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Fiction Among the Dust - A What-If Duel between Felrix and Eli-Nesz

Discussion in 'Fluff and Stories' started by Y'ttar Scaletail, Jun 3, 2016.

  1. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    @Bowser: Well, here's my imagining of such a showdown given form in a quick write-up. Feel free to give your own interpretation! :)


    Among the Dust

    A warm wind whistled through the dusty town. The empty buildings stood as silent sentinels, watching the road and each other decay. A tatty vulture glided overhead and settled on what used to be a tavern. The bird peered down hungrily as two figures entered the town from opposite directions.

    Felrix straightened her hat and looked calmly towards the black robed and behatted Skink. Without a word she removed a cigar from her hat, bit the end off, and lit it.

    Eli-Nesz regarded the Skaven coldly, wishing he had brought some kind of distraction or sharpshooter. Never mind. I cannot afford to be delayed; else Ti’Rakz’s trail will go cold.

    Both continued their march towards each other whilst more circling vultures joined their brother atop the tavern. The wind sighed once more and then was stilled.

    The Skaven and the Skink halted and eyed each other warily. Time seemed to crawl along as even the sun appeared to stop in the sky to watch this showdown.

    There was a blur and two shots rang out.

    Eli-Nesz grinned until he felt his prized hat spiral from his head to land in the dust. Felrix likewise felt her own hat snatched away by the Skink’s bullet.

    Two hats sat in the dust.

    Their owners stood for a time, the wind having given up its song. The Skaven opened her mouth as if to say something but Eli-Nesz fired first, unloading his chambers into the Skaven’s body. Felrix fell backwards and did not move.

    Eli-Nesz smiled and holstered his pistol.

    “Now that was rude” hissed Felrix, leaping up and firing at the Skink. Only Eli-Nesz’s quick reflexes saved him as he darted behind a decaying water barrel, fortunately only his tail nicked by a bullet. He snarled and returned fire, Felrix darting behind an overturned water trough.

    Eli-Nesz muttered and withdrew a small metallic egg. He primed it and threw it towards where the Skaven was hiding, before ducking back down. The grenade bounced once and landed by the trough. However, one of the vultures instead swooped down and grabbed the shiny device before exploding in mid-air. Eli-Nesz cursed as he watched feathers and half-digested carrion fall back to the ground.

    Wanting to end this, both he and the Skaven leapt from their cover and opened fire.

    Click. Click. Click. Click.

    The two stared at their empty weapons in mute surprise.

    Felrix took a deep drag of her cigar and tossed it to the dusty ground. She withdrew a silver edged coin.

    “Heads or Tails?”

    Fin
     
  2. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    Brilliant! I had also started working on something, so it will be sometime this weekend!
     
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  3. Killer Angel
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    Killer Angel Well-Known Member

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    Poor vulture. ..

    Wait! Was it a Tomb Kings Carrion? The vanguard of a small invading force, that wants to take control of lost gold mines for the glory of Khemri?
    Will our heroes forced to form a temporary alliance?
    Dun dun duunnn...
     
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  4. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    Looking forward to it! :)

    I'm sure there's no four Tomb Gunpriests of the Apocalypse coming...*Innocent whistle*
     
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  5. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    Hmmm...
    I would think:
    Khorne- War
    Nurgle- Pestilence
    Great Horned Rat- Famine
    Nagash- death
    But if you wanted to scale it down
    Blood crusher
    Plague drone
    Warlord on brood horror
    Royal Warsphinx

    Very easy to justify giving them guns and getting them to an O.K corral for a showdown between them and Felrix/Eli-Nesz and a few friends! Not that my story is going to follow the plotline of tombstone.... anymore!
     
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  6. Rednax
    Cold One

    Rednax Active Member

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    pew pew!
     
  7. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    Almost finished with my little crossover. A super dark and gritty retelling... nah! A lighthearted comedy with a lot of casual violence.
     
