Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
Jinx
The biggest treasure on Eplas
Part II
The walls have ears
“Go! Ye rot infested turd!” An engaged Jinx urged the little bugger, sweating buckets and hanging from the wooden rail, a man shouting next to her ear on one side, a woman smelling of sweat and rum on the other.
Very cheap rum.
“GET THE CHEESE YE CUCK!” Urged another even more exasperated than her, from across the cellar’s internal balcony of sorts.
“MATE, YER DOIN’ IT ON PURPOSE!” Accused him a second taking it personally.
“MOVE FASTER!” A stout pirate bellowed opting for a simpler instruction, cutlass pointed to one of the jockeys just in case and murder in his eyes. Jockeys being the men running in front of the participants, long sticks with a piece of cheese hanging by a thread like a tail, secured on their backs. “YE LILY LIVERED BASTARD!”
“Ah!” The man on her left moaned seeing the jockey he supported tripping on his own feet and going down. Jinx narrowed her eyes, body almost over the rail, the drop under her and to the ‘track’ about two long meters. The jockey wearing the number three sign over his neck, took the chance and sprinted, the large port rat following after the treat and almost pulled ahead of the leader, with one round to go.
Fuck.
I might win.
“MOVE YER LEGS!” Jinx blasted him dangling over the racetrack and hurled a cup she held at the current leader trying to trip him up as well. She missed –finger in arse- and someone grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back violently. Jinx lost track of the race, caught a glimpse of the spider’s net covered cellar’s ceiling over her head and landed on her back.
“Ye cunt!” Jinx snapped irate and twisted one way, then the other, to avoid getting trampled on by heavy boots and dirty sandals. She snaked her way around on all fours, someone kicking her arse hard from behind. Almost dead center. Jinx was propelled forward, grabbed a boot to stop herself and sent a man sprawling onto a couple fucking on the stairs leading to the tavern over them.
She jumped up next, glared at a drunk that splashed her shirt with warm beer and sprinted back to her post as fast as she could. Jinx pushed between two wenches’, the fat one’s smelly boobs blocking her view and cursed her luck. She shoved that mass of flesh away with both hands, the woman protesting and slapping her friend with a curse.
“What?” Her friend complained, her smaller tits dancing under the thin dress, and they both missed Jinx slipping past them to reach the edge again, just barely catching the end of the race.
“What?” Jinx asked a bit later, her voice turning into a shriek. The race-master eyed her over his stained half-glasses. He was probably wearing them for show, loot bought at the Black Market.
“No winnings,” the crook pretending to be a person of authority repeated, looking down on her. He couldn’t help it, but still it was annoying. “Next!”
“Wait!” Jinx yelled, jumping up and landing on the table. “My rat won!” She announced to the line of those waiting to get their earnings. A collective groan came from the crowd of the twenty or so watching her.
“No it didn’t,” the crook argued, getting support from the bettors.
“Aye. Just get down kid,” one of them slurred.
“Is she even allowed to play?” Another asked, setting Jinx’s blood on fire. “Do they let anyone in these days?”
“Yeah, dis joint has gone to shite lately!” Cried a third, a bottle of beer crashing on the wall next to them, making a mess of the… messy cramped space.
“You cunts!” She cursed looking back. “I bet on three! He won.”
“Wait,” someone from the back queried all curious, as the noise subsided for a moment. “Number three won? Fuck, I have it right here, Mister Vance!”
The crook named Vance rolled his eyes. “Eight won!” He blasted him and glared at Jinx standing on his table. Looking down on him with taunting eyes. How ye like that, ye piece of shite? Huh? “Get off me fuckin’ table!”
Jinx knelt afore him and stared in his tainted glasses calmly. A long pink curl had gotten loose and was splitting her flushed face down the middle. Tickling her nostrils.
“Look at yer papers,” the man’s scribblings in front of him. Letters and numbers an unreadable mess. “It says it clear.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Vance argued, but this time he got less traction from the onlookers. The air heavy and hot, the stench unbearable.
“Give it a peek,” Jinx urged him, her tone polite. He caught him unawares.
“Yeah, look at yer darn papers Vance!” Someone yelled.
“It says eight, right here,” the crook pointed at the page. A slew of people pushing at the table trying to read the tiny number, almost toppling Jinx backwards. She pushed her left leg out calmly, found a chest -or a face- for purchase and stabilized herself.
“That’s a three,” Jinx countered.
“No, it isn’t. See there where it closes?” Vance argued back, sounding cocky.
“Only at the top. Twas a mistake,” Jinx insisted, people listening in engrossed from their back and forth. Some supporting the Gish, others the master of the races. A couple remaining neutral waiting to jump on the winning side.
“Still it’s more a nine than a three,” Vance pressed on with a satisfied smirk. “So ye lose girl.”
“If it’s a nine and there’s only eight rats running,” Leona’s voice came from the back, the droll in it making her sound drunk as a skunk. “Where be that missin’ rat ran to? Unless that rat never showed for reasons we may not dwell on at dis point, in which case dis numbers be all wrong and the race null and void.”
“What?” Vance blasted. “The race was legitimate! Eight won!”
