《GATTICAN DRIVE》 1. Doorstep Dude Dies In This One 9 days before the end of the world, somewhere within a vast dark wasteland, a city that once floated majestically atop gentle waves of wine now lay stranded at the bottom of a dry ocean; a decrepit metropolis sprawled out in shambles beneath an endless sea of black clouds. The city was called the Shallows, and it¡¯s citizens fucking hated it. What? I¡¯m projecting? No, no, this place is shit. It¡¯s the truth. Objectively. See for yourself. In the slums on the south side of the city, a man in a gas mask and a long tattered coat sat on a doorstep with his forearms on his knees, surrounded by trash. He blinked slowly and spoke. ¡°I fuckin hate this city.¡± Ooh, do elaborate. ¡°Elaborate?¡± Sure, just talk about whatever led you to feel this way. What, precisely, do you hate? ¡°What do I hate?¡± The man scoffed. He gestured at the air with a finger, leaving a swirling path behind in the thick purple mist. ¡°Air¡¯s poison. Nothing to drink that don¡¯t get you drunk, nothing to eat that ain¡¯t stale or rotted. Thieves are more common than chit. If you got a roof over your head, you don¡¯t got shelter, instead you got a target painted on your back for the gangs: Get this guy, take his shit. That¡¯s just what I can come up with off the top of my head. Far worse shit happens.¡± BLAM! BLAM! RATATATATATATAT! The man shrunk his neck down in his coat and recoiled in fear as a blue car full of gnomes with guns squealed by, belching steam from its engine and spitting lightning from its exhaust pipes. The gnomes leaned out of every window and unleashed a hail of gunfire that ricocheted off the armored body of the pitch black car behind them. The frog headed beastman at the wheel of the black car was expressionless as countless bullets bounced off his windshield with benign little tink-tink-tink sounds. He shifted gears, the engine growled in response, and the armored car barreled forwards, rocking and swerving in hot pursuit. In the passenger seat next to him, a frog beastman with a mullet and dark shades CROAKed loudly as his neck ballooned outwards. A bright blue glow shone through the thin layer of stretched skin as his throat swelled with mana charged air. He shoved his head out the window, pulled up his gas mask and opened his mouth, and a ball of energy coalesced at the back of his throat as his mullet waved wildly in the wind. tink-tink-tink-tink THUK! THUK! He deftly caught two bullets with his throat, and two jets of blood and energy sprayed from his rapidly deflating goiter. He clutched at his neck and swallowed. BOOM! The top half of his body exploded, the gnomes cheered, and the black armored car rocked up onto two wheels, nearly fell on its side, then slammed back down to the ground. The black car raced forwards undeterred, leaving a trail of sparks on the concrete in it¡¯s wake as it dragged the passenger side door along on a single twisted hinge. I must say though, the spray of bright green frog blood and gore the right half of the car is now sporting is really a rather stylish accent on top of the black armor plating. Digression though. These guys are still trying to kill each other. The frog beastman behind the wheel blinked at his dead partner and dispelled the floating bloody shield he used to block the explosion. He pulled a curved dagger from its sheath on his leg. The blade glinted in the light as he floored the gas pedal and spurred the car onward. A grinning gnome poked her head out the top of the speeding blue car. She pulled out a long black gun with a rectangular barrel, shoved a mana crystal into the breech, threw the bolt forward and locked it. The gun hummed to life and purple light flared out from the vents on each side of the barrel. She mounted the gun on her shoulder and swung it around to ai- SHIK! Her head lolled sideways as a flying curved knife embedded into the side of her head up to its handle.