  8. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    High Noon Hijinx - An Eli-Nesz and Felrix crossover

    The saloon went quiet as the armoured Skaven kicked in the swinging doors. He posed in the doorway dramatically, his ten gallon hat tipped carefully over one eye, his billowing duster flowed in the wind. He cut a dahing, imposing figure, until the dashing figure was smacked by the doors on the back swing. He pushed the doors open and walked slowly up to a table in the center of the room.
    "Where's the sheriff? I come to tell him this town belongs to the iron hide gang now."
    "Oh you think so do ya?" The sheriff finished his beer and took his feet off the table.
    "I know so." The skaven drew his pistol.
    The sheriff drew his quicker.
    The bullet crashed into the iron armour concealed under the duster. The skaven laughed as he unloaded his chamber into he sheriffs head.
    "We are the law now. Ironfur is the law now."
    The rest of the bar went for their guns, but as they did they heard the clock of a hundred hammers being cocked. Some inside the bar in the corners and the rafters, some from outside.
    "Ya mangey varmints won't get away with this." Shouted the piano man.
    "Shut up and play, and if you reach for that gat in your piano, your fingers may just get bit."
    A pair of yellow eyes gleamed from within the piano.
    The barman poured a drink into a dirty mug and passed it to the Skaven.
    Felrix rode into town on a wolfrat thar she had secured from a downed member of the Iron hide gang. She had been tracking them for days. She couldn't recall why or how she got there. She just knew that she had a chance to kill the rat calling himself Ironfur.
    Eli-Nesz Strolled casually into town, it might be described as a mosey, but who really knows what a mosey entails?
    He had been assigned once again to tracking down Ti’Rakz. The technology priest walked down main street, the tabern was packed and noisy. Ti’Rakz would probably be there.
    Felrix spotted the skink walking towards her down the center of the road. Eli-Nesz spotted Felrix not long after.
    Felrix hitched her wolfrat to a post and called out.
    "I remember you, ya scaly varmint."
    "That was more than a lifetime ago. It's more than a little incredible to see you here." He shouted back.
    The two walked up the dusty street until they were about 50 paces from one another.
    "Time to finish what we started." Said Felrix puffing on her cigar.
    "Ah yes, this time maybe the coin won't land on it's edge, leaving us with no clear cut winner."
    "What? No I meant with our guns you fool." She had her paws readied by the twin pistols Oakley and Starr.
    "Fine let's make this quick, I think we've drawn a crowd. Friends of yours?" He said as he readied his claws for the mismatched pistols Rooster and Sundance.
    Felrix looked around. The Iron hide gang, but where was Ironfur?
    She refocused on the skink.
    The rats circles around to watch, placing their bets and readying their own guns.
    A quick flash of fur and scale and four shots rang out. Two bullets heading straight between the eyes of Eli-Nesz, two bullets heading straight between the eyes of Felrix. Somewhere a Slann blinked. Four Iron hide skaven fell down dead.
    Eli-Nesz looked at Felrix, Felrix looked back at Eli-Nesz, they nodded and both dove for cover, firing on the way down. More of the Iron hide gang fell over dead. One standing on a balcony, flew out of the balcony dramatically, letting out a wondeful Wilhelm scream before landing in the ground to die.
    Felrix and Eli-Nesz reloaded and started shooting. The townsfolk started poking their heads out their windows. Some going for their guns to help with the fire fight.
    Ti’Rakz stumbled out of a barn. He didn't recall the last few days, and mused it was probably for the best. A bullet whizzed passsd his head. He roared and grabbed a pitchfork. "You want a fight? I was literally built to fight. Let me show you." He yhrust his pitchfork through an Iron hide rat and began using the bleeding flailing rat as a hammer. "The great thing about your armour is it does so much more to your friends on impact."
    Felrix took a big puff of her cigar when she saw it. A rat in an Iron mask mounting a wolfrat.
    "Hey lizard cover me!" She shouted to Eli-Nesz.
    The technology priest obliged.
    Felrix jumped on her wolfrat and began riding after Ironfur. The few living skaven began fleeing away from Ironfur.
    Ironfur steered his mount towards a tree and grabbed a branch. He swung himself into the tree and drew his guns. They sizzled with a green energy. Like two miniature warp lightning cannons.
    Felrix leapt from her wolfrat before the sickly green lightning struck it. She drew her pistols and glared at the iron mask. Ironfur went to squeeze the triggers againbut too late. The boom of two pistols firing thundered out and the rat fell out of the tree perch, and landed with a thud.
    Eli-Nesz caught up to her. The two approached the figure before them. Felrix removed the mask. It wasn't him.
    "The real one may be long dead. Unless it is blessed by your foul god like Thanquol."
    "What do you mean?" She asked.
    "You and Iare just memories of an old age, here in a new Frontier. Let me buy you a drink and explain."
    Lord Roob turned to Lord Khan’Man.
    "You cheater."
    "The rules said three characters"
    "You can't mix order and chaos."
    "She's an orderly kind of chaos. Besides that wasn't part of the bet. Any three characters to take out this branch of the Iron hide gang. Now go on. Let down your defenses"
    Lord Roob groaned and lowered his defenses.
    "This is quite disgusting and embarrassing. I want you to know I hate you."
    Several goblins from "Da Toad Licka's" tribe jumped on to the palanquin and began licking the head of Lord Roob.
    "Look at how happy they are, besides, once they go nutty you can use them in your campaign against those bloodbound fellows over there." Said Lord Khan’Man stifling his laugh.
    "I hate you."
    Fin
     
