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“And so, minutes later, now we are here. I think you got the rest,” DeVita finished. He of course omitted the second time they were given that offer, which he accidentally mistook for a threat and ended up nearly killing themselves on the spot.
“Woooow,” the bird squawked sarcastically. “You two are pretty much losers, huh?”
“Excuse me, Mister Fatass how about you..!” the bird turned his head away before he could finish. DeVita hissed, but frustration made him leave the topic. As his eyes glazed over the corridor, noticing each ornate emblem on the wall, something up and popped in his mind. It was innocuous, and yet noticeable. “Is it me, or does the castle looks different inside and outside?”
The bird raised his head slightly, watching from the corner of his eye.
DeVita continued, “I mean, if you got goin’ to spend, why not spend it on, I dunno, making it all uniform? Huh? Why make it so confused, so double-faced?”
“That’s because the outside was a recent addition.”
“…Oh?” DeVita asked inquisitively.
“Yeah, it wasn’t like that, before.”
DeVita’s scaly eyebrow was raised and he stroke his flat chin. This was definitely an interesting find. Of course, whether it means anything is up in the air, but it was still a find.
“So, what are you go to do now?” The bird prodded him out of his train of thoughts. “Figure out how to get out of this place?”
“Get out…of this?” DeVita chuckled, tapping the rusty bars with his fingers. “These dinkie spoons we’ll destroy in seconds, ain’t that right, Schwartz?”
Schwartz’s nose was entering a bucket found in a corner.
“That’s pee, don’t drink it.”
“Aww, but’ I’m thirsdy.”
DeVita sighed and began itching his cheek. He lamented the situation, a lot, and unless he could come up with a good escape plan, they might deal with an insane man who holds power. And true to his experience, they all are awful to be around with. He took his knife out again to suck on it.
“And what will you do after that?” the birdman asked.
As DeVita felt his stress lower away, he turned to birdman.
“We’ll rob the whatever the immortal thing he has and get the rewards. I mean, that’s what we set out to do. Say, have you seen-”
“I see,” the bird cut him off and went back to sleep.
Before DeVita could kindly ask “The hell!?” to him, the loud sound of snoring and whistling started emanating from that neighbouring cell. DeVita was now left to his thoughts.
…
It was the dead of night at the Devil’s Bowl. Nothing alive would go out, mainly because it was form of unspoken agreement that all must sleep during that time. Because if you aren’t, you’re either a monster or looking to die. Mercenaries tended to be the ones to break that rule readily, and those who continued working are the ones who survived. Pretty straightforward, it is.
The terrain is among many of the reasons why the Devil’s Bowl is so unpassable. It is sandy, so of course it is coarse, brittle, and gets in everywhere, among other things. It was almost impossible to traverse it, without using specially tamed animals that had to be bought from secular tribes, as well as scheduling trips to certain points of the year. As such, most of the land behind Garbage Area was never explored fully.
That is until several years ago, a brilliant inventor created a special type of engine from metallic alloy, one never seen before. This helped with creating some of the most sophisticated and well-kept vehicles that could cross through the dessert plains with ease. The inventor became famous, enough to be hired by the nobles themselves. And while vehicles were something he helped with creating, so were other, unusual type of technology that has become the defining feature within the richer elite. However, one day, that inventor disappeared, and with him many of his blueprints for even more fantastical technologies disappeared. Where they are now, is sadly still a mystery.
“Try to keep up!”
The Art-Onyx glided off the top of the dune with his hoverboard. A large, wheel-less device that he could flip around like it is made of carboard and never have to worry it being jammed by sand. Behind him, the rest of the members of his gang followed on their own modes of transportation. Dart was beautifully precise with her roller skating, doing a triple spin jump on her way down. Ramus just burst through the dune clunkily yet holding on tight to his dessert bike, whose fat tires trampled the ground indiscriminately. Pot was last, the weasel drawing circumference around what’s left of the sandy hill on his unicycle, his mouth chewing on a device. He didn’t seem to be eager to join the gang yet, which no one minded. Onyx himself figured that he was just having fun.
“Alright, then!” Onyx announced, as he jumped off of the board, “I think I see the town now!” He stomped one of its ends to turn it off and flip it into his hands. He crouched down, until he was right at the edge of the hill, where he could get a clear view of city. Dart stood next to him on the right, while Ramus took perch on his left shoulder.
It all was happening at night, at the moment, though the way the city shined probably didn’t make much of a different. Thanks to a bunch of campfires scattered by the bandits done to celebrate their depravity and the giant golden machine near the main castle, that place just begged to be found by a vagabond. Hedonism was a celebrated element of banditry, such things as partying at night was a usual occurrence. Particularly, if the place in question was considered their haven, which likely meant they either did not care that someone might sneak in. Mostly because they were probably armed to the teeth with weapons that discourage anyone from giving their place a second glance.
Onyx began to rummage through his backpack, getting out a pair of binoculars.
“Mehhh,” Ramus grunted, patting sand off of his pants. “Was there exactly a reason why you had those two get captured?”
“Yeah, yeah there were,” Onyx said, watching the town from afar. “Can you get the map?”
Ramus shook his head, but reached into his backpack regardless. After a minute, he pulled a folded sheet of paper, whose size was enough to act as a picnic blanket when laid down. He neatly placed it right next to the hawk, who, after finally noticing it, crinkled the whole thing up just to take a look at one part of the paper.
“Alright then,” Ramus said, sighing. “By the way, can I mention how I loathe your tendency towards risky stunts?”
“Let’s take a look at this baby…” said Onyx, ignoring him. The map had very detailed information for the whole city, and not simply just outside roads. Each building was given a thorough interior blueprint, with Onyx particularly paying attention to the inners of the main castle. He pointed with his finger to the passage next to the prison hall. “If I am guessing correctly, that’s where they are storing our treasure. Which includes, the two stars of our show.”
“They are probably armed with those…things,” noted Ramus. Onyx nodded in agreement.
“Therefore, everything must be done with purpose. Get in, get them out, get yourself in, then get yourself out. Got it, Dart?”
The masked member of their group did not reply verbally, only giving a thumbs up from behind.
“But how do we know they aren’t dead?” Ramus interjected. “You do know, they are just as likely to be dead? They probably killed themselves dealing with a maniac?”
“Nah.” Onyx folded the map back and handed it to Dart. “I followed them quite a bit. They just don’t seem to want to die!” He laughed. “Kinda great isn’t it? Besides, that ‘maniac’ has something more to him than meets the eye.”
Ramus’s brow was raised at the smile Onyx gave to him, but both stopped at the sound of something being dug. All three looked at Pot, whose upper body was now deep inside the sandy dune. None of them dared to ask what he was doing.
Ramus continued,
“It’s still a risky plan.”
“Look, relax,” Onyx brushed him off, while unpacking his own bag. He pulled out a golden sheet and with it, his midnight snack, made up of protein bar and energy drink. Everything was sold in vending machines only found at their guild: “convenience made EXEMPLARY!”
“And what happens if we are found out? Or worse, we’ll have to fight them ourselves?” Ramus kept badgering their leader, but the latter just took a bite from his granola bar, before putting it down on the sheet.
“You’re overthinking again. I told you, those two will do everything for us.”
Before Ramus could add one last point in, and wave of sand fell on them from the side. The trio met the sight of Pot, with his arm outstretched holding and wiggling a piece of cloth.
“Heeeeeey, duuuuuuuudes! Cheeeck this out,” Pot reached for the cloth and lifted one part of it to show a rat-like face underneath. It hissed when each of them took a look at him. “I think weee got a snake heeeere.”
Onyx stood up to and got closer to the rat. He noticed that it had slit-eyes and tail of a lizard as well. It was a “snake”, and more than likely, a spy for the bandits.
“Excellent, man! Dart was right, someone WAS tailing us!” Onyx elbowed Ramus.
“To be fair, it would be worrisome if she didn’t manage to spot him.”
Pot brought it over to the others, allowing a closer look to the shaking little creature.
“Alright, I think we’re more than ready.” Onyx shown hand signal to Dart, who nodded in response. He moved to Ram, who, unenthusiastically, reached into his backpack and pulled a yarn ball. “Let’s get things going,” the hawk said, and gave the last gift to Dart.
One thing that can be said about bandits, was that they tended to be a jubilant lot. You didn’t follow any rules, you didn’t care for any future, all you had was the present. It was a life of constant danger, impossible odds and wild celebrations. Unlike scavengers, being a bandit meant complete freedom. Of course, they still allow for some type of intermingling activities, like for example, building a quick shop to sell their wares, or make a campfire for celebrations. Sometimes they do both in one, and generally walk away with few dead bodies, which is why sellers tend to disappear just as quickly as they appear.
Dart counted the eighth time she heard someone shoot, and seventh time someone say, “Aww shit, he’s dead.” They missed once, by the way. They were at least five different campfires standing in the way of Dart and the main castle. And while no one was sober enough to be a threat on their own, even being seen once could spell trouble. Bandits tended to make a lot of noise, even if they were to die. There were also little to no lookouts between them. Then again, even when sober, bandits rarely try to be look-outs. Reasons varied: too expensive, bandits are already vigilant making it pointless, or you simply could not trust another bandit with looking after loot. If you would kill for a loot, why wouldn’t someone else? Anyways, that job was always passed to paid “snakes,” whom they caught earlier.
Dart planned out her route through the town, her memory of the map clear. The town was made of mostly buildings, and would condense the closer it was to the castle. All the while, the bandits ran about without care in the world. And so, to get there required elegance. And Dart knew that the key to her successes was always the elegance. To roll through the streets, doing as minimal noise and movement that was possible. A push forward, a dash to the side, a turn that leads to a spin, slide into one’s shadow, slip below two locked arms of drunkards, hop above a corpse on the street, sneak right behind a barrel…Then suddenly, there appeared a conga line. One of those music boxes played on top of the building, which buzzed and crackled like a person who smoked three times a day, and the melody could only be faintly heard. And yet they ignored it, by cracking the volume on high and singing the tune themselves. It worked for them well enough.
Dart scanned the area again. Drunk people were easy to evade, but there was always a possibility of someone not that drunk nearby. And of course, she came across a few, with one in particular sitting atop a tall barrel. Dart pressed a button behind her helmet, removing her visor. Something in that barrel stood out to her. Though she would prefer not to use it lightly, this gave her an idea.
The man, after giving one last hurrah into the air, took swig of alcohol that was in his jug. And then, as if timed, everything below him exploded. Wood splinters and metallic bits flew into the air, followed by endless amount of golden coins, covering the whole ground.
“What the hell!?” the man shouted, only to be drowned by the sudden assault of greedy colleagues.
“FREE TREASURE!!!” they yelled, despite the man’s plea, who claimed that the treasure was his. This was as pointless as pleading a hungry shark to not eat them, even though they just slathered themselves with BBQ sauce.
Dart passed them as quickly as lightning, unseen by the bandits. In due time, she reached the bottom of the castle’s stairs. Surely enough, it was defended by guards from the front. Dart swiftly moved her body from one object to the next, making sure that the guards couldn’t see her. Those two were bandits as well, but armed with long-range weaponry. These two either did not like to party, or just couldn’t get drunk, she figured, as their reason why they were still in their posts.
She kept moving, giving a good look at the outside of the castle. As Ramus claimed, they were built to be impenetrable, but also easily escapable. She searched for the secret openings, which included a secret hatch around the back of the castle. She continued to bob and weave between different shadows made by the objects around her, exactly as to how she practiced beforehand.
Though as she moved, she noticed few oddities of the place. Commonly, a wall would surround the building, dividing itself from the rest of the town. It was a common courtesy to show oneself as more important enough to be defended when you were a noble. However, it seems to have been taken down, and very cleanly too. She saw the foundation remains circling the building, with not even one pebble around it. Another oddity was the building’s top. The color was very white, which in comparison to bright red coloring of the building, brighter than the darkness of the night, gave a play of two opposing, if complementary colors. That said, it had now sported a giant golden hat on it, which did not add to the color scheme of the place. Its emblems, also, were one and the same, but if silvery steel color was used for the ones scattered below at few chosen places, a huge golden one that stuck like a star ornament at its crown was probably too extravagant. This piqued Dart’s interest like no other.
She calmed down, though, once she reached the golden dome machinery. Alongside it, she noticed two very peculiar figures, one of whom she recognized immediately. Carefully, she hid herself behind a house, several feet away the two. By the bottom of the machine, the noble was digging through one of the barrels, under the snakey-eye of his right-hand bandit.
“More gold…more guns…more thiggamajigs…more…more…” was being chanted by Darrold. The noble was seemingly in a trance, same one seen when a thirsty man starts shoveling the sand away to find a water-passage. These people can be quite scary.
Dart adjusted the knob at the side of her visor, magnifying until she could see more of the barrel. To her surprise, and interest, the barrel contained none of the objects he listed. But there was a large amount of gravel and sand. Enough that his usually primly white gloves turned light shade of beige, which he could’ve easily noticed thanks to the shine that came everywhere. And also, if he wasn’t being manic.
“I just need more,” was Darrold’s repeated phrase. He gave a chuckle, gathering the sand and rocks between his two palms, and then let it trickle while raising it all into the air. “And after that, we can take over the house of Gluttoria. I can be the king. No more of hateful stares or jeering…just me, at my rightful place. Can you imagine? Thrown away, only to become the ruler of a noble house! Oh…oh…more…”
The Snake-Eyed coughed a bit. Both of his eyes were constantly shifting to somewhere else, not particularly interested in the conversation.
“Tell me, Snake-Eyed,” Darrold said, carrying a clump of said sand and rock. “Tell me…how much more do we need?”
Snake-Eyed peeked at the clump, before taking a whiff of the air. “Boss, if I may be permitted, there’s way more to the invasion than just a bunch of people gathered to-“
“Do you, or do you NOT want to take them down?” The noble was gritting through his teeth. “Do you NOT want to make them pay, for abusing you? For killing your friends?”
Snake-Eyed coughed, opting to simply leave it unanswered. A professional way to keep yourself from saying something wrong.
“Do you want treasure…or not?” Darrold whispered this last line.
Snake-Eyed looked up in the air, and after finally sighing it out, blurted it out as, “Boss, what’s it to ya, really? I am just saying, that, maybe, before anything, you should focus on building your own empire? You got the resources, Boss, you got an army… made of thousands of idiots. They are not loyal, sure, but they are easily bought, and the rest can be given some crystals to sniff. Why not just do that? Why not-”
“Because, I WANT TO!!!”
Snake-Eyed pursed his mouth shut. It was always difficult to deal with an employer who’ll snap if you try to reason with them, who doesn’t want to listen to anything but their voice being echoed back. He probably considered leaving it after tonight, and let it all blow up. A smart bandit would do that.
“Look at me,” Darrold said, vying for bandit’s attention as he reached into his breast pocket. From it he pulled a small spoon, whose silvery head was worn on a golden, intricately designed handle. On the back of it was vividly inscribed “Darrold” ending with an attached picture of a young boy. “This…this small thing, is the sign of my destiny! The truth behind my own past! Searching through Gluttoria’s treasury, I found this small, insignificant little thing, and then I knew the truth. And the truth is that I was never some lowlife street urchin. I…am a destined member of a noble house! I do not deserve to be thrown out, spat at on some random corner littered with piss by some dirty, unwashed thugs. I…should be worshipped! Loved by all! Have all of my whims cared! I’ve waited for this chance for far too long, and once those self-important morons come over to visit this town, I will not lose the chance to make them pay!”
Snake-Eyed sighed, “Sir, they are not coming here themselves, they are sending some…” The bandit took a closer look at the spoon. “Sir, this spoon, are you sure it’s not fa-“
‘No more!” the golden-maned man roared. “Now go do what you’re supposed to do!”
The noble pushed the bandit away and headed straight to his machine. Snake-Eyed grabbed the paper left on top of the barrel, shaking his head this whole entire time. A bandit doesn’t question orders, if it pays well.
Dart watched him closely for the next few seconds. Snake-Eyed walked around the machine, keeping precisely five feet away from its circumference, swinging himself towards one of four small houses. They neatly lied in a row behind the castle, each wearing a color of uniform dirty brown. They looked unsuspicious to a common eye, as if were for common servants who live by eating scraps and all the other garbage that nobles would graciously throw behind their backs. And yet, something about them flared Dart’s curiosity. She knew exactly what they were, something far more to what she was looking for.
She dashed her next to fifteen shadows, then after finally getting that smallest distance that she could, headed straight to the machine. It’s huge, shining body would’ve revealed her position immediately, even with that barrel which Darold rummaged through hiding her lithe figure. She didn’t want to waste time, so her focus lied squarely on the bandit. He was reaching the third house, which she quickly discerned to be very different compared to others. Unlike the rest of the set, its door was not facing the castle, but instead away, which Snake-Eyed showed once he started to knock on it. It was seven times, she counted. After waiting a moment, he knocked seven more times at that door. Afterwards, he moved away from the door, and looked through the window. A single one that it had. It was quite small one, too, which Dart categorized noted after positioning behind the second of the four houses. She was now behind Snake-Eyed’s back, who was too busy with shouting and banging the glass. The other houses, also, had two windows instead of one. Their bodies were additionally very square in appearance, whereas that one was more oblong in comparison.
It appeared to have finally worked for the Snake-Eyed, once he left the window and return to stand in front of the door. The entrance was opened by a man with the most luxurious and thickest set of eyebrows that would make an owl blush. But, being on a sphinx cat, it just added to his drunken looking appearance.
Snake-Eyed shoved the paper to latter’s hands and said, “Take it to him. Say should be done by tomorrow. Quickly. And stop drinking.”
The cat’s eyebrows showed glorious amount of dispassion over the words being said to him.
“Ye pry it from me knocked out-cold hands after I dun drinkin’! ‘Mister No Fun’ my ASSHOLE!” The cat took another swig. “Why always from hear? Why not make another door, in front...”
“Because he is going to get rid of that door later. That’s what he said. He also, thinks, we should get rid of all the other houses and use them to make the main castle taller.” The Snake-Eyed scowled at himself after saying that. Someone as prideful as him just couldn’t swallow having to say something so idiotic. But, thus was the work of those who follow “A client’s word is the law” creed.
The cat sighed through a hiccup, which made him forget what he was going say next. Clearing his throat, he decided to let it be and went back-in to his house. The Snake-Eyed turned to leave, following the direction opposite of the main building. The moonlight was shining rather beautifully tonight, enough to enrapture his reptilian eye. Something whooshed past the back of his head, which made him pause for a bit. He resumed his walk not long after, following the way of the moonlight, and beyond, until he left the city completely.
It was a good thing that bandits also followed another creed, “Never follow the law.”
…
“I can’th feel muh fashe,” Schwartz moaned through the dirt of the sand of the cell. He was lying down, with his nose pointing to the ground.
“Ah quit complaining! We gonna think a way outta here!” retorted DeVita, his nose on the ground too.
The bird-man peeked at them. “You two appear to be stuck,” he noted.
“No shit!” DeVita sprung from the ground and immediately went back to his frantic pacing.
It was about time that he needed to accept that he didn’t have an escape plan. And if he were to get out, it would be down to luck, the most horrible of all variables. Mainly, because he never believed in his own. For example, they got caught, couldn’t talk out of being imprisoned, and had no clue about the layout, how many guards there were, nor their positioning. The only thing he knew were the guns, and he knew them really, really well. They say these things turn a person into a meat mush with just one shot, in the most literal manner possible. Oh why, oh why did he had to spend money on knife sharpening workshop, instead of escape room one? They didn’t even offer good blades! And wouldn’t refund on top of that!!!
