"Ladies and gentle-orcs!" Exclaimed the roguish goblin, climbing up and standing on the shoulders of Xashir and Burak, who supported his legs. He addressed everyone in the plaza in a sing-song voice, his charming smile disarming the sneers and looks of ridicule that the wealthy snobs had. Except for Jurmak's wary scowl and Gungmar's bored frown.
Unimpeded, Aiden swelled up his heroic qualities, poses, and pleasing voice.
"Fear not, wash away your misgivings about me and these fine fellows!" He remarked, motioning to his crew, who gave toothy grins and awkward smiles all around and tapped Burak and Xashir on the head with his hand. "I may be in cahoots with these scraggly-looking ruffians—quick-witted rapscallions, this lot—but rest assured, an adventurer such as myself is a slayer of evil and beasts! And these guys, who follow me into peril itself; are reliable and loyal."
All eyes were riveted on him, except for three street urchins, his minions, who were sneakily pocketing valuables from their unsuspecting victims' pockets. Unnoticed and fleet-footed.
Murmurs of ensnared disbelief swept across the captivated listeners, particularly when the word 'adventurer' was mentioned. A word that seemed to fit Aiden, based on the way he carried himself now, as opposed to before, and his weather-beaten outfit and cape.
Jurmak cast an uneasy glance between Aiden and Mohawk, the latter of whom lingered nearby a safe distance away, no doubt to keep an eye on him in case the gatekeeper tried to put an end to whatever ruse Aiden was putting on.
And, boy, did that ruffian sure know how to work an audience.
Meanwhile, Gungmar yawned and listened to Aiden with half an ear. He'd met a few adventurers in his time, mostly dwarves and their golem constructs, as well as a few orcish warriors, who were frequently hired to clear out nests of giant scorpions and packs of wild vurgrs terrorizing villages and the sort. And this goblin 'adventurer' was nothing out of the ordinary in comparison.
He was short in stature, a liar with that fake scar of his that could fool anyone who saw him at a bare glance, and he had a silver tongue to boot: he was resembling a bard more than what he claimed to be.
Regardless, he was curious to hear whatever nonsense this guy was spewing.
"Yes, that is right! I am Aiden Hellsseeker, the hero who ventured to the seven hells and returned a legend." Aiden continued, puffing up his chest with a wide grin. A heckler attempted to refute his self-assertion, claiming that the real Hellsseeker was nothing more than a mythical figure, but was quickly silenced when the goblin made a witty retort.
"...of course, I am an adventurer. You dare disprove my claim? Ha! As proof, lay your eyes on this! My weapon I kept as a trophy from the Obsidon's armory, the authentic blade of shadows." Aiden told his lie with a genuineness that persuaded the hesitant audience of his 'truth.'
He proudly unsheathed a dagger and raised it to the sky, its wickedly sharp edge glinting in the glare of the sun. It had an unusually black sheen to it, as if the void was drawing you in with its abyssal mouth the longer you looked at it. A devilish dagger said to be forged from evildoers' sin-stained souls and underworld-originated magic enchanted by the Fat Beast.
So the story goes.
Aiden just smirked internally at his audience's puzzled expressions, who murmured appreciatively about the blade's quality. Fern, his mage companion, was skilled at illusion and mind tricks. And no one in the audience was wise enough to point it out. Aside from said mage, who was bone-tired and sitting on a bench after exhausting himself for such a meager spell.
"Yes, yes, hold your pants lest it falls to the floor from my prodigious fame," Aiden said crudely, leaving scandalized and flushed looks in his wake. He eyed Del, Kor, and Zuz from behind a bush as they gave him a small nod when they showed him a few rings stolen from their victims of theft.
He made a subtle gesture with his fingers for them to return, slightly grinning. And another to a pair of female hobgoblins behind him to 'pull their weight.' Annoyed, Nina and Shina walked over to the uninterested half-orc and set about to work their wily charms on him.
**Good, everything is falling into place**, thought the goblin. **The gals have to drag him to a more... public place. Away from here, and the Squall—otherwise, rival gangs might snatch our bounty. Pff, I won't let that happen—and away from the market. Jurmak would beat us all to death by half an inch if we lay a beat down at his workplaces. The best we can do is assault Two-Four in a residential district and complete the conditions. Easy-peasy.**
The aforementioned hobgoblins were currently attempting to entice Gungmar with their carnal services, which he refused, a tad surprising them. Undiscouraged, Nina and Shina interlocked their arms with the objecting spear-wielding half-orc and led him away from the plaza, down the stairs, and sneaked a glance at Aiden at the same time. When he saw this, the pretender-adventurer jumped down from his living and temporary scaffolding and grabbed at Xashir and Burak's ears.
"Ouch, boss, it hurt me."
"Shut up, Burak. What do you want us to do, boss?"
"Yeah, here's the situation. The gals just dragged Two-Four away from the plaza. Catch up to them, drag Fern and Mohawk with you as backup, and lay a smackdown to his ass. Make sure no watchdog sees or catches you, only a few terrified witnesses to see the attack. Ya, dig?" Without waiting for confirmation, Aiden slapped both his lackeys on the cheek and nudged his head toward Gungmar's faint silhouette.
"Got it, boss," the pair of greenskins, now four when they commanded Fern and Mohawk to follow with their eye contact, went after Nina and Shina to ambush their target.
"Heh, all in a day's work; now it's time to swindle these highborn scumbags," Aiden said as he continued his antics to impress the wealthy snobs. Del, Kor, and Zuz simply shrugged in unison as they followed the rest of their motley crew to their destination. Their pockets were dangling from the weight of stolen valuables.
