The group continued their trek in a heavy silence, back through the lush tunnel, around a few bends and up a spiralling passageway so long it barely felt like it was curving at all. It led into a small, squarish room with only a single light crystal in the centre of the ceiling, its faint blue light barely illuminating a large rusted hatch on the opposite wall, barely bigger than Mona's bulky frame. Their detour had left them with roughly 7 hours and some change until Lucy would receive the signal that the hold-up was underway, so for now they made themselves as comfortable as they could in the barren chamber. Mona immediately began prying up the large, once-polished floor tiles and placing them in stacked rows, making a few low benches and an uneven table as the others watched in amusement. All except Quinn, as his mind hadn’t quite left the pit of loathing that dwelled in the depths of his heart, leaving him to sit by the entrance while he fiddled with one of the remaining pitons he had stuffed in his pocket after the climb. As Lucy and Mona pulled out the remaining foods and set the “table”, he felt a clawed hand gently pat his head as Argus slid down to sit next to him.
“You know, it’s not very often I get to meet a heretic. So… what’s it like? Have any pamphlets on how to disobey the gods? Do you have meetings and chat about blood sacrifices?” Argus asked with a sarcastic tone in his voice, causing the ghost of a smile to appear on Quinn's lips.
“It’s more of an informal thing, when we talk in groups we tend to get struck by lightning or burned at the stake.” Quinn said back, trying to sound equally as derisive, but it came out more bitter than he intended. Argus chuckled and put his slender arm over his shoulder, putting the side of his broad head against Quinn’s small face. Quinn wasn’t often one for physical affection, just like his brother, but feeling the smooth, cold scales on his skin was oddly comforting. He could feel the subtle ridge that ran from the edge of his thin lips all the way along the side of his head, reminding Quinn that Argus could open his mouth much, much wider than he usually did. Scalekin rarely did so, as it made them seem more monstrous and less approachable to the other humanoid races. They thrived on seduction and personability, so being reminded they could fit your entire head in their mouth (and possibly more, in the case of Quinn) probably wasn’t the best for fostering inter-species relations.
“We know how you feel… or we understand it, at least. The gods are divisive and single-minded, caring only for their own followers and their own desires, with anything else being ignored, despised or simply destroyed. Many are capricious and most are cruel, and all are disconnected from the suffering and hardship their actions can cause.” Argus said quietly, glancing at Mona in case she overheard his harsh words on the divine. Quinn looked surprised, before nodding in agreement.
“They make the rules we have to follow, but don’t follow them themselves. They force us to walk the paths they choose, but leave themselves free to do as they please. They punish us for the sin of wanting more, while taking everything they can and leaving nothing but pain for us. They’re no better than rich, sadistic mortals.” Quinn muttered, his hands clenching into fists as his knuckles turned white.
“The Divine Broodmother isn't any different, you know. She’s violent and vengeful, and despises weakness above all else. She created my people to be warriors and seducers, to weaken the other races with our charms and venoms, all to avenge a crime so long ago that no one alive is sure when it happened.” Argus said with a sigh, his gaze distant as he seemed to be considering his own words.
“Then why do you worship her? It sounds like she made you to be another tool for her own ends, to be expendable.” Quinn's questioning interrupted his pondering, their eyes meeting as he sighed again.
“We’re all expendable to the gods, Quinn. We grow, we age, we die, and they don’t. They’re eternal beings, and we’re only temporary. Even if I reach a level that lets me live thousands, even tens of thousands of years, the gods will still be there long, long after I’m gone. That's what separates the mortal from the divine. Time. They see and know things far above what we can comprehend, with plans so complex and interwoven it would take lifetimes upon lifetimes to unravel the smallest corner of just one of their tapestries. I may not be particularly pious or faithful, and I might not always agree with what she thinks is best for our people, but I take pride in being part of her tapestry. A part of something bigger, even if I’m only a footnote in the history of the scalekin.” Argus said with a smile, before standing up and offering Quinn a clawed hand.
“Maybe I would feel the same, if I had a tapestry to be a part of too.” Quinn half-mumbled as he took his hand, the larger scalekin easily pulling him to his feet as they started towards the makeshift table.
