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Chapter Twenty Three

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As Coaldust hurried off, Harliss put her hands behind her head, and her boots up on the table, reclining in as casual a position as possible. She made a point to complete ignore whoever was shouting insults at her. “That was an interesting conversation.”

“Yup.” Tormin rested his shotgun back on the table, but it was no longer facing away from the crowd. “Real interesting.” 

“Oh, yes,” Evlee said, tracking someone behind Harliss with one pistol. “Very interesting.” 

“Hey! Union bitch! I’m talking to you!” The same angry voice cried out, closer now. “You better tell your friends to those fuckin’ guns down, or it’s gonna start raining bullets from every damn direction!”

“Are they aiming at us?” Harliss waited till Tormin gave a tiny shake of his head. She responded with an equally impercentible nod, a motion small enough that only Tormin and Evlee were likely to even notice. Evlee slipped her pistols back into their holsters, and Tormin removed his hand from his shotgun. “And who are we dealing with?”

“Big va’chaak,” Tormin said, his lip curling into a sneer. “Pistol on his hip, but not drawn. Dark green, black clothes. Looks real mad.” 

“Yeah,” Evlee said. “His little head things are all red and standing up.” 

“Probably Prav’s ‘fuck-off’ messenger.” She flicked her eyes between her friends, making sure they were in agreement. “Let’s try polite first. And if that doesn’t work, well, I’m going to get rude.” 

“How rude?” Tormin never took his eyes off the approaching va’chaak. 

“We’ll play it by ear, but ruder than our lizard friend is going to enjoy.” Harliss saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and held her hand out to Coaldust.

The urd’thin handed Harliss the drink, whispering up to her. “That’s Yorlok, one of Prav’s bodyguards, and the bar manager. He’s an asshole. Be careful.”

Harliss nodded to him, “Thank you, Coaldust.” 

“Certainly, ma’am.” He hurried over to the wooden post where he’d thrown the knife earlier, then rested his back up against it. “I’ll be here if you need me.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Coaldust!” The angry voice was now just behind Harliss. “Get the fuck back to work, you lazy little rodent! You ain’t gettin’ paid to stand there lookin’ pretty, go suck a cock or something!” 

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Evlee waved at Coaldust, smiling. “We’ve paid for his company for two hours. So he is working.” 

“Am I talking to you, gutter-slag?” The va’chaak gave a little snarl, then turned his attention back to the urd’thin. “Coaldust, beat it, or I’m gonna beat-”

“Leave him alone.” The smile never left Evlee’s face, but Harliss saw the mischief draining from her eyes, replaced by something far colder, and far, far more dangerous. “Coaldust is working for his pay, he’s doing everything he’s been asked.” 

“Listen here, you genocidal Union rat-fuck, I wasn’t talking to you!” The va’chaak snarled again. Harliss watched his shadow carefully, saw him gesture at her. “I was trying to get your boss bitch’s attention, but if you really wanna talk to me that badly? Fine!” 

The va’chaak took a few threatening steps towards Evlee, but the moment he passed alongside Harliss, she thrust her arm out, barring his way. All the pretense of friendliness was gone from her voice, now, and though she remained polite, her words were cold, authoritative, and completely in command. “That’s far enough, thank you.” 

“Oh, is it?” The va’chaak glowered down at her. “So, you finally notice me huh? Real funny trick, pretendin’ to be deaf, you Union Bitch.” 

Harliss lowered her arm, once the Va’chaak turned towards her. “I’m sorry, I don’t answer to Union Bitch.” She took a sip of whiskey. “You will refer to me as Executor Harliss.” 

“Fuck you!” The va’chaak slapped her boots off the table. “Get your fuckin’ feet off my table. Gods-damn, do you even know who I am?” 

Across the table, Tormin and Evlee put their hands back on their guns. 

Harliss took another sip, shrugging. “I think that question works better the other around, because…” She laughed to herself. “I am vastly more important than you’ll ever be.” 

