GEBBO'S POV — SOMEWHERE IN TOWN
Though it was the middle of his shift, and he was supposed to be cleaning the floors, Gebbo left Sir Azarah's mansion under the pretext of buying more cleaning supplies.
However, he did not go to the town's market, but slipped into a side alley and knocked in a complicated pattern upon a dilapidated door.
The fellow on the other side of the door heard this password and let Gebbo through.
Gebbo, whose mouth seemed always twisted into a sneer, descended the stairs quickly. The two thugs at the bottom of the stairwell recognized him and let him pass with a simple nod.
Beyond was an impressive chamber where, at the moment, Gebbo's true boss sat in a huge carved chair while his many thugs gambled and drank.
Though it was the middle of the day, they were celebrating a heist they had just pulled off without a hitch. Sure, they had needed to murder a half dozen innocent people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they got their money, and that made up for all the trouble.
The huge chair seemed comical, for upon it sat a muscular dwarf by the name of Ghetorix. He was the boss of the gang, and only watched in amusement as his men partied. He himself would never get drunk at this time of day. He was far too cunning for that.
The gods help anyone who laughed at how tiny Ghetorix appeared on his throne! The crime boss had been known to chop his enemies apart, centimeter by centimeter, checking each time to see if they were still taller than him, until they were finally smaller.
Gebbo, of course, knew better than to mock his boss. His intelligence had earned him the position of spy in Sir Azarah's mansion, and it was on this spy business that he now came before Ghetorix.
The dwarf saw his spy approaching, and waved a hairy arm at the men — all of them humans, most of them commoners and not leveled — so they would quiet down for a minute.
"Well?" he asked in a voice that always sounded like he was chewing with his mouth full. "What brings you here in the middle of the workday? If you've blown your cover, I'll skin you and turn you into a cape!"
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But Gebbo was not frightened. He knew the value of the information he brought.
"It's finally the right time, Boss! The knight has some pity project he's invited over tonight, some refugee that it seems he plans to give some charity money and then send to die on the frontier against monsters!"
Several of the men around laughed. As though any villager had what it took to become an adventurer! Even among them, fewer than ten percent of their ranks were made up of 1st Level Rogues, and they were far too intelligent to waste their lives on the frontier when there were so many pickings in this fat town.
"And?" Ghetorix asked coldly. "I assume you intend for us to do a job and blame it all on this rube, but you're neglecting the fact there is still an Imperial Knight to deal with, and a renowned member of the Silver Circle at that!"
Gebbo smirked. His boss knew of his intelligence. This was almost teasing, just for the sake of the others watching. "As it happens, Boss, I've also learned that the knight is overseeing some crafting project across town. He's gone like a giddy schoolgirl to check on it twice today, and I heard mention from a messenger that he should come back near midnight to channel some of his divine energy into finishing the process."
Ghetorix's eyes, huge as all dwarves' were, gleamed in the smoky lamplight of their lair. "Well done, Gebbo! See, you bunch of idiots! This is how you do a spying job."
The leveled Rogues, of which there were only a handful nearby, touched their daggers and shot angry glares at Gebbo.
He was only a commoner. They could practically kill him by hurling a fist-sized rock at his head. If it weren't for his usefulness to Gebbo, surely at least one of them would try to kill him for embarrassing them like this. For, of course, they were not trusted with this spy mission!
Ghetorix rose from his huge throne. "I'm sending eight volunteers for the job tonight. Rather, Gebbo, five commoner thugs, and two Rogues. You ready to steal some Imperial platinum, maggots?"
His voice rose to a shout with his last words, and he raised his signature weapon, knuckle dusters made of pewter with huge spikes emanating from each knuckle.
The men cheered in response, and set to partying extra hard, knowing there would be hard work that night.
Gebbo slipped away to buy some cleaning supplies and then return to work as though nothing had been amiss.
On the way from the lair, he heard two commoners muttering to each other about how it was idiotic that a dwarf bossed them around, and how they would have to assassinate him and take over one day.
Gebbo twisted his lips into a grimace of bloody humor at this. He wouldn't be the only one to overhear. Soon, these men would be made examples.
Likely, Ghetorix would fight them both at once, stripped to his waist and wielding nothing but his knuckle dusters.
And a couple of idiotic commoners would learn the power of a 3rd Level Rogue.