“Gotta keep my head straight,” DeVita rambled, “C’mon, think, how many times we turned? There was an elevator, and then a click, and then…Gah!” DeVita scratched his scales violently. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time he got captured in some sort of impossible maze before. But those guns…they seemingly are jamming any sense of reason he was left with. It just wasn’t right.
“I want to drink,” pleaded Schwartz from below.
“Not now buddy,” DeVita said and went back to more pacing. He needed to clear his head. They couldn’t make a wrong move anymore. He needed to calm down and focus. Everything will kill them as soon as they leave the door. It was all about proper procedures. Their life depended on making careful decisions. No more distractions.
Then Schwartz made an odd gurgling sound.
“Hey, what’s matter?” DeVita checked on him, but the big blob of a shark kept making odd wheezing noises into the ground.
The lizard-man’s usually with dirty yellow-green scales suddenly turned white. He lunged at the shark with enough force to cause the heavyweight body to halfway roll-over, enough to see the face of his buddy. And from what he saw, the skin cracked, while the eyes were turning glassy.
“Oh fuck! Give me a sec buddy!”
DeVita quickly got to his feet, and without delay, dashed to get the bucket. It was the most disgusting option, but he had no choice. Then on his second stop, something metallic got knocked over. Not a lot of liquid spilled from it, to be fair.
“Are you fucking-!”
He picked it up, and saw that it still had just a little bit of urine left, just a drop. It was also mushed together with some soft excrements. Whether or it could help him, it will definitely kill him first. Feeling like retching from it, DeVita in bout of disgust and panic, through the bucket to the side, smearing the content on the wall. He began trying to search through his friend’s pockets, on the small glimmer of hope that the big guy forgot a bottle somewhere in all that lard.
Schwartz made another sound, a mix of gurgling twisting into low whistling.
“What is going on there!?” The bird-man shouted.
“You have a bucket!!?” DeVita screamed back, going for the second round of checking.
The bird-man took few seconds to ask, “Why?”
“I need your pee!!!”
There was a pause, the bird clearly couldn’t recognize the situation. DeVita, despite his defiance, came to a terrifying realization that there was no water source on his friend. He will die here, of all places.
“Why do you need water?” the bird-man continued asking.
“Goddamit, I need some fucking liquid or he dies, now hand that over!”
“…I don’t pee.”
“WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU DON’T PEE!!?”
Another whistle came out. It was long, very long, drawn out to feel some noise in what appeared to be a moment of silence. And yet, it began to grow softer and softer.
“Oh Buddy, oh pal…oh fuck!”
Those eyes had cracked too. As if made of balloon, the shark’s body had started to deflate.
“I need…I need…Maybe blood.” DeVita search for the knife, realizing he dropped it in his fit of panic. “Goddammit, he’s gonna have a fit! FUCKING-!”
“Hey!”
“CAN YOU GODFUCKINGSHUTYOURWHOREFUCKING-“
DeVita saw something reflective roll his way, clearly filled with liquid. Unmistakably, it was a water container. He lunged through the bars, stretching his arm and fingers to touch it and pull it in. Once within his hands, he jumped with it back the shark, and destroyed the container’s cap.
“C’mere, open your mouth!” he exclaimed and poured everything precisely into the maw of his friend.
Soon enough, he could hear him give a moan. The water was being absorbed instantaneously, disappearing right even before it touched the skin. Speaking off, his outer layer started to show less cracks than before, and even his eyes lost that glassy look. Sighing in relief, DeVita sat down, next to his moaning friend. The big guy smacked his lips and looked at DeVita as if to ask for more, even though he probably already drank about five liters from that one container alone.
“It’s empty,” DeVita informed him. He then turned to his back, and yelled, “Hey you got another one?! Hey!”
Moving closer to make sure he heard him, DeVita furrowed his brows when he heard some strange gagging coming from there. Coming even closer, DeVita’s eyes popped out from a pretty weird sight. The bird had a container sticking from his mouth, which he held in his hands. Moment later, DeVita realize he was pulling it out, and as soon as he was done, the bird violently coughed and spat some bits of blood.
He looked back at DeVita, and said, “You may thank me later.” Then he threw the cylindrical container their way, landing about half the distance.
“…The fuck?”
DeVita’s eyes were locked on the previously vomited object. The birdman slowly repositioned to face away, though only managed the top half of his body.
“Hey, hey, no falling asleep, wait!” DeVita got back up and banged the bars. He kept on yelling, “I’m talking to you! How the hell did you do that?! HEY!!!”
The birdman would not turn around.
“I said-!” DeVita stopped when he heard Schwartz gurgle. Scowling, he dropped back down and with an effort, managed to reach the container with his arm.
Just like last time, he sprayed the water all over his buddy’s face. The latter, now looking rejuvinated, delightfully soaked himself with the transparent liquid goodness.
“Aaaah…” Schwartz awed. Like an overgrown baby, he grabbed the container like a bottle, and sucked away all of the water from it with one big inhale. After he finished, he let go of it, and looked at DeVita with big, puppy-dog eyes. “Can I have another?”
“God, you’re thirsty…”
DeVita went back to the jail bars and peeked through them.
“Hey, you got another bottle?”
The bird-man, as far as he appeared, just lied still and looked away.
“Hey, I said-“
“Is that everything you need?” he finally answered, barely raising his head from the floor.
“Pretty much,” DeVita answered, not even bothering to think on it. “Now vomit me another one, and make sure to toss at least three-quarters to me.”
The bird-man raised his head to view his neighbour.
“Isn’t that the reason you’re here?” he asked. “To get this from me?”
DeVita furrowed his eyebrows. It was as if he was asked why the chicken tasted funny after you choked it in powdered pepper and spice. Poor, poor Missus Cluck.
“Do you know who I am!?”
DeVita scratched his chin. “I could, if you give me your name.”
The bird had his eyes fixated on him. Then he said slowly, “Talun-Tas.”
“Hey there, Talun,” the latter answered. “DeVita.”
The bird took a moment, as if waiting for something. As nothing happened, sighing in a weird combination of exasperation and relief, he proceeded to casually retch another container with water. DeVita had no clue if this was disturbing or just disgusting.
“Here, this one should be bigger,” he said in between sputtered coughs, and threw it. It lands about two-fifths the way.
“Did your grandma teach to throw like that?” DeVita complained. “Cause, swear on my life, she’ll be disappointed to know you threw worse than her.”
“I got you the water, be happy about that,” Talun-Tas retorted, and returned to sleep. That is to say, he turned his upper half away again, and when DeVita tried to call him again, he started very loudly and very deliberately snore.
“Holy shit, thank you for that, oh fatass almighty!” DeVita yelled. “Now that you got your thanks, how about you stop pretending, spit out another and THIS TIME actually THROW it to ME!”
Talun-Tas did not answer at all.
“Throw another again, or I’ll break through these bars and cave your head in!!!”
Talun ceased snoring, exhaled and then turned his head.
“If you can break it, why not just do it to get the container?”
DeVita wouldn’t answer at first. He simply got himself in that ready stance, with finger up and his mouth open, but nothing seemed to be coming out of him.
Until he stumbled on something.
“Since when can you make stuff come out of you?” he asked. The bird looked at him impassively.
“Don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Buddy, there’s no ‘I dunno’ shit here, cut it out,” DeVita snapped. “What’s the big idea? You can magic up item out of your stomach? That’s why it’s so swollen? Don’t tell me, you ate everything, and turned yourself into a walking storage bag that can puke whatever he needs whenever he needs it?”
Talun, apparently, didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he tried to roll his body away. After failing and giving up, for a solid minute, he just sighed and chewed air in his beak.
“I wasn’t the one who stuffed myself, just to be clear,” he mentioned.
“That so?”
“Yes, very much so.” Talun the propped himself up. It was just as excruciatingly embarrassing to watch as his attempts to turn. “Tell me, what would you do if you became immortal, first thing first?”
“Wha..?” DeVita noticed the genuine look of Talun-Tas at that moment. He took this moment to collect his thoughts, regarded the idea with thorough and fair examination, giving it time to sit in him.
And then, he finally said, “Um…Geez, I guess I…Oh man, I could try to get myself some hidden treasures for free, maybe.”
Talun’s expression dropped the genuine element.
“One of those from…That Barry the Executioner!” DeVita continued. “The guy I owe money to, but he also owes me, so what I do is let him kill me, then I kill him, since I can’t be killed!” He dusted off his hands. “BAM! After that…I guess, I dunno, try to go to the Abyss. But then, I’d probably get eaten there first. Which sounds like pain in the ass. It’ll probably try to digest me too. Actually, if I can’t die, maybe digesting wouldn’t work. I’ll probably be stuck inside that thing for a while. Damn, that would suck then…”
DeVita scratched his head again. When you live everyday with a sense that you might die, the idea of what happens if you hadn’t just seemed like an alien concept. He sat down on the floor and tapped the side of his face. What an odd thought to be dwelling on.
“I dunno!” he finally responded. “What IS immortality useful for? Coming back from stab wounds? Like my grandma says, you learn from mistakes, and if you can’t die, there’s no learning then, right? And I learn a lot. I mean, I learned a lot. I know a lot. Not that I got stabbed a lot…And dying ain’ that scary. I guess I’m saying…immortality is pointless.”
Talun-Tas’s expression were locked in place, directly pointing to DeVita. The latter shrugged after his whole speech, as if to imply he was done.
“This is…Exactly!”
DeVita watched Talun-Tas and nearly lost his jaw to the floor. The bird began shifting in place, until he finally managed to plant his knees, before shockingly enough, stand up.
“Imagine,” the bird continued, “of all the gifts of the god you could get, and its GODDAMN IMMORTALITY! What am I supposed to do with this?” Talun said, grabbing and showing off his misshapen body. “Get myself killed, over and over? Oh sure, I have infinite years to spend, I just get up, and then get myself killed again! I have all the time to do whatever I want, but everything keeps changing around me! And I can’t do anything about it! I’m not some genius with a plan, I am a sucker who got roped in, and now,” he slapped the gut, “I do this! Who the hell decided to give me immortality, huh?! Without getting me something more useful, like a genie or super-strength, or maybe an army! I can do an army! But nope, all I have become, is a giant weapons deposit! What a goddam gift of the gods, right!? THIS. IS. POINTLESS!!!”
DeVita did not say a word back. The only way he came up to respond was by slowly nodding his head while sitting, playing up an image of an attentive schoolboy. This meant that the only noise all three heard after the speech were the torches, steps from outside, and Talon, huffing and panting. The bird’s legs then slowly gave out and he dropped with his ass back on the floor.
“…You okay bud?” DeVita asked.
The bird huffed once more and finally made himself more comfortable. “Yes, you can say that,” he told him. DeVita just noticed how thin the bird’s legs were. For all this talk of his grossness, the guy had no muscle. They were just sticks carrying a stuffed meat bag.
“I dunno what is going on with you,” DeVita said, “but let me tell ya, that wallowing on the past ain’t gonna fix your issues, pal. You made a mistake once, or someone made a mistake using you. I say, big deal! You take what you have and take charge of it! I never cared what I am, and neither should you!”
The bird was gazing at the lizard for a long while. That long, thoughtful one, no different than DeVita’s own when he sees a shiny piece of whetted metal.
“You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, finally.
“All I know is that you got issues, and a nifty trick of puking up bottles of water,” DeVita said. His head turned backwards from the sound of his friend on the ground. “Speaking of, I still need that other one. Try tossing it better.”
“He…has a giant machine,” Talun explained, confusing DeVita, “which can take any material and change it into another material. Which can be anything. That machine happens to be magitek, too. As in, a machine that uses magic.”
DeVita’s face was barely changing. With enough time, Talun realized that he was just gawking at him.
Still, he continued, “Now, to make anything, what you need is a supply of materials. Just cause you can do anything, still doesn’t mean you can make thin air out of it. But, if you find some sort of constant, never-ending supply of material, you can be set for life. For example, what if you got an immortal person, who never dies from losing flesh, and gains it back the next day?”
DeVita slowly nodded his head. “Ok,” he said. “Why are you telling me this?”
The bird looked at him incredulously. There was some shuffling behind DeVita, as the giant fish began asking for more water.
“Just wait a second Schwartz, I’m talkin’ here.” He looked back at Talun again. “So, you mean you know an immortal, or what?”
Talun shook his head, his beak forming a crooked grin. “Are you that dumb?” he unhesitatingly asked.
DeVita jumped back to his feet. Maybe it was irritation speaking from being left in the dark, but he began shouting back at Talun, filling the empty air of the dungeon with obscenities. This included telling him to “Shut that fucking beak up” and “Learn to shit that weight out better”, among other things. Throughout this whole time, the bird grinned like an idiot, as if he found a hidden treasure.
…
Dart sneaked past Snake-Eyed without much of a fuss. Confrontations are usual, especially with bandits, who tend to care little about their own lives. But seeing him leave without looking back, she continued towards the door, and knocked on it seven times, exactly.
It was opened a few seconds later.
“I’m coming!” the cat announced as soon as he swung the door open. His body got caught in mid-fall forward, before steadying himself back up to look around proudly. With another sigh of dissatisfaction, he spun on his heels and re-entered the house again.
Inside, the first thing he did was to drink, the second time in a row he has done, after someone had him get out of the house. Burping out rather pitifully, he rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, before finally reaching for the doors of a wardrobe. He threw them to the sides, standing face to face against the large collection of cloaks, ponchos, hats, towels, robes, and a bucket on the corner.
He pushed them all aside, until the stone wall of the house could be easily seen. The wardrobe, apparently, had an open back. Furthermore, one could see that this piece of furniture was rather large for someone living in these tight quarters. The cat climbed into the wardrobe and pressed his hand to both sides of the wardrobe’s rear frame. Then, as if it was a piece of paper, he removed a huge square chunk of the stone wall. More accurately, it could be called folding paper, which he then neatly put away to the side. Afterwards, he stopped in front of the wardrobe and just stood there. He was taking a moment to contemplate, as most drunkards do. Sighing and swaying side to side, the cat plopped down on the wardrobe’s base, then leaned his head against the wall, and gave out a very depressing, very long burp.
“Why am I even here…?” he muttered.
As if he was about to think on his life some more, he eyes settled on the wine again. Not wanting to lose that lustrous feeling again, he stood up to get it again. But before he could grasp its neck, a metallic fist landed in his eye. He spent the rest of the night in blissful journey to the dreamlands.
Dart methodically shoved the body under the beds, before quickly heading to the hole within the wardrobe. A dark passageway, leading downwards with a set of stairs was in it. She rotated the knob on the side of her helmet, and then confidently made her way down the passage. It was after thirty steps that some light had finally began to illuminate her way, in the form of small candle lights, situated in deep grooves within the walls. It was at this time that she noticed how spacious the whole secret hallway has been. With her lithe body, she could fit in five more of herself. Even that huge blubberfish could manage to fit in here with ease.
After covering through twenty-five more steps, she could hear someone talking, finally. And rather loudly too, making it clear she was on the right track.
“Start using your brain!”
“Shut yer yap, you overstuffed turkey!!!”
“I’m dhirstheeeeeee!”
Dart quickly descended through the rest of the steps, until she landed on the smooth, hard floor. The room she was in was still spacious, now illuminated by single row of torchlights. Those three were still arguing, though now, they were doing it on the opposite side of the wall. Dart pressed a lever on the rear of her helmet and stared at the wall for a short minute. She led herself along the wall, and stopped only after finding that one, needed brick. She pushed it, and the wall in front of her hinged open.
She pulled from her pocket the yarn ball and unclipped the end of the strand. She lightly pulled on the bricks, only to put more effort when the hidden door revealed to be much heavier. Making the opening just slightly bigger, she slipped in, then looked for the prisoner in question. As chance would have it, he happened to be right in front of her. A red bird man, with distended stomach, wildly flailing his arms, but unable to get himself off the ground, thanks to his enormous torso. She aimed at the bar of the bird’s cell with the strand, after attaching a piece of paper on it. She threw it with a flick, and after it hit one bar of his cell with a satisfying “cling!”, she immediately retreated. The first part of the plan was finished.
Talus eyed the broken bar, which fell apart once something hit it. He peeked over at the door which usually was used by the messenger whenever they had some sort of order for him. However, all he saw was a slightly off wall, and a strand of yarn, which led all the way from it to the bar. Curious over this, he waddled on his knees towards it. This all happened while the lizard continued on his yelling, by the way.
“AND ANOTHER THING!” exclaimed DeVita, “IF YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY BELLYBUTTON AGAIN, I WILL whatcha got there?”
He pushed his nose in between the bars, eyeing the letter at the bird’s hands. He couldn’t see, but he could tell by the parchment quality, that it must have come from that “boss” himself. Schwarz tried to nosy in too, crawling in on all fours while asking what was going on, but DeVita pushed him back two fingers. As Talus reached the bottom of the page, his eyes grew as big and round as his belly.
“He wants me to go HOW BIG?!” Talus yelled in full volume. “Is he completely insane!!?”
“What? What’s wrong?” DeVita kept on asking. “Wanna share some stuff, buddy?”
Talus sat down and looked over the notes again, still in disbelief over the orders given. He was clutching at his own throat, already feeling the pain and suffering he will be going through, in order to make this huge monster. That madman has gone off of his rocker, and is simply looking to shoot fire into every direction possible. There were no more plans of building a new empire. All he cared for was to make the fire bigger. Talus kept rubbing his throat, and then looked at his belly. He needed to escape, even if he was physically incapable. He might survive this, but he won’t be “alive” anymore.
“Hey, I’m still talking here!”
Talus looked over to the two men. The lizard was leaning as lightly as possible on the bars as to not break them, expectantly waiting for Talus to let him get a look at the map. The shark was still drinking some water from the canister.
“Say, lizard,” Talus started, as a thought suddenly came to his mind.
“Mister DeVita to you, and whadd’ya want?”
“I…” he carefully considered his request, again and again. Up until now, his life was just an endless stream of happenings to him. He wanted a lazy life without a worry. And now, after several years of torture and pain brought to him by his own foolishness, he can finally take back what was taken from him. “I, have a proposition.”
…
Onyx sat at the edge of the large sandy hill, watching from afar with a pair of binoculars. The ones he had were equipped with night vision, but he turned it off, because the city was bright enough already. From fire to that giant golden machine, he would probably go blind using them. Ramus returned to sit near him again, leaving Pot to play with the “snake” by himself again.
“Anything?” Ramus asked.
Onyx took a swig from his energy drink. After giving a spit, he finally put down the binoculars.
“She’s out. All clear,” he said triumphantly.
“Onyx, I want you to tell me, just out of curiousity,” spoke Ram. “What does this invention do, that one that they want?”
“My friend, you know it’s never about the machine!” Onyx said. He stood up and waved the golden sheet to Pot. “Your turn now, buddy!”
“Duuuuuuuuude!” Pot exclaimed in happiness, before shoving the “snake” face-first into the sand. Ramus did not like the idea of leaving it like that.
Onyx pulled the ram’s backpack.
“Let’s bring them in, now.”
“I…really don’t like this idea,” Ramus noted hesitantly.
“It’s foolproof, man. C’mon, don’t get nervous now,” Onyx replied, pulling out an oversized cage from within the insides of his friend’s bag. There were many noises scattering the cage, and many, many, many fangs and claws that ran within it. Ramus gave one last disapproving shake. Onyx waved the golden sheet over it, before saying, “Let the final part of the plan…begin.”