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The frog beastman quickly pulled his throwing arm back into the car before the concentrated gunfire from the other gnomes could tear it to shreds. The gnome with the knife in her head wobbled, swayed, and slipped back down into the blue car, dragging the gun with her. Her finger pulled the trigger as the barrel swung upwards. *click* Far away, in the center of the city, fireworks whistled into to the sky, vanished for a brief moment, then reappeared in a pretty burst of bright, short lived sparkles. On a street in the slums on the south side of that same city, a thin purple line of light silently cut through the air above a blue car until it formed a tiny pinprick of piercing light that briefly hovered, motionless. And then a piercing cacophonous shriek screamed to life as the innocuous point of light ripped through space and expanded into a gaping black maw that swallowed air with a fearful intensity, a titanic black sphere that pulled everything near it into oblivion. Countless panes of glass shattered, flew, and became a short lived crystalline hurricane of blades that magnetized towards the event horizon and vanished without a trace, the heavy pull of gravity bent street lights towards it, crumbled sidewalk ripped out of the ground and flew into the sky, garbage cans and refuse went whirling upwards, spaghettified and vanished past the event horizon. The two cars began to lift off the ground as they were pulled towards the ominous sphere. The gnomes panicked while the frog beastman simply stared, expressionless. The two cars hurtled towards destruction, inches away from its edge, when... VOOMP! The singularity abruptly collapsed in on itself and vanished, leaving two missing semi spheres of concrete and glass carved clean out of the two tall buildings on either side of the street as the only evidence of it¡¯s existence. The two cars crashed back down to the street, bouncing and rocking on squeaky suspensions for a moment. And then the two vivisected buildings began to LEAAAAN inwards, 11 floors of concrete and metal folding in on improvised hinges before snapping off and dropping straight towards the street, casting dark shadows over the two cars. The gnome driver flattened the gas pedal, his face a violently contorted mask of pure adrenaline. ¡°¡¯Old on teh yer arses!¡± He shouted as he thumbed the Nos button on the gear stick. The blue car burned rubber and rushed forwards, flames and lightning spewing from its rear. The frog beastman shifted into reverse and stomped on the accelerator, and he calmly stared up at the buildings crashing down above him as the black car shot backwards. The blue car darted past the edge of the oncoming shadow just as the building crashed down with a... crash. On the opposite side, the frog beastman casually wrenched the wheel to the side and drifted, and the building slashed off the black car¡¯s driver¡¯s side mirror as it slammed to the ground. The gnome driver looked in his rear view mirror at the chaos behind them and laughed heartily. ¡°AHAHAH! Lights ¡®r all cleah, and teh sky¡¯s green, boys!¡± The gnomes cheered. CRUNCH. A fat piece of rubble crashed down and split the car in two from front to back, crushing one half flat while sending the other spiraling through the air, burning like a hail mary thrown by a pissed off lava golem. The wreckage touched down and exploded, leaving a rolling line of flame along the street. Seconds later, the long black gun came whirling down from the sky and clattered on the ground, battered and smoking. The frog beastman kicked open his door, stood, and stared at the disaster scene in front of him blankly. He lifted a hand and focused on his dagger. The blade came spinning up through the air towards his hand and he grabbed it and sheathed it on his leg in one smooth motion. Fireworks rapidly bloomed in the sky above the center of the city as sounds of fear, shock, and despair filled the air in the slums as the survivors of all the destruction mourned the deceased. Amidst the screams, the frog beastman calmly looked at his watch. A holographic HUD flashed to life, an overhead map with the flashing text ¡®Tracking! Tracking!¡¯ hovering over a motionless blip on the opposite side of the towering rubble. The frog beastman stepped back into the black car, pulled out, and sped off in the direction he came from. The man in the gas mask with the long tattered coat slowly uncurled from the fetal position on the doorstep and brushed the dust and debris off his shirt. He continued speaking as if there was barely even an interruption. ¡°Like I was saying, far worse shit happens in the Shallows.