Haven's Addiction
Chapter 12: New Friends in Low Places

With the poster child for mad cow disease bearing down on me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would piss myself before he smashed me to a pulp. But why should I be so worried? I had an arsenal at my disposal that would make Rambo jealous. I could certainly blow this guy away without any problem. One look around the room reminded me why that would be a bad idea. A tavern full of degenerates were looking at me waiting for a fight. They might not back down if I took on the charging bull and lived. I could take them all on if I had to, but highly doubted if I could get them all before I was overrun. The firearms would be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands, and I was in a roomful of hands who would be more than ready to snatch them from me at the earliest opportunity.

Then something struck me that would have been completely unbelievable had I not been there at the time. Everyone moved away because they feared this man/cow, yet something was wrong with the way he walked. His steps were too forceful on the ground. His expression of anger was over the top. His threatening movements were forced. If I was wrong about my judgment of this, which was possible considering that his species was completely alien to me, then I would be dead. While the cow/man was naturally fearsome, a lot of it was an act. He was the alpha male in a room ruled by intimidation. He needed to be overly intimidating so that his leadership wouldn’t be questioned. Negotiating would not be an option.

I wasn’t about to be squished into bull-paste, and the place was too crowded for me to make a run for it. All the onlookers made a nice neat circle around us so they could all get a good view of the carnage without getting any blood on themselves. I was going to have to put on an alpha male performance of my own that surpassed his if I wanted to leave the building intact.

I whipped out the shotgun. I was amazed at how quickly I drew the weapon in the real world, but could feel hesitations pulling against me. I shot at and killed numerous simulated creatures, but not once had I ever pointed a weapon at a living being. I knew as soon as I drew it that I would have hesitations about shooting at a living creature, even if it was stampeding towards me. So I went with a different tactic.

I aimed the shotgun slightly to the right at one of the overturned chairs, reached underneath the barrel to remove the silencing magnet, and fired. The flimsy chair exploded in a burst of splinters with the thunderous roar of the shotgun. With just a bit of a telekinetic push, I made certain that the chair blew apart into hundreds of little pieces. I couldn’t hear the gasps of astonishment from the other patrons over the ringing in my ears, but could see their eyes widen in shock and awe.

The man/cow didn’t falter in his charge, at least not until I aimed the barrel of the shotgun directly at him. This time he came to a sudden stop. I didn’t think it was possible, but his scowl turned even angrier. We stood there at a standoff with nobody flinching.

“I’ve got no beef with you,” I declared as confidant and authoritatively as I could, too nervous to realize the unintentional pun. “So back the fuck off.”

He stood there staring me down, not moving a muscle. Not blinking, not saying anything, not even moving his eyes. We both stood in a staring match with the whole tavern watching. I put complete faith that my intimidating ruse would work. The best way to deal with a big strong bully quickly was to make them think you were bigger and stronger. In my nervousness I neglected to eject the spent shotgun shell from the chamber. Fortunately, he didn’t know that. Although, if he continued to rush me I might not get the gun ready in time.

Then my spidey-sense started tingling. It was a sort of danger sense linked to Psionics that came up when I trained in the Danger Room. It didn’t tell me exactly detail the threat for me, just that something was wrong. I didn’t dare look away, or be mauled by Mayer McCheese. I maintained eye contact and reached out with my Sense. I could feel everyone around me in the room. There was a lot of darkness emanating from the tavern. There were energies of fear, apprehension, greed, anger, despair, and various others that I didn’t fully understand. Everyone remained completely motionless, transfixed on our showdown. All except for two people, one on each side of me, in the crowd.

The malicious intent they exuded was unmistakable. Each of them carried a weapon. The one on the left a sword, the one to the right a sort of whip. The one with the whip intended to snag the shotgun, yanking it out of my hand while the other would simultaneously attack from the left side a moment after. If that didn’t finish me off, I would be easily squished by the Beefanator waiting to pounce as soon as the shotgun left my grasp. I couldn’t explain how exactly I knew this was their intended course of action, just that its what my Sense directed me to. And from my experiences with it so far in the Danger Room, it had never been wrong. I wasn’t about to give them the chance.

