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The effects of the doctor’s pills seemed to diminish as Thurk made his way through the city, toward the warehouse. The orc had no idea whether the police had arrived yet, or what manner of trap would have been laid for them.
It was impossible to know just how much of the police force Bruno had under his thumb. It was possible that Blanca was headed into a snakes den completely alone, surrounded by gang-owned killers.
Inch by inch.
Thurk walked for miles before realizing that he was lost. The surrounding buildings were too tall, and he could not locate the position of the sun in the sky. Turning about, the orc tried futilely to remember where he was. He could find his way anywhere out in the western desert. But here, in this place, his skills were nearly useless.
“Forty-third and East Tower. Was that it?” Thurk asked himself, staring at the nearest street sign.
“You lost, lawman?” a familiar voice arose from behind Thurk.
The ranger turned quickly. There in the street behind him stood Marina; the leader of the urchins.
“Marina, are you following me?”
“Only for the last three blocks.”
Thurk sighed. He truly was out of his element. “I need to find the warehouses.”
“Too late, my friend.”
“What do you mean?” Thurk asked.
“What I hear is your girlfriend got double-crossed by the other coppers, ya know?”
“Dammit!” Thurk kicked at the wall. “Who did you hear this from?”
“Timmy told Sam, Sam told Jill, you know how it goes,” Marina said.
“Is Blanca alive?” Thurk tightened his grip on the stock of his shotgun.
“Yup, Rat King took her back to the casino. Tried to get Squirrel too, but you know that wily bastard.”
“Where is he?”
“Who? Squirrel?” Marina shrugged. “Disappeared. It’s what he does best.”
“If the police are compromised, and the Commissioner is imprisoned, then I’ll have to stop Bruno myself,” Thurk said, defiantly.
“Well...” Marina started. “No, nevermind.”
“What is it?” Thurk asked.
“Well, there is someone else you could ask for help.”
Thurk looked up at the girl, his eyes narrowing. Quickly, he realized who it was that she meant.
“Take me to them.”
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“THIS IS IT,” MARINA said. “Nice knowing ya, lawman.”
“Thank you, Marina. Again,” Thurk said, digging in his pocket for what was left of his money. “Here.”
“No,” Marina said firmly. “The Rat King has to go down.”
Thurk insisted, grabbing the girl’s hand and placing the coins into it directly. “Take it.”
The young woman looked into Thurk’s eyes. She took the coins, nodding slightly.
“Be seeing you, lawman.”
Then, Marina was gone. She left Thurk very close to the spot he had been attacked on his first day in New Stad. On the edge of Tusker territory.
Down the street, an orc dressed in rags lounged against the wall of a building. He lay wrapped in a large woven blanket; it was filthy. To most who passed by, he would appear as no more than a homeless wretch. Thurk’s keen eyes, though, spotted a strange shape sharing the space underneath his blanket: a gun.
Thurk sauntered up to the man who scrambled up into a sitting position as he approached. Before he could grab his gun, Thurk leveled his own at his face.
The orc raised both hands. “Hey! I don’t want no trouble!”
Thurk gestured with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t reach for that weapon and we won’t have any.”
The gangster in disguise nodded and swallowed hard.
“Okay, now that we understand each other,” Thurk continued. “Take me to Lazg Rankar.”
“I don’t know who you’re talkin’ about.”
Thurk moved his thumb, pulling the dual hammers of his shotgun into position.
“Okay, now! Don’t get jumpy!” the Tusker pleaded. “I’ll take you to Lazg.”
“Good, now stand up. Slowly.” Thurk took a step back and allowed the other man to rise. “What’s your name?”
“Gognan,” the orc spoke, hands still held non-threateningly. “This had better be good. Lazg ain’t gonna be happy.”
“Just get going,” Thurk said.
The gangster started off deeper into Tusker territory. Thurk followed behind with his gun aimed at the spot between the other orc’s shoulder blades.
They had not walked far when Gognan stopped suddenly in the center of the road. Turning to a nearby building, he flashed a quick hand signal. Moments later, the window slid open.
“Don’t shoot!” Gognan called. “I think he’s crazy! Wants to see Lazg.”
“Head to the alleyway by the old hideout. The boss will meet you there,” a voice spoke from the open window. When it quieted, the window slammed shut.
“Why didn’t you let them shoot me?” Thurk asked.
“Cause if they missed I’m afraid you would have killed me first.”
Thurk grunted in response. Gognan was probably right.
The Tusker continued leading the way, now heading into a much seedier part of the city. Slowly, it became familiar to Thurk. This was the exact neighborhood into which he had followed Galai that first day in New Stad.
