Wanted Dead

You can call me Callum. That’s my given name, by the way, not a pseudonym. Not like the name I gave to this shit hole I’m staying in with my fiancée. I keep a lot of extra names around, just in case. Easier to remember than when you have to come up with one on the spot.

There I was, standing in the corner of this room, looking into the scrap of mirror that had, at some point, possibly been a shred of mirror instead! I was trimming my beard, though there’s little to discuss on my five ’o’ clock shadow. I pulled back my short blond hair, curls flitting back into place without anything to hold them back. I don’t go out of my way to look like a tough, mostly because I’m not. But I have a certain roguish charm, at least, my fiancée says so.

The inn smelled of fish, but most things smelled of fish this close to the docks in the Craft Ward. I figured if I took a sledgehammer to the four rooms that made up what this inn called its vacancy I could make enough space for a single comfortable bedroom.

Burrowsmouth was like that, chilly as hell in the fall and the buildings were huddled together for warmth, squeezing up into stacks of stone that pumped all their heat into the air with smokestacks. Acrid fog slunk along the streets like a league of slugs. This probably presented a problem for shorter folks, such as my partner, but didn't block the scenic view out into a piss reeking back alley from my window.

I didn’t bother taking in that vista, rather I focused my attention to the bed, where my fiancée was laying. A nude goblin on your bed isn’t the worst thing to find a hotel room, that’s for certain.

Jill was, and is, my fiancée, despite everything that’s about to happen. Describing her is difficult. She was like a crowbar just off the anvil. Endlessly useful, good at hurting people, and hot as all hell.

Like most goblins, she had dark green skin. The texture in places was rough, but she was mostly free of the skin tags your average goblin came with. Freckles adorned her face, chest, arms, and ass in vast quantities, creating darker patches where they featured.

Her big floppy ears pointed out, and her fluffy auburn hair was pulled into two pigtails which, regardless, still let the mass of messy locks curl over her slick back. She wasn't what you'd call toned, pretty chubby really. This fat emphasized her breasts a bit, but really most of it went to her ass. I could get two handfuls of those cheeks and still have flesh to spare.

Her body's smooth skin was fluffed with a lack of shaving, a pretty basic goblin tradition. I didn't mind it, her bush was a forest I could get lost in for days anyway.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked.

“Da brochure!” She tapped the unfolded paper she had spread out before her. She was laid on her belly, her legs kicking in the air as she scanned the pages.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve been to Burrowsmouth.” I said, sitting down beside her. The bed was small enough that even just a human and a goblin made a cozy fit.

“Yea, but dat’s fah work, ainnit?” She said, turning her head. Her deep amethyst eyes gazed up at me. “We oughta cum ‘ere for our ‘unnymoon! We could see da Temple Seg-ner!”

“Seigneur. It’s Melodic.”

“Whusit mean?”

“Pfft, I dunno.” I shrugged. “If we honeymoon here, we should find a better place to stay. This ain’t much of a honeymoon suite.” This place had you paying for your room by the hour, so I’d say it was for much shorter term bouts of love.

Goblins weren’t as keen on lovemaking as the stereotypes made them out to be. However, by no means were they a naturally monogamous species. It was odd that Jill agreed to be my fiancée, since marriage wasn’t a concept shared by her people.

From her explanation, they make breeding into its own holiday. Casual sex is fine and all, and pretty common, but they also had these big orgies in their warrens twice a year. They’re apparently very popular tourist traps, but I don’t know if it’d be my scene.

"We c'n make it one!" Jilly teased, flashing her serrated teeth and licking across them as she wiggled her butt.

Jill was more caked up than a rooftop birthday party, and had a dense aroma of sweat. Goblins burn pretty hot, and she was no different. I felt her skin under my palm as I dragged it from her shoulder blade down across her asscheek. "Possibly..."

"We ain't 'eading out for a bit, c’mon..." She flashed her teeth again. She had such a cute face. That long pointed nose and the deep purple eyes, lavender pupils on dark violet scleras. Freckles adorned her, and despite the sharpened shark-like teeth, she was very kissable.

So I kissed her! Our lips met gently, and I felt the tips of her teeth with my tongue as I caressed her back, then I parted from her and stood.