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2016
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  9. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    Bravo, sir! Bravo! *bow*

    It's impossible to pick out a best moment, though the Slann trickery, Eli's named guns, and the return of Da Toad Licka's were brilliant! And dem name puns. *Whistle*

    I really liked how you handled the coin toss from my piece (I was secretly referencing the really old UE house rules competition entry "Fliptrik Coins" by the magnificent Sketch, who apparently was inspired to create them because of my fondness to flip coins for decisions (or how people would apparently flip them to decide between their two favourite entries.) Suffice to say, for some reason I kept winning coin tosses...so these coins were jokingly rigged. You can have a look at the archive (but pls don't necro said thread) : here.)
     
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  10. Bowser
    Slann

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    Yeah, I wasn't sure how to end it, I knew I wanted it set in AOS, to give the possibility of a Slann remembering a different type of hero, but when the toad licking goblins came up in another thread, I knew that had to be the bet. I guess the clockwork gave out in Felrix' coin!
    That coin bit is brilliant! I really liked that it was made into a legitimate playable item. But what cracked me up the most was just the image of the skaven hugging a big pile of tokens only to get exploded! Haha! So awesome!
     
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  11. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    Aye, I really liked the spin on it being clearly AoS (my version didn't directly specify, but could have happily gone either way) and all the over the top adventures that could be had.

    I also agree. The toad licking was a stroke of genius and made for a perfect ending!

    The flipsik (for some reason I always referred to it afterwards as fliptrik) coins have cropped up in a few bits of fluff Sketch and I have written over the years as a fun little reference. I recall a few of said coins actually doing that and landing the wrong side up or even on no side at all! Skaven engineering at its finest! But aye, there have been a few items like that when the House Rules compy used to run, though the coins are probably my favourite. Ah, good times.
     
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  12. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    I think "Da Toad Lickas" need to be in far more stories. The Flipsik Edplik coins as well, just so much fun!
     
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  13. spawning of Bob
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    spawning of Bob Well-Known Member

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    Write on, partners.
     
  14. Bowser
    Slann

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    Feel free to jump in and write along with us. I wouldn't mind seeing a few more takes on this one!
     
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  15. spawning of Bob
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    spawning of Bob Well-Known Member

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    I was about to respectfully decline, when I had an ide-uh. Real life takes another hammering.
     