Finally, the pair came to a stop. They were in the alley where Thurk had fought Lazg and the other Tuskers. The ladder which he had dropped still hung down from the fire escape, and a few blood stains showed under what remained of the snow.
“This is it. Can I go now?” Gognan asked.
“Not yet,” Thurk answered.
Neither orc spoke; they just waited. Gognan stood halfway down the alleyway, looking out toward the street. Thurk waited just a few feet behind him, never letting the barrel of his gun drop.
After nearly an hour, Thurk smelled the presence of several orcs. Not moments later, the sound of their approach reached his ears. When they finally appeared in the entrance of the alley, Thurk counted a dozen.
Lazg himself stood at the head of the group. He was just as huge as Thurk remembered him. The gang leader dressed in a long leather coat and wore dark black pants. One of his tusks was broken at the halfway point, the edge still ragged and sharp.
“The lawman is back,” Lazg said, his voice deep and powerful.
Thurk did not lower his gun from Gognan’s back. “Hello Lazg. This meeting need not go as poorly as our last. I have an offer for you.”
“Let my man go, and perhaps we may speak,” Lazg responded.
Thurk nodded, prodding Gognan in the back. “Go on.”
The orc looked back over his shoulder before sauntering to the other end of the alley to stand beside his comrades. Thurk was left holding his own against over a dozen men.
Lazg nodded, stepping forward. “What do you want, ranger?”
“I want to help you take down the Rat King.”
Lazg laughed; a hearty, booming thing that continued far longer than Thurk thought appropriate. The sound filled the air for a few moments more, and the big orc wiped tears from his eyes. “Take down the Rat King? Wow, lawman, you really must not be from around here.”
“Listen,” Thurk began. “The Rat King is trying to use magic. If he manages this, there may be no stopping him. He already controls the police and the Uptown Elves. He’ll be coming for the Tuskers next.”
“And we’ll stop him dead in his tracks,” Lazg answered confidently.
“Not if he has magic. He will slaughter you. I have seen what they possess. Enough magic items to raze this city to the ground. And your gang alongside it.”
The gang leader stopped then, looking at his men. He turned back to Thurk, something changed in his eyes.
“That casino is a fortress,” Lazg said. “Guarded day and night. The only way to get a sizeable force through is the loading bay on the first floor. But the place is entered by invitation only, and no orc could ever get in.”
“There has to be some back entrance,” Thurk said.
“Nothing,” Lazg answered. “Only way in beside the loading bay and the front door is through the roof. And there’s no ladder.”
“I’ll do it.” The voice came not from any of the orcs assembled in the alley, but from above them. So quiet that they might have missed it.
“Galai?” Thurk said, turning to see the boy clinging to the fire escape above him.
The druid dropped from his perch, landing as softly as a cat. “I’ll do it. Just like at the warehouse.”
“Ah,” Lazg said with recognition. “Little Squirrel. Why would you help this lawman?”
“Because,” Galai said, “he understands me. No one has ever understood me.”
“You don’t need to do this,” Thurk said. “We can find another way.”
“I want to do it,” Galai said.
“Alright,” Lazg strode up to Thurk with a hand outstretched. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal, lawman.”
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“ISN’T IT BEAUTIFUL?”
Janette stood beside Bruno in the basement of his casino, her hands bound. Electric lights, rare in most of the city, lit the long corridors and storage rooms in a strange synthetic glow.
Little folk bustled to and fro, bowing to the Rat King as they passed. None spoke, and none stopped for more than a few seconds. Even the sturdy dwarf holding Janette’s arms did not deign to speak a word.
They stood before a great machine, deep in the bowels of the basement. It seemed a sleeping beast, its pistons and flaps still and silent. The thing was massive, stretching for dozens of yards in either direction. A dwarf in a white lab coat hunched over one section, working busily with a wrench to tighten a few nuts and bolts.
“This machine,” Bruno said, “can extract magical energy and broadcast it into a wide area, activating any nearby items of power. The explosions, well, those were our attempts at a more portable option. Unfortunately, we’ve not yet perfected that aspect.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Janette asked.
“Because, Janette, I do not wish to kill you. You are a good woman, and a great leader. I wish for you to see the light in what I am doing here, and to join me.”
“You’re a mob boss,” Janette hissed. “I will not fall into your pocket.”
Bruno acted as though he did not hear the woman. “It was unfortunate that Thurk found our warehouse. That was a lot of cargo to move very quickly. And I cannot keep it here. The machine tends to have a... combustive effect if too many items of power are nearby.”
“What do you want with magic?” Blanca said.
