The Undermarket was full of the stench of booze and sweat. All of the various small bars scattered throughout it were full of cheerful drunken orcs, still high off their victory at the supply drop even weeks later and, most likely, fistfuls of dust and weed as well. Dantes didn’t attempt to keep a low profile as he typically did. Instead he pulled his hood down, and walked with his rapier clearly visible at his waist. He exchanged nods with several orcs as he walked through, and even had to decline two offers of free drinks. Even if he wasn’t busy, the idea of drinking again so soon after the previous day’s debauchery filled him with dread. Still, he kept it all smiles and friendly gestures. The orcs needed to believe he was on their side.
Before he headed to the Which Wench, he made a side trip to Clay’s booth. He had just rearranged his plants, and Dantes took the time to admire them as he waited for Clay to complete a transaction with a halfling for a bit of weed. His plants felt content and well cared for, as always, aside from being just a bit parched. Dantes continued to be impressed by his ability to accomplish things as a gardener with limited means that he could only do with the abilities he’d gained.
Once Clay was done he turned his attention to Dantes. “Dantes, hey, you here for the-?” he gestured vaguely as if he couldn’t quite remember the word.
“The seed, yes, had any luck?”
Clay nodded. “Yes, actually. I spoke with some of my Consortium contacts. They told me it was the oddest request they’d ever received, but they managed to get one for me. Had to call an extra favor that’ll probably cost my sister a couple silver up at her bar in midtown.”
“You’re from midtown?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m from an old logging town in the south. Family moved here when the trees ran out. Sister and I opened businesses. Hers was legit, mine…not so much. Anyway…” he reached toward his beard, parting the mushroom and moss ridden strands of hair to put his hand into it and pull out a fist sized orb of dark brown, with a rough texture.
The moment it came into view, Dantes could feel its presence. He’d felt faint life in seeds before, but the life emanating from this seed wasn’t faint at all, it was thrumming with an intense vitality, the desire to grow, the will to reach the heavens. He began to reach toward it unconsciously, and Clay snatched it back.
“Come on, you know the rules. We haven’t even started to bargain.”
Dantes shook his head, breaking his concentration on the seed. “You're right, sorry, too much drink yesterday.”
Clay shook his head. “That’s why I stick to weed. No hangovers from it yet.”
Dantes shrugged. “So, you said it cost your sister a couple silver, how about I give you five gold right here.”
He shook his head. “It will cost my sister two silver, but it already cost me a favor, and a bag of weed. Five gold coins down here barely meets the value of two silver coins back up top.”
“Come on, five gold down here is worth way more than that. I was being generous.”
“Maybe five to trade with the smallfucks, but for anyone else in the undermarket it’s nearly useless.”
“Three gold and a full skin of bloody brew.”
Clay scratched his beard. “I think that’s closer, but this seed… I don’t know, maybe I’d be better off holding onto it. It fits so nicely in my beard.”
“Fine, five gold pieces, a full skin of brew, and I’ll hook you up with the Collared for as much fresh water for your plants as you could need.” That last part of the offer was a gamble, but considering Clay’s plants felt a bit thirsty, something he’d never felt them complain about before, he thought it would be worth a shot.
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Clay kept his face impassive for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll take the gold up front, and you can bring me the rest later.”
Dantes smiled, and handed him the gold. He had, in some ways, been had. That much for a seed would seem ridiculous to anyone except Clay, but the potential use he had for it made it worth the price, especially with the resources he had access to being much more abundant than they had been.
Clay handed him the seed, and he tucked it into his jacket, feeling the life within it pulse like a heartbeat. Dantes looked around the rest of Clay’s booth, his eyes falling on the large pile of weed at the end. “Any chance you’d be willing to part with most of that as well?”
