20070831

Opportunity Knocks

Five, only five,” Sergeant Julius thought to himself. “Malcavoy had better come through with the others, and quick. It’s a good thing there’s not much going on down here… yet.”

“Where do you want to establish the Garrison Sergeant?”

Julius, he still hadn’t gotten used to the name, stirred himself from his thoughts. He knew exactly where he wanted to position every thing. He just didn’t have the man power to do it very quickly. He set down the pile of rebar he was moving into position for an outer wall and whipped the beading sweat from his face.

“Your standing in it Froster. I need you to demo that hab-block over there,” Julius replied pointing to a row of five old tenements, long abandoned. “We need to clear it for fire lanes. And this time, see if you can leave us some useful materials. We can’t be bringing down everything we need from above.”

Froster nodded and moved off to complete his assignment. Julius looked around. With nothing apparently living in the newly rediscovered dome they had their pick of locations. The Enforcer Sergeant had settled on a three hundred by two hundred meter island that was completely surrounded by a river of industrial waste run-off. The toxic river had surprisingly little fumes. Perhaps it was because there was an equal amount of breeze that also blew through the dome. The sole bridge connecting the small island to the rest of the dome was still intact, and it was apparent that this little island had once been a sort of central trading post for the outlying regions. It also just occurred to him that the viscous sludge flowing past was not acidic, the metallic piers that jutted out from the island and “mainland” still stood. If the liquids had been corrosive they would have long been eaten away he thought.

As it was, he and his five man patrol were busy clearing out an area to firmly establish their new Patrol base. With the bridge coming across at a narrow finger it was easy to determine where the first guard tower would be located. The second would enclose one of the piers on the river, while the third would face the rest of the island. In time the Enforcer’s precinct compound would be a reassuring presence to those who walked by. But that was still sometime in the future. Until the Guilders arrived with the first shipment of supplies, materials, and servitors, the work would be slow going. Even so, he needed to establish presence patrols.

“Kyle! Come here!”

The Enforcer picked up his shotgun he had leaning against a post where he had been digging, and scampered over.

Returning the man’s salute Julius informed him, “Grosse and I will be heading across the bridge. I need you, Hicks, and Froster to keep watch on the approach. No one is to cross until our return.”

“Understood,” was the only reply before the man went off to obey his orders.

Malcavoy, you sure can pick good men,” Julius thought to himself.

“Grosse!”

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

Fifteen minutes after his conversation with Kyle Julius was ready to head out with Grosse and their assigned Cyber Mastiff, affectionately called ‘Logan’ – well, affectionately to at least Grosse that is. As they performed their final checks on their kit Froster could be heard calling out, “Fire in the hole!”

BAWHOOM!

The ground trembled under their boots as the demolition charges went off. Looking over to where the hab-block that he wanted removed used to be, all Julius could see was a rolling cloud of dust. Yup, things were moving along nicely.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

It felt the ground beneath it rumble. It came from a different direction than the new opening.

Sniffing the air it could not detect anything. Nothing registered out of the norm. With a quick signal it sent others to investigate.

Perhaps the flesh things moved more quickly than it anticipated.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

The hair on the back of Julius’ neck stood straight up at the same time he noticed the foot prints in the ash dust that covered the street before him. It was too quiet, and the air wasn’t moving.

Following the four sets of foot prints with his eyes the Enforcer Sergeant could tell they led to an old gambling den. For the first time the stench of death was close by, and not some faint, indistinguishable odor. This was close, and Julius was sure it was coming from the other end of these tracks.

Grosse sent ‘Logan’ forward. The synthetic dog moved forward sensing the air for any sign of trouble as it went, but it made it to the porch without incident. Once on the porch it caught the scent of a trail and signaled such back to Grosse. Logan also signaled which direction it seemed to go off in, and then went back to sniffing around the porch. After sniffing into the doorway and the broken front window it began to return to its handler.

Halfway back it halted, turned to face back the way it had just come, and the distinctive sound of its synthetic growl began to rumble in its throat. Both Grosse and Julius heard it and readied their weapons.

In the distant shadows both men could see something moving behind the gambling den, on both sides. Logan was constantly growling now, and Grosse had to call to the construct twice to get it to return to him.

Julius signaled them to move forward. He wanted to use the building as a means to narrow down the approaches. As they made the porch Julius had Grosse take the right corner, while he took the left.