…
-----------------------------------------
…
“And so, minutes later, now we are here. I think you got the rest,” DeVita finished. He of course omitted the second time they were given that offer, which he accidentally mistook for a threat and ended up nearly killing themselves on the spot.
“Woooow,” the bird squawked sarcastically. “You two are pretty much losers, huh?”
“Excuse me, Mister Fatass how about you..!” the bird turned his head away before he could finish. DeVita hissed, but frustration made him leave the topic. As his eyes glazed over the corridor, noticing each ornate emblem on the wall, something up and popped in his mind. It was innocuous, and yet noticeable. “Is it me, or does the castle looks different inside and outside?”
The bird raised his head slightly, watching from the corner of his eye.
DeVita continued, “I mean, if you got goin’ to spend, why not spend it on, I dunno, making it all uniform? Huh? Why make it so confused, so double-faced?”
“That’s because the outside was a recent addition.”
“…Oh?” DeVita asked inquisitively.
“Yeah, it wasn’t like that, before.”
DeVita’s scaly eyebrow was raised and he stroke his flat chin. This was definitely an interesting find. Of course, whether it means anything is up in the air, but it was still a find.
“So, what are you go to do now?” The bird prodded him out of his train of thoughts. “Figure out how to get out of this place?”
“Get out…of this?” DeVita chuckled, tapping the rusty bars with his fingers. “These dinkie spoons we’ll destroy in seconds, ain’t that right, Schwartz?”
Schwartz’s nose was entering a bucket found in a corner.
“That’s pee, don’t drink it.”
“Aww, but’ I’m thirsdy.”
DeVita sighed and began itching his cheek. He lamented the situation, a lot, and unless he could come up with a good escape plan, they might deal with an insane man who holds power. And true to his experience, they all are awful to be around with. He took his knife out again to suck on it.
“And what will you do after that?” the birdman asked.
As DeVita felt his stress lower away, he turned to birdman.
“We’ll rob the whatever the immortal thing he has and get the rewards. I mean, that’s what we set out to do. Say, have you seen-”
“I see,” the bird cut him off and went back to sleep.
Before DeVita could kindly ask “The hell!?” to him, the loud sound of snoring and whistling started emanating from that neighbouring cell. DeVita was now left to his thoughts.
…
It was the dead of night at the Devil’s Bowl. Nothing alive would go out, mainly because it was form of unspoken agreement that all must sleep during that time. Because if you aren’t, you’re either a monster or looking to die. Mercenaries tended to be the ones to break that rule readily, and those who continued working are the ones who survived. Pretty straightforward, it is.
The terrain is among many of the reasons why the Devil’s Bowl is so unpassable. It is sandy, so of course it is coarse, brittle, and gets in everywhere, among other things. It was almost impossible to traverse it, without using specially tamed animals that had to be bought from secular tribes, as well as scheduling trips to certain points of the year. As such, most of the land behind Garbage Area was never explored fully.
That is until several years ago, a brilliant inventor created a special type of engine from metallic alloy, one never seen before. This helped with creating some of the most sophisticated and well-kept vehicles that could cross through the dessert plains with ease. The inventor became famous, enough to be hired by the nobles themselves. And while vehicles were something he helped with creating, so were other, unusual type of technology that has become the defining feature within the richer elite. However, one day, that inventor disappeared, and with him many of his blueprints for even more fantastical technologies disappeared. Where they are now, is sadly still a mystery.
“Try to keep up!”
The Art-Onyx glided off the top of the dune with his hoverboard. A large, wheel-less device that he could flip around like it is made of carboard and never have to worry it being jammed by sand. Behind him, the rest of the members of his gang followed on their own modes of transportation. Dart was beautifully precise with her roller skating, doing a triple spin jump on her way down. Ramus just burst through the dune clunkily yet holding on tight to his dessert bike, whose fat tires trampled the ground indiscriminately. Pot was last, the weasel drawing circumference around what’s left of the sandy hill on his unicycle, his mouth chewing on a device. He didn’t seem to be eager to join the gang yet, which no one minded. Onyx himself figured that he was just having fun.
“Alright, then!” Onyx announced, as he jumped off of the board, “I think I see the town now!” He stomped one of its ends to turn it off and flip it into his hands. He crouched down, until he was right at the edge of the hill, where he could get a clear view of city. Dart stood next to him on the right, while Ramus took perch on his left shoulder.
It all was happening at night, at the moment, though the way the city shined probably didn’t make much of a different. Thanks to a bunch of campfires scattered by the bandits done to celebrate their depravity and the giant golden machine near the main castle, that place just begged to be found by a vagabond. Hedonism was a celebrated element of banditry, such things as partying at night was a usual occurrence. Particularly, if the place in question was considered their haven, which likely meant they either did not care that someone might sneak in. Mostly because they were probably armed to the teeth with weapons that discourage anyone from giving their place a second glance.
Onyx began to rummage through his backpack, getting out a pair of binoculars.
“Mehhh,” Ramus grunted, patting sand off of his pants. “Was there exactly a reason why you had those two get captured?”
“Yeah, yeah there were,” Onyx said, watching the town from afar. “Can you get the map?”
Ramus shook his head, but reached into his backpack regardless. After a minute, he pulled a folded sheet of paper, whose size was enough to act as a picnic blanket when laid down. He neatly placed it right next to the hawk, who, after finally noticing it, crinkled the whole thing up just to take a look at one part of the paper.
“Alright then,” Ramus said, sighing. “By the way, can I mention how I loathe your tendency towards risky stunts?”
“Let’s take a look at this baby…” said Onyx, ignoring him. The map had very detailed information for the whole city, and not simply just outside roads. Each building was given a thorough interior blueprint, with Onyx particularly paying attention to the inners of the main castle. He pointed with his finger to the passage next to the prison hall. “If I am guessing correctly, that’s where they are storing our treasure. Which includes, the two stars of our show.”
“They are probably armed with those…things,” noted Ramus. Onyx nodded in agreement.
“Therefore, everything must be done with purpose. Get in, get them out, get yourself in, then get yourself out. Got it, Dart?”
The masked member of their group did not reply verbally, only giving a thumbs up from behind.
“But how do we know they aren’t dead?” Ramus interjected. “You do know, they are just as likely to be dead? They probably killed themselves dealing with a maniac?”
“Nah.” Onyx folded the map back and handed it to Dart. “I followed them quite a bit. They just don’t seem to want to die!” He laughed. “Kinda great isn’t it? Besides, that ‘maniac’ has something more to him than meets the eye.”
Ramus’s brow was raised at the smile Onyx gave to him, but both stopped at the sound of something being dug. All three looked at Pot, whose upper body was now deep inside the sandy dune. None of them dared to ask what he was doing.
Ramus continued,
“It’s still a risky plan.”
“Look, relax,” Onyx brushed him off, while unpacking his own bag. He pulled out a golden sheet and with it, his midnight snack, made up of protein bar and energy drink. Everything was sold in vending machines only found at their guild: “convenience made EXEMPLARY!”
“And what happens if we are found out? Or worse, we’ll have to fight them ourselves?” Ramus kept badgering their leader, but the latter just took a bite from his granola bar, before putting it down on the sheet.
“You’re overthinking again. I told you, those two will do everything for us.”
Before Ramus could add one last point in, and wave of sand fell on them from the side. The trio met the sight of Pot, with his arm outstretched holding and wiggling a piece of cloth.
“Heeeeeey, duuuuuuuudes! Cheeeck this out,” Pot reached for the cloth and lifted one part of it to show a rat-like face underneath. It hissed when each of them took a look at him. “I think weee got a snake heeeere.”
Onyx stood up to and got closer to the rat. He noticed that it had slit-eyes and tail of a lizard as well. It was a “snake”, and more than likely, a spy for the bandits.
“Excellent, man! Dart was right, someone WAS tailing us!” Onyx elbowed Ramus.
“To be fair, it would be worrisome if she didn’t manage to spot him.”
Pot brought it over to the others, allowing a closer look to the shaking little creature.
“Alright, I think we’re more than ready.” Onyx shown hand signal to Dart, who nodded in response. He moved to Ram, who, unenthusiastically, reached into his backpack and pulled a yarn ball. “Let’s get things going,” the hawk said, and gave the last gift to Dart.
One thing that can be said about bandits, was that they tended to be a jubilant lot. You didn’t follow any rules, you didn’t care for any future, all you had was the present. It was a life of constant danger, impossible odds and wild celebrations. Unlike scavengers, being a bandit meant complete freedom. Of course, they still allow for some type of intermingling activities, like for example, building a quick shop to sell their wares, or make a campfire for celebrations. Sometimes they do both in one, and generally walk away with few dead bodies, which is why sellers tend to disappear just as quickly as they appear.
Dart counted the eighth time she heard someone shoot, and seventh time someone say, “Aww shit, he’s dead.” They missed once, by the way. They were at least five different campfires standing in the way of Dart and the main castle. And while no one was sober enough to be a threat on their own, even being seen once could spell trouble. Bandits tended to make a lot of noise, even if they were to die. There were also little to no lookouts between them. Then again, even when sober, bandits rarely try to be look-outs. Reasons varied: too expensive, bandits are already vigilant making it pointless, or you simply could not trust another bandit with looking after loot. If you would kill for a loot, why wouldn’t someone else? Anyways, that job was always passed to paid “snakes,” whom they caught earlier.
Dart planned out her route through the town, her memory of the map clear. The town was made of mostly buildings, and would condense the closer it was to the castle. All the while, the bandits ran about without care in the world. And so, to get there required elegance. And Dart knew that the key to her successes was always the elegance. To roll through the streets, doing as minimal noise and movement that was possible. A push forward, a dash to the side, a turn that leads to a spin, slide into one’s shadow, slip below two locked arms of drunkards, hop above a corpse on the street, sneak right behind a barrel…Then suddenly, there appeared a conga line. One of those music boxes played on top of the building, which buzzed and crackled like a person who smoked three times a day, and the melody could only be faintly heard. And yet they ignored it, by cracking the volume on high and singing the tune themselves. It worked for them well enough.
Dart scanned the area again. Drunk people were easy to evade, but there was always a possibility of someone not that drunk nearby. And of course, she came across a few, with one in particular sitting atop a tall barrel. Dart pressed a button behind her helmet, removing her visor. Something in that barrel stood out to her. Though she would prefer not to use it lightly, this gave her an idea.
The man, after giving one last hurrah into the air, took swig of alcohol that was in his jug. And then, as if timed, everything below him exploded. Wood splinters and metallic bits flew into the air, followed by endless amount of golden coins, covering the whole ground.
“What the hell!?” the man shouted, only to be drowned by the sudden assault of greedy colleagues.
“FREE TREASURE!!!” they yelled, despite the man’s plea, who claimed that the treasure was his. This was as pointless as pleading a hungry shark to not eat them, even though they just slathered themselves with BBQ sauce.
Dart passed them as quickly as lightning, unseen by the bandits. In due time, she reached the bottom of the castle’s stairs. Surely enough, it was defended by guards from the front. Dart swiftly moved her body from one object to the next, making sure that the guards couldn’t see her. Those two were bandits as well, but armed with long-range weaponry. These two either did not like to party, or just couldn’t get drunk, she figured, as their reason why they were still in their posts.
She kept moving, giving a good look at the outside of the castle. As Ramus claimed, they were built to be impenetrable, but also easily escapable. She searched for the secret openings, which included a secret hatch around the back of the castle. She continued to bob and weave between different shadows made by the objects around her, exactly as to how she practiced beforehand.
Though as she moved, she noticed few oddities of the place. Commonly, a wall would surround the building, dividing itself from the rest of the town. It was a common courtesy to show oneself as more important enough to be defended when you were a noble. However, it seems to have been taken down, and very cleanly too. She saw the foundation remains circling the building, with not even one pebble around it. Another oddity was the building’s top. The color was very white, which in comparison to bright red coloring of the building, brighter than the darkness of the night, gave a play of two opposing, if complementary colors. That said, it had now sported a giant golden hat on it, which did not add to the color scheme of the place. Its emblems, also, were one and the same, but if silvery steel color was used for the ones scattered below at few chosen places, a huge golden one that stuck like a star ornament at its crown was probably too extravagant. This piqued Dart’s interest like no other.
She calmed down, though, once she reached the golden dome machinery. Alongside it, she noticed two very peculiar figures, one of whom she recognized immediately. Carefully, she hid herself behind a house, several feet away the two. By the bottom of the machine, the noble was digging through one of the barrels, under the snakey-eye of his right-hand bandit.
“More gold…more guns…more thiggamajigs…more…more…” was being chanted by Darrold. The noble was seemingly in a trance, same one seen when a thirsty man starts shoveling the sand away to find a water-passage. These people can be quite scary.
Dart adjusted the knob at the side of her visor, magnifying until she could see more of the barrel. To her surprise, and interest, the barrel contained none of the objects he listed. But there was a large amount of gravel and sand. Enough that his usually primly white gloves turned light shade of beige, which he could’ve easily noticed thanks to the shine that came everywhere. And also, if he wasn’t being manic.
“I just need more,” was Darrold’s repeated phrase. He gave a chuckle, gathering the sand and rocks between his two palms, and then let it trickle while raising it all into the air. “And after that, we can take over the house of Gluttoria. I can be the king. No more of hateful stares or jeering…just me, at my rightful place. Can you imagine? Thrown away, only to become the ruler of a noble house! Oh…oh…more…”
The Snake-Eyed coughed a bit. Both of his eyes were constantly shifting to somewhere else, not particularly interested in the conversation.
“Tell me, Snake-Eyed,” Darrold said, carrying a clump of said sand and rock. “Tell me…how much more do we need?”
Snake-Eyed peeked at the clump, before taking a whiff of the air. “Boss, if I may be permitted, there’s way more to the invasion than just a bunch of people gathered to-“
“Do you, or do you NOT want to take them down?” The noble was gritting through his teeth. “Do you NOT want to make them pay, for abusing you? For killing your friends?”
Snake-Eyed coughed, opting to simply leave it unanswered. A professional way to keep yourself from saying something wrong.
“Do you want treasure…or not?” Darrold whispered this last line.
Snake-Eyed looked up in the air, and after finally sighing it out, blurted it out as, “Boss, what’s it to ya, really? I am just saying, that, maybe, before anything, you should focus on building your own empire? You got the resources, Boss, you got an army… made of thousands of idiots. They are not loyal, sure, but they are easily bought, and the rest can be given some crystals to sniff. Why not just do that? Why not-”
“Because, I WANT TO!!!”
Snake-Eyed pursed his mouth shut. It was always difficult to deal with an employer who’ll snap if you try to reason with them, who doesn’t want to listen to anything but their voice being echoed back. He probably considered leaving it after tonight, and let it all blow up. A smart bandit would do that.
“Look at me,” Darrold said, vying for bandit’s attention as he reached into his breast pocket. From it he pulled a small spoon, whose silvery head was worn on a golden, intricately designed handle. On the back of it was vividly inscribed “Darrold” ending with an attached picture of a young boy. “This…this small thing, is the sign of my destiny! The truth behind my own past! Searching through Gluttoria’s treasury, I found this small, insignificant little thing, and then I knew the truth. And the truth is that I was never some lowlife street urchin. I…am a destined member of a noble house! I do not deserve to be thrown out, spat at on some random corner littered with piss by some dirty, unwashed thugs. I…should be worshipped! Loved by all! Have all of my whims cared! I’ve waited for this chance for far too long, and once those self-important morons come over to visit this town, I will not lose the chance to make them pay!”
Snake-Eyed sighed, “Sir, they are not coming here themselves, they are sending some…” The bandit took a closer look at the spoon. “Sir, this spoon, are you sure it’s not fa-“
‘No more!” the golden-maned man roared. “Now go do what you’re supposed to do!”
The noble pushed the bandit away and headed straight to his machine. Snake-Eyed grabbed the paper left on top of the barrel, shaking his head this whole entire time. A bandit doesn’t question orders, if it pays well.
Dart watched him closely for the next few seconds. Snake-Eyed walked around the machine, keeping precisely five feet away from its circumference, swinging himself towards one of four small houses. They neatly lied in a row behind the castle, each wearing a color of uniform dirty brown. They looked unsuspicious to a common eye, as if were for common servants who live by eating scraps and all the other garbage that nobles would graciously throw behind their backs. And yet, something about them flared Dart’s curiosity. She knew exactly what they were, something far more to what she was looking for.
She dashed her next to fifteen shadows, then after finally getting that smallest distance that she could, headed straight to the machine. It’s huge, shining body would’ve revealed her position immediately, even with that barrel which Darold rummaged through hiding her lithe figure. She didn’t want to waste time, so her focus lied squarely on the bandit. He was reaching the third house, which she quickly discerned to be very different compared to others. Unlike the rest of the set, its door was not facing the castle, but instead away, which Snake-Eyed showed once he started to knock on it. It was seven times, she counted. After waiting a moment, he knocked seven more times at that door. Afterwards, he moved away from the door, and looked through the window. A single one that it had. It was quite small one, too, which Dart categorized noted after positioning behind the second of the four houses. She was now behind Snake-Eyed’s back, who was too busy with shouting and banging the glass. The other houses, also, had two windows instead of one. Their bodies were additionally very square in appearance, whereas that one was more oblong in comparison.
It appeared to have finally worked for the Snake-Eyed, once he left the window and return to stand in front of the door. The entrance was opened by a man with the most luxurious and thickest set of eyebrows that would make an owl blush. But, being on a sphinx cat, it just added to his drunken looking appearance.
Snake-Eyed shoved the paper to latter’s hands and said, “Take it to him. Say should be done by tomorrow. Quickly. And stop drinking.”
The cat’s eyebrows showed glorious amount of dispassion over the words being said to him.
“Ye pry it from me knocked out-cold hands after I dun drinkin’! ‘Mister No Fun’ my ASSHOLE!” The cat took another swig. “Why always from hear? Why not make another door, in front...”
“Because he is going to get rid of that door later. That’s what he said. He also, thinks, we should get rid of all the other houses and use them to make the main castle taller.” The Snake-Eyed scowled at himself after saying that. Someone as prideful as him just couldn’t swallow having to say something so idiotic. But, thus was the work of those who follow “A client’s word is the law” creed.
The cat sighed through a hiccup, which made him forget what he was going say next. Clearing his throat, he decided to let it be and went back-in to his house. The Snake-Eyed turned to leave, following the direction opposite of the main building. The moonlight was shining rather beautifully tonight, enough to enrapture his reptilian eye. Something whooshed past the back of his head, which made him pause for a bit. He resumed his walk not long after, following the way of the moonlight, and beyond, until he left the city completely.
It was a good thing that bandits also followed another creed, “Never follow the law.”
…
“I can’th feel muh fashe,” Schwartz moaned through the dirt of the sand of the cell. He was lying down, with his nose pointing to the ground.
“Ah quit complaining! We gonna think a way outta here!” retorted DeVita, his nose on the ground too.
The bird-man peeked at them. “You two appear to be stuck,” he noted.
“No shit!” DeVita sprung from the ground and immediately went back to his frantic pacing.
It was about time that he needed to accept that he didn’t have an escape plan. And if he were to get out, it would be down to luck, the most horrible of all variables. Mainly, because he never believed in his own. For example, they got caught, couldn’t talk out of being imprisoned, and had no clue about the layout, how many guards there were, nor their positioning. The only thing he knew were the guns, and he knew them really, really well. They say these things turn a person into a meat mush with just one shot, in the most literal manner possible. Oh why, oh why did he had to spend money on knife sharpening workshop, instead of escape room one? They didn’t even offer good blades! And wouldn’t refund on top of that!!!
