Path of Their Own Ch. 01

The latter barely won out as Manning Sloss came walking into the room, followed by an elderly man that wasn't much taller than him. Despite his visibly advanced age, this second gentleman's body still moved with strength and precision. The outlines of credible muscles were visible beneath his white shirt and black trousers with his every footstep coming down with an intimidating thud meant to unnerve everyone around him.

One of his large hands swept his black hair to one side to partially cover its streaks of grey and he straightened up his posture. His clean shaven face, though wrinkled by time, glowered with furious, blue eyes above the deep purple bags of his sockets, and the scowl he brought to bear could stop a bull in its tracks.

Rose said it before Galen could think it, "Baron Sloss, Sir."

The Baron looked to the barmaid and gave her a polite bow of the head but quickly diverted his attention to the armed men in his town's inn. Standing at his father's back, Manning glanced in Galen's direction and the Private feigned the best questioning look he could manage. The young Sloss just frowned and looked back to the men in the bar.

"What's this about?" the leader of the surrounded group asked.

The Baron raised a hand to silence the man and looked to the Lycan beside him, who pulled the orange-feathered, wooden trinket from his pocket and took a whiff. With the scent fresh in his mind, he lifted his nose and took another deep inhale of the smells in the room. He gave his nod while exhaling a breath of satisfaction.

"The scent matches. And your gem is..."

The Lycan started sniffing about, and Galen felt his heart thundering in his chest as that keen nose came close to him. Flak set his weapon to automatic. They both held their breath, but then the Lycan's head snapped toward the Neko in the bandit group and he closed in. With just one more whiff, he grabbed the jacket that had the sapphire and began rifling through the pockets.

"That's my coat, you mutt!" the cat-man hissed, though he went rather quiet when the "mutt" pulled out that fist-sized jewel.

The bandits stared in disbelief, though the Baron just shook his head and pointed to their leader with the neck tattoo. "Arrest him, kill the rest."

A sigh of relief escaped Galen as the Baron's men charged the bandits. The group of marauders quickly backed themselves up to the wall behind them and defensively raised their swords. The green giant of theirs heaved up a morning star that was hanging off his waist as the equally large Lycan stepped forth to engage him. For a moment, it seemed like it was to be a quick fight until those first blades clashed.

The first few of the Baron's men stepped in to swing their swords at the bandits only for lightning to arc between any weapons crossing. Several of the guards screamed as electric bolts zapped from their swords into their armor to force their bodies to shake and convulse. A few were electrocuted outright, but others managed to break contact by letting their legs out and falling to the floor.

Gasping and panting with trails of smoke rising from links in their chain mail, they coughed and tried to crawl away from the outlaws. Scoffing at what had been a brave group just a moment before, the bandits encircled the guards and lined their blades up with the exposed bases of their helmets. With single, precise strikes, the Baron's men were granted a swift end, save for the warrior who nearly poured out of his steel suit when the morning star crushed his torso.

In just a few short seconds after the fight began, seven of the Baron's men were dead.

Both Sloss Senior and Junior stared in horror at the fate that had befallen their militia. Even their Lycan, in all his brawny and talented glory, had fallen victim to the enchanted weapons as though he hadn't fought a day in his life. Between the shock on their faces, and both Galen and Flak's, the bandit leader just laughed and took a few steps forward, his sword sending sparks from its tip into a body by his feet.

"I'm sorry, Baron, what was that to accomplish?"

Both men drawing up fierce scowls and throwing their chairs back as they both stood, Galen raised his Colt and Flak shouldered his AK. Staring down that man's smug, laughable grin, they growled in unison: "This."

Rose ducked behind her counter and covered her ears as thunder erupted in the middle of her bar. Shell casings flew as a combination of 7.62mm and .45 ACP rounds tore into the bandits. Chainmail was perforated with ease, breastplates were punctured like paper silhouettes. No matter their race, the bandits didn't stand a chance as the two men delivered singular, precise shots to their targets one at a time. Even the green man was swiftly cut down as a trio of thirty-caliber, and duet of forty-five caliber rounds pierced his center of mass right where his heart was.

