“Joe!” the distant voice called out. He sat up.

The crimson of life corrupted the blade of the knife. The warmth of the human fighting for his survival lingered on his hands.

Only he and the blade occupied this world now.

“Kid!”

His thumb slid down the blade, leaving a trail of treacherous purity. The scratches evoked a pleasant feeling.

An inner roar shuddered his entire Spirit. His Mind dived into the red fog with the hunger of a wounded wolf.

He felt his mouth stretching wide.

“Joe, are you… alright?”

He looked up to see the concerned face of someone very familiar.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

His voice didn’t stutter even once. Ralf ate him with his gaze for a while.

“Are you sure? You just sat there like a victim of lobotomy, smiling. Did you get attacked again, by chance?”

Joseph picked himself up from the ground and wiped the blood off the knife with his own pants.

“Yeah, I’m positive. I just… had an epiphany.”

Ralf lowered his sight onto the knife that Joe still held in his hand.

“I reckon I know exactly which. Keep it in check, Joe. The cold mind and the heart of flame together would do a lot of good. Having only one will only bring you ruin.”

“I feel like I am already ruined, Ralf. No going back from this one.”

Ralf furrowed his brows and said nothing.

They searched the bodies and found nothing useful, aside from the weapons of the same model that the duo had already armed themselves with. No papers or emblems, no pendants or identification signs were present on the husks of their foes.

“These two either didn’t expect to come back at all. Or ‘Firelight’ leaders don’t want their mercenaries’ names and allegiances to be discovered. And I don’t even know what is worse. Both conclusions only bring more trouble for us all.”

“They wear nondescript black clothes as well. Full anonymity. What do we even know about them, anyway?”

Ralf scratched his head.

“They belong to a legal mercenary company, ‘Firelight’, their leader is a woman who goes by the name ‘Evalyn Hansen’, they all dress roughly the same, they are weird. Or at least the familiar five were. Two bodies we are looking at don’t have anything that gives us any clues as to who they are or who they were.”

Joseph nodded, building a board in his head and hanging notes on it.

“Is it a tradition to carry medals and orders on yourself in the Threshold? I remember Henry having one.”

“Hah,” Ralf grimaced. “No, not really. Henry was proud of being a soldier of one of Sumeilien’s best squads, but his skills took some beating during our pirating days. Still, I think I got what you are trying to say. I don’t know if they had any medals or distinguishing signs before, and it doesn’t help us now.”

Joseph had no luck with other ideas. He lingered for a while, looking at the dead corpse of the mercenary that Ralf dealt with. Dealt with in the very refined manner, leaving a small, accurate hole in the mercenary’s forehead.

At this point, they simply tossed the bodies inside of the leather square, introduced Karl to his immediate neighbours, and hurried up the stairs.

The fresh evening breeze rammed against Joseph’s face, delivering a much-needed drug of levity for the gruesome theatre play he just witnessed. Ralf inhaled the air sharply and smiled.

Too bad they were the only ones who appreciated the beauty of the quiet life at this moment. Several shots in rapid succession rocketed through the entire settlement from the western side. Ralf raised his head up to look at the sky.

“It’s no fireworks, that’s for damn sure. Let’s investigate this noise, just in case.”

Joseph had no objections.

*****

“I’ll rip your tongue off, you mud-drinker!”

“Say what, midget?! Your hole stinks like your mother after the brothel! I didn’t even get any pleasure from it!”

“You! Are! Dead!! Stop holding me, you little shits!!”

Two rivers of people clashed against each other, pouring into one stormy ocean. Joseph stood in the alleyways near the end of the main road, watching the bloodbath unfold. Luckily enough, sailors chose the good ol’ messy brawl as the proper way to resolve the dispute instead of cold iron and powder.

Ralf’s face flickered between amusement and worry. The duo arrived to investigate the shooting and discovered two groups of people in a very heated argument. The shouts reached so far, Joseph caught faint echoes two steps away from the house they left minutes ago. When they stumbled upon the source of the disturbance, the conflict approached like an incoming avalanche, far away from the lingering blizzard it began as.

Judging by the exchange of words before the fight broke out, two groups belonged to two different pirate crews. And both names sounded familiar to Joe - ‘Bloody Bane’ and ‘Rolling Suns’.

Their captains were getting along just fine. Where did this spark come from, capable of igniting so many people on fire?

Their duo never found the reason for shooting either. Neither side had guns out by the time Joseph and Ralf ran up to the spot, only cracking of knuckles covered the scene. In the absence of the background music Joe found the sound of incoming violence to be a great substitute, but where are the shooters then?

“What do we do?”

Ralf cracked his own neck.

“Trying to fit in with the theme?” Joseph chuckled.

“For sure! Kid, I have no bloody idea what to do here. I do want to dive in…”

The armsmaster resembled a punished dog at this very moment. But someone had to become the voice of reason and push the investigation forward.

“We still have towers to check and mercenaries to interrogate.”

Ralf pouted.

“Yes, mother…”

“What in the bloody void is going on here?!”