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  16. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    I've got nothing against anyone writing their own versions or even adding their own characters.

    Who knows, we might end up with some kind of magnificent seven or so. :p
     
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  17. Bowser
    Slann

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    This is a hilarious and "magnificent" idea. I think this may have to happen!
     
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  18. Y'ttar Scaletail
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    Y'ttar Scaletail Well-Known Member

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    Especially if there's a few more other races thrown into the mix. A skellie gunslinger mayhaps? :p
     
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  19. spawning of Bob
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    spawning of Bob Well-Known Member

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    I have descended to the challenge with one or two characters who might be worth keeping alive (we need to keep this thread secret from @Scalenex). Like most things I attempt, this got somewhat out of hand. Treat it as non-canon if preferred.

    You have been warned.

    Amongst the Dust
    Chapter 3
    (or 5 if you included its bizarre origins in The Bounty and A Memory? found here.)

    An unusually tall and well dressed stranger burst through the swinging batwing doors. "Inshunes!" he said loudly over the tuneless banging of the saloon piano.

    Two shots were fired so close together that there was only one sharp report. Eli-Nesz's glyph engraved bullet ricocheted off the man's top hat with a metallic clang. Felrix's warpstone projectile did a little better. It struck and broke the fellow's belt buckle but somehow his pants did not fall down. The man looked down, then up again. He had a smoking cheroot clenched in his gold toothed smile. He threw his long black coat open, showing the secret of his obvious confidence, one on each hip. A shiny pair of suspenders. "Ash I shaid, 'Inshunes'.”

    "Aww, rat pox," grumbled Felrix as she holstered her smoking six-and-a-half gun opposite to its twin. The Skaven bounty hunter snatched up the extra large warp-coffee she had just ordered.

    Eli-Nesz kept his gun up uncertainly. "'Inshunes?' Don’t you mean 'Injuns' mister?"

    The man walked right up to the tech-priest, took a long draw from his cheroot then removed it from his mouth.

    "I did not say 'Injuns', Mr Nesz. We don't stereotype stereotypes in these parts. I said, 'insurance'. That's what I sell, and it seems to me you could do with a little surety." He flicked the ash carelessly off the end of his cigar and turned to the barman. "You should get that piano fixed."

    "What's this?" asked Lord Khan'Man suspiciously.

    "This," explained Lord Roob as he wrung out the towel he had been using to mop his head, "this is how we’re playing this round, which I can’t lose. Rid me of those Troublesome Toad Lickers if you can, but I’m introducing a hero of MY choice. So far you've had chance go your way because you change the rules all the time. I'm changing chance."

    "Surety?" asked Eli-Nesz.

    "Just get back on your pale horse and ride out of here. You ain’t welcome, Underwriter," snarled Felrix into her second warp-coffee.

    “Don’t you mean, ‘Undertaker’?” asked Eli-Nesz.

    “Nope.” She drained the mug in one swallow. “Barman!”

    The saloon doors burst inwards again. There was dwarf prospector at the threshold with his mouth open. Four warp-bullet holes appeared in his hat. Very soon afterwards there was the sound of two pairs of gunshots, followed relatively much later by the dwarf declaring, “Trouble’s a-comin’, Trouble’s a- Say... you’re pretty fast, ain’t ya, Lady.”

    “If you’re gonna stand there saying I’m pretty,” Felrix fluttered her eyelashes, “you’d better buy me a drink. I’m having-”

    “Warp coffee,” grunted the barman as he dumped a steaming jug in front of her. “Keep the whole damn pot.”

    “Trouble?” Eli-Nesz was having a baffling day. His fourth in relatively quick succession.

    “Yeah, Trouble. Them troubulous goblins, the McCoy Boys are a’comin’ down outta the Bad Lands and they are juiced up plenty. I’d say they’ve just given someone a good lickin’ and they’re on their way here to celebrate. Say Piano-man, could you tone it down or tune it up a little? Sounds like you’re hittin’ the keys with dead rat.”

