The Good, The Bad, and The Chiseled

[Gaston]

Gaston rode into town on a horse, the sun (or what little that was that was able to shine through the treetops) beating down on his back. He was greeted by a great divide. On one side was a group of labourers, gruff and large men with a few smaller people giving out commands. On the other was a large and varied group of workers, each one communicating with laughs and with no apparent leaders. And in the centre was a building, with a poorly written "SALOON" sign hanging on its side. Wary, he set off into the Saloon, converting his horse back into raw Omnilium. 

When Gaston entered the bar itself, he saw immediately a fight going on. A large, gruff-looking human facing off against a smaller elf, who was grinning madly. 

"Fifty coins on the big one!" Gaston looked over and saw a crowd watching the fight. The human was apparently winning, having slammed the elf onto the ground. But the elf made a quick hand motion and the human fell to the ground, paralysed. He hopped up and walked over to the human, making yet another motion and kicking the larger man. The man was set aflame and screamed. But somehow the flame never reached the ground, staying contained on the man's body. Soon, his screams were silenced as his body contorted into a black and shrivelled corpse. The elf bowed in front of the crowd, where several other people, primarily elves, were watching. They had bloodthirsty grins and several tossed coins in the elf's direction. He let out a toothy smile and collected the money, before heading to the bar. 

"Argonian ale. Make it fast!" The barkeep nodded silently, pouring a glass full of the sickly thick black stuff, then handing it to the elf who tossed a few coins at her. "It'll be extra if you take that shirt off!" He laughed as he took a drink of the ale. The barkeep rolled her eyes and collected the coins, which had fallen on the ground. 


Gaston stepped further inside and looked around. Aside from a few orcs sitting at their own table and the now-dead human, it was all elves. A child approached him, holding out a cracked ceramic bowl containing a few slimy coins. She seemed like a beggar of some kind but stopped her wide eyes and pitiful look when she saw him.

"You're a stranger. We don't like strangers around here." She grinned at him. "Better watch out."

"Ha! You think anyone here can hurt me? The great Gaston? I doubt it!" He pushed her away and walked to the bar, sitting on a stool and pulling a small pouch of pre-summoned coins from his waist. "Hey! Bartender! I want you to take the strongest whisky you have, and mix it with beer!"

She looked at him with a strange look.

"You sure? We elves aren't exactly lightweights." 

"And neither am I!" She complied with his request, shaking her head. The barkeep handed the frothing liquid to him, and he tossed the pouch onto the counter. "You can take it all!" 

"Okay, what's up? You're fucking with me or something. Right?" Gaston didn't answer. He was too busy chugging the cup of dark alcohol. 

"You can take it all because that's not my only drink! More!" He had already downed the entire glass and set it down on the counter. 

"No sir, I...I really think you should stop."

"What did I say?!" She stepped back and grabbed the glass, raising her eyebrows. But as he said, she filled the cup back up. This time, though, he only drank half of the glass, turning to the elf who had gotten into a brawl. 

"Hey, uh, skinny man! What... what's going on in the town?" He took another swig.

"You wanna know what's going on around here? Well, well, well! You're a newcomer! Yeah, we don't get many of those! But I bet you are wondering if that human was a newcomer! And yes, he was! Now,-"

"Shut it!" Gaston said. "Just, just tell me what the... the town is!"

"Heh, so you're sassing me!" 

"What? Nobody passed you, we...we're not playing uh, card-Barkeep, more! The whole bottle!" The barkeep, now having given up, complied and passed him the bottle of ale. He chugged it in one gulp and turned to the elf. "You wanna fight! I'll fight you!"

"Eh? We gotta fighter! A fighter here! OOH, YEAH! I'LL TAKE YOU DOWN, BIG BOY!" The elf jumped down from the bar stool he was at and raised up his fists, hopping around mockingly. Gaston was slower to get up but still made his way over, stumbling. "Alright, big human man! No weapons, and if you lose, I kill ya! It's simple!"