I waited patiently for any moment to strike, staring down my initial opponent while reaching out my Sense towards the other two, waiting for them to make their move. I couldn’t afford any mistakes. I bode my time patiently with a plan in mind. I was confident in what I had to do.

I kept my Sense wide open. It was exhausting to do, but my survival depended on it. Time came to a crawl as I could sense everything that went on around me. As soon as the guy to my right raised back the whip to lash out and brought it forward to grasp the shotgun, I let it drop to the ground, brought my hands to my sides, and released the pistols from the bracelets to appear to each hand.

As I fired the first two shots to each person that hit their mark, the whip cracked in front of me where the barrel of the shotgun was moments before, and the man to my left lunged with his sword. Both potential assailants didn’t even hit the ground before I had both pistols trained on Cow Man.

His look of astonishment was quite amazing. He already had both hands on the handle of the massive battle-ax strapped to his back, ready to bring it down on me, slicing me in half. We remained at another standoff with each of our weapons at the ready. The two on either side of me whimpered in pain. The movies really did have it all wrong on how quickly the bad guys died when you shot them. I knew I had the upper hand, I was just waiting on him to realize it. After weighing all his options, he came to the conclusion that I would be much quicker than him.

He settled the ax back down on his back. Then he bellowed out an uproarious laughter that echoed throughout the room. I still wasn’t sure that I was in the clear yet, and kept the pistols trained on him. I was pretty sure that, with the mass of his bulk, he could still slice me in half with his ax before my pistols caused enough damage to be lethal to him. Once again, he didn’t know this, but if my confidence faltered for a moment he would recognize my bluff and call me out on it with force.

“You’ve got stones kid,” he belted out in his deep gravelly voice that didn’t sound remotely human. “You’re either powerful or crazy for using Carnivex weapons. Either way I’m not going to harm with you.”

I relaxed a little, still uneasy. I dispersed the pistols and picked the shotgun up off the ground. I used my telekinesis to lift it up off the ground where I could easily grasp it for the don’t-mess-with-me effect. I could have just as easily summoned it back to the bracelet from where it lay, but I still felt the need to display the alpha role. Once I put the shotgun away, the crowd dispersed and went back to their regular activities as if nothing happened. The two injured men were drug away to be healed or tossed in a ditch. I wasn’t sure which, and didn’t really care. They tried to kill me, and I had surprisingly little sympathy for them.

Most amazing of all, I wasn’t kicked out of the tavern. Instead I was invited to Ferdinand the Bull’s private room to talk in the back of the Cracked Mug, which I obligingly accepted. It turns out that when he said I was in his seat he wasn’t kidding. He owned the Cracked Mug, and many other properties in town. The interior of his private quarters were very extravagant, blowing the old west motif right out of the water, at least in this confined area.

What struck me immediately about his office was its cleanliness. No dirt could be found anywhere in the place, as if magical fairies kept the place perfectly tidy; and probably did for all I knew. Unlike the rest of Basin City, his private quarters were immaculate. Best of all was the smell, or lack of it. The entire room smelled like a grove of flowers, a comforting change from the rancid stench outside. All of the furniture in the room was lavish with thick plush chairs, a massive ornately carved desk, shelves with glass cases displaying various artworks, and most surprising of all, numerous bookshelves filled with books.

I plopped down in an incredibly comfortable red leather love seat, that was probably a chair for him, while we had a long discussion over a few glasses of the same kind of scotch Fenton stocked at his guest house. He poured the drink from a jeweled decanter out of a liquor cabinet behind the desk. The glass he poured for himself dwarfed the size of my tumbler by three times, but I didn’t take it to be a sign of offense. With his bulk I would have to be an idiot to enter into a drinking contest against him.

“A peace offering,” he said as he clinked his glass against mine. He swallowed the contents of his glass down in one gulp with enough alcohol in it to render me unconscious, and looked at me expectantly. I nodded in acknowledgment and drank it down, savoring the burn down my throat. It burned hotter than anything I’d ever consumed before, but wasn’t about to show weakness in cringing from it in front of him.