The va’chaak leaned down, baring all his many, sharp teeth. He was big, by va’chaak standards, taller than anyone else in the bar. Muscles rippled under his dark green scales. His bulky frame barely fit in his formal-cut black shirt, and trousers. Several gold chains adorned his neck, with golden rings pierced through the crimson-hued frills adorning his vaguely dragon-like had. Golden eyes glared at her, narrowed in fury. 

“You think you’re real hot shit, just cause you’re an Executor?” He snorted at her, unpleasant breath blasted across her face. “Well, I run this bar, and I count fifty guns with owners looking to put a bullet in anyone from the Union, especially some fancy, high-ranking bitch like you.” 

Harliss scrunched up her face. “Only fifty?” She clucked her tongue, then smiled and laughed again. “You should have brought a lot more. Because yes, I am hot shit.” She glanced at her friends. “Ugly expression though, don’t you think? Whoever decided heated feces was going to be mean you’re good at something?” 

“Listen, Bitch-”

“And last I heard, your name was Yorklok, not Prav.” Harliss sharpened her voice as she cut him off. “So no, this isn’t your bar. So tuck your ugly tail back between your legs, and return to your master while you can still walk, and tell him Executor Harliss is waiting to see him.” She sipped her whisky, sighing in satisfaction. “Be sure to get the name right. It’s important.” 

“Fuck your name!” Yorlok slapped the glass out of her hand. It tumbled through the air, whiskey flying everywhere. The vessel hit the floor and shattered, scattering glass in all directions. In the pub’s nervous silence, the startling crack may as well have been a blast from a cannon. “And fuck your title! Get the fuck out of my bar! Prav don’t wanna see you, and you ain’t welcome here anymore!” 

Harliss turned her head to stare at the broken glass and spilled whiskey. “Now, that was just rude.” 

“Last chance!” Yorlok thrust his finger towards the exit. “Get the fuck out of my bar, before you have to be dragged out.” 

“Counter-offer!” Harliss thrust her own finger towards a nearby chair in open imitation of him. “Pull up a chair, and have a drink with us. I really dislike being loomed over. So why don’t you sit down, and we can have a polite conversation?” She smiled at him. “Oh, and what else was it you said? Oh, right.” Her smile faded. “Last chance.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Yorlok stared at her, his jaws hanging open. “Oh, that’s it. Somebody drag this bitch out by her fucking hair! And if she resists, shoot her!” 

“Oh, very well,” Harliss said with a shrug. “Impolite it is.” 

In a single, smooth, impossibly fast motion, Harliss surged to her feet, drew one of her pistols, and slammed her knee into the scaly monster’s crotch. The lizard gave a great, agonized cough, doubling over to grab himself. As he dropped to his knees, bug-eyed, Harliss jammed her pistol barrel into his throat, hard enough to leave him choking and gagging. With her free hand, she disarmed him, pulling his own gun from his belt. She tossed it onto the table, near Evlee. Harliss stared down at Yorlok, waiting for the gravity of the situation to catch up to the pain she’d put him in. 

When he managed a few gasping breaths, she smiled. “Yes, you’re right. Impolite is better. Wouldn’t you say?” 

“Ooooh,” Coaldust gave a sympathetic groan. “You couldn’t pay me enough to take a take a blow like that.” 

Evlee leaned forward, her elbow on the table and her chin in the hand. “You know, I didn’t even realize lizards had those.” 

“They aren’t really lizards.” Tormin lifted his shotgun from the table, just in case. “Those monsters are warm blooded, they just happen to have scales. Like dragons.” 

“Oooh, fascinating!” Evlee glanced back at the va’chaak. “I warned you about your rudeness.” 

Harliss let them banter. She knew them well enough to know how well they worked together. They might drive each other mad, from time to time, but when the guns came out, they played off each other perfectly. Even their banter, Tormin’s dismissive attitude, Evlee’s seeming obliviousness to the seriousness of the moment, it was all part of a carefully choreographed act. Harliss knew even now, Evlee’s eyes were roaming the crowds, watching for hands on guns. Tormin was watching entrances and exits. 

