn pointing at the page. "Pále is the kind Boksee's thinking of, it's ancient, but there's also Genzoian. I don't believe you can find it in Strana, but the author of this compendium traveled the realms. Of what I've read, Genzoian wrestling is a grand affair of skill and pageantry invented by a mighty beast slaying adventurer."

"Hold on," said Boksee. "Wrestler is in Cock? Does that mean… Is it an adventurer class?"

"What? No," said Spider-man.

"Well, It's not canonized, like the brawlers, but it's in here," said Wyn retaking the book. "And it's not a prestige class either."

She read out some of the listed characteristics and abilities.

"Unarmed strikes, acrobatics, taunts? Unarmored defense‽ High flying style!"

"That all sounds like our web head," said Boksee.

"And there are adventurers that go around fightin' like that?" asked Wolverine taken aback.

"According to the compendium there are. They're similar to brawlers and monks in that they use their bodies as weapons, but they also command a hefty amount of charisma, riling opponents into getting careless or rallying a crowd to their needs."

"Huh."

"They even wear masks and give themselves new names," said Wyn reading passionately. "Just like you. Is that where you got that from?"

"Roughly," said Peter affronted. "But masks and alter egos are a dime a dozen. Wolverine has them."

"It explains the lacking clothing," said Boksee looking over with a smirk.

Peter moved to start arguing but Wyn cut him off.

"When did you do this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like what was your age? Where was your career going?"

"Weren't you like fifteen, sixteen when you started all that?" asked Wolverine.

"Yah?"

"That's when you start adventuring," said Boksee.

"Really? That young? Jeeze. No wonder we were called a pair of geezers."

"And was this the first time you took to fighting?" asked Wyn.

"Um, I guess, technically. I mean, like I said, it's more of a show…"

"Spidey, this has to be it! This is your base class."

"Seriously?"

"That's where you started out right?"

"Yah, but that's…weird."

"It had to be weird. Otherwise the paladin would have figured you out months ago," said Boksee. "But does that even count?" she asked Wyn. "It's not like he was an adventurer when he was doing that. He came to us with his prestige."

"Well, like you said. He's weird. I think this makes sense."

Peter huffed.

"Ugh," he groaned. "You keep finding boring answers." Then he gave them a heavy smile. "But I guess you figured it out. Good job Wyn. But there's got to be a fun class in there I can claim. I want to keep looking for that."

"A wrestler who prestiged into a vigilante. How extraordinary," mused Nih ignoring him. "You must tell us how you made that transition."

"I rather not," snapped Spider-man bristling.

"Come on. There's got to be a story there," said Boksee. "What do those two classes even have to do with each other?"

"Ok I'm done," said Peter standing.

"What?"

"With breakfast, I'm done," he said stepping away from his uneaten plate. "9:00 at the west docks. Got it. I'll meet you all there."

"Where are you going?" asked Wyn, but she didn't get a reply as he leapt out of the courtyard.

The adventurers looked at each other.

"What was that about?" asked Boksee.

Wyn shook her head with a shrug.

Wolverine scowled.

Second verse same as the first. The day was spent on errands, training, fruitless journal cracking, and generally killing time in the city. Eventually evening came.

The masts and sails of ferries and barges stood silhouetted against the red sky. A bell sounded across the air.

Four of the Far Marvels were making their way down a riverside street, stark shadows hanging between the cramped alleys. A slight thud from a roof above caught their attention. They looked up to see Spider-man, dressed as Spider-man, hunched over them.

"Am I late?" he asked.

"Nope. Just got two bells. It's 8:30," said Wolverine.

Spider-man hopped down, pulling a web sack from his back and throwing on his civies as they walked.

"Where have you been today?" asked Boksee.

"Oh, nowhere. Just clearing my head."

As the docks came into view, the adventurers came to an abrupt halt.

The entire port was swarming with authorities. Armed guards, their metal chest plates emblazoned with the crest of Newport and the crown were marching about. They were questioning workers and combing through warehouses. A guard yanked up a docker's sleeve.

"Looks like the fuzz is tryin' to find the party," said Logan.

They spotted a docker with his sleeve down trying to hide behind his mates. They were trying to hide him as well as an authority approached.

"Uh oh."

Spider-man yanked out a random piece of cobblestone and launched it across the dock. It hit a ship bell with an ear ringing clank causing every worker and guard to whip toward the sound and grab their ears.

"What a shot!" shouted Boksee.

Wolverine let out a whistle, catching the workers' eye as the guards ran off. They hurried across the dock and into the alley.

"Spider-man! Wolverine!" they exclaimed relieved.

They grabbed arms and shoulders in gratitude.

"They came out of nowhere. I don't know who tipped them off."