“Gotta keep my head straight,” DeVita rambled, “C’mon, think, how many times we turned? There was an elevator, and then a click, and then…Gah!” DeVita scratched his scales violently. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time he got captured in some sort of impossible maze before. But those guns…they seemingly are jamming any sense of reason he was left with. It just wasn’t right.
“I want to drink,” pleaded Schwartz from below.
“Not now buddy,” DeVita said and went back to more pacing. He needed to clear his head. They couldn’t make a wrong move anymore. He needed to calm down and focus. Everything will kill them as soon as they leave the door. It was all about proper procedures. Their life depended on making careful decisions. No more distractions.
Then Schwartz made an odd gurgling sound.
“Hey, what’s matter?” DeVita checked on him, but the big blob of a shark kept making odd wheezing noises into the ground.
The lizard-man’s usually with dirty yellow-green scales suddenly turned white. He lunged at the shark with enough force to cause the heavyweight body to halfway roll-over, enough to see the face of his buddy. And from what he saw, the skin cracked, while the eyes were turning glassy.
“Oh fuck! Give me a sec buddy!”
DeVita quickly got to his feet, and without delay, dashed to get the bucket. It was the most disgusting option, but he had no choice. Then on his second stop, something metallic got knocked over. Not a lot of liquid spilled from it, to be fair.
“Are you fucking-!”
He picked it up, and saw that it still had just a little bit of urine left, just a drop. It was also mushed together with some soft excrements. Whether or it could help him, it will definitely kill him first. Feeling like retching from it, DeVita in bout of disgust and panic, through the bucket to the side, smearing the content on the wall. He began trying to search through his friend’s pockets, on the small glimmer of hope that the big guy forgot a bottle somewhere in all that lard.
Schwartz made another sound, a mix of gurgling twisting into low whistling.
“What is going on there!?” The bird-man shouted.
“You have a bucket!!?” DeVita screamed back, going for the second round of checking.
The bird-man took few seconds to ask, “Why?”
“I need your pee!!!”
There was a pause, the bird clearly couldn’t recognize the situation. DeVita, despite his defiance, came to a terrifying realization that there was no water source on his friend. He will die here, of all places.
“Why do you need water?” the bird-man continued asking.
“Goddamit, I need some fucking liquid or he dies, now hand that over!”
“…I don’t pee.”
“WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU DON’T PEE!!?”
Another whistle came out. It was long, very long, drawn out to feel some noise in what appeared to be a moment of silence. And yet, it began to grow softer and softer.
“Oh Buddy, oh pal…oh fuck!”
Those eyes had cracked too. As if made of balloon, the shark’s body had started to deflate.
“I need…I need…Maybe blood.” DeVita search for the knife, realizing he dropped it in his fit of panic. “Goddammit, he’s gonna have a fit! FUCKING-!”
“Hey!”
“CAN YOU GODFUCKINGSHUTYOURWHOREFUCKING-“
DeVita saw something reflective roll his way, clearly filled with liquid. Unmistakably, it was a water container. He lunged through the bars, stretching his arm and fingers to touch it and pull it in. Once within his hands, he jumped with it back the shark, and destroyed the container’s cap.
“C’mere, open your mouth!” he exclaimed and poured everything precisely into the maw of his friend.
Soon enough, he could hear him give a moan. The water was being absorbed instantaneously, disappearing right even before it touched the skin. Speaking off, his outer layer started to show less cracks than before, and even his eyes lost that glassy look. Sighing in relief, DeVita sat down, next to his moaning friend. The big guy smacked his lips and looked at DeVita as if to ask for more, even though he probably already drank about five liters from that one container alone.
“It’s empty,” DeVita informed him. He then turned to his back, and yelled, “Hey you got another one?! Hey!”
Moving closer to make sure he heard him, DeVita furrowed his brows when he heard some strange gagging coming from there. Coming even closer, DeVita’s eyes popped out from a pretty weird sight. The bird had a container sticking from his mouth, which he held in his hands. Moment later, DeVita realize he was pulling it out, and as soon as he was done, the bird violently coughed and spat some bits of blood.
He looked back at DeVita, and said, “You may thank me later.” Then he threw the cylindrical container their way, landing about half the distance.
“…The fuck?”
DeVita’s eyes were locked on the previously vomited object. The birdman slowly repositioned to face away, though only managed the top half of his body.
“Hey, hey, no falling asleep, wait!” DeVita got back up and banged the bars. He kept on yelling, “I’m talking to you! How the hell did you do that?! HEY!!!”
The birdman would not turn around.
“I said-!” DeVita stopped when he heard Schwartz gurgle. Scowling, he dropped back down and with an effort, managed to reach the container with his arm.
Just like last time, he sprayed the water all over his buddy’s face. The latter, now looking rejuvinated, delightfully soaked himself with the transparent liquid goodness.
“Aaaah…” Schwartz awed. Like an overgrown baby, he grabbed the container like a bottle, and sucked away all of the water from it with one big inhale. After he finished, he let go of it, and looked at DeVita with big, puppy-dog eyes. “Can I have another?”
“God, you’re thirsty…”
DeVita went back to the jail bars and peeked through them.
“Hey, you got another bottle?”
The bird-man, as far as he appeared, just lied still and looked away.
“Hey, I said-“
“Is that everything you need?” he finally answered, barely raising his head from the floor.
“Pretty much,” DeVita answered, not even bothering to think on it. “Now vomit me another one, and make sure to toss at least three-quarters to me.”
The bird-man raised his head to view his neighbour.
“Isn’t that the reason you’re here?” he asked. “To get this from me?”
DeVita furrowed his eyebrows. It was as if he was asked why the chicken tasted funny after you choked it in powdered pepper and spice. Poor, poor Missus Cluck.
“Do you know who I am!?”
DeVita scratched his chin. “I could, if you give me your name.”
The bird had his eyes fixated on him. Then he said slowly, “Talun-Tas.”
“Hey there, Talun,” the latter answered. “DeVita.”
The bird took a moment, as if waiting for something. As nothing happened, sighing in a weird combination of exasperation and relief, he proceeded to casually retch another container with water. DeVita had no clue if this was disturbing or just disgusting.
“Here, this one should be bigger,” he said in between sputtered coughs, and threw it. It lands about two-fifths the way.
“Did your grandma teach to throw like that?” DeVita complained. “Cause, swear on my life, she’ll be disappointed to know you threw worse than her.”
“I got you the water, be happy about that,” Talun-Tas retorted, and returned to sleep. That is to say, he turned his upper half away again, and when DeVita tried to call him again, he started very loudly and very deliberately snore.
“Holy shit, thank you for that, oh fatass almighty!” DeVita yelled. “Now that you got your thanks, how about you stop pretending, spit out another and THIS TIME actually THROW it to ME!”
Talun-Tas did not answer at all.
“Throw another again, or I’ll break through these bars and cave your head in!!!”
Talun ceased snoring, exhaled and then turned his head.
“If you can break it, why not just do it to get the container?”
DeVita wouldn’t answer at first. He simply got himself in that ready stance, with finger up and his mouth open, but nothing seemed to be coming out of him.
Until he stumbled on something.
“Since when can you make stuff come out of you?” he asked. The bird looked at him impassively.
“Don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Buddy, there’s no ‘I dunno’ shit here, cut it out,” DeVita snapped. “What’s the big idea? You can magic up item out of your stomach? That’s why it’s so swollen? Don’t tell me, you ate everything, and turned yourself into a walking storage bag that can puke whatever he needs whenever he needs it?”
Talun, apparently, didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he tried to roll his body away. After failing and giving up, for a solid minute, he just sighed and chewed air in his beak.
“I wasn’t the one who stuffed myself, just to be clear,” he mentioned.
“That so?”
“Yes, very much so.” Talun the propped himself up. It was just as excruciatingly embarrassing to watch as his attempts to turn. “Tell me, what would you do if you became immortal, first thing first?”
“Wha..?” DeVita noticed the genuine look of Talun-Tas at that moment. He took this moment to collect his thoughts, regarded the idea with thorough and fair examination, giving it time to sit in him.
And then, he finally said, “Um…Geez, I guess I…Oh man, I could try to get myself some hidden treasures for free, maybe.”
Talun’s expression dropped the genuine element.
“One of those from…That Barry the Executioner!” DeVita continued. “The guy I owe money to, but he also owes me, so what I do is let him kill me, then I kill him, since I can’t be killed!” He dusted off his hands. “BAM! After that…I guess, I dunno, try to go to the Abyss. But then, I’d probably get eaten there first. Which sounds like pain in the ass. It’ll probably try to digest me too. Actually, if I can’t die, maybe digesting wouldn’t work. I’ll probably be stuck inside that thing for a while. Damn, that would suck then…”
DeVita scratched his head again. When you live everyday with a sense that you might die, the idea of what happens if you hadn’t just seemed like an alien concept. He sat down on the floor and tapped the side of his face. What an odd thought to be dwelling on.
“I dunno!” he finally responded. “What IS immortality useful for? Coming back from stab wounds? Like my grandma says, you learn from mistakes, and if you can’t die, there’s no learning then, right? And I learn a lot. I mean, I learned a lot. I know a lot. Not that I got stabbed a lot…And dying ain’ that scary. I guess I’m saying…immortality is pointless.”
Talun-Tas’s expression were locked in place, directly pointing to DeVita. The latter shrugged after his whole speech, as if to imply he was done.
“This is…Exactly!”
DeVita watched Talun-Tas and nearly lost his jaw to the floor. The bird began shifting in place, until he finally managed to plant his knees, before shockingly enough, stand up.
“Imagine,” the bird continued, “of all the gifts of the god you could get, and its GODDAMN IMMORTALITY! What am I supposed to do with this?” Talun said, grabbing and showing off his misshapen body. “Get myself killed, over and over? Oh sure, I have infinite years to spend, I just get up, and then get myself killed again! I have all the time to do whatever I want, but everything keeps changing around me! And I can’t do anything about it! I’m not some genius with a plan, I am a sucker who got roped in, and now,” he slapped the gut, “I do this! Who the hell decided to give me immortality, huh?! Without getting me something more useful, like a genie or super-strength, or maybe an army! I can do an army! But nope, all I have become, is a giant weapons deposit! What a goddam gift of the gods, right!? THIS. IS. POINTLESS!!!”
DeVita did not say a word back. The only way he came up to respond was by slowly nodding his head while sitting, playing up an image of an attentive schoolboy. This meant that the only noise all three heard after the speech were the torches, steps from outside, and Talon, huffing and panting. The bird’s legs then slowly gave out and he dropped with his ass back on the floor.
“…You okay bud?” DeVita asked.
The bird huffed once more and finally made himself more comfortable. “Yes, you can say that,” he told him. DeVita just noticed how thin the bird’s legs were. For all this talk of his grossness, the guy had no muscle. They were just sticks carrying a stuffed meat bag.
“I dunno what is going on with you,” DeVita said, “but let me tell ya, that wallowing on the past ain’t gonna fix your issues, pal. You made a mistake once, or someone made a mistake using you. I say, big deal! You take what you have and take charge of it! I never cared what I am, and neither should you!”
The bird was gazing at the lizard for a long while. That long, thoughtful one, no different than DeVita’s own when he sees a shiny piece of whetted metal.
“You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, finally.
“All I know is that you got issues, and a nifty trick of puking up bottles of water,” DeVita said. His head turned backwards from the sound of his friend on the ground. “Speaking of, I still need that other one. Try tossing it better.”
“He…has a giant machine,” Talun explained, confusing DeVita, “which can take any material and change it into another material. Which can be anything. That machine happens to be magitek, too. As in, a machine that uses magic.”
DeVita’s face was barely changing. With enough time, Talun realized that he was just gawking at him.
Still, he continued, “Now, to make anything, what you need is a supply of materials. Just cause you can do anything, still doesn’t mean you can make thin air out of it. But, if you find some sort of constant, never-ending supply of material, you can be set for life. For example, what if you got an immortal person, who never dies from losing flesh, and gains it back the next day?”
DeVita slowly nodded his head. “Ok,” he said. “Why are you telling me this?”
The bird looked at him incredulously. There was some shuffling behind DeVita, as the giant fish began asking for more water.
“Just wait a second Schwartz, I’m talkin’ here.” He looked back at Talun again. “So, you mean you know an immortal, or what?”
Talun shook his head, his beak forming a crooked grin. “Are you that dumb?” he unhesitatingly asked.
DeVita jumped back to his feet. Maybe it was irritation speaking from being left in the dark, but he began shouting back at Talun, filling the empty air of the dungeon with obscenities. This included telling him to “Shut that fucking beak up” and “Learn to shit that weight out better”, among other things. Throughout this whole time, the bird grinned like an idiot, as if he found a hidden treasure.
…
Dart sneaked past Snake-Eyed without much of a fuss. Confrontations are usual, especially with bandits, who tend to care little about their own lives. But seeing him leave without looking back, she continued towards the door, and knocked on it seven times, exactly.
It was opened a few seconds later.
“I’m coming!” the cat announced as soon as he swung the door open. His body got caught in mid-fall forward, before steadying himself back up to look around proudly. With another sigh of dissatisfaction, he spun on his heels and re-entered the house again.
Inside, the first thing he did was to drink, the second time in a row he has done, after someone had him get out of the house. Burping out rather pitifully, he rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, before finally reaching for the doors of a wardrobe. He threw them to the sides, standing face to face against the large collection of cloaks, ponchos, hats, towels, robes, and a bucket on the corner.
He pushed them all aside, until the stone wall of the house could be easily seen. The wardrobe, apparently, had an open back. Furthermore, one could see that this piece of furniture was rather large for someone living in these tight quarters. The cat climbed into the wardrobe and pressed his hand to both sides of the wardrobe’s rear frame. Then, as if it was a piece of paper, he removed a huge square chunk of the stone wall. More accurately, it could be called folding paper, which he then neatly put away to the side. Afterwards, he stopped in front of the wardrobe and just stood there. He was taking a moment to contemplate, as most drunkards do. Sighing and swaying side to side, the cat plopped down on the wardrobe’s base, then leaned his head against the wall, and gave out a very depressing, very long burp.
“Why am I even here…?” he muttered.
As if he was about to think on his life some more, he eyes settled on the wine again. Not wanting to lose that lustrous feeling again, he stood up to get it again. But before he could grasp its neck, a metallic fist landed in his eye. He spent the rest of the night in blissful journey to the dreamlands.
Dart methodically shoved the body under the beds, before quickly heading to the hole within the wardrobe. A dark passageway, leading downwards with a set of stairs was in it. She rotated the knob on the side of her helmet, and then confidently made her way down the passage. It was after thirty steps that some light had finally began to illuminate her way, in the form of small candle lights, situated in deep grooves within the walls. It was at this time that she noticed how spacious the whole secret hallway has been. With her lithe body, she could fit in five more of herself. Even that huge blubberfish could manage to fit in here with ease.
After covering through twenty-five more steps, she could hear someone talking, finally. And rather loudly too, making it clear she was on the right track.
“Start using your brain!”
“Shut yer yap, you overstuffed turkey!!!”
“I’m dhirstheeeeeee!”
Dart quickly descended through the rest of the steps, until she landed on the smooth, hard floor. The room she was in was still spacious, now illuminated by single row of torchlights. Those three were still arguing, though now, they were doing it on the opposite side of the wall. Dart pressed a lever on the rear of her helmet and stared at the wall for a short minute. She led herself along the wall, and stopped only after finding that one, needed brick. She pushed it, and the wall in front of her hinged open.
She pulled from her pocket the yarn ball and unclipped the end of the strand. She lightly pulled on the bricks, only to put more effort when the hidden door revealed to be much heavier. Making the opening just slightly bigger, she slipped in, then looked for the prisoner in question. As chance would have it, he happened to be right in front of her. A red bird man, with distended stomach, wildly flailing his arms, but unable to get himself off the ground, thanks to his enormous torso. She aimed at the bar of the bird’s cell with the strand, after attaching a piece of paper on it. She threw it with a flick, and after it hit one bar of his cell with a satisfying “cling!”, she immediately retreated. The first part of the plan was finished.
Talus eyed the broken bar, which fell apart once something hit it. He peeked over at the door which usually was used by the messenger whenever they had some sort of order for him. However, all he saw was a slightly off wall, and a strand of yarn, which led all the way from it to the bar. Curious over this, he waddled on his knees towards it. This all happened while the lizard continued on his yelling, by the way.
“AND ANOTHER THING!” exclaimed DeVita, “IF YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY BELLYBUTTON AGAIN, I WILL whatcha got there?”
He pushed his nose in between the bars, eyeing the letter at the bird’s hands. He couldn’t see, but he could tell by the parchment quality, that it must have come from that “boss” himself. Schwarz tried to nosy in too, crawling in on all fours while asking what was going on, but DeVita pushed him back two fingers. As Talus reached the bottom of the page, his eyes grew as big and round as his belly.
“He wants me to go HOW BIG?!” Talus yelled in full volume. “Is he completely insane!!?”
“What? What’s wrong?” DeVita kept on asking. “Wanna share some stuff, buddy?”
Talus sat down and looked over the notes again, still in disbelief over the orders given. He was clutching at his own throat, already feeling the pain and suffering he will be going through, in order to make this huge monster. That madman has gone off of his rocker, and is simply looking to shoot fire into every direction possible. There were no more plans of building a new empire. All he cared for was to make the fire bigger. Talus kept rubbing his throat, and then looked at his belly. He needed to escape, even if he was physically incapable. He might survive this, but he won’t be “alive” anymore.
“Hey, I’m still talking here!”
Talus looked over to the two men. The lizard was leaning as lightly as possible on the bars as to not break them, expectantly waiting for Talus to let him get a look at the map. The shark was still drinking some water from the canister.
“Say, lizard,” Talus started, as a thought suddenly came to his mind.
“Mister DeVita to you, and whadd’ya want?”
“I…” he carefully considered his request, again and again. Up until now, his life was just an endless stream of happenings to him. He wanted a lazy life without a worry. And now, after several years of torture and pain brought to him by his own foolishness, he can finally take back what was taken from him. “I, have a proposition.”
…
Onyx sat at the edge of the large sandy hill, watching from afar with a pair of binoculars. The ones he had were equipped with night vision, but he turned it off, because the city was bright enough already. From fire to that giant golden machine, he would probably go blind using them. Ramus returned to sit near him again, leaving Pot to play with the “snake” by himself again.
“Anything?” Ramus asked.
Onyx took a swig from his energy drink. After giving a spit, he finally put down the binoculars.
“She’s out. All clear,” he said triumphantly.
“Onyx, I want you to tell me, just out of curiousity,” spoke Ram. “What does this invention do, that one that they want?”
“My friend, you know it’s never about the machine!” Onyx said. He stood up and waved the golden sheet to Pot. “Your turn now, buddy!”
“Duuuuuuuuude!” Pot exclaimed in happiness, before shoving the “snake” face-first into the sand. Ramus did not like the idea of leaving it like that.
Onyx pulled the ram’s backpack.
“Let’s bring them in, now.”
“I…really don’t like this idea,” Ramus noted hesitantly.
“It’s foolproof, man. C’mon, don’t get nervous now,” Onyx replied, pulling out an oversized cage from within the insides of his friend’s bag. There were many noises scattering the cage, and many, many, many fangs and claws that ran within it. Ramus gave one last disapproving shake. Onyx waved the golden sheet over it, before saying, “Let the final part of the plan…begin.”
…
So, I'm going on a vacation soon, but that might mean I'll be out for a while.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Here's something I've been working on while I'll be away. Expect the next FW chapter to come in a bit late.