"Okay, little al-elffff man. I'll...I'll fight ya! I'll take ya down!" The elf spared no chance for him to talk, jumping up and headbutting him in the gut. "Ugh!" 

"Big man talk a big talk, but can't fight a little man! Ha!"

"Sh...shut up! I don't talk big you can't do that!" Gaston jumped at him, his super jumping still in effect. He tackled the elf, slamming them both into the ground and causing the elf to hit his head. 

"Agh! You damn idiot!" Gaston began whaling on him, punching with no remorse straight at his head. The elf soon got a black eye and a bruised lip. But he repeated a familiar hand gesture, and Gaston went limp, falling over. "Heh! And since you're such an asshole, I won't even kill ya yet! You gotta wait!" He slammed his foot into Gaston's head, but Gaston's healing had taken effect, and the paralysation wore off. He lifted his head up.

"What? Rabbit, no fighting! That's...that's for tricks!" (The healing had apparently not helped his brain)

"Impossible! Nobody can get out of my paralysing sign!" 

"I... I tore down that sign! You can't write!" Gaston kneed the elf on the chin, then slapped him to the ground. "Stop being colours you're not a cube!" He stomped down on the elf's head, causing his skull to crack and him to completely die. 

"I... I'm gonna take a sleep now." Gaston passed out on the floor, next to the body of his newest kill.

[Gaston]

Gaston awoke in a cushioned bed, the elven barmaid standing near him.

"So you're awake now? Lucky for you, that bag of coins you gave me was enough for this." She handed him a bowl full of a thick, deep green liquid. "Drink. It'll help with your hangover" He hesitantly pulled it up to his mouth, taking a sip, before immediately spitting it back into the bowl.

"You expect me to drink this? It's terrible!"

"Drink it or get out. You're not getting your money back." Gaston grumbled, but chugged it down, with some slight gagging.

"So, since the guy last night-"

"The guy you got in a fist fight with. The dead one."

"Yes, that is what I said. So, that guy last night was absolutely useless! He didn't.." Gaston clutched his head. "Agh. He didn't give me any information on this town! I need to know what's happening around here."

"Heh. Well, the only information you should need is to get out. We don't take kindly to strangers here. You'll be dead in a few days. I guarantee it. But if you insist on staying-"

"I do."

"Shut it. If you insist on staying, I'll tell you. So there's two big powers here, the Doomcleaver's and the Sylran's."

"Hold on-Doomcleaver's? That's a bit obviously dramatic. I love it!"

"I swear... Shut your mouth, or I'm kicking you out! So, Doomcleaver's are run by Taugh Doomcleaver, an orc. He came here about a year ago, just settled down and got himself some territory and a group of followers. They've got a hard process to get in, but once you're in, they'll treat you like family. The Sylran's are named after their leader too. Ilrune Sylran. He's a powerful wizard, and an elf. Pretty reclusive, and if he comes out, then that means trouble. He tends to recruit anyone willing. We normal folk don't try to get involved. Just tend to our shops, sell our wares, whatever. Oh and, word of advice: carry a weapon with you if you go anywhere."

Gaston grinned. The perfect town! All he'd need to do is work for both of them. Profit on the deception, steal as much as he could get from them, and leave. A simple task. He began formulating a plan in his mind. He'd go for Sylran first. He recruited more people and so he could join easier. Afterwards he could go to Doomcleaver, when he had realised how to impress them. So he got up and prepared to execute his plan, stumbling out of the bed.

"I'm leaving."

"Oh wow. I never would have expected given that you stood up." Gaston ignored her and stumbled out. He began a walk out onto the street, holding his hand above his eyes. But his eyes still hurt from the bright light of the sun. He approached a nearby goblin who was working on something wooden. Gaston tried to talk, but couldn't get the words out before the goblin spoke up.

"Come here for a minute! I need to measure you." His voice was croaky, like a frog.

"What do you want? I'm busy trying to find the Sylran's!"

"More reason for me to measure you. You want to fit in your coffin, right?"

"Coffin? I'm strong! I won't need a coffin!"