“What do I want with magic?” Artificial light glinted in the halfling’s eye. “I saw thousands die. I myself killed dozens from my artillery position. Still, my people fight and die in the streets of New Stad. What if there was another option? With magic, I can ensure that none will stand against me; none of my people will ever step into danger.”
“You’re making a weapon.”
“No, Janette, I am making a future. A New World.”
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LAZG ASSEMBLED HIS gang at the edge of Tusker territory. Two score orcs of fighting age. Some carried billy clubs and bats, others clutched spears and blades, and a few wore gun belts displaying shining pistols.
“Alright, boy, there’s a door at the roof of the casino. Follow the steps all the way down to the first floor. Find the loading bay door mechanism and open it up. We’ll take it from there,” Lazg told Galai.
The streetwise boy nodded. Thurk was not worried, he told himself; sneaking around on rooftops was what the orphan was best at.
“You ready to go, lawman?” Lazg said.
Thurk nodded, pulling Doctor Octavio’s pill canister from his pocket and swallowing another of the things. The result was immediate, and the pain in his wounds fled his body.
“Let’s get on.”
Lazg raised his fist into the air and shouted, “Tuskers, are you ready?”
A chorus of growls and whoops answered the gangster. Orcs stomped their feet and clanged their weapons together. A few fired shots up at the sky.
“Alright boys! We’ve got a rat to kill!”
The force surged forward, Lazg at the helm. Thurk and Galai followed just behind. Through the adrenaline in his veins, the ranger wondered if allying with a bloodthirsty gang had indeed been the best course of action.
It was too late to turn back now, though. The orcs rolled through the streets in a united front toward the casino.
They covered the distance quickly, encountering no enemy patrols along the way.
A few blocks from the casino, they came to a stop and Lazg turned to Galai. “You’re up, Squirrel.”
Before the druid boy could leave, Thurk put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure that this is what you want to do? It might be dangerous.”
“You promised. Help me find my people.”
“You can go now, I’ll tell you how to find them. You don’t need to do this.”
Galai shrugged away from Thurk’s touch. “I can do this.”
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WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD to Thurk, Galai was off. Within minutes he had summited the nearest building and was running across its rooftop. Only a few more, and he would reach the casino.
The roofs here were close together, and Galai leaped from one to the other with ease. Soon, he stood perched on a ledge, fifty feet above the ground and three yards from the casino.
The big building loomed above him, stretching several stories higher than the one on which he currently stood. Sucking in a breath, the druid took a few steps back from the edge. Steadying himself, he rushed forward.
Springing up from the roof, Galai sailed out over the distance between the two buildings. Seconds passed, and he plummeted down.
Arms bent to absorb the shock, the urchin’s fingers locked onto a windowsill and held fast. With practiced ease, he began to scale the wall. Avoiding passing directly by windows so as to not be seen, he made his way upwards.
Dozens of yards of climbing later, and Galai pulled himself up onto the casino’s roof. His fingers and arms ached, but he had made it. Midway across the flat space was the entrance to a staircase. The door had been left propped open.
Galai glanced all about to ensure that no one was around and headed toward the doorway. One last look, and he stepped into the darkened stairwell.
––––––––
THURK AND THE TUSKERS moved as covertly as they could until they crouched together in a wide alley at the rear of the casino. The orcs did their best to keep quiet despite the rush of impending battle.
“Once those doors open, we’ve got to rush in and take the first floor as quick as we can. If they push us out, that's it,” Lazg said. “We won’t get the jump on them again.”
“How many fighters do you think are inside?” Thurk asked.
Lazg shrugged. “A few dozen, perhaps. It does not matter. We will carve them to pieces. The Little Ones have no heart for battle.”
Thurk was not so sure, but he dare not express his doubts to this proud orc.
“Where will Bruno be with Commissioner Blanca?”
“The basement, whole compound down there,” Lazg said.
“How do you know all this?” Thurk asked.
“My scouts have been watching the casino for many months,” Lazg answered. “We knew that the Little Ones were up to something, but we could not be sure what it was. Now we know.”
Thurk stared at the loading bay doors. At a strange sensation in his chest, he reached inside his coat and placed a hand over the wound there.
When he pulled it away, his fingers glistened wetly. Quickly, the ranger wiped the blood away on his pants.
Lazg watched silently from beside Thurk, his eyes narrowing.
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GALAI CAME TO A HEAVY metal door at the base of the stairs. Placing his hands against it, he put his ear to the cold steel and listened for any sign of noise behind the portal. He could not hear a thing.
Gently, he pushed the door open, and light flooded into the stairwell. The druid boy nearly gasped in shock at what lay beyond.
