By the time he reached the edges of collared territory Dantes’ legs were screaming at him. He had considered, roughly halfway there, seeing how much favor and how many rats it would take to move the small cask for him. He decided against it of course, it was just the impractical thought of an exhausted body.

He checked ahead with a few rats and noticed that two guards were posted at the entrance. Both were alert, and focused on the path he’d be traveling down. He took a moment to rest, placing the cask on the ground. He didn’t want to look tired when he approached, no reason to show up appearing weak. He pulled a small flask of water from one of his jacket's many pockets and took a long sip. He used rats that surrounded him to keep watch as he did so, making sure no one was approaching from either side.

Once he felt rested, he slipped the cask back onto his back, and walked languidly, doing his best to make it appear as if it weighed nothing to him. When he came into view, the guards looked at one another, and one of them quickly ran back into collared territory to let them know he was coming.

Dantes nodded at the one that remained, and walked right past him.

“Wait-”

“Don’t worry, I can get to Merle myself, I know the way.” Dantes walked through the large cavern, drawing stares as he went. It reminded him of when he would walk through midtown after a successful heist with pockets full of gold. Everyone’s eyes were on him, whispers passing between those who watched him as he moved directly to their leader’s chamber. He had a rep now, something he’d avoided when he first got to the Pit, but which a part of him had sorely missed. He liked the stares, enjoyed the whispers too, and he was planning on maximizing them as much as possible while he was in the Pit, though when he escaped he planned to go back to a low profile, at least for a little while. It would be easier to target his old gang from the shadows.

He stepped up into Merle’s chamber just as Merle himself was stepping out of them. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead and a rag sat across his shoulders. He’d been in the middle of a workout.

“You’ve got balls, kid. No brains at all, but balls for days.”

“Merle,” said Dantes with a respectful incline of his head.

A few of Merle’s massive adherents approached from behind, but Dantes stayed still and didn’t react.

“So? I’m assuming you have something to say? Some deal to strike to make up for the risk you put on us?”

“You sure you’re cut off from magic? Seems like you have at least some ability at divination to me.”

Merle chuckled, then his face suddenly became serious. “You lied to me about your intentions, took advantage of us, and could’ve plunged us all into a war that we would’ve lost. Whatever you have to say better be really fucking good.” he gestured with his neck for Dantes to follow him into his chamber, which he did at the urging of the two massive men behind him.

Once inside, Merle sat on his stone workout bench and fixed Dantes with a stare, waiting for him to speak first.

Dantes noticed that he hadn’t asked him to remove the rapier at his waist, that was a good sign.

“First of all, I’m sorry for the spot I put you in. I offer only one excuse, I felt it was the only possible way I’d survive.”

Merle stayed silent, but began stroking his beard.

“To make it up to you, I have a business proposal that might interest you.” Dantes slipped the cask off of his back and placed it on the ground. “I have developed a steady source of high-quality booze.” He took the sample flask off his back and tossed it to Merle, who looked back at him and held it back out.

Dantes took his meaning, and sipped from the flask, before handing it back to him.

Merle sipped from the flask once he was certain Dantes wouldn’t start convulsing, he kept his face neutral, but there was a slight twitch to his eyebrow when it hit his throat.

“I want to set up a deal to sell it regularly to the Smallfolk Consortium. Obviously, I can’t move all the product myself, and seeing as you are between me and the undermarket…”

“Fifty percent,” said Merle, folding his arms together. “Of whatever you make from the Consortium, and we get some for our own use once a month.”

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Dantes shook his head. “Listen, I already guaranteed the brewer fifty percent, if you take the other fifty, I’ll be left with nothing. At that point I’d be better off just taking the longer route through the outskirts and trying to move it all myself. Or maybe take the offer to the Kobolds.”

“We could also beat you to death.” An empty threat, Dantes could already tell he was too interested to pass up the opportunity.

“How about thirty for you, and I’ll throw in some fruit with the booze you get every month?”

“Forty.”

“Thirty five.”

Merle stroked his beard one more time. “Deal.” He stood and held his hand out to Dantes.

Dante moved forward and took it.

Merle squeezed, hard, yanked Dantes toward him. “I don’t expect any more surprises, understand?’

Dantes squeezed back. He didn’t have Merle’s raw strength, but his grip was formidable thanks to the strength of his hands. Merle hid a flash of surprise and a whisper of a smile as their hands separated.

“I don’t want to make any surprises, don’t worry. In fact, I was hoping to meet someone from the Consortium here to define the terms of the deal. That way it can all be up front with you.”

Merle nodded. “Reasonable, I’ll send for one of their representatives. They’ll probably manage to send someone within a couple of hours.” He turned around and gripped on of the heavy weights he had on the side of his bench and began curling it. “We should figure out the details between the two of us before they arrive.” He gave it three more curls and looked at Dantes more closely. “You been working out?”

…

After Dantes and Merle had worked everything out, they stepped back out of his sweat scented chambers and into the cavern proper. It would likely take the consortium a bit longer to send a rep, so he walked through to find the dice game. He received a few nods from random Collared, and a few looks of fear, and appreciated them all before he reached the game.

The usual suspects were there, Wane, Tel, Pillion, as well as a couple others he didn’t recognize, though they seemed to be on their way out, cursing as Pillion pocketed a few pieces of copper and a well crafted pipe.

Tel noticed him first, and stood as he approached. “Dantes!”

“Televor,” he said, nodding at him. “Wane, lil Pilly.”

“Dantes,” said Wane, nodding at him.

Pillion ignored him, too offended at the name.

Dantes sat down and put a small bag of dust in front of himself. The same one he’d stolen from their guard a few weeks prior. He’d become more tempted to use it himself, and so was hoping to lose it.

The rest of them put their bets in, and Pillion began shaking the dice.

“So, you worked things out with Merle?” asked Wane.

“Yeah, he’s a reasonable guy. Didn’t have much trouble.”

They all nodded, as Pillion put the cup down, and showed the first roll before allowing everyone to change their bets if they wanted to. He picked the dice back up and started shaking the cup again.

“So, how did you do it?” asked Tel.

“Do what?”

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about. How’d you make the explosions happen in the right place at the right time? Did you have some help? Did you rig up some kind of device?”

“Did you just get really lucky?” asked Pillion.

“I’ll tell you exactly how I did it,” said Dantes. “I did it very carefully.”

They all waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t they just sighed and watched the second roll.

“Do you want to know what happened with the elves after you left?”

Dantes nodded. “I’ve got my sources. I even heard about what happened to Iron. Lost an eye and a rib from a gun misfiring? That’s why I never trusted those things.”

“Yeah, apparently the Orcs have started sniffing around their territory and trade, they smell blood,” said Wane.

“Sad you can’t join them?” asked Pillion.

Wane shot him a look. “If I wanted blood, I’d break you against the wall. Roll the dice.”

Dantes watched the exchange passively. Wane didn’t enjoy it when anyone engaged in Orcish stereotypes, Dantes personally thought it was a bit funny that he answered them with threats of violence, but that wasn’t really his business.

They rolled a few more rounds, and Dantes successfully managed to lose and regain his dust before there was a commotion that drew his attention. The Consortium had arrived, and they’d brought two elvish bodyguards with them.