“About time you got down here. My shift ended twenty minutes ago!”

Gunnar and Em both froze.

Em: Shit. What do we do?

Gunnar: I lead you this time. Give me as much foxiness as you got.

“Come on, hurry up,” Gunnar said in as gravelly of a voice as he could muster. He threw back his hood, grabbed Em’s arm, and dragged her after, still dressed in her gown. His hands nearly slipped as he clasped the soft fur that now covered her arms.

He reached the bottom of the steps to find a brute of a man, literally.

Brutish Thug

Level: 14

HP: 150/150

MP: 30/30

Description: Sometimes brawn is better than brains.

The man looked like one of the developers had a thing for Popeye. He wore a tight-fitting striped shirt that was barely more than a second skin stretched over bulging muscles complete with an anchor tattoo on his right arm. He glared at them as Gunnar shoved Em forward.

“Who the hell is she?” he demanded, hand braced over a large battle axe strapped to his back.

“Let me go!” Em muttered, attempting to tug her hand free.

“One of the new wenches was misbehaving,” Gunnar said, gesturing to the bloody tear in his clothes with his free hand.

The brute eyed her with suddenly ravenous eyes. “Chimeras always need a little breaking.” He glanced over at a series of doors across the room. “I’ll teach her a good lesson, don’t you worry about that.”

Gunnar rolled his eyes. “Well, alright, then.”

He shoved her forward, but this time rather than resisting him, Em leapt at the thug, landing on his chest and digging her claws into his face.

The brute roared. Gunnar hoped there was no other guard down here, but it was too late now. The guard fell backwards, and Em went flying over his head. Gunnar drew his Nightblade from his belt, leapt forward, and plunged it into the man’s shoulder.

[You have dealt +25 Damage to Brutish Thug!]

He’d aimed for the chest, but at the last second, the man turned. He roared in pain, but it didn’t deter him. A fist the size of a mallet struck him in the side, and Gunnar keeled over on the ground, pain shooting through his ribs.

Drawing from his Inventory, Gunnar equipped his saber and leapt at the thug. But the man had recovered his footing and drawn his axe. He parried Gunnar’s attack easily. Blood dripped from his face, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut from Em’s claws.

He and Em both attacked at once. Gunnar drew the man’s attack, the axe narrowly missing his head, while Em managed a glancing blow on the brute’s arm. He hollered in pain, and the sound echoed all around the chamber, but the man’s Health was still at 75%.

Gunnar had hoped to conserve his ammo for Mavenport, but this dude was liable to bring the whole damn street down on them if they kept dealing these small amounts of damage. Em leapt forward, armed with twin daggers, but Gunnar kept back and drew his blunderbuss. Em’s attack drew the brute’s attention. They exchanged blows, and she spun away, as the man missed a heaving attack that sparked on the stony ground. The attack left him exposed.

Not that it would have likely mattered anyway.

The room flashed with green light as the scattershot exploded in the man’s chest. The magical force emitted little sound, though it shook the room nonetheless.

Gunnar wasn’t going to risk anything.

He fired a second shot.

[You have defeated Brutish Thug with an assist from Em (Just Em). Here’s 15 XP!]

The thug dropped to the ground and went still.

Gunnar hurried over and retrieved his Nightblade from the man’s shoulder, which had thankfully endured the magic attack. The thug carried a handful of coins and a Stamina potion. Gunnar examined the battle axe’s properties, but it was an ordinary steel weapon and was a bit heavy for his liking, so he left it.

When he turned, he found Em waiting for him, wearing her ninja attire once more.

He shook his head. “How do you change so fast?”

“Long story. We better hurry.”

Gunnar handed her half of the coins, then together, they dragged the thug’s body back underneath the staircase and out of sight. Someone would be coming eventually to relieve the guard. Might as well not tip them off immediately.