Hundreds of people bustled about in a wide open room, gambling at tables or sitting at bars. Harsh artificial light beat down from hanging fixtures as scantily clad women danced upon table tops while rich folk tossed them more money than Galai had ever seen. Loud piano music blared, piped throughout the place and filling the air.
For a little while, he stood entranced. The dazzling lights, beautiful people, and flashy clothes were as mesmerizing as anything could be. No one had noticed him yet, but he figured it would only be a matter of time. Compared to the finely clad patrons of this place, the dingy street child would stand out like a sore thumb.
At the other end of the room, Galai spotted another door much like the one he now stood behind. Above the door, written in blocky white letters, the words “Loading Bay: Do Not Enter,” were written. That was it. He just had to get there.
There were few areas of refuge along the walls of the casino. The floor plan was completely open, with no alcoves or hallways into which Galai could dart in the event he was seen. He would have to make the trip fully in the open. Luckily, he had spent his life hiding in plain sight.
Taking a deep breath and steadying his fast-beating heart, Galai stepped out into the Rat King’s casino. As he went, he slipped into the inconspicuous walk of a pickpocket. Like a fish in a school, the boy did not head straight toward the loading bay. Rather, he slipped along with the tides of patrons as they moved about the casino floor. In nature, squirrels often stole the acorns of their neighbors, and this Squirrel was no different. Between the staircase and the loading bay, his dirty pockets swelled with coins and fine jewelry.
Eventually, Galai drifted close to the loading bay door. Smoothly as possible, he split off and moved to the exit. Upon pulling the handle, he realized with terror that it was locked. Again he yanked on it, and still it would not open.
Panic ran through Galai’s body like ice. If he could not get into the loading bay, then this plan was not going to work. The Commissioner would stay in the Rat King’s clutches, Galai would fail his new friends, and Thurk would not show him the path to the other druids.
Scanning the room again, Galai spotted a dwarf leaning against a nearby bar. At first, Galai thought he might be just another gambler. The little man was not dressed in fine clothes, though, but rather wore leather armor and carried a small ax at his belt. Beside the ax hung a ring of keys.
Galai knew what he had to do.
“Where the hell is he?” an orc grumbled from somewhere nearby Thurk.
“Dead, slipped off the roof or caught by the Rat’s men,” another answered.
Thurk turned on the men. “Give him time.”
“Listen lawman,” Lazg said, “we can’t wait forever. If the boy has failed, so have we.”
Gognan rose from his crouch. “Let’s get outta here. This was a fool’s errand from the start.”
The gangster made it a few steps when the sound of Thurk’s twin hammers echoed out in the alley. Gognan froze in an instant, the sound all too familiar to him.
“Lawman...” Lazg growled. “Let’s not do anything we might regret.”
Slowly, the gang boss reached down for a pistol which sat on his hip. Thurk did not lower his own gun.
“We’re doing this. You lot are gonna keep your word,” Thurk said.
Lazg’s hand closed on the handle of his gun. All around the alley, green fingers drew their weapons. Before any had a chance to use them, a clunking sound came from the rear of the casino. When they looked, the loading bay doors began to open.
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JANETTE WATCHED AS Bruno’s head cocked strangely to the side. “Ah, our guests should be arriving at any moment.” The Rat King smiled and turned to the lab coat clad dwarf. “Start the machine.”
“Yes-yes-yes sir. Only thing, it ain’t ready yet, still gotta tighten the nuts and bolts after last time’s... uh, accident. The emergency shut off system is—”
“Start the machine.” Bruno’s eyes were hard.
The mechanic swallowed. “Right away.”
Pulling on a pair of large goggles, the dwarf moved to stand beside a large panel covered in metal switches. All pointed down, in the off position. One by one, he flipped them on. Next, he moved to a series of pipes along the wall and twisted their valves until they were open. Finally, he pulled out a large key from his coat pocket and inserted it into a slot on the machine itself.
Sweat dripping from his brow, the dwarf turned the key, and the machine roared to life. Hundreds of pistons pumped in time as steam flowed in from the pipes. Dials above the panel’s many switches spun wildly.
Bruno laughed with delight. “Come now, Janette. Let us meet our visitors.”
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GALAI SMILED AS THE door moved slowly open. He had nabbed the keys entirely unnoticed. The loading bay was dark and quiet, and he had found the mechanism easily enough.
Stepping back from the lever, Galai looked to the widening gap beneath the door. He would slip through and await the raid’s end. He had no business in the thick of whatever battle was to come.
But before he could move, a small hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him backwards. At the same time, someone kicked his feet out from under him, sending him falling to the ground.