    The Piano-man paused. He had indeed been playing the instrument by hitting each key, or large groups of them, with an armoured and undeniably dead rat. The rat was impaled on the end of a pitchfork. “No one appreciates my art,” he grunted. “I’m going upstairs to my balcony room which overlooks the street. Come along, Steinway.”

    His grunting progress up the stairs was only slightly less musical than his “art”.

    “Where was we?” asked the prospector.

    “In dire need of cover. I’m selling, and prospecting is a risky business. Are you buying, Oldtimer?” The Underwriter flipped the ash off his cheroot again and the prospector quickly pushed his dusty satchel out from under the falling ash with his foot.

    “I manage my own risk, Snake-oil.”

    “What’s this cover you are all talking about?” Eli-Nesz was tired of being in the dark. He had barely spoken before he found the Underwriter was seated at the table opposite him examining a shiny pistol.

    The tall man gave the cylinder a spin, and when the buzz had stopped, he opened the cylinder and removed all but one cartridge with his long fingers. “Are you a betting man, Mr Nesz?” He snapped the cylinder closed and spun it again.

    “That’s my pistol…”

    The Underwriter cocked the hammer and peered down the sight. At Eli-Nesz. “Just imagine you are about to be involved in an endeavour that has a risk of an… unfavourable outcome, Mr Nesz, and you and I are to have a wager. You might bet that the worst is going to happen, and if you were right, why, I would provide generous restitution. But I am an optimist, Mr Nesz. I would bet that everything would end well. If I were right, I would take my fair due.”

    He de-cocked the hammer, nimbly reloaded the pistol, spun the cylinder again and returned it to its owner. “Either way, you win, Mr Nesz. Think on it.”

    “Quit jawin’, Snake-oil. Them McCoy Boys is almost here, and I ain’t waitin’ for them to smoke us out.” The prospector poked Eli-Nesz in the arm. “I hear you got a cool hand, sonny. And a cool everythin’ else. We'll see them boys off, with some help from… Where are you goin’, girl?”

    Felrix was twitching her way painfully towards the dim back of the saloon. Behind her was a stack of six upended extra-large warp-coffee mugs and the empty pot. “Just gotta… umm… spend a bounty. If you need me I’ll be in the Ladies’ Room, sorry.”

    "And where's the confounded sheriff and the townsfolk?"

    "Cowering behind the bar."

    "Then it's just you and me, Cool-hand.”

    -----

    Eli-Nesz blinked in the harsh sunlight of the street. In front of the saloon porch there was a water trough and an empty hitching rail. On the other side of the dusty street was an unattended open wagon.

    “Them McCoy’s will be comin’ to the saloon, Cool-hand. We’ll bushwhack them here.”

    “The street is twice as wide as it should be for a good ambush, Prospector.”

    The dwarf squinted around and spat on the porch. “Tarnation, you’re right. We’ll need TWO ambushes. You hunker down behind that there wagon. When them boys come up, I’ll ambush them here and drive them over like a stampede of beastmen tryin' to avoid bein' made into steers. Then you ambush them proper.”

    “Wat're you going to drive them over with? Your banjo?”

    The Prospector dropped his satchel on the porch, scraped a match on the sole of his boot, lit a corncob pipe and jammed it into the mass of matted facial hair beneath his nose. “I manage my own stampedes, Cool-hand.”

    Eli-Nesz peered stared past the facades of the livery and the other western town style buildings. “So are those boys just going to walk into town like they own it?”

    “McCoy’s don’t walk nowhere.”

    “Ride, then.”

    “They don’t ride, neither.”

    A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, accompanied by wild whooping, fierce hollering and an irregular thudding sound.

    “They hop.”

    A dramatic and unpleasant chord played on a heavenly piano.

    “Consarn it, Piano-man. It's a musical instrument not a saddle blanket!”

