Tension was scorching as the bearded man rose to his feet, with Rorak and Gunnar caught between them. Sauvage was already out of sight, but it would be a couple of minutes until Kid Killer showed up.

Gunnar rose out of his seat with arms outstretched between the bearded man and the dawn elf.

“We all came through the showers. Of any goblin you’ve ever encountered, the idea that my friend here is a Red Runner is insane.”

The dawn elf leveled his eyes at Gunnar. “You’re his friend.”

“If he’s got the Red Runs,” the bearded man said, “then, we all probably got it already. We’re playing with the same damn cards.”

“I think you just got something against goblins,” Gunnar said.

The dawn elf glared and puffed out his chest.

The dealer was waving over to someone across the room, looking very unsure how to handle the situation. A large bouncer crossed the room toward them.

“Look,” Rorak said, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Bullshit it’s not,” the bearded man said.

“What if I pass the tribute to you?” Rorak asked.

The bearded man smiled at this and turned on the dawn elf. “Brace yourself, boy.”

Without hesitation, he stepped past Gunnar and Rorak and decked the elf across the face, knocking him flat on the ground. The elf fumed, but shook his head and gathered himself back to his feet.

As the bearded man returned to his seat, he clasped Rorak’s hand in solidarity.

The elf’s eyes looked like they might burst out of his skull. “You son of a—”

“Is there a problem here?” the bouncer asked, sidling up next to the dealer.

“A couple of hot heads,” she muttered as she shuffled cards.

The bouncer must’ve been half troll. He stood at least seven feet tall, towering over the table.

“Er, no, no, problem,” the dawn elf said, shrinking a little.

“He was calling my friend a Red Runner,” Gunnar said angrily.

The bouncer rolled his eyes. “If I had a coin for every time a dawn elf spouted off some backwoods yabber jabber like that, I’d own this damn place.”

The dawn elf scowled, but seemed to genuinely be afraid of the man.

“Look,” said the dealer, “you’re either here to gamble or you’re not. Who’s playing?”

The gamblers all glanced around the table, but before any of them could speak, a new commotion rose up across the room. The bouncer hurried over toward the bar, where a second half troll was attempting to seize a squirming and shouting Kid Killer.

“Get your hands off me, you mangy beast!”

Gunnar had to hand it to him. The kid looked genuinely pissed. He arched his body, nearly slipping out of the half troll’s grasp.

“What’s going on?” asked the first bouncer as he reached his comrade.

“There he is!” Kid Killer’s eyes went white with rage as he pointed at Rorak.

All eyes in the room fell on the goblin once more.

The bouncer looked more than annoyed now. “Gods, you too?”

“He gave me the gods-damned Red Runs!”

Silence fell over the room, followed by frantic murmuring. The half troll dropped the kid in an instant, looking genuinely nervous. His comrade, who’d already heard his fill about it, shook his head.

“Enough!” He reached for Kid Killer.

But the kid leapt to the side. “Don’t believe me?” he shouted. Then, in answer to his own question, he dropped his pants.

Sauvage hadn’t held back. Kid Killer’s ass looked like one of those damn painted monkeys at the zoo. Candy apple red was visible from across the room with bulbous manifestations all over, like his ass had been stung by a dozen bees.

People started backing away from the kid, and from Rorak and Gunnar too. Even the bearded man.

Rorak shook his head and raised his hands. “I swear it wasn’t me!”

A shriek rang out from the washrooms.

“There’s bloody shit everywhere!” said one of the orcs who worked the showers. The woman threw up at the edge of the room.

Another shout from over by one of the other card tables. “There’s some over here too!”

A stench began to permeate the room—the last piece of the job. Something Sauvage had called Bottled Death.

People began to gag and rush for the doors.

The dealer at their table pointed at the bearded man. “Th-there’s something on your leg.”

The sight of Sauvage’s sick liquidy paste on the bearded man was the last straw. The room went into a mad frenzy to get out.

Kid Killer screamed and ran at Rorak, people diving to get out of his way. The kid tackled the goblin to the ground and the two rolled around on the pub floor.

The bearded man went running for the exit, only to get tripped up by one of the bouncers. People went racing around him, trying to avoid the chunky smears on the floor around him.

There were more shouts as more panicked sailors discovered other spots where Sauvage had left his mark.

It only took a couple minutes, before the place was cleared, and Rorak and Kid Killer were now rolling around in laughter.

“That was awesome!” Gunnar said, helping the two to their feet.

Kid Killer grinned. “Humiliating, but totally worth it.”

“Where’s the rat?” Rorak asked.

“Oh, there’s rats now, too, is there?”

