Semari dodged the chain as it whistled through the air, the curved hook taking a chunk out of a wooden post. Various shouts and jeers came from the crowd surrounding them, mostly insulting her. She jumped back as Korran yanked on the chain, breaking it out of the post, the hook barely missing her. A hit from that thing would really hurt! Korran swung it, sound getting louder as he moved faster and faster, getting ready to attack again. Ranged stuff like that was cheating! Or at least really hard to fight back against. For all his bulk, he was fast, and smart enough to keep his distance. Although at least he had agreed to fight her, without being a dick about it.

They were in a sunken pit, filled with debris and garbage, the rest of the gang yelling from above. It was far too open, and every time she tried to get close, he would drive her back with the damn chain, swift rolling arcs forcing her backwards. Eventually, she’d screw up a dodge, and then it would all be over. She glanced around, trying to find something to use to turn the fight to her advantage. It looked like an empty canal basin, walls rough enough that she could climb up, but that would leave her totally open, and running away wouldn’t solve anything. There was garbage over the floor, but most was too damaged to be used as a shield, or too big or heavy to throw. Neitha was circulating, passing out drinks and flirting with the thugs, between gleefully shouting for Semari’s defeat. She’d have to beat her up later, out of principle.

She threw herself to the ground as the hook cut the air just above her, snapping back just shy of the far wall. His control of it was damn good, which wasn’t fair. Gang thugs were meant to be idiots that used knives and stuff, not actually be good at this stuff! She scuttled forward, flipping out of the way as an overhead arc bought it smashing down where she had been, debris rising into the air, then snapping back out of reach. So much for that plan.

A stub of wood came to hand as she tried to advance again. The hissing sound as the hook cut the air was a regular beat, a certain level of momentum needed to keep the attack moving. The tempo changed slightly, and she dove to the side, rolling to her feet and evading another attack.

‘Ain’t you ashamed to stay back like this? Get in and fight proper!’

Korran smirked. ‘Hey, I could do this all day. Stop jumping about and give in. You’d make a nice snack up at the arena, could get some coppers for your dancing there. But your coz is pretty fancy, she can stay!’ He moved as if to attack, Semari dodging too soon as she fell for the feint, hook slamming out. She twisted and rolled with the blow, as the hook slammed into her, knocking the wind from her and ripping her skin. She tried to grab at it, but it was too fast, flicking out of reach. ‘Sure you don’t want to surrender? Beating someone into paste isn’t normally my style, but if you’re going to come at a big man, you need more than just fists!’

The wound didn’t feel too bad, but that might just be the adrenaline. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the pain, then focused on the sound of the chain, the high, steady whupwhupwhup as it spun. He could fake it a bit, but to attack, he had to change the rhythm, and that was her chance. He attacked again, using wide arcs designed to keep her away and drain her stamina more than be effective attacks, but giving Semari a better idea of his timings each time. As long as she stayed standing, he mostly used horizontal attacks, and that was an opening. It would hurt, and was probably stupid, but it should work, and Kethys wasn’t here to criticise. Probably. She glanced around at the shadows, watching for twin red glints, not seeing anything.

The sound of the chain changed, just a little bit, and Semari stopped, waiting until the last second so he couldn’t pull it back or adjust the strike, then stepped forward to change the point of impact, raising her arms into a block. The chain crashed into her arms, the pain making her hiss, but she twisted quickly, making sure it was wound tightly around her forearms, the hook now hanging limp and useless. Then she charged forward, the weight of the chain dragging at her.

Korran hadn’t dropped the chain, but he was drawing a fist back to strike. This close, it was hard to miss the dull shine of brass, a knuckleduster around his fat, meaty fingers. That would hurt, but she could deal with it, even if having her arms chained up was a pain. She dodged the punch, leaping up and crashing an elbow down onto the top of his head, landing and following up with swift kicks to his legs, targeting weak points. He was tough, even as he took the impacts, his other arm swirling around and tightening the chain, wrapping her up and restricting her arms even more. It didn’t stop her attacking completely, but it meant she couldn’t put much power into her attacks. She took a half-step backwards, staring up at him.

‘Nice try. But you watching this fist? You watching this fist?’ She shook one of her fists at him, moving as much as she could, the chain bound around itself and not loosening. ‘Cos you shoulda been watching that foot.’

He collapsed to the ground with a loud groan and a heavy thud as she kicked him squarely between the legs. She followed up with a series of swift kicks to whatever bits he couldn’t move to protect fast enough, aiming for the kidneys, arms and head, until he was curled up into a protective ball and whimpering. She started scrabbling at the chain, trying to get the damn thing unwound, in case he had any followers loyal enough to protect him.