¡± He looked down at his hands. One of them was covered in red. He opened his coat up and blood poured down from where a stray bullet had lodged itself in his liver. He went limp. ¡°And it happens all the time. Haha... you asked... what I hated about this city?¡± He coughed blood and shuddered. His last words were like a whisper. ¡°What¡¯s not to hate?¡± See. Not projecting. Ass-tier city, reviled by all. What? Small sample si-- this isn¡¯t a fucking statistics textbook, this is real shit! That doorstep dude and all those nice gnomes just fucking died in the streets and you still don¡¯t believe me? Doorstep dude even had a deathbed soliloquy like he¡¯s some sorta shakespeare character or some shit and you have the audacity to not fall for his argument, you¡¯re just gonna casually cite ¡®oh, appeal to emotion fallacy¡¯ like some sort of unfeeling slave? Fine. I¡¯ll get you your godsdamned sample size. Look at that lady over there in the ratty dress pushing that baby stroller down that dark alley. Let¡¯s get her attention. 2. Mr. Bitey has a sophisticated palate ?a va, Madame? ¡°Terrible monsieur, terrible.¡± Excellent! Tell me all about how you hate this city. The fae woman shook her head, her moth-like wings drooping to the ground. Aigoo, you poor thing, come now, tell me what happened to you? ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to find the person singing! It sounds like my husband!¡± Singing huh....? ¡°Do you hear it?¡± Oh you know, I think I do, but just, hum along with him so I can make sure we¡¯re hearing the same thing. ¡°Hmm hmm huuummm hum hmmmm...¡± Oh THAT singing, the one that goes like Hmm hmm huuummm hum hmmmm, right? ¡°Yes!¡± No idea where it¡¯s coming from, sorry. ¡°Oh, what a shame. I¡¯ve been looking for so long that I¡¯ve hardly found the time to feed my baby! It¡¯s so hard to feed him now, my boy¡¯s looking so thin, so small..." She looked sadly into the baby carriage she was pushing... Huh. Yeah that carriage is definitely empty. An incubus stepped out of the shadows, ran up and put a gun to the woman¡¯s head. *Click!* ¡°Gimme your purse, bitch!¡± ¡°Of course dear, here you go!¡± She readily handed him the bag, and as soon as he grabbed the handle, it launched a dart into his throat. ¡°Huk!¡± He tottered and swayed and fell to the ground, paralyzed. ¡°My boy¡¯s looking so big now! Look at him, he hardly fits in his carriage. Tsk tsk, we¡¯ll have to make room somehow!¡± She reached under her dress, pulled out a handsaw, and whistled a tune as she proceeded to saw the man¡¯s legs off. And then she sawed his arms off. And then she used fae magic to seal the wounds. And then she taped a pacifier to his mouth and put a bonnet on his head... Good gods! She just turned that poor innocent mugger into a potato body baby! With law enforcement like this, I feel safer already. Maybe this city isn¡¯t half bad. Hey potato body baby mugger! What do YOU hate about this city? ¡°MMMHMMGHHHH!!!MMMMMMMMMMFFFFFF!!!!¡± Awww look at him trying to talk! Aren¡¯t you just the sweetest little thing? Who¡¯s the cutest little potato body mugger? Who¡¯s da kewtest wittle thing? ¡°MMMFFFFFF!!!¡± You are! Yes you are! Yes you are! Haha. Let¡¯s ask everybody. Hey people! WHAT DO YOU HATE ABOUT THIS CITY!
A stringy looking incubus in his underwear expertly played a drum kit in a trashy apartment room. He spoke as he played. ¡°Walls are pretty thin.¡± ¡°STOP WITH ALL THE FUCKING DRUMMING!¡± ¡°...and the neighbors make too much noise, WHEN I¡¯M TRYING TO DRUM!¡± He stomped on his double bass pedals and drummed even faster.
A cute dwarv girl with plushy cheeks, a waterfall of strawberry blonde hair, and a giant backpack full of machinery fumed with anger next to a stall at a dwarven marketplace. ¡°Brun ¡®The Bargain¡¯ Coldsteel won¡¯t sell his IMPROPERLY refurbished parts at reasonable prices!¡± ¡°I¡¯m selling for ten claws!¡± ¡°And I¡¯M buying your terrible craftsmanship for four, you greedy lardass!¡±
A balding man with a long nose frowned next to piles of books. ¡°Even when the library¡¯s COMPLETELY empty, there are STILL people talking when I¡¯m trying to read.¡± Wow that¡¯s a bummer man. Biiiiiig Bummer. Mondo bummerino compadre. Haha he¡¯s mad I can see it in his nerdy old man eyes. Pfft. Who reads books am I right? Only nerds read.