Enjoy your day!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…
“And so, minutes later, now we are here. I think you got the rest,” DeVita finished. He of course omitted the second time they were given that offer, which he accidentally mistook for a threat and ended up nearly killing themselves on the spot.
“Woooow,” the bird squawked sarcastically. “You two are pretty much losers, huh?”
“Excuse me, Mister Fatass how about you..!” the bird turned his head away before he could finish. DeVita hissed, but frustration made him leave the topic. As his eyes glazed over the corridor, noticing each ornate emblem on the wall, something up and popped in his mind. It was innocuous, and yet noticeable. “Is it me, or does the castle looks different inside and outside?”
The bird raised his head slightly, watching from the corner of his eye.
DeVita continued, “I mean, if you got goin’ to spend, why not spend it on, I dunno, making it all uniform? Huh? Why make it so confused, so double-faced?”
“That’s because the outside was a recent addition.”
“…Oh?” DeVita asked inquisitively.
“Yeah, it wasn’t like that, before.”
DeVita’s scaly eyebrow was raised and he stroke his flat chin. This was definitely an interesting find. Of course, whether it means anything is up in the air, but it was still a find.
“So, what are you go to do now?” The bird prodded him out of his train of thoughts. “Figure out how to get out of this place?”
“Get out…of this?” DeVita chuckled, tapping the rusty bars with his fingers. “These dinkie spoons we’ll destroy in seconds, ain’t that right, Schwartz?”
Schwartz’s nose was entering a bucket found in a corner.
“That’s pee, don’t drink it.”
“Aww, but’ I’m thirsdy.”
DeVita sighed and began itching his cheek. He lamented the situation, a lot, and unless he could come up with a good escape plan, they might deal with an insane man who holds power. And true to his experience, they all are awful to be around with. He took his knife out again to suck on it.
“And what will you do after that?” the birdman asked.
As DeVita felt his stress lower away, he turned to birdman.
“We’ll rob the whatever the immortal thing he has and get the rewards. I mean, that’s what we set out to do. Say, have you seen-”
“I see,” the bird cut him off and went back to sleep.
Before DeVita could kindly ask “The hell!?” to him, the loud sound of snoring and whistling started emanating from that neighbouring cell. DeVita was now left to his thoughts.
…
It was the dead of night at the Devil’s Bowl. Nothing alive would go out, mainly because it was form of unspoken agreement that all must sleep during that time. Because if you aren’t, you’re either a monster or looking to die. Mercenaries tended to be the ones to break that rule readily, and those who continued working are the ones who survived. Pretty straightforward, it is.
The terrain is among many of the reasons why the Devil’s Bowl is so unpassable. It is sandy, so of course it is coarse, brittle, and gets in everywhere, among other things. It was almost impossible to traverse it, without using specially tamed animals that had to be bought from secular tribes, as well as scheduling trips to certain points of the year. As such, most of the land behind Garbage Area was never explored fully.
That is until several years ago, a brilliant inventor created a special type of engine from metallic alloy, one never seen before. This helped with creating some of the most sophisticated and well-kept vehicles that could cross through the dessert plains with ease. The inventor became famous, enough to be hired by the nobles themselves. And while vehicles were something he helped with creating, so were other, unusual type of technology that has become the defining feature within the richer elite. However, one day, that inventor disappeared, and with him many of his blueprints for even more fantastical technologies disappeared. Where they are now, is sadly still a mystery.
“Try to keep up!”
The Art-Onyx glided off the top of the dune with his hoverboard. A large, wheel-less device that he could flip around like it is made of carboard and never have to worry it being jammed by sand. Behind him, the rest of the members of his gang followed on their own modes of transportation. Dart was beautifully precise with her roller skating, doing a triple spin jump on her way down. Ramus just burst through the dune clunkily yet holding on tight to his dessert bike, whose fat tires trampled the ground indiscriminately. Pot was last, the weasel drawing circumference around what’s left of the sandy hill on his unicycle, his mouth chewing on a device. He didn’t seem to be eager to join the gang yet, which no one minded. Onyx himself figured that he was just having fun.
“Alright, then!” Onyx announced, as he jumped off of the board, “I think I see the town now!” He stomped one of its ends to turn it off and flip it into his hands. He crouched down, until he was right at the edge of the hill, where he could get a clear view of city. Dart stood next to him on the right, while Ramus took perch on his left shoulder.
It all was happening at night, at the moment, though the way the city shined probably didn’t make much of a different. Thanks to a bunch of campfires scattered by the bandits done to celebrate their depravity and the giant golden machine near the main castle, that place just begged to be found by a vagabond. Hedonism was a celebrated element of banditry, such things as partying at night was a usual occurrence. Particularly, if the place in question was considered their haven, which likely meant they either did not care that someone might sneak in. Mostly because they were probably armed to the teeth with weapons that discourage anyone from giving their place a second glance.
Onyx began to rummage through his backpack, getting out a pair of binoculars.
“Mehhh,” Ramus grunted, patting sand off of his pants. “Was there exactly a reason why you had those two get captured?”
“Yeah, yeah there were,” Onyx said, watching the town from afar. “Can you get the map?”
Ramus shook his head, but reached into his backpack regardless. After a minute, he pulled a folded sheet of paper, whose size was enough to act as a picnic blanket when laid down. He neatly placed it right next to the hawk, who, after finally noticing it, crinkled the whole thing up just to take a look at one part of the paper.
“Alright then,” Ramus said, sighing. “By the way, can I mention how I loathe your tendency towards risky stunts?”
“Let’s take a look at this baby…” said Onyx, ignoring him. The map had very detailed information for the whole city, and not simply just outside roads. Each building was given a thorough interior blueprint, with Onyx particularly paying attention to the inners of the main castle. He pointed with his finger to the passage next to the prison hall. “If I am guessing correctly, that’s where they are storing our treasure. Which includes, the two stars of our show.”
“They are probably armed with those…things,” noted Ramus. Onyx nodded in agreement.
“Therefore, everything must be done with purpose. Get in, get them out, get yourself in, then get yourself out. Got it, Dart?”
The masked member of their group did not reply verbally, only giving a thumbs up from behind.
“But how do we know they aren’t dead?” Ramus interjected. “You do know, they are just as likely to be dead? They probably killed themselves dealing with a maniac?”
“Nah.” Onyx folded the map back and handed it to Dart. “I followed them quite a bit. They just don’t seem to want to die!” He laughed. “Kinda great isn’t it? Besides, that ‘maniac’ has something more to him than meets the eye.”
Ramus’s brow was raised at the smile Onyx gave to him, but both stopped at the sound of something being dug. All three looked at Pot, whose upper body was now deep inside the sandy dune. None of them dared to ask what he was doing.
Ramus continued,
“It’s still a risky plan.”
“Look, relax,” Onyx brushed him off, while unpacking his own bag. He pulled out a golden sheet and with it, his midnight snack, made up of protein bar and energy drink. Everything was sold in vending machines only found at their guild: “convenience made EXEMPLARY!”
“And what happens if we are found out? Or worse, we’ll have to fight them ourselves?” Ramus kept badgering their leader, but the latter just took a bite from his granola bar, before putting it down on the sheet.
“You’re overthinking again. I told you, those two will do everything for us.”
Before Ramus could add one last point in, and wave of sand fell on them from the side. The trio met the sight of Pot, with his arm outstretched holding and wiggling a piece of cloth.
“Heeeeeey, duuuuuuuudes! Cheeeck this out,” Pot reached for the cloth and lifted one part of it to show a rat-like face underneath. It hissed when each of them took a look at him. “I think weee got a snake heeeere.”
Onyx stood up to and got closer to the rat. He noticed that it had slit-eyes and tail of a lizard as well. It was a “snake”, and more than likely, a spy for the bandits.
“Excellent, man! Dart was right, someone WAS tailing us!” Onyx elbowed Ramus.
“To be fair, it would be worrisome if she didn’t manage to spot him.”
Pot brought it over to the others, allowing a closer look to the shaking little creature.
“Alright, I think we’re more than ready.” Onyx shown hand signal to Dart, who nodded in response. He moved to Ram, who, unenthusiastically, reached into his backpack and pulled a yarn ball. “Let’s get things going,” the hawk said, and gave the last gift to Dart.
One thing that can be said about bandits, was that they tended to be a jubilant lot. You didn’t follow any rules, you didn’t care for any future, all you had was the present. It was a life of constant danger, impossible odds and wild celebrations. Unlike scavengers, being a bandit meant complete freedom. Of course, they still allow for some type of intermingling activities, like for example, building a quick shop to sell their wares, or make a campfire for celebrations. Sometimes they do both in one, and generally walk away with few dead bodies, which is why sellers tend to disappear just as quickly as they appear.
Dart counted the eighth time she heard someone shoot, and seventh time someone say, “Aww shit, he’s dead.” They missed once, by the way. They were at least five different campfires standing in the way of Dart and the main castle. And while no one was sober enough to be a threat on their own, even being seen once could spell trouble. Bandits tended to make a lot of noise, even if they were to die. There were also little to no lookouts between them. Then again, even when sober, bandits rarely try to be look-outs. Reasons varied: too expensive, bandits are already vigilant making it pointless, or you simply could not trust another bandit with looking after loot. If you would kill for a loot, why wouldn’t someone else? Anyways, that job was always passed to paid “snakes,” whom they caught earlier.
Dart planned out her route through the town, her memory of the map clear. The town was made of mostly buildings, and would condense the closer it was to the castle. All the while, the bandits ran about without care in the world. And so, to get there required elegance. And Dart knew that the key to her successes was always the elegance. To roll through the streets, doing as minimal noise and movement that was possible. A push forward, a dash to the side, a turn that leads to a spin, slide into one’s shadow, slip below two locked arms of drunkards, hop above a corpse on the street, sneak right behind a barrel…Then suddenly, there appeared a conga line. One of those music boxes played on top of the building, which buzzed and crackled like a person who smoked three times a day, and the melody could only be faintly heard. And yet they ignored it, by cracking the volume on high and singing the tune themselves. It worked for them well enough.
Dart scanned the area again. Drunk people were easy to evade, but there was always a possibility of someone not that drunk nearby. And of course, she came across a few, with one in particular sitting atop a tall barrel. Dart pressed a button behind her helmet, removing her visor. Something in that barrel stood out to her. Though she would prefer not to use it lightly, this gave her an idea.
The man, after giving one last hurrah into the air, took swig of alcohol that was in his jug. And then, as if timed, everything below him exploded. Wood splinters and metallic bits flew into the air, followed by endless amount of golden coins, covering the whole ground.
“What the hell!?” the man shouted, only to be drowned by the sudden assault of greedy colleagues.
“FREE TREASURE!!!” they yelled, despite the man’s plea, who claimed that the treasure was his. This was as pointless as pleading a hungry shark to not eat them, even though they just slathered themselves with BBQ sauce.
Dart passed them as quickly as lightning, unseen by the bandits. In due time, she reached the bottom of the castle’s stairs. Surely enough, it was defended by guards from the front. Dart swiftly moved her body from one object to the next, making sure that the guards couldn’t see her. Those two were bandits as well, but armed with long-range weaponry. These two either did not like to party, or just couldn’t get drunk, she figured, as their reason why they were still in their posts.
She kept moving, giving a good look at the outside of the castle. As Ramus claimed, they were built to be impenetrable, but also easily escapable. She searched for the secret openings, which included a secret hatch around the back of the castle. She continued to bob and weave between different shadows made by the objects around her, exactly as to how she practiced beforehand.
Though as she moved, she noticed few oddities of the place. Commonly, a wall would surround the building, dividing itself from the rest of the town. It was a common courtesy to show oneself as more important enough to be defended when you were a noble. However, it seems to have been taken down, and very cleanly too. She saw the foundation remains circling the building, with not even one pebble around it. Another oddity was the building’s top. The color was very white, which in comparison to bright red coloring of the building, brighter than the darkness of the night, gave a play of two opposing, if complementary colors. That said, it had now sported a giant golden hat on it, which did not add to the color scheme of the place. Its emblems, also, were one and the same, but if silvery steel color was used for the ones scattered below at few chosen places, a huge golden one that stuck like a star ornament at its crown was probably too extravagant. This piqued Dart’s interest like no other.
She calmed down, though, once she reached the golden dome machinery. Alongside it, she noticed two very peculiar figures, one of whom she recognized immediately. Carefully, she hid herself behind a house, several feet away the two. By the bottom of the machine, the noble was digging through one of the barrels, under the snakey-eye of his right-hand bandit.
“More gold…more guns…more thiggamajigs…more…more…” was being chanted by Darrold. The noble was seemingly in a trance, same one seen when a thirsty man starts shoveling the sand away to find a water-passage. These people can be quite scary.
Dart adjusted the knob at the side of her visor, magnifying until she could see more of the barrel. To her surprise, and interest, the barrel contained none of the objects he listed. But there was a large amount of gravel and sand. Enough that his usually primly white gloves turned light shade of beige, which he could’ve easily noticed thanks to the shine that came everywhere. And also, if he wasn’t being manic.
“I just need more,” was Darrold’s repeated phrase. He gave a chuckle, gathering the sand and rocks between his two palms, and then let it trickle while raising it all into the air. “And after that, we can take over the house of Gluttoria. I can be the king. No more of hateful stares or jeering…just me, at my rightful place. Can you imagine? Thrown away, only to become the ruler of a noble house! Oh…oh…more…”
The Snake-Eyed coughed a bit. Both of his eyes were constantly shifting to somewhere else, not particularly interested in the conversation.
“Tell me, Snake-Eyed,” Darrold said, carrying a clump of said sand and rock. “Tell me…how much more do we need?”
Snake-Eyed peeked at the clump, before taking a whiff of the air. “Boss, if I may be permitted, there’s way more to the invasion than just a bunch of people gathered to-“
“Do you, or do you NOT want to take them down?” The noble was gritting through his teeth. “Do you NOT want to make them pay, for abusing you? For killing your friends?”
Snake-Eyed coughed, opting to simply leave it unanswered. A professional way to keep yourself from saying something wrong.
“Do you want treasure…or not?” Darrold whispered this last line.
Snake-Eyed looked up in the air, and after finally sighing it out, blurted it out as, “Boss, what’s it to ya, really? I am just saying, that, maybe, before anything, you should focus on building your own empire? You got the resources, Boss, you got an army… made of thousands of idiots. They are not loyal, sure, but they are easily bought, and the rest can be given some crystals to sniff. Why not just do that? Why not-”
“Because, I WANT TO!!!”
Snake-Eyed pursed his mouth shut. It was always difficult to deal with an employer who’ll snap if you try to reason with them, who doesn’t want to listen to anything but their voice being echoed back. He probably considered leaving it after tonight, and let it all blow up. A smart bandit would do that.
“Look at me,” Darrold said, vying for bandit’s attention as he reached into his breast pocket. From it he pulled a small spoon, whose silvery head was worn on a golden, intricately designed handle. On the back of it was vividly inscribed “Darrold” ending with an attached picture of a young boy. “This…this small thing, is the sign of my destiny! The truth behind my own past! Searching through Gluttoria’s treasury, I found this small, insignificant little thing, and then I knew the truth. And the truth is that I was never some lowlife street urchin. I…am a destined member of a noble house! I do not deserve to be thrown out, spat at on some random corner littered with piss by some dirty, unwashed thugs. I…should be worshipped! Loved by all! Have all of my whims cared! I’ve waited for this chance for far too long, and once those self-important morons come over to visit this town, I will not lose the chance to make them pay!”
Snake-Eyed sighed, “Sir, they are not coming here themselves, they are sending some…” The bandit took a closer look at the spoon. “Sir, this spoon, are you sure it’s not fa-“
‘No more!” the golden-maned man roared. “Now go do what you’re supposed to do!”
The noble pushed the bandit away and headed straight to his machine. Snake-Eyed grabbed the paper left on top of the barrel, shaking his head this whole entire time. A bandit doesn’t question orders, if it pays well.
Dart watched him closely for the next few seconds. Snake-Eyed walked around the machine, keeping precisely five feet away from its circumference, swinging himself towards one of four small houses. They neatly lied in a row behind the castle, each wearing a color of uniform dirty brown. They looked unsuspicious to a common eye, as if were for common servants who live by eating scraps and all the other garbage that nobles would graciously throw behind their backs. And yet, something about them flared Dart’s curiosity. She knew exactly what they were, something far more to what she was looking for.
She dashed her next to fifteen shadows, then after finally getting that smallest distance that she could, headed straight to the machine. It’s huge, shining body would’ve revealed her position immediately, even with that barrel which Darold rummaged through hiding her lithe figure. She didn’t want to waste time, so her focus lied squarely on the bandit. He was reaching the third house, which she quickly discerned to be very different compared to others. Unlike the rest of the set, its door was not facing the castle, but instead away, which Snake-Eyed showed once he started to knock on it. It was seven times, she counted. After waiting a moment, he knocked seven more times at that door. Afterwards, he moved away from the door, and looked through the window. A single one that it had. It was quite small one, too, which Dart categorized noted after positioning behind the second of the four houses. She was now behind Snake-Eyed’s back, who was too busy with shouting and banging the glass. The other houses, also, had two windows instead of one. Their bodies were additionally very square in appearance, whereas that one was more oblong in comparison.
It appeared to have finally worked for the Snake-Eyed, once he left the window and return to stand in front of the door. The entrance was opened by a man with the most luxurious and thickest set of eyebrows that would make an owl blush. But, being on a sphinx cat, it just added to his drunken looking appearance.
Snake-Eyed shoved the paper to latter’s hands and said, “Take it to him. Say should be done by tomorrow. Quickly. And stop drinking.”
The cat’s eyebrows showed glorious amount of dispassion over the words being said to him.
“Ye pry it from me knocked out-cold hands after I dun drinkin’! ‘Mister No Fun’ my ASSHOLE!” The cat took another swig. “Why always from hear? Why not make another door, in front...”
“Because he is going to get rid of that door later. That’s what he said. He also, thinks, we should get rid of all the other houses and use them to make the main castle taller.” The Snake-Eyed scowled at himself after saying that. Someone as prideful as him just couldn’t swallow having to say something so idiotic. But, thus was the work of those who follow “A client’s word is the law” creed.
The cat sighed through a hiccup, which made him forget what he was going say next. Clearing his throat, he decided to let it be and went back-in to his house. The Snake-Eyed turned to leave, following the direction opposite of the main building. The moonlight was shining rather beautifully tonight, enough to enrapture his reptilian eye. Something whooshed past the back of his head, which made him pause for a bit. He resumed his walk not long after, following the way of the moonlight, and beyond, until he left the city completely.
It was a good thing that bandits also followed another creed, “Never follow the law.”
…
“I can’th feel muh fashe,” Schwartz moaned through the dirt of the sand of the cell. He was lying down, with his nose pointing to the ground.
“Ah quit complaining! We gonna think a way outta here!” retorted DeVita, his nose on the ground too.
The bird-man peeked at them. “You two appear to be stuck,” he noted.
“No shit!” DeVita sprung from the ground and immediately went back to his frantic pacing.
It was about time that he needed to accept that he didn’t have an escape plan. And if he were to get out, it would be down to luck, the most horrible of all variables. Mainly, because he never believed in his own. For example, they got caught, couldn’t talk out of being imprisoned, and had no clue about the layout, how many guards there were, nor their positioning. The only thing he knew were the guns, and he knew them really, really well. They say these things turn a person into a meat mush with just one shot, in the most literal manner possible. Oh why, oh why did he had to spend money on knife sharpening workshop, instead of escape room one? They didn’t even offer good blades! And wouldn’t refund on top of that!!!