"Well, I'm not exactly asking. Get over here." Gaston grumbled but complied. The goblin pulled out a long tape measure. "Now, this will only take a moment!"

*

An Elf sat with runes on her gloves glowing. She charged a fireball in her hand, then dispersed it, repeating it several times. It was her first mission for the Doomcleavers. She had to perform recon, find out what the Sylran's were planning, and then get back. Simple. But she'd need to stay all day until she found something. And that scared the hell out of her. She charged a blast in her palm and shot up with both, landing on the roof of a tall wooden building. She felt along the roof until she found a weak plank, slamming it down. She hung from the created ledge and climbed onto the ceiling, secreting a sticky goop onto one hand and her feet. With the other hand she performed a small motion and put the plank back into place, before climbing to a storage ledge and beginning to watch the main room. Nothing. So, she'd wait. As long as it would take.

*

Gaston walked away from the goblin, shaking his head. 

"Thank you for your business! Well, thanks in advance, anyway," the raspy goblin said with a small chuckled. Gaston walked away as fast as he could. 

"Dammit..." He walked to a man nearby, not wanting to talk to the goblin anymore. "You! Do you know how I can join the Sylran's?"

"Picked a good person. I'm Iolrath Daerel. Sylran recruiter. You can handle yourself in a fight?"

"Better than anyone!" 

"Optimism! I like that. Alright, so we're gonna take you to one of our bases, and we'll introduce you!" He began walking and Gaston followed. He then picked up a purple and golden gun out of a holster on his belt and tossed it to Gaston. "You'll need that. Standard issue for the Sylran's." Gaston grinned.

"More firepower! Amazing," he muttered under his breath. He pumped Omnilium into it to reinforce it and give it more power, and followed Iolrath to the Sylran base.

*

The Elf kept crouching on the storage area, watching below. There were some people there, but nothing interesting. They ate, made some crass jokes about the Doomcleavers, but otherwise there was nothing important. That is, until a tall Elf walked in with a burly man. And from the looks of it, a new recruit. Could this be important? She pulled out a spyglass and zoomed in, watching closely.

*


Gaston walked into the main base, making casual conversation with Iolrath. He seemed like a nice man. It was a shame that he'd probably die when Gaston betrayed him. He'd have to avoid him when attacking with the Doomcleavers. 

"So, what'll we be doing as the Sylran's? Got any missions I can help with?" Gaston spoke intentionally as a subordinate, ready to please. Gain their loyalty! A great plan, as always.

"We've got something. So, the Doomcleavers recently got a large group of their men taken out... 'by wolves'. The funeral is tomorrow. We'll be ambushing."

"That sounds spectacular. Any specific plan?"

"Not much, but we know some of our members will be hiding in the coffins. When they begin hymns, or whatever those savages do, they jump out and attack. Actually, would you be up for that?"

"Of course!" Gaston grinned. This was his type of plan.

*

The Elf had heard enough. She began to creep away, but misplaced one step, and a loud creak echoed. She cringed, and began charging up an attack, just in case.

*

Gaston looked up at the storage area, and saw the Elf standing there. 

"Iolrath!" He yelled while running up the stairs. He pulled out his new pistol and began to fire rapidly, attacking the Elf as lethally as possible. Her eyes widened, and she let loose an attack of pure energy before rolling to the right. Some attacks grazed her, but most of the bullets missed. Her blast slammed Gaston backwards, causing him to hit the wall. She leapt up and went for the ceiling, hoping to escape.

"Dammit! How'd they get in here?!" Iolrath pulled out a rifle from his back and began firing at her, hitting her arms and making her fall. She shot fireballs at Iolrath and Gaston, just as Gaston was picking himself up. He walked forward through it, the fireball weak. He let another shot loose as Iolrath fell from the pain, hitting her in the leg. Blood splattered onto the wooden floor, staining it as she fell over. 

"Nononono! Don't! Whatever you're thinking, please don't!" Gaston kicked her in the side. 