‘Right then, Korran’s down, so, like, I’m in charge now, right?’ She tried to remember what she’d actually come here to do, reaching into a pocket for Kethys’ list. ‘Yeah, so you’ve been getting paid by the rich bastards to do their dirty work, and that’s bad.’ She stamped down on the still-conscious Korran. ‘So, what you’re going to do is, you’re going to point the way to…’ She looked at the list, trying to work out what Kethys had written. The spiky, angular script of the dark elves made everything look evil and spooky, but trying to work out what she actually meant was a bugger, what with having utterly different sounds. ‘…Avancara. Avancala? Avinsula? Then I’m going to beat them up as well.’

She jumped and scrabbled up the walls, getting out of the fighting pit – it was hard to be bossy when looking up at people you could barely see. The rest of the gang were very mixed – a few hardcases, but most were just scratty kids, better at cutting purses than any heavy work. Although they all seethed with restless energy, twitching and jolting slightly, Neitha’s brew at work.

‘So, Avincara. He’s a bastard, right, and you all hate him, right? So let’s go beat the crap out of him.’

One of the kids hissed, eyes glinting oddly. Whatever the hell Neitha had dosed them with wasn’t just a normal drug, it looked like. But he didn’t grow claws or burp flames, so hopefully it would wear off without aftereffects. She stared back, suddenly stepping forward as though to attack, and they backed down, cowed. ‘Yeah, don’t you be starting nothing.’ She watched as Neitha handed out more drinks. ‘Let’s go get those bastards!’

It wasn’t particularly stirring, but it seemed to do the trick, especially when Semari clipped one of the more hesitant thugs around the ear and gave them a shove towards the exit.

Neitha handed her a drink, and she almost downed it, before remembering, and pouring it out. ‘Hey! What are you trying to do?’

‘Thought you might want a bit more energy.’ She looked entirely unconcerned, although wasn’t drinking herself.

‘Don’t poison me! Any idea where the hell we’re going next? Don’t wanna start a riot, at least not yet.’

Neitha sighed. ‘Kethys’s instructions were very clear. Smalldock is close by, where Avancular Blackknife leads the Ironshark Cutters.’ She pointed at the paper, running a hand (almost offensively clean, the nails neatly trimmed and painted red, showing that she didn’t do any real work) along the angular writing. ‘That should cause some interesting disruptions. And then there are several smaller groups scattered amongst the rest of the docks, which should be drawn by the chaos, and you can deal with them, while I do my work. Now, I would strongly urge you to herd this rabble somewhere else, before they start attacking each other.’

One reached out to grab at Neitha, as she swatted their hand away, before hiding behind Semari. She grabbed their hand and pushed, forcing them to step back or have their wrist dislocated. ‘Right then, you bastards, let’s go raise some hell!’ One hissed at her, before she punched him, not too hard, but enough to show she meant business. Gang warfare was always fun, you could punch anyone, and there was normally food and drink for the taking. ‘So let’s go get those bastards!’ There was something of a cheer, although it was rather raggedy and confused. ‘And then I’ve got some others. Like, I’ve got an actual list, so this might take a while, I’m saying. Time to go get some vengeance and stuff! Get some rep, make your bones, score some jink.’

It didn’t take long to get everyone moving, especially once she found their stash of booze, handing out bottles, taking a swig of some herself, making sure that Neitha hadn’t been able to spike it first. Rough, and somehow tasted like fish, but hey, better than nothing. It didn’t mix well with the taste of the healing potion, but at least it patched her up. There was a lot of buried grudges and petty hatred between all the gangs, always made them easy to stir up. If this was all they had then this would be over soon, nice and simple.

They swept out into the sunlight, drunk and angry. The dockworkers steered clear, smart enough to not to want to get caught in whatever was going on. The next gang over was fortunately close by, a splashy marking graffitied onto the walls, a big axe, edges curved and spiked. As long as it wasn’t another damn chain, axes she could deal with! A few goons guarding the boundary were easy to deal with, quickly retreating in the face of superior numbers, before they swept forward, yelling and shouting, helpfully scaring off those uninvolved.

This gang were clearly doing better for themselves, operating out of a bar. A crappy, trashy bar, where the drinks came straight from the barrel via a funnel, a copper buying however long you could go for without taking a breath, but still a bar. The occupants leapt to their feet, half already scrabbling for any exit, the rest squaring up to fight.

‘We’re just here for Avinacara, or whatever they’re called. Word on the street is they’re taking money from those bastards in the castle, and that’s wrong! So hand them over and we’ll leave.’

Silence swept over the room, a shadow falling over Semari from behind. She turned around to find a huge figure standing behind her, stripped to the waist to show off their scar- and tattoo-laden chest. In one hand was a two-headed battleaxe, the edges razor-sharp. He grinned, swinging the axe to rest it on a broad shoulder.

