Grimoires and Gunsmoke

Elijah and Azeline shared a pensive look before their focus shifted from the literal behemoth marching towards them to the scrappy-looking sun elf woman with dark hair and a tanned complexion that spoke of her time working the fields.

As the sun elf stepped forward, she clapped her hands together, a wide smile spreading across her face. Her short ears twitched slightly as she looked at her pale-skinned human counterpart, who simply scowled before running a hand over his bald head.

"You must be the fellows Mara wanted us to meet!" the elf exclaimed in a friendly tone tinged with disdain. "I'm Ferei, and this is…” Ferei paused as she looked at the bald man with undisguised disdain. “My… associate, Brak."

Arching an eyebrow up, Elijah's gaze shifted between the two kingpins. He knew the type - rivaling gang bosses, each vying for control of their little slice of the town. They must have had some outstanding turf disputes or had a few deals go sour but deemed it too costly to go to war. However, the fact that they were here together, putting on a show of cooperation, albeit very poor, spoke volumes about Mara's influence.

Ferei flicked her eyes over Elijah and Azeline, calculating them. "I have to say…” she scoffed while narrowing her eyes. “I was surprised when Mara asked us to come out here. Normally, we conduct our business in a more civilized setting."

The way she said 'civilized' made it clear that she considered this meeting was far beneath her. The woman’s tone was friendly, but there was an undercurrent of disrespect. It was obvious that Ferei considered the mere fact she was dragged out of her haven to meet a few strangers that she thought of as nobodies an insult.

“But, I suppose we all have to make sacrifices from time to time," Ferei continued, her smile not quite reaching his eyes. "I just hope this isn't a waste of our valuable time. We have much more… important things to do, after all."

Brak grunted in agreement, his arms crossed over his chest. “Ya better make this shite boy or yer gonna have to answer to my green friend here.” His eyes bore into Elijah and Azeline with barely concealed hostility. “Mara friend or not, I’ll fuckin’ brain ya”

Azeline couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she looked over to Elijah, expecting him to turn on his charm and start working his magic on the two gang leaders.

With a disarming smile and a placating gesture, Elijah stepped forward with his hands raised in a conciliatory manner. "Guys, guys, guys," he said in a friendly and soothing voice. "I’m not here to cause any problems, I’m just here for business, okay?”

He turned to Ferei and bowed his head. "And I think everyone wouldn’t say no to making a coin or two." Elijah continued trying to simmer the hostilities down just a little. “These are tough times, after all.”

Ferei's eyes narrowed at the stranger. "And what exactly do I have to gain by doing business with some nobody outsider?" she asked carefully. Any meeting set up by Mara always had strings attached and always involved power players, so Ferei’s suspicions weren’t entirely dispelled by the subservient attitude.

"Aye, why in the infinite hells would we be doin' business with some scrappy idiot too scared to show his face?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. His eyes locked onto Elijah and Azeline, filled with barely concealed hostility. "Coward or not, I'll bash your skull in."

Elijah chuckled, the sound warm and disarming. "Look, I get it," he said, his tone conciliatory. "Imperials clamped down hard, the Gilded Couriers had fallen apart, your alliances in town broke down, and everyone’s at each other's throat.” He explained, keeping his hands held in a magnanimous fashion with his palms facing towards the gangs to show he meant no harm. “The few reasonable individuals, like yourselves, have had to join hands just to keep the rabid dogs at bay."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "But it doesn't have to be this way. There's still opportunity out there, still a chance for everyone to do a little more business and make a little more money."

A short, contemplative hum left Ferei's mouth as she considered Elijah's words. Times were indeed hard, but she wasn't in a position to openly express that due to her already tentative position. With the lack of money came the lack of satisfaction. The lack of satisfaction came with the lack of credibility in her own gang, and she knew it was the same for Brak.

"What you sayin', boy? You think I can't pay my boys?" With a hiss, Brak stepped forward, challenging Elijah while raising his hand and revealing a strange tattoo that glowed with an eerie light. "You implyin' I can't make money 'round these parts?" Brak's voice was laced with offense.

Turning to the hulking Orc at his side, Brak barked and glowered at the giant. "The fuck ye, doing filthy beast, daw yer damned weapon!"