“Yeah, but it says nine right there! Ye just admitted it yerself!” The stout pirate from before blasted, none pleased. “What kind of joint are ye runnin’ here Vance? Why, I feel yer tryin’ to swindle us out of our earnings!”
“YE CROOK!” Another cried from the back, with Vance puffing out and standing up, hands raised to calm them down.
“Let me—” But he never got the chance to finish. Someone hurled another bottle their way, whether aiming it at the wall, or the race master unclear, but it got the poor man square on the head. It broke apart, beer splashing out and snapped back his bleeding head. The man toppled back onto his seat and the momentum sent him crashing along with it to the floor.
Chaos erupted as everyone started fighting it out. Initially they fought in two groups, those agreeing with the results and those that didn’t, but soon, the place being what it was and quite packed, it became difficult to remember what the man, or woman, standing next to you supported.
Jinx jumped over the table and landed next to the unconscious race master, a cup flying over her head and then a dagger. She reached into his shirt and found the heavy purse with the bets. Cut the cord with her small knife and slotted it into her bosom. She run stooped towards the stairs leading up, a manic grin on her flushed face and people flying over her, along some weirder stuff.
A boot with no foot in it.
A boot with a wooden foot in it, three bloody teeth still stuck on the leather.
A gold ring, she almost snatched out of the air and a leather belt with a heavy buckle on it that smacked her on the face. It left an angry welt behind.
Jinx rolled on the dirty floor with a pained groan, twisted around the couple still fucking on the stairs and run up the steps two at a time, jumping over the still passed out man from earlier, just before the exit.
The Gish burst out of the cellar’s door, a dozen pairs of eyes turning her way and even the music stopping, though the guitar player stricken one last note after everyone had quieted down. It hurt Jinx’s ears.
“Why,” an older ‘gentleman’ asked. He wore a fancy red hat with a peacock’s tail feather on, every tooth in his mouth made out of gold, but for the left incisor. He’d opted on using ivory there. “Be there an opening perchance? The races stopped?”
“Ahm, well…” Jinx stalled, listening for people coming up the stairs. “Ye see now—”
“Haha! Look at the tits on that lassie!” A drunkard yelled, the crowd getting into it. “Abrakas be praised!”
What? Really? Jinx thought flattered.
Aww. Ye silly goose.
“Is that a… Gish?” A more sober patron asked and an older Lorian about to walk out of the tavern, whipped his head around alike a viper trying to spot her.
No, ye don’t.
Jinx stepped behind the man with the peacock hat, but he turned around to ask her again about the races, forcing her to take two quick steps back. The stout pirate coming up the stairs bumped onto to her arse. Jinx stumbled forward, ducked under the hat-wearing pirate’s outstretched arm and hoofed it towards the staircase leading to the second floor.
“SHE STOLE ME WINNINGS!” The stout pirate bellowed, booming voice breaking through the pandemonium that had ensued. That’s a lie, Jinx thought. The crowd quieted down again, the majority unsure on who that person was and the ‘musician’ missed his cue and kept playing a note over and over again.
PLING
Went the note and Jinx jumped four stairs, landing halfway.
TOING
“There!” That stupid pirate yelled pointing an accusing finger.
PLONG
And she reached the top, as more bettors burst out of the tavern’s cellar –turned rat racetrack- the ruckus and the music mixing up so much, you couldn’t tell it apart anymore. The Gish run as fast as she could towards the pleasure rooms, the purse heavy in her shirt.
Almost zipped past them.
Jinx glided on the floorboards trying to stop, soft leather boots screeching. She tried one door, but it was locked, so twirling around went for the next one. Jinx grabbed at the bronze knob and turned it one way, then the other. One eye on the pirate running up the staircase still following, like a dog after a bone. The door cracked open, but bumped onto something and stopped. A girl yelped, or moaned, followed by the sound of a fall and Jinx raising her leg kicked it in fully and jumped inside.
A naked Lorian girl was sprawled on the floor, her arse pointing upwards and the view offered quite enthralling. Jinx blinked, very impressed at the moist pinkness displayed and another young whore popped her head up from the messed up bed, painted blond hair all over her face.
“Who are you?” She asked, less than pleased, as her friend attempted to get up moaning from the floor. “What did ye do… to poor Bea?”
“That’s her?” Jinx pointed at the younger whore.
“Ayup, she is,” the whore replied. “Dis room is used. Find yer own clients short girl.”
“Allow me to intervene reasonably priced priestess of Naossis,” a male voice said and the sheets moved a pink head popping out, a woman’s undergarment covering his sweaty face. “Girls, there’s no reason to send her away, plenty of room—”
“Alix?” Jinx queried recognizing him. “Ye stupid horny fuck!”
“Goddess?” The Gish replied pleasantly startled and un-insulted, removing the whore’s underwear from his face. “Hah, even better! What a treat!”
“How is it better?” The young whore that Jinx had shoved down griped standing up. But Alix was on a roll and jumped up on the bed, cock swinging like a pendulum, a large tubular object in his hand, quite familiar.