…
Dantes made his way to the brothel at a slower pace than he usually walked. He felt weighed down, and not by the large seed he’d just purchased. He was feeling drawn to the easy path. He could work to convince the changelings to just do what the orcs wanted, get himself protection and goods in return, and maybe even be able to soften the treatment the changelings received in the process. It wasn’t a bad plan, and it would give him the freedom to focus more on his own escape. The seed was a backup plan, ideally he’d be able to work with the consortium or even some of the guards the next time they took a trek into the pit, but he still needed more resources before he could even broach the subject.
He didn’t owe Syn anything more than an attempt to negotiate on their behalf, but then he heard the words Ryker had said. “They’re just whores,” and his jaw clenched. No, he wouldn’t work with them. He’d take the riskier option. Besides, in the long run, it would likely be more profitable for him. Besides which, he didn’t want to join the orcs, didn’t want to join any gang. He wanted to lead one.
It was Selvyn at the front again, she smiled at him as he approached, but behind the smile her shape flickered and he saw the pale long creature she actually was scowling at him. She shifted into a large human woman spilling out of a milkmaid outfit.
“Hello there Dantes, looking for a roll in the hay?”
“I’d take a night of sleeping on a hay bed with no rolling, if that’s on offer.”
“Fraid not, time in my bed is money.”
Dantes shrugged. “Oh well. Is Syn in?”
Selvyn nodded. “Yeah, and she's between clients now.” She smiled, “Not literally, you can head back.”
Dantes nodded, feeling a bit suspicious as he moved past her and into the brothel itself. She hadn’t done nearly the same amount of flirting as she usually did, and he could detect a stiffness to her transformation that felt forced. He hadn’t noticed anyone tailing him through his rats, so he didn’t think she was acting off for his benefit. He wondered if he owed her money or had cost her a client, but he couldn’t recall anything like that. He had it in his mind that he’d ask Syn.
The moment he walked into the room he found himself surrounded by a half dozen men. The one behind him closed the door. All of them had no pupils, and stared at him dead eyed, they were nameless. He looked across the room where he saw Syn sitting at the edge of her bed, her usual smile wasn’t on either her fake or real face, and instead she just regarded him with a frown, and sad eyes. She was in the shape of a young human woman with wide eyes and long auburn hair that fell past her shoulders in thick curls.
“Syn…” said Dantes simply, trying to buy some time to figure out what was going on.
“Go ahead,” she said, tilting her head. “Pitch me changelings being bound to the orcs. Explain how working with you will make it less painful for us, while you join their gang with a new source of profit lining your pockets.”
Dantes nodded slowly. Someone had talked to her, or another changeling about the meeting he’d had with Ryker. It made sense that Syn would be keeping tabs on what he was doing, not to mention anything to do with the Orcs since they began trying to extort them.
“If that was my plan, this reaction would be more than fair.”
Syn shook her head. “There’s no reason to lie. Loose lipped orcish clients, and the gnome bartender have both confirmed it.”
“Did you consider that I was lying for an even bigger con?”
Syn’s form flickered for a moment, but her actual expression didn’t change.
“I need the Orc’s trust, so I had to lean into things. Make them think I was completely on their side and willing to help them against you.”
Syn stayed silent.
Dantes looked around and gestured at the nameless around the room. “Listen, I understand you being incredulous, we’ve known each other for a while. I know changelings value their freedom, which they lose so much of when they get down here. The idea of further restrictions must be beyond bearing for you, but in this case I’m on your side.”
Syn tilted her head, and smiled. “Good! I was hoping that was the case.” she gestured to the nameless and they walked out the door. “Still, we don’t enjoy broken promises, and had no way to bind you to them, so the other changelings insisted.”
Dantes took a deep breath, trying to calm his dancing pulse.
“So,” said Syn, standing up and taking the form of a large orcish woman before placing her hand on the wall behind him so she could look down at him. “What’s your plan?”
Dantes smiled, glad to see Syn’s mood switch back to playful so easily. “Well, it’s got a lot of moving parts, but here’s the gist of it…”