Going through the portal felt like swimming in quicksand, but as she emerged from its surface, she felt her center of gravity right itself as her feet found solid ground once more. Following on her heels was the ectoplasmic form of the Mentor, and then the chitinous frame of Strix.
Finally getting an up-close view of the place, Seras had to agree with Horny. Skid Row looked like a godawful mess. There was little order to be found in its construction, with everyone having used whatever was available. Then she smelled it.
"Ugh! Christ! What the hell?" She had clamped her hands over her face and her eyes were watering. Even Strix was swiping away at his face, trying to fight off the stench.
"Ah yes. The old Skid Row aroma. A mix of bad alcohol, garbage, raw shit, and dead bodies left out to rot. Not much has changed, I see."
"How can people stand to even live here?!"
"Probably because they have no choice. Horny wasn't exaggerating when he said this is the worst place in the Underworld to be. Many would rather be dead than be found here."
"So why are we?"
"Like I said before, we can't be having your presence discovered before you're ready. Even if Skid Row is a miserable den of foulness and refuse, it still has a market. And you," he pointed a finger at her uniform, "are in serious need of a change in wardrobe."
"What's wrong with the clothes I have right now?" She was honestly offended. The guys in the force always thought she looked cute in her uniform.
"First, you've been wearing those for nigh on a week." OK, he had a point there. "Second, no Keeper of any real significance is going to be found walking around in something so drab."
"Hey!"
"First things first. You need to find minions to hire. Spiders just won't cut it, and it's far too early to reveal that you possess a trump card like a Horned Reaper. In your case, I would suggest some orcs and goblins to start with, and then a warlock or two. After that, we can look for a proper tailor."
Seras put a hand to the bag of gems on her belt. There were also a couple smaller pouches elsewhere on her person. "Are you sure this'll be enough?"
"Don't go showing that off! We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention." The Mentor quietly snapped. "You don't have to carry your wealth with you. You can simply transport you wealth to you."
Looking over the area, the ghost pointed to a large saloon from the sound of music could be heard. "There. We should find some slightly competent muscle looking for work."
Outside the gate, Strix stopped. "My lady, I think it will be best if I wait out here until you have finished your business."
Looking through the door, she saw how little space would be available to the giant arachnid. "I agree. See you in a few."
Stepping into the den of filth and sin, Seras was struck by a wave of stench comprising of the sweat of too many bodies crammed into a space and drink. Goblins, orcs, trolls, a few lean figures she took to be dark elves, and the odd human.
Before she could move any further, she found herself ringed by a group of orcs and trolls. They carried knives and blunt instruments, they all reeked of ale, and the biggest and ugliest of the lot stood over her by at least two feet.
"We don't likes yur kind here pink-skin!" One of the pig-faced orcs slurred. His companions growled and snarled, voicing their agreement.
Their leader, a scarred troll carrying a heavy spiked mace and chewing a fat fungus cigar, was breathing heavily in her face. She turned up her nose as he looked her over. She knew that stare. It was one that damned ghost shot her all the time.
A different troll with a thick ring through his nose chimed in. "Hold ups boys. This one don't look so poor. I think we can let you pass if she can pay the toll. What d'you think boss?"
"I think we can make an exception just this once. How about..100 gold pieces. For each of us." His friends laughed and rubbed their fat paws together, thinking they'd just found some easy money.
He wasn't done though. His fat tongue wet his lips as his tiny eyes ran over her exposed legs and up to her bust. "Or, we can go round back and you can show us a good time. Eh, my pretty little tart?" His friends were suddenly much closer, ready for the real fun to begin.
Pictures of ultra-violence and bloody carnage went through her mind, and Seras felt a primal part of her roar in anticipation.
NO! She couldn't let her anger control her. Instead, she'd make an example of these wannabe thugs. Her eyes narrowed, and her fists balled at her sides.
The brute went for her arm, but before he could, she'd delivered a swift blow to his jaw that sent him straight to the floor. Then, a heart beat later, two of his friends joined him in the dirt.
Caught by surprise by her attack, the gang wasn't at all ready. A troll swung for her legs with an iron rod, while an orc tried to stab her in the back with a curved dagger. The orc suddenly found his weapon embedded in his compatriots hands, while the rod made impact with the orcs stomach.
Two trolls went to bludgeon her with their clubs, but a leg sweep put them on their backs. Three of the swine went for her simultaneously, aiming to kill. She snapped one's arm, another took a boot to the face, and the last squealed as she lifted him from the ground and sent him flying out the door.
