Makers Of Guns & Ordnance

After settling in a proper Inn, making his presence known in the Adventurer’s Guild and getting to know a few of the locals, Richard decided to make a “house call”.

He returned to his room, locked the door, shut the windows and closed the curtains to ensure he would have full privacy. He tapped his earlobe, made the magic communication circle appear on it as usual and spoke to it.

“This is a request: I need to visit the shop. Does the Big Man have some time for me?”

A few seconds later, another large magic circle appeared by the door opening a magical gate to another dimension. Without any hesitation, the Bounty Hunter walked through it.

It always left him speechless seeing this kind of place… a pocket dimension unknown to the Gods.

Everywhere he looked it was a gargantuan factory dedicated to the refinement, testing, reverse-engineering and manufacturing of weapons, combat equipment and strange techno-magical devices like the communication device Richard used. The industrial level of this entire environment was thousands of years more advanced than every world he’d ever visited. To add to the curious nature of this place, everywhere he looked were the busy creatures that manned the machines and created these weapons.

Most of them looked like an offshoot of the common Dwarven people he’d encountered in almost every world he’d been. Most of them look exactly the same save for the different shade of color of their messy hairs and massive bushy beards that covered most of their faces letting only their noses to poke out. They all were dressed in similar uniforms meant for work in a factory and despite their short size, they all had a strong physique and communicated to everyone with a single word: “mogo.” Nobody, not even the Goddess that Richard worked with knew who they were, where they came from or how they came up with their own factory dimension. Still, Richard knew them by their professional name: “Makers Of Guns & Ordnance” or “MOGO’s” for short.

When the workers saw Richard, they all recognized him and waved in greeting. The old World Traveller always waved back and greeted those that came along to shake his hand or made a comment towards him. One of them, with a foreman hat, approached him and nodded in greeting.

“Mogo…?” the Foreman asked the Bounty Hunter.

“Yeah. I need to speak to the Big Man. I got a big job ahead of me, so I might need some additional firepower.”

“Hmm… mogo. Mo.Go?”

“I hope not! Last time I did a Fire Sale and went Desperado Mode it cost me 25% of my money. This is just a precaution. This job’s not gonna need so much ammo. I hope.”

“Mogo! Mooooo Go.”

After a complex conversation between Richard and the Foreman, the MOGO walked towards another part of the factory. The bounty hunter kept looking around at some of the weird and absurd weapons they were creating and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as to what new crazy stuff they would come up with.

A few minutes of walking, the Foreman took Richard to what looked like the main office of the factory. The MOGO went inside, seemed to speak to someone for a moment then a booming voice was heard.

“The Wolf is in ‘ere? Why didn't cha say that in the first place!? Let ‘im in!”

The Foreman opened the door and gestured to Richard to come inside.

“How you doing, Big Man? Still chugging on that cheap swill from World #357?”

The Big Man he was talking to, was a being that, ironically, looked like a giant Dwarf, with a similar look like the other MOGO’s. This one, however, was at least twice as tall as the World Traveller and four times as wide. He was dressed in a highly worn out overalls made of dragon leather and carried dozens of tools around. Unlike his small colleagues, he had a shaved head with a few spots of soot and oil on his dome. He kept his face shaved save for the mutton chop sideburns he sported. His rugged, wrinkly face showed he was an ancient being, but his powerful body and steel muscles showed he wasn’t weak in any way. When the small, beady eyes of Brotok saw Richard after his comment, the huge man laughed loudly, put down a barrel of ale on a desk, walked up to the bounty hunter and patted him hard on the shoulder, which made Richard stumble to the ground in comical fashion.

“Hahaha! Ye sure got the stones ta say somethin’ like that, laddie! It’s good ta see ya, Ol’ Boy!” The boisterous voice of the Head of the MOGO’s boomed throughout the factory.

“Nice to see you too, Brotok. You could’ve spared me the visit to the floor, though.” Richard picked himself up with a groan. Although rough in their greeting, the two men shook hands as two old friends.

“Hah! Just wanted ta make sure ye ain’t goin’ soft on me, Ol’ Boy. So, what can I do fer an ol’ friend?”

Brotok and Richard sat by the head desk. Brotok poured two large mugs of ale while Richard lit one of his cigarettes and offered one to the Big Man, who kindly refused.

“I’m in another one of those ‘secret government jobs’ that won’t leave me with much money as a reward, but might help me plan for bigger things in the future.”

“Heh! Seems there’s always one o’ those in every bloody world and country innit? Why’d ya get involved in this one, anyways?”

“Was a big name in the world. I just arrived there a month ago, so I need to build my posse.”

The two men took a drink from their respective mugs. Brotok rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, we ain’t gettin’ too many orders from ya lately, so it seems this world ain’t that difficult fer ya.”

“I really can’t say yet. So far, I’ve only encountered naughty nobles and dumbass adventurers trying to kill me. Everything else? It’s been manageable. But I don’t want to lower my guard. So I’ll be asking for an order before I leave.” Richard reached into his pocket and placed a folded piece of paper with the order he was expecting on Brotok’s desk.

