Rakhnar, Kelros, and Gareth sat at a table, drinking stale beer in a dingy old inn that the Black Scorpion gang used as their headquarters. Three gang members came walking through the worn wooden door of the inn, its hinges protesting with a weak squeal. They laughed as the Dwarf turned to the black-scale Dragon-Born. "Did you see the look on the boy's face when Belkor ripped off his mother's panties?" The Dwarf chuckled, "Yeah, the father went limp when I told him to shut up and watch, or the same was going to happen to his kid." Alkor the Dragon-Born told Hildar, "Well, now we've got some new customers. I left them some Uxsari." Hildar said. "Good work, you beast!" Alkor said to Belkor as he slapped him on the shoulder. "Work? That was all pleasure. I might go back and visit her. Maybe the family needs a reminder of what will happen if they don't shut their mouth." The half-orc said, chuckling to himself. "What are you newbies doing here?" Hildar asked the companions who were drinking their beer. Rakhnar looked at them quizzically, then down at his beer, "Drinking." He said with all honesty. Kelros was holding Gareth's wrist and shaking his head. Gareth breathed and sat back down. "What's his problem?" Alkor asked. Gareth's scowl instantly turned into a crooked smile. "A bit too many of these tasty beers." He grinned, showing his teeth. "Lightweight." The half-orc said with a grunt.
"So!" a deep bass voice asked. Out of the back room came a massive three-meter-tall hulking beast of a Minotaur, carrying a barrel of beer tucked under one of his muscular arms, his one unbroken horn almost touching the ceiling. "They ain't gonna talk. Might be a new customer thought." Haldir said, "Good. I have a job for the six of you. A new shipment of Dream Mist has arrived, and I need you to pick it up." He told the group, "Why so many? We three can do it," Alkor said. "Safety, what with the war going on? I don't want my stuff to get taken by some overenthusiastic rival. Now get to it."
The handover went by without a hitch. On their way back the gang members kept japing on about what they did to the family, and as they turned down a side alley, Gareth turned to the half-orc. "So you guys do that stuff all the time?" He asked the half-orc, "What stuff?" he replied, "You know, with the family and the wife." He said, "Yeah, the best way to make them do as they're told. The best part of the job." He said with a nasty grin, "Sometimes we have..." A blade pierced the half Orc's throat, his eyes widened in shock and horror. He tried to say something and grab the blade, but a horrible gurgling sound escaped his throat. Gareth expertly pulled the blade free and swung the short sword upwards with a vicious look on his face, slicing the Half-Orc's balls in two. A squeal of pain mixed with the gurgling sound; he collapsed to the ground. "What the fuck!” Haldir cursed and swung a meaty fist at Gareth, who tried to free his sword, but it had gotten stuck in the pelvic bone. The fist smashed into Gareth's face, knocking him to the ground and causing him to lose his grip on the sword. "Damn it!" Kelros said as he pulled out his Slug thrower, but the Dragon-born smashed a club into his hand, knocking it to the ground. It clattered onto the dirty cobblestone street. Rakhnar smashed his fist into the Dragon-born's face, but Alkor was tougher than he looked and took the blow. He followed up with a vicious swing of his iron-studded club, slamming it into Rakhnar's shoulder, then tried to smash him in the head. Rakhnar pulled his head back, but the club tip scraped across his forehead, removing some skin. He dropped the bag of Dream Mist he was carrying under his arm and snatched the club as the Dragon-Born came in for another swing.
Alkor tried to pull the club from his grip, but might as well have been trying to pull a tree out of the ground. "My turn!" Rakhnar said a wild look in his eyes. He jerked the club out of the Alkor's hand and, with his other hand, grabbed him around the throat. The Dragonborn desperately tried to pull the iron-like fingers from his throat; Rakhnar proceeded to smash his head in, while choking him to death. A loud BANG! Snapped him out of his butchery. The Dragon-Borns head was just a messy pulp covered in brains, blood, and scales. He dropped the body and turned towards the sound. Kelros was holstering his strange weapon. The Dwarf was ten feet away, lying face-first on the ground, blood pooling around the still form, with a neat little hole in the back of his head. Gareth went to the body and took out his knife, then started digging out the slug. "What the scourge are you doing?" Kelros asked. "Those chained guys jumped us." He said, as he finally took out the slug. "Ah, right. You should have given me a hint ." Kelros said. "Was a spur-of-the-moment thing."
Rakhnar ripped a piece of cloth from the dead Dragon-Born and wiped the mush off his hands. "So, what now?" he said looking slightly confused. Gareth rested his hand on Rakhnar's shoulder. "This is very important, Rakhnar. The chained gang jumped us; we managed to fight them off, but not before they killed those fuckers and ran off with the mist." He explains to the large Half-Orc, "But we killed them." Rakhnar said, "I know, but we will lie and say that the Chained gang did." Gareth explained to him. The young Tiefling could see the wheels in his friend's mind turning. "Okay," he said, nodding his head. "You think he is going to believe us?" Kelros asked. "Yeah, we're just going to have to mess each other up. Drakon is cunning but not that smart. So, let's get to it, shall we."
