“... And so the gnome sailor says to the orc, ‘I’ve never seen a man firmer in his beliefs’.” finished Dantes with a smile.

Sera’s face contorted as she tried to resist laughing, but holding it back just meant that it came out with a loud snort that drew the stares of people nearby. “That’s a terrible joke.”

“That’s what makes it funny,” replied Dantes with his mind's eye still watching Gaspard drunkenly sleep. “I learned that joke from Vera actually, heard her telling it when she thought I wasn’t listening.”

“Really? I can’t picture her telling a joke. A wry observation maybe, but not a joke.”

“You just haven’t seen her drunk enough then.”

Sera raised her eyebrows, and prepared to ask more questions when a large man in a dark red Tymond naval officer’s uniform, along with the requisite mustache, walked into the Vixen. She swiftly amended her expression to something a little haughty, and he immediately asked to share a drink with her.

The rest of the afternoon went by with little issue for the Vixen, which let Dantes obsessively watch Gaspard as he stood at the door, nearly vibrating with anticipation. The girls left him mostly alone as they swapped who manned the door with him. Usually they’d make smalltalk, or even flirt a bit, but they could tell his focus was elsewhere and saw fit to give him his space.

Decker didn’t arrive at the Vixen until the sun was setting. He had a tired and miserable expression on his face, but this time Dantes ignored it, not letting him get his customary drink and instead quickly collecting supplies from his room, before collecting Jacopo in a nearby alley. Gaspard had started to stir in his sleep, and the building he was in would take more than an hour to reach by foot, or paw.

He walked toward his destination until he was as close to Midtown as he was willing to risk as a human. He no longer felt any agitation at the large milling crowds in Rendhold’s streets, and that day he didn’t even see them. He simply moved, and the crowd parted from him almost instinctively, knowing danger when they saw it.

“This one will bleed today?” asked Jacopo, peering through the same rat’s mind that Dantes was looking through.

“Oh yes.”

“No taking away from him? No complications?”

“He doesn’t have anything to take. Except his life. The only thing he might offer to delay losing that is information on the others.”

“Good. Some sense. Finally,” muttered Jacopo mentally. Whether he meant good sense to the world at large or from Dantes himself, he didn’t take the time to consider.

At the edge of Midtown, Dantes shifted into the form of a rat and continued on his way. The pace was much slower than he wanted, but being recognized could cost him far more time.

Gaspard finally woke up once Dantes was just under a mile away. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and dragged himself to a bucket in the corner to vomit before swishing some water from a clear bottle and spitting it on the ground. He dragged himself to his bag then did a bump of dust, smacking himself in the face a few times to perk up. After that he laid on his dirty mattress and stared at the ceiling for a while, sipping occasionally from his water bottle and muttering curses, promises, and prayers under his breath.

Dantes recognized that state. It reminded him of how he’d been when he’d first arrived in the Pit. Staying in a fugue state of alcohol and dust for as long as he possibly could, scraping by on favors and violence, falling asleep in pools of his own filth. He felt immense satisfaction seeing Gaspard that way. He looked forward to making him feel even worse.

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He and Jacopo reached Gaspard’s den shortly after nightfall. The moon was shining full and beautiful in the sky. Not hidden by the streetlights lit by Academy students, as bringing them to this part of the city would be far too dangerous.

It was an old three story slumhouse. The brick it had been built of had long before started to wear down, with thick cracks lining each wall. Between those cracks Dantes could sense rats and roaches, who he began to rally and organize. The smell of rot and decay emanated from within the building, and Dantes slipped in as a rat next to Jacopo. Once he was inside, he shifted back to human form, and began placing his vermin strategically around the room.

He pulled down his hood, and stepped into the room where Gaspard was lamenting his fate.

He was so in the throes of his despair, that it took him nearly a full minute to see Dantes looming at the end of the room, his golden eyes glinting in the light of the nearly melted candle by Gaspard’s bed.

He started breathing quickly, sitting up quickly, and rubbing his eyes before blinking and looking at the water bottle next to him, as if wondering if he’d accidentally spiked himself.

“I’m afraid I’m very real.”

“What the fuck!” said Gaspard, pushing himself up the wall and bringing himself to his feet, his eyes wide with fear.

Dantes raised his hands. “Oh no, don’t be afraid, old friend. I’m just here for a chat,” he lied, a smile on his face.

“Re-Really?”

“Yes. Just a chat. After that I’ll leave you be.”

Gaspard almost believed him, the tension beginning to leave his body, before it snapped back into him. “I’m not nearly drunk or high enough to believe that.”

Dantes lunged for him. He kept his dagger at his waist. Gaspard was the only one of the gang that had been smaller than him, and he was confident he could overpower him, particularly now.

Unfortunately, Gaspard had a trick up his sleeve. Out of it, he pulled a wand which he quickly sent his will through as he aimed it at Dantes.

Dantes threw himself to the side at the last moment, and a ball of white energy blasted past him before hitting the brick wall behind him and launching both of them with concussive force.

“Fuck.” muttered Dantes as he stood up, and looked for Gaspard in the haze of dust and debris the wand had kicked up. He heard him bolt up the stairs, and then stillness. He cast his focus to a rat he’d already placed there, and saw Gaspard sitting at the top of the creaky steps with the wand pointed downward.

“Where’d you find a thing like that?” yelled Dantes from below before he shifted into rat form and moved into a hole in the wall where he began climbing upward.

“Did a job for an academy graduate. Pushed a rival of his off a high balcony. I’ve got plenty of charges on it to burn through too.”

Dantes reached the second floor and shifted back into human form, creeping up behind him. He had rats make some additional noise near the bottom of the stairs to help mask his movements.

Gaspard couldn’t hear him. He could only hear his heart beating in his ears, and small bits of debris in his eyes were making it hard to see for him as well.

Dantes lunged at him from behind, grabbing the arm that held the wand as he did so.

Gaspard loosed another blast on the ceiling, but Dantes kept his grip strong, and when they landed on the ground he slammed Gaspards hand on the floor again and again until he released the wand which Dantes brushed away.

“Wait, wait!” yelled Gaspard as Dantes threw him into the wall. “Please, I’ll tell you anyth-”

Dantes’ fist hit his gut with enough force that he was thrown into the old brick wall behind him, and a cloud of dust came off of it. Everything went red. For a few moments, all of Dantes’ plans, questions, and focus on the vermin around him dropped completely. He was all muscle, rage, and brutality and he rained down blows on Gaspard like a typhoon.

Dantes barely managed to hold himself back from killing him, but when he’d stopped Gaspard had spat up blood, and teeth. His face was a swollen and red mess, and his body had kept him mercilessly conscious.

Dantes breathed heavily. His fists were covered in small cuts, and the bones in his knuckles felt as if they’d cracked. The building groaned, as if the fight had been too much for its old frame to handle. Dantes grabbed Gaspard by leg and started to drag him down the stairs.

Gaspard groaned as he bounced on them one by one. Dantes grabbed his bag, and then dragged him out into the alley. A light rain was falling, and Dantes pulled up his hood before he started to move down the alley, deeper into the dilapidated square of Midtown in which he’d found himself. The building they were in had been falling apart, and they’d made a lot of noise that might attract people, so he needed to move Gaspard to a second location.

He looked at Gaspard’s battered form and noted that he was finally unconscious. Jacopo rode on his chest, watching him for signs of struggle.

“You go ahead and nap for now Gaspard. We’ll get you to your second location soon.”