A Town Called Eclipse

"I need a drink."

I was getting too serious and hopefully the sheriff would recover. I needed to unwind a little. I couldn't overdo it in case Grimjack returned for another go. I didn't know if he was alone or had a crew of mercenaries with him. I would stop by my room and grab a little protection just in case though. I went to my room and removed the floor boards from my closet and took out the smaller of the two cases. I returned the boards and opened the case. The guns within gleamed when the sunlight hit them. They were the handiwork of a master gunsmith. I had spent a fortune on them and they were worth every dollar. The gun belt was tooled dragon leather and stitched with mithril thread. I loaded the pistols that had been hand crafted to fit my hands and my hands alone. Having two opposable thumbs while for me was not just convenient but beneficial. There were things I could do that most others could not and on the reverse side there were many objects that I could not comfortably utilize. Because of that I carried personalized tools for my own comfort. Two of those were the hand guns I was now wearing.

"Time for a drink."

I put on my duster which covered most of my gun belt. Of course, anyone curious enough would spot the second belt buckle if they looked hard enough. I made my way to the saloon and found it relatively quiet. The goblins were busy in the mines and I was grateful for the break in their obnoxious behavior. There were few patrons in now and I liked it that way. The bartender blathered away about the unprovoked attack by the weird looking human. I wrestled with whether to tell him Grimjack's lineage or not.

"I know that look," he said leaning close. "You know something."

"He's not human," I said and explained as briefly as possible. "Was he alone?"

"No, funny you should ask. He had two other fellers with him. One was a tall sylvan and the other was a huge fucking orc. I didn't recognize either of them. I suppose all three were passing through. There's that look again, you think they are coming back don't you."

"Yep."

"Don't you worry mister I got old peace keeper behind the bar. Anyone even thinks about starting trouble in here and they get both barrels."

"Grimjack is a dead shot. Just be careful and try not to provoke him."

I left after my second drink. It was dark out by then and I needed to walk. The town was quiet though not silent. As I walked past the homes of the townsfolk there were hints at conversations. I was passing one home when I noticed a distinct difference in the tone and quality of the words being spoken. I stopped cold and shivered despite it being a warm evening. I was moving to the side of the house as quietly as I was able. I am not by nature a voyeur, but the sounds stirred my curiosity. I peered through the window and watched things unfold.

"I have your wine and sleeping draught." The boy said as he took a seat opposite the woman.

"Such a good son," she whispered as she unfolded the paper and poured the powder into her glass. "How was your day?"

"Someone shot the sheriff," he replied instead. "He is still alive so far."

"This town is going to hell." She said and then took a deep drink of her wine. "I hate this place."

"You are only upset because Lady Crimson hasn't fulfilled her promise. You are still just a whore."

"It is impolite for a son to call his mother a whore. It is true but impolite. The money I earn while on my back put a roof over your head. If you don't like it move out." She yawned and let out a soft gasp. "I can't move. What have you done?"

"I added a paralytic to your sleeping draught." He said as he stood up and took out his cock. "Time to earn a little extra tonight. Open wide mother..."

I watched as he grabbed her by the hair and pushed his erection between her lips. So much for a kiss or getting things warmed up. I heard her gag and cough but her son seemed quite oblivious to her complaints. He reached down and tore her night shirt asunder. His hands mauled her breasts as he gave her mouth pussy a rest. He bent down and bit her nipples and I was surprised when she only chastised him.

"Not so rough," she said dreamily. "I have work tomorrow night."

Her words sent him into a rage. His face darkened and he spat on his fingers and thrust them between her legs. The intent was clear. He was prepping her to be violated. If I burst in and stopped him who would handle things? The sheriff was incapacitated his deputies simply weren't up to it. I had met them. They were a dumb dull lot that only volunteered because they weren't fit for anything else. Her sudden cry brought me back to what was transpiring. The young man had pulled her hips so that her ass was right on the edge of the seat of the chair. His cock was sliding inside of her and I could see her discomfort. With no foreplay and little lubrication it was rough going. He stopped and spat a few more times and tried to improve things. His thrusts were slow but deliberate. It looked like he was enjoying himself even as she managed to shakily raise her hand and press it against his chest.