"Don't give me orders!" He spoke savagely, as he began picking her up. He walked to a nearby crate, picking up rope from inside and tying her up. She struggled, but remained in the binds. "Where will I take her?" Iolrath forced himself up, a look of awe on his face. 

"Oh, uh... just put her in um, the room back there." He pointed to a small door in the corner. "And uh, good job. You're definitely..." He coughed and winced. "Sorry. You're a Sylran now. For sure." 

Gaston smiled and placed her down. His plan was going perfectly.

[Gaston]

Early in the morning, a scream rang out in the small town. It was silenced by the loud sound of a revolver. A bounty hunter had arrived. And he had just taken out his first target. This one was simple. Petty crimes in the Dunes. Apparently tried to run away here and start a new life. Didn't realise that he couldn't escape. In the Omniverse, things followed. The bounty hunter knew.


*

Gaston woke up in a bed with his shirt off, and bandages covering where he had burns. He tore them off with a grunt. The wounds were gone, as he expected. His healing power was working wonderfully. However he had gotten it. When he looked over to the other side of the room, he saw that was not the case for Iolrath. The elf was lying in bed, groaning. 

"You're up. We got the girl to spill some info. Where the funeral is gonna be. We just killed her. We're doing the ambush soon." The elf's speech was occasionally interrupted by coughing or groans. Those fireballs were worse than they seemed.

"Good. It'll be nice to take out those rats."

"Ha! I see you're already in the Sylran spirit!" 

"Well, it's obvious that the Doomcleavers are a bunch of fools who can't fight. You were the obvious decision for a manly man like me!" A complete lie. But with every lie Iolrath became more enthralled. More trusting of Gaston. So he'd never suspect it was Gaston who betrayed him. Never suspect that it was his friend and partner who would leak secrets to the Doomcleavers. At least, that was the plan.

"So, you got any uh, thing you gotta do?" 

"I do not. As long as all my weapons are summoned in time, I will be an unstoppable force of destruction!"

"Very nice." 

"I'm going to go to scope out the town a bit more. See if there's anything I can use to my-our advantage."

"Be my guest. I'll uh, just lie here. May have to sit this ambush out."

Gaston didn't pay attention at all. He was preoccupied with his thoughts of how he'd get information.



*



The bounty hunter walked into the saloon. The sunlight revealed him as wrapped all around in cloth, thick gloves covering his hand and a bandanna on his face. His eyes were shrouded by sunglasses. He walked up to the counter.



"Did you see anyone suspicious come through here? Anyone with some reputation?" His voice was cold and distant, with a slight ringing to it. The bartender laughed.



"Just about everybody in this town has a reputation, buddy. If you're looking for work you're better off asking someone with business in chaos. I just sell whiskey."



"Alright." The bounty hunter began walking out, but was stopped by a nearby woman.



"If you want work, come with the Sylran's. We won't make you a member, given your occupation, but we'll pay you to take people out."



"How can you tell my occupation?"



"With an outfit like that, you aren't exactly inconspicuous. Now, you want the work or not?"



"Yes. Of course."



*



"So the Doomcleavers-they're recruiting?" Gaston was speaking in a seedy bar. A sauhagin floated across from him in a shallow pool, its scales reflecting what little light there was.



"Oh, I don't know, I haven't heard." Gaston sighed and flipped him a golden coin. "Good. Yes, I have heard they're losing numbers recently. Looking to fill the ranks back up.



"Good. And they'll take anyone?" The fish-beast stared at him blankly. "Damn it," Gaston muttered. He tossed another coin at him.

"Yes. They're desperate enough to even take a meathead like you."

"Why-you mongrel!" Gaston threw his ale mug at the beast, but it ran into a back room. Gaston chased him, but saw only a hatch leading into a narrow and deep pool of water. No way he could fit in there. He walked away, defeated. Next time he saw that monster, he'd kill it! It demanded his money for barely any info, and insulted him! Him! The great Gaston! He walked back to the Sylran meeting place, anger fuming inside him.

*

"Good, you're here." A man spoke almost immediately as Gaston walked back in. "We were almost going to start without you." 