“Maybe you do, and you just haven’t seen it yet.” Argus said back with a wink, before flicking him on his long ear. “Come on, we’ve got a while to wait and I have cards to fleece you with. We can use nuts and berries instead of coins, it’s not like we brought any with us anyway.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Quinn said with a matching smile, but inside he was filled with uncertainty. Was there really a plan for him? He doubted it. From what he had seen, he was a lone mouse caught in a vast machine of cogs and gears, and the only thing he could do was run for his life or get squished. There was no more path for him than that of a common street thief, expected to die long before reaching level 15. Now that he had reached the cap at level 10, he was stuck, at least until he completed a class quest and raised his level cap, but who knows when, or even if he would receive one. He had met people that had been waiting and searching for a class quest for years, even decades, and there was no guarantee you would ever get one, no matter how hard you tried. There was always an end to every path, and Quinn had always known how his was likely to end. He was willing to die, because it meant Clay would finally be free. He wouldn’t be around to hold him back anymore.
Time passed rather quickly as they mock-gambled with their remaining foodstuffs, and as expected, Argus reigned supreme with a small mountain of berries that he had to protect from the deft hands of Lucy and Quinn when he wasn’t looking. They mostly talked about the future, such as their plans for if the job went as they all hoped, with them getting rich and the nobles getting screwed. Mona would open her own inn, with her acting as manager, bouncer and repairwoman for when things (and customers) inevitably got broken in barfights and scuffles. Argus would set up his own underground gambling house, starting with his absolute favourite first: roulette. Lucy was more practical; she would start renting an office and act as a private investigator, something she had always wanted but had never had the capital to get off the ground. And Quinn? He was undecided. It was harder for him, as he couldn’t simply rent or own property in the city without his class being discovered, causing a cavalcade of problems to roll his way. He would probably give it all to Clay, and let him deal with the official business. The shadows and grey areas were his expertise, and he was happy to leave it that way. At least, he pretended to be happy about it. As Mona was about to deal another hand, Lucy froze, before tapping the table to get their attention and pointing to her earstud, which was now pulsing with a soft, orange light. It was time.
“Is it ready?” The masked man asked as he looked into the swirling portal. It was floating a few inches off the ground, its edges throwing off rainbow-coloured sparks as the image on the other side kept shifting. A grassy meadow, a barren rooftop, a derelict alleyway, a sewer tunnel, it shifted over and over as the woman beside it tampered with a crystal coated in intricate lines of flowing mana. Her frizzy red curls were matted to her forehead as runes danced across her focused eyes, the outside world shut out completely as she worked on her masterpiece. She was so close, she just needed to…
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“There!” She gasped as she fell backwards, panting with relief as a pair of large, scaled hands caught her and handed her a mana potion. The crystal stayed in the air as the masked man pulled it towards him with an outstretched hand, inspecting the complex etchings winding along its surface. An unseen grin spread across his scarred face as he patted the air towards the drained woman. Her hair ruffled in sync with his movements, the weary smile on her face quickly vanishing as she greedily guzzled down the expensive potion in her hands. In moments, she was completely topped off with mana, although she could feel she couldn’t take another for quite a while due to its potency.
“You’ve done so well, Tina, none of this would have been possible without you. Is the beacon still active, Shanks?” The masked man’s praise was short and sweet as he turned to the large scalekin that had caught the pale, freckled human. Her emerald green scales were chipped and marred, with three old slashes like the talons of a giant hawk leading from her right shoulder to her left hip. It was a sign of being outcast from scalekin society; a permanent reminder of her past sins. Her yellow eyes closed as she checked her connection to the beacon. It was weak and fuzzy, and it felt like she was pushing her mind through treacle to reach it, but she could still feel it. Her Tracker’s Trap skill was the backbone of their way in and out of the auction, with the ever-so-clever Tina using it as a conduit to pierce through the magical warding. It would be a terrible strain on both of their minds to hold the portal long enough for them to get through, but they wouldn’t dare show hesitation. Not in front of him.
“The line is thin but holding, and we should be able to maintain it long enough for us to get through. The way back will be much easier, as long as the beacon isn’t destroyed.” She kept her answer brief, as they were running out of time. The others were already waiting, standing in an orderly row like silent, masked soldiers behind the imposing figure before her. His dark robes flowed around him as he guided the dimensional storage crates towards the portal’s edge, each one open and ready to be filled with every drop of loot they could wring out of the disgusting whelps they were about to so rudely barge in on. As Tina steadily got to her feet, she found herself gently sliding across the room to stand beside her leader, effortlessly moved by the force of his will. His tall frame was topped with elven ears that turned black towards the tips, and sickly yellow hair curled out and around his masked face like coiled vines. All she could see of his eyes were piercing white orbs, with the rest of his features hidden behind an ornate wooden mask, carved to resemble a non-descript elven male with a neutral expression.