“I have two coming my way,” Grosse called over his shoulder.

“Same here,” Julius replied. “Can you make them out?”

There was a slight pause, “not for sure, but they shuffle like plague zombies.”

Great,’ Julius thought to himself. ‘My own patrol, he said. Establish a new dome.’

The Enforcer Sergeant peered around his corner to try and get a better look for himself. ‘Maybe I should have thought twice.’ Sure enough, two man shaped things, shuffling steadily towards them.

“I only see the two, plus your two, we should be in good shape. We take shots and fall back as we go. As long as we stay out of arms reach we should be good.”

“Got it,” Grosse replied.

THWIPING!

“What the hell was that?!” Gross called back as he snapped his suppression shield to the front.

“What was what,” Julius called back.

“Something just ricocheted off my shield, almost like they shot something at me.”

That’s not right. Plague zombies aren’t supposed to do that,” Julius thought to himself.

THWIP, THWIP, THWIP!

around the corner the two zombie-like things were fairly close. Calling over his shoulder to his partner Julius wanted to know where they were at.

“These two have set up an overwatch position. Almost like they want to keep us from running away,” Grosse answered.

Not good. That is not good. Another example of what they’re not supposed to do. They are not supposed to display these kinds of tactics.’ Julius prepared himself. “You’re going to have to hold your side, return fire and keep those things occupied.”

“Ok, wait…” Grosse looked over his shoulder, “…what are you going to do?”

“Ahhhhh!” was the only reply as Julius took off at a full run charging the things on his side.

Glancing down at his Cyber Mastiff, “What are up waiting for?! Logan! Attack!” and the handler motioned for the dog to follow Julius. With a start the cyber mastiff was off to fulfill his handler’s command.

Using a pile of petrified scrap to cover his approach Julius managed to slam into the nearest thing with all his might, and it barely moved. As the Enforcer ready himself to let loose some shots with his bolt pistol Logan lunged from behind and clamped its jaws around the things throat. With a growl and a jerk of its head the Cyber Mastiff snapped the zombie’s neck and it lay still.

Immediately Julius shifted his aim and leveled his bolt pistol at the next zombie’s head. As he was squeezing the trigger he realized that it was cradling some kind of weapon. It looked like a heavy slug thrower, maybe even an ancient bolt gun.

BLAM!

He didn’t give it any more thought, he just pulled the trigger. The small explosive round detonated and the things head shattered.

He watched the thing fall and could not escape the fact that the things he knew about the plague, and what it did to its victims, did not seem to line up with what his mind was registering.

The sound of gun fire brought his mind back into the present. From the other side of the gambling den Julius could here Grosse was fully engaged in a gun battle with these… things. In an effort to flank the assailants he continued around to his left. Stopping at the back corner of the building he peeked around the corner.

Two zombie-like things were engaged in a firefight with Grosse on the far side of the building. He’d have to cover some open ground to get at them, but there was yet another pile of scrap to cover his approach. Logan’s computer brain was not programmed for patience, and it took off running.

At least its smart enough to use cover for the approach,’ Julius thought to himself has he sprinted for the cover.

Logan had slowed enough that Julius caught up at the scrap pile. “Looks like we can turn the tables on these things,” Julius said looking down at the Cyber Mastiff.

Logan looked back up and him and seemed to reply with a quiet synthetic ‘Woof’. Julius chuckled and shook his head slightly to himself.

“Come on boy, let’s get ‘em!”

The pair of Enforcers bolted from behind their cover charging head long at their enemies. This caused the pair of zombies to turn their attention to the new immediate threat.

The nearest one adjusted its fire to the new targets, but it missed completely. The second zombie stepped back to get a better angle at Julius and the dog. When it did so Grosse had a clear shot and he took it. Out of the corner of the charging Sergeant’s eye he saw the other zombie jerk sideways and collapse.

Before Julius could close into reach of his power maul Logan was launching into the air and knocking their combined target to the ground. The thing tried to fight off the powerful construct, but it was just too slow.

I’m going to have to remind Grosse to sterilize that thing before we let it just walk around the compound again,’ the Sergeant thought to himself.

CRACK!

Some sort of slug whistled close enough to force Julius to flinch. Turning towards the new threat he could see the last zombie had recovered enough to return fire once more. This one was close enough to assault right away, but before he could even flinch Logan was on top of the monster, rending it apart.

