Strike!

d(^_^)(^_^)d · 2014-12-10T04:57:47-01:00

This project started out as an entry for the 2014 Winter Writing Contest, but shit happens. After I was done, I knew I had a setting and characters I wanted to continue to explore. Strike! follows the lives of several gang members in a fantasy world in a time ripe with supernatural entities and the onset of technological advances. The first spoiler contains the original submission to the contest, but you can just skip that if you want and follow the links in the second spoiler. Spoiler:Listen up, †˜cause I got a story to tell. It happened back when those devices that allow men to harvest the power of the gods first started appearing in the city. That’s right. The city. Baradium, the capital of the Malteer Empire. It starts in a tavern. Why? Because I want you to think fondly of me, thus I’d rather not start off with me getting rained on by blood and giblets that aren’t even the tasty kind, but more on that later. Sit back, and you just might learn something. . . . The Fourteen Hearths Tavern was quieter than usual. And before you ask, it only has one hearth. Raven sat across from me. “It’s not like you to zone out, Garm,” he said. “Sorry. My mind’s been preoccupied as of late,” I said. “Your boss?” “He’s been giving me a lot of grief after the Sabers started getting bolder, true, but that’s not it.” If one could sum up the gangs of Baradium with an appropriate metaphor, it’d be a bunch of leeches fighting for control of the choicest spot to latch on to. You may be wondering why I joined one in the first place if my opinion of them is so low, but the answer is simple. It’s the best option there is for someone living in the city who isn’t born upper class or a merchant. And what does that make me if I continue to follow the metaphor? A parasite of a parasite? “Do you believe in the gods?” I asked. “Is that what’s got you bummed out? I didn’t take you for one of those guys.” I removed my pipe from my mouth and blew out a long draw of smoke. “You can’t tell me the rumors haven’t made you think about it even just a little.” “Sorry to disappoint you, but I couldn’t care less.” And that was that. When Raven said he didn’t care, he really meant it. There’d be no more broaching of the subject with him. . . . Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those weak-minded fools who’re looking to the gods to save them because life decided to take a dump on them. It’s not like the omniscient threat of the Sabers has me running scared. It's those rumors. Imagine being able to point a finger at anyone your heart desires, and with a mere thought, thunder strikes down and ends their life. Is it wrong to assume only the gods could hold such power? Truth be told, I can only imagine Seritia, the Lord of Lust, Vengeful Storms, and Entropy; or Ravelon, the Lord of Blood, Celestial Light, and Damnation claiming anyone in such a heavy-handed fashion, but that’s beside the point. If anyone can obtain that power, then what makes the gods special? In other words, what makes them gods? . . . The Sabers have been in a long-standing war with the Hounds, though the situation wasn’t always so. When I was growing up, the Hounds ran the streets with an iron fist or as close as anyone ever got to. Their anonymous leader, who legend has it is known by only two people, sat content on his throne, which had been rigged together from the bones of his enemies. It wasn’t until I finally gave in to the destiny that awaits all lowborn worth anything and joined the Hounds that the Sabers began gathering momentum. That was four years ago. Needless to say, things haven’t gone the underworld king’s way since. . . . “I once knew a guy who knew a girl who had the prettiest name though her hatred for it ran as black as the night.” “What was it?” Viktor asked. We stood around as we waited for the boss to show up. Tara sat on a crate at the other end of the room, legs crossed. I ran my hand through my hair to stall for time as I racked my brain for the name, but nothing came. Laughter escaped my lips despite myself. “Valenus’s Breath,” Viktor cursed. “This is what happens when you smoke too much of that crap.” He made an exaggerated shrug. “But what do I know? I’m just a no-good northerner.” “Damn right,” I said, giving him a shove. “We’re in a crisis, gentlemen. You two should act more seriously.” The words came from none other than the boss. Xander must have weighed at least 250 pounds, but only a fool would take him lightly. He hadn’t risen to his current position because of luck. I hadn’t heard his approach up the stairs, and it seemed neither had Viktor or Tara. He strode into the center of a room occupied by three seasoned killers and didn’t bat an eye. “But boss,” Viktor said, “are we not killing the Sabers so we can live another day? What’s the point in living if we’re not gonna, well, live a little?” “I don’t have time to bandy words with you. I have another meeting to attend to after this one, so I’ll cut straight to the chase. Word is the Sabers are coming after our district next. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but be extra vigilant. If my head rolls, yours does too. Any questions? Good. You know your jobs. Get to it.” Xander’s departure was as sudden as his entrance, and it left me in a considerably worse mood. “Another meeting? There’s only one more set of people he could be meeting with.” The other bosses. “This isn’t just another shake up. The Sabers are dead set on taking over.” It was the first subject in recent memory in which Viktor had nothing to say on. Tara hopped off the crate. “That’s for Xander and the others to worry about. Until we hear from them, we have a job to do, same as it’s always been.” I wanted to ask her if she really thought as much, but she left before I had a chance. . . . And just what is our job you wonder? You must be from out of town if you’re asking that. Let’s just say all that stuff about boogeymen is an exaggeration. We’re