"It might not have been anyone," said Wyn.

"Did they find the ring?" asked Wolverine.

"No. We saw them in nineteen but they came back out. They must not have found the door. We're gonna try to sneak the long way around."

"We'll see you there."

The dockers gave them a nod and made their way past.

"We'll go around too," said Wyn once they were out of sight. "Spider-man, take the roof. Look for Yegor."

He gave a salute and hopped back up onto a building.

The rest backtracked into the streets.

Ducking behind a few barrels, a pair of dock walkers fled from the overrun port.

About a mile down river, the adventurers spotted their chiseled blonde brawler, except he wasn't a brawler at the moment. His dingy clothes were just as soaked with sweat and grime as any of the other workers. In stark contrast to his demeanor in the club, they watched as Yegor quietly did as told, following the whistle blows of his superiors, and hefting more than his fair share off a barge and onto his back.

"Ok, how do we talk to him without drawing eyes?" asked Boksee noticing a guard working his way through some nearby workers.

"Yah, you know he's going to make a scene," said Spider-man rolling his eyes.

Wolverine hrmed.

A bell rang three times on a boat.

There was a unified and relieved sigh. The second shift was over. The dockers quickly piled their current loads into a waiting cart pulled by draft horses, and headed off as the next shift took their place.

Throwing down his last crate, Yegor wiped his brow.

"Mind if we chat?" asked a husky voice.

He jerked up to see Wolverine standing beside him.

Yegor's face curled into a fury.

"Get lost before I throw you in the river," he barked stomping away.

Logan saw an authority look in their direction.

"We just wanna talk bub," he said staying on his heels and asking point blank. "We want to know about your brother."

At the word, the mutant saw the muscles of the brawler's drenched back go rigid.

He stopped, then turned, absolute hatred spilling from every line on his face as he glared the smaller man down.

"What do you… Wait, we?"

Logan threw his head toward the alley. The rest of the party was watching them.

The docker's pinpricked eyes landed on them, his face twisting into disgust. Then his breath caught. His mouth slipped open and the whites of his eyes swelled wide.

He plowed into Wolverine, throwing him to the side as he sprinted toward the alley.

"HEY!" the mutant shouted.

The guard noticed Yegor booking it across the dock and leapt to follow.

"Ah shit."

Logan ejected his claws and threw them into the draft horses' harness, shattering it to splinters. They squealed and took off running. Workers shouted and chased after them. It successfully distracted the guard enough for Wolverine to run after him.

Charging into the alley, Yegor grabbed Peter by the collar and pulled him off the ground, slamming him into the wall.

The party leapt to their sidearms but Spider-man's indifference stayed their hands.

"YOU!" screamed the man belligerent. Peter's face was stone. "You knew! They said there was a dark elf there! What did you do‽ You bastard! You killed my BROTHER!"

Wolverine caught up. He grabbed Yegor by the shoulder and pulled him around.

"Back off!"

Yegor rounded to pummel him only for Peter to catch his fist mid strike.

The brawler frothed at him.

"Calm yourself man. We didn't kill anyone," commanded Wyn.

He yanked his fist away.

"The detective in room six was murdered by an assassin he hired," she declared succinctly.

"An assassin‽" he barked whipping to her. "Are you soft‽ My brother didn't hire assassins! He was a free agent of the crown!"

"Sounds like you didn't know him as well as you thought you did," jeered Logan.

He grabbed into Wyn's bag and yanked out Jack's note, shoving it in the larger man's face.

His eyes didn't even meet it.

Instead, he attacked. His fist careened into Wolverine's face, the mutant's head snapping backwards as he stumbled.

The others leapt to his defense but it wasn't needed. Before another hand reached him, Wolverine surged forward and landed his metal slitted knuckles into the brawler's gut. Yegor gasped and doubled over, then was bludgeoned the rest of the way down.

"You wanna try that again?" growled Wolverine as the former champion landed on the cobblestone.

Amazingly, Yegor did. He threw himself at him again and again was put down. The party silently watched as Wolverine forced the man against the wall and hammered his ribs until he collapsed.

"I could do this all day, pal," he said bouncing backwards and throwing open his hands.

And again.

The brawler was back on his feet, going at the smaller, older man with everything he had. The mutant punished him for his impudence by delivering a staggering hook right to his jaw. Spit and blood splattered onto the alley as the brawler flailed into a pile of refuse. He hit the ground, mouth gaping and teeth bright red.

Wolverine braced himself, ready to put him down again, but the old champion was finally down.

He threw his bloody face into the pavers and screamed.

"DAMN YOU! YOU BASTARDS! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! DAMN, Damn it!"

His shouts transitioned to sobs.

