Surprisingly, there were a lot of rabbits, goats, and wolves just hanging around the outskirts of the village. He even found two more Sabre Cats! Clint had no idea how anyone could go hungry with that much game barely outside your doorstep, at least in these parts.
Clint was also a little confused as to why there were wolves here. He didn't remember any species that hung around rocky environments like the Reach. Maybe his knowledge of wolves just wasn't as good as he thought, which he supposed was pretty likely since he only ever read two books on them. He ultimately figured it was probably just some magic thing, but the thought still bothered him.
Anyway, in total, he managed to bag two sabre cats, two wolves, three deer, and eight rabbits. He could have gotten more, but by that point, the bodies were very awkward to carry around, even with his super strength making them feel practically weightless.
Also, that was all he was willing to kill for a village as small as Karthwasten. He really didn't like killing animals needlessly. In this case, there was a need; he needed money and the villagers needed food, fur, materials, etc… However, he only needed so much money, and the villagers only needed so many recourses, especially when they could so easily find some by walking a few meters into the forest.
So after he got what he deemed an adequate amount, he went back to the village and sold everything to the butcher, who was—for some reason—baffled by the amount. In total, he made a good 700 septims. He even managed to make it back and sell everything before dusk.
Unfortunately for him, things would likely never go as smoothly as he would like again. 'Cons of bein' a tranmigorater… transmigrenator… transmigro—fuckn' words. Point is, Rob will probably make things difficult for me if the gods and such here don't do so first.'
Why was he thinking this? Well, because he was currently surrounded in the street by Silverblood mercenaries.
"Our boss wants to talk to you…" One of them said, but Clint couldn't tell which. Well, he could, but he didn't care to. They all looked the same in that stupid-ass armor anyway, so why take the effort to learn to tell them apart by voice?
"Oh? While I'm flattered, I'm just a hunter, Mister, you've probably got the wrong man…" Clint said as he put a piece of wheat in his mouth, letting its top half stick out his mouth.
Three of the Mercenaries scoffed, while the others didn't budge an inch. "I doubt it… Now, come with us and nobody has to get hurt." One of them said.
Clint shrugged his shoulders and leaned against a wooden pillar that held a street light that he was pretty sure was made of magic. "Why would anyone be getting' hurt? Far as I can tell, I don't feel any murderous rage runnin' through me at the moment, so you'll probably be fine… I wouldn't worry about it too much."
Several of them were obviously getting annoyed at this point, as shown by how tightly they gripped their weapons.
"Real funny, now if you're done with you're jokes, can we move on? I don't feel like wasting my evening on a dead man." The obvious leader of this little group said, his voice dripping with irritation.
"Jokes? Afraid I don't know what ya mean… Anyhow, what's this about dead men? S'that what your boss needs? Wants me to come over and clean his house of all the bodies?" Clint asked as he suddenly looked up and into the leader's eyes.
The leader finally reached the limit of his patience and drew his sword. "Sure, we'll go with that… Now, if you'll come along…" He said through grit teeth.
Clint smiled a bit and shrugged his hands as he stood to follow. "Alright then, if you're sure. I'll be happy to clean your boss's house. You best make sure you're present when I do though, I want you to see just how spotless I can make it."
The other mercenaries ignored him, too annoyed to notice the ominous feeling welling up in their gut.
Clint tipped his hat down over his eyes as he followed…
-o0o-
"We've got him, boss!" The leader shouted from the mine entrance, signaling the others waiting behind the door to open it.
"Nice place you got here… Real… quaint? Don't know the word for it, never was one for hangin' out in caves." Clint commented as they walked through the mine, following the guards.
Everyone ignored him.
"I imagine it's quite the big cave, ain't it? What'dya guys mine here?"
They continued to ignore him.
"Whatever the case, I imagine it'll probably take me a while to clean everything, what with all the manpower that would be necessary to run a place like this…"
They still didn't bat an eye.
"Though, I guess it'll be a lot easier since there are only a few entrences, right? Even if wanderin' through the caves would be a little confusin', it probably wouldn't matter in the end."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"You know, if yall keep not talkin' like that, I might start to think that you're ignorin' me…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"Fine… You try to be friendly, but some people are just the rude type I guess. Can't expect everyone to have manners though, not everyone was raised with parents as good as mine…"
With a collective sigh of relief from all the mercenaries, they finally arrived at the boss's room. It was a pretty large cavern, about big enough to fit a standard-sized house. It had a hardwood floor that was built on top of the cave floor, with bits of rock poking out here and there. There were more of those magic lanterns from the street lights on the walls, as well as next to the door that probably led to the boss's bedroom. Other than that, it was mostly just long benches set up in rows with a raised platform in front of the bedroom door, like some kind of weird cave church.