“Now,” Harliss said, pressing her gun harder into the lizard’s throat. “Are you going to behave yourself?” 

Yorlok gagged, a dribble of blood ran down her pistol’s barrel. He managed to nod. 

“Good.” Harliss twisted the barrel back and forth. “Because I’m out of patience with you. Now, I’m going to pull this gun back, and you’re going to be nice, and respectful. Got it?” 

The lizard nodded again, groaning in pain. 

Harliss glanced at the others, making sure they were ready to cover her, just in case. Then pulled back her gun, waving the barrel at him. “See? All you had to do was take a seat, and have a little chat. That’s all I asked. Now, why don’t you crawl back to Prav, and tell him I’m tired of waiting.” 

Yorlok rubbed himself, groaning again. “Aww, my balls! He doesn’t…want to see you, you…crazy bitch!” 

Harliss sighed, rolling her eyes. “You know what? I’m done with you.” 

Executor Harliss lashed out with her gun, whipping it across the front of the Va’chaak’s muzzle. Scales split and blood splattered his shirt. With a cry, the lizard toppled over onto his side. He grabbed at his rent snout, cursing again, but Harliss wasn’t done. She aimed the pistol down, and this time, fired a shot right through Yorlok’s foot. The gunshot came as a deafening roar, rending the silence like a furious beast. Blood splayed across the floor and the bullet lodged somewhere in the wood. The acrid scents of gun smoke and the copper tint of blood mingled in the air, familiar, sickening, and exhilarating all at once. Yorlok screamed, curling up to grasp his ruined foot. 

“On your right!” Tomrin’s voice rang like a warning bell, just after the first crack faded. 

Familiar movements in that direction was all Harliss needed. At another table, another man was rising and drawing his own pistol. Before he’d even managed to fully clear his holster, Harliss put a round through his shooting shoulder. The impact sent a spray of blood behind him, spun him around and sent him tumbling into a screaming heap. In his fall, his gun went off, and the sharp boom of gunfire was joined by the telltale crack of a bullet streaking by her, all near too. It splattered into the wood just above Coaldust’s head. He shrieked and ducked, covering his ears. 

“On the left!” Evlee cried out her own warning, and a second later, fired off her own shot. The bullet struck another va’chaak in the leg, just as he was running for a rifle resting upon the nearby bar. He cried out, rolling head over tail across the floor.

Two more people went for their guns, on opposite sides of the room. Harliss fired on a gnoll guard hefting his scattergun, striking him inside the shoulder, where his arm met his body, shattering his collarbone. At the same time, a scruffy-haired human near the far wall tried to pull his pistol. Harliss beat him to the draw and put a shot right through his arm. The gun fell to the ground, and he fell with it, screaming and grabbing his bloodied limb. 

The loudest roar yet rang out behind her as Tormin fired off a blast from his shotgun. An upper story railing just above them disintegrated, and pieces of a door blew off, driving back whoever was emerging. Just as quickly, he unloaded a second round at another door where a rifle barrel was just emerging. After that, there was a moment of stillness. No one else dared to move. The sounds of gunfire faded to an echoing ringing in her ears.

Harliss called out, lifting her voice over the moans and screams. “Listen up, and listen good! If you’ve just been shot, take a moment to realize you’re still alive! I assure you, that is not by accident! Consider that a gesture of good will! A gesture that will not be extended any further! So be all means, feel free to take a few shots at me, if you think you’re fast enough! But trust me when I say, you’re not!” 

Behind her, Tormin spoke, his tones hushed and somber. “How far you taking this?”

“As far as I fucking need to, to get my point across.” Harliss climbed onto her chair, then hopped up onto the table. “Cover the balconies!”

“Aw, shit,” Evlee said, moving with Tormin to better cover Harliss, and each other. “I think she’s actually mad.” 