I was no expert on the various customs of Haven, but knew that his offer of the drink was a sign of good faith. I recognized the bottle he poured from as a Decanter of Good Faith from books I read in the library. Any drinks shared from that bottle created a sort of enchanted peace treaty between all participating parties. Once shared, we would be physically incapable of harming each other for a period of time. If anyone broke the treaty, the enchantment would instantly turn the liquid in the offending person’s stomach into a deadly poison. To decline the drink would have been seen as an insult, and we would have been back to square one in a fight to the death.

I looked deep into his eyes as I replaced the glass on his desk and saw a bright spotlight of intelligence lurking in there. I realized that he was testing me, to see if I knew what the decanter did, and if I would be willing to go along with it. It wasn’t until after After I returned the glass the he finally spoke.

Seeing the recognition in my eyes, he let out a boisterous laugh that rattled the glass of the cases around the room. “It is nice to meet a worthy companion in this gods forsaken backwoods part of the realm. People see me and automatically think I am a big bumbling idiot,” He said in an articulate and intelligent voice that I wouldn’t have believed came from the same person if I hadn’t heard it for myself. “I am content to let them believe that. Their misconceptions will help me get the better of them. But it makes for boring conversations. I miss civility sometimes,” he trailed off recalling some long ago memory.

“Like your cohorts out there?”

“Exactly,” he grinned. “This is a lawless land. It is a wild and dangerous part of the realm where survival of the fittest effects all sentient beings as well. The fittest aren’t always the most physically strong. Your rule here by being more than anyone else. Stronger, faster, smarter, tougher, feared, respected, or revered. Anyone who tries to be more than you needs to be brought down.”

“Is that what you plan do to do with me?” I worried, preparing myself to draw my weapons again, this time going with the heavy hitting assault rifle, despite the potential for side effects from the Decanter of Good Faith.

“That depends. Everything here relies on perception. If they perceive that you are stronger than me they will side with you and I won’t have long to live. Or they will see me as too weak and try to destroy me themselves.”

Ferdinand was in charge here after all. Not just the Cracked Mug, but of all Basin City and the surrounding area. He ruled under the law of ‘might is right’. As long as everyone here thought he was the most badass of the bad, he could continue to rule without any trouble.

“You see, the foolish are those who don’t know when to back down from a fight. You can’t win them all, but you can negotiate so that your losses are perceived victorious to others.”

“You know,” I grinned, “you aren’t anything like what I expected.”

“Thank you. You have no idea the amount of effort it takes to keep up appearances.”

“So, what do you propose?” I asked curiously.

“You leave town with each other in good graces.”

“We agree to be allies?” I thought about it, “or at least perceived allies.”

He nodded in response, as well as his giant head could nod. “As it stands between us there is no resolution. I may still be able to best you. That would result in either your death or mine for making a foolish mistake. I am no fool. You obviously have no interest in my immediate death. As allies…”

“Perceived allies,” I interjected.

“Yes. Currently you seem to be the more powerful one. If you leave here as my ally in the eyes of the masses, my power base is even greater.”

“No one would dare mess with you or risk facing my wrath,” I mused.

“Exactly. You leave with your reputation intact, and no one else knows how inexperienced you truly are.”

“How did…” I started, but didn’t bother. “So, I leave you with the undisputed reputation of king badass. I walk away with the reputation of being a badass. Everyone is happy. Well, except for the two I shot.”

“They’re just lackeys,” he chuckled with a really creepy deep laugh that made me shiver. “They are pawns that are out of our league. It works just so long as you never return to Basin City.”

“Not a problem. I was just passing through anyway.”

He grinned even wider, which was especially creepy, as if he expected that response. His intelligence definitely surpassed what his gruff persona revealed. He really did remind me of the book about Ferdinand the bull who was forced to fight in the bull ring, when he was really a pacifist at heart. I could easily see him fitting in as the head of a major company, and couldn’t help but wonder about the circumstances that led to him hiding out in the outskirts of civilization.

“You will be a legend in Basin City, my friend. I will see to that. Now that we are in agreement, I have one request.”

Here it comes, I thought to myself. The catch. I knew I wouldn’t getting away too easily, but wasn’t about to walk away empty handed. “Go ahead. I have a request of my own.”