As the words left his mouth, the tattoo on Brak's hand pulsed, causing a hidden mark on the Orc's neck to glow a gentle red. The Orc shifted uncomfortably, a grimace of pain and reluctance crossing his brutish features, but he obeyed nonetheless. With a grunt, the Orc reached over his shoulder, pulling free a massive club that looked more like a log than a weapon.

A thunderous thud echoed out as the tip of the makeshift weapon slammed into the ground after being brought to bear.

Azeline clicked her tongue and drew her sword as she stared the beast down with disdain written on her face. it was clear that the monster could easily wield the improvised cudgel with devastating force, and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t know if she’d come out on top while protecting Elijah at the same time.

Meanwhile, Ferei crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes as a small smile played at her lips. This was exactly the kind of escalation she had hoped for, the kind of posturing and aggression that would out them as charlatans or push any negotiations they had in her favor.

But Elijah seemed unfazed. His hands went low to the hem of his hooded tunic, and his right foot went back as he held his ground, but his relaxed disposition remained the same as he faced down Brak's challenge.

The action seemed innocent enough to someone who had never seen the man draw that strange weapon he kept hidden at his waistband. But Azeline had seen the man draw it faster than she could blink and she knew the devastating powers of their magical weapons. These gaggle of idiots would most likely be dead before they could get within hand reach of the man, so this just left the orc if things went south.

"Now, now," Elijah spoke up in a gentle, chiding tone. "There's no need for that. We're all friends here, aren't we?" His eyes met with Azeline’s as they silently communicated and nodded at each other.

"Ain't no friend of mine, outsider." Brak snorted as he kept his arm raised.

Ferei herself scoffed and rolled her eyes at the notion of him being a friend before going back to sizing up this stranger. "I know your type," she snarled with a voice dripping with disdain. "You want to come in with a pitiful amount of copper, use us as your lackeys, and then disregard us when it's convenient."

She stepped forward aggressively as her hand pet the dagger at her hip. "You'll promise us the world, but in the end, you'll just bleed us dry and move on to the next bunch of fools willing to do your dirty work."

Elijah remained silent, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. Then, with a tilt of his head, he spoke. "Is that what the Gilded Couriers did to you?" The words made Ferei recoil as if struck. “Because it sounds like you’re speaking from experience. Fresh experience.”

Enraged scowls formed on every member from both gangs at the gut punch, but Elijah wasn't done. He had tried the diplomatic approach had extended the olive branch. But now, with weapons drawn and tempers flaring, it was time to play hardball.

"Come on, let's be real here," he continued with a chuckle. "You're struggling. You're at the end of your rope. You've had to ally with someone you hate," he gestured between Ferei and Brak, "and you're taking your marching orders from a whorehouse manager."

With her features twisting in rage, Ferei drew her dagger and started breathing heavily as she pointed at Elijah with a flapping mouth. Brak seemed to remain speechless with wide eyes at the gall of this stranger, considering he had a damned Orc slave in his possession. Around them, however, were thugs drawing their own weapons, unwilling to let such an insult go unanswered.

But before they could give the order to attack, Elijah's hand was already leaving his pocket. With a casual motion, he pulled out a single gold coin. "So let's not pretend you're not interested in business," Elijah continued, flipping it towards them.

The gleaming metal caught the light as it arced through the air until the coin landed on the ground with a soft clink, rolling across the uneven ground until it came not too far away from Brak's feet.

Elijah had just made a power move. It was to show that he wasn't coming to them as just another snake oil salesman looking to take advantage of their situation. No, Elijah was indicating that he was coming at them as a businessman with cold hard coin backing up his words.

“There are golden opportunities knocking," Elijah said as his posture shifted from conciliatory to commanding. “And that's just a taste," he continued, his hand floating back to the hem of this top. "A down payment for services rendered, if you will."

A tense silence seemed to take hold as every eye was drawn to the glittering gold piece on the ground. For the vast majority of the gang members, this was the most money they had ever seen in one place at one time.

Brak smacked his tongue hungrily, his hand starting to falter until it balled into a fist near his abdomen. Even Ferei, despite the direct insult, seemed to hesitate, her gaze locked on the gleaming metal.

She wasn't the smartest woman on the block, but she knew a precarious situation when she saw one. Money thrown around like this never came without strings attached. Whatever this outsider wanted, it was bound to come with a BIG one. Whatever he wanted would have consequences later down the line that she wouldn’t even be able to fathom if she survived it.

