The Old City

0.40: Marcus vs Marek Part 1

The ground rushed toward Marcus. Panicking, he pushed Marek away and his right hand released 

"Berriss!" he shouted, gathering the faint breeze coming through the entrance into his palm. He tied the gust into a knot and brought it ahead, facing downward. The cold tile sped relentlessly forward, but with a snap Marcus released the constrained air. The knot popped, arresting his fall and giving him enough space to land on his two feet.

The storeroom was larger than he ever imagined. Massive crystals hung suspended in the air to shine a soft yellow light. Floor to ceiling cylinders of brick littered the cavern and went on for a mile. Each bore a painted mark like grain or water or swords. They really do have everything down here.

More grunts were scattered about the cavern floor, their eyes now drilled on Marcus whose hands curled around his weapon.

"Which of you wants to go first?" he asked.

Two of them stepped forward as though to answer his question. One had a mace while the other apipe. They lashed out together but were not coordinated. Their movements were scattered, easy to deflect, and neither used aura to strengthen theirblows.

Marcus stepped into the mace-wielding man as he brought down a heavy blow from above. With a twist, he placed Schnitter's butt on the ground and used it as a lever against the man's arm to divert the swing. He yanked the halberd back and cut deep into his foe's arm, then ducked as the pipe user barely grazed his hair.

He always kept an eye on Marek in the background. The gang lord had fallen several yards away and having been surprised, he hadn't broken his fall as gracefully. Nevertheless, afew bruises would not keep the Lord of the Silver Bears from the fight.

"Come on boys," Marcus taunted. "You can do better than this!"

Three more came at him this time. He parried and dodged each of their attacks. He lashed out with quick, surgical precision to their necks and ankles, dropping each, then turned to Marek.

"How the Hell did you find this place?" Marek shouted. He'd grabbed ablade from his nearest man and began to swing it in a heavy arc. His eyes glowered with hatred. "This is the second time we've crossed paths and by now you must know who I am. Do you have a death wish?"

"Absolutely not. If I did, I'd be topside against Lucien. As i t is, you're not half as scary."

The gang lord lashed out with his wicked blade aimed for Marcus's neck. Marcus twitched Schnitter into a deflection and the whole chamber rang with the force of their clash. His movements were fast and sharp as any soldier Marcus had trained with.

"What are you all lookin' for?" Marcus asked between breaths. "Why attack the storeroom at this moment?" Aglimmer of recognition flashed in Marek's eyes as they locked weapons again. "You think these are what, swords? Shields? You really don't know a fuckin' thing."

"There's only one way to find out."

His body light with the weightlessness of magic, Marcus shimmered t o the nearest box and slashed the lid off. It was brimming with crystals - yellow, red, blue - of such quality and size he hadn't seen since goin' through a navy barracks. 

"There are hundreds of them," Marcus realized, digging his hands through the haul. "Is every box full of this shit?" 

Marek smiled. "They've hoarded it for centuries. We don't have enough time to take i t all —they'll come down and make it imposibleot get backni -os wer'e takin everything we can find and getin' out

"What's more valuable than drugs?" Marcus mused, mostly to himself.

"It's worth at least ten million gold. Lucien and I will be funded for the next twenty years. We can take anything that bastard Timoleon throws at us. We can take anything you throw at us too, though I wish I didn't have to. You could save us a lot of trouble and join my side, Mister No Name. You're strong enough to shift the tides. I have powerful lieutenants but with you, we can take control of the whole First Ring."