| Sample of 'THE GRAY MAN' |
by H. Wolfgang Porter
"THUNK, THUNK, THUNK!" was the sound hammering in
my ears as arrows sank into the door I just slammed shut.
Vacation was long over and I was back doing what I did best.
As usual, a reasonably planned assignment managed to fall
straight into the slop jar.
The hammering I now heard came from the angry
smugglers trying to break down the door. The other equally
annoying sound in my ear was the mewling and begging
coming from my latest 'assignment'.
The Council had an informant dug in deep with a ring of
Firewine Smugglers. Somehow, his association with the
Council reached the ears of the ring-leaders and they naturally
wanted him dead. Of course, the Council wanted him very
much alive (that was until they got what wanted.) Of which
was why I found myself trapped in a storeroom instead of an
avenue leading outside.
Personally, I thought Firewine should be legal. It was great
if you could handle it. I'd seen half-oguhr drop to tavern
floors after three or four shots! On the other hand, nobody
seemed to know what was in it or where the hell it came from.
In any tavern or pub that could get it, one shot would cost
a minimum of five silver squares! A bottle could go as high as
twenty gold squares! Any product that could command such
prices and sell with absolute certainty the Council wanted a
slice. This ring of smugglers hadn't paid the Council shit and
had no intention of doing so.
The only mercantile aspect I was worried about happened
to be the five-thousand gold squares the Council was paying
me to bring this knucklehead in alive. The storage room door
wasn't going to hold much longer and the swarm of smugglers
was going to come in the way we had to get out. Coming up
with a plan with all that racket going on was easy as trying to
use only my brain to light a fire. Oddly enough, I then had my
plan.
"Shut your yap maggot!" I indelicately told my assignment
as I dragged the sackcloth bag containing him across the floor.
"You keep quiet and don't even twitch! Do as I say and you'll
get out of here in one piece." Once I got him jammed in a
corner behind some crates, I threw my Caterpillar Thread
Cloak over him. As I expected, it looked like nothing was
behind the crates.
I stood aside the door and watched as the smugglers
smashed their way in. It was going to be too close from my
Cold-Forged Iron short sword. With that in mind, I put on a
pair of steel-banded gauntlets.
As shattered wood flew into the storeroom, I swung a crate
round the door frame and into the first two humans through
the door. The crate exploded into fragments of wood and
shattered pottery. As I hoped, the crate was full of Firewine
which burst into flame upon contact with air. The hallway
just beyond the storeroom became an inferno and I leaped
into the fray.
I must have been a sight bursting through the flames
because the smugglers started screaming. I'm willing to bet
the sight of my fists caving in faces didn't help their
confidence either. True to form, several of the smugglers
didn't have the decency to run off and decided to put up a
fight.
I dropped to one knee to avoid a sword swing and punched
the human just above the loins. From the sound and sudden
give, my gauntleted fist had broken the front of his pelvis.
The stricken man's sword flew from his hand and into the
face of the man next to him. I stood up pushing the screaming
man from his feet and into the remaining men toppling them
over.
I suddenly realized why they were so frightened of me. I
was on fire. Though I was covered from head to toe, I could
feel the heat building. I saw my gauntleted fists were also
aflame as I raised them for the next wave. It hadn't come.
The smugglers were frozen in the flaming hallway aghast.
In a moment I was going to have to roll on the ground.
Instead, I just started laughing. Not the kind one hears after a
grand jest, but the twisted kind someone gives just before
they do something horrible. "You're all going to die," I said
calmly over the roar of flames.
"GODS SAVE ME! IT'S THE GRAY MAN!" screeched
the man closest to me. While he and a few others were
scrambling to get away, I decided to help the rest make up
their minds. I spun around, grabbed all six of my throwing
discs and flung them at the stone walls. Sparks burst about as
the discs ricocheted into the group. My throws were spoilt by
the gauntlets, but two men fell and the rest tore each other
apart trying to escape. Typically, more sparks meant more
cases of Firewine were set ablaze.
That was enough for me. I was on fire and anyone still
standing in the warehouse would suddenly find themselves in
the Elysian Fields. I bolted back to the storeroom, dove to the
ground and rolled to where the snitch lay hidden. As I threw
the cloak over both of us, there was an uurth-shattering
sound and the world dissappeared.