"I should have just met him there!" he screamed slamming his fist into the ground. "I was… if I had been there… If I just been there… Why didn't I just meet him there…?"

The adventurers all looked to each other in discomfort as the man wallowed.

With a frown, it was Spider-man who stepped forward. He walked up calmly and dropped to his haunches beside him.

"You couldn't have possibly known," he stated. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The weight of the other man's voice pulled Yegor's face up to meet his, and something was communicated between them.

"We didn't intend for anyone to die," said Wyn. "We just wanted answers," she said flashing him her silver tag.

Yegor's eyes fixated on it.

"We wanted to know who hired him to send an assassin after us. When the assassin failed to kill us, he went after your brother instead, and well, he beat us to him."

The paladin's eyes drifted downwards, then with a grimace, she reached into her bag and brought out the detective's journal.

"We're sorry about your brother," she said holding it out to him.

Yegor looked at it with disdain, then he recognized what it was. His face dropped open in shock.

Spider-man offered him a hand but Yegor didn't take it as he grabbed the book and staggered to his feet.

"I got him this," he said weakly. His voice was low but his hands clutched the leather binding tightly. "Bought it with my first pot. Thought he might need something to keep all his fancy info safe."

Carefully, he unlatched the buckle and gently pulled it open.

To the adventurer's surprise, the writing filled itself in across its pages.

"He wasn't there when I bought it, so I just had it set to our bloodline," said Yegor shrugging. "Y, you wanted to know who hired him?" he grunted looking at the journal.

The adventurers baulked at the question but quickly nodded.

The brawler turned to the final entry and started reading over the pages.

"It doesn't say," he said bluntly.

The party shared a disappointed breath.

"But it's got locations."

He turned the journal around to show them some notes. It was a pro vs con list comparing two settlements. One was "Little Mons" and it was circled. The other…

"Plieya," breathed Wyn.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yes," she said. "That's exactly what we're looking for. Thank you."

Yegor nodded.

"Good. You go kill the bastard that got him roped into this."

"We will," answered Logan.

Yegor turned another page and did a double take. He looked at it, then up to the adventurers, then down to the page once more.

"Heh, look at that," he huffed with a weighted smile. "It looks just like you."

He showed them again. The last things inked into the journal were remarkably life like sketches. They were of the Far Marvels. Peter was right from the beginning as the detective had a visual reference, but the others went through transformations, details changing and faces becoming more refined as he was seemingly given different descriptions. Some were far off but others were close enough to recognize.

Yegor took back his brother's journal, giving it one last longsome look.

"Ol' Max always was a wizard with a quill."

The first stars were peeking through the cloudy vale as the group finally snuck their way to the warehouse. Yegor had tagged along.

The authorities were still on the lookout, but the party's good fortune seemed to have held as there were only a few in sight. They spotted another brawler quietly sneak across the dock. He knocked on the warehouse door and it quickly cracked open to give him entrance.

"Just walk normally," said Boksee to Wyn. "You can't sneak worth a skeever's ass but if you don't draw eyes it won't matter.

Wyn nodded.

"And try not to clonk so loud."

"I'm not even in armor."

"You somehow manage it."

Wyn huffed but readied herself. She stepped out onto the dock and casually made her way across the long expanse of stone and wood. With just a little clonking, she successfully made it to the warehouse door and was let inside.

The party followed suit, each member carefully making their way across until only Peter was left.

He sighed at the sight of the old dilapidated building, but moved to join them regardless.

Yegor caught him by the arm.

"Hey, um…" he started.

"Spider-man."

"Spider-man. Right. Hey, um… win this for me would you?"

"What?" asked Peter completely taken aback.

"It's not so bad losing to the champ, right? I'd like to be able to show my face here again," he said running a hand through his strip of hair. "It's the only thing I ever had worth showing off."

Spider-man bit his lip to suppress a groan.

One night left. Five more rounds.

With every round halving the number of matches, night three was a blood and sweat filled marathon to the finish.

Spider-man kicked off round three, and to no one's surprise moved onto the next. Logan followed behind him hot on his heels. Wyn was unfortunately felled at the hands of a large fisherman. He was a seasoned brawler and having seen her fight twice last night, was prepared for what he was facing. Muscle and mass won out and Wyn splattered outside the ring. She spat on the ground with a gasp, blood dripping from her matted hair.

After the fisherman was pronounced victor, he offered her a hand. Wyn took it and the crowd applauded as they both found their places back in the stands.

"That was brutal! Are the paladin goods safe?" asked Boksee concerned. She handed back her stuff. Wyn wiped the blood from her temple and reached into her bag. Like a hanky from a sleeve, she yanked out the entire underlayer of her armor, a thick arming jacket, and threw it over her head. She popped out of the holes like the happiest turtle.