“Gotta keep my head straight,” DeVita rambled, “C’mon, think, how many times we turned? There was an elevator, and then a click, and then…Gah!” DeVita scratched his scales violently. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time he got captured in some sort of impossible maze before. But those guns…they seemingly are jamming any sense of reason he was left with. It just wasn’t right.
“I want to drink,” pleaded Schwartz from below.
“Not now buddy,” DeVita said and went back to more pacing. He needed to clear his head. They couldn’t make a wrong move anymore. He needed to calm down and focus. Everything will kill them as soon as they leave the door. It was all about proper procedures. Their life depended on making careful decisions. No more distractions.
Then Schwartz made an odd gurgling sound.
“Hey, what’s matter?” DeVita checked on him, but the big blob of a shark kept making odd wheezing noises into the ground.
The lizard-man’s usually with dirty yellow-green scales suddenly turned white. He lunged at the shark with enough force to cause the heavyweight body to halfway roll-over, enough to see the face of his buddy. And from what he saw, the skin cracked, while the eyes were turning glassy.
“Oh fuck! Give me a sec buddy!”
DeVita quickly got to his feet, and without delay, dashed to get the bucket. It was the most disgusting option, but he had no choice. Then on his second stop, something metallic got knocked over. Not a lot of liquid spilled from it, to be fair.
“Are you fucking-!”
He picked it up, and saw that it still had just a little bit of urine left, just a drop. It was also mushed together with some soft excrements. Whether or it could help him, it will definitely kill him first. Feeling like retching from it, DeVita in bout of disgust and panic, through the bucket to the side, smearing the content on the wall. He began trying to search through his friend’s pockets, on the small glimmer of hope that the big guy forgot a bottle somewhere in all that lard.
Schwartz made another sound, a mix of gurgling twisting into low whistling.
“What is going on there!?” The bird-man shouted.
“You have a bucket!!?” DeVita screamed back, going for the second round of checking.
The bird-man took few seconds to ask, “Why?”
“I need your pee!!!”
There was a pause, the bird clearly couldn’t recognize the situation. DeVita, despite his defiance, came to a terrifying realization that there was no water source on his friend. He will die here, of all places.
“Why do you need water?” the bird-man continued asking.
“Goddamit, I need some fucking liquid or he dies, now hand that over!”
“…I don’t pee.”
“WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU DON’T PEE!!?”
Another whistle came out. It was long, very long, drawn out to feel some noise in what appeared to be a moment of silence. And yet, it began to grow softer and softer.
“Oh Buddy, oh pal…oh fuck!”
Those eyes had cracked too. As if made of balloon, the shark’s body had started to deflate.
“I need…I need…Maybe blood.” DeVita search for the knife, realizing he dropped it in his fit of panic. “Goddammit, he’s gonna have a fit! FUCKING-!”
“Hey!”
“CAN YOU GODFUCKINGSHUTYOURWHOREFUCKING-“
DeVita saw something reflective roll his way, clearly filled with liquid. Unmistakably, it was a water container. He lunged through the bars, stretching his arm and fingers to touch it and pull it in. Once within his hands, he jumped with it back the shark, and destroyed the container’s cap.
“C’mere, open your mouth!” he exclaimed and poured everything precisely into the maw of his friend.
Soon enough, he could hear him give a moan. The water was being absorbed instantaneously, disappearing right even before it touched the skin. Speaking off, his outer layer started to show less cracks than before, and even his eyes lost that glassy look. Sighing in relief, DeVita sat down, next to his moaning friend. The big guy smacked his lips and looked at DeVita as if to ask for more, even though he probably already drank about five liters from that one container alone.
“It’s empty,” DeVita informed him. He then turned to his back, and yelled, “Hey you got another one?! Hey!”
Moving closer to make sure he heard him, DeVita furrowed his brows when he heard some strange gagging coming from there. Coming even closer, DeVita’s eyes popped out from a pretty weird sight. The bird had a container sticking from his mouth, which he held in his hands. Moment later, DeVita realize he was pulling it out, and as soon as he was done, the bird violently coughed and spat some bits of blood.
He looked back at DeVita, and said, “You may thank me later.” Then he threw the cylindrical container their way, landing about half the distance.
“…The fuck?”
DeVita’s eyes were locked on the previously vomited object. The birdman slowly repositioned to face away, though only managed the top half of his body.
“Hey, hey, no falling asleep, wait!” DeVita got back up and banged the bars. He kept on yelling, “I’m talking to you! How the hell did you do that?! HEY!!!”
The birdman would not turn around.
“I said-!” DeVita stopped when he heard Schwartz gurgle. Scowling, he dropped back down and with an effort, managed to reach the container with his arm.
Just like last time, he sprayed the water all over his buddy’s face. The latter, now looking rejuvinated, delightfully soaked himself with the transparent liquid goodness.
“Aaaah…” Schwartz awed. Like an overgrown baby, he grabbed the container like a bottle, and sucked away all of the water from it with one big inhale. After he finished, he let go of it, and looked at DeVita with big, puppy-dog eyes. “Can I have another?”
“God, you’re thirsty…”
DeVita went back to the jail bars and peeked through them.
“Hey, you got another bottle?”
The bird-man, as far as he appeared, just lied still and looked away.
“Hey, I said-“
“Is that everything you need?” he finally answered, barely raising his head from the floor.
“Pretty much,” DeVita answered, not even bothering to think on it. “Now vomit me another one, and make sure to toss at least three-quarters to me.”
The bird-man raised his head to view his neighbour.
“Isn’t that the reason you’re here?” he asked. “To get this from me?”
DeVita furrowed his eyebrows. It was as if he was asked why the chicken tasted funny after you choked it in powdered pepper and spice. Poor, poor Missus Cluck.
“Do you know who I am!?”
DeVita scratched his chin. “I could, if you give me your name.”
The bird had his eyes fixated on him. Then he said slowly, “Talun-Tas.”
“Hey there, Talun,” the latter answered. “DeVita.”
The bird took a moment, as if waiting for something. As nothing happened, sighing in a weird combination of exasperation and relief, he proceeded to casually retch another container with water. DeVita had no clue if this was disturbing or just disgusting.
“Here, this one should be bigger,” he said in between sputtered coughs, and threw it. It lands about two-fifths the way.
“Did your grandma teach to throw like that?” DeVita complained. “Cause, swear on my life, she’ll be disappointed to know you threw worse than her.”
“I got you the water, be happy about that,” Talun-Tas retorted, and returned to sleep. That is to say, he turned his upper half away again, and when DeVita tried to call him again, he started very loudly and very deliberately snore.
“Holy shit, thank you for that, oh fatass almighty!” DeVita yelled. “Now that you got your thanks, how about you stop pretending, spit out another and THIS TIME actually THROW it to ME!”
Talun-Tas did not answer at all.
“Throw another again, or I’ll break through these bars and cave your head in!!!”
Talun ceased snoring, exhaled and then turned his head.
“If you can break it, why not just do it to get the container?”
DeVita wouldn’t answer at first. He simply got himself in that ready stance, with finger up and his mouth open, but nothing seemed to be coming out of him.
Until he stumbled on something.
“Since when can you make stuff come out of you?” he asked. The bird looked at him impassively.
“Don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Buddy, there’s no ‘I dunno’ shit here, cut it out,” DeVita snapped. “What’s the big idea? You can magic up item out of your stomach? That’s why it’s so swollen? Don’t tell me, you ate everything, and turned yourself into a walking storage bag that can puke whatever he needs whenever he needs it?”
Talun, apparently, didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he tried to roll his body away. After failing and giving up, for a solid minute, he just sighed and chewed air in his beak.
“I wasn’t the one who stuffed myself, just to be clear,” he mentioned.
“That so?”
“Yes, very much so.” Talun the propped himself up. It was just as excruciatingly embarrassing to watch as his attempts to turn. “Tell me, what would you do if you became immortal, first thing first?”
“Wha..?” DeVita noticed the genuine look of Talun-Tas at that moment. He took this moment to collect his thoughts, regarded the idea with thorough and fair examination, giving it time to sit in him.
And then, he finally said, “Um…Geez, I guess I…Oh man, I could try to get myself some hidden treasures for free, maybe.”
Talun’s expression dropped the genuine element.
“One of those from…That Barry the Executioner!” DeVita continued. “The guy I owe money to, but he also owes me, so what I do is let him kill me, then I kill him, since I can’t be killed!” He dusted off his hands. “BAM! After that…I guess, I dunno, try to go to the Abyss. But then, I’d probably get eaten there first. Which sounds like pain in the ass. It’ll probably try to digest me too. Actually, if I can’t die, maybe digesting wouldn’t work. I’ll probably be stuck inside that thing for a while. Damn, that would suck then…”
DeVita scratched his head again. When you live everyday with a sense that you might die, the idea of what happens if you hadn’t just seemed like an alien concept. He sat down on the floor and tapped the side of his face. What an odd thought to be dwelling on.
“I dunno!” he finally responded. “What IS immortality useful for? Coming back from stab wounds? Like my grandma says, you learn from mistakes, and if you can’t die, there’s no learning then, right? And I learn a lot. I mean, I learned a lot. I know a lot. Not that I got stabbed a lot…And dying ain’ that scary. I guess I’m saying…immortality is pointless.”
Talun-Tas’s expression were locked in place, directly pointing to DeVita. The latter shrugged after his whole speech, as if to imply he was done.
“This is…Exactly!”
DeVita watched Talun-Tas and nearly lost his jaw to the floor. The bird began shifting in place, until he finally managed to plant his knees, before shockingly enough, stand up.
“Imagine,” the bird continued, “of all the gifts of the god you could get, and its GODDAMN IMMORTALITY! What am I supposed to do with this?” Talun said, grabbing and showing off his misshapen body. “Get myself killed, over and over? Oh sure, I have infinite years to spend, I just get up, and then get myself killed again! I have all the time to do whatever I want, but everything keeps changing around me! And I can’t do anything about it! I’m not some genius with a plan, I am a sucker who got roped in, and now,” he slapped the gut, “I do this! Who the hell decided to give me immortality, huh?! Without getting me something more useful, like a genie or super-strength, or maybe an army! I can do an army! But nope, all I have become, is a giant weapons deposit! What a goddam gift of the gods, right!? THIS. IS. POINTLESS!!!”
DeVita did not say a word back. The only way he came up to respond was by slowly nodding his head while sitting, playing up an image of an attentive schoolboy. This meant that the only noise all three heard after the speech were the torches, steps from outside, and Talon, huffing and panting. The bird’s legs then slowly gave out and he dropped with his ass back on the floor.
“…You okay bud?” DeVita asked.
The bird huffed once more and finally made himself more comfortable. “Yes, you can say that,” he told him. DeVita just noticed how thin the bird’s legs were. For all this talk of his grossness, the guy had no muscle. They were just sticks carrying a stuffed meat bag.
“I dunno what is going on with you,” DeVita said, “but let me tell ya, that wallowing on the past ain’t gonna fix your issues, pal. You made a mistake once, or someone made a mistake using you. I say, big deal! You take what you have and take charge of it! I never cared what I am, and neither should you!”
The bird was gazing at the lizard for a long while. That long, thoughtful one, no different than DeVita’s own when he sees a shiny piece of whetted metal.
“You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, finally.
“All I know is that you got issues, and a nifty trick of puking up bottles of water,” DeVita said. His head turned backwards from the sound of his friend on the ground. “Speaking of, I still need that other one. Try tossing it better.”
“He…has a giant machine,” Talun explained, confusing DeVita, “which can take any material and change it into another material. Which can be anything. That machine happens to be magitek, too. As in, a machine that uses magic.”
DeVita’s face was barely changing. With enough time, Talun realized that he was just gawking at him.
Still, he continued, “Now, to make anything, what you need is a supply of materials. Just cause you can do anything, still doesn’t mean you can make thin air out of it. But, if you find some sort of constant, never-ending supply of material, you can be set for life. For example, what if you got an immortal person, who never dies from losing flesh, and gains it back the next day?”
DeVita slowly nodded his head. “Ok,” he said. “Why are you telling me this?”
The bird looked at him incredulously. There was some shuffling behind DeVita, as the giant fish began asking for more water.
“Just wait a second Schwartz, I’m talkin’ here.” He looked back at Talun again. “So, you mean you know an immortal, or what?”
Talun shook his head, his beak forming a crooked grin. “Are you that dumb?” he unhesitatingly asked.
DeVita jumped back to his feet. Maybe it was irritation speaking from being left in the dark, but he began shouting back at Talun, filling the empty air of the dungeon with obscenities. This included telling him to “Shut that fucking beak up” and “Learn to shit that weight out better”, among other things. Throughout this whole time, the bird grinned like an idiot, as if he found a hidden treasure.
…
Dart sneaked past Snake-Eyed without much of a fuss. Confrontations are usual, especially with bandits, who tend to care little about their own lives. But seeing him leave without looking back, she continued towards the door, and knocked on it seven times, exactly.
It was opened a few seconds later.
“I’m coming!” the cat announced as soon as he swung the door open. His body got caught in mid-fall forward, before steadying himself back up to look around proudly. With another sigh of dissatisfaction, he spun on his heels and re-entered the house again.
Inside, the first thing he did was to drink, the second time in a row he has done, after someone had him get out of the house. Burping out rather pitifully, he rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, before finally reaching for the doors of a wardrobe. He threw them to the sides, standing face to face against the large collection of cloaks, ponchos, hats, towels, robes, and a bucket on the corner.
He pushed them all aside, until the stone wall of the house could be easily seen. The wardrobe, apparently, had an open back. Furthermore, one could see that this piece of furniture was rather large for someone living in these tight quarters. The cat climbed into the wardrobe and pressed his hand to both sides of the wardrobe’s rear frame. Then, as if it was a piece of paper, he removed a huge square chunk of the stone wall. More accurately, it could be called folding paper, which he then neatly put away to the side. Afterwards, he stopped in front of the wardrobe and just stood there. He was taking a moment to contemplate, as most drunkards do. Sighing and swaying side to side, the cat plopped down on the wardrobe’s base, then leaned his head against the wall, and gave out a very depressing, very long burp.
“Why am I even here…?” he muttered.
As if he was about to think on his life some more, he eyes settled on the wine again. Not wanting to lose that lustrous feeling again, he stood up to get it again. But before he could grasp its neck, a metallic fist landed in his eye. He spent the rest of the night in blissful journey to the dreamlands.
Dart methodically shoved the body under the beds, before quickly heading to the hole within the wardrobe. A dark passageway, leading downwards with a set of stairs was in it. She rotated the knob on the side of her helmet, and then confidently made her way down the passage. It was after thirty steps that some light had finally began to illuminate her way, in the form of small candle lights, situated in deep grooves within the walls. It was at this time that she noticed how spacious the whole secret hallway has been. With her lithe body, she could fit in five more of herself. Even that huge blubberfish could manage to fit in here with ease.
After covering through twenty-five more steps, she could hear someone talking, finally. And rather loudly too, making it clear she was on the right track.
“Start using your brain!”
“Shut yer yap, you overstuffed turkey!!!”
“I’m dhirstheeeeeee!”
Dart quickly descended through the rest of the steps, until she landed on the smooth, hard floor. The room she was in was still spacious, now illuminated by single row of torchlights. Those three were still arguing, though now, they were doing it on the opposite side of the wall. Dart pressed a lever on the rear of her helmet and stared at the wall for a short minute. She led herself along the wall, and stopped only after finding that one, needed brick. She pushed it, and the wall in front of her hinged open.
She pulled from her pocket the yarn ball and unclipped the end of the strand. She lightly pulled on the bricks, only to put more effort when the hidden door revealed to be much heavier. Making the opening just slightly bigger, she slipped in, then looked for the prisoner in question. As chance would have it, he happened to be right in front of her. A red bird man, with distended stomach, wildly flailing his arms, but unable to get himself off the ground, thanks to his enormous torso. She aimed at the bar of the bird’s cell with the strand, after attaching a piece of paper on it. She threw it with a flick, and after it hit one bar of his cell with a satisfying “cling!”, she immediately retreated. The first part of the plan was finished.
Talus eyed the broken bar, which fell apart once something hit it. He peeked over at the door which usually was used by the messenger whenever they had some sort of order for him. However, all he saw was a slightly off wall, and a strand of yarn, which led all the way from it to the bar. Curious over this, he waddled on his knees towards it. This all happened while the lizard continued on his yelling, by the way.
“AND ANOTHER THING!” exclaimed DeVita, “IF YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY BELLYBUTTON AGAIN, I WILL whatcha got there?”
He pushed his nose in between the bars, eyeing the letter at the bird’s hands. He couldn’t see, but he could tell by the parchment quality, that it must have come from that “boss” himself. Schwarz tried to nosy in too, crawling in on all fours while asking what was going on, but DeVita pushed him back two fingers. As Talus reached the bottom of the page, his eyes grew as big and round as his belly.
“He wants me to go HOW BIG?!” Talus yelled in full volume. “Is he completely insane!!?”
“What? What’s wrong?” DeVita kept on asking. “Wanna share some stuff, buddy?”
Talus sat down and looked over the notes again, still in disbelief over the orders given. He was clutching at his own throat, already feeling the pain and suffering he will be going through, in order to make this huge monster. That madman has gone off of his rocker, and is simply looking to shoot fire into every direction possible. There were no more plans of building a new empire. All he cared for was to make the fire bigger. Talus kept rubbing his throat, and then looked at his belly. He needed to escape, even if he was physically incapable. He might survive this, but he won’t be “alive” anymore.
“Hey, I’m still talking here!”
Talus looked over to the two men. The lizard was leaning as lightly as possible on the bars as to not break them, expectantly waiting for Talus to let him get a look at the map. The shark was still drinking some water from the canister.
“Say, lizard,” Talus started, as a thought suddenly came to his mind.
“Mister DeVita to you, and whadd’ya want?”
“I…” he carefully considered his request, again and again. Up until now, his life was just an endless stream of happenings to him. He wanted a lazy life without a worry. And now, after several years of torture and pain brought to him by his own foolishness, he can finally take back what was taken from him. “I, have a proposition.”
…
Onyx sat at the edge of the large sandy hill, watching from afar with a pair of binoculars. The ones he had were equipped with night vision, but he turned it off, because the city was bright enough already. From fire to that giant golden machine, he would probably go blind using them. Ramus returned to sit near him again, leaving Pot to play with the “snake” by himself again.
“Anything?” Ramus asked.
Onyx took a swig from his energy drink. After giving a spit, he finally put down the binoculars.
“She’s out. All clear,” he said triumphantly.
“Onyx, I want you to tell me, just out of curiousity,” spoke Ram. “What does this invention do, that one that they want?”
“My friend, you know it’s never about the machine!” Onyx said. He stood up and waved the golden sheet to Pot. “Your turn now, buddy!”
“Duuuuuuuuude!” Pot exclaimed in happiness, before shoving the “snake” face-first into the sand. Ramus did not like the idea of leaving it like that.
Onyx pulled the ram’s backpack.
“Let’s bring them in, now.”
“I…really don’t like this idea,” Ramus noted hesitantly.
“It’s foolproof, man. C’mon, don’t get nervous now,” Onyx replied, pulling out an oversized cage from within the insides of his friend’s bag. There were many noises scattering the cage, and many, many, many fangs and claws that ran within it. Ramus gave one last disapproving shake. Onyx waved the golden sheet over it, before saying, “Let the final part of the plan…begin.”
…
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Here's something I've been working on while I'll be away. Expect the next FW chapter to come in a bit late.