"Well, that would've been a mistake!"

"Ha! Sure, yeah. Now, that's everybody."

"Yep. So, the current plan is this," Iolrath spoke hunched over a table, breathing somewhat heavily. "Gaston, Phaendar, Blankdr, you get in the coffins and wait until we distract the enemies. The rest of us will be running in and drawing the Doomcleavers attention so you can jump out of the coffins and kill them. Got it?" Everyone nodded. "Good. I'll be staying here, but I trust you all to uphold the plan." He glanced at Gaston as he said that. Gaston grinned back at him, and the group began walking to a large field. They arrived within minutes, a goblin waiting there.

"You boys better not get caught. And more importantly-you better not blame me. I'll deny it all."

"Shut it Grimbo. We're gonna smoke em," a young looking elf with red hair said.

"Heh! Either way, I get paid. Just saying, don't drag me down with you!" Gaston scowled at the goblin, connecting that it was the one who had forced him to get measured. The group walked over to the coffins. There were five, and each one of the group who was getting into them took one. They pried the lids off, immediately faced with a dillema.

"What the hell are we doing with the bodies?" The red-haired elf said, glancing at Gaston and then to an older, silver-haired elf who was also standing by a coffin. 

"I can dispose of them. Bring them to me," Gaston said. 

"You? I bet you're gonna burn them, or some dumb shit." 

"I would not be so foolish! Watch!" Gaston touched the body in his own coffin. It was grotesque, somewhat burnt in spots and dried up. He focused and converted the body into pure, raw Omnilium. He pulled it out, pushing it into his body. He gained a somewhat bright glow with the Omnilium intake.

"Oh. Well, um- I guess do that to ours." Gaston complied, sneering at the elf. He then squeezed into the coffin, his broad shoulders barely fitting. The other elves re-attached the coffin tops, and Gaston began a long period of waiting.

*

The bounty hunter stood on the top of a church with a sniper rifle, puffing on a cigar. He would wait for his target. It was a tall Pandaran, somewhat fat. Wouldn't be hard to spot in the large crowd of mostly elves. Poor sap was married to an idiot, and she had failed to pay a debt to the Doomcleavers. They were generous to her before, but she was warned of the consequences. Death of a loved one would sway her. He stood waiting for a while, until finally he saw the Pandaran at a fruit stand. One swift shot to the head did it, and he fell onto the ground, his happy-go-lucky grin contorted into a limp grimace. 

"Hey!" Someone screamed up at the bounty hunter. "Hey, I see him!" A man pulled out a glove to produce energy and began firing pellets at the bounty hunter. The bounty hunter jumped away from his perch, pulling a pistol from his belt. He fired back at them, grazing their arm. They continued firing, and he did likewise, until finally the pellet collided with his back as his bullet hit their chest. He fell onto the ground, and pulled himself up quickly. Not good. He'd need to learn how to evade attacks better. But it was done. He began heading back to the Doomcleaver he was hired to, ready to receive payment.

*

Gaston's coffin was moved now, arranged in a circle with the others. Gaston sat and waited, holding his blunderbuss against his chest. An elf was outside, reading funeral rites. Thanking the divine ones for their friends, the times they spent, and their honourable deaths. She was interrupted by an explosion, as the other Sylrans threw bombs at the funeral. A panic broke out, and Gaston sat up, breaking through the coffin. He fired with his blunderbuss, piercing one persons chest. Two seconds, and another shot, killing another Doomcleaver. One final shot took out a fleeing Argonian, and his magazine was emptied. He flung the gun at an elf, hitting them in the head. He pulled out his bow and arrow, firing as rapidly as he could at the crowd. One elf shot a crossbow at him, piercing his chest but only going a few inches deep. He left it in, not wanting to deal with blood loss. Gaston then charged, pulling out his knife and putting away the bow. He jabbed into the elf with a crossbow, hitting them in the chest and causing them to fall over. The burly man ran at an elf, attempting a new tactic. He put them in a choke-hold, then jumped as high as he could, maneouvering his body above the elf's.They slammed into the ground, snapping the elf's spine and causing a cracking sound in Gaston's side. He winced but was able to keep going. Looking around, he realised all the Doomcleavers were either dead or gone. They had won! All, of course, due to Gaston.