A severe looking gaian woman sat on a throne overlooking a packed underground coliseum. With one hand, she held a glass of wine, with the other, she stroked a hairless dog with batlike ears that shivered as it sat on her lap. ¡°I don¡¯t hate this city so much as I hate the people.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. She side eyed her two beastmen guards and lowered her voice. ¡°If you can even call them people, honestly.¡± ... ¡°This city was fine back when the only people you saw on the streets were good, honest, gaian men and women. Now, well, at least the beastmen know their place. They¡¯re a perfect example of integration into gaian society. But the demonkin races? The elvs? They¡¯re all drifters! Or sluts! They drive down property values just by existing. The dwarves, the gnomes, the giants? Well, if I must share air with them, I must, but I won¡¯t enjoy it.¡± Her voice grew cold. ¡°But the worst race by far has got to be the roaches. Illiterate, violent, stupid, unwilling to work, prone to criminal activities, I could go on, but the truth is they¡¯re simply animals. Animals built to fight our wars. They¡¯ve fulfilled their purpose. The war is over. Why are there still roaches? As soon as peace was reached, all the males should have been put down or neutered, and the babies should¡¯ve been smothered in their cribs.¡± She paused. ¡°Or just incinerated for good measure, even as children those little shits stubbornly cling to life like ticks attached to a diseased dog.¡± Wow. That¡¯s pretty fucked up of you to say. ¡°Yes, well, if no one speaks the truth, it¡¯ll never be heard. And if no one culls the roaches, they¡¯ll infest everything.¡± She paused again. ¡°So I started this roach fight club! Get them to cull each other!¡± She gave a strained smile as the roars of the crowd suddenly increased in intensity. ¡°I thought it would be a quick solution! Is it a solution? Sure! Is it quick? Well...¡± She passed a disgusted gaze over the two shirtless men fighting to the death in the cage below. ¡°RAUUURRRRRGHH!!!¡± The first man got a firm grip on the second man¡¯s shoulders, then tore his arms off. ¡°URAAAAAAAA!!!!!¡± The second man stood there and screamed, flailing his upper body, and six circular metallic protrusions on his head whirred as they sucked in mana. And then with a Pop! His arms grew right back. ¡°RAUUURRRRRGHH!!!¡± And the first man ripped them off again. ¡°STOP RIPPING OFF HIS ARMS YOU KNOW THEY¡¯RE GONNA GROW BACK!¡± The woman on the throne shrieked, her wine spilled everywhere, and the dog on her lap shivered even more violently. ¡°URAAAAAAAA!!!!!¡± ¡°GO FOR HIS HEAD! BREAK THE PROCESSES ON HIS HEAD YOU FILTHY IDIOT!¡± ¡°RAUUURRRRRGHH!!!¡± ¡°No the processes, the, tch... Aisssshhhh...¡± ¡°URAAAAAAAA!!!!!¡±
Two teenagers, a fiend and a roach, squatted in the sewers next to a ladder that lead up to the streets. ¡°Running water would be nice.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± They spoke in unison. ¡°Could wash the stink off of Tanner.¡± ¡°Could hose the stench off Ash.¡± ¡°Eyyyyyy!¡± They laughed and pointed at each other. ¡°Ay, kocchi muite, pendejos!¡± A gaian girl with a long pelt of white hair slid down the ladder, landed next to the two boys, and held out a very familiar looking long black gun. ¡°Check out the sweet loot!¡± ¡°Uwaa, daebak.¡± ¡°Some sort of mana gun, huh?¡± ¡°Dunno.¡± She pretend cocked the bolt action black hole launcher as if it were a pump action shotgun and pointed it at Ash. The fiend boy casually raised his hands. ¡°All I know is that it¡¯s mine now! Bam! You¡¯re dead!¡± You¡¯d all be dead, that thing¡¯s more dangerous than a RPG. Just sayin. ¡°Oh no shit?¡± she grinned. ¡°Sweeeeet.¡±
A wolf beastman in a long black coat fitted an arrow onto a complicated looking crossbow, turned a crank to draw it, turned another crank to pull the whole mechanism down into a spring loaded magazine, then fitted a new arrow to start the process all over again. He sighed. ¡°Repeating crossbows are irritating to reload.¡± Isn¡¯t that just like a, in general sort of deal? He shrugged.
A willowy gaian girl in a chef¡¯s uniform stood in an expansive kitchen. Her two long braids wobbled back and forth as she rapidly chopped vegetables. ¡°The lady I work for forces me to make four-course meals at 5 star restaurant quality for a tank of piranhas that rolls around on tank treads that she calls Mr. Bitey.¡± ...Excuse me? She continued chopping with a pained look. ¡°Did I fricking stutter?¡±
A conflicted looking man in a suit and bunny slippers ate a sandwich at a large marble table across from a tall, stiff woman with a frozen expression. ¡°When mum died, pap had her stuffed, and he just leaves her sitting at her seat at the dinner table. Now I can¡¯t snack alone comfortably.¡± Alone? Hah. You¡¯re not alone, my guy! MOTHER¡¯S WATCHING. SHE¡¯S ALWAYS WATCHING.
