Cassius Lange
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Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 11:00:02 +0000 UTCThe thick white snot bubble in Korvan’s nose popped when I grabbed him by the arm. He slept while leaning against the wall of our club. He opened his eyes slowly, then sighed realizing it was his boss.
Me.
“Always vigilant,” I said, grabbing the doorhandle.
“Long day, boss.”
“Tell me about it,” I said and just as I was about to swing the door open, I stopped, pulled out my cigar, and lit it. I wasn’t ready for the ruckus and crowd inside. Not yet. I was barely able to waddle my way back from the palace and Shieldmother’s beating. My whole body was a monument to pain thanks to her.
I looked over my shoulder. The sun was coming down over the Ashpit, shedding golden rays between the tents and stands.
“Doesn’t look as bad as this morning.”
“The orcs helped all the people. They gave them tents and food and clothes... Nothing for Korvan though. All work for Korvan. All work and no gifts.”
I pulled out my Vaultcoin and told him to lower his hand on it. The ogre raised an eyebrow then did so.
“A hundred gold!” He said, sounding like a squealing pig.
“Aye, and I don’t want any of that poor Korvan shit anymore. I’m paying you like a Royal Guard just so you can sleep and complain all day.”
Korvan nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. He was right regarding the Ashpit, though. The orcs brought new tents, baskets of food, blankets and even helped set the refugees up. The square looked better than before the blackhelms had arrived. It did little to help those whose people were dragged into the war, but at least nobody would go hungry.
Strange times. Nergat the orc warlord was taking better care of humans than the King. It wasn’t a good sign. Things definitely shouldn’t be playing out like that.
“Lots of people tonight?”
“Every night, boss,” Korvan said with an exhausted shake of the head. I stood there for another movement then stomped out my cigar and went inside.
Just as promised, the club was on fire. The island sisters were entertaining orcs, dwarves, goblins, gnomes, humans, and even elves at the podium. Sliding between the glimmering poles, the blue skinned island elves looked like a storm meandering between cliffs. Crackling lightning and steam came off their tattooed bodies, entrancing the onlookers who were showering them in coin.
Spif was at the edge of the podium, playing his lyre and singing a powerful tune that washed over the place, mixing with the cheers, chatter, and applause of the crowd. I noticed Wort’s horns sticking above everyone else. He held a drunk orc in one hand and waved his finger at him and, seemingly explaining something. I couldn’t tell whether the poor green fellow had done anything wrong or the fautar was torturing him with stories of Rev.
A black and white shadow moved between the guests like a haunted banshee. Wherever the shadow moved, new drinks would appear, and empty mugs disappear. Not a drop was spilled, not a single order missed. Fey would only stop long enough to take the next order then swoosh away again. Her waitering skills were beyond anything I’d seen and I had seen plenty of taverns in my time. I guessed I had pushed her way harder than I should have. Well, she didn’t complain…or at least not that much. It all worked out in the end anyway.
My other waiter, Hezak wasn’t as graceful or quick. He was as angry as always, shoving guests, yelling at them, spilling drinks and blaming our patrons for it. Nobody batted an eye though. Most were used to him by now.
Even Ragul.
My vampire bartender was a black storm of perfectly timed movement, filling mugs, clearing trays, washing glasses, taking payments and scolding Rot who, too, drank to defend himself. And was probably too drunk to talk at all. A mouth-watering smell came off the kitchen where Garfor worked tirelessly. All was good in the Midnight Bounties.
“Here he is!” Targa, the new leader of the Loco Bruego clan roared as he saw me push through the crowd.
Fuck no, just pretend I’m not here.
All eyes turned towards me, the island sisters suddenly stopped their dance and even Spif lowered his lyre. A corridor suddenly formed in front of me. The guests moved out of my way, offering a path towards the bar where Targa stood with his closest friends.
“How’s it going,” I said, trying to figure out what was going on. I was used to their usual greetings. People would raise glasses, say something like, “Frank Boss, you great,” and then return to whatever they were doing, but this was something else.
Targa raised his mug and everyone in the Midnight Bounties, including Hezak for some reason, did the same. Only Ragul and Fey remained unmoving.
“To Frank Boss, the man who cut Shieldmother!”