Enjoy your day!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…
“And so, minutes later, now we are here. I think you got the rest,” DeVita finished. He of course omitted the second time they were given that offer, which he accidentally mistook for a threat and ended up nearly killing themselves on the spot.
“Woooow,” the bird squawked sarcastically. “You two are pretty much losers, huh?”
“Excuse me, Mister Fatass how about you..!” the bird turned his head away before he could finish. DeVita hissed, but frustration made him leave the topic. As his eyes glazed over the corridor, noticing each ornate emblem on the wall, something up and popped in his mind. It was innocuous, and yet noticeable. “Is it me, or does the castle looks different inside and outside?”
The bird raised his head slightly, watching from the corner of his eye.
DeVita continued, “I mean, if you got goin’ to spend, why not spend it on, I dunno, making it all uniform? Huh? Why make it so confused, so double-faced?”
“That’s because the outside was a recent addition.”
“…Oh?” DeVita asked inquisitively.
“Yeah, it wasn’t like that, before.”
DeVita’s scaly eyebrow was raised and he stroke his flat chin. This was definitely an interesting find. Of course, whether it means anything is up in the air, but it was still a find.
“So, what are you go to do now?” The bird prodded him out of his train of thoughts. “Figure out how to get out of this place?”
“Get out…of this?” DeVita chuckled, tapping the rusty bars with his fingers. “These dinkie spoons we’ll destroy in seconds, ain’t that right, Schwartz?”
Schwartz’s nose was entering a bucket found in a corner.
“That’s pee, don’t drink it.”
“Aww, but’ I’m thirsdy.”
DeVita sighed and began itching his cheek. He lamented the situation, a lot, and unless he could come up with a good escape plan, they might deal with an insane man who holds power. And true to his experience, they all are awful to be around with. He took his knife out again to suck on it.
“And what will you do after that?” the birdman asked.
As DeVita felt his stress lower away, he turned to birdman.
“We’ll rob the whatever the immortal thing he has and get the rewards. I mean, that’s what we set out to do. Say, have you seen-”
“I see,” the bird cut him off and went back to sleep.
Before DeVita could kindly ask “The hell!?” to him, the loud sound of snoring and whistling started emanating from that neighbouring cell. DeVita was now left to his thoughts.
…
It was the dead of night at the Devil’s Bowl. Nothing alive would go out, mainly because it was form of unspoken agreement that all must sleep during that time. Because if you aren’t, you’re either a monster or looking to die. Mercenaries tended to be the ones to break that rule readily, and those who continued working are the ones who survived. Pretty straightforward, it is.
The terrain is among many of the reasons why the Devil’s Bowl is so unpassable. It is sandy, so of course it is coarse, brittle, and gets in everywhere, among other things. It was almost impossible to traverse it, without using specially tamed animals that had to be bought from secular tribes, as well as scheduling trips to certain points of the year. As such, most of the land behind Garbage Area was never explored fully.
That is until several years ago, a brilliant inventor created a special type of engine from metallic alloy, one never seen before. This helped with creating some of the most sophisticated and well-kept vehicles that could cross through the dessert plains with ease. The inventor became famous, enough to be hired by the nobles themselves. And while vehicles were something he helped with creating, so were other, unusual type of technology that has become the defining feature within the richer elite. However, one day, that inventor disappeared, and with him many of his blueprints for even more fantastical technologies disappeared. Where they are now, is sadly still a mystery.
“Try to keep up!”
The Art-Onyx glided off the top of the dune with his hoverboard. A large, wheel-less device that he could flip around like it is made of carboard and never have to worry it being jammed by sand. Behind him, the rest of the members of his gang followed on their own modes of transportation. Dart was beautifully precise with her roller skating, doing a triple spin jump on her way down. Ramus just burst through the dune clunkily yet holding on tight to his dessert bike, whose fat tires trampled the ground indiscriminately. Pot was last, the weasel drawing circumference around what’s left of the sandy hill on his unicycle, his mouth chewing on a device. He didn’t seem to be eager to join the gang yet, which no one minded. Onyx himself figured that he was just having fun.
“Alright, then!” Onyx announced, as he jumped off of the board, “I think I see the town now!” He stomped one of its ends to turn it off and flip it into his hands. He crouched down, until he was right at the edge of the hill, where he could get a clear view of city. Dart stood next to him on the right, while Ramus took perch on his left shoulder.
It all was happening at night, at the moment, though the way the city shined probably didn’t make much of a different. Thanks to a bunch of campfires scattered by the bandits done to celebrate their depravity and the giant golden machine near the main castle, that place just begged to be found by a vagabond. Hedonism was a celebrated element of banditry, such things as partying at night was a usual occurrence. Particularly, if the place in question was considered their haven, which likely meant they either did not care that someone might sneak in. Mostly because they were probably armed to the teeth with weapons that discourage anyone from giving their place a second glance.
Onyx began to rummage through his backpack, getting out a pair of binoculars.
“Mehhh,” Ramus grunted, patting sand off of his pants. “Was there exactly a reason why you had those two get captured?”
“Yeah, yeah there were,” Onyx said, watching the town from afar. “Can you get the map?”
Ramus shook his head, but reached into his backpack regardless. After a minute, he pulled a folded sheet of paper, whose size was enough to act as a picnic blanket when laid down. He neatly placed it right next to the hawk, who, after finally noticing it, crinkled the whole thing up just to take a look at one part of the paper.
“Alright then,” Ramus said, sighing. “By the way, can I mention how I loathe your tendency towards risky stunts?”
“Let’s take a look at this baby…” said Onyx, ignoring him. The map had very detailed information for the whole city, and not simply just outside roads. Each building was given a thorough interior blueprint, with Onyx particularly paying attention to the inners of the main castle. He pointed with his finger to the passage next to the prison hall. “If I am guessing correctly, that’s where they are storing our treasure. Which includes, the two stars of our show.”
“They are probably armed with those…things,” noted Ramus. Onyx nodded in agreement.
“Therefore, everything must be done with purpose. Get in, get them out, get yourself in, then get yourself out. Got it, Dart?”
The masked member of their group did not reply verbally, only giving a thumbs up from behind.
“But how do we know they aren’t dead?” Ramus interjected. “You do know, they are just as likely to be dead? They probably killed themselves dealing with a maniac?”
“Nah.” Onyx folded the map back and handed it to Dart. “I followed them quite a bit. They just don’t seem to want to die!” He laughed. “Kinda great isn’t it? Besides, that ‘maniac’ has something more to him than meets the eye.”
Ramus’s brow was raised at the smile Onyx gave to him, but both stopped at the sound of something being dug. All three looked at Pot, whose upper body was now deep inside the sandy dune. None of them dared to ask what he was doing.
Ramus continued,
“It’s still a risky plan.”
“Look, relax,” Onyx brushed him off, while unpacking his own bag. He pulled out a golden sheet and with it, his midnight snack, made up of protein bar and energy drink. Everything was sold in vending machines only found at their guild: “convenience made EXEMPLARY!”
“And what happens if we are found out? Or worse, we’ll have to fight them ourselves?” Ramus kept badgering their leader, but the latter just took a bite from his granola bar, before putting it down on the sheet.
“You’re overthinking again. I told you, those two will do everything for us.”
Before Ramus could add one last point in, and wave of sand fell on them from the side. The trio met the sight of Pot, with his arm outstretched holding and wiggling a piece of cloth.
“Heeeeeey, duuuuuuuudes! Cheeeck this out,” Pot reached for the cloth and lifted one part of it to show a rat-like face underneath. It hissed when each of them took a look at him. “I think weee got a snake heeeere.”
Onyx stood up to and got closer to the rat. He noticed that it had slit-eyes and tail of a lizard as well. It was a “snake”, and more than likely, a spy for the bandits.
“Excellent, man! Dart was right, someone WAS tailing us!” Onyx elbowed Ramus.
“To be fair, it would be worrisome if she didn’t manage to spot him.”
Pot brought it over to the others, allowing a closer look to the shaking little creature.
“Alright, I think we’re more than ready.” Onyx shown hand signal to Dart, who nodded in response. He moved to Ram, who, unenthusiastically, reached into his backpack and pulled a yarn ball. “Let’s get things going,” the hawk said, and gave the last gift to Dart.
One thing that can be said about bandits, was that they tended to be a jubilant lot. You didn’t follow any rules, you didn’t care for any future, all you had was the present. It was a life of constant danger, impossible odds and wild celebrations. Unlike scavengers, being a bandit meant complete freedom. Of course, they still allow for some type of intermingling activities, like for example, building a quick shop to sell their wares, or make a campfire for celebrations. Sometimes they do both in one, and generally walk away with few dead bodies, which is why sellers tend to disappear just as quickly as they appear.
Dart counted the eighth time she heard someone shoot, and seventh time someone say, “Aww shit, he’s dead.” They missed once, by the way. They were at least five different campfires standing in the way of Dart and the main castle. And while no one was sober enough to be a threat on their own, even being seen once could spell trouble. Bandits tended to make a lot of noise, even if they were to die. There were also little to no lookouts between them. Then again, even when sober, bandits rarely try to be look-outs. Reasons varied: too expensive, bandits are already vigilant making it pointless, or you simply could not trust another bandit with looking after loot. If you would kill for a loot, why wouldn’t someone else? Anyways, that job was always passed to paid “snakes,” whom they caught earlier.
Dart planned out her route through the town, her memory of the map clear. The town was made of mostly buildings, and would condense the closer it was to the castle. All the while, the bandits ran about without care in the world. And so, to get there required elegance. And Dart knew that the key to her successes was always the elegance. To roll through the streets, doing as minimal noise and movement that was possible. A push forward, a dash to the side, a turn that leads to a spin, slide into one’s shadow, slip below two locked arms of drunkards, hop above a corpse on the street, sneak right behind a barrel…Then suddenly, there appeared a conga line. One of those music boxes played on top of the building, which buzzed and crackled like a person who smoked three times a day, and the melody could only be faintly heard. And yet they ignored it, by cracking the volume on high and singing the tune themselves. It worked for them well enough.
Dart scanned the area again. Drunk people were easy to evade, but there was always a possibility of someone not that drunk nearby. And of course, she came across a few, with one in particular sitting atop a tall barrel. Dart pressed a button behind her helmet, removing her visor. Something in that barrel stood out to her. Though she would prefer not to use it lightly, this gave her an idea.
The man, after giving one last hurrah into the air, took swig of alcohol that was in his jug. And then, as if timed, everything below him exploded. Wood splinters and metallic bits flew into the air, followed by endless amount of golden coins, covering the whole ground.
“What the hell!?” the man shouted, only to be drowned by the sudden assault of greedy colleagues.
“FREE TREASURE!!!” they yelled, despite the man’s plea, who claimed that the treasure was his. This was as pointless as pleading a hungry shark to not eat them, even though they just slathered themselves with BBQ sauce.
Dart passed them as quickly as lightning, unseen by the bandits. In due time, she reached the bottom of the castle’s stairs. Surely enough, it was defended by guards from the front. Dart swiftly moved her body from one object to the next, making sure that the guards couldn’t see her. Those two were bandits as well, but armed with long-range weaponry. These two either did not like to party, or just couldn’t get drunk, she figured, as their reason why they were still in their posts.
She kept moving, giving a good look at the outside of the castle. As Ramus claimed, they were built to be impenetrable, but also easily escapable. She searched for the secret openings, which included a secret hatch around the back of the castle. She continued to bob and weave between different shadows made by the objects around her, exactly as to how she practiced beforehand.
Though as she moved, she noticed few oddities of the place. Commonly, a wall would surround the building, dividing itself from the rest of the town. It was a common courtesy to show oneself as more important enough to be defended when you were a noble. However, it seems to have been taken down, and very cleanly too. She saw the foundation remains circling the building, with not even one pebble around it. Another oddity was the building’s top. The color was very white, which in comparison to bright red coloring of the building, brighter than the darkness of the night, gave a play of two opposing, if complementary colors. That said, it had now sported a giant golden hat on it, which did not add to the color scheme of the place. Its emblems, also, were one and the same, but if silvery steel color was used for the ones scattered below at few chosen places, a huge golden one that stuck like a star ornament at its crown was probably too extravagant. This piqued Dart’s interest like no other.
She calmed down, though, once she reached the golden dome machinery. Alongside it, she noticed two very peculiar figures, one of whom she recognized immediately. Carefully, she hid herself behind a house, several feet away the two. By the bottom of the machine, the noble was digging through one of the barrels, under the snakey-eye of his right-hand bandit.
“More gold…more guns…more thiggamajigs…more…more…” was being chanted by Darrold. The noble was seemingly in a trance, same one seen when a thirsty man starts shoveling the sand away to find a water-passage. These people can be quite scary.
Dart adjusted the knob at the side of her visor, magnifying until she could see more of the barrel. To her surprise, and interest, the barrel contained none of the objects he listed. But there was a large amount of gravel and sand. Enough that his usually primly white gloves turned light shade of beige, which he could’ve easily noticed thanks to the shine that came everywhere. And also, if he wasn’t being manic.
“I just need more,” was Darrold’s repeated phrase. He gave a chuckle, gathering the sand and rocks between his two palms, and then let it trickle while raising it all into the air. “And after that, we can take over the house of Gluttoria. I can be the king. No more of hateful stares or jeering…just me, at my rightful place. Can you imagine? Thrown away, only to become the ruler of a noble house! Oh…oh…more…”
The Snake-Eyed coughed a bit. Both of his eyes were constantly shifting to somewhere else, not particularly interested in the conversation.
“Tell me, Snake-Eyed,” Darrold said, carrying a clump of said sand and rock. “Tell me…how much more do we need?”
Snake-Eyed peeked at the clump, before taking a whiff of the air. “Boss, if I may be permitted, there’s way more to the invasion than just a bunch of people gathered to-“
“Do you, or do you NOT want to take them down?” The noble was gritting through his teeth. “Do you NOT want to make them pay, for abusing you? For killing your friends?”
Snake-Eyed coughed, opting to simply leave it unanswered. A professional way to keep yourself from saying something wrong.
“Do you want treasure…or not?” Darrold whispered this last line.
Snake-Eyed looked up in the air, and after finally sighing it out, blurted it out as, “Boss, what’s it to ya, really? I am just saying, that, maybe, before anything, you should focus on building your own empire? You got the resources, Boss, you got an army… made of thousands of idiots. They are not loyal, sure, but they are easily bought, and the rest can be given some crystals to sniff. Why not just do that? Why not-”
“Because, I WANT TO!!!”
Snake-Eyed pursed his mouth shut. It was always difficult to deal with an employer who’ll snap if you try to reason with them, who doesn’t want to listen to anything but their voice being echoed back. He probably considered leaving it after tonight, and let it all blow up. A smart bandit would do that.
“Look at me,” Darrold said, vying for bandit’s attention as he reached into his breast pocket. From it he pulled a small spoon, whose silvery head was worn on a golden, intricately designed handle. On the back of it was vividly inscribed “Darrold” ending with an attached picture of a young boy. “This…this small thing, is the sign of my destiny! The truth behind my own past! Searching through Gluttoria’s treasury, I found this small, insignificant little thing, and then I knew the truth. And the truth is that I was never some lowlife street urchin. I…am a destined member of a noble house! I do not deserve to be thrown out, spat at on some random corner littered with piss by some dirty, unwashed thugs. I…should be worshipped! Loved by all! Have all of my whims cared! I’ve waited for this chance for far too long, and once those self-important morons come over to visit this town, I will not lose the chance to make them pay!”
Snake-Eyed sighed, “Sir, they are not coming here themselves, they are sending some…” The bandit took a closer look at the spoon. “Sir, this spoon, are you sure it’s not fa-“
‘No more!” the golden-maned man roared. “Now go do what you’re supposed to do!”
The noble pushed the bandit away and headed straight to his machine. Snake-Eyed grabbed the paper left on top of the barrel, shaking his head this whole entire time. A bandit doesn’t question orders, if it pays well.
Dart watched him closely for the next few seconds. Snake-Eyed walked around the machine, keeping precisely five feet away from its circumference, swinging himself towards one of four small houses. They neatly lied in a row behind the castle, each wearing a color of uniform dirty brown. They looked unsuspicious to a common eye, as if were for common servants who live by eating scraps and all the other garbage that nobles would graciously throw behind their backs. And yet, something about them flared Dart’s curiosity. She knew exactly what they were, something far more to what she was looking for.
She dashed her next to fifteen shadows, then after finally getting that smallest distance that she could, headed straight to the machine. It’s huge, shining body would’ve revealed her position immediately, even with that barrel which Darold rummaged through hiding her lithe figure. She didn’t want to waste time, so her focus lied squarely on the bandit. He was reaching the third house, which she quickly discerned to be very different compared to others. Unlike the rest of the set, its door was not facing the castle, but instead away, which Snake-Eyed showed once he started to knock on it. It was seven times, she counted. After waiting a moment, he knocked seven more times at that door. Afterwards, he moved away from the door, and looked through the window. A single one that it had. It was quite small one, too, which Dart categorized noted after positioning behind the second of the four houses. She was now behind Snake-Eyed’s back, who was too busy with shouting and banging the glass. The other houses, also, had two windows instead of one. Their bodies were additionally very square in appearance, whereas that one was more oblong in comparison.
It appeared to have finally worked for the Snake-Eyed, once he left the window and return to stand in front of the door. The entrance was opened by a man with the most luxurious and thickest set of eyebrows that would make an owl blush. But, being on a sphinx cat, it just added to his drunken looking appearance.
Snake-Eyed shoved the paper to latter’s hands and said, “Take it to him. Say should be done by tomorrow. Quickly. And stop drinking.”
The cat’s eyebrows showed glorious amount of dispassion over the words being said to him.
“Ye pry it from me knocked out-cold hands after I dun drinkin’! ‘Mister No Fun’ my ASSHOLE!” The cat took another swig. “Why always from hear? Why not make another door, in front...”
“Because he is going to get rid of that door later. That’s what he said. He also, thinks, we should get rid of all the other houses and use them to make the main castle taller.” The Snake-Eyed scowled at himself after saying that. Someone as prideful as him just couldn’t swallow having to say something so idiotic. But, thus was the work of those who follow “A client’s word is the law” creed.
The cat sighed through a hiccup, which made him forget what he was going say next. Clearing his throat, he decided to let it be and went back-in to his house. The Snake-Eyed turned to leave, following the direction opposite of the main building. The moonlight was shining rather beautifully tonight, enough to enrapture his reptilian eye. Something whooshed past the back of his head, which made him pause for a bit. He resumed his walk not long after, following the way of the moonlight, and beyond, until he left the city completely.
It was a good thing that bandits also followed another creed, “Never follow the law.”
…
“I can’th feel muh fashe,” Schwartz moaned through the dirt of the sand of the cell. He was lying down, with his nose pointing to the ground.
“Ah quit complaining! We gonna think a way outta here!” retorted DeVita, his nose on the ground too.
The bird-man peeked at them. “You two appear to be stuck,” he noted.
“No shit!” DeVita sprung from the ground and immediately went back to his frantic pacing.
It was about time that he needed to accept that he didn’t have an escape plan. And if he were to get out, it would be down to luck, the most horrible of all variables. Mainly, because he never believed in his own. For example, they got caught, couldn’t talk out of being imprisoned, and had no clue about the layout, how many guards there were, nor their positioning. The only thing he knew were the guns, and he knew them really, really well. They say these things turn a person into a meat mush with just one shot, in the most literal manner possible. Oh why, oh why did he had to spend money on knife sharpening workshop, instead of escape room one? They didn’t even offer good blades! And wouldn’t refund on top of that!!!
