Royston decided quite quickly that he wasn't a fan of dying.
To be fair, he hadn't done it before, but couple that with the fact that he definitely did not plan on ever doing it again, the point still stood. It was just one of those things he knew.
"Will you please shut up?" The Keegan grunted from across the table, the hideous giant of a man's growl barely distinguishable as part of his normal ape-like grunts and murmurs that passed for the bestial man's normal pattern of speech. Roy blinked, fighting back the desperate whine that clawed to part his lips as he tried to forget about the pain of death, focusing instead on his drinking companion's deformed features.
The Keegan was... Unique, to say the least. Easily seven foot tall, with hands the size of sledgehammers, and a face that looked like it had been hit by one. The man was one that was certainly hard to forget. So hard in fact, that if someone actually accomplished this incredible feat of consciously forcing the grotesque visage from their mind, the image would remain in subconscious returning only to haunt them as they slumbered, causing the dreamer to wake in bouts of terrified screams and puddles of sweat.
"Why do they call you The Keegan?" Jay Copley squinted as he asked, as was his manner. A mannerism likely caused by the mage's almost obsessive use of the destructive power he wielded, in the form of fire magic. A magic that, of course caused such a glare, that to stare into the raging inferno that the man could summon at will would likely cause blindness over time. They didn't call him the Bone Baker for nothing.
"Because-" Roy grunted, wincing in paid. "With a fucking face like that, he ain't a person. He's a thing."
"Your Mrs likes my thing." The Keegan shot back, with what could possibly be a grin, though it was equally likely a grimace, scowl, or he may even be in pain. Regardless, Roy didn't care. He was dying. "And stop making such a fucking fuss, you fanny." The massive man leaned forward, grabbing Roy's wrist before pulling it away to expose his grievous wound. "You nicked yourself with a fucking dagger, it barely broke the skin."
Roy frowned, staring down at the gaping hole, currently gushing blood across his forearm. Actually, the gaping wound was more of a scratch, now that The Keegan had pointed it out, and the blood was more... Dribbling, rather than gushing. Roy groaned dramatically, then grinned as he lifted his tankard of sweet brown bourbon.
"How you fucking drink that shit." The Bone Baker shook his head in wonder, lifting a tankard of frothy ale to his own lips, just as the door to the tavern burst open.
"Nobody fucking move!" The new arrival roared as the door slammed against the wall with a loud bang, a sound with enough volume to cause at least three of the sombre patrons within to turn to check out the dripping wet stranger with bored expressions.
"Fuck off mate." Royston called, tossing half a pistachio shell over to bounce off of the man's hood-covered-head. The stranger growled, whispering something under his breath before pointing his gloved hand forward, a blinding bolt of white erupting from his outstretched fingertip that exploded forward into the companion's table, obliterating it in a spray of wooden splinters, along with the three cups atop of it.
"Are you fucking serious." The Keegan moaned, staring longingly at what appeared to be the metal handle of his otherwise wooden tankard, which also appeared to be the only part that remained.
"Up!" The apparent mage yelled in a shrill tone, panic clearly beginning to set in due to the lack of reaction his destructive powers had caused. The patrons of the tavern groaned as they rose to their feet, some more wobbly than others, as the innkeeper glared at the new arrival from behind the counter. "Money, in the fucking bag." The intruder chucked a burlap sack onto the table before him. "Now!"
"If we give you our money-" Royston called back, "How the fuck are we going to buy more ale?"
"Here, here!" The Keegan growled in agreement, thumping one hand against his ogre-like chest as he nodded over the Inkeep who nodded back with a scowl.
"How are you... You do realise this is a robbery, right?" The mage stammered, his tone laced with confusion, despite the fact his features remained hidden within the confines of the dark shadows of his enveloping hood. "Like, you're going to literally die, if you don't do what I say?"
"Ah, now you see, you've just gone and fucked up." Roy met the man's frown with one of his own. "If you make us dead, no ale. If you rob us-"
"No ale." Copley finished for him with a nod of agreement. "Doesn't really seem like there's much difference between the two option, does there, mate?" The Bone Baker allowing a small ball of fire to ignite within his palm, one that he tossed from hand to hand almost casually as the other mage stiffened.
"Well, ah-Now lads, I mean, I don't think I, like maybe this was a bit of a mistake." The intruder began to backtrack, suddenly realising that he was potentially not the most powerful person in the room.
"A bit of one." The Keegan nodded his agreement as Roy moved quietly away from the table, positioning himself between the man and the door he had entered by.