“Twas an understatement! Tis a bloody marvelous chance to bask in endless carnal ecstasy miladies! Why, dis is a legitimate orgy we have at the tips of our fingers. As a matter of fact, let’s just dive right back in to it ha-ha! Put those fingers to good use! Arieta dear, close the door and come to bed! We got the full day and a long night of passion ahead of us!”
“I ain’t fucking that!” Bea protested. “She looks weird!”
“And yer tits are shaggin’,” Jinx retorted with a glare and used her leg to close the door behind her, hearing the pirate approaching. “I’ll take dis beauty over you any time!”
“Really?” Arieta asked with a rare blush for a whore, even a young one. There are a lot of miles gained inside a pirate tavern, Jinx thought and gave her an inclusive approving grin.
“There! Sparks are bloody flying! Fuck, I can feel the juices flowing again!” Alix bellowed with enthusiasm and jumped from the bed to goad the action along. Jinx turned his way and put a hand on his pale chest, the tattoo like markings on his skin more blue than hers.
His cock at full mast.
“Take the lead of course, unparalleled divinity,” Alix yielded seeing her incensed glare.
“Is that my wooden phallus?” Jinx asked the male Gish and he frowned.
“Why,” Alix stared at the offending item in his hand. “I’ve barely used it goddess.”
Arieta choked up, her small tits wobbly and very distracting.
“I don’t believe you!” Jinx snapped and grabbed it away, realizing she had nowhere to put it. “And I can’t stay.”
“Great!” Bea retorted.
“Oh, bummer,” Arieta pouted.
Aww, Jinx thought, considering staying for a brief moment.
Alix being the most devastated of them all. “Surely ye won’t abandon me full of craving and sad—”
Someone started banging at the door to their room, cutting through his protests.
“What are ye talking about?” Jinx snapped, pushing him out of the way and headed for the window. “You were just fuckin’ right?”
“Alas tis never enough,” Alix replied sadly following her. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get out of the tavern,” Jinx explained waving the phallus before his face. “Kind of in the mid of a job of sorts.”
The male Gish’s eyes lit up.
“Girls, hand me my garbs please,” he said and Bea groaned.
“Seriously? I wanted to use that!”
“Use what?” Jinx queried, narrowing her eyes.
“Another time!” Alix stepped in to nip it in the bud. “This miladies of the gutter, is an Alix Walker promise!”
“Aww,” Arieta purred and hugged him tight, giving his cock a last squeeze. “He’s such a sweet talker. Not easy to find his likes in dis joint.”
“I’m jumping out. Not waiting,” Jinx warned Alix reading indecision in his face.
“I’m right behind you, Goddess!” Alix Walker decided. “Lead the way!”
“Put yer pants on foolish Gish,” Jinx advised him. “Might have to stop on a dime. Can’t have ye runnin’ behind me leading wit that.”
Jinx almost landed on a skinny dog, the poor animal crying out scared and then barking at her furious, until Alix landed next to her with a perfect roll and the dog decided that this was one Gish too many.
“Why are we—?”
“Move. We need to put some alleys between us and them,” Jinx hissed and started walking, her back hurting and her face burning where the buckle had nailed her earlier.
“Cut in here,” Alix advised, back in business mode, while putting on his cape.
“Where’s yer shirt?” Jinx asked.
“Ah, I traded it for the pants,” Alix explained. “Good leather, roomy at the front.”
“Where are yer old pants?” Jinx asked patiently, hurrying after him, the phallus still in her hand.
“Ah, in the other room.”
“What other room?”
“The one next to it,” the thief explained, cutting into another alley leading them towards the market. “The locked one?”
Ah.
“Why was it locked?” Jinx asked, shoving the phallus in her belt.
“The man sleeping in it,” Alix murmured pausing to look up and down the market’s main street. This being the Black Market, the term is used loosely. “Didn’t want to be disturbed in his sleep.”
“Was he?” Jinx probed with a smile.
“No, but he’ll need a new pair of pants later,” Alix deadpanned and pulled the hood over his head.
“Will he have coin to buy them?” Jinx asked walking behind him, the Gish gliding through the shifty-looking crowd with ease.
“Not at hand,” Alix said and paused again and checked a wall, outside a very cheap looking tavern.
“What’s the matter?”
“The black door tavern,” Alix explained and signed for her to follow him inside. The door of the tavern painted black.
“That’s how it’s called. Not very original,” Jinx griped and the Gish showed her a mark on the wall, made with coal.
Two human hands drawn there, both missing a thumb.
“It’s safe,” Alix said and put a finger on his lips for her to keep quiet.
“What is this?” Jinx asked him following him inside the dark and very small tavern. It only had five tables in it. All empty. The keeper soundly asleep behind the small counter.
“We can lay low here, goddess,” the Gish replied and led her to one of the tables. “And we can share yer adventures. Only keep it hush,” he warned her with a naughty grin. His voice turning ominous. “The walls have ears.”
“Right,” Alix ‘Shifty’ Walker said, when she finished. “All this for eight gold?”
“Haven’t counted it yet,” Jinx argued.
“Ah, it’s about there,” Alix countered and tossed her the purse back. “Can tell by the weight.”
Jinx glared at the thief. “Didn’t I say never touch my stuff again?”
“Darling, I’m sorry,” Alix replied truthfully. “I can’t do it. Do ye want me to lie to you?”
