Silas Epista

by Maneiac

Granite Podium Arc: Part 4 [Rewritten]

A quick sound, something like the crack of a whip, signalled to me that my quickdraw ended. I grinned at the outstretched piece of black metal that was currently off, which then turned into a smile as I repeated the action again and again. My speed was increasing, and so was my accuracy in where I wanted its end to point at. By doing this, I was also getting used to Blowback’s weight and tri-barrel design.

“Tonight marks the third day in this place. I spent all of yesterday doing this, so the gun’s weight is no problem. My accuracy with the quickdraw is increasing slowly but surely, which is good. Now, the only thing left for me to do is synchronize the draw times between Blowback and Precision.” I rolled my neck, getting a satisfying crack from it as I paced about in my cave.

Wergal kept his eyes on me, arms crossed with one foot against the wall so his legs resembled a ‘4’. “Welp, the rumor’s being spread as quick and quiet as it can, Silas. I don’t see the point in you pacing about like that.”

I kicked a large rock, thinking “Fuck you in particular” as I stopped my pacing. Looking at Wergal, I couldn’t help but note the sour face he had. It was almost as if he was constantly remembering the smelliest fart that ever graced his nose, and then about how long it had to have festered in someone’s digestive tract for such a pungent aroma to come about.

“I do this when I’m bored, Wergal,” I explained with a chuckle. “I end up making things worse when I think while pacing; if that even makes any sense to you, that is.” Yawning greatly, I took my seat near the back of the cave again, resting my arms over my knees. “So, anything of interest to report other than that?” I twirled some of my mane with an index finger.

Wergal chuckled briefly, then fixed me with a cocksure gaze. “Who the hell do you think I am? Everything runs like clockwork in here because of me and no one else.” His pride was damn near suffocating. Placing a thumb on his chest, Wergal continued to talk. “You’re becoming quite popular down here, my friend. There’s not a mouth in Rex’s or Dreggen’s Levels that hasn’t said your name once.”

Walking into my cave with the confidence of a cheating poker player, he leaned up against the wall to the right of mine. “Four more days, man. Tension’ll boil somethin’ awful, and then Granite Podium’s getting flipped onto its keister. We’ll be united with our mates, and we’ll bust out of this mountain faster than a convict that found a hole in the prison walls.” Winking at me with a click of his teeth, Wergal did a damn-good job of getting his confidence across with that gesture.

“Yeah, well; I’m no hero, that’s for damn sure. I’ll try to get as many as I can out, but I’m not going to go out of my way. Sunset takes top priority, we garrison the slaves, and then we gut the bosses.” I crunched my claw into a tight fist after saying that, peering at it with a frown. My mind was torn between hunting them down now and stealing their lives, or waiting for the revolution to come so I can do it there. These choices bit into my brain like a mad dog, whose infectious saliva injected itself upon my nervous system and danced a whirlwind of a jig upon each receptor.

In response to this, my left leg began an insufferable rapid tapping of adrenaline-made alertness. My body felt honed, sharpened; everything was closing in and focusing into high definition. Every crackle of torch, every sniff from wandering guards outside my cave, and every falling piece of sediment from the ceiling registered itself within my aural canals; I felt my eyes shift in and out of Draconic Sightline Mode, scanning Wergal and the walls for magical threats.

My brain was thinking of any possible situations that could be hazardous to the well-being of Wergal and I. The most asinine of occurrences stormed my thoughts like a blizzard, freezing over coherency towards the world outside my consciousness every now and then. I shifted on the bed of knives known as the floor, a particularly sharp stone digging into my buttocks as I gruffed and slapped it away after rising a bit.

That stone was good for knocking me out of my stupor of adrenaline, however, and I let out a sigh as my body unwounded. “Right... anyone I should be wary of in the Slaver Guard, Wergal?” I stood back up, dusting my backside off, the ruffling letting me know I was doing a good job at that.

Wergal’s grunt fell in between the constraints of shallow amusement and sarcasm. “Please. Most of the mutts in this hole of a warren think, ‘Spear sharp, stabby stabby.’” He mocked the broken accent of the Slaver Guards with a little bit of spittle, giving himself a dumb accent that growled more words than it should have.