A ditsy looking fae man wearing a white blindfold squatted behind a pillar in an abandoned building as six men with machine guns pumped bullets into the concrete. He sprinkled some powder into a leaf, rolled a joint, put it to his lips and lit it. He spoke lazily as he puffed. ¡°Man there¡¯s just too much violence in this city! This used to be the realm of wine! I came here to get wasted man, not to get wasted! You feel?¡± He flitted his wings once and vanished, before re appearing behind his aggressors, leaf joint between his lips, silver pistol in hand. He fanned the hammer. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Six heads exploded. I feel that, bruv.
A gaian woman with a shaved head sat at a desk, checking her phone. She was clothed from head to toe in black leather, chains, and spikes. With exasperation, she threw her phone down onto the table and picked up a fork. ¡°My frogman mercenaries STILL haven¡¯t completed the one assignment I gave them. She took a single bite of the food in front of her, scowled, and spit it back out. ¡°And my cook STILL keeps over seasoning the meat. Does she seriously expect Mr. Bitey to eat this slop?¡± She threw the plate on the floor and it shattered, spilling the meticulously prepared food all over the place. A glass fish tank on tank treads rolled up to the mess and the piranhas within it thrashed as they tried to eat the slop.
A huge lizard beastman sat in front of an even larger painting of a landscape. ¡°I used to rob banks. Now there ain¡¯t any banks no more. So I picked up painting.¡± How¡¯s that working for you? ¡°It makes me feel tranquil, yet vulnerable.¡± he paused. ¡°I hate it.¡±
¡°But honestly, if there was one thing that I really hated in this city...¡±
¡°The real problem with this city though...¡±
¡°Everyone would probably agree that the thing they hate most in this city...¡±
¡°Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE. Hates...¡±
¡°Doghead.¡±
¡°It¡¯s gotta be Doghead.¡±
¡°Damn Doghead gang.¡±
¡°Doghead gang stole my dog!¡±
¡°Holliday Glass, that little roach SKANK!¡±
¡°Yeah, Doghead is the worst.¡±
¡°Mr. Bitey is terrifying, but Doghead is more terrifying.¡±
¡°Doghead, Doghead, DOGHEAD!¡±
Wow, seems like we have a consensus, the city unanimously hates... Holliday Glass. Almost everyone: ¡°What?? No! Were you even listening?¡± The woman on the throne in the fight club: ¡°Hah! I knew it wasn¡¯t just me!¡± The dwarv girl in the marketplace and the cook girl in the kitchen: ¡°What? Holly¡¯s great!¡± The girl in the sewers with the white hair and the gun: ¡°Bitch, the fuck you say about Holly?¡± Yeah I was kidding. What is this Doghead gang that everyone keeps talking about anyways? Y¡¯all just racist against dog beastmen or something?
A dog beastman janitor looked up from his work, mopping up a plate of food that had been thrown on the floor. ¡°Um, I mean that¡¯s a common misconception, I actually don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve seen a single beastman of any type riding with the Doghead gang. They¡¯re mostly gaians, fiends, and succubi.¡± He continued mopping with a thoughtful look on his yorkshire terrier face. ¡°Actually I think I saw a roach girl with them too.¡± Huh. Well if everybody hates them so much, why don¡¯t you all do something about it? 3. Literally just a guy with narcolepsy that they dressed up like a samurai The girl in the kitchen made a strange face. ¡°You must be new around here, huh?¡± Yeah I think I¡¯ve been alive for about an hour? ¡°Oh wow your pronunciation of common is very, very good for only an hour of practice.¡± Kamsa, mademoiselle. ¡°Dou itashimashite.¡± What¡¯s your name anyway, cook girl? I probably shouldn¡¯t just keep calling you cook girl. ¡°I¡¯m Shully. What¡¯s your name, disembodied voice?¡± That¡¯s it, you got it. You can call me D.V. for short. Shully giggled. How could you tell I was new to the Shallows, though?
