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Wolfsteeth, Southern District, Lousy Louse Luise's Lounge, Weeks after the encounter (fight) with Quill

Inside a dark and dirty bar sat a night-elf, drinking cheap and stale beer, having the fancy taste called drowning rat, and thinking about what had gone wrong two weeks ago. The light from the half-broken chandelier and crocked candles lit up the dirt, scaring away the special of the day they served occasionally. Even though he probably would get every disease one could get by touching the ground, it was somewhat cozy, probably due to the lousy ventilation and candle smoke slowly filling up.

His first problem was that a skill glued to him for two weeks. After the weird confrontation with a crazy drunk rabbit, where his trainee died, he fled, but even after hiding for a day, all his instincts screamed that someone was tracking him. As such, he looked for a mage and confirmed that he had some weird modified spell on him that was used to mark his location. However, getting rid of it was too costly, and because of that, he waited until it disappeared naturally.

What about his trainee, though? As much as he saw, she was already dead. She showed amateurish and too-aggressive behavior. It would probably be possible to work something out with the rabbit, like bribing him. He always told his trainees that killing should be the last method one should use. One couldn't be careful enough who was who. Other than that, one could always kill the other later on.

Also, the brothel was only a facade to trick some poor bastards into loving their workers and skimming as much coin as possible from them. The business wasn't even making that much, so it would be acceptable to hire another person as long as they wouldn't get any attention.

However, now that he was free again, he wanted to relax after barely sleeping for the last few weeks. He always kept one eye open, looking out for this scary rabbit who avoided his sure-way kill shot.

"You are here too?"

Hearing the familiar voice, he turned to the side and saw a masked individual. From how he walked and his tone of voice, it was obvious who it was, "Is there a reason you always use a fox mask, Will?"

William audibly smiled, sitting down elegantly, "Am I not as beautiful as those? I am quite offended if you think otherwise, Makol."

Who were they? Makol, the night-elf who also fought the rabbit, was one of the leading figures in the camp and the one who incited a rebellion that toppled their last leader, Habog. While powerful, he also lazily accepted their situation and did not want to change it in any way to not anger the Count because of their treaty.

However, when Makol was out hunting one day, he found a blood demon parasite that a scholar had left. It was a unique mutation. By acquiring it, he saw the possibility of getting his people out of Kratikal, trying to create all kinds of plans with endless possibilities.

One was that they could provoke an internal war inside Moorgrel or with the central Mal-Gil nobility while simultaneously bringing chaos through their blood demon, which could infect others and create enormous waves of long-lasting demon runs.

Besides, they contacted more than a dozen nobles who were less than amicable toward Moorgrel. All they had to do was push slightly and help them find their comrades-in-arms with the same ambitions and disgust toward the canine-kin. It was an easy feat, so they could start plotting a conspiracy, especially the dumb and ambitious ones whose last chance was grouping themselves together with their kind.

With their pressure increasing from the infighting and demon run, they could take over a small piece of land, barely enough for them to flourish, and hope that the Count wouldn't care about their agreement sufficiently to send his military there while they had much more pressing conflicts.

Afterward, before any bloodshed could happen, they could show part of their military power by resisting and agreeing to stay there and live peacefully. With the conflict in central Mal-Gil, it should be uncomplicated for the Count to ignore his previous agreements.

They did all this, preparing a stage for it to go down, even sacrificing many of their own people so they could get the funds needed. For him, survival was not enough; he wanted his people to flourish, grow, and at least get a chance. While it sounded like a great idea to him years ago that they could resist the Knightages, it was impossible, as they found out. The Knights were monsters, living weapons of destruction, and could easily eradicate the whole camp without help.

They found it sadly out when they tried their assassination on Patricia to incite an internal Moorgrelian feud. First of all, she survived, and their people were killed. The only thing they did was injure Alexander, and his household became enraged, starting to raid and assassinate the underworld, even eradicating a good chunk of their spies.

They would have no chance of survival if they continued this aggressive path. However, because of their actions and information gathering, where they truly excelled, they discovered another, much easier way. They would need to hold the pressure on the Leonandra fief with their blood demon and increase it over the next year. Other than that, they got lucky, as one of the demon parasite children evolved into something like a parent. They immediately put it to the North, to the Iron-Claw territory, so the Leonandra household wouldn't be able to get help easily and would be pressured further.

It was mainly thanks to Fiorello for giving them vital information on how the Knightages acted. Even better, he died, not making any more problems with his rather bizarre taste. However, because of him, they gathered more vital intel, more precisely, and made another, much better plan. This time, it was feasible.

