Zak, Jayson, and Jayk sat on a too soft couch in an opulent parlor listening to the sounds of a man being beaten to death in the other room. They looked at the gaudy gold and purple curtains, the richly brocaded furniture, and the thick and heavily patterned carpet. Independent of one another the different pieces could be considered beautiful, but together they created a maddening mix of patterns that created a cacophony of visual noise. Jayk noted it immediately as the kind of thing that happened when someone with no taste very suddenly had lots of money.

Jayson scratched his leg absently. The wound he’d received from the crossbow bolt had been healed, but paying for discount healing had left him paranoid that something was still wrong with it. He sipped the cup of tea that the maid had prepared. It was flavorful, but had been sweetened too much for him to tell what specific notes he was picking up. He shot the maid a smile.

“It’s quite good.”

She nodded, keeping a neutral expression.

Zak leaned on the edge of the couch at the far end. His eyes set on the door from which heavy thuds, whimpers, and the occasional scream were ringing out. He clenched and unclenched his fist as he sat there, finding himself reaching for the sword that had been at his waist only a half hour before when he’d surrendered it at the front door to the manor.

The sounds of the beating ceased, and heavy footsteps came to the door before it swung open. The man who pushed it open moved over to the maid, who had picked up a silver tray, and he removed the brass knuckles from his hands, letting them fall onto the tray with a clang. They were covered in blood and hair.

The man then moved to a nearby desk, opening it and pulling a cigar which he lit, and enjoyed a long inhale of before putting up a cloud of silver smoke. He slicked back long blonde hair as he walked toward the couch. He was wearing a black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dark gray pants held up with brown leather suspenders. He was large, with clearly orcish ancestry, but his face was oddly boyish and youthful, only showing his age when he furrowed his brow. He sat on the couch across from them, and took another inhale, holding it with his eyes closed for just a moment before letting out another large cloud of smoke.

“Sorry about the wait. I had to deal with a FUCKING idiot and it was too pressing to wait.”

“It’s no problem, Mondego, sir,” said Jayson.

“Idiots are an enormous problem actually, but of course you meant your waiting.” He took another inhale. “Cigar?”

“Yes, please.” said Jayson, Zak also nodded, but Jayk held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t interested.

Mondego snapped his fingers. “Give them a couple of the cheap ones. The ones from Frasheid.”

She nodded, and left, returning with two cigars which she lit for both Jayson, and Zak. As Jayson inhaled, he realized it was the nicest smoke he’d ever had.

“So, Bane told me that you boys are escapees from the pit. That true?”

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly, then he leaned forward, any sign of affability completely fading from his face as he fixed them with a glare that could bore a hole in concrete.

“How did you escape?”

“A tree grew in the middle of the Maw. When we saw it, we started climbing. The guards had no idea how to rea-”

Mondego held up a hand for him to stop. “That’s enough.” He looked at what appeared to be a half black, and half gold ring on his middle finger. “Before you escaped, did you ever encounter someone named ‘Dantes’?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The three of them exchanged glances.

“Yes,” said Jayson. “We met him a few times.”

“Describe him to me.”

“Uh, he was a Mutt. Dark gray skin, black hair, gold eyes, not quite average height, too big nose.”

Mondego nodded, clenching and unclenching his fist. “He was alive when you left?”

“Far as we know…”

“And did you ever work with him? Would you call him a friend?”

Jayk shook his head this time. “We did do a job for him. Beat up a gnome. Wouldn’t call him a friend. He acted like he was too good for us. Refused to work with us because of what we called ourselves.”

Mondego continued to glare at them in silence for a few moments. “Do you know if he escaped too?”

Jayson shook his head. “No idea. We were mostly just focusing on ourselves.”

Mondego leaned back. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

Jayson eyed the door that Mondego had just come through. He wasn’t lying, but he was certainly being careful about how he told the truth. “No, sir.”

Mondego nodded. “Alright. I’m putting you under Yrilet for now, at the docks. She needs extra muscle down there for some big shipments we’ve got coming in.” He stood and started unrolling his sleeves. “Ask my man Trinner that brought you here, and he’ll take you to her.”

“Um, should we tell Bane, sir?” asked Jayson.

Mondego gestured for his maid to bring him his coat, which she needed to stand on a stool to hold up for him to slip on. “Wouldn’t be a reason to. I just finished beating him to death.”

“Oh… We’ll report to Yrilet right away.”

“Please do, and if you hear anything about Dantes getting out, or anyone else, you come to me immediately. Unless you’d prefer to wind up like Bane.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get the fuck out of here. I have more important people to see.”

The three of them quickly left, and headed back out for the street.

Mondego stood there, chewing on the end of his cigar more than smoking it. He looked at the maid. “Send a message to the Temple. I want that bastard here now.”

She nodded quietly, and left the room.

Mondego stood there alone in silence for a moment before sending his will through the steel ring in his right hand and summoning his morningstar. He let out a primal yell and smashed it into a dresser. In one strike it was in splinters, all of which bounced harmlessly off of him. He dismissed the mace, returning it to where it was stored.

“Someone get the fuck in here and clean this up!”

…

Trinner had turned out to be more interested in visiting his favorite whore, and so had left Jayk, Jayson, and Zak with some slapdash directions to where Yrilet was. They walked through Midtown together as they made their way to the docks.

“We’re sure this is the right call? I mean, telling half truths and playing things close to the chest… this could fuck us in the long run,” said Jayson, stepping around a dust addict scratching himself in the middle of the alley.

“So could committing fully one way or the other. We know that Mondego hates Dantes, we know that Dantes hates Mondego, we think Dantes escaped, and now both of them have reason to trust us in regards to the other.”

Zak drummed the hilt of his sword as they walked. “I don’t see why we couldn’t just join up with the adventurer’s guild… or one of the merc companies… or even just sign up to serve in the Navy. Shit's going to get bad here.” He looked around at the dingy wet streets. “Things are already bad here. We can just leave.”

Jayk shook his head. “Everywhere is bad, but this is the place to be. All we have to do is keep working for Mondego. Eventually Dantes will come for him, and that pretty wife of his.”

Jayson let out a high pitched whistle. “Shit, I’d be bitter about losing a piece like that too.”

Jayk nodded, “Right? Anyway, as I was saying, he’ll come for Mondego, and when he does we’ll be perfectly positioned to pick a side. We betray whichever one of them we think is going to lose, and wind up in a way better position than where we started.”

“Unless we fuck it up and make the wrong choice,” countered Jayson.

“Well, no plan is perfect. I just think it’s our best chance.”

“I’d rather stick with Dantes,” said Zak simply. “Mondego seems like an asshole.”

Jayk shook his head. “I don’t know. Mondego is what he is, but Dantes is harder to read. I think I’d prefer to go with someone whose intentions are obvious.”

“We’ll just have to vote on it when we get to that point… though I do worry about betting against Dantes. He seemed to be on the losing team every time in the Pit until he wasn’t. Hard to gauge that,” said Jayson.

“Not to mention he’s a fucking mage,” added Zak.

“We don’t know that he’s a mage… but he’s definitely got something fucking going on. Even just having a contact that’s a magic seed guy is a boon of a sort… if highly specific.”

They walked in silence for a bit longer, the smell of sea air starting to hit them as they reached the edge of the docks. They started passing sailors, fish carts, and rough bars as they got closer to the warehouse that Yrilet was supposedly in.

“You know, I think we’ll like working in the docks better than Midtown,” said Jayson as they passed a cart full of rotting and fly-covered fish.

“Why’s that?” asked Jayk.

“Smells better.”