Hello, PROGRESS yee.
Only one section today, sorry frens.
The Merchant was quite annoyed with his predicament.
Hadn't he been the one to lead their little offensive against the Monster Knight? He was supposed to be their leader, but the moment his brilliant plan had failed (not at all his fault, of course. The bomb was too weak; The Dealer's aim was off) The Demolitionist and his giant talking dragon had snatched from him the reins of power. Now, he was regulated to playing doorman, sitting around and guarding The Guide … yet although the whole situation made his blood boil, he was careful not to make any complaint. He would carefully watch. He would bide his time.
(Gah! Let me go, you bast-)
*Smack*
(Shut the hell up, you Yharim scum, yer lucky I haven't offed ya yet! Get up!)
The Merchant winced and walked ahead of The Demolitionist, doing his best to avert his eyes from The thoroughly beaten Guide. He sighed as he heard the noises of muffled struggle behind him and raised his eyes to the cloudy, unchanging sky.
This place… it's cursed. I must escape at all costs.
The current situation was dire. Although their little faction was currently in control over this compound, they were hemmed in with all sorts of dangers. The Crimson was slowly crawling towards them, promising a choking stench and an onslaught of monsters. Yharim's Spy - the dangerous fighter who was supposedly lurking these woods, was seeking to exterminate The Resistance members in the compound.
… They don't even know where she is. What if she's already left?
And finally, The Monster Knight - who could be days away, or right on their doorstep. Nobody knew whether they had ten minutes or ten weeks before it returned. Neither did they know how to defend against such a fearsome foe. Not all of them had seen it fight, but they certainly knew how sturdy it was. The Monster Knight had survived an explosion large enough to kill an entire platoon of men, and that was a sneak attack. It didn't take much to imagine how hopeless a head-on confrontation with it would be. Each one of them likewise knew exactly what was going to happen when it finally did step through those gates to confront them.
And that idiot Demolitionist decides torturing The Guide is a good idea… if The Monster Knight comes back, he'd best just slit his own throat.
If not for these very present threats, The Merchant would have already broken away from this pack of violence loving numbskulls. They were given so many chances to make this work! If The Arms Dealer just hadn't missed his target in that critical moment, they could all be free - The Slayer dead. If The Demolitionist had more than two brain cells to rub together, he wouldn't have given away the key to everyone's escape to some slimy sea-creature. Now, these two halfwits had thought up another plan, but The Merchant had lost faith in them completely. Surely they'd be the death of him.
(*Coughing*)
(Alright, Guide. Yer gonna call yer buddies fer me?)
So how was he to manage these two men? Men of war who solved everything with a beating? Well, he couldn't stand up to them lest he find himself looking like The Guide. Neither did he have the authority he once had, The bomb's failure was pinned on him. The only way was to abandon these two, to simply leave them to their own devices. Watch as they milled about, indulging in violent plans and meeting violent ends. The Merchant didn't need to be loyal to The Demolitionist's idiot plan. He didn't have to die with the rest of these Meatheads. The objective was survival, and survival was inherently selfish. The Sea King knew this, and he acted out of his wisdom.
Why shouldn't I follow his example?
Yet despite the distance he wished to put between them, The Merchant made an effort to appear enthusiastic upon hearing The Demolitionist's hostage plan. This little charade was supposedly going to lure Yharim's Spy - who was in possession of the key to escape this prison - into the range of The Arms Dealer's gunfire. Frankly, it was a desperate plan; an obvious trap with little chance of success. In fact, it was possible The Spy was already long gone, and this entire exercise was fruitless...
(*Violent coughing*)
However if it did succeed, The Merchant definitely wanted to benefit. So while The Arms Dealer and The Nurse hurried to the second floor of Amidas' castle to set up a gun turret, The Merchant and The Demolitionist broke into The Guide's home and blasted against his barricades until they found their 'bait'. Yet even as he essentially facilitated a kidnapping, The Merchant's mind was churning with schemes.