•••
"As I said, I'm not interested," Gungmar said, mildly resisting the hobgoblins' pulling on his arms and taking care not to hit the girls with his spear.
"Really? Come on, big guy, it'll be a freebie." Nina waggled her brows at the half-orc and smiled flirtatiously at him. Shina simply traced a calloused palm and five lines on his shoulder in an attempt to elicit an embarrassing response from the target.
Failingly.
The half-orc didn't have a flushed face from all the touchy-feely stuff they'd been doing, which almost infuriated the pair. Almost. They were professionals, so they kept their true feelings hidden and put on the same fake smiles as Gungmar.
"Even so, I don't really like you both that way. We just met. Zurul's tusks." **Besides, I like someone else and only her,** he added internally, thinking of a dear friend.
"Woah, big guy, it's just screwing around." Nina almost laughed as she playfully smacked the half-orc's behind. Gungmar only grunted in response to the unpleasant blow. "It's not some kind of, ya know..." Nina trailed off awkwardly, and Shina nodded politely in agreement, revealing a fanged smile from popping her lips at him.
"I know, but it's not—wait, where are you taking me?" Gungmar asked, seeing a few mistrustful crimson glares peeking out from curtains and window frames around him. In contrast to the slums' rundown, overcrowded, and poverty-stricken buildings, the houses they passed by were somewhat densely packed yet homey and still inhabited albeit of a lesser kind.
Gungmar's heart was pounding slightly as he calmly assessed his situation. He dropped all pretenses and remained motionless when both hobgoblins attempted to drag him along with them.
"Hey, big guy. We're not stopping here. Too many eyes, unless you want them to see us? Eheh." Nina snickered, hoping to lighten the mood and get the target moving, but she was cut off when Gungmar gave her and Shina a serious look.
The pair took a step back, scared (mostly Nina), and tried to smooth things out.
"Ah, yeah... so... uhm... fuck," she said, her mind blank as she tried to come up with an excuse. Without any coming to mind, she resorted to her second option; Shina. "Hey, sis, help me out here..." Nina pleaded to her sister, a terrified expression on her face, as she shifted her gaze between Shina and Gungmar, as well as behind her back, toward the plaza, looking for their companions' familiar mugs to back them up.
She almost sighed in relief when she saw the outlines of Burak, Xashir, and the others, but she quickly clamped down on her tongue: she wasn't about to give away their positions.
Meanwhile, with a sigh, Shina tried to steel her nerves, and stepped closer to Gungmar, continuing to tactically roam her hands on his scarred muscles. The half-orc halted her by grabbing the hobgoblin's hand and saying, 'no.' She continued with her other hand, steadfast and uncaring, puckering her lips.
Annoyed, the half-orc let out a burst of bloodlust from his menacing, stone-faced stare at the hobs, paralyzing them. His eyes screamed 'danger' at the pair of greenskins, who were sweating profusely, cold sweat trickling down their foreheads.
He noticed Nina's obvious glances behind them and had a feeling that someone was either following them or trying to ambush him. "Come out. Whoever you are," he commanded to the unseen figures as he turned around.
Slowly, seven greenskins emerged from their hiding places; an orc, a hob, and the rest of them shorter goblins. They were brandishing cruel-looking shanks and minacious bludgeons with metal barbs protruding at the heavy end and waving them at Gungmar threateningly.
"So, you izn't stupid, ah? How you know us hiding? Ouch, don't hits me," the thuglike orc said as he punched the gapped-teeth hobgoblin in the chest from smacking him in the back of the head. The other greenskins just groaned, as Nina and Shina hurriedly bounded over to them, hiding behind their protective stances of makeshift, crude weapons.
"What?" Gungmar exhaled, his head throbbing from hearing the larger orc speak. He took in the appearances of all seven—no, nine of them. When he recognized most of their features, a bell rang inside his head: these were all the people who accompanied that charismatic Aiden Hellsseeker from earlier, and he concluded that they were out for his blood.
Given that he is, well, alone in this place with nine potential enemies. But for what? Money? Revenge? Ah. That's it. Possibly that officer who had a grudge against him, now that he thought about it. It is possible.
"Hey!" A skinny little urchin with terribly long fingernails raised his high-pitched voice. "All of you! Yeah, you! Hiding behind those curtains and doors! This is a Raven's Contract! So you better keep your eyes glued on us when we beat this guy's ass! Otherwise, we'll come for you when you mess up our bounty!" He yelled.
**For such a small child, he had such ruthless intent behind his threatening words,** Gungmar reflected.
The people he lectured barely responded, but a few nodded timidly. Not eager to obstruct a gang's criminal activities for fear of being next in line after this half-orc.
Gungmar sighed as he looked around with only his eyes. Since he had that spear, close-quarter combat wasn't his strong suit, but he prepared a fighting stance, space be damned.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Fern, the goblin mage, asked, his face puzzled. His skin was still pale and tired from casting his spell for Aiden.
"What does it look like? He's going to fight us, dumbass. Hey, you. You're outnumbered, so just surrender fool! There's nine of us, and one of you. You don't stand a chance..." Xashir said, though, rather unconvincingly. From what Nina told him, this guy was dangerous. Exceptionally dangerous.
But she's exaggerating, right? He's probably weaker than their boss, Aiden, right? He hoped so. Otherwise, they might just die.
Still, a job's a job, so they prepared to fight against Two-Four. All nine of them.
"I hope this doesn't bite me in the back, and I just got my reprimand," the half-orc sighed, his spear poised. "Let's end this quick."
Gungmar rushed at them, hoping to take the advantage of the first strike.
Happy birthday to my friend and fellow author, Resident Eldritch. You're getting in on your years, dude. Heh, just kidding. Anyways, keep it real.