“How did you come across those weapons of yours?”

“I got them from my brother in law. Now my turn. What did you mean by the Carnivex weapons? What are they?”

“More like Who are they. Nasty creatures. Shapeshifters. Thoroughly evil bastages too.” He spit on the ground at the mere mention of them. “The most conniving you can ever find. They are so good at subversive tactics that they have convinced most of the realm they do not exist. The stories of these demons are so frightening that even the people of this realm refuse to accept them. It’s easier to be ignorant for most people. I know better.”

This was an interesting development. These Carnivex seemed to have technology like mine, which may help me bridge the gap towards the Graxis. Maybe this was the real reason for my being sent in this direction.

“What do you know of these Carnivex?” I asked him.

“More than most. How much is it worth to you?”

“Depends on the value of the information,” the business negotiator in me shone through.

“I will provide you with what I know. If you find it to your liking, then pay me with one of your weapons with instructions on how to use it.”

I thought it over. The intel could be invaluable, and I had a few extra pistols. Drognaus wouldn’t approve of handing one over to this thug, but it was my world at stake, not his. With only one clip of ammunition it wouldn’t get him very far. Besides, I planned on using extra weapons or technology as bargaining tools at some point in Haven anyway. So I agreed.

“Swear by your magic.”

He really was a sneaky bastard. He was testing me. During my magical training I remembered a discussion about how Mages make a promise. Psionics can do it too. Making a promise in Haven was a serious deal. Putting magical or psionic energy into that promise made it into an unbreakable bond. By making the deal and adding energy to it makes it truly binding, much like the Decanter of Good Faith. If the deal was broken by either person that energy would backlash, putting a world of hurt on you, potentially resulting in death.

If I wasn’t able to make a magically binding deal, then I don’t have any magic abilities. Fortunately Erik taught me how to foster what little magical energy I managed to channel into making a deal. He felt it would be useful in negotiations. Ferdinand seemed surprise that I agreed and was able to contract the deal. The fact that I displayed Psionic ability when I retrieved the shotgun, combined with joining in a magical bond, made me especially unique. If I knew how to create the bond Psionically, I would have preferred it, and made a mental note to ask Lord Djedous about that the next time I saw him.

Once the bond was complete he went over to a display case where a ten inch long metallic wand stood on display, resting on a custom made stand. He removed it from the case and handed it to me.

“This is a Carnivex weapon. All Carnivex carry this in one form or another. These are the smallest. I have seen some that were the length of an ax handle, others the full length of a staff, and they have even been incorporated into other weapons or items. Each one that I have encountered has been unique. I believe that each one is specially made for its owner.”

I looked it over carefully, turning it over in my hands. It was surprisingly lightweight. It was obviously crafted from metal, but the weight of it felt more like wood. There were ornate designs imprinted into the metal running all along it like the runes used in magical items I’d seen. One end of the device was hollow, with a hole bored into it about the size of one of my pistol barrels. The hole didn’t go all the way through, and I couldn’t tell far how deep inside it went. While the outside was ornately designed, the inside was smooth, much like the barrel of one of my guns. I could see now why he confused my firearms for Carnivex weapons

“What does it do?” I inquired, not taking my eyes off of it.

“When the Carnivex use the device a ball of fire shoots out the end of it incinerating whatever gets in its path.”

“How does it work?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” he shrugged his massive shoulders. “The Carnivex are the only ones who know their secret, and they have never told.”

“What about the one you got this one from?”

“You’re sitting on him,” he indicated to my chair, “and several of his comrades.”

It took me a moment to realize what sort of leather the comfy chair was made from. Although I had never met the species, and his account seemed pretty genuine about how nasty of a creature they were, the fact that I sat on furniture made from the skin of an intelligent life form really bothered me.

“They are carefully trained. No amount of torture will ever get them to reveal any secrets, even to the point of death. Don’t feel sorry for them. I only made them into something to rest my ass on to spite them. Nasty abominations.”

The fact that they were being referred to as abominations by a humanoid shaped cow struck me as funny, yet a testament to how horrid they really were.

