“It smells really bad,” said Donut. Mongo grunted in agreement. We turned down the street and edged our way toward the NPC.
“Oh, Carl,” Donut said as we got closer. “Did you know she would be here?”
“No,” I said. “But the system knew we’d be coming this way.”
It was GumGum the orc. I watched as the large woman easily tossed a dead body onto a pile of other bodies in the middle of the street. It was a mix of humans, orcs, elves, and dwarves. There were about fifteen of them, all piled on top of one another.
I attempted to examine one of the dead NPCs, but the system helpfully grouped them all together for me.
Pile of Dead Hookers.
Well, isn’t this awkward?
Sure enough, all of the corpses appeared to be female. All of them wore provocative clothing. They were all contorted and bent in odd ways, as if the manner of death had been by a giant picking them up and twisting them like dish rags. One of them, a dwarf, didn’t appear to have a head at all. The whole pile oozed with mud-like gore.
“So,” I said, stepping forward. GumGum startled and whirled on me, “this isn’t something you see every day.”
“Adventurer,” she said. She wiped her hand on her shirt. It left a smear of brown. “I was hoping to catch you on your return today. I spied your party leaving this morning.”
“And you thought to greet us with a mountain of rotting prostitutes?” Donut asked. “I’m not sure where you’re from, but the cultured amongst us no longer use corpses as icebreakers. Next time maybe just bring Carl a milkshake. He likes milkshakes.”
“These are the women I’ve found today,” GumGum said. “Something is killing them, and we don’t know what it is. And we don’t know who these women are, either. They’re not from this town. We find them in the alleys, scattered throughout every morning. Most of their blood is removed from their bodies.” She wiped her hand on her pants. “But not all the blood. We pile them up outside the gates, and the street urchins take care of them. But we find new ones every day. Sometimes it’s just one or two, but sometimes, like last night, it’s a lot.” GumGum took a deep breath, and I realized she was holding back tears. “It’s not right. The skyfowl don’t care as long we move the bodies out. The guards don’t work at night. But these were people, and they’re just dead. And I don’t know why. Can you help me?”
“Uh oh,” Donut said just before the notification came.
New Quest. The Sex Workers Who Fell from the Heavens.
Prostitutes. Escorts. Street Walkers. Ladies of the Night.
It doesn’t matter how you describe them because these chicks are dead. Very dead. And every morning, several more of them appear scattered throughout the village. Nobody knows who they are or where they come from. Find out why.
Reward: You will receive a Silver Quest Box.
“Silver?” Donut said. “The last quest was a gold box.”
“The last one involved a couple elites and a city boss. This one must be easier,” I said. I leaned in and examined one of the dead women. This one was a human. She had distinctive wounds on her shoulders. I’d almost missed it because her entire body had been twisted so her pelvis faced the wrong way. The orc next to her held the same injuries. All the pale bodies seemed to glow in the dying light of the day.
“Well, Mordecai is going to be upset,” Donut said.
“We’ll see what we can do,” I said to GumGum before we turned back into town. After we passed through the gates, I thought of what Mordecai had said the previous evening. You can’t save them all.
“Don’t worry,” I said to Donut once GumGum was out of earshot. “We had a good day today. I’m not going to let it get derailed by a quest.”
“That’s what you said last time,” said Donut.
15
Entering the Desperado Club
The first room of the loud, garish Desperado Club was open to the general public. It was packed.
The exterior of the building looked straight out of 1920s New York City. It was all square, concrete columns with a semi-circular relief punctuated by triangular, sun-like rays, similar to the construction style of the top of the Empire State Building. The club took up an entire street and rose a good six stories into the air. The glowing, neon knife logo spun above that.
“This place seems much too big for this town,” I said as we stepped past a bored-looking rock monster bouncer and into the main room.
“There are two main clubs in the Over City,” Mordecai said. “The Desperado Club and Club Vanquisher. Generally, once you have access to one, you’re not allowed in the other. This one is easier to get into. Club Vanquisher is more like a country club where old clerics sit on leather chairs and smoke pipes and occasionally tell racist jokes. This place is like your Las Vegas Strip mixed in with Mardi Gras and the discos of the 1970s.”
“This sounds much better,” Donut said. She did that little neck bob before she jumped up on my shoulder, and I knew she was overly excited.
“Oh, believe me, it is,” Mordecai said.
“I want to try one of Miss Beatrice’s favorite drinks. Either a Sex on the Beach or a Long Island Iced Tea. Or that one. What is it, Carl? She always says it’s her Kryptonite.”
“A Dirty Shirley,” I said.
“Yeah, I want to try that one.”
“Cats don’t drink cocktails,” I said.
“Cats don’t shoot lasers from their eyes, either, but here we are, Carl. Mama needs a night off.”
We followed Mordecai as we walked through the busy pub. Multiple NPCs and actual crawlers littered the room. It felt as if all eyes were on us. The crawlers watched us. The NPCs stared at Mordecai.
“Mongo would love this place,” Donut said wistfully from her perch on my shoulder. The dinosaur had screamed furiously when Donut had pulled out the pet carrier.
“He probably would,” I said. I eyed one of the burly, rock-skinned bouncers standing in the corner. “But we aren’t going to find out.”
“This first room is exclusive to this town,” Mordecai said. “Any local can come here. You do not need a pass. Crawlers who’ve yet to obtain access can come here and pick up quests to win themselves a tattoo.”
We approached a red, glittering door at the back of the room. We pushed our way through and found ourselves in a small vestibule leading to another door. Sitting in a chair in front of this second door was a lizard-faced monster. This was the same race of creature as that crawler we’d seen on the recap show, the one with the shotgun.
Clarabelle – Crocodilian. Level 40.
Employee of the Desperado Club.
This is a Non-Combatant NPC.
Crocodilians are an intelligent, thick-skinned, semi-aquatic race. They tend not to be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they’re certainly more intelligent than their smaller cousins, the Troglodytes. They are inclined to work as muscle or enforcers for both legitimate and not-so-legitimate organizations throughout the universe.
“Hello, Mordecai,” Clarabelle said. “You know that disguise can’t fool me.”
“It’s not a disguise when I have no control over it,” Mordecai said drily. Then a huge smile spread across his face. He leaned forward and kissed the bouncer on both cheeks. “What’s it like in there?”
“Dead. But there’s more people than there were last night.” The bouncer looked at me and then Donut in turn. “I’ve seen you two on the recap show. Where’s your pet?”
“Mongo?” Donut asked. “You know about Mongo? He’d be so excited to meet a fan! He’s in a pet carrier. Do you want me to take him out?”
“No. Do not let him out. I’m glad you have a carrier. The pet room is currently out of order. We don’t want another incident like last night. I see you two both have a pass. The bar and dance floor are open. The casino isn’t ready yet, but you can probably find a card game if you look hard enough. We’ll open it up in a few days.”