(Originally posted by Rodge the Linkbot on Wed Dec 23, 2009)
The pair locked eyes, one looked young and short with two pointed ears and strangely pale lips, the other an older man. The bar all stared and watched the two lock eyes, then finally the old man blinked.
“Son of a-” He threw down his talons and stared at Slate. “Where the ‘ell did you find this guy?”
“Well, I was off walking around and I just found this guy.”
“YOU were just walkin’ around?”
Slate leaned back in his chair next to the ‘elf’, “Well, I was in some elf settlement of refugees trying to get some action and-”
“Money or women?”
“Either one, and there he was just arriving after one of Xeranad’s attacks. Next thing I know we were running for our lives.”
“One of them recognized me from the thing at the harbor. They were after him because he was standing close enough to me to make them think he was with me, and, well, here we are.” Slate finished explaining as he scooped up the rest of the talons into a bag holding their previous bets.
The elf tried to say something but wouldn’t move his mouth.
“Eight hundred.” Slate told him.
“’ey, Why does he talk like that?”
“Well, he has a disease that-”
“He still hasn’t blinked yet either.” Came another voice.
Slate swallowed. He had that one feeling. They were onto him.
The man reached out and poked his lips, leaving the wax to crumble in front of him. Karkid sat there in traditional elf clothes and a pair of wax ears.
Kid jumped up and hid behind Slate as the pair backed up towards the wall, “some soldier you are.” He hissed.
Kid just growled at the approaching group, shaking his fist, and standing well behind Slate. The bar’s customers all began to get up and walk towards them.
“Okay, Kid, lesson number one before pulling a con: the most important thing isn’t the con, it’s getting out alive and knowing how.”
“That’s why we’re against an open window.”
Kid rushed the window leaping out. Slate followed, then shut the window behind him. Not many of the people could have gotten through, but odds are at least one could, and that would have been too many.
The pair started sprinting down the street, his ears falling off. “Man I’ve missed this!” Slate yelled laughing.
Kid grunted at him.
“No, I’m terrified, but at least it isn’t fighting an army of evil.”
The pair continued running down the street with the angry mob chasing them, a few wielding broken bottles. People standing and walking along the streets stopped and watched as the mob chased the pair, and a few of them noticed one thing: A stygian. While the members of the mob gave up, new people joined in.
“You can say that again.” Slate grabbed a pole and Kid’s hand spinning into an alley way. The mob followed behind them, screaming. The first thing Kid saw was a wall flat at the end of the alley, then screamed.
“Chill, I know this place like the back of my arm.”
He kept screaming.
Slate slapped him on the back of the head, “CHILL!” He jumped sideways, “COME!. Suddenly they were heading down a thin passage between two buildings, bad city planning at it’s finest. The mob thinned out into one-by-one heading down the thin passage chasing the sprinting pair.
Suddenly they came to a few more opening into the thin passage, leading Slate to taking a sharp turn down a slightly more opening passage with Kid right behind. After a second they were back onto the road. “Ha-ay?”
“Yeah, just starting to run out of breath, I’ll hit my second wind in second.”
The thunder of stomping starting to catch back up. Kid looked over his shoulder, there was a lot less of them, but there was still enough to rip people’s arms off. He remembered that was always fun, except when you’re the person getting their arms ripped off.
The road came to an intersection, Slate took another right, then another, a small handful of people still chased them. They sprinted up a flight of stairs leading up to a shopkeeper’s home, “Ready?”
Kid just made a confused noise.
“NEITHER AM I!”
Slate reached top of the stairs and jumped off, Kid following behind. Slate landed on his back and rolled, then pounded by Kid. The pair got up and moved, trying to get out of the way of the flying broken bottles.
“Augad.” Slate held his chest.
“No, I don’t need your mom, I’ll be fine in a second.” Then he heard the mob coming back down the stairs, “Or worse in a second, maybe. The window!” He pointed.
Kid rammed it headfirst breaking it, then jumped in. Slate came in next, slower, exhausted. “Shh.”
The pair waited silently until the mob had left.
“Yea, I’m okay.” said Slate getting up, “just tired.” And I’m going to be sour tomorrow.
He changed back into Click and the pair walked out of the bathroom and into the store. “Lucky us, we need to do some shopping.”
The remnants of the mob were still searching for them, aimlessly. Kid kept his face down. Click kept walking around, catching his breath as he grabbed some items. Two lock-picking sets, a notebook, rope, small sacks of cotton, and knife. After a moment they were done and went back in the bathroom.
“Diway?” Kid pointed at the window.
“No, just finishing preps.” Click explained, putting the chemicals into a the cloth bags and tying them shut, “bombs, finished.” he tied the rope around his wait, “Rope, just in case.” Now close your eyes.
Kid just stared at him.
“Right, sorry. Turn around.”
Kid did as he was told. After hearing some grunting, “Okay.”
He turned back around, noticing one less lock picking set, two less bombs, and no knife.
“You don’t want to know.”
The pair left the store, suddenly noticing a guards approaching. Twenty of them. “Click.” One stated.
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smiled, “Autographs?”
“No, sir, we’re here to-”
“do you really want to risk it? He took out an entire army single handed.”
From that one sentence Click knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“Wessel’s orders. Sir, we’re here to bring you in.”
“For what?” He stalled for time, coming up with a plan.
“Conspiring against the city, treachery.”
Click smirked, “Okay. I get it.”
He held his hands up, “You want to arrest me. You’ll need a lot more guards. Until then, I’ll spare your lives, and leave.” He ran into another alley way, Kid behind. Before the guards got their, they were gone.