“Besides, their hide is immune to fire, so I can smoke my cigars on it without risk of marring the finish.”

I looked over the Carnivex weapon more thoroughly. I held it like a magic wand and tried waving it around shouting “Abracadabra” and “Ala Peanut Butter Sandwiches”, but nothing happened.

“I have never seen a Carnivex use verbal components of any kind. I have had it studied by mages who all attest that it is not magically enchanted. Besides, I have seen them fire it in zones where magical energies were nullified.”

I recognized the runes covering the weapon as those used to create magical items. That’s why it hit me. It was a ruse. The runes were probably completely baffling to anyone who knows how magical items work because it wasn’t really magical. Yet wizards inspecting it would continue to look for how the magic worked; so intently that they wouldn’t even suspect that it wasn’t magic at all. If they gave the diagnosis that is wasn’t magical, anyone who saw the weapon in use wouldn’t believe them.

This really peaked my interest. It wasn’t magical by any means, which meant that it must be technological, and whoever created it went to great lengths to conceal that. While waving it around a little more I felt that one of the decorative nubs on the device was loose. On closer examination I could tell that it could be depressed like a button. I carefully examined the device all over to find four more buttons just like it, incorporated into the ornate design. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

If the buttons were the triggering mechanism, there must have been some sequence depressed in just the right order to make the weapon fire. Upon closer examination it appeared that the ornate grooves made the weapon form fitting to the hand. If each weapon was created for a specific Carnivex, then this one was made to perfectly fit the hand of the previous owner. The hand grooves didn’t fit me very smoothly. Apparently the Carnivex before me had very long slender fingers. I needed to use fingers from both hands in combination to wrap around the device properly in order to push all the buttons at once.

I doubted it would be a pass code that needed to be entered in sequence to be a truly effective weapon, so it must have been a specific combination of buttons that needed to be pressed at the same time. It needed to be something simple like the triggers on my guns, but with multiple triggers that needed to be pulled at the right moment. I tried several different combinations with no effect, but I didn’t want to give up. Ferdinand looked on with intent interest, seeing that I thought I was on to something. He sat silent and expectantly, observing me while waiting for results.

Then it happened without warning. The device suddenly got very warm in my hands and there was a subtle sound like the whooshing of a fire when you splash gasoline on it. I smelled something burning and looked up to see a flaming hole in Ferdinand’s desk. I didn’t even see the blast of fire come out, it was so fast. Ferdinand stared at it, eyes wide and mouth agape before the reality sunk in that his desk was on fire, and he dumped a pitcher of water over the flames to put it out.

We took a look at the desk together and marveled at the inch deep scoring that now marred the wood. The fire didn’t last very long, so it was the initial impact of the blast that did the most extensive damage. If that had been a person, it would have been a lethal shot.

“Can you do it again?” He inquired like little kid who had just seen their first fireworks show, anxious for more.

“I can try.” I aimed the weapon at the desk again recalling the most recent sequence I attempted. “Wait,” he called out. “This is a very expensive desk. Try a new target. Come with me.”

He led me to the back of the Cracked Mug through a private hallway. The back of the building opened up into an enclosed training area. It was nothing like Castle Gold, but the targets set up did look similar to the first ones I fired at in the Danger Room. The rest of the training area was littered with humanoid dummies of various shapes and sizes made of straw or wood. There also appeared to be humanoid shaped trusses that people could be strapped to with blood stains crusted on them. I tried to ignore those.

I positioned myself about ten feet away from the largest target, hit the proper sequence, and fired. This time I saw the small red beam of fire that shot out, but didn’t see the impact of the target. The device was already warm in my hands, but when I fired it the second time it got even hotter, scalding my skin. I instantly dropped it to the ground to avoid getting burned further. My hands were reddened, but there was no permanent damage. I looked up to see that I had hit the target dead on. A gaping hole about 2 inches wide went clean through the straw target, and the rest of the target was rapidly engulfing in flames. I couldn’t help but marvel at its power, even compared to my own weapons.

“How did you do it?” He didn’t so much inquire as demand.