nothing more than enforcers who happen to be really damn good at what we do, so please, just ignore my reputation. I’d rather you didn’t think of me in that light. . . . Night had descended in force by the time Viktor and I left the safehouse. We had a ways to go before we had to split up, so we kept each other company. “Honestly, what’s the boss playing at?” Viktor announced. “What are you playing at?” I asked. “No time for jokes he says, yet he goes through the trouble of sneaking up on us nice and quiet, making a grand entrance. What purpose could he have for that if not for our amusement?” “I don’t think that’s the case at all.” I tried and failed to imagine Xander going out of his way for the sake of anyone but himself. “I’m telling you, don’t let the overweight bastard get to you. He’s a nice guy despite the airs he puts on.” Viktor tittered. “And the pounds.” “I fail to see what his weight has to do with anything.” “Garm. It’s simple when you think about it. Do you have any idea how many people are starving in this city alone?” As if to illustrate his point, a vagrant using the gutter as a bed began coughing his guts up. “If only fat, old Xander didn’t eat so much. There’d be more to go around! Hence, despite stealing food from the needier, he is a nice guy.” Viktor is . . . how can I put this? Best in small doses. And only when you’re sick. I stopped as we came to the end of the block. “I’m this way,” I said, pointing to the right. “You can’t just leave me hanging!” “See you later.” I waved as I put my back to him. . . . It was perhaps an hour after leaving Viktor that I heard the thunder come rumbling, only there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The stars and moon shone bright and true. I dashed off in the direction it emanated from after a moment’s hesitation. I slowed down when I thought I was getting close and took care not to make a noise. “You monster! You already have the money!” The shrill voice came from a second story window directly above me. I stopped dead. A noise followed the voice, and it took a while for my brain to realize what it was. Laughter. “You think all I care about is money?” the laughing man asked. “If only! Then I wouldn’t have to waste my time with dreck like you. No, we’re not here to take your money. We’re here to take everything you own, and that includes your life.” The thunder was so close this time I felt the vibrations rumble through me. A bright flash of lightning exploded from the window followed immediately by something warm and wet flying out and landing all over me. I wiped some off my face. There was more than enough moonlight to see it was blood. “How the hell is this possible?” I whispered. I snapped out of it. After all, I had a job to do. But what could I do against someone who had the power of a god behind them? Time to find out. I rounded the corner just as the Sabers who had assaulted the Hounds couriers were leaving the building. There were only two of them. One had a sack that was undoubtedly the money being transported. The other carried some kind of object in his hand. Normally I’d have struck before they even realized I was there, but I had to face this man who had the power to make it rain blood. “Hey!” They both turned. “This is none of your business,” the man with the strange object said. “If you value your life, you’ll turn away and walk right now.” Silence. “No? Then die!” He leveled the object at me. I got my first good look at it. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was a long, metal tube attached to some wood with something glowing red-hot poking out on top near the backend of it. In the moment before the tube discharged, I realized what an idiot I’d been. I dodged right. As something whizzed past my face, the throwing knife left my hand and thudded into the Saber’s head. All of a sudden, the other Saber didn’t look so confident. The sack slipped from his hands as I advanced. . . . Raven was in his usual seat at the Fourteen Hearths when I walked in, weapon in hand. I threw the thing on the table and half fell, half sat down. He looked briefly at me and then at my catch. “I never thought I’d see one of these up close again so soon,” he said. I blinked. “You know what it is?” “I believe it’s called an arquebus. It makes use of a compound called saltpeter. When ignited, it explodes with enough force to project a metal ball fast enough to do some real damage.” I pulled out my pipe. “You’re such an ass.” Raven shrugged. “You didn’t ask.” . . . And just what is there to learn from this story? Is it that gangs are bad? But I’d be just another vagrant if there weren’t any around to join. Sorry to disappoint you, but if you thought you could better yourself through my shitty experiences, you got another thing coming! I mean, how is that even fair? I go through all the trouble and you reap the rewards? Yeah right! Well, it was nice talking to you. This is the first time I’ve told anyone all of what happened back then, and it feels great to air it all out. Maybe you’ll learn something next time. Until then. Spoiler: Chapter 1: The Wrath of Gods Chapter 2: Hazy Night Woes Chapter 3: Faces, New and Familiar Chapter 4: Hounds of Hell Chapter 5: The Other Side of the Coin Chapter 6: Survival of the Fittest Chapter 7: Just Another Story

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Xenon FAKKU Writer

9 years ago

Hey, you kept with it for quite a while regardless. You should work on things you feel motivated for and you accomplished quite a lot with this story. If you decide to come back to it in the future and continue it, that would be pleasant, but until that day arrives I'll look forward to seeing whatever you produce, even if it's to a story I have yet to delve into.

d(^_^)(^_^)d

9 years ago

Xenon wrote...

Don't get me wrong. I will absolutely continue this story some day. I just won't be finishing the second draft of what I have right now.

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