"I think maybe I'll be leaving you gentlemen in peace to enjoy your, uh-" He broke off, looking at the shattered remains of the containers that had once contained the contents of their beverages. "Drinks."
"Actually." Royston spoke up, causing the would-be-robber to spin in shock, his hood falling backward to reveal a rodent-like face with closely cropped brown hair. "I think you owe us a round." He let his sleeve-blade fall down into his outstretched hand, the wicked weapon glinting in the dim light within his grip.
"And a fucking table." The barkeep called from the back of the room with a glower.
"And a fucking table." Roy nodded. Before Royston could react, the door behind him swung open, right into his back, with enough force to launch him forward at speed. Roy yelped, raising his hands before him as he thudded into the black-robed mage, who promptly crumbled to the floor unmoving, Roy's knife protruding from the space above his heart like a strange sort of marker.
"Shit." Roy blinked in surprise.
"Algar the Black, you are-" The new, new arrival paused mid-sentence, blinking in surprise as the scene before him unfolded.
"Shit." Royston repeated once more, as he realised he recognised the newest attendee to this very opposite-to-fun party. Kieran Brown. Lord Kieran Brown, to be precise, head of the T.R.O.L.E, Tarnaks Royal Oathkeeper Law Enforcement... In other words, the head of Tarnak's law enforcement. And he, Royston Thompkinson, had just murdered a man in front of him. "Look, Lord Brown, this is all just a big misunderstanding-" Roy began to babble.
"Good job man!" Brown exploded into a grin, moving forward quickly to slap Roy on the back as he passed, pausing to quickly ram his boot into the dead mage's ribs with a sickening crunch. "I've been after this bastard for years. Slippery little rodent, I guess that's where his namesake originated!"
"That's The Rat?" One of the other patrons called in amazement, as a shocked babble began to sound from around them. They all knew of the Rat, even Roy knew of the Rat, he was a local legend. A complete and utter prick, but one that had robbed and killed so many people that he had gained a grotesque element of infamy that had turned the tide of the street urchins and peasants revulsion, hatred even as the dead prick targetted his own kind for his law-breaking endeavours, to instead a twisted sense of idolisation. They all wanted to be the man, yet none ever wanted to meet him.
"Was, the Rat." Lord Brown corrected him, tugging free a heavy coin pouch before emptying the contents into the other hand, the attendants of the grotty tavern eying the glittering gold hungrily. Something that it appeared the two guards accompanying Lord Brown noticed, as they shrugged their shoulders, loosening their blade arms as they moved closer to their master protectively. "And this-" He stacked five gold coins one atop another, before thrusting his hand out towards Royston. "Is for you."
"What?" Roy spoke incredulously.
"The Rat had a five piece bounty on him, set by the King himself. Dead, or alive."
"By the balls of Chaos." The Keegan invoked their God's name in a typically blasphemous statement, which coincidentally was the only way to do so. Brown frowned as he dropped the wealth of gold into Roy's outstretched palm, watching as the man slammed his closed his into one pocket, then eyed the others in the room suspiciously.
"You know, that's your first problem." Lord Brown continued, moving his stare to meet every man's in the room. "When you follow the god of Chaos, you invite Chaos into your lives." His gauntleted hand rising to grip the scales of justice that hung from a fine silver chain about his neck. "Turn to Order, blessed be his light, and you will find structure, security, and-"
"Boring." The Keegan cut the man off, gesturing to the inkeeper to bring him another ale as he seated himself back down, despite there no longer being a table present.
"Don't waste your time, M'Lord." One of Brown's guards muttered disgustedly as he sheathed his weapon, recognition that any element of danger had now passed. Brown grunted.
"Perhaps I should. Perhaps not." He paused, as if considering his next words. "I have an offer for you and your men." the statement directed towards Roy.
"An offer?" Brown nodded.
"The fact that you took down that son of a bitch-" A quick gesture towards the Rat "Means you're men of considerable talents" Roy frowned as A few chuckles rose about the room. "I have... I guess, without sounding too cliché, a quest, that requires men of talent."
"Nope." Roy responded, spinning on his heels as he made for his own vacated seat. Like fuck was he getting involved with the convoluted schemes of a Kingsman.
"The pay of which is five gold pieces." Roy snorted. "A day." Roy froze just as quickly as the rising tankard that the inkeeper had brought over to The Keegan, as it made its way up towards the hideous man's lips. "What do you say?"
Should our unlikely hero accept the charge? Head over to the #FRCS channel on the discord to register your vote now.