I'm not a resistance fighter… so if Yharim's spy wins I can easily pretend to be another civilian who was forced to work for these 'Resistance Scum'. If I try and escape, it will be even more convincing…
His thoughts were disturbed as The Guide was dragged from his sloppily barricaded home. It was a noisy affair. These young men had quite a bit of stamina. Despite his ragged condition, The Guide had put up quite a vigorous struggle. Cursing and hollering, he threw half the furniture in his bedroom at them before The Demolitionist wrestled him down, dislocated his elbow and kicked him in the gut until his shouting became hissed whimpers.
("Go on. You called the CC agent here, didn'tcha? I know ya did... Call her out now, ya fuck!")
*thud*
("...haak!")
The Old Merchant stepped aside as The Demolitionist threw The Guide to sprawl on the graveled path. He was truly a sorry sight, peppered in nasty bruises and sporting a picture-perfect black eye. His hands had been carefully bandaged (thankfully, The Old Merchant didn't want to see the results of The Dwarf's handiwork) but the bindings were coming undone with the roughhousing. When The Guide raised his head, the stones had cut red marks into his cheeks - yet his face wasn't one of a defeated foe. Rather, The Guide glared at them from beneath deeply shadowed bangs, his eyes burning with rage and just the faintest sparkle of madness.
"I said call her out! Didja hear me?!"
The Demolitionist was beginning to grow flustered. Spittle peppered his bushy red beard and his face was contorted like a demon's. He seized The Guide by the collar of his shirt and whipped out a pistol from his waistband. He pressed the barrel of the gun against The Guide's forehead but got nothing in return besides for that wrathful, wide-eyed stare and a snarled curse.
"Fuck you!"
"Hah! Well fuck you too!"
With a sharp blow to the skull, The Guide was forced back down to his knees in the middle of the unkempt lawn. The pistol pressed against the side of his head where a thin trickle of blood seeped out, staining his ears red. He hunched over and hissed in pain as he clutched his injured elbow. He'd been holding it tightly as he weathered the dwarf's abuse, oftentimes not even shielding his head for the sake of his arm. The Merchant hadn't thought much of it at first, but upon a closer inspection he could faintly make out the outline of something strange through his sleeve. The Demolitionist hadn't noticed it, he was too busy yelling at the trees.
"Alright ya damn Spy! I've got the Lab Director here! Draedon's lab director for this damn base! If ya don't want yer shitty king to execute you - you better get yer sorry ass down here!"
Silence... Of course there was no response. This was the most obvious trap in history. If this spy had any competence whatsoever, she would remain hidden (granted she was here, of course - and The Merchant dearly prayed she was. He was sure he could reason with The Spy. The Monster Knight would kill him without a second thought).
The Demolitionist continued to hollar.
"I'll kill him! I really will, ya bitch! Ya know you're supposed to protect your superiors, right? Ya gonna disappoint yer precious wee tyrant bastard?!"
The tall black poplars stood silent and menacing. They seemed to be watching their every move with a blind, unsearchable malevolence. It was daytime, yet the dark clouds above and the persistent mists that shrouded the entire compound lent to the poor visibility. Each of them searched the treeline with bated breath.
*Shff-*
A branch rustled once. Immediately, from his position atop Amidas's castle, The Arms Dealer whipped around, took aim and squeezed off three shots.
*BANG-BANG-BANG*
…
There was a tinkling noise as some of the shotgun pellets bounced off some of the glass-faced lights that lined The Compound's high wall. The wasn't for lack of firepower, for the treeline behind suffered greatly. Birches lost arms. Saplings were snapped at the base.
...
More silence. All eyes, except The Guide's, were pinned on the treeline, carefully watching for movement. Strangely, The Guide was clutching his arm and watching the floor instead. He paid no attention to the pistol held against his head. Instead, his lips moved very slightly. Was he praying?
The Demolitionist continued to grandstand.
"Are all of Yharim's men yellow-bellied cowards like you?! Fitting for that pathetic dog dressed in gold armour! Yer king is a disgusting, burnt piece of jerky, posing as a man! I betcha his mothe-"
*Shhff-*
*BANG-BANG….(ka-chack)... BANG-BANG*
Four shots this time, slightly to the right. Four shotgun shells burrowed their way into the silent forest, snapping twigs and blowing branches off their boughs. If The Spy was anywhere near that vicinity, she would most certainly be hit by at least one of the pellets… yet there was no cry of distress, nor the sound of a body hitting the ground.
Silence once again.