"Those fuckers, they were some of my best men. You get a good look at who attacked." Drakon asked the group. Gareth described those they had fought a few weeks ago. "Damn it!" the Minotaur slammed his fist onto the bar cracking the wood. "You three go and get yourself cleaned up. I ain't got anything for you. I need to gather the rest. I need you back here in two days. Keep your eyes sharp. They might decide to finish you all off. Bellock!" he shouted at the stocky green Dragon-Born sitting at the dingy table in the corner of the inn. "Get Zarkin to gather the gang." He gave a nod to the Minotaur and left.
"Well, that worked. Now, we need to talk to the others and see how things are going."
"He's alive!" Gareth said in a disbelieving tone, eyes wide. "Who's alive?" Rakhnar asked. "My brother was taken six years ago by the cult. I was sure he was dead, but Cloud just showed me this letter that the others found after they killed the Dalaken." He absently waved the letter in front of them. "Do you mind?" Kleros asked, pointing to the letter. Gareth shook his head and handed it to him. He quickly read it? "You know who this Maledor is?" he asked. "A wealthy merchant, one of the top leaders of the cult. He will probably bolt now that the Dalaken is dead." He said. "Where?" Kelros asked, "Don't know, but maybe the Scorpions do." He replied to Kleros, energetically, "You think they might know something?"
"Maybe not, but with the Dalaken dead and all the evidence everyone has gathered, they are probably panicked. We'll see," Gareth said as he nodded his head towards the shabby inn, thick smoke drifted out of the grimy stone chimney. A handful of hard-sinister-looking individuals were lounging outside, and another group of thick-necked half-orcs were leaving the inn. Walking down a filthy, shadow-shrouded side street snaking its way past the inn, disappearing into the dilapidated alleyways. Their yellow hooded eyes darting around warily. When the group approached a sneering green dragon born, smelling of old stale ale and old smoke, tried to stop the group, but another said they were the newbies and were good. "What's going on? Are we attacking someone?" Gareth asked a brawny-looking half-elf, cleaning his nails with a rusty dagger, "Boss got a big job from some bigwig."
"You three, you got weapons, armor?" Drakon asked, "Yeah, at home." Gareth said. Rakhnar grunted in agreement, and Kelros just looked down at his slug thrower. "Get your stuff and any healing potion you might have and meet up at dock Urag, pier 13, an hour after sundown tomorrow." He told them, his deep voice easily heard over the noise of the inn, then turned to talk to another group of cutthroats. "Eh, okay," Gareth said, slightly annoyed. They left the noisy and smoke-filled inn and walked towards Gareth's block. "This is perfect. I need to talk to Cloud. Meet me two hours before sundown at my place. It'll take at least an hour to get to the docks." The group split up as Garteh left for Cloud, Kelros, and Rakhnar walked to the Luna and Hope Inn.
"So Maldor is heading to the docks and has hired the Black Scorpions as muscle. I could probably get the Prime to get a dozen or so Verdun to ambush them. The best thing would be for you and your friends to meet with the gang. Then attack from within if you are up for it, and if they are?" Cloud asked Gareth, who was sipping a cold beer. " Yeah, they should be. I need him alive. I need to know what he did with my brother." Gareth said, looking into his beer as he spoke, tension in his voice, tight as a coiled spring. "I'll inform the Prime to pass that on." She told him, resting her hand on his forearm. "I'll give whatever help I can once this mess is sorted." She told him, and Gareth looked up and smiled at her. "Thanks. Well, time to get to work." He said, the tension leaving his voice, Gareth gulped down the rest of the beer. "Good luck." Could said "Diddo." He replied as he left her home.