Before either Enforcer could move to help out the dog it had finished the target off. As they approached it looked up at its handler and simulated panting, and even wagged its synthetic tail.

“Come on, we best get back to the compound. If this is a sign of things to come around here, we are woefully under prepared,” Julius said glumly.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

“Froster, Kyle, Hicks! Front and center!”

The three men picked up their respective weapons and ran to meet their patrol Sergeant. Each man was stripped down to their waist and the sweat was pouring off them. Looking around Julius noted some dramatic improvement to the perimeter. It was not a permanent solution, but it was good. As he turned back to address his men, a fourth, similarly clad Enforcer walked up.

“Sarge, this is Yake. He arrived while you two were out for your walk. He’s been assigned to our little corner of ‘heaven’,” Froster said. “Yake, this is Sergeant Julius.”

Julius recalled the man’s file, “Your our assigned sniper, are you not?”

“Check sir,” the man replied and produced a slightly modified Bolt Gun. The barrel was slightly longer than the standard issue weapon.

“Welcome to patrol sector One Charlie Seven Six Enforcer.” Julius motioned for Logan to bring something up. “You gentlemen need to get back in your battle rattle. It looks like we are going to have some company.”

Logan dropped the zombie body it had been dragging in the middle of the assembled Enforcers. To a man they each turned pale.

“And it gets better,” Julius said interrupting their thoughts. “They were using this,” he added, dropping the captured weapon on the corpse.

Froster turned to his Sergeant and said, “But I thought…”

“Exaclty,” Julius replied.

20070817

Opportunity Knocks

Ian was almost running. Chigger had passed along a juicy tidbit of information. Some Guilders who had been passing through yesterday had let slip that a new dome had been discovered, one that promised a “’treasure trove’ of archeotech that has not been seen in the underhive in many a century”. He wanted to make sure Dyrke heard about this, and quick.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, in his haste, Ian bowled Amber over. The pair ended up intertwined on the floor of the hallway.

“Um… are you ok?” Ian asked as he stood up, and then helped the woman to her feet.

“Yea, I’m good. Where you off to in such a hurry?”

“I need to see Dyrke. Is he down here?”

“Check the main room. I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Catch you later for dinner,” Ian said over his shoulder as he jogged off down the hall.

“Looking forward to it,” was her whispered reply.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-
“No.”

Ian’s mind was having a hard time wrapping around the words coming out of his leader’s mouth. He had grown to trust this man with his life, but it just didn’t make sense. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. This kind of thing does not come knocking very often.

“But, Boss…”

“I said no Ian. We are in control of a vital resource for House Van Saar right here and we are not moving.”

Ian adjusted himself and waited further reprimand. When it didn’t come he allowed himself to exhale. Dyrke dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand. Turning back to his thoughts Dyrke realized that there would be other chances to contribute to this new find. It would just have to be from afar.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Fist dropped his half full duffle bag at his feet and looked around. The cramped room was piled high with boxes. Looking around he couldn’t see anyone.

“Anyone here”, he called out as he knocked on the small counter.

“We meet once more Enforcer, or should I say, ‘Sergeant’ Fist.”

Fist turned to meet the familiar voice. “Judge Malcavoy,” Fist said as he assumed a parade stance, “a pleasure to see you again.”

“Yes,” the judge motioned for his two Cyber Mastiff companions to sit and assume a guarded stance. The sound of the gyros was slightly unnerving, even for one who trains around the beasts regularly. Fist shifted in his stance slightly. “It would seem that you have continued to prove yourself, despite my first impressions of you Enforcer. You have proven me incorrect in my assessment. A rarity, I assure you.”

Fist was about to thank the Judge but was not allowed the opportunity. Producing a large envelope from somewhere within his commissar-like overcoat the Judge continued.

“I have taken steps to arrange for you and your Patrol’s equipment. Also, enclosed within this envelop you will find a dossier of each man I hand selected.”

Fist ripped open the envelope as Judge Malcavoy continued.

“Unfortunately time did not allow me to assemble all of the men before you are to depart. I will personally see to it that they arrive as quickly as possible. The ones who were readily available I have waiting outside.”

