Dorok had never thought much of the ruined tavern where he had hidden the previous night. It was filthy and dilapidated, littered with excrement and unspeakable filth left by vagrants.
So the next day, he left the ruins, met up with the nearest players, and prepared to find somewhere clean to hide.
Yet on the second night, Dorok and Owl fled back like a pair of frightened rats, once again taking shelter in the cellar beneath the ruined tavern.
This time, what came through the thick wooden boards overhead was no longer the occasional sound of a search, but the deafening roar of war.
The frenzied clash of metal, the agonized wails of the dying, the thunder of burning buildings collapsing, and the fanatical cries of "Long live the King!" that swept over everything like a tsunami...
All these sounds mingled together, penetrating the gaps in the floorboards and making even the barrel he hid in tremble faintly.
"Fuck... what the hell..."
Dorok muttered to himself. He was not afraid of being discovered, because ordinary voices were barely audible beneath the tremendous noise outside.
From the sound of it, this wasn't a small skirmish anymore. This was fucking total war!
What was going on?
Had Bagnia's army broken into the city?
Wait, wasn't the Holy Crusade Army supposed to reach the outskirts of Treasure Island City the day after tomorrow?
Dorok was baffled. He could not make sense of it. He had received no notification, and besides, both sides seemed to be wearing blue military uniforms.
Just then, the fighting in the street outside seemed to draw closer.
He heard a jumble of panicked footsteps and curses, mixed with blustering threats that sounded vaguely familiar... those were the voices of the local gang members!
Dorok remembered their voices. These bastards