Of course, this butchering of a sentence in such perfect mockery gave me a reason to laugh my ass off. The action was grand enough for me to hunch over a bit, but was ultimately short-lived as I righted my stance again. “That.... that was comedy!” Wiping a tear from my eye, I sighed with a big smile and leaned against my wall again.

Wergal nodded with a wide smile of his own, although his held that same smug characteristic that he seemed to showcase at all times. The air around that guy just screamed ‘Everything is mine for the taking’; or something along those lines. Either way, those were the eyes of a self-entitled person; I knew them based on my life as a mafioso underneath my section’s Don, Jackie Spades.

I rested the back of my head against the wall of rock, feeling my soft mane press up against my skull to provide a nice pillow. “Black hair, gelled forwards with a sideswipe. White suit with black undershirt; giant fancy spade suit symbol on the back with falling bullet shells underneath it. He was rather lanky, too.... such an asshole.” Sighing deeply, getting a good look at the jagged pink scar on Jackie’s face before the image disappeared completely, I looked back at Wergal who was standing with his arms crossed.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Wergal had his eyebrow raised now, somewhat dubious of my actions, no doubt. He walked to stand next to me, resting his head on the wall, coming up to just under my pecs. “Something troubling you? I’m rather interested in what could possibly be bothering a mighty dragon.”

“So he’s not worried about me, but just what’s bothering me? Glad to know this alliance is fragile, at least. I’ll be careful in how much trust I put into him, now.”

“Equis to Silas.” Wergal snapped in front of my face, making me shake my head rapidly and come out of my funk. “Four more days until the big event. Don’t tell me you’re going insane before then.” I was jabbed on the shoulder, but remained solid in my position.

Frowning at Wergal playfully, I holstered Blowback and socked him in the shoulder myself. I blinked at just how hard that punch must’ve been, because Wergal’s jaw found a new home against the stone wall to our right. I was over there in less than a second due to my height, and was pulling him out of the wall with a wince.

“Shit. Wergal, you good man?” The only response my question got was a groan from the half of Wergal’s face that was still embedded in stone walling. Pursing my lips to the side in half parts worry and frustration at the stuck mutt-man, I gave a yank using a little more oomph. I smiled faintly as he popped out of the wall audibly, shaking his head clean of dust and debris quickly like a dog after being thoroughly soaked.

Instantly, I was on the wrong end of a glare. “The hell was that for? All I did was sock you in the arm playfully, you shit.” Wergal yanked his arm free of my hold, growling to himself a bit as he rubbed the arm that was slugged by me in retort to his own punch.

I kept my lips pursed for a bit, then sighed while placing my claws on my hips, starting a short walk around my cave and looking at the Wergal-shaped indent in the cave wall. “I’m sorry, Wergal, truly I am. But I must stress that I hit you ‘that hard’ by accident; I didn’t know the outlet of my own strength, apparently.” I kicked that rock from before with a chuckle as it properly shattered into fragments.

Running a claw through my mane, I looked back at Wergal, who was still glaring at me. “Going by that logic, you should be happy that a hurt arm and face is all you ended up with.” This earned me a short snarl as Wergal reached for the handle to one of his kris daggers.

“Wanna try repeating that with a missing tongue, snake-man,” Wergal retorted nonchalantly, despite his aggravated actions earlier. I frowned a bit at his threat, and continued my casual walk with a roll of the eyes.

“Why would I fight my only means of escape or of seeing my girlfriend,” I asked Wergal with a look of bemusement on my face. “That’s completely unproductive.”

The diamond dog beta merely shrugged and walked off. “Just as long as you know never to flaunt yourself like that again. Until you have your freedom, you do what I say.” This brought a growl from my throat, and a crossing of my arms. Didn’t take long for me to find my original positioning against the back wall, and start playing with Blowback again.

Frowning at being called a braggart, I slid down the wall in preparation to sleep again.

Author's Note:

Yeah, this took too long as well, guys and gals. Once again, I have allowed RP to claim most of my time, but the good news is that Spring Break is here! (After the Godforsaken SAT's...) Having said that, you can expect a chapter for The Fortune of Fafnir's story, and another one for Spaceman with Scales.

It's about One in the Morning, my brain's full of wazoo. G'night and stay tuned.

Comments

[Moongaze14]

Nice to see you're back.

[Black--Soul]

Damn... I hope this two make short work of this d-dog slavers