1 1. Cornered vigilant
The metallic projectiles seemed to dance around the fingers of the man and the chamber of the revolver. While the bullets found their way into their spots, the gun sppined around in the gunslinger index finger, shaking and dancing with his black and purple cape. For that man, a normal reload would take around 2.7 seconds to be complete, but with his majestic and playful maneuver, it took double the time. A much impressive feat for a ordinary man. But that was no ordinary man man. No ordinary man would make such a move in his position, to take more time for a reload, with his life on the line. His parka style, black and purple coat floating around his body unable to stay in place due to the quick movement.
His back pressed against the wooden structure of a street market store. The street was barely illuminated in that night, only a half moon irradiating a bare minimal amount of light, just enough for an ordinary man to see the world in shadows. But again, that wasn't an ordinary man. He could see the dirt street, the simple wood and mud buildings, and the people trying to kill him, running towards him at the street and roofs. Years of experience and modifications on his early years made all the difference on his job.
Covered in shadows and the window frame, a figure prepare his crossbow to shoot at the gunslinger 4 meters bellow on the street. As he puts the deadly weapon on the window, he aligns his shoot. Adjusting the position, he prepares his scaly gray hands to take his chance and collect his reward. He would use it to buy a new house and party for days, giving in for the pleasures of flash. The scaly crossbowman licks his lips with his bi pointed tong and start to move his finger.
That instant, a hole appears in the wood door frame. Similar to the hole at the head of the lizard man, just as he was about to take his shoot. His body collapses, the brain completely splattered in the room. His weapon fall to the street bellow. He is dead before he even reach the ground behind him.
The gunslinger spins his firearm vertical. In that motion, he pulls the small lever, getting his weapon ready to fire again. Different than the usual flintlock firearm, his weapon, witch he build himself, could fire 6 bullets before reloading or resupply the gunpowder, as it was stored on the back of the bullet, so he only needed to load up the bullets and pull the leaver, saving much time. Witch was usually spent on spins, jumps and general show off.
To understand where this shady and violent scene is happening, we need to understand all the context, all the land around, and the way that I will show you can only be done with the power of literature and imagination. As such, lets get away, approximately 50 kilometers away.
Here there is a forest. Not a normal forest you see. Not that it ain't boiling with life, or with no ecosystem, with creatures, plants, fungus, bacteria and other kinds of life. It is indeed, normal, but is different. At least is different than the one you are used to reader. Because this forest, it is bloody red.
Not completely red, and not all red is like blood you see. The is still brown earth bellow it, and gray rock bellow that, and hot magma way bellow of it. But the grass is in a soft red. The trees have red leaves, and dark brow logs, as if they were mad out of charcoal, branches with small spikes, like a rose.
The growling animals made an evil cacophony. There was the sound of small crawling creatures. The spine trembling sound of the birds sing. The guttural and terrifying howls of distant wolfs, the ones the size of bulls and sadistic killing intent. Even the insects made different, horrifying little creaks.
It is possible to feel the bad energy around the forest. As it the ecosystem was a living monster, in position to jump at any passerby. The air around is metallic and humid, complementing the idea of the forest been a living, breathing, deadly monster. A hungry ecology off dire life, as if the evil itself took form as the wilds, the caos of nature.
This is enough description of this deadly biome, for now that is. Approximating the place where the unusual man was fighting for his life, there is a wall. For lack of better words, it will be called as such, but that show of power and determination of civilization to protect itself from the brute nature around it, is much more than a simple wall.
Made with solid black stone blocks, it stands at 15 meters high in his body ans 22 at the watch Towers, spaced 200 meters apart. There are soldiers and guards, 3 for each tower and 4 in the lower parts and intersections. It holds the protected area of a great city,which deserves many paragraphs itself. The wall was shaped in a perfect circle, with an imprecise 92 kilometers of pure, massive might. The wall was so impressive, it is written with a capital W. The Wall.
After the Wall, there is the rural area of the city. Normally, the farmland wasn't enough to feed a town, much less the amazing city it circulated. But it was engraving with tactics and arcane power, witch made the crops in that area grown ten times as fast and twice as big. There, one can see many different crops, to wheat, rice, bees, fruits, yellow sugar plant, cotton, and more. Agriculture flourished, as well as animal breeding and butchering
A commentary is need, a foot note, a really important difference than the outside of the Wall. There was no sing of the red corruption of the forest. The farms were multicolored and peacefull. None of the wild caos from the forest outside, nor it's deadly nature. It was life dominated by civilization and order.
Many years before, so many years in fact, that you should say decades, even centuries, the survivors of the collapsing world fund that place, great green plains surrounded by the bloody forest. The grass shined like emeralds, given the first people to live on it the idea of the future city name. Emeraldplain.
The city as it stands would take many, many paragraphs to describe in a way to make it justice
As such, I won't bore you more than necessary in this story, that is, for the time been.
That been said, the part of the city where the history needs to tell is, unfortunately, the slum. Not to say that a slum is a bad place for a story, but, a story as this one at this time is one to bring hard times, violence and inconvenience. And people in these kinds of any city have an enough share of these already, more than enough.
Especially that slum.
Cramped. This word is the first focus when describing this impoverished place. Houses and other structures are build on top of each other, making 3 to 5 floors of misery on that sorry part of town. The upper floors have streets of their on, made from planks, dirt, vine, and clay. That been said, it ain't very safe to walk in such passes, but the locals have bigger problems. The poor housing materials make it dangerous even to stay inside, and violence is a constant, immutable, such as the vomit inducing smell and the demimonster people
Yes, as described earlier, there are such people in the city, mostly thrown away to the slum.
Ignored, but never forgotten. Repulsive,different and marginalized
In that place, an unfortunate place i reassure, the flamboyant looking gunslinger spined his two revolvers after killing the lizard man, the scent of blood and lead perpetuate once more on the air, not first time on the last 10 seconds, and not the last time. Just one more demimonster killed, one more body two dispose and, in the uniformly chaotic mind of that vigilant, one less danger to everyone.
Making a heavy breathing, the unusual man stand up, jumping to the right, a movement with the flow of a dance and swiftness of an Acrobat. His deadly instruments resetting their blunt and metallic melody of death. As he darted to the right, guns blazing, he recognizes 2 figures chasing him on the dark, and other movements on the ceilings above, as it was the top floor of the slum. His fast projectiles take the runners down, one of then screaming and the other silent, dead in a slit second as the bullet penatrate his skull.
The vigilant keep running from the criminals.