"How did you even fit that in there?" exclaimed Boksee.

With another brawler meeting his end by the eliminator, round three ended. Another thirteen fighters defeated, twelve to go.

Round four.

"You know," said Nih as the veiny face of a man turned maroon between his opponent's arms. "If male men bond by fighting, this must be quite the loving group of friends."

"You know, they probably are," grinned Boksee.

There was a scream as the man escaped the hold by nailing the other guy in the sack.

Wyn just rolled her eyes.

Round four concluded with two combatants facing off in a violently equally-matched brawl. After eight agonizing minutes, one scraped out a win and went to join Spider-man, Wolverine, and three other brawlers in round five.

"Wow, the curds are really being separated from the whey," said Boksee looking around. With the exception of Spider-man and Wolverine, every combatant left was a towering, glistening, mound of heft and muscle. They flexed and cheered as the announcer called them by name. Wolverine was also a mound of muscle, he was just a hairier, shorter one. He flexed and snarled just as excited as the rest.

Wyn chuckled.

"They're curds alright."

Round five was quick. Spider-man wasted another brawler, Wolverine took out the fisherman who had bested Wyn, and the round concluded with one other Urrl-less match.

Three fighters down. Three remaining.

The walls of the stone basement wept with hot humidity. The ring was so utterly smeared with fresh and browning blood that it was hard to make out the chalk line. As the ref scrawled around to redraw it, the announcer took center stage.

"Brawlers of Newport, through this tournament, ninety-one fighters have entered this ring. The evidence is obvious," he said throwing his hands down at the circle of stains. "But all good things must come to an end. Legends have been made in this ring! But now, only three brawlers remain!"

The stands thundered.

"Who is going to win it all?" he exclaimed. "And take home forty-five hundred copper coins?" Two scanty women walked out double teaming a heavy sack. The crowd whistled and roared.

"Will it be the Butcher from Brand Street, Karter!" he said throwing a hand to the final third combatant. The girthy man postured and posed while he was applauded, his handle bar mustache glistening with sweat.

"The beast that can take down a man five times his size, The Wolverine!"

Logan threw himself around Nih's shoulder, using him to lift himself above the stands as he reveled in the brawlers' cheers.

"Mother goddess why are you so heavy!" shouted the elf dropping him.

"Or will it be our reigning usurper, the man with four arms and four legs, all of them weapons! The Spider-Man!" Peter gave a halfhearted wave as the crowd howled. Then, following the usual sequence of events, he stepped into the ring. The ref stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Now hold on there usurper," said the announcer turning to him with mischief. "You've gotten your pick of the litter all night. If you want that championship pot you're gonna have to prove you deserve it. What do you say we shake things up? This round, you fight THE ELIMINATOR!"

There were roars of excitement. Men screamed and howled in war cries.

"You could have said that before I walked out here," grumped Spider-man to the hosts.

"Where's the showmanship in that?"

He rolled his eyes and shuffled back to the sideline as Wolverine and his opponent took the ring.

One brutal beating later, the Butcher was hobbled in the floor, Wolverine had claimed another victory, and Spider-man was re-entering center stage.

Back in the stands, Wyn turned to the rest of the party.

"If Spider-man doesn't win this, wouldn't that mean you're champion by default?" she said to Wolverine. "That doesn't seem very exciting."

"I guess the ref and announcer are really betting on him winning," said Boksee.

"High risk for high reward," said Nih.

"He better not fuckin' throw this," growled Wolverine.

Spider-man and the eliminator squared up. Urrl lumbered over bringing his massive jaundice chest to Spider-man's face. The smaller man sighed and looked up to speak to him.

"I'm sorry Urrl. You seem like a chill guy, but this is probably going to hurt. A lot."

Urrl chuckled. "I'm the one who's sorry. I already got my surprise loss out of the way. You've got a killer move set but eventually mass and muscle are gonna win."

"Well, you're right about one of those things."

The two combatants took their places.

"Hey, I gotta admit though. This is my first time facing off against a weaner!" taunted the eliminator.

"Oooooo," the crowd shouted.

"What‽ I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore!"

"Don't you take that Spidey!" shouted Boksee. "Show him even if you are a weaner, you're the weaner of a dragon!"

"Dragon weaner‽" cried Peter.

"DRAGON WEANER! DRAGON WEANER!" the crowd chanted with smiles.

"He is a weaner," smirked Logan.

The bell rang.

Urrl came in swinging. Spider-man dodged back, throwing himself onto his hands and launching both feet into his opponent's chest. The eliminator stumbled but tanked the hit and kept coming.

"PRESSURE! KEEP ON THE PRESSURE!" shouted Wolverine from the stands in the chorus of pumps and hollers.