I stripped off my vest and unbuckled my pants. I could feel my cock down my pant leg, aching to get out. It was a relief when it finally stood free, throbbing in the dim candle light that she had been reading by.

Getting onto the bed, I got onto my knees behind her and spread her ass, pushing my face against her crotch. She let out a slight gasp as my tongue dragged across her taint. I tasted up to her pucker and poked at it, licking her sweat and breathing in the smell of her sweaty body.

I pushed my mouth downwards, back across her taint and to her furry labia, dragging my tongue between the puffy lips and across to the clit, which I kissed and poked and caressed. She was all sighs and whimpers as I worked. I pushed my way inside and enjoyed her further, her tight pussy already slickening with the mix of her own lubrication and my saliva.

While I wasn't always certain of my work, the way she said, "Fuck me..." gave me the confidence to pull back and get onto my knees.

She pushed the brochure off the bed and raised her ass, sitting on her knees too. She grinned back at me as I positioned myself over her. I never left foreplay up to chance, and got to reap the rewards. The head of my cock slid into her easily, spreading her tight shortstack pussy out as I pushed into the slick hole.

"By da saints, Callum..." She sighed. She put a hand to her cheek and leaned forward onto it, watching me as I worked my way forward.

I didn't shove right in, I felt every inch being pulled by her flexing cunt. Her tightness around my girth wasn't just plush, but damn hot, like shoving my cock into an oven. Goblins burned hot, like I said. Calling the feeling unpleasant would be... extremely inaccurate.

I couldn't resist, and shoved the rest of my cock in once I was only halfway in, the medial girth of my shaft spreading her wide and plugging me into her at the base with a nice meaty plap of bare skin meeting bare skin.

"Gah!" Jill shouted. She reached forward, grabbing the weathered bed frame. "Ya could warn a gal..." She grumbled through gritted teeth.

"I could..." I muttered out. Then I pulled back. It was a struggle, every pull having to force itself back through inches of tight hot cunt that desperately didn't want to let go. Goblins weren't as fixated on breeding as stereotypes held, but nobody told Jill's pussy that.

I pushed back in without even getting halfway out, and decided to entirely give up on the full length. This was happening right here, in the little circle of warmth and pleasure we had built for ourselves in a shabby old hooker's inn.

I plunged in and pulled out as far as I could, picking up pace and heat as our flesh met again and again. Loud plaps filled the room as my force got to a steady pace. My hips were going on their own, there was only so much my brain could interfere with.

My hands rode up from her ass to her love handles, and I squeezed, working out another moan from my girlfriend. It came out cracked and embarrassed, as though her hot body wasn't begging for cuddling and petting. I pulled her back into my thrusts now, adding to the intensity of the loud smacking sex.

My balls swung and patted her soft bush with each impalement of her cunt. She was happy to take it, letting out short barks of moans in time with my own grunts. I wasn't the type to let it all out at once.

Another reason I don't know if I'd go to a goblin orgy was that I'd probably need to bring hearing protection. When I felt her tighten and instinctively went to push and rub her clit with two fingers, extending the orgasm, the sounds of our sex were entirely drowned out by her loud moan of exertion.

That was when I pulled her back. Both hands on her sides, I pushed myself back to sit on my knees, then entirely laid up against the backboard of the bed.

The thrusting didn't ease even as she gasped and started giggling from the sudden shift of position. One thing that I didn't always appreciate about my girlfriend was how heavy she was, but my muscles weren't in much control anymore of what they were doing. My legs were spread, and I was thrusting into her as I held her over my body.

Hot grunting sex continued, the bedposts squeaked as they scratched back and forth across the shabby wooden flooring. The mattress bounced below me, bent around the firm pressing of my feet into the sheets. I was only supporting my hips, exhaustedly ramming upwards into her.

She was still giggling, lost in a fit of pleasure as she was used like some kind of high end sex doll, my hips meeting her ass again and again, her nude body rocking up and down. I kept a hold on her hips, but her breasts were bouncing up and down across her chest, perky things slick now with the sweat of sex.

I felt a pulse in my prostate and hilted inside her, grunting and grinding, then thrusting a few more times as I suddenly finished. I felt the shot of spunk work its way up my cock and shoot out into her. A slight cat-like mewling followed as my cum filled her cunt and was accepted into her body.

