Tales of the Wastelander Ch. 34 - Teaser (Patreon)

The men who were once part of Nahr’khan’s slaving group made their way down the streets that morning. While the place they were staying at provided decent food, it wasn’t the fare that any of the men enjoyed. They milled about the streets, looking for a place to get some food while discussing their business in hushed tones. No one dared look in their direction, as it was clear these men would tear apart anyone who got into their business.

“—As I was saying, we really need to step up and make a real show of this if we are to make people think we’re serious!” Rishko stated, keeping the attention on himself.

“Sounds like you’re starting to learn!” Graust, the smarter man of the group, chimed in.

“We don’t learn about what we did wrong, then we die. Isn’t that what could be said about anyone who does what we do?” Rishko asked.

Some of the men there nodded in mute agreement, their heads not much use outsider of their own personal desires. Bro’khail, the juggernaut of the group, kept his opinions to himself. He let the others lead on most matters, unless he had a point that he needed to make. The man was clever, far cleverer than what even Graust was capable of, but he kept that to himself.

The man knew that making it appear that you were the smartest man in the room was a double-edged sword. Oh sure, there were plenty of benefits to be had, but also just as many drawbacks. One of which was the fact that if you were seen as the smart one, everyone knew you had a plan ready. Or that you could see things coming and would be adequately prepared.

Such assertions often made you the first to get killed, as you would often be seen as a threat by others. If you were quiet and kept to the background, people tended to overlook you and your abilities. People looking past you, thinking you were no threat, would work to your advantage if you played your cards right. Having such a stance had served Bro’khail well, and he had no intention of stopping that now.

“Well… I think this place will do well for a place to eat!” Rishko said as he brought the group to a halt outside of a café. It was a well-appointed place, with plenty of pretty faces working the tables. The men there leered at the serving girls happily, glad to see that Rishko was picking places they would all enjoy.

“Ummm… excuse me? I’m looking for a… Rishko?” said a small and somewhat timid voice.

“Yeah, that’s me! What is it, boy?” Rishko asked, looking down at the kid, who was barely more than a teenager.

“I’m a mail courier. Delivery for you, sir!” the boy said, offering Rishko an envelope made with heavy grade paper.

“Thank you! Anything else for me?” Rishko questioned.

“No, sir! Good day!” the boy said as he trotted off, eager to be away from the group of toughs.

“I think you scared the boy!” Graust chuckled out loud.

“Well, he should be! If he knows what’s good for him!” Rishko laughed as he tore open the letter and read what was on the paper. The man then chuckled and laughed as he smiled at the letter’s contents.

“What is it, man? Good news?” one of the slavers questioned.

“The best news! Cluster in!” Rishko told them, so only they could see it and no passerby could. Their eyes widened collectively, each one of them grinning at the sight of what they were reading. All except Bro’khail.

“They just… sent us another invitation? Just like that?” the big man wondered, thinking the whole thing was a little suspicious.

“They have! I told you that if we made enough noise about who we are, they’d make sure we would be admitted!” Rishko said in an ‘I told you so!’ voice.

“You did, man! I think we should all have a nice big breakfast to celebrate!” Graust replied. His celebratory mood was met with hearty enthusiasm, as the men there were more than happy to be getting into the Flesh Fair as honored guests!

“I’m not convinced. Something is wrong,” Bro’khail stated, shaking his head.

The language of the invitation was a little too flowery for his liking. There was too much of it, along with the fact that many of the men there had been kicking a complete stink over something they had no power over. To the big man, this stank to high heaven and he had no wish to get involved in something that reeked of a setup.