The Plaza Showdown

	Finch ascended the stairs of the bar, pack on his back and brass knuckles clutched in his hand. The thud of his boots against the floor blending in with the thuds from the various rooms, he came to the door that his key unlocked. Stepping in, he was greeted with a lodge of bare necessities, a bed in the center with an oaken chest at the foot of it and a dresser with a mirror were the only pieces of furniture in the room. Locking the door behind him, Finch set his pack upon the bed and his brass knuckles on the dresser, before undoing his boots and belt. Stripping out of his clothes, he tossed the scout’s clothes into a corner, relieved to be free of their tight embrace and eager to return to his old style.

	Opening the pack, he was greeted by the blades of his claw, pitted and stained dark red as ever, as he removed it and set it out on the mattress. Digging deeper, he found a solid white shirt, followed by a leather vest covered in scale mail that he slipped on, respectively. Next, he found a pair of thick leather pants, knees and shins reinforced with metal plates, that he set aside along with a leather sheath and belt. A pair of leather boots and linen socks emerged as he equipped them, pants following them. Deeper still, a gray, cotton jacket with armored sleeves and mantle, fur decorating the collar and cuffs, remained. Finch took out the folded jacket, slipping one arm through the less armored left sleeve, and slipping another arm through the other sleeve, all the way to a sewn on metal gauntlet. Finally, at the absolute bottom of the pack, was the visage of his helm, teeth gleaming still as he planted it upon his head.

	Finch had just finished wrapping the belt around his waist as shouting, different from the typical cheering of fights, emerged from the floor boards. The pounding of feet on the stairs was next. Knocking resounded on the doors of the hall, before sharp impacts and shouting followed. It was time to go.

	Finch grabbed his brass knuckles from the dresser and stuffed them into his pockets before moving back to the bed. As he moved, he began to roll up the left sleeve of his jacket in preparation for his claw. Reaching the bed, he thrust his arm into the red, metal box of his namesake, just below the elbow. His fingers collided with the three inner mechanisms that controlled the claw, slipping into their old positions. Lifting his claw, he tested each digit before gripping them together as hard as he could. Just as the knocking hit his door, Finch already grabbed his bag and was dropping out the window. By the time the door was busted open, Finch had already dropped into the alleys to the sides of the bar and disappeared.

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	Roxland was furious.

	They had just missed him.

	They had just missed the man she had been dreaming of catching for three weeks.

	She ripped apart the white shirt the incubus guards had brought from his room and tossed it behind the bar. Roxland looked around the bar, trailing the faces of her “elite” guard in the room. Tobias was among them, his face indifferent. Each of them had been promoted for their hand in helping her invasion succeed without any complications. She began wondering now if the promotions she reaped on them were uncalled for due to their incompetence.

	She looked at and through them at the same time, scanning the rest of the bar with wide, furious eyes. Roxland needed to vent her exhausting frustrations on someone. Someone needed to pay for this failure. Someone needs fry as an example for defying her.

	Her eyes stopped on the barman, his face as nonchalant and seemingly unknowing as when she burst in, guards in tow, demanding Lovejoy’s person. {“Someone needed to give him that key.”} she thought. She walked to the bar, pointing to the barman. “You. I need to ask you a few questions outside.” The barman shrugged his shoulders, following Roxland as the incubi guards followed close behind.

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	Finch emerged past the market plaza, on the same route he had taken leaving the city towards the irrigation canal. Looking back at the bar from an alley corner, he witnessed a crowd gathering around the commotion at the bar. Ahead of them, he witnessed Roxland, wearing that same frustrated look from earlier, talking with Rick, who shrugged or shook his head whenever she spoke. Behind him were several incubus guards, Tobias amongst them.

	Finch’s helmet’s jaw moved along with his own as it dropped. Tobias had changed drastically. Instead of his normal short stature, he was now as tall as Finch at 6’, and with a thicker, more muscular frame; he could most likely beat Finch in any competition of strength. His hair was jet black and swept to one side, parted by two horns that curled backwards and then forwards like a ram, his face chiseled with solid and sharp features like a devil. He wore dark leather armor with a breastplate guarding his chest like the other guards, a bastard sword resting on his shoulder. A tail would occasionally flap left and right behind him, reaching almost to the ground.

He had fallen far.

	Finch gasped as he watched as Roxland dismissively closed her eyes and waved a hand towards Rick, prompting the guards behind him to restrain him or beat him as he struggled in their grasp. {“Conspiracy for helping a fugitive most likely.”} he thought as Tobias placed manacles on the barman’s wrists before moving towards Roxland, saluting before beginning to speak with her.

Finch looked to a nearby lamp, removing the second bomb he had stolen that day from his loot bag.

He had to do something.

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	“Lady Roxland, we can take the prisoner to the dungeons as you command.”

	“Good.”

	Roxland waved away Tobias as she looked to the crowd, still watching the affair. A murmur was growing amongst them, various individuals looking to each other. Several questions raced through her mind, {“Are they doubting my rule? My judgements? Do I need to calm them down every time an arrest occurs?!”} She turned to the crowd and raised her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen I assure you nothing unusual is occuring! We are simply investigating the whereab..outs...of…” Roxland trailed off as she noticed the crowd turning inwards towards themselves. Then she saw what they were looking at.

	She saw the bright flames of her quarry.

	He moved past the remainder of the crowd, stopping a distance away from her. He was just as she had seen weeks ago, a gray jacket, leather pants, only now he had his claw equipped and helmet covering his face. Flames that had been a golden sheen earlier were now a deep crimson, a font running through his helmet’s teeth. He held his arm behind his back, obscuring it from view.

	“Lovejoy.”

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	Lovejoy stood in front of the crowd, facing Roxland, Tobias, and three other fallen incubi guards, Rick still in their grasp. Roxland fixed her pose, sticking out a hip and placing a delicate hand on it. “Well well! Speak of the Crab and he shall come! How very good to see you AGAIN Love~joy.” Lovejoy stood still as she continued. “Why didn’t you tell me you had such a lovely and joyful name~?”

	“Let him go Roxland. He didn’t know anything about anything.” the iron jaw moved with his own, giving him an inhuman visage.

	Tobias scoffed before interrupting, “Oh please Lovejoy. You know damn well everyone in this town.”

“I may know a lot of people Tobias but I certainly don’t know all of ‘em. Luckily I know YOU well enough to know that you hate EVERYBODY in this town. You’d take any chance you can get to fuck someone over, even if you never met ‘em before.” One of the guards, an incubus Lovejoy recognized as Marlow, nodded.

“Well. He’s got a point there.”

Lovejoy pointed a single digit of his claw directly at him. “You shut your fucking face Marlow. You’re no better than him. Judging by your physique, you’re one of the people who have enjoyed the takeover the most. A collaborator of the invasion perhaps?” Murmurs grew louder in the crowd behind Lovejoy. “Hell! All of you up there with the exception of that fat asshole,” Lovejoy pointed his digit at Rick, “look like they’ve been enjoying the downfall of this place a little too much!” All of the guards looked towards each other, confirming their guilt while Roxland simply smirked.