Breeding between races was very rare, so I didn't take much precaution. On the other hand, I didn't think I'd mind having another reason to propose to my partner, but that was a lot of cerebral thinking that I really couldn't manage as I laid her back against me and held her.

My arms wrapped around her, and we kissed again, holding each other in this freshly warmed up room, filled with the aroma of lovemaking.

About twenty minutes later, we were out the door.

Sir Ren Everwrought. A man I would soon come to know of and hate immensely. His place was our target, and it was on the other side of town. The job was supposed to be easy, there was some kind of party the Lord of the city was hosting, which meant that all the rich folks should have been there.

Should have being the operating phrase in that sentence.

Hindsight's twenty-twenty. I shouldn't have taken the gig to start with. I work fine under deadlines, it's one of my strong suits, but I didn't even have the chance to scope the place out, let alone figure out how to get there.

I wasn't used to Burrowsmouth's streets either. I slunk along with Jill in tow, heading through the craft ward and up through the center. I avoided the temple in particular. I didn't want any of those chicks to recognize me at the moment. Any of the really open areas were too likely to have eyes anyway.

What I didn't avoid were cops. Coppers were few and far between, I was more likely to see a lamplighter on any given street than a night watchman, but when I did see one, I simply walked by him.

What I had figured out was that cops, by default, assumed everyone was guilty of something. But, because everyone was guilty, everyone was about the same level of guilty until proven otherwise, so drawing attention to yourself by ducking into alleys, or hiding behind corners, well. That just makes a copper want to take time off of smoking in an overhang to ask pertinent questions, such as "So why all the lock-picks, you a locksmith pal?" and "Nice dagger, and is that a blood stain I see! Well, you have a butcher's guild license on you, buddy?" and "Well, what a nice bunch of smoke bombs up your jacket, you got a prank in mind, sonny Jim?" Not exactly what I wanted to deal with when I had to get this job done before Midnight, and hopefully be out of the town before sunrise.

Burrowsmouth was broken up into these wards, big sorts of neighborhoods. The central ward was where we were stuck, and the King's Ward was where we were heading next. That's where the local lord lived, in an old castle that was made when this place was just a city-state under the old empire, back just before they had to install ballistas to kill the dragons who ran said empire. So there were walls around the city, but also around the King's Ward. Not just that, but it was on a kind of raised land, like a shore-side cliff, but wrapping around the whole of that neighborhood.

I wasn't a geologist, so I didn't know why it was like this. There were carriage paths built into the side, with fencing at easy slopes so rich folks could descend into the filth of the town to stomp on poor people. Or whatever it is rich people do on the weekends.

The problem it was presenting was that we weren't rich people, nor did we look it, and likely couldn't get past the guards. Even the drunken stable boy and maid routine wouldn't cut it, given the sleek clothing me and Jill were wearing. Jill wouldn't go for that plan anyway, last time she had to bite a chunk out of someone's thigh, and that gets right up a watchman's ass.

"I could climb dat." Jill said, with not just confidence, but certainty. The cliff side was certainly not clean cut. It looked like even I could get about a story off the ground before falling and breaking my neck. The stone wall above didn't look too clean either.

I pulled my satchel around. This job was infiltration, not anything I’d need to be very diplomatic on, so I brought just about everything I had. My rope, some smoke bombs, specialized infiltration tools such as a glass cutter. The basics for asset reallocators.

Jill bit down on the rope, holding it tight between her jaws, and dug her claws into the walls. She scurried up the wall like a squirrel, throwing herself from handhold to handhold and digging her bare toes into the cliff face before she was scaling the wall proper. By that time, I couldn't exactly see her through the dark fog.

The central ward wasn't as stench ridden as the craft ward, it was homely, and there was more sea fog here. Mixing mists rolled across the ground, unfurling like ribbons, and puffing up. Steam drifted from nearby sewer grates, the heated composting of whatever washed off the streets warming the rats and small-time thieves that made the drain pipes their homes.

I was very glad I was neither of those in some aspects, though freezing my nuts off in the sea salty air wasn’t a treat either.

There was a thump as the end of the rope hit the ground. I wrapped it around my hand, took some pitons out of my jacket, and worked my way up.

