Life Prologue: In The Shadow of the Keep - B
A gale of cold air ruptured the peaceful and warm night. Everyone immediately looked over at the two figures. At their presence, all action had stopped. These two were not like anyone else. Shining felt awkward with everyone on him. Peccavi in contrast grinned brighter. 'They’re all watching us. Shinning thought. Who are we. Why are we here. What kind of hell are we bringing.' He calmed his racing thoughts.' Locate the faces. Finish the request. Continue the mission.' “Hello gentlemen.” They both turned. Behind the bar and in front of a row of bottles stood an immovably large man. He lacked a single follicle of hair, giving him the look of a solid mass. No muscle or blood, just rolls of dough. “If you’d like a drink- “I wouldn’t” Shining said to the fat man. Usually Shining Mask would have been revolted by such a creature. Today though he felt nothing. One thought went through his mind. 'Not my target.' The fat man continued talking, but Shining could not hear him. He walked through the crowded tables, glancing over the faces. In this smokey room it was hard to see faces clearly. Every candle flicker showed someone new. 'Sit and wait. Let the parasite work. Someone will get nervous, that is my target.' Shinning took took a seat at the back of the room. If anyone wasn’t looking at him before they looked now. As they looked, he studied all of their faces. In a room with criminals among civilians, you can sense when someone doesn’t belong. You know immediately that this person is different from all others. Not driven by greed or anger, but a strange and unbending sense of justice. And when you are a criminal, nothing is more terrifying. Or at least it usually would be. Tonight though something much worse had entered with him. “You’ll have to excuse my traveling partner.” Peccavi said, “He’s only ever heard of people in theory. You, bar pig.” “My name is Kregier. This is my tavern.” The bar pig said with a scowl. Peccavi rolled his eyes. “Oink all you like.” He said. “My friend and associate is looking for someone. I meanwhile am looking for a particularly strong drink.” Kregier bit his bottom lip, clearly trying not to insult a potential customer. He reached down under the bar and retrieved a dusty glass bottle. “This is the strongest stuff I have.” Kregier said. “It’ll cost-- “It’s free. You’re giving it to me.” The words hung in the air. Everyone heard them, and they clung to their minds like a slime. Kregier’s beady eyes went blank. Slowly he nodded. “Yes. I am giving it to you. It’s a gift.” He handed the bottle to Peccavi. Peccavi pulled the cork out with his teeth and spit it on the floor. He took a long swig then spit it all over the bar pig. “This?” Peccavi wiped his mouth. “You need some fresher stuff my piggy friend. This stuff is shit!” He pat the bartender on the side of the head. “Go ahead and repeat that. Say ‘I sell shit.’” “I sell shit.” Kregier said. His voice was completely dead. “Very good.” Peccavi gave Kregier one more pat on the head and moved to one of the pool tables. He glanced back at the others. “Would any of you fine and outstanding gentlemen like to play a game with me?” None of them took him up on the offer. Peccavi shrugged. He pulled out a pool cue and began to play by himself. His companion by now had vanished into the background. People were beginning to get worked up by this bizarre man. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to play me.” Peccavi took the shot and scored. “I never miss. I know this table so well.” His next shot missed wide, only to swivel around and hit the ball. “Then again, I know lots of things. Like you Mr. Maego.” One of the men closest to the table glanced up. “Excuse me?” Peccavi took another shot, again missing and again swinging around to hit. Peccavi grinned. If you have magic, might as well use it. “You Mr. Maego are quite a prolific rapist. You should be quite proud of yourself. I would be, satisfy no one so satisfy yourself.” A thin man sitting beside Maego looked at him and began laughing. “I wouldn’t laugh Mr. Roth. You’re guilty of first degree murder. You deserve a round of applause, you’ve moved on to the big leagues.” “I am not a rapist.” Maego said, jumping to his feet. The floor shook as he thudded on the ground. Peccavi shrugged, taking another shot. “Hey! Look at me you goddamn fuck!” In contrast to Peccavi Mr. Maego was a large, broad shouldered man. Muscles seemed to ripple under his skin. His beared was oiled into a spike, as were his eyebrows, all giving him an almost demonic look. “I am not a fucking rapist.” Maego snarled. Peccavi ignored him. He continued his game, even as the much larger man stomped over to him. “Look at me! You accuse me of something! Fucking look at me!” “Okay I’m looking.” Peccavi glanced up briefly. “I see