They hurried down the corridor. It was not difficult to find what they were looking for. Around the next corner, the hall opened into a wide chamber with a massive water tank that connected into the ceiling. The tank branched off three times, leading to three smaller tanks that were little bigger than the large fish tanks Gunnar had seen in doctor’s offices and the like. Three mermaids lay upon the glass bottoms, seemingly asleep. One had light blue skin and the other two were emerald, all with a pattern of dark and light shades interwoven in wavelike patterns.

Em seethed as she approached the central one.

“Doesn’t seem to be any sort of door or anything,” she said, inspecting all four sides of the rectangular tank.

At her voice, the mermaid jolted and darted back, her head colliding with the glass. Her eyes went wide with terror.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Em said softly. “We’re here to rescue you.”

The mermaid shook her head and trembled. She looked young to Gunnar, probably younger than he was, though he knew nothing of the aging of merfolk.

“We’re friends of Dash’s,” Gunnar said.

The woman’s face softened slightly at the name, and her eyes locked with Gunnar’s. He felt a sudden warmth wash over him, and he realized it was magic, not unlike the way he felt upon realizing that someone had cast Scan on him. But this was a different spell—he was pretty sure it must be the Psychic Impression spell he’d seen at Hel’s place.

There was a tingle in his mind, and then, he felt an understanding come over him.

I know you, the mermaid seemed to say in his mind.

Gunnar froze. Had he really heard that? The mermaid floated in the tank, her dark eyes locked with his, though her lips had not moved.

I’ve seen you. In the Mermaid.

He recalled the first time he’d been to the Mermaid, when a dancer had locked eyes with him and a strange feeling had come over him. A sense of sadness.

“You tried to speak to me, then, didn’t you?” Gunnar murmured.

“What?” Em asked.

“The mermaid,” Gunnar said. “I think she’s some sort of telepath.”

I remember your face. You looked embarrassed to be there.

“I was,” Gunnar said.

You know Dash?

“More like a friend of a friend. We’re gonna get you out of here, Lydenestra. Isn’t there a latch or something around here somewhere?”

The mermaid shook her head. There was movement from the other tanks, and Gunnar realized that the other two had woken and were staring at him with hopeful eyes.

“How did they put you in here?” Gunnar asked.

Top of the tank. Somewhere above the main dining hall.

“Shit,” Gunnar said.

“What?” Em asked.

“There’s no latch down here.”

“Of course not. What’re we gonna do?”

“Could you swim up?” Gunnar asked the mermaid.

The way is blocked.

Lydenestra glanced up to where her branch met with the main tank. There was a thick steel plate blocking the way.

It doesn’t open from down here. Only Sykes can trigger it.

“What’s she saying?” Em asked.

“There’s no way to get her out… unless…”

Gunnar trotted away from the chamber, leaving Em behind.

“Unless what?”

Gunnar returned moments later, bearing the dead thug’s battle axe.

Em’s eyes went wide. “There’s gotta be a better way. Do you realize how much water is in those tanks?”

Lydenestra held his gaze for a moment, but she nodded her approval. The mermaid motioned to the tanks beside her, and Gunnar grimaced.

“We’re just here for you,” Gunnar said softly.

Sykes will punish them for this. Please.

“There’s only two of us,” Gunnar said.

“Maybe not,” Em said.

“What?”

“Those doors back down the hall. There must be more wenches locked up down here than are being used right now.”

“We were supposed to keep this simple. Just her.”

“It’s never simple, Gunnar.”

He always feared this quest would get out of hand, though he had to admit, he did like the idea of leaving the city while Sykes struggled without his signature mermaids or his whores. And the chaos of a larger breakout could work in their favor. So long as they didn’t get caught.

“Alright, but we’ve gotta be quick.”

Gunnar leaned the axe against Lydenestra’s tank and hurried back the way they’d come. He froze when he realized that one of the doors was already open. A young orc woman emerged, wearing a leather mini skirt and a revealing crop-top.

She was followed by Jiselle, whose eyes settled coldly on them.

“So, the traitor returns.”