Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Flash Fic Party, Day 12: Izzy!

I'm 2000+ words behind for today (not to mention late as hell posting this), so I've got to keep it short and sweet. Israia's player has been a friend of mine for over a year now; somehow his gregarious elf Callie managed to bellyflop right into the middle of Thiyenn's RP without scaring her off (don't get me wrong, she was terrified, but she didn't flee, and that's the main thing). When Cata comes and Thiyenn's baby starts growing up and mobile, they're probably going to have to take turns checking into an asylum. It should be fun!

Izzy had a hell of a time keeping his fic under 1000 words, but in the end he was successful and shared this piece about Rodel, a resident of Gilneas during some... turbulent times. (That's vague-speak for "they's werewolves up in this bizzatch".)

It's definitely got a high violence rating, consider yourself warned!

Author: Israia
Word count: 999

“There I was, in Stormwind’s Old Town District,” said Rodel, a tall, black-haired, green-eyed, tough-looking, drunk man. “I knew where the bastard was. He’d beaten ‘ell outta that kid, Ashley.”

“What kid? ‘Dja ‘aven’t told me ‘bout any kid,” his companion for the night said, a burly young man dressed in all black. Rodel didn’t even remember his name.

“Had blonde hair ‘n blue eyes. Hell of a smile- Nether, hell of a kid. He was m’ best one to keep watch when I ‘ad to be out of the city for a time, ‘n the kid was a good enough pickpocket ‘e could take your scabbard clean off of you without you noticing. Quick hands with a feather’s touch- ‘e was barely reachin’ his teens, but I told ‘im he’d make a girl happier than any gold could, even then.

"But that bloke, this mook for the Sevens. He’d followed the kid. He’d seen how much gold the kid was carryin’, gold I gave him, ‘n was curious. Maybe I paid ‘im too much, maybe he’d never had to hide that much before. Either way, this Seven thought he didn’t deserve it, ‘n beat the ever-livin’ hell outta the kid for it.”

Rodel took another big, long drink of Gilneas’ best beer, which in any other city wouldn’t be fit to drink. But it was harder than any other beer. “Now, I thought the kid was tough, but ‘pparently I was wrong. He din’t even fight back. He just let the bastard break him into a new face. Then a new chest. A broken arm, a few broken ribs. By the time I found the kid, I thought he’d have to spend a few days at ‘is Mum’s, restin’ up covered in bandages, me giving her more than she made that year to keep both their mouths shut. But he wasn’t so lucky.

"I hadn’t even knocked ‘n he stopped breathing. I hadn’t noticed, but I did when I noticed he din’t have bad breath anymore. I could smell the smoke again. Old Town never smelled like smoke, but everywhere--during that first cold of the season, everywhere smells like smoke. Maybe ‘tis memory. I just remember that smell comin’ back.”

Another drink. “Stuffed two hundred in his pack and left him at her door. Didn’t do her any good. She’d already lost ‘er husband at the end of the First War, ‘n this... I read they found ‘er body in the canals a few days later.”

He went to take another drink, but nothing was left but a few drops. He tossed the tankard across the room.

“I hunted down that rat bastard. I’d spent a few days watchin’ ‘im, ‘n while I did I got just the right things. Couple batteries from some goblin’s piece of junk, some clamps, ‘n lots of alcohol. Rigged up this machine, basically was a stove tha’ ran off of electrical power- couldja believe it? Regardless, I wanted to give th’ man a good shock ‘n make sure he didn’t bleed.”

Rodel’s voice fell a few octaves. He couldn't hear the pitter-patter on the steps down his stairs over the rain, that seemed to be picking up outside. He could hear people rushing, shouting, but he didn’t bother to pay attention.

“I’d done it before. Hell, the entire job I’d done before- Genn- err, King Genn Greymane- he sent me. Wanted it to be easy, a last job, before the little one. It’s funny, I couldn’t remember anything from the kid but his eyes. Those bright green eyes. Reminded me of Martha. ‘n that’s all I saw. I ignored the screams of Shaw’s grunt. I think I electrocuted ‘im more times than anything-- well, ‘side the cauterizing. That’s what the stove was for. But... took m’ time with the blade, prongs, ‘n brand all. I never was satisfied. He ended up giving a lot of information- nothin’ I needed, ‘course, we weren’t at war, just keeping tabs for peace’s sake. He just wanted it to end.”

His silent companion had stopped drinking by now, with a tankard still half-full. Rodel snatched it up and dumped the contents down his throat with an exasperated gasp. “After that, another blackjack to his head, and that was it. The Sevens probably thought some piss-ant thieves did it, might’ve even killed ‘em for it, but I didn’t care. Not a lot of smart thieves in Stormwind in those days who weren’t an older Costa. I just wish the bastard wouldn’t have screamed so loud when I --”

The front door came open with a crash, a bang, and the scream of a little girl nearly falling down the steps. Before another breath was taken, Rodel was out of his chair and nearly at the throat of the man who’d nearly busted down his door. He didn’t look scared of Rodel, but immediately said: “Rodel, you’ve gotta come quick, it’s Martha, she’s-”

The little girl began to cry. He sheathed his knife at his side immediately, and brought his little girl up in the same motion. “Shhh, Ashley, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. C’mon, we gotta getcha back up to bed--” he whispered to her, as the messenger came out of the noisy, cold rain and shut the door. Carrying his little girl upstairs, Rodel brought her to her room, and tucked her in. “Back to sleep, pumpkin. It’s night-time. Sorry for the loud noises, just sleep now, okay?” She didn’t nod to him. She had barely spoken her first word a couple weeks beforehand. “Mommy and Daddy love you.” he whispered one last time to her, before creeping to the door, and closing it softly behind him. Lightning echoed the shutting of the latch.

Once downstairs, Rodel relaxed. “This better be good, Harper.”

“Somethin’ happened to Martha. It’s a bloody mess, her shirt, ‘twas ripped to shreds, it--”

“What in the hell happened to her, Harper?” Rodel took both of the man’s shoulders.

“Somethin’ bit her.”

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