In a quiet alleyway close to the center of the city, a manhole cover rattled before it was shifted aside from underneath, and that white haired girl poked her head out, looking smug for some reason. ¡°I¡¯m Kicks! The big guy is Tanner, and the little one with the flames on his ears is Ash.¡± I didn¡¯t ask. ¡°Did I ask if you asked?¡± ...No. ¡°Then what are you saying stupid shit for, tsk, ¡®I didn¡¯t ask¡¯ tsk it¡¯s called ¡®pleased to meet you¡¯ tsk acting all important when I¡¯m trying to be nice tsk why did I even try tsk please.¡± Ash crawled out of the sewer and spoke up as Kicks grumbled. ¡°You wanted to know why no one goes against Doghead, right?¡± Sure. ¡°That¡¯s how we can tell you haven¡¯t been here very long.¡± ¡°You ever heard the phrase ¡®With absolute power comes absolute power?¡¯¡± Can¡¯t say I have. ¡°Well now you have. And now you know why people don¡¯t mess with Doghead.¡± Uh, I might need a bit more of an explanation. Tanner poked his head out of the hole. ¡°Their leader¡¯s a godsdamn madman, man.¡± He¡¯s that strong? Or is everyone else too weak?
Shully pulled a pan of cookies out of the oven, set it down, and wiped her brow. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like there aren¡¯t other strong people.¡± Like who? ¡°My boss, Adeline Ivy,¡± she scrunched her face up at the name. ¡°for one. And then the other would be...¡±
The man in the suit and bunny slippers spoke with a mouth full of sandwich. ¡°My pap!¡± Who¡¯s your pap, big man? ¡°Bide Butler. Head of Butler Inc.¡± Oh you guys run a corporation? What do you incorporate? ¡°Uhh...¡± Are you a shareholder? How much did you pay in taxes last year? ¡°Um.¡± Alright good talking with ya man, stay safe.
¡°And I guess Cross, Pomme Franz, the Blackfoot twins, and Colt Weyer (screw that guy though) all count as pretty strong groups as well.¡± Tanner rattled off some names as the trio walked down an alleyway. Kicks cut in. ¡°But Kaiser Doghead is next level.¡± And Ash followed up. ¡°Yeah, even Vortex Style Tanner can¡¯t beat him.¡± Vortex style? ¡°VOoooooOoooorteeeeEEExxx styyyylleeeee!!!¡± Kicks spun her head around rapidly, whipping Tanner in the face multiple times with her hair. Ash burst out laughing, while Tanner pulled a face and stared off into the distance pointedly. ¡°Hey, hey Tanner, is this vortex style? Am I doing it?¡± Kicks windmilled her arms and spun in circles. ¡°Tanner, watch me, watch me! VoooooOoOOOrtexxxxx!!!¡± Ash flapped his arms like a chicken and puffed out his cheeks. Kicks raised a leg and farted. She wafted the fart towards Tanner. ¡°Tanner are these the vortexes? Did I do it right?¡± ¡°I hate you guys.¡± Ash and Kicks laughed even harder. ¡°VooooOOOOOoooortexxx Styllllleee!!!!¡± ...What the hell is vortex style I don¡¯t get it.
Shully sat on a stool in the kitchen, holding an apple. ¡°Um, It¡¯s not just the leader of Doghead that¡¯s the problem though.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. She bit into the apple and savored the flavor for a moment, then continued speaking. ¡°He¡¯s got four canines. That¡¯s what he calls his officers.¡± They¡¯re really leaning in on that dog theme, huh? ¡°They really are.¡± She nodded sagely and took another bite of the apple.