This notion also seemed to linger in Brak’s mind. The man’s greed was starting to overpower his better judgment. Slowly, he stepped forward, his eyes fixated on the coin like a moth to a flame. But before he could get too close, Elijah's voice rang out, causing the bald thug to halt in his tracks.

"I'm a firm believer in the principle that a fair day's pay deserves a fair day's work," Elijah said, his tone measured and calm. "I'm not here to cheat you or to use you and throw you away." He met Ferei's gaze, then Brak’s. "I'm here to offer your life back. A chance to take back control, to be the masters of your own fate once again."

Ferei's grip tightened on her dagger, but she didn't strike. Not yet. There was something in Elijah's words, in his demeanor, that gave her pause. "And what exactly would this... opportunity entail?" she asked, her voice tight with suspicion.

A predatory grin spread beneath ELijah’s mask as he continued. “The flow of goods in, out, and even through this shithole has been strangled to death.” He spoke in a mysterious manner as he turned around and started pacing, but still gripped his wrist tightly near his waistband. “I’m a consultant whose goal is to facilitate the…” Elijah paused as he carefully chose his next few words. “Restructuring of this town's power dynamics.”

The two kingpins scrunched their faces and furrowed their brows in confusion as they tried to make sense of the outsider's words. It was clear that the concept of 'facilitating the restructuring of power dynamics' was a bit beyond their understanding.

"What in the infinite hells is that s'posed to mean?" Brak grunted in a frustrated and suspicious tone. "Ye here to kill them other bosses or somethin’?"

Elijah opened his mouth to respond and clarify his intentions, but before he could get a word out, another voice cut through the air.

"He ain't here to do nothin'!"

A rowdy, rough-looking man from Ferei's camp stepped forward, his face twisted in a dubious scowl. He was a burly figure with a scar running down the middle of his face and a mop of greasy hair. Everything about him screamed knuckle dragging scumbag, from his tattered clothing to the crude knife at his belt.

"Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap! That's all we have been doin' since we got here!" He gestured animatedly in frustrated impatience before turning his ire towards Ferei. He pointed a dull, crude sword at the woman in an accusatory manner, "An' you! Wot the ‘ell ye be doin!?” He shouted in obvious challenge, shooting spittle everywhere. “Ye ain't done nothin' but slurp this idjit drivel!"

The messy-haired thug then jabbed an accusatory finger Brak as his eyes went wide and wild. "We got a gods-damned Orc, an' there's only two of 'em! The hell y'all doin'?!" Turning towards the masked stranger and his blond elven companion, the thug’s sword now pointed in their direction. "I say we gut 'im! He must got more if he be throwin' gold around like it's copper!"

Ferei's face darkened at the murmur of agreement among her gang’s members. Even though there was a blatant challenge to her authority, the small rebellion seemed to strike a cord. She gritted her teeth at the insult but made no move to intervene. The woman decided to use this impromptu coup d'état as a test—an opportunity to see what this stranger was made of.

If he put this rabid dog down, then she'd know he was the real deal. And if the stranger fell... well, she'd slit her treacherous subordinate's throat herself and cement her place as the true leader.

As the gang hooted and hollered, the insubordinate thug started to get riled up as he started to swagger toward Elijah and Azeline with a lecherous grin on his face. His eyes raked over Azeline's form, a vile hunger in his gaze.

"And when we're done with 'im," he leered, licking his lips, "I'm gonna have me a taste of that pretty little thing. Ain't had good eatin' in a while."

Azeline, however, didn't seem content to let some dirty mongrel go on about how he’d force himself onto her. So, with a growl, she stepped forward, twirling her sword around to make a show of taking his head. But before she could do so, Elijah leisurely lifted his hand to stop her in her tracks.

What happened next was almost too fast for anyone other than Azeline to follow.

In the blink of an eye, Elijah's shirt snapped up as he pulled a strange black object from his waistband. A deafening and thunderous crack caused the approaching thug to crumple to the ground immediately. He fell like a puppet with its strings cut, his body stiffening like a board before toppling over like a sack of potatoes.

The thug’s body posture didn’t change as he hit the ground. His body stayed in its locked state before eventually relaxing while a rapidly building pool of blood spread beneath his head.

For a moment, there was only shocked silence. Everyone stared at the fallen man as he remained motionless before their eyes shifted to Elijah with a mix of fear and awe.

“Gods… he has a mana weapon…” Ferei murmured, hardly believing what she had just witnessed. She had seen magic before and had even worked with a few fledgling mages when the Association was still in power. But this... this was something else entirely.

