Night of the Concert (and the Morning After)
It was late in the city-state of Bilgewater, but by no means was the city asleep. Pubs and taverns on numerous streets were still bustling with drunken activity, and in the case of Myron's Murderhole, the most famous tavern in Bilgewater, applause. Inside the establishment's blood and vomit-stained walls, a concert was coming to a close.
"Remember the name and tremble - Pentakill!" the Master of Metal, Mordekaiser, bellowed. His command echoed throughout the tavern, to the delight of his audience of pirates and rogues, who roared their inebriated approval. "Thank you, and have a good night, Bilgewater!"
About a half hour later, the members of Pentakill were leaving the Murderhole, not even bothering to get out of costume, and the majority of them wobbling slightly as they departed from the building. Their lead singer, Karthus, who had a certain affection for alcohol, was being supported by the bassist Yorick and drummer Olaf, leaning on their shoulders as the three of them stumbled as one unit. Sona, the only sober bandmember, was carrying her beloved etwahl, walking warily behind the drunken trio. Behind the Maven of Strings was Mordekaiser, trudging along with heavy footsteps as he dragged something behind him by a long, steel handle. Attached to the handle was a big, spiky wagon of Mordekaiser's own design, with the word "Pentakill" crudely painted on the side in broad, jet-black lettering. Inside the wagon were a comically large set of speakers, and the rest of the band's instruments: Karthus's microphone, Olaf's drumset, Yorick's bass, and Mordekaiser's beloved guitar, ''Numero Uno''.
The Pentakill Wagon, or simply, 'the Bandwagon', squeaked and creaked behind Mordekaiser as its wheels rolled down Bilgewater's cobblestone streets. Even though there was nary a speck of rust to be found on the wagon, it clearly suffered from age and abuse from the elements. This noble vehicle had carried Pentakill's vital equipment since Mordekaiser first got the band together, for their first concert in the Shadow Isles. This wagon had rolled from Demacia to Noxus, from Piltover to Freljord, from Zaun to Bandle City, and had taken every kind of punishment imaginable: sword strikes, fire, chemical splashes, vile mushrooms, you name it.
In short, the Bandwagon was one of the team, nay, one of the family. At the same time, however...
"I grow weary of dragging this burden!" Mordekaiser grumbled to his bandmembers. "Karthus, where is this blasted hotel you made the reservations for?"
"Rezzervacations?" Karthus groaned in a slurred voice. "We going to the beach or something? Wait, -hic-... oh. Oh! Right, the hotel or whatever. Um...I was supposed to talk to someone? I figured we'd just walk -hic- walk in..."
Sona frowned, glaring at Karthus. She was not about to sleep outside again because of him, especially in a less-than-morally-upstanding town like Bilgewater.
"I suppose this means we're needing to find a place to crash..." Yorick mumbled, looking around the street, empty except for the band. "Who in the Isles would be open at this time of night, though?"
Olaf thoughtfully stroked his beard for a moment, before snapping his fingers as an epiphany struck. "Heh, problem solved. There's someone in town who's ALWAYS open..."
A few minutes later...
"He said WHAT about me!?" Miss Sarah Fortune snarled from the other side of the front counter of her personal tavern, appropriately named Fortune's Favor.
Yorick and Olaf jumped back from the counter as Miss Fortune pulled a pistol out, waving it towards the Pentakill members. Mordekaiser and Sona were already keeping their distance, staying way out of the current mess and close to the door. It was safer that way.
Karthus, however, still in a somewhat muddled state (improving but still drunk), leaned over the counter to play with Miss Fortune's cherry-red hair. "Now, Fortune, sweetie, you know we don't mean that...-hic-...I mean, maybe Olaf does, but he's an idiot, let's face it."
"Karthus." Mordekaiser warned as Olaf's hands curled into fists.
"One sec, Morde, I'm -hic- busy. Now as I was saying, since you're such a sweet little la-hic-lady, 'scuse me," Karthus continued, twirling a lock of Miss Fortune's hair with a bony finger. "We were thinking you'd be kind enough to give us a place to stay for the night, that's all."
"Karthus..." Yorick said with increased urgency as Miss Fortune's pistol came to rest on Karthus's cranium.
