《The Long and Exciting Life of Kreet the Kobold (Life 2)》Gator
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"Okay, so you're good with that, right?" Sigmundurr asked as they walked towards the address Marge had marked on her map. "No more of that god damned Hold Person spell or anything?"
"Not today," Kreet said. "Today I'm not a cleric. Today I'm Kallid's wife and mother of his children."
As if to emphasize her words, she smacked the rod she carried into her fist. It was supposed to be a closet dowel, but today it might have a different purpose.
"That's more like it," Sigmundurr smiled. "Still, I don't see why I couldn't bring my hammer."
"I thought about it, believe me. But we're going to be outnumbered Sig. I just got you back to full health. I'm tapped out. If they want to kill us, they'll be able to. I'm hoping that won't be their aim. Hell Jake could have taken me out last night. Their way is through intimidation and only occasional violence to enforce it. I think you were an aberration, and to be perfectly blunt, you did attack him first. Besides, that hammer might be great on a battlefield, but one-on-one against a swordsman and I think he'd beat you."
"He was quick, wasn't he? I'll keep that in mind."
"He may be their intimidation on the street, but that doesn't mean he's all bluster. You'll be on your own this time. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. Have a little faith."
Kreet laughed at that, and she didn't even feel guilty. So much of her life had been left to blind faith. If nothing else, she had plenty of that. But this plan had nothing to do with Pelor.
They rounded the last corner and saw the building. Two stories. Not much for the headquarters of the ruling mob in the slums, but then it wasn't in the slums. But for the men standing in the courtyard, it could have passed for a decent middle-class tenement building. The streets didn't stink of garbage and shit here.
As they approached, two men ran inside the building, while three more stood menacingly along the road.
"Another one!" she heard one say.
"Shut up," said his comrade, and pulled a rather nasty looking hand mace from his belt.
As they approached, a man stepped out of the doors. A man they recognized.
They stopped just in front of the men guarding the courtyard, who formed up shoulder-to-shoulder.
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"I expect you've come to talk to the boss then?" Jake said from behind the toughs in front. "Or maybe you just want to buy your little scaly friend back?"
"Actually, neither," Sigmundurr said, and the eyes turned to him.
Kreet turned into a whirl of motion as soon as the attention had shifted off of her. The first man's head caved to her staff before any of them were even aware an attack was underway. The staff only rebounded back the other way as Kreet shifted the staff's angle and brought it against the next man's shin. He went over like a bowling pin, but the third man was still watching Sigmundurr for some sign of attack. But Sigmundurr just stood with his arms crossed, grim faced and watching the carnage unfold.
The man on the ground leaped unexpectedly at Kreet, arms out and screaming. Kreet backed off, preparing for the impact. But before he hit, she rolled over on her back, her hind legs foremost and talons fully extended. He couldn't stop if he'd wanted to.
Most of him travelled backwards at a greater speed than he'd been going forwards after her kick was complete. Between her muscled legs and an even more powerful push from her tail, he sailed through the air as if launched from a catapult. Most of him. He left a streamer of guts and blood in his wake as he began screaming and rolling on the ground after he landed.
This finally got the third man moving, but he didn't swing the mace as expected. Instead he threw it at her. She moved aside, striking at it with her staff, but it did graze her shoulder. But it had bought him time, and the twin daggers he held looked terribly sharp. She managed to bat one away as he closed on her, but then she had to drop her staff and caught the remaining arm with both of her own.
For a split second she saw Jake running towards her, but the shadow of Sigmundurr interposed itself, and she concentrated on keeping the dagger from her neck. Her arms were strong, but it took both of them to counter the man's single arm as his other arm wrapped around her - pulling her towards the knife.
She rolled, using her tail for leverage, but he never stopped the steady pressure and it was clear she couldn't shake him off. Her feet were unable to get an angle as she tried to kick his back uselessly. He was too close now. Her claws were useless as she used every ounce of energy just to keep the blade away.
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He pulled back, and shoved the dagger again, trying to shake her grip - but she knew she dare not let go and held his wrist away from her throat for dear life. Then she had an idea. Her feet were useless. Her claws were occupied. But she had another weapon.
Suddenly she pulled the dagger towards her, but to the left, letting it slide past her neck. It may have nicked her shoulder, but the result was what she'd hoped. His neck was now so very near, and her snout was much longer than his flat face. She opened her mouth and clamped it shut again, completely around his unprotected neck. She felt her sharp teeth engage in flesh and bone and a wet scream began.
The dagger fell away, as he released her, grabbing both sides of her snout and trying desperately to pry her jaws apart. She'd been called Gator before, and often. She was no alligator, but there were enough similarities. Her snout could be held shut by very little force. But opening it by main force - that would take superhuman strength. Her opponent didn't' have superhuman strength. His fingers scrabbled at her snout, but she did not relent.
She felt the pulse of his jugular vein on her tongue between her teeth. It would have been trivial to release and bite down again, breaking that tender lifeline. But she just held where she was, effectively choking him. After a minute he went limp and she released him, climbing out from underneath his body.
He still breathed. That, at least, was good. If the Band employed magic users that could cast a reflection spell on Jake, they should have a healer. But that was their problem.
She looked up. Jake was gone and Sigmundurr still stood in front of her, blocking her from the two archers that had appeared on the roof. But they hadn't fired. Yet.
She stood up, her clothes bloodied now, but it wasn't her blood. She walked over and picked up her staff.
"It's hot out here, Sig. Let's go sit under the porch in the shade."
They did so, effectively preventing the archers from seeing them.
"Gosh!" she called out to any that might be listening,"these guys sure could use a healer! If only one could come out and treat them!"
She heard some talking through the door.
"We've got your lizard!" she heard Jake call through the door. "Shall we start sending him out piece by piece?"
"Oh, come on Jake. I'm tired. Send your healer out here. One's dead but the other two could be saved if you hurry. I won't bother your healer."
The door opened and a man walked out. Kreet was surprised to see the symbol of Avandra on his robe. She'd expected much worse.
"Cleric of Avandra, go to your work," she said.
"I'd heard you were a Cleric of Pelor," he said, though he didn't stop his stride as he crossed first to the disembowelled man, who had blessedly stopped his screaming. "Is this what your god has taught you?"
"This has nothing to do with my god. This is a rescue of my husband," she said. "Besides, doesn't Avandra teach that luck favors the bold? This has more to do with your god than mine."
He looked up from his patient for a moment. "You know something of Avandra beyond the insignia. Go on. Fetch your husband. The door is still open."
Kreet and Sigmundurr looked. Jake stood in the doorway, but he stepped inside, leaving the door for them.
Sigmundurr shrugged. "Why not?"
Kreet groaned with muscle ache as she got up, and Sigmundurr helped her to her feet. She looked down at herself. She must have looked like she just stepped out of a horror story. She picked a piece of flesh from between her teeth and entered the building's darkness.
Jake gestured towards a room beyond. Inside was a large circular table surrounded by lavish chairs - the most lavish on the far side. A boss' chair if ever she'd seen one.
"Where's Kallid?" Kreet said before she sat down.
"After you meet with my boss," Jake said, eyes squinting.
"I don't think so," Kreet said, wiping some gore from her shoulder onto the pristine table.
"No, I think we need to see what you've done with him first. We need to know what kind of people we're dealing with. Let's see how you treated my husband, then we'll see if we can come to any sort of agreement - or if we have to kill you all."
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