was out all day so I'm writing notes via mobile. Yardwork smh.
Anyways hope you enjoy
Being violently shaken out of a deep and comfortable sleep was never appreciated. In fact, had he not been so exhausted, he might've burst aloud in anger. Alas, The Arms Dealer hadn't caught a wink for the past three days, and both mind and body were so completely drained he could manage nothing more than a groan of protest as The Demolitionist frantically hissed in his ear.
"Dealer! Dealer, get up. Ya gotta help me find Amidas!"
The Arms Dealer gritted his teeth and turned his back, taking the opportunity to begrudgingly gather his bearings and glance about the dimly lit room. He was still in The Nurse's clinic, curled up in one of her sickbeds with bandages strapped about his ribs. A pale light trickled past the heavy curtains, illuminating the innumerable glass breakers which lined the shelves. The Nurse herself was snoring very softly in the bed beside him, her IV now empty. The Pink-Haired Woman was wheezing slowly from the bed against the wall.
Hah… not my idea of a night with the ladies…
The Demolitionist kicked at one of the bed's four aluminum legs, rattling the flimsy metal frame against the clinic's drywall. The Arms Dealer rubbed the grogginess from his eyes and twisted to cast a grumpy glare at the dwarf.
"Hell is going on."
"Dealer! The Sea King is gone!"
The Arms Dealer sighed and dragged himself into a sitting position, the thin sheets tangling around his legs as he leaned over and cupped his face. He sucked in a deep breath (he winced as it strained against his cracked rib) and muttered out an annoyed response.
"Dwarf… the King can take care of himself. He's not a damn child. Did you seriously wake me up for this?"
The Demolitionist was not comforted. He grabbed The Arms Dealer's shoulder and raised his voice. The Nurse snapped awake. Even the catatonic woman stirred.
"Dealer, The fukin' Sea King's got the Monster Knight's fingers! Do ya understand?! I went through the castle. The maps to the Safehouses are gone, and so is most of The Sea King's armor. We need to find him!"
The Arms Dealer stared blankly at The Demolitionist. He heard the words coming from his mouth but didn't quite process what he was saying. The fingers? Wait… Amidas decided to cut and run?
"That fucking Fish fuck stole my fucking escape plan!?"
The Nurse had no issues waking up. She jolted from a deep sleep into a screaming fury like it was the most natural thing in the world. The Arms Dealer presumed that - as the head physician in The Capitol hospital, she must be well practiced in rapidly responding to emergencies. She leapt out of her bed, landed in her stilletos, and clacked her way over to The Demolitionist to seize him by the lapels and shout in his face.
"Dwarf, you fucking bastard! Your precious Sea King just abandoned us to be killed, and you fucking helped him! We never should've trusted you!"
The Arms Dealer's instinct was to tell The Nurse to calm down, but it just so happened she wasn't being unreasonable in the least. In fact, had she not been here to dispense her wrath, The Arms Dealer might be standing in her place.
Shit… that damn Sea King
The only reason any of them had trusted The Sea King to begin with was because The Demolitionist vouched so strongly for him. This entire debaucle - although there were a great number of people to blame - could be pinned on The Demolitionist's blind worship of Amidas.
And it appeared that The Demolitionist absolutely knew it. Although The Dwarf's face was mostly obscured by a bushy red beard, the creases in his brow betrayed his guilt and worry. He dislodged himself from The Nurse and turned to look pleadingly at The Arms Dealer. His gruff voice had taken a more timid tone than usual.
"Dealer… there's time fer apologies later. Right now, we either find The Sea King and take The Fingers or kill The CC Agent and steal The Arm. We ain't got time to waste. The Crimson's comin' and so is The Monster Knight. Help me search the woods."
He was scarcely finished speaking when The Nurse interjected. She was absolutely shaking in rage, but likewise understood this was no time to vent. She crossed her arms beneath her chests. Her voice was sharp.
"No fucking way Amidas is still here. That bastard probably heard that The CC Agent was injured and tried to run before she could heal… but I know CC agents. I've operated on tons of them. The Spy, even with a bullet in her gut, is more than capable of killing a fish out of water - and I guarantee you she's been watching the main gate."
"... Shit. You think he's dead, Nurse?!"
The shadow of panic passed over The Demolitionist's face. The Nurse scoffed.
"I can't imagine he managed to escape The Compound. A giant fucking fish-man decked out in gold isn't exactly inconspicuous. Your precious Sea King has either escaped and fucked us all - or dead. Either way, it's not worth looking for him. We've gotta get The Spy."
The Nurse cast a pointed stare at the Demolitionist and The Arms Dealer in turn.
"How you bring her down is your problem, but I know that soldiers are required to protect their ranking superiors. Dwarf, you're convinced that The Guide is Draedon's lab director or some bullshit, so…"
She raised her eyebrows. The Demolitionist nodded grimly, understanding her intention and extrapolating her thought.
"The Guide's from Yharim's Experimental Division. Not sure what rank he is, but if we convince The Spy he's actually the Lab Director and we threaten his life, she'll have to come out to rescue him. Once she's in the open-"
The Demolitionist smirked and nodded at the five different firearms leaned up against The Arms Dealer's bedside. The moment the conversation turned to 'Fighting Yharim', the Dwarf's entire countenance changed, becoming almost jovial.
"We blast the bitch to bits. And I assure you, Dealer, if The Resistance hears you managed to single-handedly kill a CC Agent, they'll welcome you with open arms. Whaddya say? Aim true and I'll get you into The Resistance proper, eh?"