I swallowed hard, and the entire club roared in approval.
How the hell do you already know about it, orc?
“And then fucked her!” Fakoot, Targa’s right hand said, and laughter broke out.
I knew Fey was to my right, but I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see that on her face.
“Frank, the Shieldmother-fucker!”
Don’t.
“Shieldmother-fucker!” Targa roared and the rest of the guests joined in. Applause stormed through the club and Spif strung his lyre.
Fuck it, ride the wave.
“Drinks on the house for everyone!” I yelled.
I saw Hezak roll his eyes and mouth a well-deserved “Fuck you.” Then my Deeproot chimed,
[Your Hospitality skill has increased by 1]
[Adept Hospitality: 4/10]
Well, it wasn’t great. After all this time I thought I’d be higher up but I guess I was a bit too stingy and unforthcoming when it came to paying for drinks and hanging out with my guests. Nothing I couldn’t fix. But considering everything going on, that wouldn’t happen too soon.
The club exploded with a newfound energy. The sisters dove back into their dancing routine and Drogna and Fusha joined in. Storm, water, fire, and earth spells erupted across the podium. The other guests returned to whatever they were doing as I moved to the bar and met with Ragul, Targa, and his entourage.
“I’ve got to hand it to you orcs, you have your eyes everywhere. How the fuck did you already hear about the fight?”
Targa laughed, showing his pointed teeth then shook me by the shoulder. I winced inwardly. The wounds Shieldmother gave me were far from healed.
“Everyone knows,” Targa said.
“Is your cock still alive?” Fakoot asked leaning in.
He was dead serious.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He looked to Targa and the others as if my question was nonsensical.
“Because they say Shieldmother tears cock from ball when fucking.”
I took a deep breath and grunted.
“I didn’t—”
“Yeah, Frank. Is your cock still okay?” Fey asked, slamming down the tray on the bar. Ragul opened his mouth to protest but she continued. “Must have been scary, right? To fuck a woman who can tear you to pieces at any point?”
The orcs laughed loudly at that.
“Watch your mouth, lady,” Ragul said dryly. “He is still your boss.”
“Really, Ragul?” she said and sighed. “Give me a break.”
“I didn’t fuck Shieldmother,” I said, pushing Rot off one of the stools. The duergar was too drunk to take part or even realize where he was.
“I’ll…Uhm… need to take a little break now,” he mumbled and just dropped his ass to the floor, then finally keeled over hugging his mug muttering sweet words to it.
“We only fought.” I said.
Targa flung his mug against the floor and spat. The other orcs did the same, cursing in disappointment.
“She did offer it, though.”
“She offered!” Fakoot said, his scarred green face lighting up.
“And you said no to Shieldmother?” Targa barked.
“Aye.”
“This fucking human! Hear this!” he roared, slapping me on the shoulder. I turned towards Fey, expecting sweet retribution for her accusations, but she was already gone, swooshing between the tables with her tray.
“The biggest human in Sankta Varath, this one here,” Targa continued.
“Let me ask you something, Targa,” I said. “How come you helped all those refugees and traders in the square today?”
The bulky leader of the Loco Bruego smiled again but it didn’t seem like he wanted to answer.
“He is good to all people, Frank. To all. No matter race.”
I knew very well who he meant by he. Nergat, of course, but his name must not be uttered.
“Is he now,” I muttered, taking a sip of the whiskey Ragul had served me. Nergat never did things out of the kindness of his heart, least of all for humans.
“Always Frank, he always does best for Sankta Varath. The Ashpit knows this, but the rest of the city must learn too,” Targa said.
“Must, huh? We’ll, I’ve been to the palace today and I can tell you one thing, those people there don’t think they need help. Least of all from an orc.”
“Ah,” Targa said, shifting in place. “There is always room to learn.”
“Aye,” I said and finished my whiskey.
Targa must have been hanging out with Nergat more lately. No wonder. Since his father died and Targa took over the Loco Bruego, Nergat must have spent some time grooming the new clan leader. An orc like Targa would never utter learned words like that. He was citing his boss.