“Yup.” Tormin swiftly replaced his spent shells while Evlee covered the room. “Here comes the Executor Harliss show. Might as well try and enjoy it.” 

“I always enjoy the show!” Evlee took another step around Harliss, watching the room. “Covered, Executor. Reload!”

Harliss deftly popped her cylinders open, swapping spent cartridges for fresh ones from her gunbelts. While her bodyguards had the crowded tavern under watch, she spared a glance at Coaldust. “Stay down behind that post!”

Coaldust looked her way, lowering his hands from his ears. The urd’thin seemed caught between terror and exhilaration, wide-eyed and trembling, but with a nervous sort of exhilaration gleaming in his eyes. “I sure as shit ain’t going anywhere else!” 

Executor Harliss snapped her cylinders back into place. Though she’d only fired three rounds from one gun, and a single shot from the other, she always preferred to be fully-loaded whenever possible. More than that, she appreciated the drama of so casually reloading a few spent rounds, in full view of everyone. It was part of the persona she so enjoyed exuding, to project absolute confidence at all times. It also gave anyone else who might want to take a shot at her a chance to do so while she was at a disadvantage, were they foolish enough to think they could outshoot her bodyguards. 

Harliss scanned the stunned, uneasy crowd. The only movement were those writhing in pain, still bleeding on the floor, the only sounds, their moans and screams. Beyond the windows, guards with guns watched her performance. She hoped, for their sake, Hatha kept them from charging in and opening fire. If they did, her own soldiers would sweep in behind them, and then chaos would erupt. Harliss did not want a war with thugs and pirates, but she was more than ready to win one if she had to.

“None of you wanted to try your luck? How very wise of you, and yet…” Harliss raised her voice to a booming call, louder even than the anguished cries. “How very disappointing!” She pointed a gun at Yorlok, circling it in the air. “This slimy little lizard shit here told me there fifty guns ready to put a bullet in me! Now, maybe I miscounted, but it sure didn’t seem like we took down fifty people yet! So, come one, come all!” She spread her arms wide, offering herself as a target. “Who’s next? There oughta be at least forty three of you left, just itchin’ to take a shot an Executor! But don’t worry, I got bullets enough for all of ya!” 

Her only answer came in the form of a few nervous coughs. 

“No one?” Harliss dropped her arms back down. “Alright then, well, the offer stands. Take a shot at me if you want, but when you’re laying on the floor, drowning in your own blood, wondering how it ever came to that? Before you die, remember! I warned you!” Harliss swept her pistols across the crowd as if seeking fresh targets. “You. Aren’t. Fast enough.” 

One front door opened, and Harliss’s pistols were aimed at them in a blink. Hatha walked in, his hands raised. Behind him, a few of his soldiers pointed rifles through the opening, only for Hatha to carefully close the door again with the heel of his boot. He took a few steps towards her, hands still up. Harliss gestured him forward with one of her guns, lowering the other to her side. 

“Hatha, perfect, just the gnoll I want to see.” She waved him closer. “Come here, come here.” 

Hatha skirted between tables, glancing at every wounded person along the way. “I thought I told you not to cause any trouble.”

“You did, and for that, I apologize.” Harliss bowed to him, then waggled her gun her at Yorlok. “Your scaly friend here holds half the blame, though. He really pushed my buttons, and he tried to kick us all out. I suppose not all of Prav’s goons can be as wise as you, Hatha.” 

Hatha flattened his ears, glancing at Yorlok, muttering something under his breath in the gnoll tongue. Whatever it was, sounded awfully insulting, but Harliss couldn’t be sure if it was meant for her, for Yorlok, or for both of them. “These people need medical attention.”

“Yes, they do!” Harliss shrugged. “You’re welcome to fetch them some, but, no one armed. And obviously, if anyone else goes for a gun, I’m going to have to put them down.” 

Hatha turned and started towards another exit.

