AWKWARD ZOMBIE

Zephiur shrugged, oblivious to the soldier who had come in. "Couldn't hurt, I suppose." he said, watching the die spin. He slid his goggles down over his eyes in the meantime and whiled away his time waiting by scanning through different websites and checking on stuff.

Roger stumbled out of a side street onto Mekanos' main avenue. He had gotten turned around somewhere, a common occurrence after a long night at one of the bars. Usually when this happened, he used the Grand Clockwork to reorient himself, as it was in the direct center of town and its faces pointed in each direction exactly. He made his way to the massive tower, entering the wide courtyard before long and finding the correct direction he needed to take to get home.

As he turned to continue his trek, Roger noticed a young lad seated at the base of the Grand Clockwork. Wearing colored clothing, a messenger bag, and a woodaxe, the boy looked like a true adventurer except for one small detail: he looked completely lost. As drunk as he was, Roger knew the city like the scratches on his own skin and decided he would help the poor boy find his way. After a few deep breaths, he made his way toward the lad, hoping his size and drunkenness wouldn't scare him away.

Martin noticed a large burly man head towards him. He felt a bit nervous that a man of that size would approach him. "Why is he heading towards me?" Martin thought "Is he going to rob me? I heard this place was pretty corrupt, but could someone just come up and rob me? In broad daylight?" When the man came nearer he looked like he hadn't any evil intentions but Martin couldn't be to sure.

Well, the boy wasn't running. That's a good sign, Roger thought. He stopped before he got too close, in case his appearance indeed threatened the young man. "It seems like you could use some direction," Roger said, somehow managing to not slur his words too fiercely. "I happen to know this city rather well if you need some help."

Galiena continued to watch the match until the winner was decided. Once the winner had gathered his cheddar and the loser had stomped away towards the slots, Galiena started shuffling the deck again. "Have a seat," she said. "You'll play me this time. I'm dealer this round." She dealt the cards and set up the board again. "You got a name, stranger? I'd hate to have to call you Tin Man." The corners of her mouth drew up slightly, but her eyes watched him carefully. "My name's Galiena."
The die she had spun on the table was somehow still spinning, even though she wasn't touching it anymore. It hovered along the felt top for another few seconds before finally coming to rest.

"Galiena...?" Jade leaned against the table a little more, grinning. "I thought you looked familiar." The uniform must have changed her appearance a bit according to him, though if he remembered right, she usually wore plain clothes. "But I didn't know you worked here." He swirled the soda around in his bottle and drank from it again.

Martin let down his guard a little still a bit uneasy about the man. Martin could tell the man was drunk, or drank enough to start slurring his words. "Well," Martin started "I am a bit lost. I need to find some sort of historian or someone who's studied ancient languages." He then quickly added "For a research paper I'm doing on ancient civilizations." Martin didn't want to show the book to some guy he just met.

Zephiur smirked at the dark skinned man and slid around into the seat in front of Galiena. "Name's Zephiur van Errenheit." he said, flicking up his goggles and stretching a little. "Most folks just call me Zephiur though." he cracked his neck once and tapped the panel on his arm again, causing the cashbox to jut out as he pulled a few of the larger denomination coins for betting.

Eris looked up at the sign of the casino. Something about gold, it could easily have been a coin or a saucer. But Golden Saucer just sounded silly. Still this was the place.

He headed in and was immediately set upon by a service member intent on gaining the good graces of nobility. Eris politely brushed him off, with a slight nudge of Apathy to help, and walked towards the bar. He'd read the instructions three times beforehand and burned the paper, now it was all up to memory.

Eris took a seat and tapped the counter twice quickly, once, wait a second, three times a second apart and deliberate.

The bartender ambled over, a cheerful soul hiding dark emotions. Eris could tell this man's facade was sublime. Out on the street were the guards. Inside the casino were his target's handpicked staff, with a few normals here and there to likely throw people off. Make a mistake on the premises and one could vanish without a trace. "What can I get you?" he said.

"A bottle of King's Draft, Year 1," said Eris.

The bartender shook his head. "All out."

"Do you know if you'll be getting more in?"

"Hopefully not," said the bartender, wiping the counter. Something shiny glinted as it slipped from underneath the cloth into Eris's waiting hand.