Ragul poured me another whiskey and I took it to the courtyard and then into the bathouse. I filled up the tub, dropped my clothes to the floor, and slid into the warm, scented waters with a joyful grunt. Since Fey’s healing abilities only helped kill me faster and Tyfus was frequenting the Midnight Bounties so rarely nowadays, the increased healing from the bath would have to do the trick.
Dipped in warm waters and surrounded by its perfumed steam, I fell into a well-deserved nap rather quickly.
I woke to a loud bang that swung the door to the bathhouse wide open. I flinched and grabbed for Mercy, then relaxed realizing who stood in the doorframe.
“It’s almost midnight, Frank,” Fey said with her hands on her hips. “You alright?” Only then did I realize the water was long cold and my skin took on a worrying blue. I got out quickly, grabbing for a towel as Fey looked away.
“Frank! How about a warning?”
“Sorry,” I said, laughing which turned into coughing quickly. Most of my wounds were now barely visible scars, except for the one in the ribs where Shieldmother had sunk her short blade inside me. That one was still very tender.
“I didn’t fuck her, if that’s why you’re here,” I said.
“I know you didn’t,” Fey said.
“Then what was all that drama in the club about?”
Fey shrugged then walked inside, taking me all in. Her skirt and shirt smelled like the Midnight Bounties, which was in stark contrast to the perfumed scent of the bathhouse. Yet, it felt like smelling home, especially on her.
“I just don’t like that they call you that. It makes me…you know? Who am I if you’re the Shieldmother-fucker?”
“Hmm, fair enough,” I said, drying myself off with a towel.
I could sense the light magic in her crackle as she came closer.
“I can’t stop people from calling me that. It’s not really my fault.”
“No, it’s not. Can you put on your pants, please? I can’t talk to you like this,” she said and looked away to stare at the corner. “There’s a time and place for everything.”
“Aye.” Just as I shoved one foot into my pants, a loud, annoying voice filled the bathhouse. “Wait! I’m almost there!” I grabbed for Mercy, tripped over my own pants, and smacked my face against the tiles.
Fey cried out, the runes on her skin lighting up.
“What the hell, Spif!” she yelled.
The satyr was sitting in the corner behind the door with his hand down his loincloth offering us a sheepish smile. I got up, mumbling curses and imagining a dozen violent way to murder the horny little goat-boy.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” he said.
I kicked the door open and pointed a finger outside.
“Out, now. Before I tear those horns off your head!”
“Oww,” Spifykon moaned, his ears drooping.
He waddled his way out and I shut the door again.
“How does he do that?”
“He’s got a decent sneak skill, I think,” Fey said.
I grabbed my pants again and got to putting them on, then stopped midway again.
“Why are you here, Fey? Isn’t Ragul going to throw a fit?”
“I’m on my break.”
“Since when does he let you have breaks?”
“Let me? I take my own breaks.”
“Fair enough,” I said, finishing and putting on my shirt. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think you need to work anymore. I can hire another waiter. I can hire like three more to replace you. I ran into some money today.”
“Really?” she said, sitting down next to me on the edge of the tub.
A mix of purple and light magic crackled between us. The hairs on my arm stood up. There was no pain, just tension.
“Yeah, really.”
“And you’d just give me money for being what? Your occasional romantic interest?”
I sighed. I pretty much ran into that wall willingly.
“How about concubine?”
She gave me a murderous look then splashed some of the cold water from the tub on my shirt.
“How about I drown you in this tub here?”
“How about you try?” I asked with a wink.
Fey raised an eyebrow then jumped off the edge of the tub and pushed me back into it. As I was falling backwards, I pulled her with me and we both landed in the cold water.
I banged my head against the other edge but I hardly noticed. Fey shrieked softly but as she landed on top of me, but then began to laugh and so did I.
She leaned in and kissed me and more light and dark energies crackled around us.
“The gods don’t really like this,” I said.
“Fuck them if they don’t like it. As if I care,” Fey said and leaned in again.
I pulled my arm up her drenched shirt, feeling her warm skin under my fingers. A tendril of white light whipped between my fingers and up my arm, but I didn’t care. She kissed me again and I felt my whole body shake in protest, and yet again, I didn’t care.
“The water is heating up,” I said, realizing the interaction of contrasting magical forces was seeping into our surroundings.