Gareth, Rakhnar, and Kelors showed up at the pier where the salty tang was heavy in the humid summer air. One of them was Zarkin, Drakon steely-eyed second. "About time," Zarkin said to the three, steel in his tone. "All right, everyone, we're here to ensure none that ain't sposs to, enter pier thirteen. Our client needs to get on that boat out there." He pointed at a magnificent five-masted merchant ship, floating on the dark waters, the waters lapping against the thick, hulking hull of the ship. With its tree-like masts swaying in the waves, the light from the lighthouse painted one side of the ship a dull yellow light, casting the rest in shadows. "Where are they?" One of the thugs demanded. "On their way, they'll be here soon. Keep an eye out." Zarkin replied in an ice-cold tone. Gareth, Rakhnar, and Kelros could feel the tension in the air; Gareth rubbed his sweaty palms on his rough leather jacket, Rakhnar stifled a yawn of boredom, and Kelros rested against the cold, dank warehouse wall, looking bored. "How the hell do they look so calm?" Gareth thought to himself, feeling the familiar knot tightening his stomach, while he looked at the face of hard and merciless men waiting. "Hey, someone is coming." A bronze dragon-Born with a nasty scar, hissed. "That's them make way for…" His words died on his lip, as Rakhnar, with incredible speed, leaped up to Zarkin, his massive great axe raised high above his head, the light from a torch gleaming off the honed blade edge of the axe, and split Zarkins skull in two. Everything went deadly quiet, the only sound that of the creaking boats, the flapping of canvas and the lapping of water against the shore. The wheels of a wagon whined as they came to a stop. A primal roar of rage exploded across the docks and the dark seas, as armed creatures with grey cloaks swarmed from the shadows. "Ambush!" Someone bellowed, as blade met blade and flesh, the spray of blood giving birth to a crimson sea of violence; a half-elf thrust a rusty knife towards Gareth's face; he easily stepped to the left, the blade passing by his face, and clubbed the man on the side of the head with the pommel of his sword; he crumpled to the ground. A dwarf had knocked a Verdun to the ground and was about to brain him when Gareth's short sword took him in the heart through the back. He reached down to help up the fallen Verdun when instincts that had saved him a dozen times screamed in his mind. He jumped to the side and rolled over some wooden crates, instantly followed by three thuds and a gurgling sound. He peeked over the side and saw two Dragon-Born and a Stone genasi loading heavy crossbows, the light from the lighthouse gleaming off thick shafted bolts. The Verdun had gotten a bolt in the throat, his body convulsing as he died, blood bubbling in his mouth and running down his cheeks. Three loud cracks sounded in the air, and the crossbow wielders dropped to the ground, blood splattering the air behind them, painting the waterlogged wood of the docks. Something flew over his head and smashed into the warehouse wall five feet behind him; the half-elf slid down the sturdy walls, a rivulet of something dark smearing the wall, his head at an unnatural angle. He heard another roar of rage and saw Rahknar swing his axe in a wide arc, his face painted with blood, and the axe blade glistened crimson, he cut down two Steeleye men. Behind him, bodies started flying, the wood under his feet vibrated as he saw the massive Minotaur charging for Rahknar. “Rahaknar behind you!” Gareth screamed, tasting copper as he stopped. The Half-orc spun around,brinning the axe shaft up to protect himself. Drakons struck him with brutal savage force, the thick wooden shaft creaked in protest, and Rahknar was sent flying toward Gareth. Who threw himself aside as the half-orc smashed through the crates and into the wall next to the dead half-elf. Rahknar shook his head in a daze just as the Minotaur charged in, readying his massive axe for a downward swing, trying to split the half-orc in half. "Fuck!" Gareth said as he tried to hamstring the Minotaur; someone smacked into him, causing his blade to go high; it sliced open the muscular thigh of the Minotaur who screamed in rage and swung a massive fist into Gareth's side; the blow smashed into his shoulder and rattled his teeth, he rolled with the blow. Just in time, a massive axe blade swooshed where his head would have been. "Shit!" he cursed, as Drakons focus was now on him; he swung his axe toward Gareth, who dived towards him and between the Minotaur's thick legs, at the same time slicing the Minotaur's just above the calf. He spun around, swinging his blade in a downward arc; the sword cut into the minor's back, at the same time a massive hoofed foot slammed into Gareth's chest. He felt something crack; the wind was knocked out of him as he was sent flying. He looked up in a daze and saw death coming for him. The axe blade pinged, and instead of splitting him in two, the blade struck the wood of the docks next to him, splintering it. Some of the splinters shot into his face. Gareth could see his bloody face reflecting off the blade of the axe, eyes wide. Ignoring the pain, he rolled to his side, then flipped to his feet, with a grunt, as the axe struck the ground where he had been. "Stand still!" Drakons shouted in frustration and angre, "Fuck you!" Gareth rasped, breathing heavily, each breath sent a stabbing pain into his left side. He winced as he stepped back from the Minotaur, who smiled at seeing this. "Now you.." Drakon spun around, taking Rakhnar's blow on the thick haft of his oversized weapon. Rahknar kicked the inside of the Minotaur’s knee, causing him to buckle, then headbutted the Bastard, causing Rhaknar's head to snap back. "That