I almost wrote this up as ‘Dude took out three people.’ I don’t know what I was thinking.
Me and Lucas went in by ourselves: the Brute Squad was for when sneaky was no longer an option. “How are we doing this?” I asked as we walked up to the door.
“We improvise, of course,” said Lucas as he went in first. “Plans at this stage are so pointless, don’t you agree?” he said brightly at the ‘cashier’ propped up on the counter. I also spotted an ‘assistant’ lounging by what was probably the basement door and the ‘tanner’ himself poking at a pile of smelly jackalope furs.
The cashier said ‘Huh?’ as Lucas approached the counter. The smile on Lucas’s face never slipped as the elf reached out suddenly to grab the cashier by both ears, then slam the guy’s face into the counter two, three times. “Could you hold this, Shamus?” Lucas said as he let go with one hand, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a few throwing knives.
“Thanks!” Lucas said as I grabbed the cashier’s head myself and kept it pushed against the counter. “Just give me a minute.” Three of the knives spun out: two pinned the sleeve of the assistant as he reached for what looked like a bell-pull. The third slammed into the wood so close underneath the crotch of the assistant’s jeans that I winced in sympathy. Lucas was already moving to meet the tanner, who had pulled a warhammer out from underneath a bunch of furs and was roaring.
Warhammers are great for messing people up. If you can hit them before they can hit you. When you got somebody with a blackjack who can duck under your skin, well, wear elbow pads. The tanner wasn’t wearing an elbow pad. Or anything to protect the back of his head, which is what Lucas hit next. Tanner went down in a heap.
I looked at the two remaining. “Cashier’s still awake,” I said as the guy kept trying and failing to get traction. “Assistant looks like the dumb one.”
“On it,” said Lucas. He slapped some goo on the assistant, who went slack-faced and sloppy pretty much instantly. “I’m gonna be the bad cop this time,” Lucas said conversationally as he walked up to the counter, shortsword in hand.
“That’s fair,” I said. I looked down. “Although I think our guy here isn’t going to give you any time to play.”