“Good,” Fey said, straightening out and flinging her shirt off.
White runes burned across her skin and her eyes shone blinding light. Thick purple veins spread like cobwebs across my own body, tendrils of black and white whipped about, but we didn’t care. We were offering the gods a big wet middle finger and I was enjoying every single second of it.
I couldn’t tell how long we were in the bathhouse, but I wanted it to never end. Days and months couldn’t have satiated me. Ragul, however, was of a different opinion.
The drow opened the door at one point with his eyes covered and just stood there, waiting to be noticed. I had to tell Fey to stop for a moment and when I did, the Quinta Ecclesiarch shot up and grabbed a towel.
“What the fuck, Ragul? Can’t you knock, man?”
“I knocked, Lady Fey. I have been knocking for ten minutes now.”
“Sorry, Ragul,” I said, grabbing a towel myself.
“How late is it?”
“It’s two past midnight and the club is packed. Hezak is barely able to serve half the guests. It’s mayhem, Master Frank. I need my waiter.”
“I’m coming, Ragul, chill out. Now close the door—”
“And the guests, Master Frank. They’ve been standing outside the bathhouse for a while watching the fireworks. Whatever you did in here, and…well, I dread assumptions, but I’m old enough to make an educated guess what that is, caused a storm of magical energies to spread from the bathhouse, around the Midnight Bounties, and seep into the Ashpit itself. I had to assure everyone it was under control, but people have been asking questions.”
“Shit,” I said, putting my wet shirt back on. “Sorry Ragul. This one’s on me.”
“Yes,” the vampire said and sighed. “Now then, Lady Fey. Please put your clothes back on and join me in the club before our guests become any angrier. I fear they’ll start taking out their frustration on Hezak as he has done to them in the last few hours.”
“On my way, Ragul,” she said and waved him away.
The drow turned to the door, lowering his bony hand on the handle, then stopped and turned around again.
“I dread the consequences to the business. Work and pleasure must not mix, but I can’t say I’m surprised. The sexual tension between the two of you has been a point of great annoyance to me for a while. I only hope now that it is released, it will not be the downfall of us all.”
“Ragul, don’t be so dramatic.”
“Dramatic,” the drow sighed.
He opened his mouth to say something but for a change, he actually stopped himself and just walked out.
“Alright,” Fey finally said, putting on the rest of her clothes. “I really should get back to work. I hate to make the old guy angry.”
“That’s a new one,” I said and Fey smiled.
“He grows on you, I guess.”
“Fey,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her mood shifted quickly and not for the better.
“That’s a new one too. Frank wants to talk. Can’t be good news.”
She buttoned up her shirt and straightened it out.
“Don’t tell the others yet, but I will need to take a little trip soon. It might be a longer one this time.”
“So that’s what you’re like, huh? Ram and scram as they say?”
“Ram and…no, it’s not like that, come on. You know it’s not.”
“Fine, how long?”
“I can’t tell. It might be a week, maybe two,” I sighed and looked into her eyes. “Maybe more than that.”
“What’s this about Frank? The quest? The screams in your head?”
“Aye.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“I need you here. I need you to manage the Midnight Bounties in my stead. I have some extra coin on my hands, and I want you to use it on the club.”
“Why me? Why not Ragul?”
She folded her arms across her chest. The moment of intimacy we had shared now seemed eons ago.
“Ragul is a vampire. I need someone who can take care of daily business, and I only trust you enough to take care of the place.”
“Really nice,” she said. “Good timing to tell me, too.”
“Well…if I had opened with that, I don’t think we’d—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said and I laughed. She breathed out and shrugged. “What can I say other than fine? You do what you need to. I knew it was only a matter of time before you had to handle that damned quest. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“Me neither,” I said.
“When are you leaving?”
“A day or two.”
“A day or two.”
“The blackouts have been too strong. I lose it in the worst moments. The sooner I get rid of it, the better.”
Fey’s face turned milder at that. Her eyes softened and I felt a pang of pity that I didn’t really like.
“Nah, I’m done. I don’t need to hear this,” Spif said, appearing next to the door. “It was nice, though. Bye-bye.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving the two of us in stunned silence.