Once at the top, I smelled nothing but the fresh crisp autumn air. My eyes drifted to Castle Burrowsmouth, and beyond it, the band of Nyx in the sky, shimmering dull light across the sparkling sea. It was a half moon night in mid-fall, and cold as hell.

I looked over the King's Ward, and I saw the glimmering lights adorning the streets. The pockets of warmth from windows among manors, mansions, and other fine old money housing. The salty sea air still permeated, but I don't think you could escape that unless you drove a mile out of town.

“It’s pretty beautiful…” I muttered, glancing at my fiancée.

"Alright, so where we headin'?" Jill propped herself up between two battlements.

A pout flashed across my face before I pulled out a sketched map I got from the damned witch. If anyone would know what a city looks like from above, it ought to be a witch, right? They fly, or something. Despite that sound logic, the map was crap.

After a few seconds of staring at the squiggles and inscrutable medical professional handwriting, I crumpled it. “It’s some two story manor on Fig Way. Gimme the brochure you got.”

Jill pulled it from somewhere on her person. It was warm and slightly damp, but I opened it anyway. The city map was pretty prominent. I decided to look over it and get a vague idea of where we were going based on the street names. After I had done so to my satisfaction (meaning that I had decided I’d wing it), I slid the brochure into my satchel.

“I think I know where we’re going. Let’s head down.”

“You think you know?”

“I think a lot, Jill. It’s the reason you keep me around!” I spread my arms with a smile.

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night…” Jill pulled the rope off the other side of the wall, tied it about the inward bricks, and threw it over.

I climbed, landing gently on some grass alongside the street. I made sure the coast was clear before getting standing, and then tugged the rope a few times.

There was a sudden thud, a brick landed a few feet away from me, the rope falling with it. After a few seconds had passed, there was a muffled sound of cracking wood and a smattering of leaves. I looked at the bush where Jill had landed..

"Not my worst landing!" Jill said, none the worse for wear.

"What do we even pay our taxes for if they don't take care of civic construction?" I said, rerolling the rope.

We snuck through the streets now. It wasn't the time for nonchalance anymore. The default guilt of anyone who didn't look rich enough to buy a cop off was far weightier in a neighborhood like this. We darted from pool of darkness to pool of darkness like an octopus just after high tide, and kept off the main thoroughfares. Coppers usually didn't carry lanterns in well lit places, so it was up to Jill's extraordinary night vision to spot any badges before we moved.

Based on a cursory examination of the terrible scribble map I had, and cross referencing it with the street sign directly to my left, I realized that I was now standing just in front of Everwrought’s place.

It looked old, but well upkept. However, there was a problem.

The lights were still on.

“Ugh! Is the asshole havin’ a piss-on-the-poor party!? Should be at that stupid ball the stupid Lord chump’s throwin’!” Jill threw her arms out at the manor before letting them fall.

"Hey, we've worked around parties before! Remember the Ryder gig?"

Jill looked away as she thought, a small smile growing on her face, "Do you think dey'll have dem little meat bun things here too?"

"That's the spirit!" I slapped her on the back, "This gig is all about improv. That's why it's payin so well."

“It ain’t payin’ well at all!” Jill snapped.

It wasn’t. Our client was a witch. Witches don’t exactly do money… “She’s going to give us a load of potions, stuff we can hock in the next town we’re in. It’ll be worth it! Plus, it’s just get in, grab it, and get out. Easy!”

“What if some broad’s wearin’ the mark?”

“She said that probably won’t be happening. It’s magical, or something.” I shrugged, “Listen, I already agreed to do the job! No backing out, that’s our MO!”

Jill grumbled at that, but I took the first step around the manor.

We made our way to the back. There was something odd, though. No guards. No dogs. No servants, either. The back of the house was dark, and the garden wasn't even set with candles. Something about it set off my gut. Had I more time, I may have thought it all through, but... then Serene would've died anyway, so maybe it was for the best that I tried not to think about it and let Jill climb the house.

One of the bathroom windows was dark, but locked. That didn't take much time with my tools. Second story work wasn't my favorite, but I was able to lodge myself against the wall and the sill. Jill was hanging off of the edge without much effort. I slid my tools into the rim of the window pane and worked at the metal intricacies.

"Locks are like women..." I mumbled.

"Are dey?" Jill said, a bit louder than I was expecting.