The voice slammed right into the crowd, splitting the ocean apart. The tall man with the magnificent black beard cut his way (non-violently) through all the bloodied punching bags and stopped in-between both groups.

“Enough is enough! No hostility upon Ghastly Wail, no shooting without a serious reason! What is wrong with you all?!”

“You tell ‘em, George. Some birds chirped to me that your men are going around and picking fights with people for some dumb reasons. What ‘bout it, mate?”

Another cold voice invaded the scene. The orange fur appeared on the right side near Joseph and Ralf, literally two steps away from their position. The wind fluttered forward, animating the brown jacket this person wore and raising dust clouds all around him.

George Firebreacher spread his arms and smiled, strolling closer to the rhevalian.

“Rayk, friend, I just arrived here! I heard that some unrefined gentlemen, hailing from the ‘Rolling Suns’, threatened to tear the balls of my people off! I ran over here as quickly as I could. I have no idea what is going on. Oi, hi there, ‘Morning Star’!”

The captain of the ‘Rolling Suns’ crossed his arms on his chest and spoke at the crowd.

“Bloody idiots. Is there any brain with enough sense left behind to explain what got you all so feisty?”

“They threatened to hang us by the balls!”

“They promise they would set our ship aflame!

“Fucking maggots dared to call my mother a bitch!”

The war raged on, the voices of both crews bringing out their heaviest artillery in the form of the hammiest fuglemen. Trying to figure out who and what, where and why would make even the most hard-boiled project managers twist their own grey mass into sweaters, since it would be of no use to them otherwise.

All four of them exchanged glances.

“What in the void do we even do?!” Rayk whispered.

Joseph rubbed his chin, when the idea ringed the bell in his head.

“Hey, people!” He shouted as loudly as he could manage. Being under the crowd’s pressure corroded his confidence, but he had to finish the thought. “Can you point out among your own crews who, exactly, began to throw insults in the first place?”

“Joe!”

Ralf shushed him. Not without the good reason, as the whispers that spread among the pirates afterwards reeked of gloom.

“He has a point,” George suddenly stepped forward. “Pointing fingers at each other will do us no good, as all you are blinded by the rage directed at the other side. But then, you should be aware of the crewmates around you and what they did. We don’t want to grow a worm into a Menace, do we?”

The heat in the atmosphere dissipated, but more curious sailors arrived at the dispute from the settlement, likely drawn in by the same noise that Joe and Ralf heard. The crowd in the middle of the stage released their boiling steam, yet the issue stood tall unresolved - what was the reason for the conflict?

George flattened the confused sailors with a well-deserved remark.

“You raise your arms in the defence of nothing? You shout and rage, yet you got so lost in your bravery and vigour that breaking someone’s teeth became your only entertainment? I don’t mind a good brawl. I do mind a brawl without a justifiable verdict. Do you even know the faces of people who stand right beside you?”

The crowd began to boil again.

“Shut up, George! You weren’t there!”

“...Who said that?” Rayk glanced over at his crew.

The ‘Rolling Suns’ team stiffened and fell silent. Ralf sighed.

“This is getting nowhere. We look like clowns, playing for the ungrateful public right now. Let it go, or order them to walk back to the stations, lest you want for this circus to take up the entire night.”

“I want to solve this puzzle,” George scanned the crowd with a predatory gaze. “Someone instigated the conflict in the first place. I need to know why it happened.”

Rayk turned at the black-bearded captain. The corners of his mouth slid down.

“You sure? What reasons do you have to think that?”

“Think about it, you empty-head,” Firebreacher shook his head. “In the last hour or two, some unknown individuals were traversing Ghastly Wail and spreading the enmity between our crews. Yet, now that the conditions had reached the boiling point, we have not a single clue about who these people were, and neither crew can name them.”

“They might just be covering for each other, y’know.”

George’s smile reminded Joe of a startled snake.

“Would you trust your own crew to not out you? Just to keep their own skin clean in a situation like that? We got a load of luck with the sudden absence of Karl’s dogs. Otherwise, this would have been all over way sooner.”

Rayk growled under his breath, but didn’t say a word to refute.

The voices fell into the stillness of the evening, just like the wind had lost all of its passion and settled into a faint breeze. The dust clouds, sleepless and eager, crawled along the legs of the people present. Joseph could hear the cowboy music playing in the distance. Or at least imagine that it did.

George coughed, and the time began to move again at the proper pace.

“Doesn’t matter, I guess. How about we all go and solve this over the game of ‘Battalions and Daemons’? I have a deck with me right here!”

The people in the crowd began to mumble between each other. Some of them laughed, and soon, the sailors on both sides, covered in each other’s blood, were shaking hands and throwing light jabs at the opponents’ misfortune. The wind picked up the dust again, bringing the warm air from the lake along for the ride.

The captain of the ‘Bloody Bane’ took off his tricorne and grinned.

“Now that the matter is resolved, let’s get something for ourselves too. I reckon we can still-”

The sharp sound cut into Joseph’s ears. Something rammed into his back, and the world drowned within the darkness.

*****

…Status:…???(^%&#[&%@

...Joseph...