"Stop... you are hurting me," she said her words slurring badly. "This is wrong."

"So is my mother being a common whore."

"There is nothing common about me," she growled as her pride raised its head. "For the god's sake use... UNNNN... in the table's drawer the blue jar."

He yanked his cock free and strode over and opened the drawer. He smeared some of the jar's contents on his erection. I watched as he rubbed it in. He returned to his mother and slid back into her without any resistance. They were both moaning now. Gone was the pain now she was being serviced by her own son.

"My ass," she begged. "You can't spill your seed inside of my womb. Fuck my ass at least. If you love me at all give me that at least."

"Fine mother," he snarled. "Here let's try your other hole."

He pulled out of her pussy and lowered the tip a bit and pushed. They both cried out how tight it was. He slid into her ass in one go. I winced but her expression wasn't one of pain but bliss. She told him how much she charged for just this privilege. That sent him into another rage and he pounded her ass with all the power and speed he could muster. He wasn't going to last long going at her like that. But then this was rape and not about pleasure. He was taking out his anger at her profession and her lack of motherly instincts. They cried out together as he shot his seed deep into her crack. I moved away before I was seen. The streets were nearly empty when I headed back to my room.

"Hello father," I called out in greeting to the human priest.

"So, you are the Duskwalker," he replied. "You look troubled."

"Indeed, I am," I admitted to the man of the cloth. "I have seen this very night a very disturbing sight."

"You passed and did nothing." He said, and I nodded. "Is your conscience bothering you?"

"No, not in the way you think. I am disturbed by the history between the two I observed. It is an unhealthy relationship and yet will remain after tonight."

"You don't like me," he replied after a long pause.

"It isn't that," I told him. "I don't like what you represent."

"I have heard it say that the Duskwalkers have no god or higher power. Is that true?"

"We have never bent knee nor spoken prayers if that is your meaning. However, we held three things sacred since our beginnings. I guess you could call them a triumvirate of sorts. We held logic, knowledge, and truth as our sacred ideals. If they be gods, then we hold them dearer than life itself as your Holy Church knows all too well."

"Suffer not a witch to live." The human said, and I clenched my hands into fists. "Those were dark days indeed."

"There it is again," I whispered shaking my head. "Your race is so short-lived father. What for me is my past is long history to you. What I recall with ease your holy books are vague words for events that naught transpired."

"That smacks of heresy sir!"

"I speak only the truth." I fired back unrepentant.

"Your truth..."

"The truth, the unvarnished objective truth. I told you of the three pillars my people hold sacred. I earn nothing by lying."

"To hell with you," he snapped and stormed off.

"I did it again."

I had shattered another human's faith. I pondered a drink when I saw the priest heading for the saloon. Let him have his space I thought. It was time to turn in. I returned to the hotel and slept until dawn. A fine breakfast was waiting for me and I didn't miss the nervousness of the other guests. When I asked about it the young dark elf, Mirabelle by name, told me a message had been delivered to the hotel. Galen came over himself carrying a wooden platter. There was a piece of paper and an ornate knife on it. The paper had been cut and it became clear that someone used the knife to nail the paper to the outside of the hotel. I recognized the double-edged dagger. It had once belonged to me. I have given it as a gift to a dear friend of mine. The only reason for its return could be that he had been killed and the blade taken off his corpse. Grimjack had worked his way through god knew how many of my friends before tracking me down to the town of Eclipse.

I took the note and unfolded it. The handwriting was plain and sloppy. The cursive Latin was a challenge, and poorly written. Grimjack was calling me out. He had chosen high noon to face me on the street. I asked on how the sheriff was doing. Galen told me that he was still alive, but he hadn't awoken yet. He asked me what I was going to do as the rage slow simmered within me. How many of my friends had perished just so he could find me?

"Do... do... I am going to shoot that son of a bitch dead. I am going to leave his corpse bleeding in the street."

