Chapter 17 - How to lose a one sided fight.

With Troit’s statement and Felicity suddenly rearing her weapon aggressively, the brazen confidence of the colourful mercs momentarily faltered.

The Dborin leading their negotiations barked out a handful of short succinct sentences in his native tongue, back still straight and voice strong. Ross envied his calm confidence.

The weaselly translator began his shrill rendition of the spoken words but everyone was instantly silenced by a loud echoing gong sound. Whilst staring down the mercenary’s captain Troit swung his table-leg club in a one-handed blow against the heavily clad foe pointing his clawed gauntlets at him.

The articulated bronze plates clanged from the hefty smash and the occupant was knocked to the ground and rolled a good distance away before he was able to stop himself. The poor manoeuvrability of the panoply leaving him like a turtle on its back unable to right itself.

“See this is why we shouldn’t let you two do the negotiations.” Yerin said nudging Ross with his elbow.

Once everyone had taken stock of the situation the street erupted in a frenzy of activity. Lichter swung his tail around in a bid to knock down the Roskin that was pestering him but the wailing man-beast deftly leapt high over it and proceeded to lunge at Lichter with testing jabs. The two became locked in a back and forth of wild powerful swings and swift evasion.

Felicity yelled out an angry war cry and lunged at the Dborin, but the two Impere intercepted her pitchfork in a blur of motion. Within the same moment as she thrust her weapon it was flung aside. The young farmer threw herself to floor to retrieve the pitchfork, diving below a reaching fist.

“Do you ever regret our life choices Ross?” Wiesse asked as the multiple armed assailants closed in around the duo.

“I bet he regrets it every day.” Yerin responded for the dumbfounded actor from high above, using the moments confusion to climb atop the building next to them and watch from a safe distance.

“Thanks buddy, so very helpful!” Weisse responded.

The Dborin, once clearly safe from the risk of combat strolled forward with his now evident wanton abandon. Ross envied him further for his surety.

He issued another short burst of words, and the interpreter shuffled up significantly more worried than his leader, “We may not be allowed to hurt you. But we have no qualms with disarming you. Draw your weapons and face the power of us the Shalayan Dervishes.” The interpreter spoke with none of the stoicism seen in the words he translated, at one point stopping to duck the body of one of his comrades, thrown by Troit.

“You are going to find this funny.” Yerin said from his perch, chomping loudly into an apple he had somehow procured.

“Yea, I hate to be the one to point this out.” Ross said with a shrug, “But no weapons.”

The Dborin accused the pair with his Falcata and pointed its tip towards the sheathed blade on Wiesse’s hip.

He didn’t wait for the translator to explain the words he’d just heard, Wiesse simply laughed and pulled out the wooden sword from its lacklustre scabbard. “Yup, not a weapon, really more of a… decoration?” he said in a mild panic.

“I’d have gone with prop.” Ross added.

For a brief moment Ross and Wiesse felt the very silent confusion that was clear on the Dborin’s face in spite of only a slither around his eyes being visible. He looked between the acting pair and then, in the common tongue that needed no translator he said “What in the bloody nine hells is wrong with you two.”

It was at that moment he took a well armoured Roskin monkey man to the back of the head.

As the now entangled pair of assailants fell to the floor with what Ross could only assume was a native profanity and the whooping howls of a pissed off monkey man he pumped a fist into the air with an almost entirely unwarranted and definitely unearned hooray. “How we looking Yerin?” he asked, excitement scuppered when he had to dodge Troit’s muscular frame which was being shoved against the wall by a burly bruiser. The shirtless man would probably have been evenly matched with Troit had the later not spent most of the wrestle complimenting his opponents’ muscles.

“Well, if I had to give you a word for our situation, I would say.” To Yerin’s credit he did contemplate his answer for more than a second… possibly two, “bad. Definitely bad.”

Felicity reached her pitchfork after the twin Impere had disarmed her, but she had placed herself back to the ground when she rounded on them. The twins were far too deft and fast to see any threat from the disadvantaged former farmer and within moments she was disarmed again with a blade at her throat.

Troit continued to wrestle his hench counterpart, but two others had joined in and even he stood little chance in besting three on one.

Lichter, their stalwart had just tossed the Roskin at the leader of the self-entitled Shalayan Dervishes and stood up abruptly from the motion to accidently headbutt the gauntleted, bell armoured merc and send him flying and rolling off for the second time.

“Then again, I’ve never tried to kidnap a nine-foot asshole shaped like a crocodile. So, we may be ok.” Yerin concluded.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Buddy!” Wiesse shouted at Lichter, “I think it’s time for that thing we’ve been planning!”

The Kkyrunnig bobbed his snout at his long-time friend and took to all fours.

Blades were pointed at Ross as Troit was being bound and Felicity demanded that anyone do something as she failed to writhe out of her predicament.

Wiesse managed to push past one of the mercenaries and lunged towards Lichter with purpose. In a swift motion he mounted the crocodile man at the neck and waved his wooden sword in the air with a rather un-intimidating “Hiyah!”

The moment was short lived as the Roskin managed to untangle himself and threw a handful of dirt at Lichter’s eyes.

The Kkyrunnig responded by going bipedal with speed and a loud shout. Leaving Wiesse to dangle by his legs off his comrades’ shoulders.

The Dborin was quick to recover behind his ally and gathered up the net from the ground, quickly passing it to the Roskin who was now jumping up and down with excitement as he hooted.

It was possibly this over-excitement that lead the Roskin’s attempts to throw the net over Lichter to resolve with Wiesse being caught up instead. Though it is also just likely difficult to target one of two idiots when the larger of the two is blindly flailing about screaming and the other is dangling off their back, arms whipping about wildly.

