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A Familiar Cat
Chapter 20: Retreat

Chapter 20: Retreat

Darwin limped back to his hideout after his disastrous defeat at the hands of a common Housecat. He was livid, absolutely livid.

He'd been defeated by a living Dishrag in sudden combat, he hadn't even time to bring his full might to bear on the churlish beast. If he had, the mangy cat would've died in a mere heartbeat, A thought, the wink of an eye. Utterly obliterated if he so chose, or rather, if the dishonorable little shit hadn't sprung from the shadows like a beggar.

He groaned under the thin scars that racked his side flared with pain, he winced as he felt the missing tufts of fur and the wet bald spots behind them as he tried not to think of the exposed blood in his fur, and how much of a pain it was going to be to clean it.

He couldn't get back to his hidden lair, not speedily anyway. the role of stolen sausage links was slowing him down, and he could feel envious eyes stalking him. It would be morning at least by the time he returned to the old house that he'd claimed. And he needed somewhere to mend his wounds properly before they became miasmic.

Honor less cur, his wounds ached from the indignity of suffering such a baseless tactic. Such behavior was marking of such an animal, not a thinking Man like himself. He'd been an esteemed member of the Three Swords Dueling House, and while rumors and curses abounded from jealous men, his was among its best members. A champion of fair combat and the honorable use of the blade.

Until he was thrown out by some prissy inbred noblemen's bastard welp, who didn't seem to realize that Knives were preferably Kept Sharp.

Ugh, frankly he was glad to leave the place and take up his studies in Magic instead. He shivered in the pleasure of the warm memories of honorable combat; he'd kill to have steel in his hand again. He started to gnaw on the spoils of war in his depressed state.

But that might be unfair, he thought considering the circumstances. Nonetheless, he wouldn't be taken a second time! No, sir. Darwin St. Zachery Von Helmut learns from his mistakes.

His body slumped awkwardly as he deflated, even he couldn't swallow that lie, he couldn't imagine a fool who would honestly. He choked down another piece of sausage.

He looked at himself in a puddle and sighed, the animal face stared back at him, like a stranger looking at a pet, not even a trace of his once striking visage could be found. He considered the sheer magical power it would take to pull this off on his own and chuffed. He would've killed for this kind of trick in his early days, and he meant it. The thought clung to him like oil, the thought of All the Magic he'd be doing, with the Demons power backing him. He swallowed again and let the thought comfort him as he ate.

Well, there was scarce he felt he Couldn't do. He might even have been capable of the old trick of Alchemy, transmuting elements and what-not. Though he was sure that would mostly be cause for alarm rather than praise. He knew several men that tried carrying false coins, the rotting bodies were a good reminder, hanging by the city gates for all to see, the signs proclaiming their guilt signed "Counterfeiter" In bright red letters for the travelers to gawk at.

He slapped the water in disgust, he was not the same as that worthless jeweler, smitten with greed, and desperation, He had a greater purpose than hanging from a noose like that useless bastard.

At least the old man left him the shop, whatever was left of it. At least there was that much. But no one wanted to buy silver from the son of a fraud. Even if it was priced cheaper than his competitors.

Darwin wrenched himself away from the reflection, even when the face wasn't his. His teeth struck a bit of gravel as his lip curled in disgust, he spat it out into the puddle and shovel more meat in to replace the empty spot in his mouth.

He couldn't stand it. the judging looks that he couldn't escape the whispers of dishonesty. He'd just have to show them, to work harder, and find something new to make. Something that would show them how wrong they were for discarding him.

He swallowed and reached for the next link, trying to clean it with his claws before biting into it.

The Devil was his best chance of that, with that creature tamed, he'd work wonders. He'd be hailed as the greatest magician on Earth. No one would doubt his worth,

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Then he'd get his dues from the world, all those vows of revenge would ring true, and all that was promised him would be paid. Either in gold and silver or with blood. He swallowed the last bit of meat and reached for the next, only to find he'd eaten it already.

Standing back up he dusted himself off and licked his paws for a moment trying to get the last taste of his meal before having to leave.

He sniffed to himself as he sped along once more back towards his dark domain, He had work to do and a small window to do it. This setback wouldn't stop him.

If he was going to take back his rightful powers and presence, he'd need weapons.