The voice bellowed from the bar. They all turned to find a very hefty dwarf staggering toward them, bearing what looked like a sawed-off shotgun.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on here?” the dwarf roared.

“I really don’t think you do,” Kid Killer said, shaking his head.

“You don’t have no Red Runs. This is all a ploy.”

Kid Killer didn’t respond this time, and all three of them glanced at one another. For a second, Gunnar worried that this dwarf might actually know what they were doing, somehow.

“Aye!” the dwarf went on. “I knew it! A ploy to ruin my business. How much did he pay you?”

“Pay?” Gunnar asked, confused.

The dwarf pointed the shotgun at Gunnar’s face. “Johnny Knaves! He’s been sore about losing business ever since I opened up. Don’t think I don’t know it!”

“Look, man,” Gunnar said, “we don’t know any Knaves.”

“Save it for the Red Cloaks,” the dwarf growled. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“Yeah,” Kid Killer said. “We’re not waiting around for that.”

The dwarf pointed his shotgun at the kid. “You try to leave, and you’ll die. I promise you, this can make quick work of a little—”

With a shriek, the man staggered back. The shotgun boomed as it fired into the ceiling, decimating one of the rafter beams high above. The damage was far beyond what Gunnar would have expected from the weapon.

“Holy shit!” Kid Killer’s eyes lit with rage. “You actually could’ve killed me!”

The dwarf lay sprawled on his back, and Sauvage raced away, a chunk of the dwarf’s pants caught in his teeth from where he’d bitten him.

“No time! Let’s go!” tthe ratkin bellowed.

They sprinted across the room, darting between overturned tables.

Another gunshot sent splinters of wood flying, a few lodging in Gunnar’s back, dealing a small amount of damage.

Another shot decimated one of the oil lamps lighting the room. The glass fixture exploded, sending oil all over the floor.

With a flash of inspiration, Gunnar cast Dragon’s Breath. He couldn’t do much with the flame, but with all the oil, it was more than enough.

The floor behind them rushed with flames, shooting up one of the tables.

The dwarf roared, but no more shots fired.

They reached the entrance to the shower area. Gunnar glanced back to find several tables lapping with flames, as the dwarf owner desperately removed his shirt and began beating at the floor to try to put the fire out.

Gunnar almost felt guilty.

Almost.

The Beta Squad rushed down the hall of shower rooms. Behind them, Gunnar heard the commotion of arriving Red Cloaks, and the dwarf bellowing something unintelligible.

But it didn’t matter. They turned a corner, found a back door, and pulling their hoods up, they hurried into the darkness of the alley.

Gunnar hoped the fire would be the Red Cloaks’ first priority, but he wasn’t about to wait around to see. He led the way, hurrying down a couple of narrow side streets. He could hear lots of commotion from the waterfront, but back here, it was empty and quiet expect for their muted footfalls and a handful of drunks slumped in corners.

He’d memorized these streets and knew there were some tenement complexes a short distance back from the water.

Behind one of them, Gunnar found a ladder, and the four of them swiftly climbed up to a roof overlooking the waterfront.

No one followed them that any of them could tell, and once they reached the safety of the high rooftop, they caught their breath. Crouched in the darkness, they watched the street they’d just come from, but after a couple minutes, they relaxed.

Rorak shook his head and clapped Kid Killer on the shoulder. “That was bloody brilliant, mate.”

“Except the part where I nearly got my head blown off!” the kid turned to Sauvage. “Thanks for that.”

The ratkin merely shrugged.

“Seriously, though, that gun was insane,” Kid Killer said. “Wish I could have taken it.”

They all chuckled.

All except Sauvage, who gazed out over the city. “Smoke.”

Kid Killer pointed back the way they’d come, where a plume of smoke was forming above the pub. “Yeah, that asshole got what’s coming to him.”

“No,” Sauvage said.

Gunnar followed the ratkin’s gaze. It was difficult to see in the dim light, and too distant for Dark Sight to be much help, but he spotted a couple more faint plumes of smoke rising across the harbor.

Sauvage pointed up the waterfront on their own side, and sure enough, there were a couple more there too.

All four of them watched as more plumes rose up. Warning bells and frantic shouts began to resound from all across the harbor.

“Holy shit,” Rorak murmured.

“Sounds like the whole damn city got hit,” Kid Killer said.

But Sauvage shook his muzzle. “Just enough to make it feel like it.”

Gunnar gazed out toward the sea. The storm was right at the edge of the city. He just thought he could make out the outline of sails entering the strait toward the city.

“Sufficient chaos,” Gunnar said.