The Demolitionist offered him a beaming smile. The Arms Dealer responded with what was best described as a toothy grimace. Clearly the Dwarf didn't know The Arms Dealer's unsavory history with The Resistance organization.
"I'll...think about it, Demolitionist."
"Hah. Great. I'll introduce you to central command myself! Anyhow we should get moving. The day isn't getting any younger! We've got some of Yharim's scum to kill!"
The Demolitionist chuckled to himself and turned to walk out the door, making a beeline for The Guide's house where The Merchant was 'standing guard' (rather, dottering around with his cup of tea). The Dwarf's intentions were obviously malicious. He had clearly been doing something awful to The Guide earlier - judging by the blood that had been hastily washed from his hands - and was undoubtedly going to continue. One part of The Arms Dealer wanted to go defend the poor lad (granted, The Guide likely considered him an enemy at this point), but refrained. Compassion wasn't always wise, and especially not in such dire straits.
And I bet that dwarf bastard thinks he's doing god's work. We've got two zealots here… The Spy and The Demolitionist. Haah… a pity about The Guide...
The Arms Dealer let out a pained, tired sigh. In the very beginning he was also an idealist, thinking good and evil were clearly delineated. The Resistance was good. Yharim was bad. Yet his long tenure as a gunrunner caused him to see many things. It didn't matter who won a battle. When 'good' and 'evil' clashed, suffering always followed. Both good and evil made widows and orphans. Good and evil burnt cities and looted homes…
Now, he thought he'd found the most obvious good deed he could accomplish: 'help the poor prisoners escape the wicked sorcerer'.
But the prisoners were now torturing the 'sorcerer,' and the sorcerer wasn't even a sorcerer. Great.
But it was too late to go back. He was once again commiting violence under the veneer of 'goodness'. This wasn't unfamiliar to him. He'd done this for ten years. The Arms Dealer took a breath and stood to his feet, snagging his shotgun and slinging it over his back in one motion. Under his breath, he muttered:
"... Right. Let's kill those 'evil' scum."
"... A strange message?"
The nighttime wind whipped a deep, booming voice into a barely audiable whine. The reply came just as tinny.
"Yes sir, Lord Braelor. The message was received early this afternoon from Safehouse 1530 on the southeastern isthmus, right on the Crimson Border."
When the armoured knight approched the attendant and held out his hand to receive the transmitted memo, the poor man startled. Evidently this resistance member hadn't seen Braelor up close until now. When The Resistance commander was addressing his troops, or seen from afar - he looked to have the stature of any normal man - but face to face, it was clear he had titan's blood running in his veins. The Parchment looked like a handkerchief in Braelor's palm and he squinted at it through his visor slats.
From waist-height, the attendant bundled up tighter and did his best to shout his message over the noise of the elements.
"Sir, The sender knew how to code this message with the highest urgency - but the pattern we needed to decrypt the message was… Very outdated. In fact, It was the very first encryption key we had in files. Additionally it was broadcast with an unrecognized signature. Comms control is afraid of a possible security breach, which is why we've brought this to you, sir."
The Knight blinked, frowned beneath his faceplate, and brought the de-scrambled memo close to read the tiny print. Had he been in his study, he would've donned his reading spectacles for such a task. Alas - this message had caught him on the way back from a small skirmish, and he was outfitted for slaughter - not bookwork.
*##(URGENT)_REQUEST FOR IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION. HOSTILE POINT 1530. SKAMIDAS. 13:47##*
He nearly balked as he recognized the signature. 'SKAMIDAS'? Sea King Amidas?! But the Sea King was long dead. Nobody had seen him in decades...
Could it be true? Even for Amidas, with his strange physiology, such a thing was impossible… people disappeared for five or ten years. Not fifty.
That wily seadragon was as ruthless as he was old, and was always bursting with clever and convoluted schemes. It was thanks to him that The first Resistance uprising was such a force to be reckoned with when the three of them had formed a secret coalition in opposition to Yharim's meteoric rise to power. At that time, the Resistance was a real threat to the king, but the entire operation fell apart spectacularly the moment The Sea King was 'killed'. Perhaps Yharim had discovered The Sea King's involvement with them, or perhaps he was simply seeking a new power - but after Amidas refused to teach Yharim the spells of the cosmic deities, The Tyrant's newest recruit at the time- The Witch of Massacre (or most commonly, 'The Brimstone Bitch') boiled Amidas and his sea into a bleached desert.
… And that was fifty years ago. Amidas must be dead. Was it possible for a sea creature to survive for half a century beneath a dried up ocean? Even if he had - surely he would've gone mad… Still…
Braelor grimaced and looked down to read the message once more, not minding the bitter cold that had sunk its way into his armor and began to bite at his toes. This certainly looked authentic, but it could just as easily be a trap. Yharim knew the Resistance had been lacking ever since Amidas was 'killed'. He and Statis had relied heavily on the Sea King's shrewd advice during their prior battles - and his loss was a terrible blow to them. Could Yharim be attenptng to lure them out? Perhaps he was attempting to discover the location of their headquarters.
"Sir? Is everything alright? Should I tell Comms to re-scramble the encryption?"
The attendant was shivering in his boots and peering at him, clearly eager to get an answer and hurry back indoors. Braelor sighed and thought carefully. After a moment he returned the sheet to the attendant and dismissed him.
"Yes, have the Communications room use a fresh encryption. Also, send a memo to Statis to prep a stealth team for an extraction mission."
"Yes sir."
"...And also notify The Cultist that 'The Sea King' may be joining us. He'll be interested - and The Hero could use a break from magic lessons."
Heeeroooo
Slayer is taking his sweet time lmao.