Regardless.

Wiesse found himself in a neat ball on the roadside, bound in the net as Lichter finally blinked away the dirt and rounded on his foes.

Those of the Dervishes team who were not nursing wounds gathered up the wine-stained actor quickly. Those not holding down the two remaining fighters turned their weapons on Lichter.

“You, it is time you come with us.” The interpreter replicated the Dborin’s words, their leader returning to his chosen speech.

“Don’t forget Lich’ they are forbidden from hurting us.” Yerin pointed out.

The Kkyrunnig was panting heavily, the exertion of keeping pace with the Roskin clearly taking its toll on his larger and heavier body.

“I ain’t going to shit!” Lichter shouted.

A moments bafflement. Ross laughed.

“I believe he means he isn’t going to come with us.” The small translator said, feeling the need to explain to his confused leader.

After more of the Dborin tongue the converted phrase from the weaselly man came, “It is regrettable that you feel this way. But we have been given instruction.”

Before the phrase was finished the Dervish’s leader sheathed his weapon and with marked ease hefted Wiesse in one arm, still coiled up in the net.

“Bring the beast to the dockyard by nightfall. Then it is the masters choice what happens to your friend here.” He said so that everyone understood.

Ross went to speak but was cut off by the heavy breathing and huffing noise of the bell armoured merc’ returning to his team, finally rectifying himself after Lichter had knocked him down.

Ross’s intention to instruct Lichter to step up and stop them never came after that. The Kkyrunnig moved over to the wall and slumped down exhausted.

“Look guys, you don’t want me as a hostage, I’m terrible, I already need to piss.” Wiesse argued from inside his confines.

Leaving Troit in a tight rope bind and the twins pushing Felicity up against the wall, taking with them her weapon. The remaining mercenaries joined their captain triumphantly.

Ross was tense on his feet, eager to free his lifelong friend. But he knew he was bested. He went to say something, but the heavy crunch of an apple disturbed him and then he heard the slow clapping of Yerin who was still sat casually on the rooftop.

“We’re bested, well done.” Yerin said after he removed the apple from his mouth. “What if we just gave you the money instead. What is our Crocodilian friend worth to you.”

“It is a principle. We purchased him. Our master, purchased him.”

Wiesse writhed again, “We can give you the gold back, Lichter has it. Don’t you buddy. Give it over.”

At that moment Lichter, purposefully threw up in a hard heaving motion. A moist and pungent mass of collectables spewed forth from his maw. Included among a full pigeon, a shoe, several large stones, a pipe and one model boat in a glass bottle – both in inexplicably mint condition – were two small silver coins. The only currency evicted from Lichter’s, make-do wallet.

“Buddy… The fuck is that?” Wiesse asked sullen.

“Err that would be the change.” Lichter said weakly.

Felicity shook her head, “I think he means the pige-“ Before she could finish the pigeon remarkably got up and flew away. – “the pigeon…” she finished curtly.

“No, I meant the measly two Gods damned silver!”

Lichter nodded affirmingly and finished with a quiet, “Yup, the change.” Before seemingly falling asleep.

“This is absolute madness.” Ross said, frustration boiling to the front, “Why the hell do we keep giving that scally lummox all of our finances to carry around!”

He riled himself up and began marching towards the Dborin with an accusatory finger pointed at no one in particular. But was stopped when the remnants of an apple bounced off the ground by his foot. He looked up to see Yerin shaking his head.

“Warehouse by the docks. Nightfall, was that correct?”

Content that their bargaining had been concluded the Dborin simply nodded.

“Good. We’ll see you there. Now fuck off.”

-

It was an awkward moment as the Dervish’s gathered themselves. The Roskin taking several stern whippings into line as he jittered about still eyeing up Lichter. The twins threw down Felicities pitchfork and kicked it unceremoniously toward her before correcting the Bell armoured mans stance and aiding his journey back to the docks.

Ross, Felicity and Yerin watched them pensively as they slowly backed down the road, two at the rear always watching and defensive.

Wiesse called out in frustration at first, but as he was taken further away Ross drew a tear when his angry cries became calls for help and one beseechment from his long-time acting friend, a week please at its end.

“What the fuck are we going to do.” Ross said weekly.

“Apples.” Troit said, quietly.

“We should go after them now, when they aren’t expecting it.” Felicity said, agitated.

Lichter snored, worn out and spent from combat with such a fast and dastardly opponent, he passed out where he sat.

“No, we can’t attack them now, we need to think of something.” Ross said, pacing back and forth.

“Apples.” Troit said again.

“The fuck are you on about!” Felicity cried out.

“Apples.” Troit said, no change to his tone, “Yerin has apples.”

Ross and Felicity looked up to the roof where Yerin was sat casually, smiling and chewing on a fresh apple. He threw one of the rich, plump red fruits down to Troit who took it eagerly in his hastily untied hands.

“Apples.” Yerin said with a sly smile, “Had to get them from somewhere.”

Felicity took a moment to think and replay their movements from the day, the only moment she didn’t have sight of their roguish companion. “The Docks?”

“The warehouses by the docks…” Yerin said, sly smile still apparent.

“You broke in earlier?” Ross asked, he didn’t wait for an answer. “You can break in and sneak out Wiesse?”

“Like I said, had to get them from somewhere didn’t I.”

Felicity looked at Troit, “And you figured that out before both of us?” she asked slightly incredulous.

Troit looked up confused, “Hmm? Oh I was just thinking was all. With apples. I can make a pie!” he said with a joyous expression.

Ross shook his head, went to say something, thought better of it and then laughed heartily.

Meanwhile, Lichter continued to snore.