was..", Drakon laughed as he shouted, his words cut short as Rahknar swung the butt of his axe into the Minotaur's face, then leaped back, swinging the axe in a vicious horizontal arc. Drakons caught the axe blade on the haft of his weapon and, with brutal strength, pulled Rahknar towards him. Who thrust the axe head forward, smashing the iron blade into Drakon's upper chest, knocking the wind out of him. The Minotaur stumbled back. Gareth took the opportunity to stab the blade into his side. The blade cut into the thick leather armour around his waist and when he pulled the sword back only the tip of the weapon had blood on it. Drakons swung his massive axe in a huge circular arc with incredible speed. Gareth leaped backward, knowing he could never block such a powerful blow. He felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder and saw a knife sticking out. He looked up just in time to watch Drakons iron shodden butt of the axe shaft smacked into his forehead. Light exploded before Gareth's eyes, and he stumbled back. There was a loud boom, and the air cracked, there was a ping of metal against metal, followed by the roar of rage from Rahknar. The half-orc summoned spectral creatures, pale luminescent half-orcs, that swarmed towards the Minotaur, forcing him to face Rahknar. They fought a vicious battle in the sea of bodies, each one trying to dismember the other, trying not to slip on the slick blood-covered docks. Rahnkar sliced open the flesh of the Minatour's arm, the act leaving him exposed. The Minotaur grinned a bloody grin, he punched the half-orc in the face, then kicked him with his powerful hoofed feet. The half-orc tumbled backwards with a grunt. Drakon swung towards his head, trying to remove it. He reacted faster than expected? The massive axe blade split open the upper part of the half orcs leather armour and left a nasty horizontal gash above his chest. Avoiding the death blow had put Rahknar off balance, and Drakon used that opportunity to kick him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Dazed Rahknar landed on his ass and tried to bring his weapon up to block the downward strike of the Minotaur's axe, but he knew that he would not be fast enough. Something buzzed over Rahknar's head and struck the Minotaur in the shoulder; blood blossomed there, and the axe, instead of splitting Rahknar's head, opened his leather armor in a vertical slash down to his chest, then bounced off the rest and crashed into the wooden docks. Rahknar used the opportunity to swing his axe, one-handed, in a wild swing towards the Minotaur.Drakon had to let go of his axe to avoid the blow. The half-orc quickly got to his feet and swung the axe downward, ready to split the defenseless Minotaurs' head in two. Drakon snatched one of his men by the waist and hoisted him screaming into the air to take the axe blow from the Half Orc, the axe bit deep into the Half-elf's chest, his screams becoming a gurgle. Rahknar tried to pull the axe out when something wet struck his eyes. He felt something buzz by his ear, and more wetness struck him. The Half-orc stepped back, wrenching his axe free of the body, and swung it in front of him defensively. He wiped his eyes, realizing it was blood. He readied himself for a charging Drakon, but the Minotaur was nowhere to be seen, and neither was his axe. Someone touched his arm, and he turned, ready to destroy the fool, only to realize that Gareth was speaking to him. Something deep, ancient, and savage in Rhaknar growled, wanting more blood. The half-orc clenched his jaw, regaining control of his mind and body. "What!" He growled at the Tiefling, who stepped back, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "I said," he calmly and clearly said, "It's over."
"We won?" Rhaknar asked, bewildered. "Sort of. The battle is over, but the bastard got away." Gareth pointed towards the hulking ship whose sails were unfurled, and straining as the summer winds pulled the ship towards the open seas; five Verdun were getting a boat into the waters, when suddenly a wall of flame exploded on the water, day turned to night for a split second, as the blast of heat struck everyone on the docks, their cloaks snapping from the force of it, forcing them to avert their eyes. "Magic!" Rhaknar shouted. "Nah, oil," Gareth said calmly and pointed towards a bunch of empty barrels lying on the beach, black liquid dripping from one. "What now?" Kelros asked as he walked out of the shadows, his long-nosed slug thrower resting on his shoulder; he had some blood on his face, but other than that, he looked fine. "I need to follow him or at least find out where he is going. Then go after him. I could use some help when the time comes." Gareth said, looking towards his two companions, with uncertainty in his posture. "I'll help you hunt this man." Rahknar said, "I need to talk to my boss. I'll see what I can do, no promises." Kelros told Gareth. " I need to check on Cloud and update her on what's happened". Gareth said, looking around at the carnage they had just survived.
The lieutenant of the Verdun, a silver Dragonborn briefed Rahknar, Kelros, and Gareth. A few of the Scorpions had gotten away, including their leader. They captured four corrupted Verdun and four Scorpions; the rest had been killed. They lost six Verdun in the fights, and three were badly injured but would survive. The merchant and Merrill, the traitorous Dargon-born Verdun Lieutenant, had escaped on the ship. He thanked them for their help and shook hands.
Gareth split with Kelros and Rahknar in the Last Stand. "I need to talk to Ash. I'll see you later." Kelros told Rahknar. Rahknar nodded tiredly in response and walked to the Luna and Hope Inn to enjoy a cold beer, warm meat, and good company.