“Oh, and Deputy?” Harliss glanced over him. The gnoll swiveled his ears towards her, but didn’t turn all the way around. “Before you come back, go ask Prav how many more of his thugs he’d like me to cripple before he’s ready to see me? Really, this whole debacle is his fault for refusing to see me immediately.” 

Hatha nodded, then vanished through another doorway. With him gone, Harliss once again called out to the entire crowd. Her bellowing voice resounded through the tavern, a grand carnival announcer in the midst of her favorite kind of performance. “While I hold your attention, allow me the honor of formerly introducing myself to one and all! I am Executor Harliss!” She crossed an arm over her middle, bowing dramatically, her eyes still leveled on the crowd. “The honor, I assure, is yours.” She straightened again, a darkly playful smile twisting her lips. “Because you’d better be fucking honored to meet me!” 

“Executor Harliss!” Evlee cried out, following Harliss’s lead. “The fastest gun in the Union!” 

“Executor Harliss!” Tormin bellowed right after her. “The law brought to the lawless, and the will of the Gods brought to the God-less!” 

Harliss spun her pistols around her hands. “Pistols forged in the fires of the blood of the Three Gods, and bullets guided by the Gods own hands!” She paused, her smile growing. Harliss wondered how many of them bought that bullshit. Some days, she almost believed it herself. “Wherever I go, the Union’s law and jurisdiction goes with me! I could fly my ship halfway around the fucking world, and wherever I went? I’d still be the fucking law! Because I’m gods-damned Sanctified! Ordained by the Church, Blessed by the Three gods, and for all you know, damn near unkillable! So go on, try and take a shot at me! Even if you’re fast enough on the draw, you’re probably gonna miss, and me? Well…” She mimed taking a shot at some poor, random kobold, who ducked under the table. “I won’t.” She smiled, dropping her gun back down. “Now, some of you probably don’t know what Sanctified means, so let me-”

The side door Hatha vanished through opened again, and a group of people laden with bandages and doctor’s bags stuffed with supplies hurried out into the room. Some were human, a few were va’chaak, and one was an urd’thin. They spared the Executor and her bodyguards nervous glances, but then swiftly got to work, bandaging wounds, stabilizing ruined limbs, and so on. Once the wounded were properly stabilized, they’d be carted off to whatever passed for the Emplacement’s infirmary. Harliss wasn’t sure how high quality their medical services might be here, but it wasn’t really her concern.

Hatha returned to stand in the doorway, with a new kobold at his side. The kobold stood less than half Hatha’s height, with burnt-red scales across his head, and arms, fading to paler beige colors towards his throat. He wore black, formal cut trousers, not unlike Yorlok, but tailored to fit kobold legs, and with nothing covering his little clawed feet. Instead of a shirt, he wore an ebony vest, with elaborate silver patterns embossed upon it. He also had at least four kobold-sized pistols strapped around his body, along with more bullets than Harliss could count. 

When Hatha started to speak, the kobold immediately held up his hand, and Hatha fell silence. Instead, the kobold spoke. “Baron Prav will see you now, Executor Harliss.” 

Harliss quirked a brow. “Baron now, was it?” She waved the kobold off. “You know what? Tell him to wait. I was about to explain to these good people how I came to be sanctified! Prav’s welcome to come here the story, if he wants.” 

“Prav will-”

“When I was a little girl,” Harliss said, cutting off the kobold’s reply. Her voice was once again the loudest thing in the room, carrying over agonized moans, and the murmurs of doctors and medics to wounded patients. “I lived in a little village, with my father. My mother died when I was quite young, you see. At the time, it was still controlled by the Empire of the Black Star. We were farmers, like most of the villagers. We raised crops, and we raised livestock. Pigs, mostly. And every year, we gave everything we raised to the Empire’s monsters, as did everyone.” 

As Harliss spoke, she paced back and forth across the table, gesturing with her pistols. Yet even as she talked, her eyes swept everywhere, attuned to any sign of moment, any twitch towards a pistol, any shift towards a rifle, anything. She knew her bodyguards were doing the same. The kobold who’d come to fetch her folded his arms, but did not leave. 