"I don't get it. Couldn't Spidey just knock him out and be done with it?" asked Boksee.

"Yah but he's a pussy," answered Logan. "He's just gonna try to move him out of the ring. Which will be hard IF YOU DON'T KEEP ON THE PRESSURE!" he shouted again.

Spider-man wasn't listening. He was dodging and tumbling and nailing Urrl with kicks and punches any opening he got. Gut, thigh, shin, shoulder, head! The massive half-ogre bled, bruised, and stumbled but was still coming at him. It was like having a fist fight with The Rhino, ok maybe not, but at least he was fighting a brick wall with fists, quick fists, but he was making progress.

"Couldn't he just pick him up and throw him?" asked Wyn. "He's strong enough."

"You can't overplay your hand like that," answered Logan.

Sweat formed on the super hero's brow as he spun overtop a tackle and rounded a foot to the giant's face. As always, when fighting anything less than the hulk, he was pulling his attacks. Apparently, he should have given that last kick a little more umph. Urrl let out a scream as foot met face, but instead of staggering, he surged forward and snagged Spider-man's opposite ankle. Peter's skull bounced off the stone floor as the giant flung him over his head and onto the ground. Spots exploded in his vision and his jaw crunched.

"Oooooh!" shouted the crowd.

Blood filled his mouth as the gargantuan fist tightened around his leg. His spider sense blared. Urrl moved to repeat the attack, to throw him over his head and into the ground over and over again like some puny god. On pure reflex, Spider-man slapped his hands to the ground and stuck. Urrl yanked him, but the small man didn't come off the ground. The eliminator, along with half the audience, did a confused double take.

"Um, what just-"

A deafening bang thundered through the stone basement.

Every brawler in the room shut their mouth and whipped toward the door. It glowed and revealed itself.

"THIS IS THE AUTHORITIES! BY ORDER OF THE CROWN LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!"

"Woah now!" exclaimed the ref blowing his whistle.

"EVACUATE!" shouted the announcer.

Urrl let Spider-man go and he leapt to his feet.

Half the brawlers ran from the stands and toward the opposite side of the room. The other half, Far Marvels included, followed after.

The ref ran to grab the parfitath.

In the confusion, Urrl charged at Peter in a last-ditch effort to ram him out of the ring. Surprised, the super hero dodged and reflexively shoved him in the back with enough force to send him stumbling over the line.

"I SAW THAT!" shouted the ref. "Urrl you're out! Get over here!"

"Seriously?" snapped Spider-man.

"Thought I'd save us some trouble."

"URRL!"

The door, exposed but still locked, cracked and pounded under the sound of a battering ram.

Urrl forced his way to the front of the brawlers and started pushing the far side of the stands from the wall. The wood groaned and creaked as it objected, but they started to move. More brawlers joined in and the stands were shoved out of the way. With a glow of his hands, the eliminator revealed another secret door.

"Let's see them find this one!" he barked triumphantly throwing it open. "GO GO GO!"

The brawlers fled into a sewer tunnel as the first secret door started to snap under the thunderous booms.

"Get inside!" shouted Spider-man to Urrl.

"Wha-"

Wolverine grabbed him and convinced him through the door.

Spider-man followed in after them. He threw a fat series of web lines over the end of the stands, and with one monstrous yank, pulled them back into place, slamming the door closed.

Urrl's mouth dropped open.

"Seal it!" shouted Logan.

"R-Right!"

He cast his spell and the door disappeared back into the wall.

"Where are we going‽" shouted Boksee as the herd of brawlers ran through the pitch black sewers.

"I don't know!" shouted Wyn.

Putrid water splashed up over their boots with a stench to match.

"Just keep your mouth shut shortbread!" shouted Matilda.

A metal gate was thrown opened and the brawlers poured out into the moonlight, spilling out of the sewer and up onto a small docked barge.

The ref blew his whistle again.

"Get this heap of junk moving!"

Ropes were cast off and sails were unfurled. The barge began to pull itself from the flood wall as the last brawlers clambered aboard.

Spider-man, Wolverine, and Urrl ran up behind them, the boat already twenty feet away. Peter chucked the two of them onto the deck before leaping himself.

Nih stood at the helm and threw his arms wide.

"By the gusts of the plains, by the winds of the storm, by the gale of the hurricane. BLOW!"

A surge of summer air hurled across him and filled the towering white sails fat against the dark sky.

The brawlers cheered as the barge took off out of the city and into the night.

"Well, that was fun," said Wolverine.

They were well out of town. Men were throwing up lanterns, lighting the tiny barge in firelight as the dark countryside drifted by.

"Look what we found!"

A pair of brawlers drug out an old barrel and pulled the bunghole. Sweaty, sewage covered boots were pulled off and held under the stream.

