JORDAN SALE
"That's all, thank you," Jordan said, standing up from the bar. The man looked at him, puzzling over their encounter.
"But we weren't finished," the man protested. No one left him unsatisfied. He was a man with friends in high places, after all. He was Herm, and he could make your life hell.
"Yes," Jordan nodded, pulling his tan hood up, "We are."
Jordan began to exit the pub. Herm stumbled over to him, and clamped a hand down on his shoulder.
"We are not done here," Herm hissed.
Jordan sighed, "You're right."
"I- I am?"
"Well the poison should have kicked in by now," Jordan admitted, "So clearly something has gone awry."
"Pardon?"
"I'm going to have to do this the old fashioned way. We're not done here after all," Jordan said, relaxing his arms.
"What are you talking about?" Herm asked shakily, slowly backing away.
Jordan advanced on Herm, swiftly gripping him by the hair and slamming his head against the bar. It shook violently, spilling some drinks.
"What the hell, man?" an overweight man growled from the other end of the bar.
"My apologies, Newman," Jordan said quickly, before flipping Herm around to face him. He then kicked Herm's right knee and an earsplitting crack filled the pub. It was followed by complete silence. Then the sobbing of Herm.
"Who are you?" Herm cried.
"It doesn't matter who I am," Jordan said, crouching down to be eye-to-eye with Herm, "What matters is who sent me. You've pissed off a lot of people in your life, Herm. The past always catches up to you."
In one quick motion, Jordan drew his dagger from a sheath on his boot and drove it into Herm's shattered knee cap, wrenching it back and forth as Herm shrieked. Finally, Herm's leg detached at the knee. Jordan grabbed the loose limb, and smacked Herm in the face with his foot.
"Why you kicking yourself?" the overweight man, Newman, howled in laughter.
"Really killing the mood, Newman," Jordan muttered. Once Herm was all cried out, Jordan slung him over his shoulder. He trudged out of the pub, and was met with a brilliant, blazing sunset. One he might have once loved to sit down and gaze at with Marion. The floating, gear filled islands of Iuppiter dotted the warm sky, orange with hints of yellow and even purple. And red. Blood red.
Jordan made it to the edge of the small island that the pub was located on, took Herm off of his shoulder, and held him over the edge.
"Who?" Herm said, no tears left.
Jordan leaned forward and whispered a name in his ear. Herm's eyes widened and Jordan let go.
He turned around and briskly walked into the bar, removing his hood.
"What a show," Newman cheered.
"A tad macabre," a thin man with sparse blond hair added.
"Figured you'd be used to it by now, Mack," a third man, stocky and tall, said.
"I oughta be," Mack, the thin man, said.
"Come on now, Jordan," the stocky man said, "Have a drink. On us."
"Thank you, Stoar," Jordan smiled, teeth shining. He slid into a seat at the bar, and drank with his friends, ignoring the tumult, turmoil, and terror of the other Kingdoms.
- - -
BODHI TURRE
Bodhi chastised the small black salamander as it skittered around between the limp trees of Mossley.
"Stop!" Bodhi whispered, "No, Slip!"
Slip, the salamander, paid no heed to Bodhi. Slip wanted to investigate what was going on at the front gates of the town. And Slip got what Slip wanted.
Bodhi leapt at Slip, trying to catch the sneaky creature. Slip squirmed through the interwoven twigs that acted as Bodhi's fingers.
"Don't you do it," Bodhi warned. Slip turned around to face Bodhi and cocked his head to the side.
"We need to stay hidden," Bodhi insisted, "Do you not know who those people are? It's Prince Ven, Yantarlian soliders, and soldiers of Infernia! Two opposing sides! Something's about to go down! We need to stay away."
Slip squeaked before sprinting towards the crowd. Bodhi paused a moment, thinking through what to do. He couldn't let his only friend be there when the fireworks started. He sprinted out of the woods, racing after Slip, and nearing the potential war zone. He caught up to Slip in no time and dove over him. Bodhi clutched Slip tight, and squeezed his eyes shut, praying he would somehow turn invisible. No luck.
Uh oh.