When the gunfire stopped, and the last piece of hot brass went skittering across the floor, the only one left standing was the bandit leader. His smirk was gone as terror of the Nether he was about to meet flooded through him. Mouth gaping, he shook violently in his armor while staring at Flak and the thin trail of smoke rising from the barrel of his weapon.

Boasting a victorious sneer, the Marine released a slow breath and drew his head into his sights.

"Motherfucker, I'm the one you don't want a problem with."

One last shot rang out, and the marauder's head snapped back with his whole body collapsing to the floor in a heap.

The bloodbath finally over, Galen flicked on the safety for his handgun and made it vanish into storage. Flak flicked his rifle's safety on and rested the buttstock against his side, the muzzle pointed to the ceiling as he fished a cigarette from his breast pocket. Before he could ask, Galen was pulling out his zippo to light his smoke.

Picking his chair up off the floor to take a seat, the Marine sucked back that sweet tobacco and let the Private face the music that was dealing with the Baron. As far as he was concerned, his part was done. The political side of it was all Galen's ballgame.

"Thank you for stopping those men," Sloss Senior said, somewhat shaken as he bowed to the young paratrooper. "I know not of the weapons that you and your friend wielded to do so, but I am grateful, Mister..."

"Galen, sir," he introduced. "Galen Martin."

"A pleasure, Mister Martin. I owe you and your friend a blood debt. Should there be anything in my power to reward, you need only ask."

"I appreciate your gesture, sir, but the rest of this man's gang is upstairs," the Private said, motioning his head toward the second floor. "What about them?"

Unleashing a sudden, loud slew of swear words, Flak stood up and crushed his unfinished cigarette on the table. Lifting his AK and turning to the stairs, he muttered, "Thanks for reminding me."

"Flak?" Galen called.

"You heard what the fucker said!" the Marine snapped as he went to the second floor. "Burn towns to the fucking ground, have they? Well, I'll fucking show 'em."

He went to the first room and opened the door. With a loud, "FUCK," he went to the next room and threw the door open. Cussing again he went to the third and final room the bandits had rented and went inside. Flicking off the safety of his rifle, he lifted it and fired a single shot into the room before he ran for the stairs.

"They climbed out their windows!" he yelled while vaulting over the banister. Landing half-way down the steps, the Marine took off running for the exit. Reaching into his tunic to hide his summoning of his pistol, Galen raced him to the front door and opened it for the incoming Flak to charge on through before going out himself.

Half of them too drunk to walk, the final eight bandits were fighting with the hitches that secured their horses when the soldiers came out. Three managed to mount up and take off, but the other five instead chose to draw their swords before three of them fell over into the dirt. Galen just shook his head and took aim.

His pistol barked twice and the two men who were standing dropped. He tried to fire at one of the men on the ground but found the slide of the pistol was locked back on empty. Dropping the spent magazine, he made it vanish and then had a fully loaded one appear in his grasp. By the time he got it loaded and dropped the slide, Flak walked up to fire a short, automatic burst into the three drunks in the dirt. That only left the riders.

With just enough moonlight to see without his darkvision, the Private spotted them galloping off on their horses going northbound up the street. Thankful for the "eyes of the avian" that Necela had gifted him, he pointed to their silhouettes and indicated them to the Marine beside him. The Staff-Sergeant just shook his head.

"I don't see 'em," he said, squinting into the dark.

"Then pass that here!" Galen snapped, taking the AK from Flak and bringing it to his shoulder to aim. Trying to adjust his eyes to the different style of sight proved difficult at first but he was quickly able to line them up to the best of his ability. The front sight post obscured his target at this distance, but it was what he had at the moment.

"Sights are set to two hundred, adjust accordingly," Flak muttered.

Watching the riders reach the stated setting of the sight, Galen took a knee and steadied his breathing. He gave the trigger a steady squeeze, feeling for the sear to trip when --BANG.

A horse whinnied and bucked its rider from his saddle as a bullet struck its backside. Rolling his shoulders and adjusting his aim a little higher, he lined up the next rider and fired. This time he was on target as the bandit's shoulder exploded and he dropped off his horse. Aiming up a little more, he lined up his next shot and squeezed. That last man was thrown forward in his saddle, slumping over the horse's neck before he ultimately fell off.