Peter gagged.

"UGHhhhh!"

The rest of the party looked on in disgust.

"Yah, that's a bit much, even for me," said Boksee. "What about you Wolvie? Want a foot's worth, or is sewer boot beer too rich for your blood?"

"Well, even if that weren't stomach-churningly horrible, I wouldn't want none. Gotta keep sober."

"You?" asked Spider-man with disbelief.

"What for?" asked Wyn.

Wolverine's fanged teeth shown bare as his lips spread into a wicked smile.

"We've still got one more round."

The cargo haul was pulled opened to create a great wooden pit. Brawlers scrambled and pushed to make space for themselves on what was left of the overcrowded deck.

Men from a passing barge whistled and shouted in excitement.

"Well this out to be a show," said Urrl crossing his arms by the native adventurers.

Logan and Peter were stripped down and stood to either side of the cargo hold. The announcer kicked over a beam and climbed up to balance between them.

"Brawlers of Newport! This is the fight you've all been waiting for! The final match to claim it all! IT'S THE SPIDER-MAN VS THE WOLVERINE!"

Men shouted and screamed from the shrouds and railing. The coin girls were both lifted into the air, holding the winning pot high over the riotous crowd.

"Two men go into the pit, one comes out!" proclaimed the ref. "Conscious," he added on. "Last round rules, NO FLOOR! NO RING OUTS! Knock outs ONLY!"

"What?" complained Peter.

"Sounds good to me," growled Logan. The men cheered as he plunged himself into the cargo hold.

Spider-man groaned and jumped in after.

The brawlers were screaming, their feet stomping the wooden ship above as the two combatants squared up.

"Well, we always knew it would come down to you and me," said Logan smugly.

"And yet you joined anyway," said Peter annoyed.

The mutant was wearing a feral grin.

"Now if you dare hold anything back…" he growled raising his fists.

"BLLLANNNG!"

Wolverine exploded toward him! Instead of aiming for Spider-man directly, he aimed a blitz of jabs in a wide radius in the air around his body in rapid succession.

Spider-man predictably dodged, but unfortunately for Wolverine, didn't fall for his trap, leaping backwards instead of to the side.

The mutant kept up the pressure, dancing his dodging opponent backwards with inhumanly fast strikes. Before he got him cornered to the wall, Spider-man sprung over top of him and kicked him into the same wall with a thunk.

The crowd hollered.

Wolverine whipped around.

"You can do better than that!" he snapped.

The brawlers frothed and screamed as Wolverine lunged back into the fight.

Super powered metal filled fists flew in a fury, the mutant trying to anticipate and overwhelm the mutate's spider sense.

Peter swerved, dodged, and contorted his bare body into more and more outlandish shapes, not letting a single fist touch him.

Twisted on the ground into a crab crawl, Spider-man spun his hips back into alignment, flinging a surprise kick up into Logan's chin. He screamed as he was thrown off the ground but landed on his feet. His hand flew to his jaw.

"Take it serious!" he demanded.

"I am!" exclaimed Spider-man flipping back upright.

Wolverine launched forward, throwing a wide telegraphed hook toward his face.

Spider-man fell for the feint, swerving underneath only for Logan to finally land a hit. As his first fist went wide and high, he simultaneously brought his second fist up in a tight upper cut.

Adamantium met bone as Peter screamed! He reflexively kicked Logan clear across the pit, grabbing his face and staggering. Blood poured from his already bleeding mouth. A tooth clattered to the wooden floor.

The brawlers roared.

"Not serious enough," sneered Logan.

"You almost broke my jaw!" barked Peter clutching his face with a trembling grasp.

"THEN FIGHT ME!" he barked back. Sweat flew from his temple. "LET ME HAVE IT! You've been holding back this entire match!"

"ENOUGH! This is stupid! I'm not going to actually hurt you! You haven't even done anything to piss me off lately!"

The parfitath symbol blazed threateningly on the younger man's arm.

"Ohhhhh, you need to be angry eh?" snarled Logan with malice. "Well then. How's that redhead of yours doin'? Ass still sweet as sugar and brain still soft as cheese?"

Peter's face dropped into a deathly glare.

Fists raised and heels bouncing, Wolverine started moving in.

"I flirt with her behind your back every chance I get you know," he harrowed. "I really do. I don't even remember her name but I sure remember how those perky tits of hers look in that little yellow sweater. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet Einstein. Why just…"

The last thing Wolverine registered was Spider-man's fist colliding with his skull.

Blood exploded into the air as Logan's unconscious body hurdled thirty feet across the pit and straight through the wooden wall, his legs falling limply out the hole.

Spider-man, his knuckles absolutely busted, shook the blood from his hand.