“Clever. Very clever of you to figure out Lovejoy.”

{“She’s pissed again already!,”} he thought, {“Let’s push it a bit further.”} Lovejoy scoffed, chuckling at the response before turning to Roxland, waving his claw. “Roxland, for fuck’s sake I can tell you obviously care about this friggin’ place. I mean. Come on, why would you want to promote these bunch of treacherous yackos?”

Roxland scowled at the accusations and insults. “You sure talk big despite being surrounded by guards Lovejoy. Trying to put me on the spot? What the hell’s given you the right to be so accusatory?” Lovejoy looked all around through the crowd, scanning the various faces. Most of them held a look of dread, fear; a few even backing away slightly as his gaze shifted. But as he looked, he saw something else in their eyes, hidden by the fear.

Respect.

Lovejoy directed his gaze back to Roxland, shifting his claw so the top two blades were facing frontward. Lovejoy smiled dumbly at Roxland’s frown, stating happily, “I don’t know.”

“And next, what DO you have behind your back? Hm? A ring for our inevitable marriage? Because it better be for all of our sakes.”

“Ummm.” Lovejoy looked over his shoulder, eyeing the bomb’s still long burning fuse with annoyance. How long was that damn fuse going to burn?! He looked back to Roxland. “Nothing?”

“Well then Lovejoy. If you really are holding nothing, let me see your hand. Now.” Roxland’s face creases were growing ever deeper in annoyance from being toyed with. She was getting tired of Lovejoy’s comedy routine and he knew it. Tobias and the other incubi wore varying emotions, from serious, to confused, to amused. Lovejoy quickly dropped the bomb between two of the claw’s digits like a lacrosse ball, hidden from Roxland by a well placed third digit. He raised his right hand in front of him, flexing the fingers and wrist with smooth movements.

“See? Nothin’. Nothing up my sleeve because, I don’t HAVE a sleeve on this arm.” Lovejoy’s antics earned a hearty chuckle from one of the guards, drawing Roxland’s gaze with a twitching finger clawing at her hip. Lovejoy mentally chuckled to himself, {“Ohoho she’s so pissed.”} Lovejoy smiled softly, silently praying the bomb didn’t go off next to him.

Tobias stepped forward, bastard sword dropping in front of him from his shoulder. “Finch, you can’t honestly expect to joke or intimidate yourself out of this one. And seeing how you were just in the bar…” he raised his blade and took a ready stance, “...you’re probably seeing double too.”

Lovejoy’s smile disappeared as he shifted his gaze to Tobias. He felt buzzed, but certainly not smashed. “Tobias, even if that accusation were true, I got two weapons here…” He quickly drew his saber and pointed it at the guard captain in one smooth motion, the sheath and blade still ringing. “...One fer each of ya.”

“ENOUGH!” Both Lovejoy and Tobias flinched at Roxland’s sudden screaming. Tilting his head and lowering his blade, Lovejoy looked back to Roxland. She pointed a finger at him, declaring, “Finch Lovejoy, as ruler of Van Rourke, I hereby place you under arrest in MY authority. You have one chance to lay down your claw and come quietly!” Lovejoy adjusted his claw’s digits to roll the bomb over, spotting the fuse about to run out.

	He quickly looked forward and raised a finger. “Question on the authority part! Does it count as a STATE or a PERSONAL affair?”

	Roxland gestured for the guards to advance, each bearing their weapons of demon silver. Tobias’ blade was the only one made of steel. Lovejoy quickly turned his claw, swinging it up into the air as he shouted a single word.

	“Catch!”

	The bomb flew out of its holding place and into the air, becoming the center of attention. Lovejoy charged forward, covering his head with his claw as the bomb went off midair near Tobias and Roxland. Ringing filled Lovejoy’s ears, no shockwave collided with his body as he lowered his claw to take in the result. Roxland was staggering, covering her eyes, something the incubi had done as a precaution. Screaming and panic from the crowd behind him filled the air. Rick tore himself out of the guard’s grasp and hurled himself through the door to his bar. All at once, Lovejoy realized what the bomb was.

	A flashbang. Lovejoy cursed the merchant for even creating the idea of a party favor bomb. Continuing his charge, he looked to his right side and saw his closest adversary, Marlow, still just lowering his arm from his face. Lovejoy swept his claw low, grabbing the incubus’s leg and lifting upwards. Closing the digits together, the mechanical hiss of the claw and Marlow’s screaming filled the air as his leg was snipped from his body. As Marlow’s body fell, Lovejoy spotted one of the incubi, a man named Briggs, already charging forward, thrusting his sword at him. Lovejoy brought his blade upward, parrying the blow as Tobias charged towards him from his left side.

	Lovejoy quickly brought his claw downward and leftward, smacking Tobias in the chest and knocking him prone. Looking back towards Briggs, he thrust his claw forward, only to grab the air as Briggs backed up from the appendage. Behind Briggs, the final guard charged towards Lovejoy’s right side, swinging his blade rightwards. Quickly adjusting his elbow, Lovejoy deflected the blade with the plates on his arm before bringing his claw around and grabbing the incubus’s right arm, snipping it off. With a turn of his wrist and elbow, Lovejoy brought his saber around and lodged it into the incubus’s neck, silencing him. Looking over his shoulder he spotted Roxland, her vision cleared, glaring at him, and Tobias just starting to stand up.

	Lovejoy dipped down, grabbing the incubus’s legs in his claw, and twisted his body to hurl the improvised projectile. The body flew over Tobias’s head a impacted with Roxland’s chest, knocking her prone and trapping her underneath the dead weight. A roar behind him alerted him to Briggs, charging yet again for another sword thrust. Bending his back inwards, Lovejoy felt the blade scrape by his scale armour as he reared his own blade past his body. Swinging it with snarl, he roughly chopped through Briggs’s neck, sending his head tumbling to the ground with his body.

	Lovejoy turned to Tobias just as his bastard sword was swinging downwards towards his head. Lovejoy hurled his body forward, slamming the side of his claw into Tobias’s gut and kept moving, pushing the captain forward and over Roxland’s sitting form. He threw the captain’s body away from his own, stopping meters away from Roxland. As the captain lay on his back, Lovejoy raised his blade high to decapitate him.

	Lovejoy screamed in pain as the knife sunk into his right armpit, stopping his arm in its tracks.

	It felt like an icicle had pierced his skin and was now melting in his body, slowly spreading like poison. His arm wouldn’t move. It was paralyzed; still in the air holding his blade. A hand released the knife and moved up towards his own, prying at his unmoving fingers to make him release his saber. He saw a red sleeved, blue-skinned arm slide over his shoulder and across his chest, holding him firmly as something snaked around his leg. Hot, humid words passed by his ear.

	“Oh Love~joy. You should have known I was quicker than you thought I was.”