Jinx sighed and put the stolen purse back in its place. With a grimace she got the phallus out and placed it on the table.
Alix chuckled unable to control himself. “Of all the things that have graced the Guild’s taverns this is the weirdest.”
“Really?” Jinx asked, a bit impressed.
“Nah,” Alix admitted and pushed his pink hair back, then used an expensive comb to fix them even more. “So,” the Gish said after he finished styling his hair. “What about the pendant?”
“What about it?”
“We’re as close as we’ll ever be,” Alix pointed.
“Not exactly ‘close’ still.”
“Eh, details. Garth has the means to pull this out.”
“Don’t call him that,” Jinx said.
“Not smart to flaunt his name around, Goddess.”
Jinx puffed the curl out of her face thinking about it.
“We need more stuff to attempt your crazy scheme Alix,” Jinx said a moment later, changing the subject.
“Like what?”
“Information. Location. A story is not good enough. Valwarin is one guy, have you collaborated it with the Guild?”
“Thieves aren’t archaeologists darling,” Alix argued and seeing her raise a pink brow sardonically, he added with a grin. “But they are the closest thing to ‘em.”
“What does the Guild know?”
“Not much. I didn’t exactly advertise it as you well remember.”
“Can I interrupt you for moment?” A man asked. Jinx turned her head and frowned. It was the formerly ‘sleeping’ barman. A Lorian, black hair and bland face, eyes the color of grass. He’d walked from the counter to their table as quiet as a cat.
“Ah, we’re leaving friend,” Alix said politely.
“Well, I’m not the bartender,” the man explained patiently, remembering to smile at the end of it. “Name’s Brock Olin,” he tended a hand, but no one took it.
“Yer in the Guild?” Alix asked.
“We all belong somewhere,” Brock replied, saying nothing.
“Right, ah… what do you want?” Jinx asked him, not really in the mood for small talk.
“I couldn’t help but overhear—”
“We were talkin’ pretty low,” Jinx cut him off midsentence.
“I’ve a good ear,” Brock explained.
“Whispering almost.”
“I’ve an excellent ear,” Brock explained further.
Jinx sighed.
“Don’t be a cunt,” she warned him. Brock smiled, again it wasn’t quite there.
“I heard the name,” the man said. “Valwarin.”
“Altarin,” Jinx said. “You heard wrong. It’s fine, ye were standing pretty far.”
“Violin,” Brock countered. “Easier to pick, but ye went to the city the man lives in. Lies have tails showing.”
Jinx thought about smacking him once with the phallus, but Alix gestured for her to keep her cool for some reason.
“Ye have an offer handsome colleague?” He asked the stranger.
“Just curiosity. The name isn’t thrown around every day around these parts.”
“Given where he lives it makes sense,” Alix countered. “The distance is too great.”
“These pirates,” Brock said. “Are not the pirates of yesterdays, right?”
“Valwarin knew the way over the mountains,” Jinx said, tired of beating around the bush.
“Not really. There’s no way through the mountains, or over them.”
“If there was, say… another way,” Alix probed. “Where would it be?”
Brock shrugged his shoulders. “If there was, nobody found it. Framtond in his book talks of the river’s sources and a door.”
“A door,” Jinx murmured.
“Can be many things,” Brock picked up the thread.
“Or it can be a bloody door,” Alix countered, with a groan. “Anything else, Mister Brock?”
“Valwarin had a pendant,” the man said. “Find that and you might have a shot. Ah, but it was stolen, is the word,” he looked at them both, then smiled. This dude is weird, Jinx thought. “So I guess you can’t.”
“Well, we’ll keep on thinking about it,” Alix sighed. “Gratitude Mister Brock.”
“Anytime,” Brock Olin replied, then added a smile at the end of it and turning on his heels walked straight out of the tavern.
“What the fuck?” Jinx blurted the moment he was out of the door.
“Get up,” Alix said. “We need to move.”
“What’s the rush?” Jinx asked getting up, phallus in hand.
“I think the Guild knows we have the pendant,” the Gish explained.
They rushed through the market, the afternoon hot and headed back taking the main street. It was going to be a long walk, but Glen riding hard almost trampled them over, dragging another horse behind him.
“Jump up,” Glen snapped, for some reason very angry. “We need to get out of the street, it’s too fuckin’ open!”
“What’s the matter?” Jinx queried climbing up the saddle, Alix jumping behind her.
“There’s a Bounty Hunter in the city,” Glen rustled, clenching his jaw. “I’m trying to find you for hours!”
“Like Larn?” Jinx asked politely, giving Alix the reins.
It was better to treat Glen carefully, when he had his fits.
“A real one probably. Working for a bank,” Glen explained.
“And? How is this a problem silly?”
“He’s looking for you Whisper,” he stared at Alix. “I guess you too.”
“Why?”
“What is this shite? Stop wit the plaguin’ endless questions Whisper!” Glen snapped and seeing her glare, he added with a sigh of desperation. “I’ll tell you later. We ride straight for our camp first,” the man known as Mister Garth paused his eyes gawking at her. “What in the slovenly holy fuck is that in yer hands?”