Galen left me in peace. I ate my meal in silence pondering the likelihood of surviving this duel. I had to contend with the fact that Grimjack might set up snipers to kill me even if I survived him. I set my utensils down, drank the last of my water, and gazed down at what would likely be my last meal. It is not what I would have chosen but it sufficed. I retreated to my room to meditate and focus on what I had to do. This wasn't my first duel and likely wouldn't be my last. I sat with my back to the wall and recalled my duel on Boston Commons. It had been a crisp autumn morning. The weapons were much less sophisticated than what we would be using today. The flintlock left much to be desired when it came to accuracy as well. But if you struck bone your foe was most assuredly dead. The metal ball propelled into the other would shatter and send shards of metal that would devastate organs and blood vessels.

My meditation was interrupted when someone knocked on my door. I got up and opened the door. Two females entered, and I recognized both. One was the young human that I had helped treat at the doctor's office. The other was the dark elf that had so brazenly got under the table and pleasured me so well. I closed the door behind and suddenly the air was abuzz with both trying to speak at the same time. They were constantly talking over the other and halting a staggering attempt to pass on a message. I smiled and that caused them to stop and stare at each other. Once more they each tried to go first and that forced a second silence.

"You, human female, tell me why you are here." I said keeping my laughter at bay by will alone.

"I am here to comfort you." She said unconsciously touching her cheek. "You saved my life and healed my bones. I wanted to thank you."

"I wanted to fulfill my promise," the dark elf interjected. "I wanted to make your last few hours pleasant."

"What if I live?" I asked. "What if I kill Grimjack?" They looked at each other a second time and smiled. "Tell you what, why not hold onto all that hunger and desire to please me until after the duel. When I am done I am going to want to celebrate. I can't imagine any better way than taking on two eager young ladies."

"Both." They said in a single voice.

"I've never..." the young human stammered.

"I'll get her ready," the dark elf grinned. "We will both be ready for you."

The elf grabbed the human's wrist and led her out. I fancied that the petite girl would have her horizon's broadened by the time the duel was over. Now that was a show I'd pay to be in the front row for. Since my meditation had been ruined I decided to clean my pistols and write a letter. I knew she wouldn't reply but worst case I make my feelings known. I took out my pen, ink and my best vellum. The soft scratching sound as the pen bit into the paper had a deliberate tempo as the words formed. I was surprised at how easily the letter took form. I had written it in my head a hundred times and now it was given shape. I let the ink dry took out wax and my signet ring. I folded the letter in my distinct style and slid it into an envelope. I lit a candle and used its flame to melt the stick of red wax. I watched the drops fall like blood and pool on the back of the envelope. I pressed my ring into the wax and set it aside. I wrote a note for Russel to deliver the letter if I happened to perish in the gun fight.

Another knock at my door tested my patience but I let it go. A young male gnome entered carrying a small wooden box. He informed me that the sheriff had recovered and was conscious. The sheriff had sent the boy with a small gift. The gnome left my roof and I noted the weight of the box in the palm of my hand. I pulled the lid off it and almost dropped it when I saw the twelve mithril bullets. They were the trademark of the sheriff and from what I had been able to glean from the residents of Eclipse, a gift from Magnus D. I eagerly accepted the gift and loaded both pistols. Did he know I possessed two guns or was this simply a princely gift from a man that was grateful for my help? It didn't matter in the end. I planned on placing at least one of these projectiles deep in the black heart of Grimjack.

"I should have killed you all those years ago." I muttered as the clock struck eleven. "One more hour."

My emotions began boiling in my gut. There was the familiar surge of excitement, fear, and uncertainty. I wanted to kill this creature. I wanted to end his life. The rush of bloodlust rose up and filled me with the pulsing of my hearts. The fierce staccato of the quadruple beat filled my ears. I heard someone racing up the steps and my door opened without anyone knocking. Russell stood there, and he looked angry. He cursed as he retrieved the larger case from the closet. The long string of vitriol continued as he opened the case and retrieved his long gun. He opened a smaller compartment and removed the optics for the rifle. He systematically examined every inch of gun and sight to make sure they had travelled safely. Satisfied he attached the optic to the long gun and loaded the weapon.