	The arm across his chest suddenly grabbed the knife and shoved it deeper, making Lovejoy cry out in pain. His fingers gave way to the prying hand, opening and letting his blade fall to the ground with a clatter. Tobias started to get up in front of Lovejoy, keeping his distance from his aggressor. Suddenly, Lovejoy felt Roxland’s head next to his, whispering directly into his ear.

	“I Just hope you’re not as quick out here as you will be at home paying for this Love~joy~.”

	Lovejoy brought up elbow up and twisted his body, trying to bash Roxland’s head, only to pass by thin air as she moved away, releasing him from her grasp. His balance faltered, his right leg responding sluggishly to his commands, before he fell to the ground. He supported himself on his claw as he looked about, Roxland went to observe the bodies while guards who stayed out of the fray closed in. Tobias dusted himself off and picked up his blade.

	“Y’know. It's a damn shame what you’ve done to this town Finch. Horrible things I must admit. I’m just glad that, we finally got a monster like you behind bars, not causing any more trouble in this town.”

	Lovejoy tried to raise himself in anger, but only managed to kneel, his left leg thankfully still responding as his right ceased to function; the effects of demon silver. Tobias looked past him and started speaking to Roxland, leaving Lovejoy to simmer.

	“Lady Roxland. Thanks for the, uh, help. Would’ve gotten me-”

	Lovejoy quickly burst in. “Due to your overall incompetence in the way of fighting?”

	Tobias looked back down to his old rival and smirked. “Look who’s talking Finch. You just got ass handed to you-”

	Tobias was interrupted again, Lovejoy raising his voice above the captain’s. “Right before I could hand you your ass on a silver platter! Just like every single other time I whooped it and sent you crying home to daddy!” Lovejoy turned to the crowd of guards and civilians, “That’s right! Every single time Tobias Van Rourke got his ass kicked, he would send daddy’s soldiers to deal with the big, bad meanie who did it! Captain Marshall would have to call them off every single time due to it being legal! Ain’t that right Marshall?!”

	Some in the crowd nodded in agreement as others turned to the captain in the square, still in stocks, his face confused at the whole affair. “...y-yeah. I mean it happened all the time.” Lovejoy turned back to the new captain. His eye was twitching, his frown resembling Roxland’s own anger.

	“Let’s also not forget! However! That not only was he only FIVE FOUR before the invasion, he also had only three inches to his limp dick!” The various mamono onlookers started chuckling, covering their mouths or smiling as they looked at the captain. Lovejoy continued. “Oh wait I’m sorry that was BEFORE he fell like a goddamn rock trying to fuck like a dog. I reckon he’s, what. Four? Five and a half inches now?” Lovejoy started laughing as the rest of the crowd began to openly laugh. “Perfectly average for man, still far below average for incubi!”

	Someone in the bar yelled from an open window, “He’s absolutely right y’know!” Sending the crowd and Lovejoy into hysterics. Tobias was breathing heavily as Lovejoy mocked wiping a tear from his eye with his claw. Looking behind, it seemed to Lovejoy like Roxland was quaking too, most likely in laughter.

	Lovejoy caught his breath, addressing Tobias again. “Jesus christ Tobias, you really are pathetic when everything’s put into perspective. Even with your new qualities as a fallen incubus.” He scoffed before looking the captain in the eye. “You really do act Tobias for your britches.”

	Tobias suddenly hefted his sword upwards, pointing to Lovejoy as he advanced towards him. “You think you’re so fuckin’ hot because you THINK you can insult me?!?! The goddamn prince of this cesspit?! Let’s see what your ass knows about DYING Lovejoy!” Tobias raised his blade with one arm and brought it sharply down upon his heckler. Only one thought went through Lovejoy’s head as he stood up snarling.

	{“You first Tobias.”}

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	Roxland’s eyes widened when Tobias threatened Finch, her goal after all this time. She turned and extended her hand, almost screaming “NO!” before she held her tongue at the situation. Finch had stood up with his working leg and caught Tobias’s arm mid swing, not stopping until Tobias’s upper torso was within his claw’s grasp. Then, to her shock, she saw his spirit energy, that red essence, turning blue and funneling into his claw as he lifted the captain up and over his head! It was an ancient enchantment she had never seen, only heard of in stories of those who could truly make use of it; stories that revolved around the demon lord’s own husband for example. {“So, THAT’S how he’s so strong with the claw!”} She thought. Roxland was jolted out of her musings by Tobias’s shouts of help as Finch roared out, snapping the captain in two!

Time slowed as the pieces fell to the ground, the crowd shouting in horror at the display of power. Roxland didn’t see anything else but the man, her crush, as the beast he was. She needed to restrain him. {“I need to beat him down.”} she thought.

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	As the Tobias chunks fell, Finch felt a presence to his left and turned his head to see what it was. Who in their right mind would get remotely close to him after seeing a display like that? Finch looked over, only to be shocked  by Roxland’s exerted face as she pressed a palm to his side, mouthing a chant. Only one thought flew through his head, much like he was through the air and through a shop’s window. {“When the hell did she get there?!”}

	The window broke as his back impacted with it, his body knocking various bottles to the floor before skidding to a stop near a counter. Finch blearily looked upwards and saw various alchemical fluids pooling on the ground from shattered bottles, mixing to create obscuring smoke and fire. Using the last of his strength, he used his claw to pull himself up and over the counter to shield himself from the blaze. Leaning back on the counter, he weakly raised his visor off his face and let his claw fall to his side.

	“Welp. This is about it. Two years of not being raped or killed. Not a bad track record.” Finch’s eyes began to close from weariness, accepting his most likely fate of being tied to a bedpost and rode into the linen.

	That was until a hand groped his head and held a bottle to his lips, the words, “By the lord are you alright? Drink this. Quickly!” accompanying it. Drinking down the concoction, Finch recognized its spritzy taste, identifying it as a regeneration potion used to help treat wounds. He felt his arm being lifted up and began to stand with the assistance of his helper. Looking down at their legs, Finch saw two furry, brown calves that ended in hooves, leading up to a purple skirt, a brown vest and white undershirt holding two modest sized breasts. As he fully stood up, draping his arm across the woman’s shorter shoulders, he saw two tiny horns atop her head, concealed by short, straight brown hair.

	{“A Satyr...”} he thought.

	“Can you walk?”

	Testing his legs, Finch found he already could walk, but not without assistance.

	“Yes. Yes I can.”

	“Good. Follow me. I’ll take us somewhere safe sir!”

	Leaning on the goat woman, Finch shuffled out of the shop through a backdoor, once again disappearing within the city’s alleyways.

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	Sharon strode out of the tavern after she was sure the fight ended, Cass in tow. Watching the scene from inside the bar had made her sick, but she needed to leave to do what she thought was right. The hellhound knew exactly what and why Sharon was marching outside about, trembling the entire time. “S-Sharon, a-are you sure about this? I-I mean begging Lady Roxland for the sake of, of a barkeep-”

	The manticore glared at her friend as they marched towards Roxland, still gazing into the smoke of the shop. “Yes, I AM Cass. If no one else is going to do what’s right, then I need to!” Cass simply lowered her ears, looking at the ground.