Jinx at the window
Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
Jinx
The biggest treasure on Eplas
Part II
The walls have ears
“Go! Ye rot infested turd!” An engaged Jinx urged the little bugger, sweating buckets and hanging from the wooden rail, a man shouting next to her ear on one side, a woman smelling of sweat and rum on the other.
Very cheap rum.
“GET THE CHEESE YE CUCK!” Urged another even more exasperated than her, from across the cellar’s internal balcony of sorts.
“MATE, YER DOIN’ IT ON PURPOSE!” Accused him a second taking it personally.
“MOVE FASTER!” A stout pirate bellowed opting for a simpler instruction, cutlass pointed to one of the jockeys just in case and murder in his eyes. Jockeys being the men running in front of the participants, long sticks with a piece of cheese hanging by a thread like a tail, secured on their backs. “YE LILY LIVERED BASTARD!”
“Ah!” The man on her left moaned seeing the jockey he supported tripping on his own feet and going down. Jinx narrowed her eyes, body almost over the rail, the drop under her and to the ‘track’ about two long meters. The jockey wearing the number three sign over his neck, took the chance and sprinted, the large port rat following after the treat and almost pulled ahead of the leader, with one round to go.
Fuck.
I might win.
“MOVE YER LEGS!” Jinx blasted him dangling over the racetrack and hurled a cup she held at the current leader trying to trip him up as well. She missed –finger in arse- and someone grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back violently. Jinx lost track of the race, caught a glimpse of the spider’s net covered cellar’s ceiling over her head and landed on her back.
“Ye cunt!” Jinx snapped irate and twisted one way, then the other, to avoid getting trampled on by heavy boots and dirty sandals. She snaked her way around on all fours, someone kicking her arse hard from behind. Almost dead center. Jinx was propelled forward, grabbed a boot to stop herself and sent a man sprawling onto a couple fucking on the stairs leading to the tavern over them.
She jumped up next, glared at a drunk that splashed her shirt with warm beer and sprinted back to her post as fast as she could. Jinx pushed between two wenches’, the fat one’s smelly boobs blocking her view and cursed her luck. She shoved that mass of flesh away with both hands, the woman protesting and slapping her friend with a curse.
“What?” Her friend complained, her smaller tits dancing under the thin dress, and they both missed Jinx slipping past them to reach the edge again, just barely catching the end of the race.
“What?” Jinx asked a bit later, her voice turning into a shriek. The race-master eyed her over his stained half-glasses. He was probably wearing them for show, loot bought at the Black Market.
“No winnings,” the crook pretending to be a person of authority repeated, looking down on her. He couldn’t help it, but still it was annoying. “Next!”
“Wait!” Jinx yelled, jumping up and landing on the table. “My rat won!” She announced to the line of those waiting to get their earnings. A collective groan came from the crowd of the twenty or so watching her.
“No it didn’t,” the crook argued, getting support from the bettors.
“Aye. Just get down kid,” one of them slurred.
“Is she even allowed to play?” Another asked, setting Jinx’s blood on fire. “Do they let anyone in these days?”
“Yeah, dis joint has gone to shite lately!” Cried a third, a bottle of beer crashing on the wall next to them, making a mess of the… messy cramped space.
“You cunts!” She cursed looking back. “I bet on three! He won.”
“Wait,” someone from the back queried all curious, as the noise subsided for a moment. “Number three won? Fuck, I have it right here, Mister Vance!”
The crook named Vance rolled his eyes. “Eight won!” He blasted him and glared at Jinx standing on his table. Looking down on him with taunting eyes. How ye like that, ye piece of shite? Huh? “Get off me fuckin’ table!”
Jinx knelt afore him and stared in his tainted glasses calmly. A long pink curl had gotten loose and was splitting her flushed face down the middle. Tickling her nostrils.
“Look at yer papers,” the man’s scribblings in front of him. Letters and numbers an unreadable mess. “It says it clear.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Vance argued, but this time he got less traction from the onlookers. The air heavy and hot, the stench unbearable.
“Give it a peek,” Jinx urged him, her tone polite. He caught him unawares.
“Yeah, look at yer darn papers Vance!” Someone yelled.
“It says eight, right here,” the crook pointed at the page. A slew of people pushing at the table trying to read the tiny number, almost toppling Jinx backwards. She pushed her left leg out calmly, found a chest -or a face- for purchase and stabilized herself.
“That’s a three,” Jinx countered.
“No, it isn’t. See there where it closes?” Vance argued back, sounding cocky.
“Only at the top. Twas a mistake,” Jinx insisted, people listening in engrossed from their back and forth. Some supporting the Gish, others the master of the races. A couple remaining neutral waiting to jump on the winning side.
“Still it’s more a nine than a three,” Vance pressed on with a satisfied smirk. “So ye lose girl.”
“If it’s a nine and there’s only eight rats running,” Leona’s voice came from the back, the droll in it making her sound drunk as a skunk. “Where be that missin’ rat ran to? Unless that rat never showed for reasons we may not dwell on at dis point, in which case dis numbers be all wrong and the race null and void.”
“What?” Vance blasted. “The race was legitimate! Eight won!”