The Moorgrelians had many enemies, too many, because of their rather infamous way of getting rid of the last Emperor at the Blue Bloody Night. All the camp needed to do was continue collecting their enemies, get them together, and organize a conspiracy, with them waiting in the background. When the war started, they would give them a helping hand in defending the border against the wild demons that they controlled.

With an ongoing internal war between the Count and central Mal-Gil nobility, Moorgrel would probably accept the camp's help and support while ignoring the other Higher Nobility, who would probably try their hand at assassinating the children of the Guard Households or, worse, Moorgrel's, which Makol made sure that something like this would happen.

However, the County of Moorgrel was a sleeping dragon, and many forgot how strong they were. So, it would be perfect to manipulate smaller and newer households from Dukes or Marquises to conspire against him, like they did before. Only now, they ramped up their search for the losers of each household as they were the most susceptible to the promises of honor, fame, and pride. Better even, they could huddle in groups, making themself sound more influential than they were, constructing something they weren't.

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If they attacked or did anything stupid, the treaties made between the Temple and the Crown, then between the Crown and Higher Nobility, and lastly, between Higher Nobility and Moorgrel could be nullified. Bizarrely, while one could say in good faith that it was a deal between all those parties, it was technically not, and the Count, knowing how he acted, wouldn't act in good faith when something terrible happened to his children while his territory was under pressure.

The only problem left was that all the other kinds of subraces hated them. While scavengers were seen as trash everywhere, not acknowledged by anyone, Makol's night-elf subrace was despised, and the wind-djinns were also hated. However, it mattered little. When they could establish themselves, it would only be a matter of time before they got accepted.

Because of that reason, he wanted to make Alexander the next heir. He listened to his speeches, in which he didn't care about race, only about those who lived in the territory; it was perfect for them, and they needed to support it.

With him being the new Lord, who hated them wouldn't matter. Everyone followed the ruler's moral compass, and with Alexander, sooner or later, everyone would change. Thus, they worked hard after the assassination attempt to do everything in their power to keep him safe, even though it sounded bizarre after almost killing him.

Makol emerged from his thoughts, still tired from the two-week-long hiding, when William tapped on the table, his voice melodic, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Looking at him, Makol frowned, starting to speak in a weird dialect, a mix of their three languages mashed together, only understood by their camp, "Of course you are, but what news do you have for me?"

William leaned forward, sounding excited, "Alexander is outside now."

Makol looked at him blankly, as if he was a moron, "Did you get stupid? Everyone knows. He is holding speeches daily, and we are trying to protect him. Did you forget?"

William shook his head, coming closer, leaning over the table, putting his ass up, "I know this, but I found out that someone is interested in information about him."

Makol became immediately stern, not liking it at all. Alexander, while not absolutely sure, was the best way to ensure their long-term survival, "Who is so stupid to look for intel of the child of the Leonandra household?"

William sat down, plopping and sounding bored again, shrugging, "Nobody knows. However, I discovered it's some other noble, specialized in information."

Markol started to scratch his head, "Nine-Fire? No, Peter calmed down after Fio was killed. Who else is there..." However, before he could continue his speculations, a distorted voice came from the side, speaking roughly their dialect, "I already like what you talk about."

In shock, they both turned around and looked at a cloaked figure sitting at another table, slightly away from them. William immediately readied an attack, but Makol signaled him to stop. Since the person signaled to them that they were there, they acted in good faith. Otherwise, they could easily eavesdrop and sell the information without both of them even knowing about it.

William was the first to ask, his jovial tone entirely gone, replaced with hostility, "Who are you?"

While childish, he was an excellent scout and spy, so someone eavesdropping on them was a relatively rare occurrence as it showed that the person was far more skilled. As such, it was wiser first to listen and then decide what to do.

When the fully cloaked and hooded person turned around, their face was distorted by an inkish swirl, moving in uncertain patterns, sometimes showing two deep black circles representing the eyes. When the mouth opened into a creepy o-form, their voice felt ethereal, not female or male, just otherwordly, "I am a friend and am only here for a deal."

William was tense, as he was usually distrusting, "Deal?"

However, Makol wasn't against listening, "Interesting..."

The person pulled out a letter, holding it before them, "Read it. You will probably like it."

Before they could say anything more, the person stood up, walking to them and throwing the letter on their table. After doing so, they looked at both of them, making them nervous, "Just read it and give me an answer. More details are written down." With that, he left, with Markol and William looking at the letter on the table, confused.

Makol quickly took the letter, "Let me..." While opening it, he didn't fear that it was some trap. A person who could sneak up on them could also easily kill them. As such, he wanted to know what they wanted from him.

However, he stopped after the first sentence, frowning, 'Is this some kind of joke?'