	“A-am I really needed for this?”

	“Yes.”

	Sharon strode up to Roxland, avoiding the viscera clean up, and tapped her shoulder with a claw. Roxland look towards them, her face set in grim anticipation. “Yes?”

	Sharon breathed in before speaking. “Lady Roxland. I want to speak on behalf of the barkeep that you wished arrested named Rick.”

	Roxland raised an eyebrow. “What about him.”

	“W-well. I want to back up his and Finch’s claims that he had no knowledge of who Finch Lovejoy was. I also have another witness, another guardsmen, who can also testify to that claim.” Sharon nudged Cass in the side, looking at her. “Cass, you were with me when you saw him interact with Rick right?”

	The hellhound stammered at her response. “Y-yes. That is correct Sharon.”

	Roxland looked back to the smoke, still obscuring the inside of the potion shop before sighing. “You really like that guy huh guardsmen?”

	Sharon’s eyes widened, before returning to normal. Sharon took another deep breath, attempting to steel her heart. “Yes. Yes I do Lady Roxland. I also know him well enough to know that he never knew who he served. Me and Cass included.”

	Roxland looked Sharon in the eyes, before looking away, muttering, “He’s free to go.”

	Sharon pumped her claws into the air before grabbing her friend and running back into the tavern, eager to tell Rick the good news.

	She had lied through her teeth and managed to get away with it.

	A few minutes after Sharon removed Rick’s manacles and kissed him, Cass marrying herself to a mug of beer, the trio jumped at Roxland’s frustrated screaming.


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	Twenty minutes later…

	Finch and his rescuer didn’t speak in the streets in fear of being discovered. Eventually, Finch’s ability to walk returned, allowing him to move without support. They came upon a cracked chunk of castle Van Rourke’s wall, a hole just big enough to fit through. She lead him into the castle’s garden, into a grove filled with dryads that waved at them. They were met with various greetings from the mamono.

	“Hello Jessica! Nice day isn’t it?”
	“Hi Jessica! Hi Jessica’s friend!”
	“Finally snag yourself a nice man Jessica?”
	“I see you found another warrior to tutor you!”

	Finch waved shyly at the women as Jessica continued to pull him along towards a bench near a tree within the grove. As Finch sat down on the bench, Jessica stood a distance away, twiddling her fingers. She brushed her aside from her face and cleared her throat. “Umm. T-thank you for taking care of Tobias.”

	Finch raised his brow in curiosity. “Uhm. Well. You’re welcome but, why are you happy about his passing? Besides him being an asshole that is.”

	“I worked in that shop you crashed into as an apprentice brewer. I often found the best ingredients here in the castle garden. Tobias caught me in here one time and blackmailed the shop to give him free potions like the rage one.”

	“That explains the ‘juicing up’ rumors then.”

	“Yep.”

	“Hm.” The conversation grinded to a halt, an uncomfortable silence between the two.

	“Mr. Lovejoy? Can I speak freely?”

	Finch raised his hand half heartedly. “Nothing was ever stopping you.” Jessica took a deep breath and exhaled, before breathing in once again.

	“OH MY GOD MR. LOVEJOY I CAN”T BELIEVE YOU’RE RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME OH MY GOOOOOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I SAVED YOU!”

	Finch flinched at the sudden outburst of emotion and watched in amazement as the girl rattled on and on.

	“Oh my god I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. My goodness I’m your biggest fan you’re an inspiration to me can you tell me stories ooh my goooood!”

	“Okay, okay, okay Jessica. Jessica slow down. Slow down! There’s not much to be excited about.”

	She looked at him, fanning herself with her hands. “Not much?!  Mr. Lovejoy! You’re a regular folk tale to people! You’re the ‘Stopper of the Plague of Vines’. You killed the last ancient frost giant of the high mountains. You stole from a DRAGON to finance your career and mostly got away with it! Many people think you’re a paladin of the Order but I know better; I studied you. You’re on no one’s side! You proved that in the ‘Battle of the River Bridge,’ also in its aftermath!”

	Finch thought, {“Great. An honest to god fangirl.”} He chuckled at the accolades being listed to him. “Okay you know what, maybe I am all that in a bag of chips if you’re going so giddly on about it.”

	“Mr. Lovejoy, you’re my inspiration! You proved that anyone can rise from total obscurity and make a name for themselves! Its because of YOU that I’ve been saving up for a blade and asking people to tutor me in the art of combat!” She paused for a moment, before seemingly having a revelation. “Mr. Lovejoy. Can YOU teach me a bit about swordplay? What you know?”

	Finch raised his claw and waved away the request. “I probably can’t teach you much. I’m not formally trained myself. I just go with the flow of how things are.”

	Jessica’s face darkened somewhat, still retaining its excited glow with added curiosity. “Mr. Lovejoy, what do you mean? You’re a monster when it comes to fighting off people. You proved that AGAIN in the Massacre three weeks ago!”

A twitch shot through Finch’s face at the word “monster.” He raised his palm and thrust it forward towards Jessica, stopping her words. “Can you..PLEASE not call me that?”

The goat girl tilted her head sideways, confusion racking her face. “Call you what Mr. Lovejoy? A monster-”

Jessica and the dryads screamed in shock as Lovejoy jumped from the bench and pinned her to the ground within the blades of his claw. His face was contorted in fury, teeth bared like a rabid animal. “Call me a monster. CALL ME A MONSTER ONE MORE GODDAMN…” Lovejoy’s face softened as his eyes widened in shock. He released the girl and backed away, muttering the whole while. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-i-i-it’s a problem I’ve had ever since a certain incident. A mob beating.”

Jessica supported herself on her elbows, pushing herself off the ground. “‘The Mob of Hanlen’ I-I completely understand Mr. Lovejoy.”

Finch hummed and sat down on the bench, still distancing himself from his victim. Silence permeated between the two before Finch stood up and began pacing around the bench. “A-anyways. I hate to tell you Jessica, but being a professional like me isn’t all fun and games. Being a soldier is some tough shit. You’ll see shit you wouldn’t enjoy, you’ll DO shit you’ll regret. This not including the obvious dangers, specifically with the Order to a girl like you.”

Jessica stood up and brushed herself off, trotting over to the bench and sitting down where Finch just was. “I’m not hoping to be a run of the mill soldier Mr. Lovejoy! I’m hoping on being a heroesque figure!”

Finch pointed a single claw directly at Jessica. “Don’t call yourself that.”

“Why not?”

Finch breathed heavily and lowered his claw, beginning to pace once again. “Heroes are the kind of people who only see one side to a conflict and radically support it to the very end. Heroes are the kind of people who go around murdering entire villages of mamono, men, and women or corrupting them with no questions asked or any thought for the people. HEROES are the people who are STUPID enough to let themselves get caught out and wind up dying or getting fucked because of it.” Finch stopped in front of the bench and faced Jessica, breathing heavily. “Call yourself a professional.”