And he would need to collect them soon if he was to repair the damages this Devil had done. He couldn't wait for later. His chances were getting slimmer with each moment he stood about staring at himself in puddles. He had work to do, as usual.

He'd also need a less hostile source of food, though, those sausages were rather good.

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The Devil sat in his big chair, sat back against the small corner where the stairwell met the wall behind him, a small table to his right, a small lamp sat on a daintily woven doily with a solid drawn oak side table.

There was a large window that overlooked the darkened yard where a garden plot, or rather, a small section of land in desperate need of weeding. He'd deal with that in due time. Tomorrow at the least.

To his left were the other wall and the rail to the descending stairwell. He'd made up his mind to replace that with something else. The stairs at least, perhaps a Spiral staircase would suit this place better. He idly thought, couldn't do much worse than it already was.

He checked his pocket watch and sighed, he set aside the book he'd been reading, a rather saucy addition to the previous collection. Something he'd picked up in his "travels"

He set aside the "Tale of the Argonian Maid", whatever that was, and set his heels clicking against the floor as he turned and headed upstairs.

The stairwell was short, and he turned to face the Third-floor room. Now filled with two other bookshelves and a long workbench filled with all kinds of small tools for fine carving and engraving. He even had a tiny anvil for stubborn problems and a small heating lamp for softening metals. The drawers of this desk held various assorted bars of gold, pewter, glass, and copper wire, among other things like ink and paper.

He'd been surprised that Darwin had been a jeweler. Besides Stenographer, it was one of the only jobs of this time that demanded such fine finger controls. He was almost lost at first, not being able to keep Darwin's "true memories," but rules were rules. He couldn't change that.

But he had some skills of his own to work with, concepts like scale were but an illusion to Imps such as him, Fine art, A necessity! Surely, he could remaster a Human skill craft eventually. Though he must be completely honest with himself at least.

He glanced at an ugly-looking amulet and a mangled little ring his efforts had managed to produce.

It wasn't a particularly easy craft to pick up right away. Though he was sure he was getting the hang of it, it would take precious time from his other plans, but for now, a bit of income wouldn't hurt him.

If he could manage to make something that wasn't an eyesore.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a sudden stinging pain. small claw marks made red marks across the back of his hand, and he could feel them on his back and sides. They stung profusely and he let out a cry in surprise. He was bewildered for a moment until he remembered his "Pet."

"Now what is that rapscallion up to tonight? And why does it sting like a needle pushing vinegar?!" he muttered, opening the small window in his mind, which looked down into the mental apartment space of one, very noisy and pedantic, Cat.

What he found was strange but not at all unamusing, the brave and boastful little beast, being bested by an old store cat. Hilarious. and then scarfing down his winnings in an alley while feeling sorry for himself.

The Demon rolled his eyes and closed the door on that particular embarrassing moment of history. He shouldn't be up this late, to begin with anyway.

He was already off to bed, he'd experimented with sleep deprivation in a previous 'exchange' like this, the results hadn't been pretty, but a Four-hour sleep cycle was more agreeable to his enterprising spirit. He had quite a bit of work ahead of him.

His scheme had hit a snag with the obtaining of a Mage License, without that certificate he could not legally sell enchanted goods. And judging by the reaction he'd gotten at merely being at the trial, he figured the gig was up right then and there. He'd been smart to simply take his queue and leave.

But it did now present an obstacle to him and his plans to live comfortably.

He had clearly inherited a reputation as part of the exchange with that fool Warlock.

He hoped it wasn't too bad, but he may want to tread carefully from now on. Especially near the Church and Mr. Artman Wolfram. The man had been starring daggers at him the whole time, vicious, bloody daggers. It was as if His presence there had triggered some violent and insatiable need to expunge him from the earth, not that anyone was going to stop him. Or so it would seem.

He would need to use a different approach. or a proxy.

A fake name was too shallow, any of those men could recognize him. And if they had sway in the establishment, he could forget coming in through the front door, and he couldn't risk trying to come in through the backway. It would be, unwise, depending on how many people he'd pissed off while Darwin was there, Mileage may vary.

He paused a moment and thought a moment, perhaps if he could, help, a young and impressionable magician through such a grueling exam. He'd need to pick at Darwin's memories for a bit, but he was allowed to do that from time to time. He certainly had a few questions that would need answers.

Especially if he was to prepare his apprentice for the Entry Exams