It didn't last long. A few broken bones after she struck the first blow, the gang of brutes was beaten into submission. A couple of the smarter or more cowardly lads bolted to the exit when they saw their fearless leader hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
......
The Mentor was pleasantly surprised. He'd floated up to the ceiling to observe (and look down the tavern girl's shirts). His young charge had handled herself quiet well. With such a show of prowess, it would not be hard to convince a few warriors to join her cause.
......
A moment of silence went through the bar, but then Seras turned to find herself the subject of a roaring crowd. Pounded fists, slamming mugs on tables, stomping feet and loud shouts displayed their in approval. A few even sent out appreciative whistles, and Seras felt herself blush. The crowd parted as she made her way to the counter, receiving pats on the back and compliments all the way.
As she finally took a seat, she found a tall glass of foaming ale in front of her. Standing behind the counter was an older orc woman, the matron of the house. "The good stuff. Not the swill the rest of these layabouts drink." Seras reached for her purse, but the matron stopped her hand. "No need for that, sweetheart. On the house."
"Thanks."
The matron extended a hand, which Seras excepted in a firm shake. "Name's Gorla."
"Seras Victoria. Does that happen often?"
"Who? Grag and his lot? They're just the latest in a long line of idiots who think they can make a quick buck hassling my customers. Usually I can run them out before they do any real damage, but I ain't getting any younger." She looked over the crowd to see the last of the lot dragging their unconscious comrades out the door. "Another lot'll take their place in about a month's time, but for now at least I'll have one less headache."
Seras stopped and looked at the glass. Sure, she'd had some alcohol before, but what if she couldn't keep it down? Alucard and Sir Integra both told her that normal food and drink would only make her sick. But then Horny said that the dungeon heart made her alive again. So what should she do?
"What's wrong kid? Never drink before?"
Seras shook her head, pushing past her doubts and took a deep swig. It was...strange. Good, maybe a little sweet, and it had an odd aftertaste. "Mushroom?"
The matron laughed. "Never had Underworld brew before? Not a hole lot of barley or hops to be found around here. We use fermented fungus and spices to make our stuff." Gorla bent over the counter, checking to see if anyone was listening in. "Some of the Keepers pay through the nose for wine and liquor imported from the surface." She laughed again. "They go through hell to bring it in, and most of it is just Underworld brew flavored to taste like surfacer swill!"
Even Seras had to giggle at that. She took another swig, and continued chatting with the matron for a few minutes before Gorla turned the conversation back to the brawl.
"I ain't ever seen a human move like that. What's you secret?"
Seras gulped. What was her cover supposed to be again? Oh. Infernal heritage, several generations back. Checking to see who was listening, Seras gave the matron her phony answer.
"Demons in the family, huh? My second husband was like that." She gestured to a huge orc head on the wall, perpetually snarling and baring two curved horns. "So what brings you in here?"
"I'm looking to hire some muscle. Know anybody looking?"
"You really think you need it? That was some mighty fine work you just pulled."
Seras nodded her head, and the matron shrugged. "There's plenty around here looking for new business after Keeper Goristro pushed the old district lords out." The scowl on her face expressed her opinion of the man. "Fat fuck demands five times as much in protection payments as the guilds used to. But if you're looking for someone competent, I'd go to the blood pit on the east side. Might be that their selling."
At Seras's confused expression, she explained further. "Gladiator games. Nothing like the events they have in the Colliseum at Dis, but they'd be your best bet. Unless of course you'd like to try and press-gang those fools you just threw out."
Seras didn't like the idea of buying slaves, but working for her couldn't be any worse than what they already had to live with, right? "What about warlocks?"
"Those old foggeys aren't worth your time. If you're real desperate though, Azzimec just returned from an expedition into the Black Chasm." Gorla scrunched up her nose. "Man's not right in the head. Dabblin' in all sorts of insanity." She chuckled. "Got the boot by Goristro for blowing a hole in his palace. His place is on the outskirts of town, right on the wall. Can't miss it."
"Where can I get supplies?" Seras hoped to get this all done soon. Even if she'd impressed some of the pub rats, she knew how many eyes would be glued to her purse...or her ass.
"The Bazaar. Northern section of town, over the bridge. There's a few alchemists and apothecaries, not to mention all the hawkers on the streets. There's also a station there where caravans deliver new goods. I place my orders there all the time. It ain't cheap, but the owner's a friend, and he keeps his shipments safe and on time."