Fist reviewed the roster and each man’s specialty. ‘Heavy Stubber, good. Grenade Launcher’, Fist would have preferred a flamer but it would be fine, it would have to be apparently. ‘A sniper? Interesting. A Handler with Cyber Mastiff, excellent. A pair of assault trained Enforcers and a trio of standard shotgun Enforcers – they should form a good core. This is odd…

“Sir, this is an excellent mix of men and equipment. But I wonder,” Fist hesitated a moment. He did not want to come across as questioning his superior’s decision. “Why a demolitions expert? In my experience…”

“Your experience is barely worth noting,” Judge Malcavoy interrupted. “Froster is an excellent man, and you will find that he will be able to get you through any obstacle. Any more questions?”

Fist hesitated. Even if he did he wouldn’t speak up now.

“Oh, and there is one more thing. You will no longer go by the name ‘Fist’. It is to crude and is not a proper reflection of one who represents Lord Helmawr.”

Fist looked up, slightly confused.

“Your name is now ‘Julius’. A more proper and appropriate name don’t you think?”

But before Fist could respond the judge turned on his heals and left. The Cyber Mastiffs turning inward followed on the heels of their master.

“Oh, and you won’t be carrying that barbaric shotgun anymore either,” he called over his disappearing shoulder. “I have left you a present there on the counter.”

Fist stood their dumbfounded. Was there nothing this man did not feel he could control? He started to wonder if he would ever enjoy any sort of free reign, even as a Sergeant. He began to loathe this unwanted mentor.

Turning to the counter was a rectangular military style container; the locking clasps were facing him. Not knowing what else to do he slowly opened up the box.

Inside, held with form fitting insulating foam, was a Power Maul, two power cells, a slightly decorated Bolt Pistol with ‘Julius’ and his new rank etched and stenciled into the side, and two full clips of ammunition.

One can never overlook the generosity of others", Fist thought to himself. "Opportunity does not come knocking all that often.”

20070803

Dome Rush

“Corporal Fist, report to the Commandant’s Office immediately. Corporal Fist to the Commandant’s Office.”

Fist stared at the intercom for a moment. For the past one hundred and fifty days he had been pushed to his limits while training to become a Sergeant in Lord Helmawr’s Enforcers. For all that time he had managed to keep his nose clean and out of trouble. He could not imagine what he could have done to draw this kind of attention, so it was with great trepidation that he reported as ordered.

Fist’s knock on the Commandant’s office was answered promptly and he was called inside. The office was plush by the utilitarian standards of the Enforcers. Several bookcases were lined up along the back wall behind the desk that dominated the room. The desk itself was centered underneath a rare fiber-optic light that funneled sun light this far into the interior of the hive from the outside, a rarity that the stature of the office provided. The sharp contrast of light from what Fist was used to, almost distracted him enough to keep him from noticing the heavy set man standing off to the side of the room.

“Ah, Corporal Fist, please have a seat.” The Commandant said to Fist without standing. When Fist produced a salute he waved it off and again directed him to the chair.

Fist thought about refusing the offer, that he would prefer to stand, but then thought better of it. As he sat down, the man standing off to the left of his commanding officer shifted and started to say something, which was met by a hand held up. This silenced the stranger, at least for the moment.

“Corporal, I have been reviewing your records and I must say that I am happy with your progress. So much so, that I am recommending you for a new assignment, effective immediately.” The Commandant watched Fist for a moment before continuing.

“The gentleman to your right, my left, has brought a situation to the attention of Lord Helmawr himself, a situation that requires our immediate response. You have been assigned to a brand new precinct in the underhive. I know it is not an assignment worthy of your achievements at this academy, but it requires your unique leadership qualities. You will be leaving immediately, and with an understaffed patrol. Do you have any questions?”

Corporal Fist resisted the urge to clear his throat before replying. “Only one sir, will I still graduate with my class?”

The Commandant chuckled as he stood. “No son. You have achieved a good enough score to pass this course. Your record will show satisfactory completion of this school, you are effectively promoted to Sergeant as of this afternoon, and the only thing left is for you to report down to the supply Sergeant and draw your kit. Your newly assigned patrol will meet you there.”

Sergeant Fist stood and accepted his Commandant’s offered hand. “Thank you sir. I will enforce Lord Helmawr’s edicts with all effort.”

The two men shook hands, Fist offered one more salute, and then marched out of the office to begin the next chapter in his career.