	Jessica stayed silent for a while longer as Finch stood there, awkwardly posing as a teacher. “Mr. Lovejoy...can you at least test me on my sword play?”

	Finch sighed and nodded, prompting Jessica to stand up and lead him to the nearby tree. They found two sticks of reasonable length and distanced themselves from each other. Finch raised his branch like his saber while Jessica took on a formal longsword stance, the branch at ready over her shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do with keeping to what kind of defense people usually have. I want you to try and hit me.”  Jessica nodded, anxiously biting her lip as she moved forward.

	Jessica brought the branch downwards in a non exaggerated motion, prompting Finch to parry it rightwards with his own. Continuing his motion, he twirled his wrist to move his blade into a diagonal blow that was stopped short by the base of Jessica’s stick. She continued her own motion and thrust her branch forward, a blow Finch only just managed to dodge by jerking rightwards. “You’re pretty good. Who’s been teaching you?”

	Jessica smiled and replied, “Self taught using manuals. I’ve also been getting tutoring every now and again from soldiers that come through town.”

	“Good, honest to god fighters should know they’re stuff.” Finch took his stance once again, Jessica following suit. The mentor began with another, easily parried, diagonal swing. Jessica shifted the blade into another thrust, Finch counteracted by using his branch to push the point off target and began to transition into a counter swing. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Jessica’s branch already swinging upwards diagonally towards his side and, by extension, his wrist, faster than he would be able to land his. Finch cried out, “Jesus!” as he jerked away, barely dodging his student’s blow, much to her amusement.

	Jessica giggled and pumped her fist into the air. “Yes! I KNEW I was soldier material!”

	“Yeah,” sighed Finch, “you’re really good at this.”

	“Good enough to be your equal Mr. Lovejoy.”

	Finch raised his claw into the air. “In combat, there is NEVER two people who are equal.”

	Jessica became confused once again, pondering, “What do you mean Mr. Lovejoy?” prompting Finch to walk to the nearby tree.

	“Jessica, combat isn’t just about who knows their techniques, who can swing faster or who’s stronger than the other.” Finch grabbed at a branch with his claw. “There is one great equalizer that people often forget about.” Suddenly, he ripped a large bushel of leaves off the tree and tossed the entire payload directly at his student. She yelped in surprise and batted away the projectile with her branch, only to suddenly be thumped in the chest with Finch’s own branch.

	“Cleverness. Whoever gets the handful of sand first, whoever manages to fool his foe first, whoever manages to bewilder them for even just a second!” Finch dropped his branch and smiled. “Wins. Now can you see why there are no two equals in combat?”

	Jessica dropped her branch onto the ground and returned to her confused look. “But Mr. Lovejoy, what about all those stories of heroes and monsters that were equal and lived happily ever after?”

	“Stories are nothing but stories Jessica. I guarantee you in reality the guy or girl fucked up somewhere, got tricked, got fucked. I refuse to believe they were equal. And even then, even if they WERE equal, how do you explain that ultimately, in the story, their opponent winds up having their way with the hero?” The satyr simply shook her head in response. “Good. I’m glad you understand that.”

	Both of them sat down on the bench, Finch spreading his arms out while his student kept to herself. “Mr. Lovejoy…”

	“Please, call me Finch.”

	“Finch, when do you plan on leaving?”

	Finch scratched at his face as he answered. “As soon as I figure out a plan to get my sword back.”

	Jessica gasped and quickly stood up in front of him. “I can get your blade back for you!”

	Finch brought his arms back to his waist in worry. “Jessica, no. This is my problem. I don’t want you to get involved like Rick almost did.”

	“Pleeeaaassse Finch? I want to help you out and to try and prevent anymore violence from happening.”

	“Jessica, NO.”

	Jessica’s face drooped in sadness as she looked towards the ground. “How can I start working for myself if I can’t get the opportunity to get myself experience?”

	Finch pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in frustration. “Fine. Go and get it. Just remember, if you run into a schmideon of trouble or get caught, offer my location here as a trade in for your freedom.”

	Jessica nodded her head and bounded off out of the grove, dipping back into the crack in the wall. “Thank you Finch! I promise you won’t regret it!”

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	Jessica bounded through the streets of Van Rourke, determined in her new mission. She passed the various alleyways and streets of her home, taking the shortest route to the plaza, unworried of drawing attention to herself.  Entering the plaza through the alleyways near the bar, she looked out from the mouth of the alley. The plaza was nearly empty, drained of its bustle for the day, the merchants and consumers returning home for the “night.” Looking near the potion shop, Jessica spied Finch’s blade lying in the street, undisturbed from earlier.

	Walking out from the alley, Jessica placed her hands behind her back and began walking towards the blade, red stains still in the brick road. Getting closer to the blade, she brought her arms to her sides and walked forward at a brisker pace. Almost atop the blade, Jessica swooped down and picked it up in her hands, continuing to walk away, sure that there were no witnesses to her snatch.

	“Swords are a dangerous item to just pick up willy nilly you know~.”

	Jessica gasped as she quickly turned to the voice’s source above her, sitting atop the rafters of a nearby house. “L-Lady Roxland! I didn’t see you there! How are you?”

	Lady Roxland leaned against the building, relaxing her form. “I’m fine dear, but I’m more concerned for YOU~.” she pointed a single red nailed finger at the satyr. “Specifically, what are you doing just picking up random weapons off the streets?”

	Jessica waved her arms around, laughing nervously as she explained. “Well, not many people know this but, I-i’ve been saving up for a blade to try and go for a soldier career so I thought to just grab this thing off the streets and save some time. Just a dream for a love blooming on the battlefield you know? Hehehe...” Jessica stared nervously as Lady Roxland’s eyelids drooped at her explanation, her body standing up on the roof. She gasped when she blinked to see Lady Roxland suddenly in front of her. The ruler of Van Rourke grabbed Jessica’s wrist, stopping the blade from moving with a vice like grip.

	“Oh I DO know about love blooming kid. And on that regard, I couldn’t help but have to force MY love through a shop window after he slaughtered my guardsmen’s captain.” Jessica looked around nervously as various mamono guardsmen began to appear from different hiding places. Lady Roxland moved her hand to Jessica’s chin and forced her to look at her face, a smile growing with her monologue. “And I DO know that the shop I threw him into was somewhere that I know YOU worked at. And I ALSO know that after he flew through the window in the shop you worked at, he happened to disappear without a trace, with YOU disappearing for a while at JUST the same time!” Lady Roxland leaned into Jessica’s face, a toothy grin shining white. “Now isn’t that funny~?”

	“Please let me go, I can tell you where he is in exchange for my freedom.”

	Lady Roxland pulled back, a smirk still on her face. “Ohoho~! Selling him out already huh?  I’d hate to have you as a confidant! But by all means. Do tell and I’ll release you from any possible state affairs.”

	Jessica gulped, tears welling in her eyes from being treated like refuse. “H-he’s in Castle Van Rourke’s Garden. In a g-grove with a tree and bench, surrounded by dryads.”