    An irritated voice filtered down from the balcony above the saloon porch. “Come up here and say that, Fleabag!”

    During that exchange the dust cloud approached quickly. Eli-Nesz could make out thirteen large, round shadows in the cloud. They seemed to bounce erratically as they drew nearer. “Squig Herders,” he sighed as he took up position behind the wagon and checked his guns.

    When he looked up again he saw that the Prospector had pulled a fat red candle out of his satchel and was lighting the short wick from his corncob pipe. Even from the other side of the street, Eli-Nesz could see untranslatable dwarven runes on the side of the candle which looked like this: TNT. The wick started to smoke and fizz.

    The McCoy Boys may have been heading for the saloon, but it was hard to tell. Every time one of their wild mounts hit the ground it bounced off to a more or less random direction and height. Nonetheless, they traversed the length of the deserted street with frightening speed and a cacophonic chorus of goblin yelling, squig grunting and exuberant gunfire. They only quieted down as their leader reined his bucking bicuspid ball in to the saloon hitching rail, which it promptly ate.

    The prospector was standing in front of the saloon doors with his feet apart. “Are you lookin’ for trouble here, Boss McCoy?”

    The goblin slid off his saddle and smiled with an incomplete set of sharp teeth. “I don’t look for trouble, dirt-scratcher. I bring trouble.” He patted the flank of his snarling squig.

    “Oh. Is it hungry?” The Prospector tossed the fizzing candle and then threw himself behind the water trough.

    It was an unfortunate reflex, but the squig snapped the candle out of the air and swallowed it whole. A moment later there was a sound like thunder and the creature burst into a shower of skin, blood, entrails, bone and teeth. The prospector leapt up again with two more smoking cylinders and flung them at the stamping feet of the other riders. Goblins aren’t that smart but squigs have an unlikely knack for survival. The other mounted riders were bounced to a safe distance before the candles exploded. Boss McCoy scrambled back in a far less dignified way and was also spared from more than a shower of hot gravel.

    The dwarf yee-hawed like a Chaos aligned donkey and lit up another candle with his pipe. “Let ‘em have it Cool-hand,” he yelled.

    Eli-Nesz needed no further encouragement. He leapt onto the wagon and started to pump glyph bullets out of his guns and into the milling herd. The problem was that their random movement made the mounts and riders unpredictable. The normally unerring skink didn’t hit a single target. In the meantime the McCoy boys figured out they were in a pinch, or possibly a doublecross AND a pinch. Rather than brave the thunder candles of the dwarf, they turned their guns on Eli-Nesz. The bounty hunter ducked down behind the wagon again, helpless to stop the goblins’ irregular advance.

    Their hail of gunfire was less than accurate, but before long the wagon had its wheels blown off, and the sideboards and bed were being quickly reduced to splinters. The skink’s shelter was reducing by the second and he was running out of time, when he heard a voice call, “I’ll cover you, and you make a break for it. ... deal?”

    “Okay, yes. Deal,” Eli-Nesz shouted back. ‘Ready? Now!” He balled up his courage and darted out from behind the disintegrating wagon. He skidded to a stop when he found himself facing thirteen gun barrels. Boss McCoy’s shotgun muzzle was so close to the skink’s nose that he could smell the metal. He dropped his pistols and kneeled. Apart from the goblins there was only one other individual on the street.

    “You’ve made a wise choice, Mr Nesz, accepting my cover.”

    “I was hoping you would lay down a withering enfilade. Preferably with a Gatling gun.”

    The Underwriter stepped delicately around the goblins’ guns and approached the pinioned bounty hunter. “You don’t understand the nature of the cover I have provided, Mr Nesz. I have insured you for life.”

    “So, if I die, you will restore me to life?”

    “Not at all, sir. If you die, I will provide generous restitution to your wife and children. Are you a married man, Mr Nesz? No? Then I might lay a wreath at your spawning pool.” He took a long drag from his cheroot. “If I’m passing by.”