In a smoky bowling alley on the north end of the city, a wolf beastman pulled up a finely crafted slideshow on his phone. A group of wolf beastmen with repeating crossbows squinted and leaned forwards as they tried to see the tiny pictures from their seats. ¡°The first canine, and our first target: Bliss the succubus. She¡¯s easy to distinguish from any other succubus, cause she¡¯s green instead of pink or purple. And instead of aphrodisiac, she salivates poison. Her tail is strong enough to bind and strangle a man to death, and on top of that, I hear she¡¯s a powerful mage. Don¡¯t want to mess with this one.¡± ¡°Is she green because of the poison, or is she poisonous cause she¡¯s green?¡± Someone asked. ¡°No she¡¯s just an albino.¡± Someone else answered. Albino succubi are green? You for sure just pulled that out of your ass. ¡°Eh, it sounds fake enough to be true.¡± Haha. I¡¯m stealing that phrase. ¡°The second canine: Owen. Big fiend guy! Owen¡¯s hard to read. He always seems relaxed and comfortable, and then he strikes! Also it¡¯s said that he can tell when people are lying somehow. No one¡¯s ever seen him use his fiendfire, so no one knows the full extent of what he¡¯s capable of. A real wild card.¡± ¡°The third canine: Carmory. He¡¯s an elv, he wears these weird colorful robes, he¡¯s got two swords, and that¡¯s all I know about him. I¡¯ve never seen him do anything, actually. He¡¯s always asleep. I hear he¡¯s a real nutjob though, and people say he only wakes up when he finds someone he wants to fight. Or kill. Or both. Usually both.¡± Or maybe he¡¯s literally just a guy with narcolepsy that they dressed up like a samurai. ¡°Or maybe he¡¯s just a guy with narcolepsy that they dressed up like a samurai.¡± The group of wolf beastmen all nodded in agreement. ¡°And of course the fourth, and most notorious canine: Gax. Everyone in the Shallows knows this guy. He¡¯s got a bad temper, he dresses sharp, and I hear he¡¯s even better with a knife than he is with his tongue.¡± What does he do with his tongue? An unrelated succubus with a pink bowling ball cut in and answered. ¡°Lots of things. Want me to show you, baby?¡± Is it oral sex? Does he do oral sex with his tongue? Do you want to show me oral sex? ¡°Well... yeah.¡± Then no, I¡¯m good. Thanks though. Also, how bad do you have to be at oral sex for your partner to say ¡®Sorry honey, this just isn¡¯t doing it for me, can you bring that knife back over here?¡¯ Pfft! The whole group broke out in howling laughter. Haha gotem. Don¡¯t kinkshame, folks. ¡°Naw, I mean he¡¯s a smooth talker. Meet the man, have one conversation, and somehow you owe him your house, your car, and your wife.¡± And do you know this from personal experience or... A single tear fell from the wolf beastman¡¯s eye as he tried to keep his poker face. ¡°No!¡±
The dwarv girl at the marketplace spoke sullenly. ¡°And if the canines weren¡¯t enough, there¡¯s also the little fact that they¡¯ve got half the city mindjacked into zombie slaves.¡± Oh? The girl scowled as Brun ¡®The Bargain¡¯ Coldsteel cut in. ¡°They¡¯ve got these rings see? All the Doghead gang members. Shiny silver rings with the Doghead emblem on em, and they lights up with blue fire. And if they brand you on the side of your head with it, your body ain¡¯t yours no more.¡± Scary. ¡°They make us all pay ¡®protection fees¡¯ to live in the Shallows, and if you don¡¯t pay, can¡¯t pay, or if they say that you haven¡¯t paid, they brand you, or your family members as payment.¡± ¡°Yeah. Pretty much everyone has a family member or two who¡¯s been turned.¡± The dwarv girl finished his thought as she stared down at her feet. What do they do with the slaves? I haven¡¯t seen any mindjacked people on the streets, or at least I don¡¯t think I have.