“Gotta keep my head straight,” DeVita rambled, “C’mon, think, how many times we turned? There was an elevator, and then a click, and then…Gah!” DeVita scratched his scales violently. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time he got captured in some sort of impossible maze before. But those guns…they seemingly are jamming any sense of reason he was left with. It just wasn’t right.
“I want to drink,” pleaded Schwartz from below.
“Not now buddy,” DeVita said and went back to more pacing. He needed to clear his head. They couldn’t make a wrong move anymore. He needed to calm down and focus. Everything will kill them as soon as they leave the door. It was all about proper procedures. Their life depended on making careful decisions. No more distractions.
Then Schwartz made an odd gurgling sound.
“Hey, what’s matter?” DeVita checked on him, but the big blob of a shark kept making odd wheezing noises into the ground.
The lizard-man’s usually with dirty yellow-green scales suddenly turned white. He lunged at the shark with enough force to cause the heavyweight body to halfway roll-over, enough to see the face of his buddy. And from what he saw, the skin cracked, while the eyes were turning glassy.
“Oh fuck! Give me a sec buddy!”
DeVita quickly got to his feet, and without delay, dashed to get the bucket. It was the most disgusting option, but he had no choice. Then on his second stop, something metallic got knocked over. Not a lot of liquid spilled from it, to be fair.
“Are you fucking-!”
He picked it up, and saw that it still had just a little bit of urine left, just a drop. It was also mushed together with some soft excrements. Whether or it could help him, it will definitely kill him first. Feeling like retching from it, DeVita in bout of disgust and panic, through the bucket to the side, smearing the content on the wall. He began trying to search through his friend’s pockets, on the small glimmer of hope that the big guy forgot a bottle somewhere in all that lard.
Schwartz made another sound, a mix of gurgling twisting into low whistling.
“What is going on there!?” The bird-man shouted.
“You have a bucket!!?” DeVita screamed back, going for the second round of checking.
The bird-man took few seconds to ask, “Why?”
“I need your pee!!!”
There was a pause, the bird clearly couldn’t recognize the situation. DeVita, despite his defiance, came to a terrifying realization that there was no water source on his friend. He will die here, of all places.
“Why do you need water?” the bird-man continued asking.
“Goddamit, I need some fucking liquid or he dies, now hand that over!”
“…I don’t pee.”
“WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN YOU DON’T PEE!!?”
Another whistle came out. It was long, very long, drawn out to feel some noise in what appeared to be a moment of silence. And yet, it began to grow softer and softer.
“Oh Buddy, oh pal…oh fuck!”
Those eyes had cracked too. As if made of balloon, the shark’s body had started to deflate.
“I need…I need…Maybe blood.” DeVita search for the knife, realizing he dropped it in his fit of panic. “Goddammit, he’s gonna have a fit! FUCKING-!”
“Hey!”
“CAN YOU GODFUCKINGSHUTYOURWHOREFUCKING-“
DeVita saw something reflective roll his way, clearly filled with liquid. Unmistakably, it was a water container. He lunged through the bars, stretching his arm and fingers to touch it and pull it in. Once within his hands, he jumped with it back the shark, and destroyed the container’s cap.
“C’mere, open your mouth!” he exclaimed and poured everything precisely into the maw of his friend.
Soon enough, he could hear him give a moan. The water was being absorbed instantaneously, disappearing right even before it touched the skin. Speaking off, his outer layer started to show less cracks than before, and even his eyes lost that glassy look. Sighing in relief, DeVita sat down, next to his moaning friend. The big guy smacked his lips and looked at DeVita as if to ask for more, even though he probably already drank about five liters from that one container alone.
“It’s empty,” DeVita informed him. He then turned to his back, and yelled, “Hey you got another one?! Hey!”
Moving closer to make sure he heard him, DeVita furrowed his brows when he heard some strange gagging coming from there. Coming even closer, DeVita’s eyes popped out from a pretty weird sight. The bird had a container sticking from his mouth, which he held in his hands. Moment later, DeVita realize he was pulling it out, and as soon as he was done, the bird violently coughed and spat some bits of blood.
He looked back at DeVita, and said, “You may thank me later.” Then he threw the cylindrical container their way, landing about half the distance.
“…The fuck?”
DeVita’s eyes were locked on the previously vomited object. The birdman slowly repositioned to face away, though only managed the top half of his body.
“Hey, hey, no falling asleep, wait!” DeVita got back up and banged the bars. He kept on yelling, “I’m talking to you! How the hell did you do that?! HEY!!!”
The birdman would not turn around.
“I said-!” DeVita stopped when he heard Schwartz gurgle. Scowling, he dropped back down and with an effort, managed to reach the container with his arm.
Just like last time, he sprayed the water all over his buddy’s face. The latter, now looking rejuvinated, delightfully soaked himself with the transparent liquid goodness.
“Aaaah…” Schwartz awed. Like an overgrown baby, he grabbed the container like a bottle, and sucked away all of the water from it with one big inhale. After he finished, he let go of it, and looked at DeVita with big, puppy-dog eyes. “Can I have another?”
“God, you’re thirsty…”
DeVita went back to the jail bars and peeked through them.
“Hey, you got another bottle?”
The bird-man, as far as he appeared, just lied still and looked away.
“Hey, I said-“
“Is that everything you need?” he finally answered, barely raising his head from the floor.
“Pretty much,” DeVita answered, not even bothering to think on it. “Now vomit me another one, and make sure to toss at least three-quarters to me.”
The bird-man raised his head to view his neighbour.
“Isn’t that the reason you’re here?” he asked. “To get this from me?”
DeVita furrowed his eyebrows. It was as if he was asked why the chicken tasted funny after you choked it in powdered pepper and spice. Poor, poor Missus Cluck.
“Do you know who I am!?”
DeVita scratched his chin. “I could, if you give me your name.”
The bird had his eyes fixated on him. Then he said slowly, “Talun-Tas.”
“Hey there, Talun,” the latter answered. “DeVita.”
The bird took a moment, as if waiting for something. As nothing happened, sighing in a weird combination of exasperation and relief, he proceeded to casually retch another container with water. DeVita had no clue if this was disturbing or just disgusting.
“Here, this one should be bigger,” he said in between sputtered coughs, and threw it. It lands about two-fifths the way.
“Did your grandma teach to throw like that?” DeVita complained. “Cause, swear on my life, she’ll be disappointed to know you threw worse than her.”
“I got you the water, be happy about that,” Talun-Tas retorted, and returned to sleep. That is to say, he turned his upper half away again, and when DeVita tried to call him again, he started very loudly and very deliberately snore.
“Holy shit, thank you for that, oh fatass almighty!” DeVita yelled. “Now that you got your thanks, how about you stop pretending, spit out another and THIS TIME actually THROW it to ME!”
Talun-Tas did not answer at all.
“Throw another again, or I’ll break through these bars and cave your head in!!!”
Talun ceased snoring, exhaled and then turned his head.
“If you can break it, why not just do it to get the container?”
DeVita wouldn’t answer at first. He simply got himself in that ready stance, with finger up and his mouth open, but nothing seemed to be coming out of him.
Until he stumbled on something.
“Since when can you make stuff come out of you?” he asked. The bird looked at him impassively.
“Don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Buddy, there’s no ‘I dunno’ shit here, cut it out,” DeVita snapped. “What’s the big idea? You can magic up item out of your stomach? That’s why it’s so swollen? Don’t tell me, you ate everything, and turned yourself into a walking storage bag that can puke whatever he needs whenever he needs it?”
Talun, apparently, didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he tried to roll his body away. After failing and giving up, for a solid minute, he just sighed and chewed air in his beak.
“I wasn’t the one who stuffed myself, just to be clear,” he mentioned.
“That so?”
“Yes, very much so.” Talun the propped himself up. It was just as excruciatingly embarrassing to watch as his attempts to turn. “Tell me, what would you do if you became immortal, first thing first?”
“Wha..?” DeVita noticed the genuine look of Talun-Tas at that moment. He took this moment to collect his thoughts, regarded the idea with thorough and fair examination, giving it time to sit in him.
And then, he finally said, “Um…Geez, I guess I…Oh man, I could try to get myself some hidden treasures for free, maybe.”
Talun’s expression dropped the genuine element.
“One of those from…That Barry the Executioner!” DeVita continued. “The guy I owe money to, but he also owes me, so what I do is let him kill me, then I kill him, since I can’t be killed!” He dusted off his hands. “BAM! After that…I guess, I dunno, try to go to the Abyss. But then, I’d probably get eaten there first. Which sounds like pain in the ass. It’ll probably try to digest me too. Actually, if I can’t die, maybe digesting wouldn’t work. I’ll probably be stuck inside that thing for a while. Damn, that would suck then…”
DeVita scratched his head again. When you live everyday with a sense that you might die, the idea of what happens if you hadn’t just seemed like an alien concept. He sat down on the floor and tapped the side of his face. What an odd thought to be dwelling on.
“I dunno!” he finally responded. “What IS immortality useful for? Coming back from stab wounds? Like my grandma says, you learn from mistakes, and if you can’t die, there’s no learning then, right? And I learn a lot. I mean, I learned a lot. I know a lot. Not that I got stabbed a lot…And dying ain’ that scary. I guess I’m saying…immortality is pointless.”
Talun-Tas’s expression were locked in place, directly pointing to DeVita. The latter shrugged after his whole speech, as if to imply he was done.
“This is…Exactly!”
DeVita watched Talun-Tas and nearly lost his jaw to the floor. The bird began shifting in place, until he finally managed to plant his knees, before shockingly enough, stand up.
“Imagine,” the bird continued, “of all the gifts of the god you could get, and its GODDAMN IMMORTALITY! What am I supposed to do with this?” Talun said, grabbing and showing off his misshapen body. “Get myself killed, over and over? Oh sure, I have infinite years to spend, I just get up, and then get myself killed again! I have all the time to do whatever I want, but everything keeps changing around me! And I can’t do anything about it! I’m not some genius with a plan, I am a sucker who got roped in, and now,” he slapped the gut, “I do this! Who the hell decided to give me immortality, huh?! Without getting me something more useful, like a genie or super-strength, or maybe an army! I can do an army! But nope, all I have become, is a giant weapons deposit! What a goddam gift of the gods, right!? THIS. IS. POINTLESS!!!”
DeVita did not say a word back. The only way he came up to respond was by slowly nodding his head while sitting, playing up an image of an attentive schoolboy. This meant that the only noise all three heard after the speech were the torches, steps from outside, and Talon, huffing and panting. The bird’s legs then slowly gave out and he dropped with his ass back on the floor.
“…You okay bud?” DeVita asked.
The bird huffed once more and finally made himself more comfortable. “Yes, you can say that,” he told him. DeVita just noticed how thin the bird’s legs were. For all this talk of his grossness, the guy had no muscle. They were just sticks carrying a stuffed meat bag.
“I dunno what is going on with you,” DeVita said, “but let me tell ya, that wallowing on the past ain’t gonna fix your issues, pal. You made a mistake once, or someone made a mistake using you. I say, big deal! You take what you have and take charge of it! I never cared what I am, and neither should you!”
The bird was gazing at the lizard for a long while. That long, thoughtful one, no different than DeVita’s own when he sees a shiny piece of whetted metal.
“You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, finally.
“All I know is that you got issues, and a nifty trick of puking up bottles of water,” DeVita said. His head turned backwards from the sound of his friend on the ground. “Speaking of, I still need that other one. Try tossing it better.”
“He…has a giant machine,” Talun explained, confusing DeVita, “which can take any material and change it into another material. Which can be anything. That machine happens to be magitek, too. As in, a machine that uses magic.”
DeVita’s face was barely changing. With enough time, Talun realized that he was just gawking at him.
Still, he continued, “Now, to make anything, what you need is a supply of materials. Just cause you can do anything, still doesn’t mean you can make thin air out of it. But, if you find some sort of constant, never-ending supply of material, you can be set for life. For example, what if you got an immortal person, who never dies from losing flesh, and gains it back the next day?”
DeVita slowly nodded his head. “Ok,” he said. “Why are you telling me this?”
The bird looked at him incredulously. There was some shuffling behind DeVita, as the giant fish began asking for more water.
“Just wait a second Schwartz, I’m talkin’ here.” He looked back at Talun again. “So, you mean you know an immortal, or what?”
Talun shook his head, his beak forming a crooked grin. “Are you that dumb?” he unhesitatingly asked.
DeVita jumped back to his feet. Maybe it was irritation speaking from being left in the dark, but he began shouting back at Talun, filling the empty air of the dungeon with obscenities. This included telling him to “Shut that fucking beak up” and “Learn to shit that weight out better”, among other things. Throughout this whole time, the bird grinned like an idiot, as if he found a hidden treasure.
…
Dart sneaked past Snake-Eyed without much of a fuss. Confrontations are usual, especially with bandits, who tend to care little about their own lives. But seeing him leave without looking back, she continued towards the door, and knocked on it seven times, exactly.
It was opened a few seconds later.
“I’m coming!” the cat announced as soon as he swung the door open. His body got caught in mid-fall forward, before steadying himself back up to look around proudly. With another sigh of dissatisfaction, he spun on his heels and re-entered the house again.
Inside, the first thing he did was to drink, the second time in a row he has done, after someone had him get out of the house. Burping out rather pitifully, he rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, before finally reaching for the doors of a wardrobe. He threw them to the sides, standing face to face against the large collection of cloaks, ponchos, hats, towels, robes, and a bucket on the corner.
He pushed them all aside, until the stone wall of the house could be easily seen. The wardrobe, apparently, had an open back. Furthermore, one could see that this piece of furniture was rather large for someone living in these tight quarters. The cat climbed into the wardrobe and pressed his hand to both sides of the wardrobe’s rear frame. Then, as if it was a piece of paper, he removed a huge square chunk of the stone wall. More accurately, it could be called folding paper, which he then neatly put away to the side. Afterwards, he stopped in front of the wardrobe and just stood there. He was taking a moment to contemplate, as most drunkards do. Sighing and swaying side to side, the cat plopped down on the wardrobe’s base, then leaned his head against the wall, and gave out a very depressing, very long burp.
“Why am I even here…?” he muttered.
As if he was about to think on his life some more, he eyes settled on the wine again. Not wanting to lose that lustrous feeling again, he stood up to get it again. But before he could grasp its neck, a metallic fist landed in his eye. He spent the rest of the night in blissful journey to the dreamlands.
Dart methodically shoved the body under the beds, before quickly heading to the hole within the wardrobe. A dark passageway, leading downwards with a set of stairs was in it. She rotated the knob on the side of her helmet, and then confidently made her way down the passage. It was after thirty steps that some light had finally began to illuminate her way, in the form of small candle lights, situated in deep grooves within the walls. It was at this time that she noticed how spacious the whole secret hallway has been. With her lithe body, she could fit in five more of herself. Even that huge blubberfish could manage to fit in here with ease.
After covering through twenty-five more steps, she could hear someone talking, finally. And rather loudly too, making it clear she was on the right track.
“Start using your brain!”
“Shut yer yap, you overstuffed turkey!!!”
“I’m dhirstheeeeeee!”
Dart quickly descended through the rest of the steps, until she landed on the smooth, hard floor. The room she was in was still spacious, now illuminated by single row of torchlights. Those three were still arguing, though now, they were doing it on the opposite side of the wall. Dart pressed a lever on the rear of her helmet and stared at the wall for a short minute. She led herself along the wall, and stopped only after finding that one, needed brick. She pushed it, and the wall in front of her hinged open.
She pulled from her pocket the yarn ball and unclipped the end of the strand. She lightly pulled on the bricks, only to put more effort when the hidden door revealed to be much heavier. Making the opening just slightly bigger, she slipped in, then looked for the prisoner in question. As chance would have it, he happened to be right in front of her. A red bird man, with distended stomach, wildly flailing his arms, but unable to get himself off the ground, thanks to his enormous torso. She aimed at the bar of the bird’s cell with the strand, after attaching a piece of paper on it. She threw it with a flick, and after it hit one bar of his cell with a satisfying “cling!”, she immediately retreated. The first part of the plan was finished.
Talus eyed the broken bar, which fell apart once something hit it. He peeked over at the door which usually was used by the messenger whenever they had some sort of order for him. However, all he saw was a slightly off wall, and a strand of yarn, which led all the way from it to the bar. Curious over this, he waddled on his knees towards it. This all happened while the lizard continued on his yelling, by the way.
“AND ANOTHER THING!” exclaimed DeVita, “IF YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY BELLYBUTTON AGAIN, I WILL whatcha got there?”
He pushed his nose in between the bars, eyeing the letter at the bird’s hands. He couldn’t see, but he could tell by the parchment quality, that it must have come from that “boss” himself. Schwarz tried to nosy in too, crawling in on all fours while asking what was going on, but DeVita pushed him back two fingers. As Talus reached the bottom of the page, his eyes grew as big and round as his belly.
“He wants me to go HOW BIG?!” Talus yelled in full volume. “Is he completely insane!!?”
“What? What’s wrong?” DeVita kept on asking. “Wanna share some stuff, buddy?”
Talus sat down and looked over the notes again, still in disbelief over the orders given. He was clutching at his own throat, already feeling the pain and suffering he will be going through, in order to make this huge monster. That madman has gone off of his rocker, and is simply looking to shoot fire into every direction possible. There were no more plans of building a new empire. All he cared for was to make the fire bigger. Talus kept rubbing his throat, and then looked at his belly. He needed to escape, even if he was physically incapable. He might survive this, but he won’t be “alive” anymore.
“Hey, I’m still talking here!”
Talus looked over to the two men. The lizard was leaning as lightly as possible on the bars as to not break them, expectantly waiting for Talus to let him get a look at the map. The shark was still drinking some water from the canister.
“Say, lizard,” Talus started, as a thought suddenly came to his mind.
“Mister DeVita to you, and whadd’ya want?”
“I…” he carefully considered his request, again and again. Up until now, his life was just an endless stream of happenings to him. He wanted a lazy life without a worry. And now, after several years of torture and pain brought to him by his own foolishness, he can finally take back what was taken from him. “I, have a proposition.”
…
Onyx sat at the edge of the large sandy hill, watching from afar with a pair of binoculars. The ones he had were equipped with night vision, but he turned it off, because the city was bright enough already. From fire to that giant golden machine, he would probably go blind using them. Ramus returned to sit near him again, leaving Pot to play with the “snake” by himself again.
“Anything?” Ramus asked.
Onyx took a swig from his energy drink. After giving a spit, he finally put down the binoculars.
“She’s out. All clear,” he said triumphantly.
“Onyx, I want you to tell me, just out of curiousity,” spoke Ram. “What does this invention do, that one that they want?”
“My friend, you know it’s never about the machine!” Onyx said. He stood up and waved the golden sheet to Pot. “Your turn now, buddy!”
“Duuuuuuuuude!” Pot exclaimed in happiness, before shoving the “snake” face-first into the sand. Ramus did not like the idea of leaving it like that.
Onyx pulled the ram’s backpack.
“Let’s bring them in, now.”
“I…really don’t like this idea,” Ramus noted hesitantly.
“It’s foolproof, man. C’mon, don’t get nervous now,” Onyx replied, pulling out an oversized cage from within the insides of his friend’s bag. There were many noises scattering the cage, and many, many, many fangs and claws that ran within it. Ramus gave one last disapproving shake. Onyx waved the golden sheet over it, before saying, “Let the final part of the plan…begin.”
…
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
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