Update Four (Episode One)
***
'Alright, Kindra. We have a deal. How do we secure the sandskimmer?'
Kindra smiles, relieved, and takes time to explain the when and the where of the secret rendezvous, as well as how to get there. The plan, as these things go, is deceptively simple. Disable the guard(s) silently, take the vehicle and then rely on Kindra's authority to get you through the gate. In that order. Pursuit is unlikely, as there are just three sandskimmers, and only two are fuelled at any given time. The other one is currently on its way back from Cortica. And, according to Kindra, the buggies cannot catch a sandskimmer on full throttle.
'We will meet up two hours before you are scheduled to meet Elias again. Are you able to keep time?' she asks you.
You pull back your sleeve, slightly, revealing a digital chronometer. She nods. 'Rest up until tomorrow, then, Mr. I've got some stuff to take care of before our "trip".' Shortly thereafter, you curtly part ways, and she leaves The Murderhole. Finally, you have time to breathe. It has been a very, very long day.
You sink into the filthy bed taking up almost the entirety of your tiny room. About half an hour passes before you budge again - seemingly resistant to the repugnant smell that abounds and the sight of suspicious stains on the tattered blanket. Soon, you find yourself rolling the rosary over in your hand again with a steady rhythm. Troubling thoughts flash across your mind, before disappearing into its darkest recesses. Eventually, though, the rolling ceases. You find yourself quite asleep.
***
Two and a half hours. On the dot. That is the rest period your body affords you, before it snaps you out of your slumber, once again. With a silent yawn, you rise from bed, well rested. It is just past ten o'clock. At night. For a moment, you wonder if that rule of thumb actually holds true on Redsea. Is it actually night, out there? You do not wonder overlong, however. It has finally dawned on you that you are, in fact, extremely hungry. Quickly, you decide to accept Elias' hospitable offer of sponsored sustenance. The less you have to dip into your own supplies, the better.
Within a minute, you are on the ground floor of the canteen, sauntering over to the bar. Glasseye stands there, mindlessly wiping a glass and watching you once again. The pitch black orb in his left eye socket eloquently tells the story of his name. 'Hello, Glasseye. Elias has sent word that I am to be given free food and water, yes? I would like both.'
Glasseye's face is totally impassive, though you think you see a subtle curling of lips. He says nothing, but soon has a plate of what look like biscuits in one hand and a metallic cup in the other. Both land in front of you a moment later. You look at the 'biscuits', ashen faced. '... Really?'
The big barkeep offers no response.
You sigh and pick up a biscuit. Immediately, your olfactory senses tell you that the food is not poisoned. It is merely terrible. Ceremonial disgust out of the way, you bite down and chew. You somehow manage to do this several times, before gulping down the murky water in front of you, as if putting out a fire in your mouth.
Laughter erupts behind you, and a voice calls out. 'Well done, stranger! Well done!'
You turn around, slowly. A few metres away, a trio of figures are seated at a small table, playing a generic looking card game. One of them - a young man with seemingly no hair on his head whatsoever, and some very mean looking piercings in his nose and ears - is still laughing.
He stands up. 'My name is Turbo. What's yours?'
You say nothing in response. A tense moment passes, and Turbo begins to get visibly agitated. 'Stranger, what's your name?' You simply continue to watch the bravo intently.
' ... Are you the one with the needler, then? Is it true?' Your eyes narrow.
'Stranger, I want to see your needler. Show us your needler, don't be a cunt.' There is now total silence in the canteen, Turbo excepted. 'Come on, we won't steal it. Just show it to us. We all want to see it.' He is clearly getting impatient - perhaps even anxious. You sense trouble.
'You're not being very friendly, stranger. I fucking hate unfriendly people. Come on, why don't you want to be friends with us?''
That said, Turbo comes around from behind the table and begins to walk toward you. His friends also rise. A second later, the tell-tale glint of a blade propels you into action. Turbo's knife is wickedly curved, and you more than half suspect that his fellows have hidden weapons, too. But you do not draw your needler. Instead, you explode from your seat, like a viper. Turbo was about to say something, but instead stops mid-step. It is far, far too late, by that point.
He thrusts his weapon arm forward clumsily, instinctively. Your right hand catches his right at the wrist. You forcefully turn it clock-wise, and the knife drops almost immediately, as Turbo's wrist is smashed beyond repair. His scream is not yet run its course when your follow up left hand strikes his right elbow and destroys the joint. Turbo falls to the ground, shrieking and desperately nursing two open fractures on the same arm; a grotesque sight. One of the men who was with Turbo sprints out of The Murderhole as fast as his legs will carry him.
The other is stuck like a deer in headlights. There is a smaller knife in his hand. Absurdly, he throws it at you - needless to say, you easily dodge the makeshift missile. As you advance on him, he attempts to throw a few haphazard punches at you; all parried without ceremony. Then you lunge forward and grab him by the back of the head with one hand, while punching his ribs with the other. Nearly all are broken in moments. Before he can fall to the ground, though, you take the opportunity to kick the thug in the right knee, breaking it for good measure. The fight is over. Only anguished cries remain.
You look around. The patrons of The Murderhole stare at you wide eyed. Glasseye approaches, arms raised.
'All right, stranger. It's all right. Don't worry about these boys, we'll take care of 'em. Everybody here saw they drew blades before you decided the matter. It is settled.'
You nod, in response. He comes closer and leans in.
'Look, now you can either go back to your room, and then see Elias when you're supposed to tomorrow, or you can go outside and have a look at what this shithole has to offer. I don't really care which. Either way, I'd stay off the floor for a while. That kid might come back with friends. Maybe you don't need protection - but you never know, you know?'
Do you... go back to your room and wait for the time to pass?
OR
Do you... explore Iris a bit, before you have to tearfully bid it farewell?