It had seemed that this… mana user had just struck down someone without any gestures, incantations, or anything. The man seemed to just snuff out her subordinate’s life with a casual ease that was terrifying to behold.

Slowly, the gathered gangs started to back away, their earlier bravado evaporating in the face of this display of power. They looked at each other nervously while silently reassessing the man they had thought to challenge.

Elijah's casual demeanor had vanished and was replaced with a cold, piercing glare that swept over the gang members. His mood had clearly soured, and his eyes were filled with cold, contemptuous anger. "if this is the kind of dissent you allow amongst your ranks," he growled in a low and dangerous voice, "then perhaps I have chosen my potential partnerships poorly."

Ferei flinched, and her face paled at the rebuke. She opened her mouth as if to defend herself, but no words came out. What could she say? Elijah was right. She had allowed this situation to escalate, and her authority was challenged by this dangerous stranger.

Brak also seemed to be cowed by Elijah's words. But his Orc's posture remained tense, seemingly oblivious to what was being discussed around him.

Slowly, deliberately, Elijah raised his hand to his ear. "We're good; stand by," he said into his earpiece in English so the assembled thugs couldn’t understand.

As his hand came down, Elijah kept his gaze cold as he continued to assess Ferei and Brak, checking if he needed to drop the orc with a well-placed shot from a sniper to have an even greater effect. "I came here expecting to deal with professionals," he said, each word dripping with disdain. “Was I mistaken?"

The accusatory question hung in the air, but the only response was a tense silence. No one seemed eager to speak up or follow their fallen comrade's example and test their luck any further, since it seemed the outsider was capable of doing whatever he did more than once.

Elijah let the silence stretch as he scanned the group for any signs of anyone else stepping forward to catch a bullet. And after a few moments, it became apparent that there would be no further challenges.

As he slowly holstered his weapon, Elijah glanced at Azeline and saw a huge smug smile plastered across her face. Shaking his head, he turned back to the two bosses, "You have three days," he said, casually bending over and picking up the spent casing. "Three days to get your houses in order, talk amongst yourselves or do whatever it is you people do"

He then started to walk away, Azeline falling into step beside him, taking up a spot on Elijah's flank, facing towards the group of gangsters. The woman kept her sword resting on her shoulder as she stared hard at the thugs, daring them to make a move as they walked past.

"If you can't manage that," Elijah called over his shoulder, "then I'll find someone who can." he finished, leaving the gangs in a stunned, fearful silence as they disappeared around the corner.

Brak slowly and deliberately stepped forward and stooped to pick up the shiny golden coin resting tantalizingly on the ground. He stared at it for a long moment while his eyes remained unreadable as he turned the gleaming metal over in his fingers.

“What ye plannin’ to do?” He finally spoke, turning a hard gaze forward at Ferei.

Ferei didn’t answer immediately. Her mind was too busy trying to make sense of and process the events that had just transpired over the last few minutes.

It was simply too much to take in.

But she had to say something sooner rather than later. Ferei could feel the eyes of her crew on her. She felt their sense of unease and their growing doubt. They had seen her challenged, seen her authority so blatantly questioned out in the open. It was a dangerous position to be in. In this world, weakness was an invitation, a sign that one was ripe for the picking.

She needed to act decisively and show that she was still in control, still the one calling the shots. But at the same time, she couldn't ignore what had just happened. Couldn't pretend that this outsider left her with no choice, regardless of all its inherent risks.

Both Ferei and Brak knew that the promise of power and wealth was just as likely as a knife in the back—or, in this case, a magical bolt through one's brain. However, she still needed to say or do something, even if it was to buy time.

"I haven't decided," Ferei replied in a low but firm voice. "But I will. Soon."

Ferei took a deep breath before walking over to Brak and plucking the gold coin from his fingers. "50/50," she said to her rival, not looking at him as she studied the coin. "Agreed?"

Brak grunted, the sound neither agreement nor dissent, but Ferei knew he would comply. They were in the same sinking boat, and even though they had little choice, this was their only lifeline.

Turning to her crew, Ferei’s eyes went hard as she scrutinized them. After a few moments, the woman spat at her former subordinate, who was motionless on the ground. "Get rid of this piece of shite," she ordered, gesturing to the body with her chin. "And keep your mouths shut about what happened here."