A New Kind Of Grind

"I love it when a plan comes together," I muttered as I sat on a rooftop, watching through the eyes of my crow pseudofamiliar as the courier pulled a barrel-laden cart through the docks.

The plan was, altogether, quite simple: trick the local gang into stealing another goddamn shipment of my beer, wait for them to drink the beer, and then walk into their hideout and knock 'em all flat with a single mass sleep spell.

The details were a bit more complicated, admittedly; the new beer I'd made, which I had labeled "Purpleheart Energizer," came with a fabricated fact sheet, claiming that its effect was boosting the drinker's Wits stat and making them more alert, not less, as they drank.

Like I said, though, that was a fabrication. What it actually did was make the drinker feel more awake, while also making them way more vulnerable to sleep spells. So, if they all got drunk off my beer... well. Then mopping 'em up would be dead easy, wouldn't it?

"Raven One, report."

Also, I wasn't working completely alone here. I'd talked to the local guardhouse, despite my awareness that all cops are bastards, and managed to get them on-side for this operation. It was a neat little arrangement, really; I do all of the investigative work, and they just have to show up at the end with nightsticks and handcuffs.

"Still all clear, Nest," I said into my radio- just because I owned a smartphone didn't mean we were using those to coordinate our operation. "How're things on your end?"

"Preparations hit a snag, but we're confident it isn't a showstopper," the cop on the other end said. "We'll just be a little longer in showing up."

"I'll live," I said. "Purpleheart's effects are pretty long-lasting, so I don't anticipate this being too time-sensitive. We can afford to wait."

I hummed quietly, before noticing a figure emerge from the shadows in front of the cart.

"Contact," I announced into the radio.

Indeed, three figures emerged from the shadows, and the courier, spotting the bandits in front of them, wisely decided they weren't getting paid enough for this, and just bolted, abandoning the cart.

"The chick has fledged the nest," I said. "...Ah, shit."

"What happened?"

"We've got a pair of heroes on the scene," I said, as two more figures emerged from the shadows, this time behind the cart, and one of them shouting some sort of speech about justice and the sanctity of property and-

Wait.

What are they doing here?

"Shit," I hissed, bolting upright. "Hurry up with those preparations, I'm about to need backup."

"What's going on?"

"My fucking roommate and her paladin friend are trying to protect my shipment of beer from the gangsters," I said, hustling towards the edge of the roof and hopping onto the ladder down. "Either they're about to ruin our plan to get the beer stolen, or-"

Through my raven's eyes, I watched them get taken out by a sneak attack from behind, and they collapsed like unstrung marionettes.

"They just got their asses kicked, and now they're being taken hostage," I hissed, sliding down the ladder. "Ugh, god fucking damnit, if those two had just stayed out of this..."

"We won't be able to move for at least a half hour," the cop said, apologetically.

"Then I'll just do this my fucking self," I said, and turned off my radio.

Today was a good day for the Dornhelm Dock Snakes. They'd managed to jack another cartload of Purpleheart, and capture a pair of rich kids to ransom back to their parents.

"I just have to know," Ash said, her voice a touch raspy. The burn scars all over her face, neck, and upper chest, from which she drew her new name, seemed to have affected her voice. "What exactly did you two think would happen, back there?"

"Eat shit," Akane said, because it felt like the sort of thing Roxy would do. Of course, Roxy wouldn't end up tied to a chair, she'd end up bleeding from eight different stab wounds while surrounded by bleeding muggers, so maybe she wasn't the best source of inspiration right now...

"Hey, Boss!" one of the lower-ranked Snakes called out. "It says here this stuff'll make us more alert!"

"I miss the army," Legs said. "In the army, we had discipline. In the army, if your commanding officer told you that, no, you couldn't get drunk on-duty, you'd actually listen to them. But now I'm stuck with you lot."

"I think she's mad at us," another Snake stage-whispered.

"Go ahead, I don't care," Legs said with a sigh. "It's your liver you're ruining."

The Snakes cheered, cracking open one of the barrels and beginning to drink deeply.

"This is simply shameful," Veronica said, shaking her head. "Losing a fight to bandits is one thing, but bandits who can't even restrain themselves from daydrinking?"