"THUNK, THUNK, THUNK!" was the sound hammering in
my ears as arrows sank into the door I just slammed shut.
Vacation was long over and I was back doing what I did best.
As usual, a reasonably planned assignment managed to fall
straight into the slop jar.
The hammering I now heard came from the angry
smugglers trying to break down the door. The other equally
annoying sound in my ear was the mewling and begging
coming from my latest 'assignment'.
The Council had an informant dug in deep with a ring of
Firewine Smugglers. Somehow, his association with the
Council reached the ears of the ring-leaders and they naturally
wanted him dead. Of course, the Council wanted him very
much alive (that was until they got what wanted.) Of which
was why I found myself trapped in a storeroom instead of an
avenue leading outside.
Personally, I thought Firewine should be legal. It was great
if you could handle it. I'd seen half-oguhr drop to tavern
floors after three or four shots! On the other hand, nobody
seemed to know what was in it or where the hell it came from.
In any tavern or pub that could get it, one shot would cost
a minimum of five silver squares! A bottle could go as high as
twenty gold squares! Any product that could command such
prices and sell with absolute certainty the Council wanted a
slice. This ring of smugglers hadn't paid the Council shit and
had no intention of doing so.
The only mercantile aspect I was worried about happened
to be the five-thousand gold squares the Council was paying
me to bring this knucklehead in alive. The storage room door
wasn't going to hold much longer and the swarm of smugglers
was going to come in the way we had to get out. Coming up
with a plan with all that racket going on was easy as trying to
use only my brain to light a fire. Oddly enough, I then had my
plan.
"Shut your yap maggot!" I indelicately told my assignment
as I dragged the sackcloth bag containing him across the floor.
"You keep quiet and don't even twitch! Do as I say and you'll
get out of here in one piece." Once I got him jammed in a
corner behind some crates, I threw my Caterpillar Thread
Cloak over him. As I expected, it looked like nothing was
behind the crates.
I stood aside the door and watched as the smugglers
smashed their way in. It was going to be too close from my
Cold-Forged Iron short sword. With that in mind, I put on a
pair of steel-banded gauntlets.
As shattered wood flew into the storeroom, I swung a crate
round the door frame and into the first two humans through
the door. The crate exploded into fragments of wood and
shattered pottery. As I hoped, the crate was full of Firewine
which burst into flame upon contact with air. The hallway
just beyond the storeroom became an inferno and I leaped
into the fray.
I must have been a sight bursting through the flames
because the smugglers started screaming. I'm willing to bet
the sight of my fists caving in faces didn't help their
confidence either. True to form, several of the smugglers
didn't have the decency to run off and decided to put up a
fight.
I dropped to one knee to avoid a sword swing and punched
the human just above the loins. From the sound and sudden
give, my gauntleted fist had broken the front of his pelvis.
The stricken man's sword flew from his hand and into the
face of the man next to him. I stood up pushing the screaming
man from his feet and into the remaining men toppling them
over.
I suddenly realized why they were so frightened of me. I
was on fire. Though I was covered from head to toe, I could
feel the heat building. I saw my gauntleted fists were also
aflame as I raised them for the next wave. It hadn't come.
The smugglers were frozen in the flaming hallway aghast.
In a moment I was going to have to roll on the ground.
Instead, I just started laughing. Not the kind one hears after a
grand jest, but the twisted kind someone gives just before
they do something horrible. "You're all going to die," I said
calmly over the roar of flames.
"GODS SAVE ME! IT'S THE GRAY MAN!" screeched
the man closest to me. While he and a few others were
scrambling to get away, I decided to help the rest make up
their minds. I spun around, grabbed all six of my throwing
discs and flung them at the stone walls. Sparks burst about as
the discs ricocheted into the group. My throws were spoilt by
the gauntlets, but two men fell and the rest tore each other
apart trying to escape. Typically, more sparks meant more
cases of Firewine were set ablaze.
That was enough for me. I was on fire and anyone still
standing in the warehouse would suddenly find themselves in
the Elysian Fields. I bolted back to the storeroom, dove to the
ground and rolled to where the snitch lay hidden. As I threw
the cloak over both of us, there was an uurth-shattering
sound and the world dissappeared.
| © 2006 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved |