Thunderlight

(Cont.) Stolen

Montgomery's arm is snatched before he can protest, and another mercenary shoves Lenny forward. Not a single one of them dares to touch Hilda, especially after she glowers at one of them until they look ready to pee themselves. Still, she walks forward on her own, following them close behind.

"Uh, hey, Hilda?" Montgomery snaps over his shoulder as he's dragged away. "Why don't you, I don't know, stop them?!"

Her eyes are stony as she marches forward. "Want to meet this sick boss. Want to pound their face in."

Montgomery scarcely has a moment to insist they don't have time for this before he's hauled off.

As they're being pushed and shoved through the town, Montgomery's skin only crawls more. This place is disgusting. Fecal matter and other waste trickle through the streets, wafting a noxious stench that makes his gag reflexes work overtime. The humidity only adds to the revolting smell, somehow making the scent feel sticky. Montgomery shudders at the very thought.

The people aren't much better than the place. Their homes may be rusting and crumbling, but they're more dirt than flesh and they look on the verge of collapse. Every pair of eyes are vacant and dry and longing, like a desert that once new great rains. In towns like these, the square is usually bustling with noise and activity. The only noise here is the occasional sniffle and cough, and the only activity seems to be sitting around and waiting to die.

He turns to exchange a look of disgust with Lenny, only, Lenny doesn't seem inclined to share it. Instead, his eyes pool with some great, unnamable sadness.

"This is awful," Lenny whispers to himself as he watches a mercenary rip moldy bread from the mouth of a child. "Just awful."

"Why," Hilda demands, making the mercenaries jump. "Why do you take so much."

The krokorok musters all his courage just to glance back at her and respond. "Ain't it obvious? Our boss is the strongest there is; no one can beat him! If somebody wants protection from a guy like that, they gotta be ready to pay big bucks to keep him. What would stop him from offering his protection to a higher paying town?"

"Basic empathy?" Lenny suggests. He's shoved for his efforts.

"Empathy ain't shit," the krokorok sneers. "Economics is where it's at."

Montgomery may hate the guy, but he's got a point. If their boss is as strong as they say, and the town wants his protection, of course he's gonna demand a high price. But if they keep bleeding the town dry, how are they gonna get paid? Eventually, the town will run out of things to give.

That's when it strikes him: that's the point. Protect a town, bleed it dry, and then move onto the next high-paying town. That way, they'll make bank on every town and then have an excuse to leave it for a higher bidder.

Economics.

They pass an old man cradling a sick child as Bela sits nearby and comforts them. When she sees the three of them being bullied down the street, her eyes widen like saucers. Hastily, she jumps to her feet and gallops over.

"What's going on?" She asks, her eyes darting between the mercenaries and them. "Is everything okay?"

"No!" Montgomery and the krokorok yell at the same time. They narrow their eyes at each other. But the krokorok eventually continues, "These three refused to pay up, so we're takin' them to the boss."

"They don't live here, there's no reason they should have to pay..."

"If they benefit from us, we need compensation for our troubles."