“Yeah, but it says nine right there! Ye just admitted it yerself!” The stout pirate from before blasted, none pleased. “What kind of joint are ye runnin’ here Vance? Why, I feel yer tryin’ to swindle us out of our earnings!”
“YE CROOK!” Another cried from the back, with Vance puffing out and standing up, hands raised to calm them down.
“Let me—” But he never got the chance to finish. Someone hurled another bottle their way, whether aiming it at the wall, or the race master unclear, but it got the poor man square on the head. It broke apart, beer splashing out and snapped back his bleeding head. The man toppled back onto his seat and the momentum sent him crashing along with it to the floor.
Chaos erupted as everyone started fighting it out. Initially they fought in two groups, those agreeing with the results and those that didn’t, but soon, the place being what it was and quite packed, it became difficult to remember what the man, or woman, standing next to you supported.
Jinx jumped over the table and landed next to the unconscious race master, a cup flying over her head and then a dagger. She reached into his shirt and found the heavy purse with the bets. Cut the cord with her small knife and slotted it into her bosom. She run stooped towards the stairs leading up, a manic grin on her flushed face and people flying over her, along some weirder stuff.
A boot with no foot in it.
A boot with a wooden foot in it, three bloody teeth still stuck on the leather.
A gold ring, she almost snatched out of the air and a leather belt with a heavy buckle on it that smacked her on the face. It left an angry welt behind.
Jinx rolled on the dirty floor with a pained groan, twisted around the couple still fucking on the stairs and run up the steps two at a time, jumping over the still passed out man from earlier, just before the exit.
The Gish burst out of the cellar’s door, a dozen pairs of eyes turning her way and even the music stopping, though the guitar player stricken one last note after everyone had quieted down. It hurt Jinx’s ears.
“Why,” an older ‘gentleman’ asked. He wore a fancy red hat with a peacock’s tail feather on, every tooth in his mouth made out of gold, but for the left incisor. He’d opted on using ivory there. “Be there an opening perchance? The races stopped?”
“Ahm, well…” Jinx stalled, listening for people coming up the stairs. “Ye see now—”
“Haha! Look at the tits on that lassie!” A drunkard yelled, the crowd getting into it. “Abrakas be praised!”
What? Really? Jinx thought flattered.
Aww. Ye silly goose.
“Is that a… Gish?” A more sober patron asked and an older Lorian about to walk out of the tavern, whipped his head around alike a viper trying to spot her.
No, ye don’t.
Jinx stepped behind the man with the peacock hat, but he turned around to ask her again about the races, forcing her to take two quick steps back. The stout pirate coming up the stairs bumped onto to her arse. Jinx stumbled forward, ducked under the hat-wearing pirate’s outstretched arm and hoofed it towards the staircase leading to the second floor.
“SHE STOLE ME WINNINGS!” The stout pirate bellowed, booming voice breaking through the pandemonium that had ensued. That’s a lie, Jinx thought. The crowd quieted down again, the majority unsure on who that person was and the ‘musician’ missed his cue and kept playing a note over and over again.
PLING
Went the note and Jinx jumped four stairs, landing halfway.
TOING
“There!” That stupid pirate yelled pointing an accusing finger.
PLONG
And she reached the top, as more bettors burst out of the tavern’s cellar –turned rat racetrack- the ruckus and the music mixing up so much, you couldn’t tell it apart anymore. The Gish run as fast as she could towards the pleasure rooms, the purse heavy in her shirt.
Almost zipped past them.
Jinx glided on the floorboards trying to stop, soft leather boots screeching. She tried one door, but it was locked, so twirling around went for the next one. Jinx grabbed at the bronze knob and turned it one way, then the other. One eye on the pirate running up the staircase still following, like a dog after a bone. The door cracked open, but bumped onto something and stopped. A girl yelped, or moaned, followed by the sound of a fall and Jinx raising her leg kicked it in fully and jumped inside.
A naked Lorian girl was sprawled on the floor, her arse pointing upwards and the view offered quite enthralling. Jinx blinked, very impressed at the moist pinkness displayed and another young whore popped her head up from the messed up bed, painted blond hair all over her face.
“Who are you?” She asked, less than pleased, as her friend attempted to get up moaning from the floor. “What did ye do… to poor Bea?”
“That’s her?” Jinx pointed at the younger whore.
“Ayup, she is,” the whore replied. “Dis room is used. Find yer own clients short girl.”
“Allow me to intervene reasonably priced priestess of Naossis,” a male voice said and the sheets moved a pink head popping out, a woman’s undergarment covering his sweaty face. “Girls, there’s no reason to send her away, plenty of room—”
“Alix?” Jinx queried recognizing him. “Ye stupid horny fuck!”
“Goddess?” The Gish replied pleasantly startled and un-insulted, removing the whore’s underwear from his face. “Hah, even better! What a treat!”
“How is it better?” The young whore that Jinx had shoved down griped standing up. But Alix was on a roll and jumped up on the bed, cock swinging like a pendulum, a large tubular object in his hand, quite familiar.