As Galai hit the floor, he saw a halfling woman standing above him. He scrambled away as she produced a knife from its sheath.
“Now, now, little one,” the woman cooed. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. My name is Alevea, and I am going to kill you. And after that, I am going to kill that stupid orc.”
The hairs on the back of Galai’s neck stood up. He thought it was only the fear of death, but beneath his palms and through the floor he began to feel a rumbling.
Alevea advanced on Galai, blade still in hand. The boy stood quickly, backing away. Soon, his back touched the wall, and the assassin lunged.
Her blade no more than an extension of her arm, Galai could do nothing but swat his hand down at the weapon.
Inside every druid is a beast, a spirit animal, the orphan knew this much. But Galai did not know his beast; and the creature within the boy known as Squirrel was no squirrel at all.
By the time Galai’s hand reached Alevea’s, it was no longer a hand, but a paw equipped with long claws. As the knife flew away with a splatter of blood, the halfling balked and stumbled backwards as the druid roared.
Before Alevea now stood a mountain lion, the remains of Galai’s clothes hanging in tatters from its body. Dozens of coins and bits of jewelry clattered to the ground, falling from torn pockets.
The mountain lion stalked toward Alevea, one front paw crossing in front of the other. Muscles bunched and rolled beneath its skin. The halfling woman did what any sane person would do; she ran.
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AS THURK AND THE TUSKERS ran toward the casino, the ranger could swear he sensed a strangeness in the air. Telling himself it was nothing but the anticipation of battle and Octavio’s pills, he ran on.
By the time they reached the clanking door, it had already risen enough for the orcs to pass under without ducking. The interior of the loading bay was dark and empty.
Thurk and Lazg stopped just inside the doors, and the rest of the fighters stopped behind them. As they did so, a large shape slunk out of the gloom of the loading bay. A mountain lion, dressed in rags. As Thurk raised his shotgun to his shoulder, a unique smell reached his powerful nose: rainwater and dirt.
“Lawman... I think...” Lazg muttered.
“You smell it too?” Thurk asked and lowered his gun. “Galai?”
The mountain lion roared in answer, clawing at the air. If the druid had been able to change his form, it meant that there was magic at play here.
Just then, light flooded the loading bay as artificial bulbs attached to the ceiling switched on. Doors opened around the room, and armed dwarves and halflings swarmed into the space. They moved in practiced order, filing around the pallets and boxes which lay scattered over the floor.
Behind the Little Ones came Blanca’s former officers. The men and women of the law carried their standard issue weapons in hand and marched in time with the gangsters.
As the pounding footsteps of the Little Ones slowed to a stop, the clacking of fine leather boots on concrete rang out. The smell of sandalwood drifted in alongside it. The noise echoed as Bruno strode into the center of the room. The halfling carried his briefcase in one hand. Behind him followed a dwarf, his strong hands holding Janette Blanca’s arms tight.
“Ah, see?” Bruno said. “I knew that our druid friend would return to us! And an army of orcs besides, how pleasant.”
The orcs bristled, raising their weapons.
“This is it Bruno, give it up,” Thurk said. “Don’t let your men die over this. Release Blanca and come with us quietly.”
“Ah Thurk, my kindred spirit. Do you remember the Tain?”
“This is not the time for reminiscing,” Thurk said.
“Do you remember? How the artillery waited while you retreated? How the gray shirts stormed our position and slaughtered us by the hundreds?”
Gunsmoke drifted into the air, rising to mingle with the clouds until the soldiers could not be sure where one began and the other ended. Artillery fire echoed in Thurk’s ears, and the rounds sailed high over the ground to rain death from above. Bodies choked the creek, slowing its flow.
Thurk blinked. “The war was long ago, Bruno.”
“Not long enough...” The little mob boss lowered his briefcase carefully to the ground, undoing the latches one at a time. “My people will not die here today, infantryman. This battle will mark the beginning. Without the Tuskers or the police, New Stad will slip into my hands more easily than I could have hoped.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” Thurk answered.
Bruno slowly opened his briefcase. “Do you know why I was on that train, Thurk?”
Thurk did not answer. Instead, he lifted his gun until it pointed at the center of Bruno’s chest.
“Word had reached me,” Bruno continued, “of a strange event far out in the Badlands. In a town called Gaynesville. Of an Elder Beast who had been slain. An orc had killed her. An Albara Ranger.”
Thurk’s green skin paled. The tale of how he had slain Elizabeth had become known in much of the west, but he had not thought that any would learn of it this far away from the place.