The stagnant air pressed upon them. The Merchant was beginning to sweat. Something wasn't right here. The Spy was waiting for something - he was sure of it - but he couldn't figure out exactly what. He took several steps back to stand in the shadow cast by The Guide's house. As he (and admittingly the rest of the compound) peered intensely at the treeline, he didn't notice that The Guide had finally released his death grip on his own arm, and carefully slid something sharp from beneath his sleeve.
"Stop hiding ya coward fuck!"
The Demolitionist didn't seem to think anything was amiss. He was excitedly glancing between The Arms Dealer and the spot he thought The Spy must be hiding. The Arms Dealer was likewise on high alert. They all strained their ears and searched for movement. They needn't wait long.
*Snap-*
*BANG-BANG-BANG…(ka-*
Another disturbance. Another flurry of bullets, yet this time, a gurgling shout rang out. The Merchant's first thought was 'The Arms Dealer had finally hit The Spy'. How lucky! It was a good thing he had stayed friendly with this faction or else he might not be welcomed to escape with them. He turned to grin triumphantly at The Demolitionist, but stopped short - a cry of shock escaping his own throat.
"Gah! Y-you!"
*shunk*
The Dwarf staggered, his stance shaky and unstable. He looked just as surprised as The Merchant felt, and stared at himself in utter astonishment.
Oh no…
For there was a small knife buried hilt deep in The Demolitionist's pistol arm. It had plunged into his bicep and caused him to drop his gun to the ground. Yet such a small blade thrown from such a great distance could only do so much harm. That was merely a flesh wound, and dwarves were built of hardier stuff than humans were.
No, the cause for concern was, rather, what appeared to be a large, sharpened chisel plunged into The Demolitionist's gut. The Guide was no longer kneeling beside him, but rather - the very moment The Arms Dealer was reloading - had turned to attack his captor. With a fury uncharacteristic of the fairly gentle man, The Guide yanked out the chisel and let dwarvish blood spill to the ground.
"Guide! You bastard!"
The Arms Dealer shouted down at them as he hastily reloaded his rifle. It was then when the Merchant realized what The Spy was waiting for. She would use the brief period of time where The Arms Dealer couldn't target her to incapacitate The Demolitionist. What The Merchant had mistaken as a prayer was actually The Guide counting shots to himself. Was… was The Guide in on the plan? Or had he simply gotten lucky?
Is… is he really's Yharim's agent?!
(ka-chack)
The Guide's eyes were wild. His teeth clenched in fury, yet logical as always, he didn't take the time to continue attacking or relish his victory. As if counting seconds, he snatched the pistol from the floor and fled back to his home, slamming the door shut just as the shotgun pellets peppered the wood. Had the houses been built of anything less than magically strong material, The Guide would've been killed, but The Arms Dealer's bullets didn't even scratch the hardwood.
"Shit! Shit, Merchant! Grab him and get to The Clinic! Hurry!"
"Goddamnit, fuck! That fucking Guide!"
The Arms Dealer and The Nurse shouted at him from the tower in Amidas' abandoned castle. Their eyes were wide in panic, and they wildly pointed from him to the dwarf who lay groaning and gasping in the grass. From this, it was very clear who was the most powerful in this compound. The Resistance were all going to end up like their leader, laying in the grass, choking on their own blood. The Merchant wanted no part in that.
Huh… I suppose it's time…
So without even a backwards glance and barely a twinge of guilt to stain his conscience, The Merchant turned his back on his allies and mimicked The Guide. Feigning Terror, he turned on his heel and fled for his home.
*Demo, dying*
Merch: Oh no.
Merch: Anyways.
Notes: 1) K so I don't really know how guns work, but I'm pretty sure semi-automatic shotguns have more than 5 bullets per cartridge. Pretty sure it's like 20-30 but whatever. I really didn't want to write 'BANG' 40 times so yah, roll with it. 2) You can't break T's stuff - but you can blow it up. Rip all my beautiful builds I accidentally tossed bombs into... also The Patio is literally a crater rn. You know T is going to painstakingly rebuild it. 3) Guess who gonna die next lmao.
Thanks for your comments and reviews everyone. It's nice when people drop a 'hi'.
Also I have an insatible hunger for skits