[Gaston]

The bounty hunter walked out into the middle of a field, holding a silenced pistol in hand. It looked suspicious, but it was truly more innocent than it seemed. He needed to clear his head. And what better way to do that than getting in some target practice before anyone else woke up? He set up a target absent-mindedly and stood back about five metres. He fired six shots quickly, focusing intently on the target. All bulls-eyes, except one deviant. More practice. He should be able to get all bulls-eyes. He loaded his gun again, ready to repeat the routine.


*



Gaston put the finishing touches on his new outfit. He had to fool the Doomcleavers into thinking he was just a newcomer to the town, and they'd probably recognise his clothing. So he had changed clothes, and was now wearing armour, primarily fur and leather but with bits of metal. He-with some reluctance-ruffled his hair and stuck out his bottom jaw. Gaston began to walk, slightly lopsided. The look was completed. He left the tall Sylran headquarters and headed toward the Doomcleavers base of operations.





*


The bounty hunter reloaded his gun as he prepared to head back into town. It had been decent practice. He had managed all bulls-eyes standing still and moving. He checked his Dataverse device, moving quickly and efficiently to reach down and grab it out of his pocket. A new bounty from the Doomcleavers. Find the people who had been responsible for the sabotage of the funeral last night. He checked the message and saw a blurry picture of a burly man in red and several elves. It was too blurry to properly pick out facial features, but he could somewhat recognise the person. He put his Dataverse device away and began a sweep across the town to see if he could find them.


*

Gaston arrived at a short stone building. Apparently this was where he could go to join the Doomcleavers. He walked in, and was greeted by a lean elf sharpening a spear.

"Hey. You 'ere to join the Doomcleavers?"

"Of course! My services will be incredibly valuable to you, I'm sure!"

"Ha! We'll see about that. Follow me." The elf lead Gaston down a series of winding corridors, each one going slightly downhill. After several minutes, they finally arrived in a room where an orc was waiting. "Hey boss. We got ourselves a new recruit 'ere." The orc scanned him with his eyes and grunted.

"You're here for combat, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, I love killing things." Gaston spoke slowly, trying to fit the role of "stupid brute" he had set up for himself.

"Ha! Well, we like to test our recruits before we let them in. If they're here to help build, we'll have them build something. Here for blacksmithing, they smith something. So, even you should be able to figure out the next step. Only one way to join if you're gonna be a soldier: trial by combat!"

"Huh. I can do that. Who are you? I wanna know your name."

"I'm Taugh Doomcleaver. Sylran might be too much of a coward to meet his recruits himself, but fortunately I'm not."

"Good. I like meeting the people I work for." 

"Enough with talk! Come on, newbie." Doomcleaver lead him through a doorway nearby to a room, weapons adorning the walls. "Pick your weapon, and then you'll face off against one of my champions." Gaston walked slowly to the wall and looked around. He picked up a mace and shield, and inspected them. They'd do. When Taugh wasn't paying attention, he imbued them with Omnilium, strengthening them to the level of all his other weapons. "You ready?"

"Yeah. I'll beat your champion!"

"Ha! I like your enthusiasm. Stay here." Doomcleaver walked out, and Gaston swung the mace around out of boredom. Eventually, the door in front of him opened and a voice boomed. 

"COME OUT, CONTESTANTS!" Gaston strutted out, then corrected himself and hunched over. He couldn't blow his cover by acting like himself-no matter how much torture it was to act like a fool. He looked around, seeing a large room with dust on the ground and seats all around. Taugh Doomcleaver sat in one, and there were several groups of other people who had come to watch. Opposite him was a thin elf with a wry grin, clacking two stones together in his hand. Gaston looked up at Doomcleaver, and he gave a large thumbs up. 