a very small pup who thinks he’s a wolf. One who I will give one last chance to walk away.” Now Peccavi stood and faced the room. “That applies to the rest of you as well. I know all, I see all. And trust me, nothing you have done is secret from me.” He pointed at one man sitting with his wife. “Rapist.” He pointed to the woman. “Left your child in the elements. Murder, murder, theft, rape again, you are all a very repetative bunch.” The room by now had gone silent. A chair scooted back. Shnning Mask’s head snapped over. His target stood. Followed by two friends he quickly exited The Bull and Anvil. Shinning followed close behind. “I am not a rapist…” Maego repeated again, this time with a little less force. “Hey I ain’t here to judge.” Peccavi said. “Nah, I’m here to encourage! My view’s always been you can do things the same way everyone does, or you can do things the fun way. You can have sex, or you can rape that bitch. I say have fun.” Peccavi glanced around at the now standing crowd. “And you are such a fun loving group.” “You need to leave.” One of the crowd said, this one a woman. Peccavi glanced her over. The woman was a pocket marked red head with a nose too wide and a bossom of generous proportion. She showed off those breasts in a dirty green and black dress, cut so low her nipples peaked over the top. “This is a nice place.” “I can tell from the clientele.” Peccavi quipped. “You can’t go accusing people of crimes or we is going to get mad.” Already Peccavi had noted many people fondling swords and cudlgles they had with them. Such a violent people they were. Peccavi sunk another shot in, this time not even bothering with the cue. “I’m not accusing, I am stating facts. Accusations are what you used to steal your neighbores cow when you accused it of trampling your fence. And in case you’re curious, the answer to the other thing you wonder is yes.” The woman swallowed. “What do you mean yes?” Peccavi glanced up. “Yes going to Metamor is the only way you’ll fulfil your curiositry. I can’t help but wonder when as a little girl you started looking at the underside of horses.” The woman went dead sielnt. Peccavi returned to his game. “But I could be wrong. I haven’t been thus far but you never know.” He grinned. “Maybe I’m actually lying, would you like that?” “We want you gone.” Maego now spoke up again. From his side he unsheathed a sword. He used it to push the two ball out of the way of Peccavi’s shot. “Hey! That was my shot!” Parlax pouted. “You’re so rude.” Maego growled at him. The rest of the patrons, now on edge began to unsheath weapons. Kregier the bartender continued to stand behind his counter in the daze Peccavi put him in. “You’re leaving now.” One of the crowd said. Peccavi paused and then shook his head. “Nah, I’m thinking I’ll finish my game, then my drink, then maybe--” “I am not a rapist!” He punched Peccavi square in the face. The thinner man laughed. “Who taught you how to hit? Your husband?” Maego grabbed his shoulder. “You’re leaving now!” Peccavi’s hand jolted out and crushed Maego’s wrist like paper. The man screamed in pain. Peccavi twisted his arm behind his back. “Boy you people don’t listen.” He slammed his foot into Maego’s fat knee, shattering it and causing the man to collapse. “Why do you feel so confidence? Because you have blades and I don’t? Not doing you much good is it now fatboy?” “Kill him!” Maego screamed. “Someone fucking kill him!” Someone did just that. The man with the oiled beard lunged and shoved his sword through Peccavi’s chest. He then twisted the blade, trying to do as much damage as possible. Peccavi glanced down at it. “Oh no! You have wounded me!” The blade had gone through, with the edge now lodged in the table. It gleamed silver and clean. “You’re not bleeding!” The man stammered. “Sure I am! Totally wounded! I’m about to die! Etcetera etcetera, is anyone buying this?” The bearded man looked at the sword, then at Peccavi. “You’re supposed to be dead!” He pulled the sword out. “I just killed you!” “I’m supposed to be a lot of things. Doesn’t mean they happen.” Peccavi yanked the blade from the bearded man’s hands, then snapped it in two like a twig. The handle he threw away, the blade he rammed through the man’s throat. The man tried to scream even as blood bubbled out of his mouth. The crowd parted as the dying man collapsed before them. Peccavi picked up his bottle and took another drink. Afterwards he examined it, a smile on his face. “You know, I’m beginning to enjoy this stuff. Maybe the taste has grown on me.” He turned back to the crowd. “Would anyone else like a taste? Or should we play something else?” The crowd, now finally shaken from stunned silence, began raising weapons. The few magic users prepared for a battle. Peccavi just grinned.
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