Once the door shut behind the eager young man, the Guilder finally spoke up.

“I can’t have such a newly discovered dome to be entrusted to such an inexperienced whelp Colonel. This demands an ‘Iron hand’, a hand that wields the power of Lord Helmawr himself.”

“Bring it down a notch Guilder. This ‘inexperienced whelp’, as you refer to him, comes with the direct recommendation of Judge Malkavoy himself. You will not find a man more ready to accept this responsibility. At least not one that’s available at this time.”

“Very well Colonel. But be advised that you will be held responsible if he should fail in his mission.”

-=-=-=0=-=-=-
“How dare you lose face like that?!”

The proud Escher warrior actually cringed under her Matriarch’s rebuke.

“As a result of your failures we have lost a major route to our holdings within the underhive!” The elder was beginning to get red in the face, and Fushia was getting nervous.

“Your team is getting split up. We can no longer afford such visible mistakes at the Bifrost! We are taking five members of your gang and sending them on an errand for the greater House. As for you, you are being sent further down to manage our chemical salvage operations.”

Fushia stood up to defend her honor. Instead she felt two heavy hands land on her shoulders and pressed her back into her seat.

“You leave immediately, take her away.”

The gang leader was dragged snarling from the room. Once she was away the door to the elder Escher’s office was closed.

‘I just can’t tolerate incompetence such as that,’ thought the woman. ‘And now I can have a more… direct influence upon our efforts regarding this recent discovery… coup more of the profits.’

-=-=-=0=-=-=-
"Cross! Come ‘ere!”

The old gravelly voice caught the younger man’s attention. Turning around to look at his father, still dressed in his grease and soot encrusted factory overalls, he noticed that he was carrying a data slate. Not wanting to keep his father waiting he ran quickly across the small courtyard that lay behind their house.

“It would seem you and your fellow delinquents have been given a job.”

“We’re not delinquents pop,” Cross said as he finally got close to his father. “I just choose to run with a gang instead of working the factory.”

“What’s wrong with working in the factory? It’s honest work.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it… I just want to get out and see something other than the smelting pots here in Hive City.”

Taking the data slate from his father Cross read it.

Directive from the office of House Orlock. To the faithful members of Smelting Dome 6796. You are hereby directed to provide your House with one gang of faithful men. They are to report to the local mayor fully equipped to accompany House Orlock representatives down hive. This is to take place immediately.


Signed,


Mayor Dentz

“Are you sure you want to send me Pop?” Cross said as he looked back into the face of his father.

“There’s no one else I would consider, make me proud. And, don’t call me Pop.”
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Lusion paced back and forth. He could feel the eyes of his men on his back as he crossed the small room, each trying to discern what was going through their leader’s mind.

‘There is just no way to verify this source,’ the Delaque leader thought to himself. Turning around he walked slowly back to the other side of the make shift room he and his boys had set up down in the tunnels that had become their refuge. ‘Not while we are holed up down here.’

This continued on for several more minutes before anyone dared to say a word.

“Come on boss, what is it?” Shade finally asked. “I mean you call us down here and all we’ve done is sit and watch you walk back and forth.”

Lusion turned and looked each of his four subordinates, all that was left of a once might gang.

“Gentlemen,” he said pausing for affect. “It has come to my attention that a new dome has been discovered, and not far from where we stand.”

The Delaque raised his hand to quiet the murmuring that had jumped up among their small group.

“It is not a large find, and travel to and from is difficult for now, but it has promise.”

The news encouraged Logan. ‘Finally, a new start,’ he thought to himself.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Caldius strode confidently to the makeshift platform. He had a mission, and he was going to show these people the way, even if it killed them.

“Fellow citizens of the Undying Emperor! A new day is emerging.” He allowed his voice to trail off. When he was confident that he indeed had his audience’s full attention he continued.

“Citizens, I am banding men together to reclaim once what was once lost for the Emperor.”

Again he allowed his voice to trail off before continuing.

“I have been given sponsorship from among those who seek to share with all of Necromunda, the news, and purge those who would oppose the undying Emperor.”

Slowly raising his hands Caldius scanned the crowd as he had seen others do, “House Cawdor calls you forth to follow me on this mission. All who seek to share what we know come with me!”