Gaston charged at the elf and lunged, tackling him onto the ground. He slammed his mace into the elf's shoulder, feeling a squish as he pierced skin. The elf's grin never faded, though, and he pushed him off with unexpected strength. Gaston was flung across the room, steadying himself as he slid across the floor. The elf threw one of the stones straight at Gaston's face, and it soared through the air. Gaston was confused for a second, when it seemingly randomly transformed into a tiger, suddenly lunging at him. He bashed out with his shield, intercepting the tiger's bared teeth with his slab of metal and wood. It growled at him as it landed, and lunged again. Gaston smacked it with his mace, but it managed to bite down on one arm. His shield slid off his arm as the tiger's teeth sunk down deeper and deeper. Gaston kneed it in the stomach, causing it to yelp and loosen its grip. Invigorated, Gaston reached down and lifted it up, heaving it across the room straight at the still-grinning elf. The elf was undisturbed, and he flipped a coin into the air. Mid-air, it turned into a falcon, diving at Gaston. Gaston jumped up as high as he could, then tried to weigh himself down. The falcon was below him, and on the way down he squeezed its wings and grasped it. It pecked at his face, but he ignored it. He viciously slammed its head against the ground, tossing its body aside.

"Is that all? Fight me yourself, coward!" Gaston picked his shield back up and he noticed that, just for a moment, the elf's grin flickered to fear. The burly man held his shield up, charging at him. The elf reached into his pockets, finding nothing. His grin flickered again, as he found nothing. Gaston slammed into him, knocking him onto the ground. He kicked him, throwing him through the air until he hit a wall. A crack could be heard as he slammed against it, and flopped limply onto the ground. 

"That qualify, Doomcleaver?" Gaston looked up at him as he yelled. Thaugh was watching with a slight smile, somewhere between being surprised and being impressed. 

"I have a feeling you were right, barbarian! You'll be perfect for the Doomcleavers!"

*

The bounty hunter walked into the Doomcleavers headquarters. His search had been mostly unsuccessful. He had found one elf who resembled one in the picture, but after some interrogation he determined they weren't involved. He hoped he could find more detail by asking the Doomcleavers. When he arrived, he saw a new person, a human. They were clad in leather and metal armour and had unkempt, jet black hair. The bounty hunter approached Taugh.

"This a new member?"

"Yeah. Managed to kill one of my best damn champions. He'll be useful." 

"Good." The bounty hunter walked past, glancing over. His eyes lingered on the man's face-surely, he knew him somehow. He passed it off as just the same body type as somebody he knew, but couldn't shake the suspicion. 

*

Gaston watched as a new person came in. He was clad completely in cloth, showing nothing of his body. He approached him shortly after he walked in.

"Hey. You're Doomcleaver?"

"Hired help."

"You hunt bounties? Alright. I'm," Gaston racked his brain for a name, pausing for a moment. "Grognar! I'm Grognar." He offered his hand for a handshake. 

"Good to meet you." The new man said nothing, just taking his hand and shaking it firmly. Taugh interrupted their meeting by approaching Gaston.

"Hey, Grognar. Got a mission, you ready to really prove you're a Doomcleaver?"

"Yes! I love to fight on missions." Gaston, again, spoke slowly to sound stupid. 

"Alright, you'll be going with Hassa to hunt down someone. He's been known to provide weapons to the Sylrans, and has refused our requests. Get rid of him, and bring us the arms."

"I won't get time to heal?"

"Seems you're already doing that well." Doomcleaver gestured toward Gaston's wounds, which were already nearly closed up.

"Alright." Just then, a short, dark-skinned elf came in with a bow around her torso.

"Hey, I'm Hassa. You ready to go destroy this punk?"

"Yeah. I'll kill him good."

"Ha! I like you, big guy." She led him out and they began a walk through the town to find the arms dealer.

*

The bounty hunter exited the Doomcleaver HQ. Nobody knew anything. Still, he felt like he knew Grognar from something. He headed to the tavern in the center of town, and approached the bartender. He pulled up an image of his targets on his Dataverse Device and showed it to her. 