"Uh. Yeah." I responded, losing focus.

"How?"

I paused for a few moments, and then leaned forward, "I'm gonna open this window."

"You do that."

It was a few moments more before I had the window open. It took some wedging, but I climbed through, followed by Jill.

Poking my head out of the bathroom we found ourselves in, I couldn't see much. The hall beyond was dark, but there were sounds in the distance, bouncing off of and passing through ancient timber and decor. "Party must be downstairs." I said, stepping out. I listened again.

Jill had great night vision, as mentioned earlier, it was a thing Goblins needed for the dimly lit warrens they usually lived in, but in terms of hearing, I was much keener than my partner, and there was something that bothered me.

"No footsteps."

"Mm?”

"There's no footsteps up here, there's a party going on. Why aren't the servants walking around?" I asked. I didn't bother to keep my voice low, my gut was twisting a bit more, and I felt safer than I ought to have.

"Maybe dey're all downstairs." Jill said, "Just like da Ryder job, right? We just needa find a bedroom with some fancy clothes."

I searched a few rooms down the hall before ending up in a Master Bedroom. The bed was huge, and Jill threw herself onto it. She rolled around on the plush covers as I searched through the dresser.

I heard her rummaging in a drawer and a clatter of metal. I turned, "What'd you find?"

"Nothing." Jill said, shoving some glinting gold thing down her shirt. I decided to ignore it. There were jobs that had perks, and professional asset redistribution certainly had its share.

I stripped down and put on a set of nice looking dress pants and shirt. They only sort of fitted, but I managed to tighten looser spaces with threads and bows I found in the bedside table. I certainly didn't look regal, but I looked good enough to not get comments.

"Nothing in your size." I said to Jill, "Maybe we can check the maid's quarters."

"Oh I bet you'd love tah see me in a maid's uniform."

"It's definitely a tempting thought." I responded. "Just stay behind me for now."

I shoved my clothes into my satchel, being careful not to disturb any of my little bombs, then passed it to Jill before leaving the bedroom.

I stopped in the hall. We were closer to the party, but there were still no footsteps.

With Jill behind me, I walked closer to the main living room, where I expected the party to be. The sound was certainly louder.

The smell was what hit me first, it smelt of sulfur, flowing down the hall in slow waves. The lights beyond were flickering, and danced with shadows across the walls. There was speech and chanting, a droning that filled my ears and passed over me like ice cubes down the collar.

I tasted iron in my mouth. I squatted and slowed, nearly crawling. It didn't feel right. It certainly didn't feel like I was about to walk into some posh party. I held my hand behind me to slow Jill, who fell back into the shadows. I crawled out through the next doorway, to the room where the shadows bounced and the acridity overtook my senses.

We ended up on a balcony overlooking a large hall. It was likely a living room at some point, but the furniture had been set against the walls. A stairway at the opposite end of where I was led down to the main area. A chandelier hung in the middle of the roof, giving light to what was below.

And I really, really wish it didn't.

There was a group of people, somewhere around twenty, each of them wearing hoods to cover their faces, and robes down to their feet. The light was dim enough that the anonymity sort of worked, not like I would recognize any of them anyway.

I could hear someone talking loud, and I crouched down to poke my head through the banister to see directly below.

There was someone, someone I was basically on top of. He was waving a dagger in circles as he spoke aloud, chanting and calling. I'll admit, though, I was not paying attention to whatever the hell he was talking about. I was more focused on the girl.

There was a harpy girl struggling, laid down on a black table. She had bright white feathers and blondish 'hair'. Her sharp features and wide eyes were filled with fear. Straps had been applied to her wings and legs, holding her talons down. The straps were both at her shoulders and at the end of her wings, breaking through feathers that had been roughed up for her capture. I might've taken more note of her body were I not already freaking the hell out.

One thing I did notice, before I yanked my head back and staved off a panic attack, was the glittering ruby around her neck, encased in a black pendant. It had silvery beads that made up the necklace proper, but the design was unmistakable. It was like an open head of sorts, the mouth wrenched open as far as it could go to contain the jewel, with closed eyes.

After my breathing had calmed, and Jill had taken a look, I came to a realization that had my heart drop into my stomach.

"That's the thing the witch wanted us to get."

After a short pause, Jill added, "Fuck."