Gorla took a closer look at Seras' uniform, and shook her head. "You can't be walking around without a proper weapon and armor either, kid. If you're looking for some proper gear, try Hed. The cantankerous old troll don't like visitors, and does all his work by order. He'll drain your purse faster than a elf dancer, but he's a master craftsman. Even did business in Dis for a while."
She stared at nothing for a moment, and seemed a little wistful. "Old shit used to come in here all the time. But he hasn't been back in months. Wonder if he finally kicked it?" The matron tapped her fingers on the counter, then shrugged. "I guess you can found out yourself. His workshop is outside the walls on the west side, next to the lava flow." She chuckled to herself. "Bastard probably stays there to avoid the stench!"
"Any tailors?" She hated to ask, but the Mentor was probably right about her needing a change of clothes. Or a dozen. Going shopping might take her mind off of this Keeper business. And to tell the truth, she hadn't had any time to really be a girl since she'd become a vampire.
"Was waiting for you to ask that. There's a poncy little knife-ear that runs a shop in the bazaar." Gorla looked her over. "You should really think about getting you something less butch. When you first came in, I thought you were a boy!" Seras tried not to pout to badly, as she could see the old orc was just teasing.
Joking aside, the Matron became more serious. Gorla waved her to come closer, and Seras hesitantly leaned over the counter.
"You've been asking a lot about hiring and supplies. Tell me sweetheart," Gorla checked for any eavesdroppers. "You a Keeper?"
Seras suddenly froze, and looked the orc in the eye. Part of her wanted to freak out, but another told her to not to panic. "Is that a problem?"
Gorla backed off and chuckled. "Not at all pinkie. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Keepers may be the lords of darkness, but they all gotta start out somewhere. Maybe when you get big and strong, you can come back and kick that ball of lard Goristro out!"
Relieved, Seras finished her drink and bid farewell to the helpful matron. As she left the bar, the Mentor floated back down and joined his charge.
"You did very well handling those thugs! No doubt the rumor mill will turn it into a full-scale battle where you fend off a band of assassins single-handed."
"Thanks!" The old part of her was glad to have earned some approval.
"Tell me, did you learn anything useful?"
He and Seras continued down the street as she informed him of all she had learned, his ectoplasmic head bobbing occasionally. But before they explored the city further, Seras had to check something.
"Where's Strix?"
As if mystically summoned at the mention of his name, the giant arachnid stepped forth from the shadows, dragging along a pair of orcs trapped in his webbing.
"My lady," he bowed. "These two flat-noses were following you."
"Shit! It talks!"
Stepping closer, Seras did her best to appear intimidating. "Why were you following me?"
The braver of the two spoke. "Please don't let it drink our blood! We'd taste terrible!" They were practically pissing themselves with fear. "Please Keeper!"
"Wait a minute, how'd you know I was a Keeper?"
"We heard you and the ghost! We saw you kick Tag-", his partner elbowed his ribs, "I mean Grag. We saw you kick him and his gang's ass! Please, we're tired of shit jobs! Let us work for you!" His silent friend was emphatically nodding all along.
The porcine thugs didn't look all that intimidating, but she'd take what she could get. "Fine. I have some business to take care of in the meantime, which means you two had better keep your traps shut. Understand?"
The orcs were nodding their fat heads vigorously.
The Mentor shrugged. "It's a start."
Strix released the prisoners from his webbing, and allowed them room to remove the last threads from their fat bodies. Feeling a tad mischievous, he spoke. "It is not true that spiders drink the blood of our prey."
The two orcs looked at each other, then back at the giant spider. They clearly didn't understand what he was talking about.
"We inject our stomach acids into their insides. Their guts melt into a nice, thick soup, that we suck up until nothing is left of them but a husk." Strix practically purred in amusement as the color fled their faces.
The Mentor chuckled, and turned to Seras. "So, Keeper, where shall we go first?"
.......
Horny had been wandering the newly open tunnels, desperately searching for something to kill. He'd just doubled back after completing his patrol when he discovered a gaping hole in one of the unfortified walls.
This wasn't here before. On the other side, a large cavern filled with lava opened before him. Kneeling down to inspect the damage, he found a number of claw marks. Whatever had done this had come through recently.
Spotting a trail in the dust, the ferocious demon grinned and hefted his gleaming scythe. The hunt was on!
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(Posted Sat, 22 Nov 2014 14:11)
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