“Everyone, today is the first step towards true freedom. Today, our oppressors will see that we are not so easily put down. They will see us standing tall, united, rallied against them and fighting for the people they have judged to be lesser. To be weak. Together, we will change this world for the better! Who here is with me!” The small crowd burst into applause and rallying cries as their leader spoke, his usually soft voice now loud and strong, a lighthouse of confidence leading them to a brighter future. He would lead them to salvation. He would lead them to victory. Tina knew this in her heart; that they would win, as long as they had him. As the cheers died down, his head tilted towards her, and she could hear the smile on his face as he spoke.
“Tina, my dear, would you please do me the honour and form the bridge with Shanks here.” He said, his voice now calm and reassuring as he floated the crystal towards her. Shanks was ready, kneeling in front of Tina as the pale woman placed a hand on her scaled head. She pulled the mask on the back of her head over her face and, with one last glance at the portal, closed her eyes and prepared for the pain to take her. This was the most nerve-wracking part, but she steeled her nerve as she reached through Shanks to connect the two spatial beacons, her modifications and the scalekin’s skill the only reason they didn't explode from the strain, taking her and Shanks with them. She just hoped Lucy would stick to their plan, otherwise…
“And this piece right here is a wonderfully crafted item from the talented hands of the renowned Balghrak Thistledum, touted as one of the finest jewelers in over a century! His mastery of spatial magic has truly coalesced into this magnificent crystal, allowing it to-” Garik sighed internally as he put as much false excitement into his voice as he could, waving his hands as he described the magical properties of the far too gaudy lump of glorified rock. This was only the 3rd item brought out for the wine-sucking pigs in front of him, and most of them were already drunk, with some having to have their servants and bodyguards bid for them in their stead. The giant ballroom was filled with glass cases and display tables covered in all manner of magical treasures and expensive wares, things that he couldn't afford in a hundred lifetimes of playing his god-forsaken role. Sometimes he wished someone would barge in and kill them all, or him, just so he didn't have to listen to their entitled prattling. As arms and voices raised to try and claim the embellished gem, the price already rocketing to over 50,000 gold, his silent prayer for release was unfortunately answered.
RRRRRIIIIIIIIIPPPPPP!!
A terrible tearing sound echoed throughout the room as the demon auctioneer was suddenly ripped in two down the middle, his flesh and innards exploding in an explosion of gore that painted the stage and front row of attendees red with blood. A horned head with light purple skin landed with a splat on a noble’s lap, causing the drunken dwarf to scream and fall backwards out of his chair as his guards raised their shields to cover his embarrassment. The room was filled with cries of fear and the clanging of weapons being drawn as everyone stared at what had appeared before them. A shimmering portal was now at the centre of the stage, edges sparking like it was being held to a grindstone. An attendant rushed towards a discreet panel by one of the back walls, sliding it away to reveal a hidden distress beacon, the one her manager had told her would never be needed, her now dead manager. Just before her fingers could reach its crystalline surface, she felt sluggish, almost heavier. In an instant, her body was crushed like an ant being stepped on by a giant, completely flattened to the ground and compressed as blood began to pool around what was once an elf. A tall man wearing a mask had stepped through the portal, holding out his hand and clenching his fist in the air in front of him before the attendant could even react. He straightened his robe and took a deep bow, before looking down at the now silent crowd.
“Greetings, ladies, gentlemen and other-such-folk. So… shall we begin?”.
Quinn looked up from the rusted hatch that was now bent and warped, its edges curved outwards after being pried up and simply yanked off the stone wall. The glow of Mona’s hands was slowly fading as they all stood in the dark opening, with Quinn the only one that could truly pierce its depths. There was a short passage leading to a spiralling staircase, with the light crystals on the walls having long run out of mana and leaving it completely black inside. Quinn stared into that darkness, feeling his anxiety building as he struggled to step forward.
“Nervous?” Mona asked gently as she put her massive hand on Quinn’s small shoulder. He glanced up, seeing the knowing smile on her face as he begrudgingly nodded his head.
“I’m just… worried I’ll mess up, somewhere in there… that I’ll drag you down.” Before Mona could offer reassurance, another voice chimed in instead.
“It’s normal to be nervous, but at least don’t be a buzzkill! We’re going to be rich!” A grinning Argus lightly slapped him on the back, getting a light slap himself from Lucy as she too put her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. She gave him a soft pat, and Mona gave him a harder one, with Argus joining in and ruffling his hair from behind as she once more tried to speak, this time eyeing Argus to stop him interrupting.
“We can’t do this without you, Quinn. We’re either all goin' in, or all goin' home. Either way, we’ll be together. So, what'll it be?” Her voice was calm and questioning, but she already knew what his answer would be.
“...Fuck it, let’s go.”.