"Shaddup, I'm making reservations here!" Karthus snapped, before turning back to Miss Fortune. "We know you run a -hic- classy establishment here, and you take grrrrreaaaat pride in keeping your customers happy." Karthus swatted the pistol away from his head, and leaned in to whisper in Miss Fortune's ear. "So maybe I, as an amazing metal star -hic-, could get a little room service from you. Whaddya say, honey?"
Sona could only cover her face with a hand in despair. The rest of the band followed suit as the sound of Miss Fortune's pistol cracking against Karthus's face echoed through the lobby, and the esteemed bounty hunter dragged the dazed Deathsinger out by his hair, unceremoniously throwing him out into the street.
"Here's your personal suite, Karthus, with all the finest in comfort." Miss Fortune smiled in the doorway as Karthus lay passed out in the gutter. "Have a good night." And with that, the pirate hunter slammed the door shut.
"Sorry about that." Yorick sighed as Miss Fortune returned to the counter. "He doesn't speak for all of us."
"He better not." Miss Fortune warned. "And we're not finished, Olaf, just so you know. But I'm willing to save it for the Rift. I'm tired, I want to go to bed, but first, I need to know what you metalheads want."
"A room for us and our equipment." Mordekaiser explained, pointing behind him where the filled Bandwagon sat.
Miss Fortune could only silently stare up at the pile of music and metal, blinking in shock and awe. The stack of instruments and equipment very nearly touched the lobby's ceiling, which made the pirate hunter question just how her new patrons got the items inside in the first place. Looking back at Mordekaiser, she said, "We don't have room for that here. Unless you're willing to pay for a second room, of course. Your five -whoops, sorry, FOUR- beds would take up the entire space of a room."
Mordekaiser glared maliciously at Miss Fortune. "Four beds in the entire room?" he sneered.
"Two beds maximum is what I usually offer, so consider yourself lucky." Miss Fortune replied, unfazed by Mordekaiser's attempt at intimidation. "If you want your equipment to stay in here, you're buying a second room."
Before Mordekaiser could give his answer, which usually involved his morningstar, Olaf put a hand on the Master of Metal's shoulder. "Relax, Morde, no need to burn another place down. We just had an awesome concert, so we should have more than enough funds to pay for a second room. Yorick, go check the funds and pay the good lady."
Miss Fortune watched, unimpressed, as Yorick shuffled over to the Bandwagon and rummaged through the band's belongings, pulling out a Poro bank. Uncorking the bottom of the porcelain poro, the Gravedigger shook the bank vigorously, resulting in a few greasy bills lazily drifting to the floor, followed by a few rusted coins. "What the-" Yorick stammered as Sona gasped in shock.
"Freeloaders!?" Mordekaiser bellowed, picking up the pathetic bills. "What is the meaning of this?"
Miss Fortune casually shrugged behind the counter. "Hello? Pirates? You really expected any of them to pay? You lot are lucky you even got that amount."
"How the hell are we gonna pay for a room now?" Olaf groaned. "We don't even have enough for our OWN room, let alone for our equipment."
"Aww, sounds like you're down on your luck." Miss Fortune said teasingly, adding a twitch of her lower lip for effect. "Guess I'll just be seeing you la-"
There was a loud clang as a bag suddenly slammed down on the counter in front of Miss Fortune. Sona, now at the front counter, gave an unamused look to the bounty hunter as she pointed at the bag, implying that she should open it. The Maven of the Strings then turned her head to give her bandmates a vicious glare. This wasn't the first time she had saved them like this.
Miss Fortune rolled her eyes, and untied the leather laces of the bag to behold a large pile of little golden coins. With a surprised huff, she began to count the coins inside. "Well...with your bills over there, this is enough for one room. I'm really pushing the system with those four beds, you know. Bilgewater fire codes and all."
"Then what do we do with our equipment? We could always leave it in the lobby, you know." Yorick growled.
"That's not happening." Miss Fortune said flatly. "Best I can offer you is a space in the back of the tavern. Nice little backyard, plenty of room for everything, use it for storage all the time. Nothing will happen to your instruments, I promise."