“The bones of such beasts hold great power, though few know this. I had to go alone, of course, as it was far too powerful an artifact to send one of my men. When I arrived in Gaynesville, the townspeople had burned the body. Among the ashes, though, I found this...”
Bruno lifted a blackened wand from his case, carved from a single, long bone. As he raised the magic weapon, the amulet around Thurk’s neck grew warmer until it was uncomfortably hot against his skin.
“Take cover!” Thurk yelled to his orc companions.
But it was too late. With a wicked laugh, Bruno unleashed the power of his weapon. Blue lightning crackled about the thing, running up the halfling’s arms and into the ground. Jabbing his arm forward, the Rat King launched a bolt of energy at the group of Tuskers.
The orcs dove for cover as the bolt came cruising in. It struck one of the gangsters directly in the midsection, sending him sailing a dozen yards to fall onto the street outside. His body lay limp and smoking.
Thurk threw himself behind a large crate, hitting the ground hard and sending a jolt of pain through his body. As he did, Bruno’s forces began firing on the Tuskers. Half of the Little Ones held small wands which shot peas of fire or golden orbs of energy. The others fired rifles and handguns.
Most of the orcs made it to cover. A few, though, lay in crumpled heaps on the loading bay floor. Lazg himself stood behind a support beam a few yards from where Thurk crouched.
As the ranger watched, the Tusker leader stepped out of cover, his long coat flowing behind him. Leveling his pistol, the man fired off a few rounds before ducking back behind the beam. As he did, dozens of bullets and magical projectiles struck the thing.
“What’re we going to do, lawman?” Lazg called.
But Thurk was far away. The ranger’s eyes had glazed over, and his shotgun shook in his hands. The sight of those Tuskers lying dead upon the ground sent him back twenty years.
His men, dead on the dirt floor. Dozens of enemies streaming in.
“Lawman!” Lazg called. “Snap out of it! Are you good?”
Thurk shook his head, returning to the present. “I’m good.”
The sound of crackling energy came again, followed by a blue burst of light. Thurk’s amulet burned hot. A wooden crate nearby exploded into splinters. The Tusker behind it fell away screaming.
“Take them!” Bruno called to his fighters. “And if they won’t submit, dead is as good as alive!”
Dozens of voices cried out and the sound of charging feet followed. Thurk popped up out of cover, firing both slugs in quick succession. Two dwarves fell to the ground, their chests reduced to gore.
Thurk ducked back down just in time as bullets ripped into the crate and whizzed over his head. A wave of heat crashed over him when a ball of magical fire ignited the wood.
An ax-wielding dwarf ran by Lazg, and the gangster put two rounds in the man’s back. Somewhere in the room, Galai roared. A voice cried out before devolving into pained screams.
One orc stood and darted for the door. He made it a few yards before his body was raked by a dozen blows. He fell to the ground, a smoldering wreck.
Running footsteps approached Thurk’s position, followed by the sound of a boot on the top of the crate. Thurk pointed his gun straight into the air and fired. A halfling slumped gracelessly to the ground, followed by two knives.
Again, the ranger popped up, leveling his gun. Thurk fired on an officer standing near Bruno’s position, and the man tumbled to the ground.
“We’re pinned, Lazg!” Thurk called.
“Not for long!” the big orc responded. “Boys! It’s time!”
The brave leader fired off the remaining rounds in his pistol and dropped the weapon to the ground. Next, he removed his dark coat and folded it before placing it at his feet.
“The Rage calls, lawman. Will you join us?”
Thurk shook his head. “I cannot. But I will cover you.”
Lazg nodded, standing tall. He began to hyperventilate then, pounding his chest and roaring. All around the room, his men roared back. As one, the Tuskers raged.
Thurk stood as Lazg charged. The raging gangster swung at the first approaching enemy, breaking their neck with a single punch. A rifleman nearby the Rat King swiveled and took aim, but Thurk fired before he could. At this range, his shotgun was not as accurate as he would like, but the slug struck his enemy all the same.
The rest of the Tuskers charged out behind their leader, a lust for blood filling their minds. Thurk knew the feeling. He knew the anger and rage, he knew the ecstasy of a kill. He knew all too well.
A handful of orcs went down before they reached the main body of the enemy, but once there they began to carve through them with reckless abandon. At close range, it was too dangerous for the Little Ones to use their magic, and so they fought hand-to-hand.
Thurk followed close behind the Tuskers, firing into the gaps in their attack at whatever enemies appeared. The orcs were still vastly outnumbered, and the Little Ones began to group together and back toward the rear of the loading bay.
As they retreated, Bruno called out: “Archers!”
On a walkway above the loading bay doors, a dozen men dressed as elves walked out with bows drawn. As one, they began firing at the back of the group of Tuskers. Three of the raging orcs fell before any realized what was happening.