In his hands, the letter was basically the solution to all of the camp's problems. Was he happy? Partly. It meant that all they did until now was useless. All the sacrifices, the murders, and killings they did, all the plotting, all the enslavement of their own people to fund them, everything became useless, as if he hunted for weeks, hungry and thirsty, following the tracks of an animal, only to find at the end not an animal but someone who served him warm soup for free.

Makol couldn't believe the written words, as they were like warm honey to his soul, 'Ridicilious... is this a trick?'

However, before thinking further, William asked, interrupting him and sounding excited, "So?..." He held his hand forward, "...let me see. I dealt with many letters and can easily figure out their intentions."

Makol sighed, giving it to him, "Have it your way."

William was an excellent manipulator, almost too good. As such, he talked with nearly every nobleman since he could manipulate them, making them interested and knowing precisely what to say and do. It was like an innate skill, mysterious and to the point. They were fortunate that he was on their side only because of his Mother, who was sick. However, because he was invaluable, they did everything they could to help her, but she was a stubborn old lady who never wanted to leave their encampment.

After he took it and started reading, it became eerily silent. After five minutes, William answered, returning the letter and sounding slightly bored, "We take the deal."

Makol frowned, "We need to talk about it and decide by..." William shook his head, interrupting him, "We take it, end of discussion."

Makol frowned, "Are you now the leader?"

William chuckled, "You want to let it vote on by whom? Those bastards who want only destruction and death?..." He waved his hand in dismissal, "...nobody cares about their opinion. Honestly, what is there to lose? We just..." He stopped his sentence and swirled his hand once, creating a wind that flew through the bar and to the outside.

He sat still, with closed eyes, waiting for something. Yet, after a few minutes, he opened his eyes again, looking at Markol and continuing, as joyful as before, "...will continue our previous plan and..." He came closer again, bending over the table, looking excitedly at him, "...we can investigate everything beforehand, right?"

William was right. They had literally nothing to lose. Even investigating the couple of islands written down would be easy for them. As such, he looked at his partner, "You need to pick some guys."

William leaned back, putting one leg over the other, becoming more casual, but Makol could still sense that the wind around the bar became much more rowdy, "Shouldn't I do this by myself?"

Markol quickly shook his head, "No, I need you to convince those other nobles we found. Like I said, we will follow our last plan until we confirm that this one works."

William moved his head as if he rolled his eyes, "Annoying! However, it will be done boss. I just need..." Makol interrupted him, exactly knowing what he wanted to say, "Take what and who you need. We will do our best to look after your Mother."

William nodded and moved the wind toward Markol's cheek, which he swatted away. The playful wind-djinn immediately chuckled but became as quickly serious again, "Listen, I want nothing more than to bring my Mother away from Krati, and this is a chance without much risk. Whoever is behind it obviously has pity for us and wants to help us, and let me be honest..." an intense aura came from him, "...I would sell my soul to achieve my goal, got it?"

Makol ignored the aura and looked at him intensely, "Don't you find it humiliating?"

"Excuse me?" William laughed, "Haha! Humiliating?! Are you crazy? We live worse than farm animals, and you are thinking someone wants us to use for warfare is humiliating? Get a grip..." He stood up, "...I saw all those damn nobles, and this person is obviously, whoever it is, trying to ensure that we are somewhat useful but giving us the support we need actually to get something better than whatever half-baked plan you had."

Makol smiled sadly, knowing too well that he had failed initially with his big dreams and did not know the enormous power difference. However, his current plan was much better; he just needed to wait for the right moment. Yet, should the letter become true, he would immediately get rid of his old plan and switch to the new one.

"Sure, let's first see if it is not some weird trap."

William shrugged, turning around and leaving, "I trust my gut feeling, and it never did me wrong."

However, as William was about to leave, Makol asked him quickly, "What about Klepto?" He turned back, looked at him, and shrugged, "My puppet? The problem will solve itself in a year or so when he..." He gestured by drawing a line over his neck, "...you know, but that's whatever."

Makol nodded, "Fine, I will negotiate a better deal, so try your best to investigate it, and don't neglect the previous plan!"

William chuckled while walking joyfully outside, "Will do!"

Makol, however, wanted to make sure, "I mean it!"

William turned his head as if he rolled his eyes, "Sure... what a bother."

When he was gone, Makol sat alone in the bar, contemplating. It was a chance, a miracle he had wished for his whole life, 'Never mind. I need to organize everything.'

While he loved to celebrate and daydream, he had no time—much research needed to be done, and he needed to prepare for their talk in a week or so. The deal sounded terrific, but he wanted a lot, and to have it, he would need to prepare to show his worth and be as elusive as possible so as not to get caught in a trap.