The queue to board The Gaterider inched forward a step and then settled in to wait for the ship's guards to start checks on the merchant caravan now at the front of the queue. Miller let out an exasperated sigh, this was going to take hours assuming everything went smoothly and judging by the shifty look of the party three ahead of him, that wasn't very likely.
A glance down at his arm showed him Lynndis snoozing in a meadow. The sun was blazing, the wind pleasantly cool, and here he was standing around in the fishstink of the docks.
“You're right, fuck this.”
He whirled to the man behind him, dropping an arm over his shoulder. The merchant stiffened in alarm until he saw the sigils of the Warrior church and then offered a weak smile.
“Erm, can I help you…”
“Save my place, will you pal?”
As the fellow started to protest Miller strode off with a wave of thanks.
—
Dogface Greg ran in a blind panic, apparently oblivious that the package in his hand was spilling a trail of powder behind him that even the idlest Watch officer would have felt compelled to follow. Miller jogged behind him and wondered whether he was going to end up running from the law; that would be a fun way to kill a few hours.
His quarry squeezed through a broken fence and tumbled through the window of a derelict house. Miller paused outside for a second listening and then grinned, before scrabbling up the wall.
— “He's right behind me; Gage, soon as he comes through the window let him have it. Sickboy, you scrag him if he comes through the door. Bulk you're with me.” —
Miller fell through the roof with a whoop of delight and landed feet first on a scarred woman toting a crossbow. As they went down in a tangle she made a spirited effort to shoot him in the face, but his dagger cut through the bowstring and she yelped in pain as the sinew whipped across her arm.
The knifeman by the door charged across the room, and then came to a howling halt as his foot descended upon a nail attached to one of the broken roof planks. As he struggled to pull the nail out Miller rolled across the floor and jammed one of his daggers into the other foot, pinning the unlucky man to the floor.
As Miller sprung to his feet a massive maul swung across the room at headheight. A last minute parry caught the weapon before it crushed his skull but the force of the blow sent him spinning into a wall which promptly collapsed on top of him.
“You got him, Bulk! You got him!”
As Gage and Sickboy painfully picked themselves up laughter echoed through room and fire blossomed amidst the dust and debris.
“That was a nice shot! You must really work out to swing that thing.”
Miller leapt free of the rubble and landed in the middle of his opponents, eyes gleaming and hair aflame. Fixing his gaze on the towering woman holding the maul he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, causing her an involuntary twitch of a smile.
“So do you guys want to do this one at a time or all at once? I'm good with either”
Greg's distinctive face peered around his hulking bodyguard.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
Miller puffed out his chest and let a shimmering sword fill his empty hand, crossing blades in front of the flickering brand on his breast he spoke:
“Today, ne'erdowells, you face the Blades of Judgement!”
—
The queue inched forward another step and Miller found himself just a few paces from the front of the line. Another hour and he'd be on his way to Strossbourg. His eyes flicked to his arm then away as he gave a tut of annoyance.
“Oh yeah, keep on laughing, Lyndiss. You're just jealous cause you got stuck with a boring name. Yeah I said it. Boring! Urgh. It sounded cool in my head, alright?”
Behind him the merchant shook his head sadly, there was no way the guards were letting that maniac on the ship. He was in for a long wait.