	Lady Roxland pried the blade from Jessica’s hands and released her from her grasp. Jessica put a hand to her chest, closing her eyes and taking a breath of relief. Her eyes bolted open as hands from a minotaur roughly gripped her wrists, pulling them behind her back and slapping iron manacles on them. “N-NO!”

	Lady Roxland gripped Jessica’s chin and leaned forward yet again, smiling as tears fell one by one from Jessica’s eyes. “I’m still going to need YOU for some PERSONAL affairs little one~.”

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	Thirty minutes later…

	The flapping of wings within the grove alerted Lovejoy to the presence of his quarry, the same blue-skinned beauty he had been insulting all day. She stood atop the wall, out of Lovejoy’s reach, with a stern look on her face.

	She shouted down at him, “I’m tired of chasing after you Lovejoy. I’m at the end of my rope in patience.”

	“You’re only just now getting tired? Feh!” Lovejoy scoffed, “I suppose patience comes as a natural talent to you!”

	“That’s not my only talent Lovejoy! My other talents tend to be in the bedroom! It’ll be good for both of us if you come along to see!”

	“Fuck off Roxland! I’m not looking to get my dick wet at all today!”

	“No, but you can think it over! I have a bargain for you Lovejoy. I have Jessica AND your blade. Meet me in the plaza at your earliest convenience. The guardsmen will not bother you. Any questions?”

	Lovejoy looked away, putting his hand to his hip. {“Like fucking clockwork.”} he thought. “Yeah! I got one question!”

	Roxland tilted her head, putting her hand to her hips, her trademark pose at this point. “Alright that was meant to be rhetorical. What question could you possibly-”

	“Is being an absolute cunt one of your natural talents?”

	Roxland’s eyes bore directly into Lovejoy’s as her wings propelled her into the air. “Main Plaza Lovejoy! And try not to murder anyone on your way there!” Lovejoy watched as Roxland flew away, sighing as he adjusted his bags before moving towards the crack in the wall.

	“Today just needs to be over already.”

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	Lovejoy trudged through the streets, eyeing the different alleyways for any possible ambushes. As he walked, he noticed squares of paste replacing the old bounty posters for his head. {“What the hell does Roxland have planned.”} he thought. Soon, Lovejoy passed by his old home, a door laid against the outside and broken glass still on the road. He stopped and stared at his old home, a sense of loss impacting him. Suddenly, he felt a tug at his side, a small hand pulling at his jacket.

	“Excuse me sir. What are you looking at Mr. Lovejoy’s house for?”

	Lovejoy’s eye’s lit up. He recognized the voice. Turning around, his suspicions were validated. It was a boy by the name of Timothy, one of the people in town he had actually been somewhat close to. “Timothy! It’s me Mr. Lovejoy. It’s great t- WHAT THE HEL-,” he paused, thinking his words through, “HECK HAPPENED TO YOU?!”

	Timothy was as small as Lovejoy remembered him, only about up to his waist at the age of thirteen. Now, he had to stubby horns that just managed to poke out from his smooth, brown hair. The horns were to be expected by the environment, what horrified Lovejoy was the loose fitting collar around his neck. Lovejoy kneeled down and took the collar into his hand, still crying out, “Timothy who did this to you?! Are they close by? Darn it I bet they still friggin’ are!”

	Timothy stammered, trying to calm him down. “Mr. Lovejoy, I can explain it’s-”

	“Hubby!”

	A voice down the street drew Lovejoy’s gaze and raised his ire. It belonged to a dark elf. Lovejoy stood up, pointing his claw at the dark skinned woman. “YOU. You think you can just go and enslave some poor, random kid? You sick-” He began to advance upon her, Timothy tugging roughly at his jacket.

	“Mr. Lovejoy please don’t!”

	The elf cowered away, tumbling to the ground and holding out a hand as Lovejoy bared down upon her. “No please! I can explain! I found him cornered by a pack of werewolves and saved him three weeks ago! I haven’t done anything to him!” Timothy jumped in front of Lovejoy, standing in front of the fallen elf.

	“She’s telling the truth Mr. Lovejoy! She saved me! I can’t even begin to tell you or her how grateful I am for it!”

	Lovejoy grabbed again at Timothy’s collar with his claw, drawing a knife with his free hand. “What the fuck’s with the collar then huh? And even then! Going and fucking a goddamn kid not even mature yet!”

	The dark elf, hyperventilating in horror, continued to plead. “No don’t hurt him! I haven’t done anythi-” she stopped once she saw her aggressor take his knife and smoothly cut off the collar, letting it droop to the ground. She took a deep breath in and out, makeup running down her face from tears. “I haven’t touched him. Not in any sexual way. He said he wanted to wait until he was old enough and was human again. I was fine with it. We couldn’t afford a ring or the money needed to take a trip to Jotun for the purification rites needed. So, the collar was there to mark that he was already taken.”

	Lovejoy huffed at the explanation. Jotun was a city to the north known for its puritan lifestyle, independent from the Order and Demon lord’s forces. Worshippers of the goddess of Purity and Love Eros, the population despised all attempts of corruption as, “stains upon the one true love between man and woman.” The city also housed the abilities of its own “Purificators,” men and women who could reverse corruption and restore the purity of demon realms.

	Lovejoy sheathed the knife and grabbed his bottomless bag, stuffing his hand inside. “How much do you need for the trip and the ring.”

	The dark elf, stood up slowly, stuttering the whole while. “T-t-two hundred fifty gold.” When Lovejoy thrust the exact amount at her chest, she hesitatingly took it before backing away, embracing her lover with her free arm.

	Lovejoy pointed at her with a digit of his claw, commanding, “Buy him a fucking ring.” before walking past her, towards the main plaza.

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	It wasn’t long before Lovejoy arrived at the plaza, a line of guards blocking the road. Upon spotting him many pointed and opened a hole for him to pass through. As he entered the plaza, the hole closed up behind him, sealing him inside with walls of bodies. Standing in the center of the plaza was Roxland, smiling as she teased a manacled and crying Jessica in the grip of the pigman and minotaur from earlier.

	Roxland frowned as she looked towards Lovejoy, no longer entertained by her chained up toy. Before Lovejoy could continue forward, Roxland held up a hand holding his blade, shouting, “Stop right there Lovejoy. I’m in control now and what I say goes.”

	Lovejoy smiled, eager to begin bantering again. He began “Oh rea-” before Roxland broke in.

	“Shut up Lovejoy! You’re NOT going to speak, unless spoken TO. For now, you LISTEN.”

	Lovejoy blew air out of his mouth at the outburst, thinking, {“Ooooh boy. She’s REALLY pissed right now.”} before returning his gaze to Roxland composing herself.

	She threw her hair behind her head, closing her eyes before opening them, an alluring smile across her face and a finger twirling her hair. “I’ve called off the bounty on your head Lovejoy. This is strictly a personal affair. No guards. No citizens. Nothing. Just you…”she pointed at Lovejoy, then to herself. “...and me~.” Lovejoy stayed silent as she continued. “Besides that, I have a deal for you that I’ll try to explain as simply as I can. Do you enjoy card games Lovejoy?”