He wasn’t at all enthralled by the destructive power of these weapons like me. He had obviously faced them before, and from the wrong end of the barrel. I would have shown him how it was done, but I couldn’t even so much as touch the weapon again without burning myself. It seemed like a major design flaw, but If the Carnivex were immune to fire like he said, then it would make sense that this would be their weapon of choice. They could shoot with it all day long without getting hurt while ensuring that non-Carnivex couldn’t use the weapon against them even if they could figure it out. I instructed Ferdinand on what I did to activate the weapon and he grinned.

He withdrew a thick leather glove to pick up the device and followed my directions on how to activate it. Within seconds it let out another blast that hit the target square in, setting the straw into a blaze that destroyed it. The weapon itself glowed red hot at the tip. Ferdinand continued to grin like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Sneaky bastages,” he grumbled, gazing down at the weapon with a sparkle in his eye. “Our debt is settled then. I release the bond.”

“Just like that?” I was surprised, and a little disappointed.

“The information you have provided me is invaluable. Thank you my friend,” he gave me a swift pat on the back of congratulations that nearly sent me sprawling face first in the dirt. “We may well rid the realms of this Carnivex scourge yet.”

We headed back inside, leaving the target to smolder and burn. It was kind of emasculating to think that he was more interested in the Carnivex weapons than my own. It made mine seem insignificant in comparison. I know I shouldn’t have let pride effect me so much, but I couldn’t help it. My weapons made me feel confident, like I could take on anything. I apparently had a lot left to learn before I would be ready to face the Graxis if there were weapons out there common to some species that dwarfed my own.

We returned to the main area of the Mug and shared a drink together, in plain view of the rest of the patrons, before parting ways. He set the Carnivex weapon down on the table, still hot enough to mar the surface of the wood.

“Your discovery of this will make you an even greater legend, my friend,” he gestured towards the device, “but it will also make you an instant enemy of the Carnivex. Are you prepared for that?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I grinned, and I honestly was.

“You won’t be,” he suddenly became very serious. “I make a point of being the scariest thing in this part of the realm. The Carnivex terrify me.”

The silence was awkward. I could tell that he meant it. Coming from someone as big and intimidating as him who made a career of being the toughest person around, that was one hell of an endorsement.

“They are sneaky as sneaky can be, and patient as the most venerable of dragons. They have dragon blood in them, so they are powerful spellcasters. You won’t see them coming, this I guarantee you. They are masters of disguise and deception, and can shapechange at will. I know that they will be the death of me some day because of all the effort I have put into opposing them.”

We broke up the seriousness to share a pint together, and then another. I didn’t want to go toe to toe with this guy in a drinking match because there was no way I would win. But it was nice to let loose for a while.

Eventually Gerald came in before I got too drunk, eyed me, and gestured that is was time to go. “Well, there’s my ride,” I said as I set my mug down on the table.

“You travel with them?” Ferdinand inquired.

“Yep. They don’t fully trust me, but they’ve been good to me. I don’t fully trust them either. I get the feeling they’re keeping things from me.” It surprised me how honest and open I was with him.

“Be wary. Aside from me, the clan of Gold are the greatest enemy of the Carnivex, as well as many other vile creatures I dare not speak of. Their agendas may seem noble, but they have been the cause of more death than even I could dish out. And their agendas are more important to them than anything in the world. The moment you become an inconvenience to their plans, you become a liability.”

I took his advice into consideration and left the Cracked Mug. It was certainly possible that Drognaus and his cohorts didn’t have my best interests at heart. I was fine with that. I wasn’t expecting anyone in Haven to fully have my back. I was a stranger in a very strange land. The fact that Ferdinand, a criminal and killer, was more open with me than anyone in Drognaus’s realm of friends reinforced these suspicions. That didn’t matter. I was going to travel with them anyway. They were my fast track to getting back home, and I would ride it wherever it led me, at least until a better alternative came along.

Horses were ready outside the Mug that were packed with supplies. Fortunately I had practiced some horse riding in the Danger Room. I wasn’t ready to enter the Kentucky Derby, but knew enough to get by without falling off and breaking my leg. We rode off into the sunset, on a hunt to a village that held unknown dangers.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

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