“Twas an understatement! Tis a bloody marvelous chance to bask in endless carnal ecstasy miladies! Why, dis is a legitimate orgy we have at the tips of our fingers. As a matter of fact, let’s just dive right back in to it ha-ha! Put those fingers to good use! Arieta dear, close the door and come to bed! We got the full day and a long night of passion ahead of us!”
“I ain’t fucking that!” Bea protested. “She looks weird!”
“And yer tits are shaggin’,” Jinx retorted with a glare and used her leg to close the door behind her, hearing the pirate approaching. “I’ll take dis beauty over you any time!”
“Really?” Arieta asked with a rare blush for a whore, even a young one. There are a lot of miles gained inside a pirate tavern, Jinx thought and gave her an inclusive approving grin.
“There! Sparks are bloody flying! Fuck, I can feel the juices flowing again!” Alix bellowed with enthusiasm and jumped from the bed to goad the action along. Jinx turned his way and put a hand on his pale chest, the tattoo like markings on his skin more blue than hers.
His cock at full mast.
“Take the lead of course, unparalleled divinity,” Alix yielded seeing her incensed glare.
“Is that my wooden phallus?” Jinx asked the male Gish and he frowned.
“Why,” Alix stared at the offending item in his hand. “I’ve barely used it goddess.”
Arieta choked up, her small tits wobbly and very distracting.
“I don’t believe you!” Jinx snapped and grabbed it away, realizing she had nowhere to put it. “And I can’t stay.”
“Great!” Bea retorted.
“Oh, bummer,” Arieta pouted.
Aww, Jinx thought, considering staying for a brief moment.
Alix being the most devastated of them all. “Surely ye won’t abandon me full of craving and sad—”
Someone started banging at the door to their room, cutting through his protests.
“What are ye talking about?” Jinx snapped, pushing him out of the way and headed for the window. “You were just fuckin’ right?”
“Alas tis never enough,” Alix replied sadly following her. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get out of the tavern,” Jinx explained waving the phallus before his face. “Kind of in the mid of a job of sorts.”
The male Gish’s eyes lit up.
“Girls, hand me my garbs please,” he said and Bea groaned.
“Seriously? I wanted to use that!”
“Use what?” Jinx queried, narrowing her eyes.
“Another time!” Alix stepped in to nip it in the bud. “This miladies of the gutter, is an Alix Walker promise!”
“Aww,” Arieta purred and hugged him tight, giving his cock a last squeeze. “He’s such a sweet talker. Not easy to find his likes in dis joint.”
“I’m jumping out. Not waiting,” Jinx warned Alix reading indecision in his face.
“I’m right behind you, Goddess!” Alix Walker decided. “Lead the way!”
“Put yer pants on foolish Gish,” Jinx advised him. “Might have to stop on a dime. Can’t have ye runnin’ behind me leading wit that.”
Jinx almost landed on a skinny dog, the poor animal crying out scared and then barking at her furious, until Alix landed next to her with a perfect roll and the dog decided that this was one Gish too many.
“Why are we—?”
“Move. We need to put some alleys between us and them,” Jinx hissed and started walking, her back hurting and her face burning where the buckle had nailed her earlier.
“Cut in here,” Alix advised, back in business mode, while putting on his cape.
“Where’s yer shirt?” Jinx asked.
“Ah, I traded it for the pants,” Alix explained. “Good leather, roomy at the front.”
“Where are yer old pants?” Jinx asked patiently, hurrying after him, the phallus still in her hand.
“Ah, in the other room.”
“What other room?”
“The one next to it,” the thief explained, cutting into another alley leading them towards the market. “The locked one?”
Ah.
“Why was it locked?” Jinx asked, shoving the phallus in her belt.
“The man sleeping in it,” Alix murmured pausing to look up and down the market’s main street. This being the Black Market, the term is used loosely. “Didn’t want to be disturbed in his sleep.”
“Was he?” Jinx probed with a smile.
“No, but he’ll need a new pair of pants later,” Alix deadpanned and pulled the hood over his head.
“Will he have coin to buy them?” Jinx asked walking behind him, the Gish gliding through the shifty-looking crowd with ease.
“Not at hand,” Alix said and paused again and checked a wall, outside a very cheap looking tavern.
“What’s the matter?”
“The black door tavern,” Alix explained and signed for her to follow him inside. The door of the tavern painted black.
“That’s how it’s called. Not very original,” Jinx griped and the Gish showed her a mark on the wall, made with coal.
Two human hands drawn there, both missing a thumb.
“It’s safe,” Alix said and put a finger on his lips for her to keep quiet.
“What is this?” Jinx asked him following him inside the dark and very small tavern. It only had five tables in it. All empty. The keeper soundly asleep behind the small counter.
“We can lay low here, goddess,” the Gish replied and led her to one of the tables. “And we can share yer adventures. Only keep it hush,” he warned her with a naughty grin. His voice turning ominous. “The walls have ears.”
“Right,” Alix ‘Shifty’ Walker said, when she finished. “All this for eight gold?”
“Haven’t counted it yet,” Jinx argued.
“Ah, it’s about there,” Alix countered and tossed her the purse back. “Can tell by the weight.”
Jinx glared at the thief. “Didn’t I say never touch my stuff again?”
“Darling, I’m sorry,” Alix replied truthfully. “I can’t do it. Do ye want me to lie to you?”