And that's it, he thought, breathing out as he lowered the rifle and stood up. I killed them.

"Got 'em all, but one's still alive," he said in a neutral voice as he passed the rifle back to Flak. "Bit more than two hundred meters out, he got bucked off when I aimed too low with that stupid-big front sight."

Not paying attention to the astonished look on Flak's face, Galen wasn't prepared for the slap he got on the back.

"You still fucking hit 'em, Private! That's some marksman shit right there!"

Galen managed to give a grin as he rubbed his left shoulder blade but it quickly faded. More death, more killing, just the things he wanted to avoid when he set out tonight. Apparently Flak didn't share the sentiment as he slung his rifle and marched off into the night with his KA-BAR out to finish off that last survivor. All he needed was permission to hunt, and the Baron had given that.

The Private wasn't particularly concerned about the bandits, for he knew now what kind of men they were. But the Baron's men were different. They were just local militia tasked with enforcing the law in their town. The kind of men he hoped to not end up dead this eve.

Their numbers came up, but at least their killers are dead, he thought before trying to shift his thoughts toward how he was going to get the Baron to give up his claim on Naipee. Given how this night has gone so far, the soldier didn't expect the bloodshed to stop now. But then again, would it ever? He has been ending lives since he landed here. It was what he was trained for. It was in his blood.

Opening the front door to the inn, he found the Baron's remaining three men dragging the bodies out of the building to get them into the street before their blood stained the wooden floor. Sitting at her bar with a drink in hand, Rose leaned over her counter with her face in her other. Both Sloss Senior and his son stood at the counter beside her as they surveyed the handful of bullet holes in the wall. The old man then sighed and whispered lowly to his son while rubbing his thumb over his recovered sapphire.

Looking at the damage himself, the Private saw that most of Flak's bullets had enough energy to keep going after puncturing the armored bandits and had continued right on through the wooden walls of the building to take small chunks out of the planks. If they managed to continue on and penetrate the clay wall of the building next door, though, Galen would be surprised.

Good thing I didn't use my M14, he thought, imagining where the faster bullet coming out of his rifle could've ended up.

"I'll pay for the damages here, Miss Anstead," the Baron declared, watching two of his men heave in unison to get one of the larger corpses out the door. "And the cleanup. After all, it was my coming in here that sparked this event. The only question I have is if you spied that Elven servant of mine coming in here. When these thieves broke into my home, they took the girl with them."

"I haven't seen her, you can check their rooms if you wish," the barmaid said, running a hand through her dark hair and tipping back her drink. "Those would be the rooms Flak opened on the second floor."

"And what about the other rooms?" Manning asked.

"Last room on the second floor is Flak's, the big room up top beside mine is Galen's."

"You said Naipee is missing?" the Private asked, trying to act surprised.

"I did," the Baron replied with a nod. "Stolen by these bandits along with my father's jewel."

Galen thought for a moment, his mind still trying to figure out a way to secure the girl's freedom. Considering the price Pretayus had asked of Fretheim's men, he doubted he could buy her, and unless he wanted the whole of the town rising up against him, he couldn't just take her at gunpoint. He didn't want enemies and the Willhers still wanted their help to learn about metal working.

Then again...

The Baron did say he owed both me and Flak. Anything within his power.

"Sir, if I may request my... payment on your debt, I think I know what I want."

Manning's gaze narrowed upon Galen, his brow arching down into a light scowl as his father's shoulders dropped. The old man just closed his eyes and sighed as his hand tightened up around his sapphire. It appeared he knew what the soldier was going to ask for, just as it was clear that he didn't want to hear it.

Intense, piercing blue eyes shifted to the Private as he wandered over to where the bandit leader lay. After fidgeting with some leather straps, Galen managed to remove the sheath of the enchanted blade from the man's body before grabbing the weapon itself. Putting the weapon into its protective covering, he stood up and looked to the Baron expectantly.

In the next moment, Flak walked into the room with his weapon slung over one arm and a pack full of looted goods under the other. He had even claimed another one of those lightning swords, and seeing that, the old man finally conceded.

"Should you find her, I swear on my family name that all her ties to this town are relinquished unto you. She is yours, Master Martin."