"Asshole."

He said the word at speaking volume but for some reason it sounded very loud. That's when he realized the entire barge had gone silent.

He turned to look up at the audience. Everyone, even the other members of his party, was staring at him with their mouths gaping open, many caught in Wolverine's blood splatter.

"Oops."

The symbol evaporated off his arm.

"D-did," started the announcer. "Did we just witness a murder?"

"I… don't know," said the ref.

The two hopped down into the pit.

Spider-man scoffed.

"He's fine. Believe me, people wish Wolverine was that easy to kill."

"What are you talking about‽"

On cue, the mutant jerked, then flailed back out of the hole. He landed on his feet with a rabid shout, his claws shooting through his hand binding. It took him a moment to get his wits back and realize what had happened.

"Oh for the love of…"

"Hey‽ Where'd you get weapons?" snapped the ref.

"Can't take 'em off bub," he said retracting his blades back into his bare arms. The brawlers gasped.

Unperturbed, Wolverine stuck a finger over a nostril and blew a massive glob of bloody flesh splattering to the floor. It might have been brain matter.

Spider-man was looking around for his lost tooth.

"T-this. No. No!" exclaimed the ref. "I don't know what's going on here, but there's no way any of this was legit."

Wolverine's brow furrowed.

"Looks to me like he won fair and square," he said grabbing a surprised Spider-man and shoving him in front of the hosts. "I was givin' it my all. You sayin' that don't count?"

"I don't know what in the nine hells you two are but-"

"He won!" spat Wolverine bearing his fangs. The ref startled back. "You've already pissed me off, but do you really want to piss him off? If you don't give him what he's owed, well, it ain't gonna be me who he's mad at anymore, is it?"

Logan threw his head toward the hole, the blood spray, and the flesh splattering the floor.

Both hosts' eyes went wide.

"SPIDER-MAN!" declared the announcer.

They grabbed both his hands and wrenched them into the air.

The audience wordlessly clapped.

The barge could still be seen sailing down the river as the party made their way up a rural road and back toward Newport.

"Well, we overplayed our hand and got blacklisted. What a bummer," said Logan.

"Is champion for life not enough for you?" asked Boksee. Spider-man was absolutely covered in belts and garlands like a winning horse.

"Not when he's wearing it."

Thanks to some healing by Nih, Peter had all his teeth anchored back in his face. Unfortunately, one side of his jaw was still starting to miserably swell. Of course, Logan didn't need any healing.

"Ah well, we'll just have to have the rematch on our own time," he concluded.

"Seriously?" asked Spider-man.

"You seem pretty ok with having lost so badly," said Wyn surprised.

"Listen gals, and you too elf boy, the thing you gotta understand about that jackass there is he's an idiot, but he's an overpowered idiot. Gettin' upset you lost in a fist fight with that is like bein' upset you couldn't outswim a shark. Really, you're just waiting for the day you actually pull it off so you can lord it over him for the rest of his short, insignificant life."

"I'm not overpowered. You're just C tier," said Spider-man flatly.

"C tier? Now listen here bub. You wanna talk stats."

"You know, I don't think I ever really got that," said Boksee interrupting. She was happily carrying the large coin sack of Spider-man's winning pot.

"Got what?" asked Peter.

"I don't know, how powerful you are. Wolverine I got, but you're always so… understated?"

"I haven't kept any powers from any of you."

"Yah, but it's the way you use them. I mean, you could be breaking skulls with a single punch if you wanted to."

"He could be punching through skulls if he wanted to," corrected Wolverine rubbing his forehead. "Believe me."

"But I wouldn't," bristled Spider-man.

"But you could. Are you normal for a spider man? I don't know how common your power is in your world, but here I think you made a career mistake."

"What do you mean?" he asked taken aback.

"I mean, we know you're not comfortable with some of the uglier sides of adventuring. All I'm saying is if you wind up sticking around here, you might as well hang up the tag and hop back in the ring. Don't overplay your hand and you could make a fortune," she said lightheartedly jingling the pot.

"And you'd get impaled a lot less," joked Wyn. "Maybe just find a legal combat sport next time."

The native adventurers chuckled as they continued to walk.

Spider-man stopped.

"Hey," said Boksee noticing. "Webs, what is it?" she asked turning back around.

He was staring at the ground.

"Is that what you think?" he said under his voice with venom.

"What?"

Without explanation, he turned on a heel and headed toward the woods.

"Hey!"

"Where are you going?" demanded Wyn.

"HEY!" barked Logan running up and catching him by the arm. "If you got somethin' to say just say it. Don't be an asshole!"

"Oh I'm the asshole‽" barked Peter yanking his arm away. "Look, I don't want to make a scene. How about you just let me go cool off so I don't do something we'll all regret!" he snapped.