	“No.”

	“Bear with me then. You have a few choices that you can take. You can “fold” and simply leave this city, never to return again. But I get to keep your sword…” she walked over and gripped Jessica’s cheeks, scrunching them playfully, “...AND your friend as compensation.” she stepped away again, before snapping her fingers, materializing a piece of paper from thin air. “You can “call” by signing my contract and pledging yourself to me. You get your blade, the girl goes free...and I show you juuuust what you’ve been missing out on Love~Joy~. Or...” Roxland sent the contract away and threw Lovejoy’s blade into the air, sending it clattering between the two of them. Lovejoy cringed as he watched the damage to the blade while Roxland continued, her voice growing far huskier. “...you can go “All~in,” and try and fight me. If you win, you get everything that you could want out of these choices and I won’t raise a single~ finger over it. But if you lose~...” Roxland simply laughed instead of continuing. “So~. What’s it going to be Love~joy?”

 Lovejoy looked towards Jessica, who stared at him, mouthing “Please,” his gaze wandering further towards Marshall, still in the square, watching as best he could from his position. He looked back to Roxland and took a step forward, only to tense up as Roxland stepped forward as well. Lovejoy tilted his head and took a short step forward, watching Roxland copy him. She planned to meet him at the blade, with either a pen or knife in hand.

Lovejoy sighed, “Final round of the day.” flipping down his visor and running ahead, Roxland drawing a knife as she followed suit. Lovejoy roared as he came upon his blade, passing it in favor of swiping at Roxland with his claw as she approached. She easily dodged his claw, propelling herself over him with her wings as Lovejoy turned on a heel and picked up his blade, swinging upwards. Lovejoy’s eyes widened as his blade swung recklessly through thin air as an arm gripped his wrist from behind, holding it still.

“The old familiar places we see. Hm Love~Joy?”

Lovejoy quickly brought his claw around and gripped blindly behind him, holding on tightly to an arm when he heard a yelp and felt her grip release his wrist. Bringing his claw forward, he twirled his rival in front of him, holding her knife arm above her as she struggled to free herself. Lovejoy chuckled as he leaned forward to insult her again before a knee impacted with his crotch, causing him to open his claw in surprise. As lovejoy leaned down, crying out in agony, he witnessed Roxland disappear in a cloud of particles. He spread his legs, cupping his manhood in his hand as he looked around, spotting Roxland rubbing her wrist on a nearby rooftop.

{“It all makes sense now,”} Lovejoy realized, {“no wonder she’s so fast, teleportation is something you can only get with specialization in the school of displacement.”} It explained how she made sure the gates to the city were closed when she found out he was here, how she managed to blast Lovejoy away by sticking a palm to his side. It was all standard displacement magic.

Roxland suddenly disappeared off the rooftop, prompting Lovejoy to whip his blade behind him, turning around just as another cloud of particles dissipated. He threw himself backwards, generating an “OOF” out of Roxland, the knife swinging upwards just past Lovejoy’s armpit. Turning around, he swung his claw towards her body, only for her to teleport inches away from his face, inside his swing. On impulse, he thrust his head forward, headbutting the demon in the face before she teleported away again. Looking around, Lovejoy spotted Roxland atop another building, cupping her nose as blood trailed down to her mouth. Almost sensing him staring, she looked towards him, drawing her bloodied hand away from her face.

She smiled at him, seemingly unaffected by the pain.

Lovejoy breathed hard from the flailing, shaking his head at the sight, muttering “Oh crap.” Looking to the various stalls, Lovejoy slowed his breathing, beginning to talk himself to a plan. “She’s slow to recover. Got good reflexes. Will be able to easily dodge my blows. Reacts strongly to pain. Only way to reliably hit would be to distract her, but with-” Lovejoy perked up, an idea suddenly dawning on him.

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	Roxland wiped the blood from her mouth, spitting out what had dripped in already. She tightened her fist as she looked towards Lovejoy again. This fight was doing nothing but increasing her excitement for what was to come. He was staring at her as he walked around the plaza, his aura changing from crimson red to gold once again.“This foreplay is doing nothing but delaying the inevitable Lovejoy! I’ll still let you sign that contract! But I’m taking away the blade if you do!” She looked on quizzically as Lovejoy walked into a stall with a blanket covering, hiding him from her sight. She blinked to a new location, the roofs opposite of whatever cover the stall provided for her prey. She saw him with his back turned looking down on something, his blade sheathed and his claw and arm fiddling with something. “If you’re looking for something to help you you can forget it Lovejoy! I made sure all the stalls were empty of things you could use, like those damnable bombs!”

	He didn’t react whatsoever to the words, not even turning his head from his project.

	Roxland blinked down to ground level a distance away from Lovejoy, a scowl on her face. “HEY! I’m talking to you Lovejoy!” He still didn’t react to her shouting. Roxland’s finger twitched again, her knuckles whitening on her knife’s grip. {“If he’s not reacting to my words...maybe he’ll react to something a little more...pointed.”} she thought. She strode forward, brandishing her knife when suddenly, just a step away from her crush, he turned, raising his arm and flinging a dagger at her.

	Time slowed to a crawl as she reached up to catch the blade. What was he thinking? He knew she was capable of catching it from weeks ago! Was he desperate? As she gripped the blade, her eyes widened as her hand began screaming in pain, burning from the repelling seal wrapped around the projectile. As she began to open her mouth to scream, Lovejoy was already fully turned and rearing back a fist, his aura turning crimson once again.

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	Lovejoy’s fist collided with the side of Roxland’s head, sending her head twirling as he brought his hand in the opposite direction, delivering a fierce backhand strike to the other side. The demon quickly dropped the dagger to the ground, raising her arms to guard her face, an opportunity Lovejoy took to seize them in his claw’s grasp. He raised the demon’s arms above her head and hooked a leg behind her own, shoving her roughly to the ground. Planting his claw above her head, he kneeled down, placing a knee haphazardly between her legs. Lovejoy panted from the exertion, only now beginning to regain his breath as his quarry struggled beneath him.

	“I think...I win Roxland.”

	The demon simply stared up at her pinner, breathing deeply from the exertion. “So it would seem. You’re ending the fight instead of me Finch?”

	“No. No point in it Melissa. It’d do nothing but make even more chaos in this place. Wouldn’t you say it's had enough?”

	Melissa simply hummed as Finch flipped up his visor, letting his face breath as he looked about, the guards still in their same place at attention. “Now, Melissa,” Lovejoy grunted, clearing his throat, “I’m going to be in town for a while longer, just to get supplies for my trip out…” He paused momentarily when he saw Melissa looking away, a blush on her cheeks. He reached with his hand and adjusted her head so she was looking at him once again. “...and I plan to leave immediate-” Lovejoy stopped and jerked his head towards his knee. He had felt something hot and damp collide with his knee. Looking downward, he lifted his knee and beheld a damp spot on Melissa’s crotch. Looking back up, Lovejoy’s raised eyebrow caused Melissa to look away, her face blushing purple the whole while. He leaned closer to Melissa’s ear, whispering, “Those chains weren’t for me huh?” She nodded in response.