"Aw, I'm sorry, was Princess expecting a classy bandit operation?" Grip said, folding her arms- one of which ended in an iron prosthesis, whose metal fingers were wrapped around a dagger. "You think we should be drinking wine out of teacups with little cucumber sandwiches?"

"Sorry, but you're stuck with us instead," Scar said. While all four of the bandit bosses were heavily scarred, Scar herself, by virtue of having an eyepatch and black lightning seared onto her face, was the one allowed to claim that nickname. "But hey, if it makes you feel any better, we're not just any run-of-the-mill bandits. We're the best goddamn bandits that Dornhelm will ever know."

"Are you gonna tell 'em the story?" Ash asked.

"Well, of course I am," Scar said. "See, us four ugly bitches with all the scars? We got these from tangling with an archmage. It was a fight you couldn't begin to imagine, at your level. Quite frankly, we're just out of your league."

"Funny," a voice said from up above, cutting through the background chatter. "The way I remember it, you four tried to mug a Level 1 Wizard, and still weren't enough to put her down cleanly."

I perched atop the roof next to the hideout, watching through my crow pseudofamiliar as it located the one lookout watching this side of the building. I sent it into the building, through an upper story open window, and took a quick survey of the inside, trying to figure the best mode of attack.

There were more lookouts on this side than I'd thought, and plenty on the other sides, too. I had my new and improved dart revolver, but I wasn't confident I'd be able to take out all the lookouts and get inside.

Thankfully, they didn't have anyone on the roof, but they did have a skylight.

I backed up, and took a running jump across the gap between the buildings, before landing on the other rooftop, and hustling over to one of the skylights. I sprayed penetrating oil into the hinges, just to pre-emptively silence the hinges- god bless alchemy, because that oil also had the magical effect of projecting an aura of silence- before carefully lifting up the pane.

"See, us four ugly bitches with all the scars?" one of the bandits was saying to Veronica as I opened the skylight. "We got these from tangling with an archmage. It was a fight you couldn't begin to imagine, at your level. Quite frankly, we're just out of your league."

...Wait. Hang on. I recognize these assholes.

"Funny," I said, projecting my voice as I pulled out a Cat's Fall potion- which wouldn't slow my fall, but would prevent me from getting hurt by it. "The way I remember it, you four tried to mug a Level 1 Wizard, and still weren't enough to put her down cleanly." I downed the potion swiftly, and dropped down into the warehouse.

"You!" the burly warrior-bandit yelled, pulling her sword. She was not, I noted, wearing pants; considering, however, that her body from the waist down had apparently been replaced by some sort of living metal prosthesis, however, I wasn't inclined to give her a hard time about hanging dong in front of others.

"Now, I wouldn't be surprised if you four had gone up a level or two in the interim," I said casually, pulling out another potion. "But I'm afraid that won't be enough to save you. You can untie my friends and let them go now, and I'll walk out of here like you didn't kidnap them and steal my beer. Or... we can settle things the old-fashioned way."

"I'm not fucking scared of you!" the burned-faced Wizard yelled, as though she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince me.

"We're perfectly confident we can handle you with forty people," the healer, who had an eyepatch with lightning scars emanating from under it, said with a little more self-assurance.

"What about with four?" I asked, before gesturing. "[Mass Sleep.]"

A wave of lethargy passed over the whole warehouse and everyone in it. It wasn't that strong, but anyone who'd made it easier on me by drinking some Purpleheart Energizer found themselves falling over and hitting the deck.

I uncorked the potion in my hand and tossed it back, refilling my magic pool.

"Also, funny thing," I added, tossing the empty bottle to the side as it dissolved into nothingness. "Did you know that taking out nearly forty combatants at once is enough to catapult me up to Level 3?" Almost Level 4, actually; chances are, I'd end the day either a higher level than Akane, or a very desecrated corpse.

"I don't care how big your number-dick is," the warrior seethed, striding forward, blade in hand. "I'll kill you if I have to do it with my bare fucking hands."

"You'll pay for what you've done to us," the knife-girl with the metal hand added.

"Just remember," I said, as lightning began to crackle at my fingertips. "I gave you an out."

Round Two... begin.