"Or, how about you stop being a fuckin' toddler and just tell us what's the issue."

"I don't need to justify myself!"

"D-did we say something?" asked Boksee as the rest of the party was taken completely off guard.

"Yah!" snapped Peter rounding on her. "Get back in the ring?" he mocked. "Are you for real‽ Are you really that SELFISH!"

The ranger's mouth fell open. She wilted under the denouncement, her face going pale.

The paladin stepped forward.

"Calm yourself man," she demanded. "What is this about?"

"You don't know anything about me! And you're all here acting like you know what I should be doing with my life. You think I don't know what I could do?" he barked throwing a hand to his chest. "What I want to do? Well I do! But I can't. I don't get to let out the primal drive to beat the shit out of people, because if I let people have it, really have it, I would do THIS!"

He threw his fist into a tree. With a crack like a gunshot, the trunk shattered to splinters. The party startled back as the rest of the tree groaned and toppled to the ground with a thunderous crash.

Peter wasn't even moved. He stood there, teeth bared and eyes pin pricked. His entire arm was shaking from the reverberation and his knuckles bled anew.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked grabbing his shaking hand. "Or do you just think I'm useless? You send me away enough."

Wyn, Boksee, and Nih were stunned.

Wolverine flatly sauntered over.

"So," he said crossing his arms as the other man seethed. "Get the pity party out of the way?"

Spider-man whipped toward him in a fury.

"Claws!" scolded Wyn.

Wolverine continued regardless.

"As far as I can see, these three have been haulin' ass all over the country getting beaten, bled, and barbequed on some wild goose chase just to help us out. And you got the gall to stand here and throw a bitch fit at them like some ungrateful little punk."

Peter's eyes went wide.

His face dropped and he looked at his party. They were staring at him aghast.

"No, No!" he exclaimed. He grabbed his scalp. "RRRRR! This is why I was trying to leave!"

"You had thoughts and you let them out," said Wyn stiffly. "Now we can move on," she said looking sideways.

"No! You don't understand," he snarled. Then he deflated. "Look, I'm sorry. Really, guys, I wasn't being fair. Boksee, that wasn't meant for you."

She scrunched her face and gave an unconvinced nod.

"This whole thing has just dredged up horrible memories," he stammered, hand clutching in his hair. "I, I did try to do that at first. What you said. I wasn't interested in getting wrapped up in any of this. I just strutted around the wrestling ring, made bank, and kept to my own business. Maybe that's fine for some people but it wasn't for me. It took me down a bad path and I made some really bad decisions. Unforgivable decisions."

The party's faces, hard and on guard, started to lower.

"You want to know when I prestiged up into a vigilante?" he exclaimed throwing open his arms. "Well that was it. That one night, when a stupid snap decision left the man who raised me dead in a parking lot and his widow with nothing in the world but the stupid punk who let it happen!"

Peter's chest fell as the last bits of pent-up aggression left him.

"Because I didn't live up to my responsibility. And now, I have to live with that, forever."

The women stared at him with a mix of empathy and consternation. Nih and Wolverine were sullen. There were many questions left in the air, but no one touched them.

"Um so yah," stumbled Peter quickly scrubbing an eye. "Anyway… umm, that's why fight clubs don't appeal to me."

The entire party just stood there.

A breeze blew gently on the winning garlands.

With a loud jangle, Spider-man threw the coin bag on Wolverine's bed.

The males were in their inn room. Nih stopped undressing and looked over.

Logan turned to see Peter flop to his own mattress and face the wall.

He scowled.

Stepping across the room, he placed the winning pot behind the other man's back.

"I don't want it," said Spider-man shortly.

"Well that's too bad. It's yours."

Logan sighed and took a seat behind him. He undid the tie and started playing with a few coins.

"You know, ain't nothin' wrong with bein' successful. I get where you're comin' from kid but you take it too far. Makin' yourself miserable ain't gonna fix anything. What's done is done."

Peter didn't respond.

"'Sides. You already know it wasn't your fault. You just want to fester. You admitted it yourself. You couldn't have possibly known. Or does that only apply to brain dead brawlers?"

The younger man pulled in his limbs.

"Take the money and put it to good use," said Logan standing. "And for fuck's sake get some sleep and stop being such an insufferable mope. You've been cracking since Little Mons. Look, I won't go running into anymore fun if you can just keep yourself together."

The mutant flopped onto his own bed.

"At least until we can manage our way home. Then you can fester all you want for all I care. Night."

As the men settled into an uneasy silence, the elf finished pulling off his last robe and slipped beneath his blanket. Throwing a finger, the room's candle was blown out.

The End.