Diving away from an arrow just in time, Thurk rolled and came up facing toward the walkway. He fired off a few shots, but the slugs ricocheted far off target. The other orcs paid the archers no heed, allowing the projectiles to pierce their flesh while still leading their attack on the Rat King’s main force.
Thurk took aim again, though he knew he could not make the shot from this distance. But then a tan blur streaked out across the room.
Galai leaped a dozen feet from the ground, his large paws connecting with a support beam and propelling him further into the air. Claws scraped metal, and the beast climbed into the archer’s midst. Screams pierced the air, and one man fell flailing to the loading bay floor.
Thurk turned back just in time as a heavyset dwarf swinging a large hammer came charging his way. The hammer came in fast, but he dodged backwards, narrowly avoiding a devastating blow. Using his empty shotgun like a club, the ranger slammed the weapon into the dwarf’s temple.
As the dwarf stumbled away, Thurk opened the gun and pulled out both spent shells in one hand. Throwing the shells aside, he pulled out two new rounds and slammed them into place.
The dwarf warrior recovered his balance and charged at Thurk with his hammer held high above his head. “Die, ye green bugger!”
Thurk pulled both triggers when the dwarf was only a few steps away. The man stopped dead in his tracks, letting his great war hammer fall to the ground. He took two more steps, blood bubbling from the corner of his mouth, before collapsing.
Another enemy came running in; a halfling with a short dirk in hand. Thurk backpedaled as he came, doing his best to avoid that nasty little blade. Looking past his enemy, the orc ranger saw that many of the Tuskers had fallen, though the survivors still fought valiantly.
The dirk-wielding halfling came in quickly, swinging with precise cuts aimed for Thurk’s vital regions. Dodging as best as he could with his aching wounds, the ranger backed away.
From somewhere nearby, the sound of crackling power reached Thurk, followed by the smell of burning ozone. Again, his amulet burned on his chest.
“Thurk, watch out!” Janette’s voice cried.
The ranger moved aside as a bolt of energy sizzled past and struck the halfling he was battling, blasting him a dozen feet across the room.
Turning, Thurk spotted Bruno, who was backing toward a side door. The halfling leader eyed Thurk with eyes like burning coals. A dwarf dragged Janette along behind the mob boss.
“Stop, Bruno!”
The Rat King fired off another magical blast, forcing Thurk to dive aside. When he rose, Bruno and Janette had disappeared.
Reloading his coach gun, Thurk ran after Bruno. He hit the door shoulder first, blasting into a downward sloping hallway. It was dimly lit, and just wide enough for the orc to stand. His large hat grazed the low ceiling.
As the door swung closed behind him, a dwarf stepped out from around the nearest corner. It was Janette's guard, with a small buckler on one forearm and a short sword in hand.
Thurk fired, and the dwarf raised his little shield. Both rounds ricocheted off the hard steel, spraying sparks. With a yell, the bearded little man charge at the ranger. He swung the buckler first, knocking Thurk’s shotgun to the floor.
With a high kick to the chest, Thurk pushed the dwarf backwards and drew his revolver from its holster. He fired five rounds in less than two seconds. Two struck the dwarf’s shield, shooting sparks, but three found his chest.
Stepping over the dwarf’s body, Thurk headed straight down the main hallway. As he descended, a strange sound became audible. It was the low roar of a machine, not unlike the rumble of a rushing train.
The roar became louder as Thurk moved into the bowels of the casino. Sandalwood lingered in the tunnel’s still air; Bruno had been through here. The farther he walked, the warmer his amulet grew.
Down and down he went until a voice sounded over the machine’s vibrations:
“Turn it up.”
“I can’t, your majesty. The machine can’t handle the stress. It’s not ready.”
Thurk turned into a side room from where the voices originated. Bruno stood before an immense machine, its pistons pumping as valves opened and closed. Steam filled the room. Janette stood nearby, her hands still bound. A dwarf in a white lab coat was nearest to Thurk, a large wrench in his hands.
As Thurk crossed the threshold, the lab coat wearing dwarf spun, lifting his wrench. Thurk fired one round and the little man stumbled back, blood blossoming on his jacket. He collided with a large control panel, flipping switches as he slumped to the ground.
Bruno lifted his bone wand as Thurk turned to aim at him. Blue electricity flickered all along the weapon, running down his arm and spreading around his body.
“Drop the coach gun, Thurk,” Bruno threatened.
Thurk did not move, his eyes going to Janette. She seemed unharmed, mostly, though her hair was out of sorts and a few dark bruises mottled her skin.