Jinx sighed and put the stolen purse back in its place. With a grimace she got the phallus out and placed it on the table.
Alix chuckled unable to control himself. “Of all the things that have graced the Guild’s taverns this is the weirdest.”
“Really?” Jinx asked, a bit impressed.
“Nah,” Alix admitted and pushed his pink hair back, then used an expensive comb to fix them even more. “So,” the Gish said after he finished styling his hair. “What about the pendant?”
“What about it?”
“We’re as close as we’ll ever be,” Alix pointed.
“Not exactly ‘close’ still.”
“Eh, details. Garth has the means to pull this out.”
“Don’t call him that,” Jinx said.
“Not smart to flaunt his name around, Goddess.”
Jinx puffed the curl out of her face thinking about it.
“We need more stuff to attempt your crazy scheme Alix,” Jinx said a moment later, changing the subject.
“Like what?”
“Information. Location. A story is not good enough. Valwarin is one guy, have you collaborated it with the Guild?”
“Thieves aren’t archaeologists darling,” Alix argued and seeing her raise a pink brow sardonically, he added with a grin. “But they are the closest thing to ‘em.”
“What does the Guild know?”
“Not much. I didn’t exactly advertise it as you well remember.”
“Can I interrupt you for moment?” A man asked. Jinx turned her head and frowned. It was the formerly ‘sleeping’ barman. A Lorian, black hair and bland face, eyes the color of grass. He’d walked from the counter to their table as quiet as a cat.
“Ah, we’re leaving friend,” Alix said politely.
“Well, I’m not the bartender,” the man explained patiently, remembering to smile at the end of it. “Name’s Brock Olin,” he tended a hand, but no one took it.
“Yer in the Guild?” Alix asked.
“We all belong somewhere,” Brock replied, saying nothing.
“Right, ah… what do you want?” Jinx asked him, not really in the mood for small talk.
“I couldn’t help but overhear—”
“We were talkin’ pretty low,” Jinx cut him off midsentence.
“I’ve a good ear,” Brock explained.
“Whispering almost.”
“I’ve an excellent ear,” Brock explained further.
Jinx sighed.
“Don’t be a cunt,” she warned him. Brock smiled, again it wasn’t quite there.
“I heard the name,” the man said. “Valwarin.”
“Altarin,” Jinx said. “You heard wrong. It’s fine, ye were standing pretty far.”
“Violin,” Brock countered. “Easier to pick, but ye went to the city the man lives in. Lies have tails showing.”
Jinx thought about smacking him once with the phallus, but Alix gestured for her to keep her cool for some reason.
“Ye have an offer handsome colleague?” He asked the stranger.
“Just curiosity. The name isn’t thrown around every day around these parts.”
“Given where he lives it makes sense,” Alix countered. “The distance is too great.”
“These pirates,” Brock said. “Are not the pirates of yesterdays, right?”
“Valwarin knew the way over the mountains,” Jinx said, tired of beating around the bush.
“Not really. There’s no way through the mountains, or over them.”
“If there was, say… another way,” Alix probed. “Where would it be?”
Brock shrugged his shoulders. “If there was, nobody found it. Framtond in his book talks of the river’s sources and a door.”
“A door,” Jinx murmured.
“Can be many things,” Brock picked up the thread.
“Or it can be a bloody door,” Alix countered, with a groan. “Anything else, Mister Brock?”
“Valwarin had a pendant,” the man said. “Find that and you might have a shot. Ah, but it was stolen, is the word,” he looked at them both, then smiled. This dude is weird, Jinx thought. “So I guess you can’t.”
“Well, we’ll keep on thinking about it,” Alix sighed. “Gratitude Mister Brock.”
“Anytime,” Brock Olin replied, then added a smile at the end of it and turning on his heels walked straight out of the tavern.
“What the fuck?” Jinx blurted the moment he was out of the door.
“Get up,” Alix said. “We need to move.”
“What’s the rush?” Jinx asked getting up, phallus in hand.
“I think the Guild knows we have the pendant,” the Gish explained.
They rushed through the market, the afternoon hot and headed back taking the main street. It was going to be a long walk, but Glen riding hard almost trampled them over, dragging another horse behind him.
“Jump up,” Glen snapped, for some reason very angry. “We need to get out of the street, it’s too fuckin’ open!”
“What’s the matter?” Jinx queried climbing up the saddle, Alix jumping behind her.
“There’s a Bounty Hunter in the city,” Glen rustled, clenching his jaw. “I’m trying to find you for hours!”
“Like Larn?” Jinx asked politely, giving Alix the reins.
It was better to treat Glen carefully, when he had his fits.
“A real one probably. Working for a bank,” Glen explained.
“And? How is this a problem silly?”
“He’s looking for you Whisper,” he stared at Alix. “I guess you too.”
“Why?”
“What is this shite? Stop wit the plaguin’ endless questions Whisper!” Glen snapped and seeing her glare, he added with a sigh of desperation. “I’ll tell you later. We ride straight for our camp first,” the man known as Mister Garth paused his eyes gawking at her. “What in the slovenly holy fuck is that in yer hands?”
Jinx at the window