The half naked drumming incubus in the tiny apartment room with the thin walls spoke up as he played a smooth beat on his drumset. ¡°No one knows! As soon as they turn, they walk into the Doghead tower, and they never come out.¡± Doghead tower? Which one is that? The half naked drumming incubus¡¯s neighbor¡¯s voice came through the wall: ¡°Durrr I dunno, lad, which fucking tower do you think?¡± Wow that¡¯s fucking rude man, wha-oh there¡¯s a tower with a giant fucking dog head symbol on it I see. So that¡¯s where Kaiser Doghead does all his dirty is it? ¡°Kais... the hell is that?¡± What, that¡¯s not... of course that isn¡¯t his name. What¡¯s his name? ¡°His name¡¯s-¡±
At the center of the Shallows, a tall, tall skyscraper emblazoned with a giant blue dog head symbol stood, oppressive and mighty. Within a dark room that crowned the peak of that skyscraper, an old phone rang one last time, a call went to voicemail, and the deep, sonorous voice of a powerful man flowed forth, crashed against the walls and pounded against the glass. The first name that that man spoke was: ¡°Rathbone! How ya doin, buddy? It''s your old pal, Bide. You still cooped up in your little skyscraper, playing like you''re a king, looking down on all those shitstains in the slums? Hah. You may not have heard. I''ve put those days behind me. Or, should I say, below me. You know what waking up every morning in a 7.5 trillion claw skyship is like? Of course you don''t. I''ll tell ya: It''s like walking on air.¡± ¡°This morning though, I must say I¡¯m a bit disappointed. You see right now, I¡¯m standing deep in the center of my ship, the Noblesse, past tens of armored steel doors thicker than my lady¡¯s ass, locked by ciphers too complicated for their creators to comprehend, that I and only I know the keys to. Tens of armored steel doors, each trained upon by a slew of automated high calibre weapons promising a multitude of colorful manners of death to any trespassers who dare tread.¡± ¡°And at the end of this gauntlet, a vault filled with riches you couldn¡¯t begin to imagine, much less hope to obtain. Now I am currently standing within said vault, staring at the space that my half of the Odd Atlas, map to all realms, key to the treasure trove of the master thief Ochime Odd... used to occupy. Stolen! Haha. Without a single alarm triggered, a single weapon fired, a single mote of dust displaced! If it wasn¡¯t for a whim of mine to lead me to go and inspect my treasures this mornin¡¯, I¡¯d have never guessed anything was amiss. Truly the work of an exemplary and detestable thief, that¡¯s for certain, and a strangely particular thief at that; not a bill, coin, gem, nor tome was touched, apart from that map.¡± ¡°Now don¡¯t be mistaken. That half of the atlas? I could care less about it. It''s a little thing for little people, fools intent on squandering their lives away scrabbling for riches they don¡¯t deserve. But I kept it, cause keeping you from getting the other half you needed kept a giddy little smile on my face at all hours of the day and into the wee hours of the night. Waking up this morning to find my simple source of joy stolen however, has put the two of us at an impasse.¡± ¡°Rathbone. Buddy! You know that I know you''re the only one who would go out of their way to fuck with me. And I know that you know that doing so would be suicidal, right? So I truly must ask: you doin¡¯ alright? Has the absence of skylight finally awakened your desire to die? Is your sense of self-preservation well and intact?¡± ¡°Cause the gods know I do try, but I truly can¡¯t help the little voice inside me that just wants to scream out: WHERE¡¯S MY MAP MOTHERFUCKER!? WHERE IS IT! YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL FROM ME? YOU¡¯RE DEAD YOU HEAR ME? DEAD! I¡¯M GONNA RIP OPEN YOUR STOMACH, AND HANG YOU, BY YOUR OWN GODSDAMNED GUTS!¡± His furious voice shook the heavy oaken table and put fine, fine, spiderweb fractures in the thick glass windows. He breathed hard through the receiver, and slowly retained his composure. ¡°But I must control that anger, restrain that impulse, because with knowledge, comes understanding. And I know the source of this misunderstanding, the source of the foolish, petty, and misguided thoughts that led you to attempt to slight your betters! This is naught but a cry for attention. You miss me! I guess if you beat a dog daily then leave it to die it starts to whine for the whip. I really must¡¯ve been up in the heavens for far too long cause you¡¯re asking for a beating, Rathbone.¡± ¡°And how can I turn down an old friend? So here''s what I''m gonna do: I''m gonna kill you. I''m gonna kill everyone who works for you. I''m gonna take both halves of my treasure map off your cold corpse, and by the time my boys have tracked down that cache, I''ll have forgotten all about you.¡± ¡°Is what you wanted to hear, right? Haha. I¡¯m a busy man who hasn¡¯t the time to personally entertain the temper tantrums of any random fool off the street. My boys¡¯ll drop by to take your life and your map. Wipe all traces of your presence off of said map. After leveling your pathetic skyscraper, I may even be gracious enough to consider turnin it into something nice for the kids. A park! Or a library. Drug counseling center! For now, I have business to attend to. Festivities won¡¯t enjoy themselves, now will they?¡± ¡°Hope you and yours can enjoy the holidays, Rathbone.¡± ¡°Yours truly, Bide Butler.¡± *click* The message ended, and the room was silent once more.