Beside his father, Manning crossed his arms with a twitching look in his eye. His lips were tense and his teeth were clenched with such fury they looked as though they might break. But even so, the young man bowed his head to Galen in acceptance.

"When you find her, treat her well, Galen."

"Find who?" Flak questioned, noticing the tense atmosphere around the father and son.

"That Elf I told you about," the Private said, looking to the Staff-Sergeant. "She belongs to me now."

"You mean the one that was climbing up to your room?"

"What?" the Baron questioned with a hostile glare, only for Flak to shrug him off as he fibbed on the spot.

"The fucker I shot on the second floor was climbing out the window after an Elven girl. She went to the third floor to get away from them and rather than go after her, they tried to escape. They're all dead now, but she should still be okay up there."

Mouth pursed as he bit his lower lip, the Baron seethed through his nose. "It seems fortune favors you, young man. I will repeat my son's sentiments and tell you to treat her well. A good night to you, Master Martin, Mister Flak."

With his son in tow, Sloss only just started for the exit when Galen asked, "I hope this doesn't impact the deal we made for that map, Manning."

Stopping for a moment, the junior Sloss didn't even turn to face the soldier when he said, "I keep personal and business matters separate. That deal hasn't changed. I only ask you refrain from bringing her with you. Both tomorrow, and any time we may ever meet again."

With that, the two men walked out. Their men dragged the last body out of the bar and shut the door behind them. Galen didn't even wait for them to be out of earshot before he turned on his heel and headed straight for the stairs, leaping up them three steps at a time to get back to his room. With everyone save for Flak now vacated from her bar, Rose set her empty mug down stood up and went into the kitchen, returning moments later with a mop and a bucket of water.

"Sorry about the mess we made," the Marine said as she set the bucket down and started mopping up the red pool and drag marks across her floor. "I realize we broke your rule about no fights in the bar."

"It couldn't be helped," she sighed, trying to focus on anything other than the crimson stains. "Trouble was in the air tonight the moment these men came in. I'm just glad you stopped them before they hurt anyone else."

"Yeah, they won't be hurting anyone ever again, that's for sure," he said, setting his rifle down on the bar along with the goods he looted before rolling up his sleeves. "Here, let me give you a hand with this. You look like Hell."

"You don't have to, I can handle it," she responded, but he shook his head and took hold of the mop in her hands.

"It wasn't an offer, Rose." He gently pulled it away. "Get another bucket ready, and then sit down and rest. I'll handle this."

With how serious he looked, she gave him an appreciative smile and headed back to her kitchen. "You're a good man, Mister Flak."

Eying the sway of her hips as she walked away, he smirked and dunked the mop into its bucket.

"As much as I can be, sweetheart. As much as I can be."

...

A broad smile stuck to his face, Galen jiggled his key into his door's lock and gave it a twist. The latch opened, and he was almost falling over himself to get through. Inside his room he found Celia hugging onto Naipee one of the beds, his love lifting her head to offer him a moderate but welcoming smile. Across from the Elves on the other bed was a scowling Petra slowly flexing her hands with her claws fully extended with her loaded CAR-15 lying across her lap. As he wondered where Felyn was, he heard a sword sliding back into its sheathe behind him.

The door then slammed shut and the Drow that had been waiting behind it grabbed him by the ear. He tried to give a protest but she dragged him over to the Tree Elves and forced him to his knees. Naipee nervously looked up at her pleading but the Empath simply narrowed her crimson gaze.

"Show him," she ordered, making their new rescue tremble.

"It is okay," Celia whispered as she tightened her hug on her clan sister.

Galen worriedly glanced between the three. "Show me what?"

"The reason Naipee hasn't said a word," Petra muttered, hunching over and using one hand to rest her chin on while the other tapped its claws on the magazine of her weapon.

The soldier's focus shifted to the Elf in question, and as her body was shaking in her sister's arms, she opened her mouth. Revealing the pink stub that remained of her tongue.

Several things happened to him in that moment. Beyond his heart stopping and his breath catching in his throat, his stomach began to sink into a molten pit rapidly forming in his gut. When he managed to start breathing again it was in short, wispy breaths that struggled past his grinding teeth.