"Done...but only because I want to get this over with and go to bed." With a sigh, Mordekaiser snapped his fingers, and Olaf and Yorick began to carefully wheel the Bandwagon out to the backyard. Sona, still at the counter, held out an open palm towards Miss Fortune, who handed her a rusty silver key.
"Down the hall to your left, first door. Have a good night, Pentakill."
Meanwhile, outside, in the gutter, Karthus was sober and shivering, regretting the drink yet again while attempting to use his songbook as a blanket.
The next morning...
Miss Fortune was watching the tavern's clock impatiently. Those Pentakill fools needed to check out within the next half hour, unless they wanted to pay extra. As if on cue, when the clock chimed 11:30, the band shuffled out of their room, yawning and stretching. "Morning, sunshines." Miss Fortune smiled, taking the key from Sona. "Sleep well?"
"Surprisingly, yes." Mordekaiser replied. "Your establishment is quite comfortable, Fortune."
"How sweet. Guess you're hitting the road, then. Don't forget your instruments, now." Miss Fortune said, waving the quartet towards the backyard. Olaf and Yorick hurried outside to collect the Bandwagon as Miss Fortune strutted over to check the rum and grog storage behind the counter. "So where's your next concert, anyway?" she asked as Sona stepped outside to collect Karthus.
"Bandle City, I believe, unless they force us to cancel again due to ''safety concerns''." Mordekaiser said, making air quotes in disgust at the thought.
"Can't imagine why that would be a problem." Miss Fortune smirked, pouring herself a mug of rum from a nearby tap. "I'm sure Pentakill has never given ANY upstanding city a reason to fear them."
"You give us too much credit, bounty hunter." Mordekaiser chuckled. "There was that one time that Olaf-"
"WHAT THE HELL!?"
Mordekaiser and Miss Fortune both heard Olaf's furious roar, and dashed outside to see what had happened. In the backyard, Olaf and Yorick were staring in enraged shock at two heartbreaking sights: the pile of instruments on the ground, and the gaggle of pirates outside of the yard, wheeling a hoard of treasure toward the docks using the Bandwagon.
"They didn't even take our instruments..." Yorick said in dismay. "Just the Bandwagon..."
"Fortune!" Mordekaiser yelled. "Explain this!"
"I have nothing to explain." Miss Fortune shrugged. "I promised nothing would happen to your instruments, and here they are. I never promised anything regarding that hunk of scrap you call a wagon. I've got ninety-nine problems in Bilgewater, and stolen band equipment isn't one of them."
"Not so fast!" a voice hissed.
Miss Fortune turned around to see Sona and Karthus approaching from the lobby. Karthus took one glance at the corsairs outside with the Bandwagon, and put things together. "So our equipment was outside." he said, turning the observation into a statement rather than a question.
"Yes." Miss Fortune replied plainly.
"In this yard."
"Yes."
"On your property."
"I claim no responsibility for that." Miss Fortune said quickly, raising her hands into the air.
"Did we sign a waiver?" Karthus asked shrewdly.
"Pardon?" Miss Fortune asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Whenever we go anywhere, I have to sign these stupid waivers and paperwork to show that if anything happens to us or our equipment while on tour, we can't sue whoever or wherever's in question." Karthus explained, his eyes glowing brightly as he gave Miss Fortune a sinister smile. "You gave us no such waiver, therefore, we CAN have you claim responsibility for the loss, and I'm sure any city's Tribunal would agree. Are we at an understanding, ma'am?"
Miss Fortune stared at Karthus, her mouth agape. The rest of Pentakill was also watching with grins. "See, Karthus!?" Olaf guffawed. "This right here is why we need you to stop drinking! You're the smart one!"
Miss Fortune grumbled to herself. "Fine..." she muttered. "I can't exactly afford legal issues with a customer base that hardly pays, either. What can I do to keep this from getting out?"
"We get to stay here until we have a way to get our equipment with us to Bandle City. We have two days til the concert, so we won't be too great of an inconvenience, I assume?" Karthus gave a small smirk, knowing Miss Fortune was aware of the alternative.
"Fine. But you'd better get cracking on figuring something out." Miss Fortune pulled the rusted silver key out of the pocket of her trousers and shoved it into Karthus's hand, along with a pen. "Because this time," she added coldly, "I'm getting that two-day agreement in writing."