"Are you guys a cult? Never met one of them… So are you the 'sacrifice goats' kinda cult, or a 'Flyin' Spaggeti Monster' kinda cult?" Clint asked as he walked up to the raised platform, interested in what was on the podium.
"We are neither, knife-ear. We are mercenaries hired by the Silverbloods, and I'm Atar, leader of this mercenary band." A man said from the corner.
Clint had known he was there, but that didn't stop him from being a little surprised, his eyebrows raising slightly. Why was he just hanging out in a dark corner? This guy's weird…
Anyway, the man was a Nord in full metal plate armor, looking kind of like all his subordinates, except just a little bit dumber. He also had dark hair poking out the bottom of the helmet, but other than that Clint couldn't see any of his features. He could—however—see that the heat in Atar's body was moving around a lot near his intestines, meaning he probably really needed to take a shit…
"I know, your guys already told me that many, many, many times. I think they may have some sort of thing goin' on for them Silverbloods, you might want to be wary of that. Wouldn't want to lose you're job because one of your men got a little… overenthusiastic with their interests." Clint commented as he pointed his thumb backward at the people behind him.
They all scowled in disgust, some of them nearly drawing their weapons before one of their neighbors stopped them.
"Man, yall are touchy. Gettin' so mad over a little comment like that. Yall ever heard the word Xianxia? For some reason, you're all remindin' me an awful lot of it…" Clint continued after noticing the scowls.
Atar scowled a little at that. "I don't know what elven nonsense you're spewing, but I don't care for it. You're here for one reason and one reason only, and if you know what's best for you you'll pay attention…"
Clint turned his attention back to the weird guy. "Sure thing Mister. This's about the house cleanin' right? Afraid to say, but I don't think I'll be able to get the entire cave before mornin', let alone midnight. How do ya feel about me goin' now and comin' back in the mornin'? That way, I'll be a lot less sleepy, so I probably won't miss anyon- anythin'… that way I won't miss anythin'… yeah…"
Atar raised an eyebrow at his rephrasing but then scowled again. "You're not here for cleaning duty fool! And you elves are supposed to be smart… You're here to pay for what you did to my men."
"You're men? What'd I do to your men? I don't remember doin' nothin'." Clint said with an innocent expression.
"Then what's this I hear about you killing my men, 'hunter'?" Atar responded with a somehow even deeper scowl.
"Killin' your men? Why, I would never! 'Men' implies I killed a lot of them… I only killed one. I'm a good citizen after all, so no mass-murder for me… only… house cleanin'." Clint said with a cheerful voice.
"So you admit it! I could have you locked up in Cidna mine for the rest of your life for this… But I think I'll spare you, as you did my other men. Instead, I'll end your life now." Atar said as he drew his blade; the other followed suit.
Clint raised an eyebrow but made no move to defend himself. "Huh, I'm surprised. Normally people like you like to monologue more than that… color me impressed. Now, how's about I get to cleanin'? While I'd have preferred to sleep a bit before this, I probably got enough energy in the tank to get the job done. It's not polite to keep my employer waitin' after all. Don't worry about payment, I'll take it from you're room when I'm done."
The Silverbloods all charged forward, ignoring his words. They shouldn't have done that.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
Not that it would have helped them of course… but it would have extended their lifespan by the extra few milliseconds it took for a bullet to reach them.
Within the span of three seconds, fifteen of the eighteen people in the room were on the ground, small holes through their skulls.
The remaining three…
"Well, can't say I didn't expect this. Rob wouldn't have given me all this power if he intended to send me to a low-power world, especially if he was the type lookin' for entertainment. I never really looked up the power scalin' of this world on Earth, but basic logic dictates that you would have to be at least a little superhuman, wouldn't ya?" Clint said as he looked at the remaining three living creatures in the room.
Two of them were sweating like pigs, a bullet wound in their shoulders as they were just barely fast enough to avoid a shot to the head. The last one—Atar—was standing guarded with his sword, having literally cut the bullet sent at him in half. Clint was pretty sure that was physically impossible, even if you somehow were fast enough to see the bullet.
Eh, it was probably just magic.