“We weren’t paid for our contributions, mind you.” Harliss shook her head, heaving an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, no, no, not at all. It was simply expected. Doing our part to feed the entire Empire, they said. We were allowed to keep just enough food to feed our meager family, and that was it. My father worked his fingers to the bone, keeping that farm running. Just to keep me fed. And yet, year by year, somehow, we ended up keeping less and less of our own crops, our own pigs! Father had to take up odd jobs, doing repair work in the village, and so on, just to earn a coin here or there to make sure I’d have something to eat at night, more often than not.” 

Harliss paused at one end of the table, gazing down at Yorlok, where a medic was busy bandaging up his injured foot. “Come to think of it, it was lizards like you who responsible for collecting all the local farm’s contributions. Funnily enough, as the rumors of war with the Union circulated, the lizards started getting greedier, and greedier, asking for more and more.” She waggled her gun at him, then pivoted away. “Funny how that works. They got meaner, too. They’d always been quick to anger, quick to violence, the whole village lived in fear of them. But the closer the war got, the worse they came. Beating people unconscious just for saying the wrong thing, or looking at them for too long.” Harliss took a slow, deep breath. “Till one day, they decided my father wasn’t giving them enough food. Mind you, we’d turned in everything that was asked for us, every single year. We’d never once held back. And yet, one night, four of them showed up at our house.” 

The Executor paced again, back and forth across the tabletop. “Claiming we’d illegally stashed away food of own, and that if we didn’t give it up immediately, they’d have my father jailed.” She paused, flourishing one of her pistols. “Now, jailed was usually code for executed. Of course, we didn’t have anything left to give them! Just our food, the tiny, meager amount we were supposedly legally allowed to keep. The lizards tried to claim that, and when my father tried to stop them, one of them smashed a fist right into his face!” She punched the air with her gun, grunting for emphasis. “Shattered his nose, just like that. He went down, gushing blood, trying not to cry out. Trying to be strong, for me.” Her voice darkened, pain and anger creeping in, word by bitter word. “Wasn’t the first time I’d seen them hit my father, mind you, not the first time I’d seen them bleed him a bit.” 

Harliss paused to let that sink in, pivoting on her heel to take in the room. Nearly everyone was in rapt attention now, even if only out of fear for what the Executor might do next. Evlee and Tormin gave her barely noticeable nods, reassurance that they still had everyone covered, just in case, for as long as she might need them assistance. 

“With my father on his knees, the lizards went outside. We had one pig left, a sow, with piglets on the way. That pig was ours, and her piglets were to be ours, too. The only livestock we had left after raising dozens and dozens, just to give them away. But the lizards disagreed, and the leader, the local Empire deputy law enforcer?” Harliss pointed her gun towards a twitchy-looking gnoll in the crowd, who cringed and looked away. “Went outside with his second, pulled his pistol, and shot our sow right in the head. My father ran outside, leaving two of the lizards to ransack our belongings. My father, still bleeding all over himself, tried to argue with them, tried to tell them we needed that pig to survive the winter. Of course, by then it was too late, but at least we could have preserved the meat. But the deputy didn’t like the back talk, so he simply turned around…” Harliss shrugged, then spun on her heel, pointing her gun at the kobold standing next to Hatha. His hands were on his own guns impressively quick, but he wisely kept them holstered as she went on. “And shot my father.” 

Harliss gave a sharp cry, stumbling back, grabbing her shoulder. “Only hit him in the shoulder, thank the Three Gods, but even a wound like that could be fatal. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to work the farm, anymore. He went down, unable to stop from screaming…and then the lizards started arguing. Maybe they should just go ahead and kill us, claim we attacked them. And…and seeing my father like that…” Harliss’s voice softened, her gaze distance, throat tightening, just a little. “A man who’d always seemed so strong, brought so low, bleeding out into the mud, just for trying to feed his little girl?” She took a breath, shaking her head. “Something in my just…” Just as quickly, her voice was a snarl, dark and terrible. “Snapped. While the lizards were distracted, I went for their leader’s gun. Somehow, I managed to wrench it out of his grip. For a second, a long, long second, he only stared at me.” 

