A few days after Tommy left the Dungeon…
“Your tidings are rather late Tommy. Word reached us of the birth of another foul pit through the teleportation network a few days ago. So tell me again, what can you offer for our gold?”
Tommy felt his gut drop even as he began to vibrate with anger, Timberhollow must have already spread the word and these damn dwarves were about to leave him skint. At least he still had something to offer.
“Has your eradication team left yet?”
“They leave tomorrow. Why? Still have something to offer laddie?”
“I reached the third floor, I can tell them what to expect. I’ll even throw in a few contacts in Timberhollow that might be able to slip them into the dungeon. Though, if you’ve got some other races on the team might be best to let them do the talkin’, makes it a bit less obvious what yer goal is.”
“Donnae worry laddie, aside from our brothers willing to lay down their lives for this we’ve got another member.” There was a dangerous gleam in the elder dwarf’s eyes, “In fact we’ll have two. If you want yer gold that is.”
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Later that night…
Things were not going Tommy’s way, since he entered that dungeon everything had gone to shit. He didn’t want to be part of some extermination squad. He didn’t want to return to Timberhollow, particularly when he couldn’t be sure his clan was gone. And he definitely didn’t want to do it by teleportation and with a bloody minder. Not taking the wildways was just embarrassing for a beastkin. Moreover, whatever the hell Ingrid was, it wasn’t the tall, muscular human she pretended to be. Tommy had a vibe for these things and there was definitely something off about her. At least she was stoic rather than a chatterbox but as she strode through town with ginger hair constantly threatening to burst into flames, baggy robes billowing, and expecting people to get out of her way, she was going to draw attention they didn’t want. Still, showing up with a dwarf armed for battle would have been like shouting ‘someone’s here to destroy the dungeon’, hence why the group was making their way through the wilds while they made some preparations.
Tommy rapped on the nondescript door at the back of the gambling den, a jolt of frustration running through him as the slightly too short fingers resisted curling fully closed. As much as he hated getting dragged into this mission, the dungeon’s death would be sweet. The door creaked open on a latch and Tommy plastered on his number two smile.
“Ahh Ewan, good to see you. I have another business proposition for you.”
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Something felt off about this whole business to Ewan, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. Maybe it was just that this time their guys in the guard were already either caught or spooked.
“I don’t know boss; he’s clearly partnered with some folk with deep pockets. I reckon the chick with him is their real representative, or at least their muscle, but I don’t like not knowin’ who they are.”
The clacking of poker chips was the only thing to break the silence for a few moments as the boss pondered.
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“We get half now and the rest just before they enter. As long as we get the gold I don’t care if they’re here to cause a break or some shit.”
“We’ll have to get some new guards in our pocket and scare some of the old ones back in line.”
The boss waved it off, “We’ve got about a week until the rest of the group gets here, do what you have to, make it happen. If that takes a guard in a gutter to remind the rest they should be more scared of us than their bosses, well that’s on them.”
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Several days later…
Ewan glanced over his chipped tankard at the increasingly skittish looking boy in front of him, he couldn’t help but think things had gone far smoother than he’d dared to hope. He’d had to make one of his few existing contacts disappear, but then the rest had fallen in line. After that he’d moved onto the new blood in the guard. When he discovered one of the new members had family who ran a bakery near their territory, it only took a few suggestions of how dangerous an area it was, and an ‘unlucky' break in when his father had been there alone, to make him fall in line.
His latest scrawny target was easy, he was nervous and would fold to peer pressure like no one who had grown up in Ewan’s neighbourhood would. So, he’d joined the kid for drinks with some muscle, they would get him drunk and convince the kid he’d done something terrible they could hold over him. In retrospect it was a pity he’d already disappeared that body.
“Jeremy, your tankard’s only half empty! You aint flagging on us already?! I’m buyin’, so you wouldn’t spit in me face by not drinkin’, would ya?”
“I… It’s not that…I..”
Ewan zoned out of the protests for a moment as the others convinced him, the smoky environment of this tavern wasn’t really his scene but it was downmarket enough for his purposes. A woman caught his drifting gaze and approached him, normally he’d be flattered even if she was more muscular than his type, but mixing work and pleasure was never a good idea. Contriving a platitude to encourage her to move on as she weaved between the tables, he finally noticed the axe on her hip. Why the hell did she have that?
“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting but I was passing by and couldn’t help noticing Jeremy seemed a touch uncomfortable–" Her confident smile and Jeremy looking like he’d been thrown a lifeline were all Ewan needed to know it was time to cut and run. Unfortunately, he’d chosen his companions for their muscle not their brains.
“Hey lady, he’s just fine, so either tell us yer rates or get lost already.”
The shove he sent her way failed to connect but the next thing Ewan knew she was slamming him face down into the table by the shoulder and manoeuvring that arm behind his back. As Ewan rose to dart for the exit a hand slammed down on his own shoulder and he felt a blade against his neck.
“Jumpy ain’t ya? Well, if I was part of a group that picked a fight with Jenny I probably would be too.”
The fight - if it could even be called that - became even more one sided as a bulky half orc entered the fray who put his so-called muscle to shame.
“Now I figure since you were the one who wanted to rabbit, that makes you the brains of the group. The captain is going to want a word with you. Been a bit too much bad luck in the guard of late.”
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Later that evening…
Tommy cursed himself for a fool, as he stared down the man wielding a war flail that had apparently just walked through the hideout killing any ganger that got in his way. He’d figured wherever the leader was would be safest, and with Ingrid keeping an eye on him he couldn’t just cut and run, at least not if he wanted paid. Of course, that logic felt a little cheap when he watched the flesh where the war flail struck the gang leader begin to turn black and necrotise, death spreading across his body until he collapsed. Whoever the hell this guy was he had a nasty affinity and knew just how to use it. He pointed the polearm at them.
“Now, you two must be the out-of-towners who stirred up all this mess.”
Tommy was going to throttle Ewan when he next saw him, either he grassed or it was someone under him, either way it was his fault. Between himself and whatever Ingrid could do they might be able to beat this guy, the issue was the injuries he would take in the process, he already had one crippled hand, he didn’t want another.
“Do you really think you can take the two of us? Sure, that idiot died quick but he only thought he was the shit ‘cause he never left his hollow.”
The calm assurance visible through the helmet was not reassuring, “My guards are slowly tightening the cordon, I just wanted the pleasure of finally finishing this piece of scum personally. You don’t have to die, but you will tell me why you’re here.”
Then Ingrid opened her stupid mouth, but to Tommy’s surprise, the man seemed intrigued…