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Ballroom Blitz"God, this is frustrating."
Gerrick looked up from his beer and massaged at his eyes, "What was that?"
Across the table a disheveled priest, beard soaked through with wine recently "donated" from someone whose faith had needed refreshing was yelling, "I said, this is frustrating! These idiots just fight endlessly and they don't even fight well!"
Lamuriel's bellow stopped the fighting that was going on in the center of the bar. Practically every hour, the drunkards would get rowdy and yet another troop of Dungeon Fighters was called in to handle it. Gerrick and Lamuriel had done the whole scene themselves once. That was long ago though, and now the gunner and his priest companion had settled into a sedentary life at the tables. At this point, the whole scene was amusing, as if the batches of fighters were children in a school play.
The current "show" was actually less entertaining than usual. Watching drunkards stagger around, trying to catch three Magician types -- two young men and a woman -- who'd come in was a pretty sad sight. Although they clearly overmatched the drunks, the Magicians strutted and fought with the arrogance of the very young who were sure they were immortal and untouchable and wanted to show off how amazing they were. These three weren't just fighting the drunks, they were brutalizing them, being needlessly cruel to a bunch of people who were in no way their equal.
Gerrick looked back down. These days his eyes mostly sought out the bottom of his tankard. Lamuriel was bored, though. Even in retirement, he wanted more than just alcohol to get him through the day. Teaching these three a lesson in humility struck him as a gift from a benevolent God.
"Lamuriel, sit down," Gerrick mumbled. The priest was pushing his chair back. "It's not worth it."
"You can stay right there if you want to Gerrick, " Lamuriel replied. "I'll deal with these punks."
"Ooh, look," the leader of the three Magicians nudged his companions. "The old man and Father Drunkerson are going to teach us a lesson! C'mon, Pops! Let me show you a few tricks."
Gerrick looked up from his beer and over to his friend. Lamuriel was staring at him. He gave the priest a slight nod and then reached up to pull his goggles down over his eyes, grinning lopsidedly. "Beer Goggles, Check."
Lamuriel grinned ear-to-ear and shrugged his massive ebony-inlaid Behemoth Rib cross off his back. "Potato Master, check."
Lamuriel twisted around and swung, hooking the side-bar of the cross under the table, flinging it toward the crowd of intoxicated patrons. A bolt of light shot from the cross, hurtling the table forcefully into the drunkards. It knocked them down startled but unhurt and, most important from the pair's perspective, out of the way.
Gerrick leaped into the air, landing a foot on his friend's shoulder and with a blur unloaded a set of multi-shot handguns into the table. Light danced through the holes in the table as it spun in place in reaction to the gunshots. As intended, it attracted the attention of the three Magicians along with everyone else. Gerrick hopped off the priest's shoulder even as the table spun, holstering the small weapons as he came down directly in front of the priest.
Lamuriel planted the cross on the floor and readied himself. Gerrick drew out a set of hand cannons and grinned as he could see the smugness on the Magicians' faces slide away. Lamuriel was chanting now, summoning his divine power and channeling much of it into the Gunner. He felt energy spread aross him, down his arms, into his fingers and into the weapons.
Gerrick had to give the three young Magicians credit. Most people when faced with the Potato Master were so busy staring at the spinning table that they were easy prey for what came next. These three had reacted from the surprise quickly and were even now rallying, working together to launch a devastating magical assault.
He pulled his triggers even as a wave of magical force came hurtling across the bar. A wall of air slammed into the projectiles, sending them spinning harmlessly into the walls. Another volley and this time the tendrils of magic produced by the Magicians didn't just block the shots, they actually caught the cannonballs and threw them back at the gunner and the priest. An evil light was shining in the trio's eyes and their faces were masks of fury. This was no longer fun for them. They would kill the gunner and his priest companion if they could.
Gerrick on the other hand, smiled even wider. A shimmering blue shield wrapped around him, shrugging off the Mage's assault like water. Gerrick didn't have to turn around to know that the priest's smile matched his own.
"Get ready," the gunner said. The warning was unnecessary. The two had worked together so long that they both knew what was coming next. Still old habits die hard.
The three Magicians launched three attacks simultaneously, a devastating wave of energy that looked like a wave of death marching across the bar. The blue shield around Gerrick intensified. He was lifted up and tossed out of the way, landing on his back just as the wave struck him. His teeth rattled as the blazing shield absorbed the entirety of the Mage's attack. Lamuriel on the other hand, was standing alone and ignored, the attention of three punks completely on the Gunner -- exactly the way the technique always worked. Gerrick watched as the priest finished the final syllables of his invocation.
The scream of the Magicians was a delight as Lamuriel's three forks of lightning tore through the ceiling, blasting the Magicians in three different directions.
"Damn straight!" said Gerrick climbing to his feet. He looked at his partner. Lamuriel was using his divine defenses, holding back the shaft of a lance with a magical aura that was inching it closer and closer to him. The two male magicians had gotten to their feet and were fleeing. The woman on the other hand, her face dark and twisted with rage, had kept her head enough to launch another spell and was even now urging her magical lance to impale the priest.
In one blurring motion, Gerrick charged and drew his hand cannons, aiming for the female Magician. He skidded into a slide and planted the mouth of one of the weapons on the to the floor while his foot slammed into the Magician's exposed midriff. The explosion of the gun threw the gunner up and into the air and the female Magician across the room and out the door, a stunned look on her face. With a flourish the gunner spun in mid-air and landed lightly on his feet.
Resting a foot on the crux of his angled weapon, Lamuriel poked his index finger into the tiny hole the lance had put in his plate armor. "That was fun," he said, grinning.
Gerrick rubbed at the torn sleeve of his shirt with disappointment. It was one of his favorites and he had never been a particularly good tailor. He gave his friend a dark look but there was a twinkle in his eye that the priest was sure hadn't been there before.
Finally the gunner shrugged. "Retirement was starting to get boring anyway."