	Finch, against his own better judgement, released his prisoner, standing up as she did as well, rubbing her arms from the claw marks. Finch picked up his dagger, storing it and the repelling seal away before turning again to his old quarry. “If you want my opinion, I recommend you let the old captain Marshall?” he pointed over towards Marshall still in the stocks in the plaza, “Let him be free and reinstate him as captain of the guard. He was well liked before, he would be a good choice for your reputation. And uh…” Finch leaned in once again to Melissa’s ear. “...I hear he’s VERY aggressive in bed.”

	Finch pulled back to observe Melissa’s face, eyes wide in shock and stark purple, before walking towards Jessica. As he approached, the guards, mouths still agape, quickly composed themselves, undoing the manacles and backing away before Finch could get close to them. He extended a hand towards Jessica, now smiling softly with tear streaks still going down her face. “You alright? They didn’t rough you up too bad did they?”

	Jessica sniffled, taking his hand as she wiped away any tears she had left. “I’m alright Finch. Just training for the future I suppose!” She chuckled, before letting go of his hand to hug him, burying her horns into his chest. “Thank you.”

	Finch rubbed at his student’s head for a few seconds, before pulling her away, looking into her eyes. “Hey, you wanna stick with me for a while longer? I can give you the rest of the gold you need for a blade and I’ll teach you what you need to know about trail supplies.” The goat woman nodded her head and took Finch’s hand again, walking with him to the nearby shops...the ones still open anyways. “Oh and I need to stop at that prisoner fruit shop again. My sweet tooth’s killing me.”

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	Four hours later…

	The campfire crackled gently, the light serving to scare away any wildlife. A breeze moved through the woods, cooling the temperature to a chiller normal.

	And Finch couldn’t sleep.

	A combination of the day’s adrenaline and night terrors forced his eyes open, trying everything he could to tire himself. Reading the Bible of the Fallen God, Finch was disgusted to learn it was nothing more than a collection of smut stories; it would do nothing but serve as fuel for a future fire. Counting his gold, Lovejoy learned that he barely had enough to buy a respectable home and furniture, his spending earlier on Timothy’s ring and Jessica’s blade having put a dent in his savings. Still not tired, he began to sharpen his blades, repairing any damage that they may have incurred.

	When that was done, he fell back to studying his encyclopedias, failing all the while to immerse himself. Setting them aside, he laid back and simply closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come... and the crushing loneliness to subside.

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	Three days later…

	Rick looked down to the glass he was cleaning, his wedding ring clinging against it. Ever since he married the guardswoman, that lover of Eros her, he noticed various changes in his life. His potbelly, tail, and horns were gone, his body became leaner and more toned. The effects of ambient demon energy dissipated in the face of his wife’s own. He was nearly as human as he was before the invasion.

	The oaken door to the bar creaked open, the sound of tapping accompanying it. Looking upwards, Rick was greeted with the sight of a large drider, just half a head shorter than Imzi, covered in white fur that ended in spiked hooves, a tail swinging uselessly on the end of her body. Golden hair streamed out from a helmet, one that resembled Finch’s own with slight modifications, all the way to her waist. Segmented plate covered her human torso and the various legs of her body, her helmet with an etched in jaw obscured her face. An enormous metal bow strung across her back and blade at her side seemed to be her only two weapons, most likely fit for her strength.

	She skittered to the bar, her spikes tapping gently against the floor. She came to the bar and stood next to Imzi, the bar’s new resident bouncer. She leaned into the bar, beckoning Rick to come forward. Her voice ringed out from behind her helm, feminine and young. “I’m looking for the Crab and heard he came through here a few days ago. Have you seen him or heard any rumors as to where he went?”

	Rick raised an eyebrow. Obviously a bounty hunter after some prize. “Nope. Sorry. Never heard a him lady. Can I get you something to drink?”

	“No thank you. You’re absolutely sure you haven’t seen someone like him? Tall, brown hair, handsome features, large brown bag on his back most of the time?”

	“No.”

	“Positively certain? He’s a heavy drinker, large claw on his arm...should have visited at least ONE of the bars of town?”

	Imzi set down her gourd of sake, sighing at the interrogation. “Look lady, we ain’t ever heard of no Finchs here. You’re better off lookin’ an’ askin’ somewhere else.”

	Rick slammed a palm to his face as the spider turned to the oni, coldness radiating from her words. “I never said Finch.”

	Rick set down the clean glass and crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation. “Ok. You got us. We know about him. We AIN’T tellin’ ya. Judging from how you look, you look like a whole storm a trouble that I want to spare my friend from.”

	The spider sighed, leaning into the bar, her tone becoming more and more frustrated. “I AM a friend of his. I NEED to know where he’s gone so I can talk to him.”

	Imzi suddenly grabbed at the spider’s shoulder, spinning her around to face her. “Look, we ain’t-” As the spider turned, she grunted in exertion and sent a surprise right hook into Imzi’s jaw. To Rick’s amazement, Imzi actually stumbled a bit before regaining her balance, the spider watching the whole while. As Imzi rubbed her jaw, she nodded her head in amazement. “Huh. Even for being a monster, that was a good one! Sadly its my-” One of the spider’s claws found itself grabbing the back of Imzi’s head and slamming it into the counter of the bar before she could finish her sentence.

	The spider grabbed Imzi by the shoulders and began dragging her to the window. Rick and the rest of the bar watched on, in horror, as the spider threw Imzi out through one window, exited the building, dragged Imzi to the other window, and threw her back inside, sending tables, chairs, and patrons flying. Rick backed up against his shelves of booze as the spider reentered the building, striding directly for him. The spider leaned over and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him next to her helmet. He could feel the rapid, hot breath on his face, and see her one bright, blue eye as she spoke. “WHERE. IS. LOVEJOY.”

	“Put him down! I’ll tell you!”

	Rick and the spider looked towards the bar door, spotting Sharon, his wife and barmaid, standing with her blade drawn, Cass, in her usual guard attire, at her side. The spider dropped Rick behind the counter, out of sight but still in earshot.

	“He left through the southern gate. Apparently he told a kid he was leaving towards Rumans Keep. But that was three days ago, and it’s an Order city an-” The spider pushed past the duo, walking out of the bar and soon out of the city, a mess in her wake. Sharon walked to her husband and began pawing at him in concern. “Rick, who was that?”

	He shook his head, looking over to Imzi holding her own head in a pile of rubble. “I don’t know hun. I just don’t know. I don’t even want to know what Finch does to attract people like her.” Sharon kissed him on the head before helping him upwards to clean up the mess.

	For the first of many times, she was glad that Lady Marshall let her retire from guard work after she married Rick.