"I won't shoot unless someone else attempts to intervene."

"I trust your judgement." I told him.

Russell sat on the floor opposite the door and took out a leather shod metal flask. He unscrewed the lid and took a swig. He offered it to me and winked. I took it and sniffed the contents. The scent of roses and fruit made my mouth water. I thought the last of the Winter Mist was long gone. But here it was in this flask. I took a single shot and handed it back. I needed to keep my wits about me. I asked him where he had gotten it or had he been hoarding it all these years. His reply was simple. During one of his assignments a few years back he came across a burned out building in Pass Wall. He had taken refuge in the basement of that house and discovered part of the foundation damaged. Behind it he found an entire case of Winter Mist. It is safe, and sound hidden away for special occasions. I savored the slight burn followed by the rush of euphoria.

"It's getting close," Russell muttered. "I better get into position. I will be your guardian angel."

"We'll celebrate after I put this mad dog down."

I sat alone until just five minutes before the hour. Some of the townsfolk began to gather outside as I looked out of the hotel window. I strapped on my guns and slipped my duster on. I made my way out to the street feeling the rush of uncertainty. It was like the day I had arrived. Everyone was watching me but as the clock struck noon their gazes shifted to the other figure striding from the other end of town. Grimjack was wearing the remnants of his confederate uniform. He had torn off the patches leaving nothing but the basic jacket. Though it had only been a few years he had aged a decade or more. His once ebony locks were now graying and shorn short close to his scalp.

"Duskwalker," he called out to me. "It is time to end things between us."

"I agree. I should have put you in the ground years ago. It was a mistake to let you live."

"It is good to see you haven't changed. Are you ready?" He asked, and I nodded. "Good. Let's go on ten. You... boy, count backward down from ten as loud as you can."

The young orc child looked at his mother and she placed her hands on his shoulders. The boy's voice cracked when he called out ten but as he continued his voice grew steadier and louder. My attention focused on my adversary. Tunnel vision becomes inevitable as the pounding my heartbeats crashed in my ears. As the count neared its end I shifted my weight to my left foot. My right hand brushed at my duster as it settled onto my pistol. When I heard the child call out one I moved my right foot back describing an elegant arc. I spun on the ball of my left foot offering Grimjack a much smaller target. I faced him with my left shoulder aimed at my foe. He had drawn his weapon and fired from the hip. The bullet kicked up dirt several feet behind me. I shifted my weight onto my right foot now and as I repeated the action I drew my own pistol and fired. My round struck but was low and pierced his abdomen. The orc staggered back and fired twice more. His second bullet missed but the third struck me firmly in my side. I cried out at the impact but managed to remain standing and took aim and fired. Grimjack was so intent on my demise that his only strategy was to fire as many bullets as he could. I squeezed the trigger and my next round found its mark. His head snapped back as the back of his skull exploded outwards. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The doctor rushed to my side as I sank to the ground. I held my side and whimpered. My hearts were still pounding awaiting the report of a sniper's return fire, but it never came. Every breath hurt like hell and when the doctor examined my side he stared at me in disbelief.

"He hit you," doc said. "I saw it."

"The bullet hit my duster," I said breathing as shallow as I could. "It is dragon hide, a gift from an old friend."

I was badly bruised along with a cracked rib, but I would live. Doc patched me up and I was ordered to rest. I told him I would spend plenty of time in bed. He handed me my duster and I saw him pinch the dragon hide between thumb and forefinger. I understood his confusion how something so thin and light could so easily stop a bullet. I was forced to move slowly. It wasn't so bad until I reached the bottom of the steps leading up to my room. I cursed under my breath as I raised my foot for the first step. I fought to control my breathing as I worked at a snail's pace up the stairs. I eventually reached my bed with a little help from Doc. A short time passed before the two young ladies arrived. There was an especially hungry gleam in the human's eyes. The elf had done her work to perfection.

"I knew you'd do it." Mary said her lips quivering in anticipation.

"We both did," Cerulean murmured. "You are hurt. I guess we will be doing all the work."

"Pity," the human moaned. "Let's get him out of those clothes."