‘So, what’s this I’m hearin’ about? You lot have a lot ‘o nerve coming around here, after what we did to your lot last time, pissy small-fry. So clear off, and we might not kill the lot of you.’

Semari didn’t bothered responding, kicking backwards at his shin, following with an elbow to his gut. Violence exploded, fists and knives flying out. The narrow space made his axe a mercifully poor weapon, impossible to swing at full force. Plus with people everywhere, he couldn’t wind up properly without hitting something else, the axe always cutting into tables, chairs or narrowly missing other fighters. He had stamina, shaking off Semari’s blows, until she picked up some shattered chair-legs to use as clubs. She overwhelmed him, attacking faster than he could block entirely, sticks thudding into his flesh. He swung the axe, cleaving through the bar, beer pouring to the ground as he cleaved through a drinking tube, the bar getting sliced in half, the axe embedding itself in the ground.

Before he could tug it out, Semari attacked, kicking out at his knee, making his leg crunch unpleasantly, sending his balance teetering. As he started to fall forward, he stumbled into Semari’s uppercut, as she jumped and slammed her fist into his jaw with enough force to knock him into the air. His body fell backwards, smashing down with a loud crash, breaking through a table. He twitched and gurgled for a moment, before slumping into unconsciousness.

Semari gave him a kick, just to make sure, before punching a random thug charging at her. ‘Oi! Your boss is down, so everyone stop fighting!’ A blow hit her from behind, a length of wood shattering across her back. She spun around. ‘Hey, don’t be a dick!’ She grabbed her attacker by the shirt, yanking him forward and headbutting him, before shoving him backwards and hooking one of his legs, making him fall over, grabbing a hand and twisting the fingers and elbow painfully to keep him locked in place. ‘When your boss is down, you stop fighting! That’s, like, a rule or something. So stop fighting, unless you want me to rip your fingers off and make you eat them.’

He supressed a grunt of pain as she bent his fingers to the edge of snapping. Seeing someone incapacitated, Neitha felt safe in approaching, grabbing his hair and yanking, pouring drink down his throat. Whatever the hell she was using worked fast, to judge by his body stiffening, although that might just be him trying not to drown in beer. Semari let him go, trying to get a sense for the general flow of the fight. With the big guy down, the tide had turned, the group with her sweeping over the survivors, extracting street justice for past sins. Which mostly consisted of putting the boot in. Semari nodded in approval – always kick a man when he’s down, it’s the time when he’s least able to kick you back.

She accepted a drink, knocking back half the bottle in one. A heat started to burn in her belly, more than just booze, a red tinge creeping into her mind. She took a deep breath, trying to control herself.

‘Did you just poison me? Gods, that stuff is pretty strong.’ One of the stragglers came at her, broken bottle in hand, as she ducked and grabbed his wrist, flipping them off their feet and smashing them into the floor, breaking their wrist to stop them doing it again. Anger burnt inside her, hot and crimson, leaving her wanting to do nothing more than hurt people.

Neitha had her knife in hand, ready to stab anyone that got too close, although was still hiding behind Semari. ‘It makes my life easier. Now go out there and be violent at people, it’s what you’re good at.’

Semari managed to resist a wave of rage that wanted nothing more than to attack Neitha, smash her face and break her body, but instead she heaved the axe out of the floor, swinging it and letting the weight sweep her around, almost pulling her off her feet. Neitha jumped backwards, able to move when at risk, before Semari was able to stop herself, resting the thing on her shoulders. It was stupidly heavy, but the guy had pretty big muscles. Still, it looked cool, despite being stupid as a weapon.

Everyone still around was helping themselves to the booze, extracting vengeance or both. Semari could feel her heart racing, urging her to action. She swung the axe, letting its weight carry it through the air, slamming it into one of the walls, cutting partway through a supporting pillar. ‘RIGHT THEN, EVERYONE LISTEN UP!’ It felt like if she didn’t move, then her heart would explode. Which it probably wouldn’t, unless Neitha was being really mean. ‘This place sucks, you’re all pissed, let’s go raise hell.’ She felt fever-hot, sweat starting to trickle down her body. Neitha was watching with interest, probably taking mental notes.

There was a raggedy roar in response. Gods, what the hell was that stuff? It was like having raw rage dumped into her soul. She glanced at her hand just in case it was turning into a demonic claw or something, but it looked normal, at least for now. ‘Let’s go bash someone in!’

Neitha whispered from the sidelines. ‘Jaylarni and the Broken Fangs.’

‘Jalmi and some dudes! Let’s go!’

They rushed outside, Semari grabbing Neitha and dragging her along, so at least she couldn’t duck out of everything, and take care of her part of the job.