"You seen any of these people?"

"That one in the red shirt came here a few days ago, got a room and stayed. Last I heard he was joining the Sylrans."

"You seen anything about him after he joined?" She shrugged.

"Not my business to know that." The bounty hunter sighed and began to leave, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw one of the elves who he had been told to kill. He sprinted over with a sudden burst of speed and slammed him against the wall, squeezing his hand around his throat. He began to struggle, until the bounty hunter lifted him into the air, and he could do nothing but kick his legs. The bounty hunter walked up to the counter.

"How much for a room?" The barkeep chuckled.

"20 coins a night." The bounty hunter slid over a pouch, then walked up the steps to the rooms and found a vacant one. Once inside, he pulled rope out of a sack and slammed the elf onto a chair before tying him up. The elf gasped, and began to heave his breaths.

*

Gaston and Hassa crept on a building top, next to a large storage building.

"This is where he keeps his weapons?" Gaston tried to put ignorance into his voice.

"I'm sure of it." Hassa clutched her bow. "You have any ranged weapons?" Gaston thought for a moment. What could he use that wouldn't make them suspect he was a Sylran? He summoned the purple pistol he had gotten from the Sylrans, and explained:

"I nicked this from a Sylran I killed on the way here." She nodded. 

"Nice. Listen, you go over there and start attacking. He's neutral, cause the Sylran's won't take ownership of him, so if they give backup it'll look suspicious. We should be good to take him out." Gaston nodded, then leapt over to the other building, slamming down and breaking the ceiling. He quickly shot a man he saw right in front of him, a burly elf brandishing a great sword. Up ahead were a scrappy looking goblin and an elf holding a rifle. The elf panicked, and began firing rapidly at Gaston. His shots were ruined by a quick arrow from Hassa, directly into his chest. The goblin tried to jump at Gaston, but Gaston managed to slam his mace into its head first, making a metallic clang and then a cracking sound, before the goblin fell to the ground. Gaston headed another room over, hunting for the arms dealer.

*

"Listen to me, you punk. I'll kill you. You should know I will. So, where the hell are the other people in the picture?" The bounty hunter was still grilling the elf.

"I told you everything, man! The other elves are at Sylran HQ. That burly guy-Gaston, I think-he just went missing! Nobody knows where he went!" The bounty hunter kicked his leg.

"You think I'm joking? Where is he?!" The elf shook his head.

"Look, if you don't believe me, shoot me then. Least I'll get out of this shitfest." The bounty hunter wasted no time in complying, placing the barrel of his pistol against his forehead and firing, causing a splatter on the floor. More work for the barkeep, the bounty hunter noticed. He should probably include something extra.

*

Gaston finally found the right room, opening the door and seeing the weapons dealer hunched in a corner with a pistol. Hassa had been trailing him, but they had long since split up, so it was up to Gaston. He raised his shield and ran in. The man let out a guttural sound, then began firing, but the bullets were blocked by Gaston's shield. The arms dealer threw his hands up and tears formed in his eyes.

"Fuck it man, kill me!" 

"What?"

"Kill me. You've got me here already, this was a dumb fuckin' idea. I shoulda never come here, now I gotta die for it. Now shoot me, dammit!" Gaston, somewhat surprised by his request, didn't respond. "What the fuck ever man. Can't rely on anyone for fuckin' anything in this shithole." The man sat there, sobbing. Gaston picked up the gun he had dropped and left him there, allowing him to be left in the room. Gaston walked out, seeing Hassa.

"Hey, you got him?"

"Yes. He's, uh, taken care of." She smiled.

"Good." 

"So how we gonna get these weapons back?" 

"Simple. Watch this." She walked over to each crate full of weapons and placed a small gem on top, causing them to teleport back to the Doomcleaver HQ. She picked up her Dataverse device just as they were done, then spoke.

"Hey, news. Boss says burn the place now that we're done." She pulled out a match and threw it in, making sure it ignited against a support pole before leaving with Gaston. They headed back to Doomcleaver HQ, content with a days work.