Harliss held her pistol up, the weapon trembling noticeably. “The gun was heavy. Far heavier than I thought it would be. I’d never fired a gun, before, but I knew the gist of it. I knew the safety was off cause he’d already fired it. I knew all I had to do was pull the trigger, and the hammer would cock itself, cause I’d seen him do it twice, now. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father’s face. Horrified. A look so much worse than the moment earlier, when they shot him. He knew, even more than I did, that they were going to kill me for taking the gun. So I aimed it at their leader with both hands, and I pulled the trigger. Bullet went in through his chin, and erupted the top of his head.” Harliss traced the trajectory with the barrel of her pistol. “Like that.” 

By now, even some of medics were paying attention. Harliss spotted Coaldust, watching her from behind the wooden pillar. Hatha gazed at her, his muzzle slightly ajar. The kobold still had his hands on his guns, but Evlee had him covered, just in case. And besides, she had a tale to finish spinning. 

“The sound and the sight were the same, it seemed so much louder somehow, when I was the one pulling the trigger. As if the great boom was not the bullet leaving the gun, but the sound of his skull exploding. I knew the gun would jump, but it did so with such force I nearly lost my grip on it. It jerked my arms, and shuddered through my bones. I stumbled back, and another shot rang out. This one came from behind me.” 

Harliss made a show of stumbling, then awkwardly spun around. “The second in command had pulled his own gun, and tried to shoot me. At the same time, something cracked the air, just alongside my head. I didn’t even realize it was a bullet, at the time. I always thought they’d whiz, or buzz, but they don’t. When they’re that close, they just sound like a second, smaller gun shot. He fired again, and that one missed me as well, on the other side. I shot back at him, caught him in the belly. He stumbled, fell over, dropping his gun and grabbing his guts.”

“By then, the other two lizards were coming out of our house. As soon as they saw what was happening, they both opened fire as well. One bullet skimmed my dress, another ruffled my hair, but none of them actually touched me. I fired at the first one, struck him right in the chest, knocking him off his feet. The other got a third shot off, and it went just under my arm, another crack, and a bullet splattering the dirt somewhere behind me. At the same time, I was catching my balance, and aiming at him again, and pulling the trigger. I could…just see the confusion in his eyes. In a strange, detached away, just as I fired my last bullet, I knew what he was thinking. How the hell did this little girl get a gun, and why can’t anyone hit her? This can’t be how I die!” Harliss tapped the pistol to her forehead. “But it was. Hit that last bastard right between his lizard eyes. He just…crumpled. I threw the gun away, ran to my father, and sobbed into his bloody shirt. And…” She took a shaking breath. “That was the first day we were free. And years later, when they looked to name me Executor? That was my first miracle, my first time surviving the un-survivable, the first time I was truly Sanctified.”

Harliss draped an arm across her waist, and bowed to the crowd. “And that what Sanctified means! Whether I’m blessed by the gods, or just real fucking lucky, that’s me.” She straightened up, tapping her gun barrel to her chest. “Sanctified. So keep that in mind, if you feel like trying your luck against an Executor. Cause I’m gonna be here a while, and I’m happy to take all comers. But if you dare to draw against me? Just remember! The next time I stand up on a table in a tavern, I might be telling a story about you!”

With that, Executor Harliss made a show of dropping her pistols back into her holsters. She jumped off the table, and turned away from the crowd without another word. Instead, she strode over to Hatha and Kobold, and offered the scaly little gunslinging her friendliest smile. 

“I believe you said Prav was ready for us, now?” 

The kobold glared up at her, then snorted, turned around, tail swishing, and walked into an adjoining hallway. “Crazy fucking Executors. This way.” 

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