"Well. Well. Well. This is a lovely evening isn't it? Fancy meeting you here."
A masked man with an incredible physique appeared out of the alleyway.
He wields a heavy rod resting it on his shoulders.
He walks into the lantern light of the troop confidently.
"My good sir, who might you be? It's past the curfew, perhaps you should go to sleep before you get booked by the guards."
"Ha! Look who's talking."
The man swings his heavy rod. A burst of energy arced back and forth the rod as he activates his gauntlets.
He approaches the troop. His hand casually in his pocket.
"Cmon! Are you sure you don't recognize me? I'm pretty sure we've met before."
"I don't recall anything about that. Would you please leave? Curfew is in effect."
The man got closer. He was within point blank range of a musket.
More shadowy figures emerged from the alleyways.
The troop glances around uncomfortably.
They were surrounded.
"Curfew? Then what the hell are you doing out here?"
The captain stood his ground, staring the man dead in the eye.
"You should really worry about yourself. Besides, isn't it past your bedtime?"
"Oh? You sure are a good talker. Just like the way you handled our recruiter. You really shouldn't have said no you know?"
"I'm still not sure what you're talking about. If you wish to discuss business, I propose doing it at an inn during business hours."
The man bends down and menacingly leans his face against the captain.
He was a head taller than him.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about alright. You should have heard the rumours. We don't take no for an answer."
"I get you might be rather upset, but this is perhaps not the time to discuss that."
The captain began making hand signals at his back.
"Perhaps you have a point. Let's discuss business shall we? That's a nice package you got there. Looks pretty heavy, I wonder what is in it?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss it."
The captain looks past the hulking man's shoulder towards a rooftop.
He sees the shadow of a sword swing, knocking another shadowy figure to the ground.
"Boo. What a poor sport you are. Ferrying all those boxes around. Aren't you the least bit curious? See, this is why you should join us. You and your small world. Cmon now. Just hand it over. You have a good excuse don't you? Do it while I'm still asking nicely."
Thud! One of his henchmen was sent tumbling onto the ground.
"What-" He was briefly distracted.
A sudden flash of light, blinding the entire area.
…
Thud. Regis swings his sword, hitting the back of the mobster's neck.
A powder bomb. He ducks and counters with one of his own.
The mobster wheezed and coughed for a moment before dropping to the ground.
A flash of light, an energized rod was swung at him.
He dodges easily and returns a counter swing.
"A glowing rod? What's the point if I can see it coming."
Regis knocks out the squad.
He walks over the ledge.
The Liforia guild guards are holding their ground.
A loose circular formation.
The porter stood in the middle.
Their energized rods and shields.
The more numerous thugs tried to muscle their way into the formation with their mass. But the powered suits of the Liforia guild and their tactics just about makes up the difference.
Whenever the thugs charge a portion of the line, the guard in the direct line will step back.
His comrades on either side will flank.
A group of thugs takes a rooftop position and hurls stones and powder bags at the merchant guild formation.
It causes the mana barriers to fizzle.
Wham. Wham. A shadow appears behind them, striking them in the necks in quick succession before they could react.
"Thats the last of them."
He stands on the rooftop watching over the battle.
The Liforia guild captain was holding his own against an opponent twice his mass.
He parries the heavy blows at an angle, never blocking them directly.
He counters with well timed shield bashes that always stagger the hulking beast.
"That guy's pretty good. Using his opponent's weight against him. Minimizing his movements to conserve stamina. The muscle head he's fighting is probably on steroids. The more he stalls, the closer he gets to the blow back kicking in."
More and more thugs began streaming into the streets.
The guards are nowhere to be seen.
"Sh*t. Those guys are not going to hold for long, I better do something."
He takes out a vial. Black murky liquid.
He clutches it in his hand.
"The shade potion. I stopped drinking it since it was burning my insides. That Gurdel elixir I bought. It neutralizes most of the block back. If not, that dealer is going to get a dagger to his back."
With a sharp movement, he tilted his head back.
The viscous liquid burns his throat.
"Arrgghhh!"
He leans forward. The elixir does not neutralize the pain.
He holds back his vomit as the mana flowers through his body.
Sounds. The arcing of the mana rods. The shouts.
He looks up.
His vision clears.
It was the dead of night.
Shouts from the battle below echo through his head.
The mob had broken through the merchant guild's defenses.
The guards were being mobbed, their gear were being stripped as they were caught in the stampede.
The porter was being buried by mobsters.
Regis drew his smoke bombs.
All at once he threw them, carpet bombing the street.
He jumps off the ledge.
"Wait what?" A mobster exclaimed as a shadow appeared, obscuring the light from his hip lantern.
A swing to his neck that he could not see, knocking him out.
The shadow moves through the crowd.
Swings of the blunt scabbard of the sword.
The common mobsters caught a glimpse of the shadow before they each took a sudden knock to their necks.
A sudden flash of light. The confusion he had caused gave the guard captain a chance to recover.
He rushes to clear the mobsters swarming the porter.
The towering mobster recovers from the burst of light and chases after him.
A powder bag hit him in the face.
"What-?"
He stops and looks around. The smoke makes it difficult to see.
Flashes of mana rods clashing against each other.
The merchant guards were still able to fight.
More powder bombs flew at him.
He blocks them with his arm.
"Show yourself!"
He bellowed.
Two henchmen drop on the ground before him.
He catches a brief glimpse of a shadow.
"Where are you?"
He spins around. He sees more of his henchmen getting knocked out by a shadow.
He swung his massive rod but hit nothing but air.
He swings blindly but hits his own men.
"Arrgh!." he roars but the shadow does not respond.
Then, he sees the merchant guild captain he had been dueling trying to get away with the porter.
He charges.
A powder bag hits his face.
He was unfazed.
A sharp knock to his side.
"Arrgh!" He staggers.
It was a part of his armour that the guild captain had smashed and was hurting.
He swung through the shadowy mist but felt nothing.
A sharp knock bashing his mask into his face.
He swings his rod wildly.
The shadow attacks him from all angles.
He takes out a bomb and smashes it into the ground.
A sudden burst of mana arcs in an area.
He looked up, the shadow had materialized.
"There you are."
An upwards swing of his rod.
"It whiffed?"
"Huh?" He lost his balance.
A sharp knock to his chin from below, knocking him to the ground.
His vision blurred.
He feels the blow back from his steroids.