"All's good then," said Eris, placing the object in his pocket as he got up. He immediately walked to the left of the bar, where two staff members stood guard in front of a door. Eris flashed the medallion to them as he stepped through and received a curt nod.

He was in. Now the real work began.

Roger thought for a second before saying, "Hmm, historian, huh? If I remember correctly there's a historian on the cleaner side of town, near a casino." In his mind, he was more questioning. He's lying about the research paper. He looks like he just walked into town, he wouldn't have entered a mining town to do a scholar's project. Roger shrugged to himself. Ah, well. Let him have his secrets. He began making his way toward the only historian in town he knew. "Come on, lad. I'll show you to him."

The gates of this city were open to strangers, for whatever reason. A guard at the gate smiled at Maloch and let him in with a wave. Maloch slammed the guards face into the brick wall and left him to bleed to death through his eye sockets. A few pieces of the guards smile drifted away on the stream of his own blood.

Nobody watched the watchman, though. Maloch would be doing more. One of the few things left in this life that brought Maloch happiness was to terrify the barbarians before he slaughtered them. He liked to strike fear into their hearts, and kill them slowly, make them watch while their city wasted away. The city guards corpse would be discovered soon enough, but Maloch intended to begin now.

The streets were crowded. Nobody paid any attention to another man walking through, even though this man had a knife held to his wrist by a strap. They'd notice him soon enough. Maloch was already having a hard time abiding the stench of the uncivilized horde. He patiently waited in the midst of the crowd while the worms slithered past in the streets.

Someone bumped into him. That was enough for Maloch.

He drew his Screaming Blade, and the crowded activity of the streets ground to a halt. The screams of a thousand slaughtered men, women and children rang out in the city air. Some froze, some ran, some looked around for the source of the screaming. It was currently embedded in the neck of a strange man with blonde hair. From there it sought out a nearby woman, then two children trying to run, and on and on it went, cutting red gashes in any flesh it found. As it went the screams of the blade only grew louder, intensified by the suffering of the newest victims. Their agony would be stored forever in the Screaming Blade, making it deadlier with every life it took.

Once a few dozen corpses lined the streets, Maloch sheathed his Blade and left the city. They'd tell stories. The people who'd witnessed this would scatter far and wide, telling stories of the massacre. Fear would set in, and be compounded when Maloch struck again. Each subsequent massacre would fill the people with more and more terror.

The thought made Maloch smile for the first time in ten years.

"Hm?" Galiena looked at the dark-skinned man, blinking. "...Jade?" Her mouth curled into a slightly more genuine half-smile. "Haven't seen you around lately. How's life? Anything earth-shaking happening lately?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to Zephiur and laid down her first card. "One."

[DAAAAAAAAAAAAMN THAT WAS BRUTAL]
They reached the place pretty quickly. "Thanks for giving me directions. I don't think I even introduced myself. My name's Martin Hepson, I'm an explorer." Martin felt a bit a better about this guy, he didn't seem bad. Martin felt he should show the man what he really needed the historian for. "I'm not a student but I still need the historian for this." Martin pulled out the book. "I found this book outside of townin some old ruins. Hopefully the historian can decipher it. Or at the very least tell me what language it's in."

Roger looked down at the book the boy was showing him. "Yeah that looks like some scribble I'd never understand," he said with a hearty laugh. "And in case you're wondering, I'm Roger Barrett" He looked up at the bookstore they were standing in front of. Roger knew the proprietor by pure chance, having met him in a tavern recently. They discussed local culture, though the bookkeeper seemed to want to drink a problem or two away. "This here's the store of one Jacob Twopenny, he studies some of the local history." As he walked into the store, barely fitting through the door, Roger could have sworn he heard someone screaming in the distance, but dismissed it as a drunken hallucination.

Hearing the screams, Allen Tanner ran from the casino, nearly knocking over the man with the robotic arm and several others on his way out. pulling his spear, he fears he may have accidentally hit someone with the handle. Running towards the town gate, he sees the man responsible nearly 30 meters off. A man without fear, a man without doubt, and a man full of rage.

Tanner backed off, this wasn't his fight. He knew it. He would go back to the casino, apologize, and confront his suspect.