And with that Caldius turned and decended from his pulpit. From among the two score of people who Caldius had actually drew attention, a small handful of men moved to follow the hooded man. From the balcony across the street two men, hooded and robed in orange, moved.

“He has passion, I’ll give him that,” the shorter of the two men said to the other.

“Hmm,” the second man nodded in agreement. “But passion will only take him so far. Unless he can learn how to stir the masses, how to share his passion, it will only take him so far.” Then the pair turned to leave. “And if he can’t inspire vision, then he will be of limited use to us.”
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Part 2

Gorit growled loud enough that several of his ‘bodyguards’ actually turned their heads to look at him. The Guilders had graciously provided him with, “three of the Hive’s finest” to look after him. “Humph”, he grumbled again. ‘These dregs couldn’t fight their way out of a saloon at closing time,” the Goliath thought to himself.

For the past ten hours the three men, and one woman, stumbled their way through the tunnels that their Leader, Gorit liked the sound of that, had brought them to. The air was stagnant and reeked of a wide variety of unidentifiable odors that, combined with the very low levels of light available, made them all very nervous.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tunnel had widened enough to accommodate a small town. Well, what once had been a town. Old stores and drinking holes lined the street. Some of the windows were boarded up, others were missing completely. Debris and sediment from age old sewage lined the streets, and there was not a sound to be heard.

A slightly rotund man, with his long beard twisted into twin braids, stopped short and held up his hand. He turned his head around so quickly that the braids and tails from his bandana flew straight out. “D’you hear that?”

The rest of the group stopped short and for several moments they all stood perfectly still. Just as a lithe female of the group, a well armed bounty hunter type, turned to chastise the bearded scummer, some dust and dirt skittered off a building at the far end of the street.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
The scent of flesh things threatened to overwhelm its self control. For so long it had waited and now they were almost in reach.

As the flesh things moved closer it signaled the others to prepare to attack. One of the others could not wait and moved too soon, alerting the flash things. Now the targets know that it is near. It signaled the attack.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
Gorit growled loudly. There was no way he was going to back down now. Not when he was so close to staking his claim to this dome.

Krank, one of the scummers hired to watch his back by the Guilders who were sponsoring him, had rushed ahead to inspect the falling dirt. He entered an old gambling den and was out of sight for several minutes when a flurry of gunfire erupted from within. The strobe of the gunfire within, lit up several of the windows, but didn’t reveal anything. When the gunfire stopped the street was quiet once more. The three others remained where they were waiting for Krank to come back and report what he had seen, but when nothing more was seen or heard for several more minutes they grew restless.

“Hey Vype,” Gorit called over to his female bounty hunter. “Why don’t cha go check out what’s up with Krank?”

“Stuff it muscle brain!” she spit back, never taking her eyes off the building her friend had disappeared into.

“Alright then, we’ll all go.” Gorit said.

The remaining two hired guns stared at their employer for a minute, not sure if they were supposed to believe him or not.

“You heard me! Move it!” And to emphasis his point he leveled his brand new shotgun at their backs.

The three of them approached the old den warily, weapons at the ready. There was no further indication of any movement and the silence was tormenting them. Even as they entered the front room the silence was over powering.

Several tables and chairs lay strewn about the room, as well several mummified corpses, the remnants of yesteryear. Krank was no where to be seen.

“Krank!” Gorit called out. “Not funny man!”

Vype edged closer to the far doorway, and Gorit just panned his shotgun around. The bearded scummer, Gorit had never bother to learn his name, moved to far side of the room. As he approached what used to be the bar he had to step over several corpses, and he was careful not to disturb their slumber. When he reached his objective he leaned over to look over the bar.

Gorit’s heart leapt into his throat as the rotund little man let out a blood curdling scream that defied his size and gender. Spinning to face the new threat Gorit saw his hireling being pulled over the bar and out of sight.

On instinct he began pumping solid slug shells into and through the bar in an attempt to kill whatever it was.

Vype also turned to face the threat. From her vantage point she could see behind the bar. The sight that met her eyes caused the veteran to hesitate. When she finally began to bring up her boltgun to bear something shot out from the far room and struck her in the left temple. She never even let out a scream.

That was all it took. Gorit broke and ran back out into the street.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-
The flesh things responded just as it had anticipated. It was good to feed once more, but it needed more. With a simple gesture the others began to pursue the survivor. It was only a matter of time.
-=-=-=0=-=-=-