After giving it a quick look, Brotok nodded and put the paper away into one of his thousands of pockets on his overalls.

“This oughta be a simple inventory. I’ll charge it with yer credit with us. Anyhoo… enough ‘bout business.” Brotok grinned and poured Richard another drink. “Tell me ‘bout the scenery there… any pretty birds caught yer attention yet?”

“Why do you always ask me the same old crap every time I come to visit?”

“Hah! What else are we gonna talk ‘bout? Guns & ammo? I deal with ‘em all day every day. It’s not often I get ta visit other worlds an’ get ta ‘polish the ol’ warhammer’, if ya get what I mean.”

“Ever think about quitting? Living the simple life? I’m sure you could find someone to take over this lot.”

“Don’t be givin’ me ideas ‘bout retirement. I still got a couple o’ millenia left in me before I decide ta quit the life.” Brotok down his mug of ale and poured himself another one. “So, tell me, whatcha seein’ o’er there?”

“Same ol’ same, Big Man. Pretty ladies of all races, some got the goods, others got the brains… some of ‘em have pretty legs.” Richard quirked a smirk when he said that thinking of his most recent encounter.

“Oh! So ya found a lass that actually got yer attention, did ya?” The interest of the Head MOGO peaked as he grinned and pulled out a cigar the size of a large loaf of bread, lit it and took a few puffs from it. “She yer type?”

“Yeah. You could say that. But I don’t really know the girl, so chances are I won’t ever see her again.”

“Hah! Yer sellin’ yerself short, Ol’ Boy. Play yer cards right an’ yer Lady Luck might ‘elp ya out.” As usual, Brotok always spoke about the Gods and such similar beings with a hint of dislike. MOGO’s are an anomaly to the Gods which they cannot comprehend. And the Gods are beings the MOGO’s do not need to thrive and expand throughout dimensions.

“She’ll do her thing when she feels like it. But, since there’s a woman involved, I wager she won’t be trying anything. She’s the jealous type.”

“Ooh.. you got it bad don’t cha? Got a Goddess trying ta get in yer britches while yer pluckin’ pretty flowers on ‘nother world?” The loud laugh of Brotok boomed through the factory again.

“Shut the hell up, Big Man. Even if that were the case, it’s not like she could just pop out of thin air and be like ‘I’m here! Let’s ride, cowboy!’ There are rules for these guys, you know. Guys like you and me are beyond the reach of the Gods. Which is fine by me, I guess.”

Brotok scoffed loudly at that last comment but nodded at it as well. The Head MOGO couldn’t help but agree with the World Traveler’s words. He did notice that there was some sort of weight dragging his old friend, however.

“So tell me somethin’ Ol’ Boy. This is supposed ta be yer last rodeo, innit?” Brotok leaned forward as he poured Richard another drink which he downed slowly.

“Yeah. This would be my one thousandth job.”

“An’ ‘ave ya thought ‘bout what yer gonna do when the job’s done?”

The question seemed to trouble the Bounty Hunter. Brotok could see how his shoulders sagged a bit and let out a tired sigh.

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought about it lately. I’ve been doing this for such a long time I just kept going without paying attention to the finish line. I guess I kinda thought I’d be doing this bounty hunting gig for all time… Now that I’ve realized this is my actual last job, I’m drawing a blank.” Richard leaned back on his chair, took another drag from his cigarette and let it out slowly.

“I remember ya tellin’ me that Lady Luck o’ yers was gonna grant ya some wish or somethin’. Maybe ye oughta give it a lil’ thought, Ol’ Boy. Gettin’ a reward from a divine lass oughta be the thing ya need fer yer retirement.”

Retirement. The thought that he might retire from bounty hunting had crossed Richard’s mind a few times. But now that he mulled over it, it seemed like the right thing to do. He’d been traveling through a thousand worlds, gunned down many bounties, fought against creatures and monsters the likes which no one would hope to understand, met and left behind hundreds of people whom he had bonded with, lost and won a hundred fortunes, and slain nine hundred and ninety-nine Demon Lords. Perhaps his main goal in the end was to retire from bounty hunting along with his “posse of lovely ladies” after all. The silliness of his old motivator made him laugh loudly, which was rare for him.

“Guess I should start thinking about retirement. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Brotok laughed along with the bounty hunter and downed his last mug of ale as he stood up.

“Alright, Ol’ Boy! Let’s get a looksy at some o’ the new poppers we made fer ya. Who knows? Maybe we get ya a new hand cannon.”

“Lead the way, Big Man.”

Richard followed Brotok out of the office to take a walk around the factory. But his thoughts were still wandering towards the notion of retirement. Could it be possible for him to finally just give up on bounty hunting? Will his millenia-long job to hunt one thousand Demon Lords really render the rewards he was hoping for? Then again… he really hadn’t thought about the reward in centuries… This will get complicated.

“Don’t put the cart before the horse, Wolf. First you have to get a posse, build a strong base and get the necessary resources. Then you have to defeat the Demon Lord and ask Darlin’ for the reward you’ve wanted for a long time. I’ve waited for a thousand years for this. I can spare a little more time.”