    “And if I live?”

    “I will take my fair due.”

    “Which is?”

    “It is life insurance, Mr Nesz. I’ll be taking your life. Or your soul at least.”

    “I don’t think so, Underwriter.” The dissenting voice was high pitched and quivering with rage. Or possibly quivering with 6+ extra large warp-coffees – sometimes it’s hard to tell. The dirty dozen squig riders bounced themselves around to see who had spoken. Boss McCoy, being dismounted, merely turned his head.

    It was Felrix the bounty hunter. She had both guns out and she was jiggling up and down in the way that only excessive amounts of warp-coffee can induce.

    “Felrix,” cautioned Eli-Nesz, “you can’t shoot them, they are too random.”

    “Oh, Eli. You ain’t seen random. Not by a long… animosity tests for everyone!!!!!!!!”

    The squig riders scattered. Somehow, without even moving from her position on the street, so did Felrix. She emptied her guns into the stampeding herd and every warp-stone bullet felled a McCoy or hit a squig in a tender enough place that it was prompted to attempt to get itself quickly to Dodge just for the sake of getting out of Dodge as quick as possible.

    The street was empty again, with the exception of a kneeling Eli-Nesz, Boss McCoy (who still had his shotgun levelled north of most of the skink’s unnecessary bits and south of all of his other unnecessary bits), the menacing Underwriter and an unnervingly calm warp-coffee addict.

    “Release him," she said.

    “Please, Ma’am. You fired off your last bullet. I counted.”

    “A pair of six-and-a-half guns, Underwriter - I’ve got my own insurance. I told you once already - get on your pale horse and ride out of here”

    “A thirteenth bullet? You can’t threaten me, Ma’am. There are two targets, and we both know your bullet would be wasted on me.”

    “You sound pretty sure.”

    “I would scarcely choose to walk this realm if I wasn’t insured against bullets.”

    “What about these?” Felrix pointed her guns behind her and, without looking, discharged them. The thirteenth bullet scorched across the street and snicked through the stalk of the Prospector’s corn cob pipe. The cob fell into his open satchel. The dwarf looked down, yelped, looked up and dived into the water trough. The entire façade of the saloon when up in flames, smoke and thunder.

    “A wasted effort, Ma’am. I will take my fair due and-”

    A flaming piano plummeted out of the heavens, crushing the Underwriter with a resounding E flat major chord.

    Boss McCoy looked at the shattered piano, looked at the denuded saloon, looked at the piano again and then looked at Eli-Nesz over the barrels of his shotgun again. “So what happens now, slick?” he asked.

    That all happened moments before a dead, armoured rat fell on him. Followed by a very pointy pitchfork. Last of all, Ti-Rakz made an impactful entrance, rendering rat, pitchfork, shotgun and boss very much nonviable. The bulky saurian stood up, dusted himself off and spied the piano. “Confounded tarnation. Now I need to find a new hobby." He wandered towards the railway house.

    Felrix suddenly froze, as if she was in some kind of severe discomfort. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I just need to spend a bounty again.” She staggered towards the smoking saloon. “Damn warp-coffee.”

    The prospector dragged himself out of the water trough and sloshed over to Eli-Nesz. ”You surely are a cool-hand, fella.”

    The skink bounty hunter rose to his feet. “I think I handled that all pretty well. Now the town is safe.”

    The dwarf took off his hat and waited for the water drain out of the bullet holes. Then he held it to his chest. “And I say ‘amen’ to that. Leastaways until them Hatfield boys get bored.”

    -----

    "A falling piano? Where did that come from?"

    "The sky."

    "I hate you."
     
  20. Bowser
    Slann

    Bowser Third Spawning

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    Oh man that made me laugh! The prospector character is amazing and hilarious, fantastic addition to the wild bunch. I really like how the underwriter went from sort of joke to legitimately threatening.
     
    Last edited: Jul 20, 2016

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