"No one told me there would be a monster like this here."
-Heard by a scout on number 227.
Carrie saw Yeshmov from the window. Green had yet to confront the man as she thought he would. Everything is okey, Carrie told herself, he won't actually let me leave with a stranger.
The train began to stop, and the man ushered Carrie to the door. She followed, unsure how she should handle the situation. And found herself off the train a few moments later.
She looked back to where Green was sitting, but her view was obstructed by other people. The man guided her off the train, then brought her into town. Carrie kept glancing behind her, expecting Green to show up any moment now.
He didn't.
"Ah, here we are," Phil said.
They had made their way down several streets and had stopped at an old warehouse.
"A-are you sure this is the place?" Carrie asked.
"Yup, we have a bunch of stuff, and we like to keep everything in a warehouse." Phil replied. "Everyone should be here today to finish organizing everything."
Carrie took a shaky step back, "s-sorry, um, I think I saw someone I know back at the train station. I'd just rather travel with someone familiar, you see, and—"
Before she could even finish the sentence, Phil's hand grabbed her arm. Carrie gasped, pulling against him, a sudden, cold dread gripping her stomach. She squirmed, trying to wrench free, but his grip was surprisingly strong.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging her to scream. She opened her mouth, but a rough lump of cloth was shoved against her lips, silencing her before the sound could even escape.
She was forced in a moment later
"Hey, guys!" Phil shouted. "I found an elf on the train!"
Carrie's eyes widened in horror. The air was thick with the stench of coal, smoke, and sweat, a suffocating heat radiating from massive, glowing furnaces. A few dozen pairs of eyes, belonging to men caked in grime and soot, lifted from their work.
This wasn't some quiet warehouse; it was a running forge, alive with the clang of metal and the hiss of steam.
A moment later, a man stepped from a shadowed room against the wall. He was opulent, not just well-dressed, but silk-vest-straining-over-a-considerable-gut opulent.
He wore rings as thick as knuckle bones, glittering on every other finger as he strode purposefully towards Phil.
"An elf, you say?" the man rumbled, his voice surprisingly soft for his bulk, yet carrying an undeniable edge of authority.
He stopped before Phil, his gaze sweeping over Carrie, lingering for a moment on her pointed ears.
"Mhm, she was looking for help getting back to her city," Phil answered, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Said there was a big bounty to bring her back. I was thinking we could bribe a local hunter near her city, let them bring her in, and we'd split the reward."
A sneer twisted the large man's lips. "What are you, an idiot, Phil?" he scoffed, his voice hardening. "The slavers would pay far more for a flaming elf. This thing'll fetch a premium in the right markets."
Phil's shoulders slumped slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Yeah, well, listen, Boss," he continued, a desperate note in his voice. "Since I found her, I was wondering if I could have a little fun before we ship her off. Just a little—"
"No," the large man cut him off, his voice flat and final.
"But—" Phil started to protest again.
"She'll sell better without scars," the boss argued, his gaze unwavering as he stared at Phil, then flicked back to Carrie. Carrie felt a fresh wave of nausea. The implication just hung there in the smoky air, sickening her to her core. "Come with me, girl. I'd like to have a chat."
The man's fingers, heavy with rings, closed around Carrie's arm, his grip surprisingly firm. He pulled her away from the main forge floor, leading her into the stifling side room he'd just exited.
It was small, utterly devoid of ventilation. As he pulled a silver case from his vest and lit a thin cigarette, the acrid smoke immediately stung Carrie's lungs, sending her into a coughing fit.
She doubled over, gasping for breath, the cloth still in her mouth muffling her distress.
"Listen now, girl," the porky man said, his voice impatient, exhaling a plume of smoke. "How much is your city offering for this bounty?"
Carrie finally managed to finish coughing, her hand instinctively rising to cover her burning nose and mouth beneath the gag. "Fifty-six full raches," she croaked, the words muffled but understandable.
"Hm," the man replied, flicking ash into a brass tray. "Well, I suppose it was worth checking." He picked up a small brass bell from a cluttered table and rang it. A moment later, a slender woman with tired eyes entered the room.
"You needed something, Master Dagon?" the woman asked, her voice flat.
"Take this girl to the second room," Dagon demanded, waving a dismissive hand at Carrie. "And contact the Zontells for me. Tell them I have something worth their time."
The woman nodded, her gaze unreadable as she gestured for Carrie to follow. Without another word, they walked out of the stifling forge, leaving behind the heat and the stench of industry, and made their way across a grimy alley to a nearby, nondescript building.
Carrie bolted, unaware of where she was going, but knowing wherever she went, it would be better than there. She looked behind her to see the woman watch her go.
Carrie's heart calmed down some, thinking she was free—until something slammed into her gut. Carrie felt pain shoot throughout her body, followed by a numbness. Her mind followed after, everything going black.
"Mark," Green said. "Hey Mark! The train is boarding passengers, we need to leave!"
Mark woke up, "What?"
"We need to leave, the train's going to leave soon." Green repeated.
"Oh, right," Mark replied, getting Grace up and following Green off the train.
Grace stretched, "where's Carrie?"
"She got off the train a while ago," Green replied.
"Where did you leave her?" Grace asked. "We should get to the adjacent train station as soon as possible."
"She left with someone else," Green said blankly.
"What?" Grace asked.
"She asked me to let her go home with a different bounty hunter," Green said, continuing his walk. "So she met another hunter and he offered to take up the bounty."
"So you left her with some stranger?" Mark asked, anger seeping into his tone.
"Yes," Green replied. "If she doesn't want our protection, I won't force it on her."
"Are you crazy? Mark asked.
Green ignored him, turning to walk off the train. I won't force her to stay, Green thought. Plus, this relieves me of responsibility. I can go on to another bounty..
"Green, are you listening!" Grace shouted.
They exited the train and Green watched it go. His ears twitched a moment later, and he looked behind himself to find Grace red faced.
"You can't just leave her like that!" Grace shouted. "How do you know if that guy is really a bounty hunter?"
"He said he was," Green said.
"Did he have the medallion?" Grace asked. Green shrugged. "That's it! You leave Carrie with some stranger who claims to be a bounty hunter, and you don't even check to see if it's true!? What do you think will happen if he's just some creep!?"
Green shrugged again, turning away. "Then the Silcureuss Guard will get involved, they're far more capable than we are anyway."
"Green!" Grace shouted, causing Green to look back. "What is wrong with you!?"
"I don't feel particularly wrong," Green replied.
"You've been acting like a flaming idiot ever since you got out of the Target fest!" Grace said, furry forcing her tone to rise. "Do you have a problem with Carrie!?"
"No," Green replied calmly.
Grace opened her mouth to speak but Mark stepped up. "I know you might be uncomfortable with how Carrie sees you, but that's no reason to get rid of her."
"How she see me?" Green asked.
Grace groaned, "you're hopeless! You're an idiot. And you know what we're talking about." Graced turned, "common Mark, where finding Carrie. If this moron wants to join us then leave that up to him!"
Green watched them go, then signed. Suppose I'll be taking on the next bounty alone then, he thought.