Magnus Thorne 07

07 – Pistols and dust

The streets of Neverexia were wide, the dusty dirt road baked by the sun, dry and hot. At the sides of the wide street, the porches of houses made of wood hid plush living rooms from sight, even though I could see hints of them through the folded curtains full of decades old dust that had gathered there.

Yes. Dust, at least inside the houses, was a staple of the city. There was something with the style of their internal décor that just begged for dust to accumulate, and it was quite irritating both to me and to my nose. The overuse of fabric, the sofas, the plush chairs… everything collected dust. It did not help that the road itself became a veritable cloud of it whenever a carriage passed through it, lifting little particles of dirt that had not seen rain in years into the air to then fall back onto the houses and the posts.

Where the colors were not washed out by this treatment, and by the sun that shone on them relentlessly – how it did so inside a dungeon escaped me, but it would not be the strangest thing I have seen magic do by a long shot – freshly painted boards and signs led me to what’s called a saloon.

The swinging doors whined as I pushed them, and the smell of alcohol in the morning greeted me. The idea of drinking and then exposing myself to the midday sun, let alone the fact that I don’t like spirits, made me almost nauseous.

Still. I needed to get my bearings and what better place to do that than a bar?

A musical instrument called a piano was stashed in a corner, with a half glass of what I would soon learn to be whiskey inside of it. The pianist returned soon after from his visit to the first floor, and two ladies soon followed him all the way to his seat, looking a bit disheveled.

By the time the mad had started playing, though, the ladies were all but forgotten and had gone back to hanging out at the bar. Which was where I was headed.

“Hello.” I said to the barman. He was cleaning a glass he had retrieved from a table with a small cloth. Interesting thing to note: here they used actual glass for their glasses instead of wooden mugs like they did in the taverns I used to frequent.

Neverexia was a more developed place than most of the world I called my home. I guess it is to be expected, after so many centuries have passed, but it begs the question. Just how would the outside even be, if this is what happened to an isolated city inside a dungeon?

“Hiya, new face.” The man said. “What brings you here?”

“Call it a spiritual retreat, if you like.” I said. “I need to know how to get strong quick, and the medic told me that hunting beasts might just be the way to do it.”

“Ha!” The barman laughed. “That it is. You look like you know how to handle yourself. Why don’t I introduce you to a little group of hunters? They were looking for a fourth member for today’s expedition.”

“Sure.” I said. Nothing could go wrong with that.

“Hey boys.” The barman said after leading me to a table of three. There was an empty chair by the window, and in the other seats were three men dressed like the cowboys the medic told me about.

Hanging from their hips were pistols, and rows of bullets were strapped to their chests.

“Cassidy!” One of the three men said. “Who’s the new face? Friend of yours?”

Cassidy, the barman, looked at me up and down. “Yeah, why not? He’s new to town, and he’s looking to get his hands dirty on some monsters. You still looking?”

“Rustler Ray’s still out.” Another man said.

“The brothel?” Cassidy half asked, half laughed.

“Yeah, you know him!” The first man said, then shrugged. “We are going quite close to the upper portal today Cas, strong monsters there. Do you vouch for the guy?” He asked, pointing at me.

“I can handle myself.” I said.

“You don’t got a gun.”

“You can give me one.”

The three laughed. “This one’s a real piece of work, Cass. Listen, if you die you die. Not on us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Then you’re in.”

“There you go!” Cassidy said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Easy! Boys, gotta go back to making this hellhole of a city a little less serious and a little more drunk! He’s all yours!”

***

The three men were called Randy, Hunter Hank and Max Maverick.

Randy was a slim, tall man in his thirties, and according to the others he was one hell of a marksman. I didn’t need them to explain to me what it meant, although at the time I struggled to understand how a thick piece of metal with no magic whatsoever was a better substitute for a bow or a crossbow.

Hunter Hank was the tracker. He was also quite deft with a blade, and was said to be able to skin an animal or a monster in the time it took Randy to kill one. He did not like me one bit, and spent the entire time eyeing me sideways.

The last one was Max Maverick. A fat, slow fellow possessing some sort of body magic system. He could absorb all the damage he wanted as long as he met his requirements for his skills. Although, it seemed that in the many years the trio had worked together, not only had he never disclosed what the requirements were, but none of the others had managed to figure them out either.

Guns are interesting. They gave me a basic, non-magic one because who even am I? Even then, this gun that I got for free was quite remarkable. I looked at it for a full second before an idea came to my mind.

[Power is available. 12 charges left.]

Nice. Nothing could ever go wrong if I simply said: “This is a normal pistol. | There is nothing special about it.”

[6 charges left.]

I just gave my Power free reign to do whatever it wanted to the gun so that it would become special. And the Power consumed 6 charges to do it. Nothing could go wrong indeed.

“So what?” Hunter Hank said, thinking I was talking to them instead of using my power. “A good gunslinger only needs his gun and his gun only. Magic is for pussies.”

A laugh. “Sure it is.” Randy said, smirking and looking at me. “You don’t need no pistol system to help you. You can handle yourself, can’t you?”

Correction: Randy didn’t like me either. And Max Maverick had not spoken once since I sat with them. For all I knew, he also hated me. Whatever. These guys were just disposable companions to help me understand the logic of this place.

I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m ready to go hunt some beasts.”

“Well then, new face.” Randy said. “Let’s see what the great, what’s-the-name? Let’s see what Magnus Lazarus Thorne is capable of.”