"Dragons and them Greybeards are all supposed to be able to affect the entire continent with their shouts, more for the likes of Parthurnaax, Miraak, and Alduin. All things are scaled off of Greybeards and Dragon, kinda like how all things in JoJo are scaled off of Silver Chariot. They, alongside vampires, are supposed to be super fast too. Dragons could be taken down by people like the Companions and the city guard if they were around, at least, they could be physically taken down. They'd need the Dovahkiin to permanently put them down. That means that the city guard would need to be superhuman since they are keepin' up with the werewolves… So I guess the trainin' limit of this world works on fiction-physics then? I wonder how high it is…" He continued, ignoring the confused, baffled, and terrified people in front of him.
He looked at Atar, who was the only one not shaking in his boots. "Pretty high, I imagine, since you're definitely not near the top, seein' as your just a mercenary leader. My gun should be enough for everything, save the really strong people like Miraak, Harkon, Alduin, and whoever the Dragonborn is… On the off chance that it's not though, my magic should… maybe… be able to take care of them."'
"Y…You're crazy!" One of the wounded mercenaries shouted, lifting his sword.
Clint frowned. "Why, that's not a very kind thing to say, is it? Yall come into this town, take all their shit, occupy their recourses, shake down their merchants, and who knows what else, then have the gull to call me crazy… You folks are not friendly at all, I think it best that I hurry this foray up."
"It's… It's for their own protection!" The other guard yelled out, a steadier voice than his companion.
Clint huffed, before looking the man in the eyes. "Let me give ya a little advice… If the guns are pointed away, then it's for their own protection. If the guns are pointed at them… it ain't for their protection. Yall are just glorified bandits on a paycheck that blame everything on the forsworn."
"While that's all well and good, I think you should be more concerned with your current situation, elf," Atar said as he raised his sword. "I'm going to skewer you alive for what you did to my men, and for the insult on our honor. After that, I'll hang your head on a pike outside the city gate for everyone to see what happens when you go against us."
Clint's eyes widened for a second before he chuckled a bit and raised his hand in apology. "Right right, what am I doin'? I was over here commentin' on how impressed I was that you didn't monologue, then I went and did it! My bad, let me fix it."
*BANG*
One of the remaining mercenaries was suddenly dead, this time not being able to dodge.
"That better? Or do'ya prefer I take out the other one right now too?" Clint asked as he reloaded his gun again.
"Y…You're a monster!" The remaining mercenary screamed upon seeing another of his companions killed. Atar's scowl somehow deepened once again.
"If I haven't heard that line screamed at me a hundred times before… Also, Atar, if you keep deepening that scowl you're face is gonna freeze like that." Clint said he casually aimed Eastwood again and…
*BANG*
Took out the remaining mercenary.
Atar's scowl disappeared and his eyes widened. Clint smirked.
"Noticed it, did ya? What, did you think what I shot you with was this baby's top speed? Nah, that was its lowest, I just keep it at that level to make sure the noise isn't deafening… and to make sure no… nasty environmental consequences spawn on top of me because of it. You may have somehow been able to cut my first bullet, but just barely. I saw that shaking hand… mach 1 was just a little too much for you, wasn't it? How's about you try Mach 5." Clint asked, having maybe a little too much fun on his first house cleaning job in the new world.
Atar's grip tightened and his face turned hard (his helmet had fallen off during the initial "firefight"). "I don't care what those 'bullets' do, I'll kill you before you can shoot. You won't get away with the crimes you've committed here this day…"
*BANG*
With that, Atar fell to the floor, not having a chance to complete his monologue.
"What crimes? Nobody can say I did this if there's nobody to say I did this. I'm just a house cleaner…" Clint said to the corpse as he walked into Atar's former room and looted it clean.
'No point in waitin' till I'm done to collect my payment. Might as well take it while I'm here instead of havin' to come back.' Clint thought, filling his pockets and backpack with as many septims as he could carry.
'Though, I should probably work a bit on that whole "not monologuing" thing… I noticed I was doin' it a lot back there; wouldn't want to end up like Atar there just cuz' I thought I'd be polite and explain my actions. Ah, maybe I'll worry about it later. Tomarrows problems require tomorrows me.'
Once filled, Clint set out to exit the cave. He—of course—cleaned the rest of it up first on his way out. He doesn't half-ass his work, never did… never will.
Overall he left with a little over four thousand septims added to his pockets.
-o0o-