“Alright, Bruno, let’s not do anything rash here,” Thurk said, allowing the tip of his gun to lower toward the floor.
“You are a smart man, Thurk. And you know I’m right. When I own this city, no more will die. There will be no more of this gang-on-gang nonsense.”
Thurk nodded, lowering his gun a bit more. “Just let us go, Bruno, and we won’t bother you anymore.”
“There’s only one thing between me and this city now,” the Rat King said.
“And what’s that?”
“The law.”
The bone wand surged with power, blue light casting over Bruno’s face as a slick smile slid over it. Thurk’s amulet grew so hot that it burned against his skin.
Before the lightning bolt could fire, Janette flung herself at the deranged mob boss, knocking him aside. As she did, the wand went off, sending a powerful bolt shooting just past Thurk to scorch the wall behind him.
The two combatants rolled across the floor, Blanca’s hands still tied. As they did, the wand fired again, and the bolt struck a pipe on the wall. Instantly, hot steam flooded the room, obscuring their vision. Thurk dropped his shotgun to the ground and pulled out the long knife at his belt.
“Thurk! He got away!” Janette cried.
From behind the ranger came a sizzling sound, like bacon on a griddle. He turned but did not have time to dodge as a lightning bolt came flying toward him. The world turned blue, and his hat flew from his head as Thurk tumbled across the room. His back struck the huge machine’s flank, tearing the stitches in his chest. Miraculously, he was alive, though smoke now curled from his mother’s amulet.
The steam was so thick that Thurk could see neither of the other two people in the room. Blood trickled from his wounds, soaking his shirt. His hat lay at his feet, and he stooped over to grab it.
“The lawman is dead!” Bruno called out. “Give it up, Commissioner!”
The woman’s only response was a wild cry, and the sound of a fight again rose up. Something heavy collided with flesh, and Bruno growled with pain. Another bolt of lightning came shooting out of the mist, striking the machine near to where Thurk stood. Instantly, the racing hum of the thing grew quicker, more frantic. Nuts and bolts pinged off, striking the walls. Again came the sound of metal striking flesh, and Thurk could just hear the sound of a body hitting the floor over the machine’s clamor.
One hand pressed to his chest wound and the other gripping his knife handle, Thurk stepped away from the machine. The great thing bucked as he did so, shaking the ground and nearly knocking the orc from his feet.
One shaking step after another, Thurk made his way toward Bruno. A figure emerged from the gloom, a wrench gripped in its hand. Thurk swung his blade, only stopping himself at the last moment. It was Janette, standing over Bruno’s prone form.
The world shook again.
“Thurk!” Janette exclaimed, dropping her wrench and moving to the orc’s side. “You’re hurt!”
“I’m fine,” Thurk grimaced. “We’ve gotta get out of here. This machine is going to blow any minute.”
Blanca nodded, putting one of Thurk’s arms over her shoulders. Together, they walked toward the exit, grabbing his shotgun on the way.
The machine began to shake more violently, and Thurk feared that the entire casino might fall down on their heads. Despite the tremors, the pair of law officers made it up the sloping hallway and into the loading bay.
Most of the Little Ones lay on the ground or had fled into the casino or onto the street. Outside, dozens of patrons fled the building. A few of the Tuskers, Lazg included, still stood in the loading bay. They looked about, slightly confused, just coming out of the Rage.
“Lawman! What happened!” Lazg called, picking his jacket up from the floor and pulling it over his broad shoulders. The gangster winced in pain and blood dribbled from a dozen wounds.
“Bruno is dead, and we’ve got to get out of here,” Thurk answered. “Where is Squirrel?”
“I’m here,” a voice called from the rafters where the archers had stood.
Galai hopped down nimbly, back in human form the boy seemed different somehow. He carried himself well, his chin high. Though his clothes hung in ragged tatters from his body, the druid seemed almost regal.
Deep underground, the Rat King’s machine bucked again, and the casino shook. Lights on the ceiling burst into shards, and boxes fell from their piles.
“Let’s go!” Blanca cried. “It’s coming down!”
Together, the survivors ran out onto the street. As they did, the grand casino began to fall. Bricks cracked and tumbled to the ground as the last few stragglers from within did their best to flee. Floor by floor, the monolith to Bruno’s power tumbled to rubble.
As the building settled, the machine gave its final shake and exploded. While the rubble blocked most of the shock wave, a ripple of golden energy rushed out, unheeded by any physical obstacles. As the wave passed through Thurk’s body, a feeling of warmth was cast over him, and his amulet hummed ever so slightly.
As quickly as it had come, the energy was gone.