Blood and Rain

"Oi, you blokes just don't learn do you?" the Slasher grinned and belted Fred in the stomach. Fred doubled over in surprise and pain and in the next instant had his hands wrapped around the Slasher's throat, the two of them rolling over and over in the mud.

"Assault!!" the Slasher shrieked. "Robbery! Murder!"

More Slashers appeared out of nowhere, surrounding the scene. "I've nothing to do with them!" the pony-tailed boy yelled, pointing at Fred, but the Slashers weren't paying attention. The first one to reach them swung a massive two-handed warhammer at the boy's face - he stepped back just in time, pulling out a dagger.

"Wot's this now? Pullin' a shiv on the town's guard?" sneered one of the Slashers. "Get 'im lads! We'll 'ave 'im in chains by sundown!"

"Stay back! Back! Or I'll cut ya like a bad side of ham!" the boy spat. Thunder boomed, and the rain suddenly came down in earnest, drowning everything in thick sheets of water. Fred head-butted the Slasher he was choking and jumped up as Slashers swarmed all over him, punching and kicking. Fred pushed one of them away and elbowed another in the throat, but then someone jumped on him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back. A Slasher loomed over him and smashed Fred directly in the face with his club. He could taste blood, and heard the pony-tailed kid yelling as the Slashers pinned him down. Fred kicked out with both boots, catching the club-swinger right in the side of the jaw - but then a resounding uppercut from somewhere filled Fred's vision with flashing lights. He dropped to his knees hard, somehow flipping the guy holding his arms over on his back. Fred gave him a clap on the side of the head and kicked out behind him, breaking someone's kneecap. Someone kicked Fred in the ribs - he grunted in pain and lunged forward, driving another Slasher to the ground and punching him out.

Blood and rain were dimming Fred's sight, but he was suddenly able to discern another Slasher across the street, garbed in a robe instead of coat and breeches, thus distinguishing him as a student of magic rather than the sword. Not good, Fred thought, seeing that the Slasher had raised his staff and begun to chant. Another club smashed against the back of Fred's head - he roared in agony and rolled away, entangling his attacker's legs in the process and bringing him facedown into the mud. Two more Slashers were running up, drawing their swords now. Fred flipped to his feet and drew his own sword - a Slasher swung at his neck, but Fred turned the blow aside and slammed the handle of his sword into the Slasher's skull, sending him flying. The second Slasher hesitated - and that was when the fireball caught Fred square in the back. He was flung forward, sliding through the mud, and struggling to stand for a few seconds before a boot slammed into his head and everything went dark.

Fred awoke in a dimly lit cell. He was clamped in manacles right across from the pony-tailed boy.

"Oh, so you're finally up," the boy said sarcastically. "Mr. I Just Cant Apologize. Do you realize what a fine fix you've gotten us into?"

"Nguoah..." Fred rasped, his throat dry. "Need... booze..."

"Still, that was quite a bit of a thrashing you took back there," the boy said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. "And you worked those goons over but good. Too bad we couldn't have met under better circumstances. I could use a man like you. There is something I need to do, and nothing is going to stop me - not the Slashers or these chains or anything. I won't stay down here long. My name is Cecil, by the way."

"Fred." Fred coughed. "How exactly are you planning to get out of here?"

"I've got a lockpick. I'm working on these manacles right now. Then I'll release you and open the door next."

"A lockpick? You're no ordinary noble whelp, are you?" Fred said.

Suddenly there was the sound of a door slamming at the end of the corridor, and then approaching footsteps. The buxom, chainmail-clad priestess loomed over them, hands on hips, a Slasher following her at a respectful distance.

"Just what part of my instructions were unclear?" she glared. "Must I have elucidated every single thing? Included 'no brawling with the entire town guard' as part of my list of unwanted behaviours in a Geohound? Look at you, you're a mass of bruises! Tsk tsk, Fred."

"Hello, Sharon," Fred said. "Did the Ceremony come out alright?"

"Not as well as could be hoped," Sharon said, her voice falling to a whisper. "In fact, we need your help. Who is that there with you?"

"Hello, Sister. How do you do?" Cecil said with a winning smile. "I'm Cecil. I just got caught up in a spot of trouble along with ol' Fred here."

"Well, that settles it," Sharon said, turning to the Slasher. "You won't be imprisoning little kids, sir. Immediately release Fred and his companion into the custody of the Church."

"But he endangered public safety, and savaged a score of my fellow Slashers!" the Slasher protested.

"He will be judged - and punished - by the higher authority of the Church. This man is a violence addict, he needs treatment, and cleansing of the soul. Now will you return the Geohound, his companion and their belongings, or will I have to report this to the High Priestess and file complaint forms AZ121 and GT3803 with the local governance?"

1. "Very well," the Slasher said, spitting up chew. "Can't bloody well go against the Church, now can we? Go ahead, I'll be glad to let you take the bloody lunatic off my hands."
2. "Sorry, Sister," the Slasher said, shaking his head. "These two iz got to go in front of the Listeners."

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