Ingrid lowered her hood as slowly as she could, ensuring no sound came from the movement. She felt her chest; her heart had slowed but still pounded. This was the monster’s den. Even if Mort didn’t have any scouts up in the rafters, she knew they weren’t far off. Her concealed presence was top notch, but it didn’t hide sound.

But the true espionage was about to begin, and she needed to be exact in what was being said. She couldn’t afford mishearing a single word. These three were the spokesmen for the Feral group making waves in the Gloom. Heck, in the whole city if the rumors were true. Now that she was here, she would make the most of it.

Mort cleared his throat. “You know, it wasn’t easy. My men and I don’t like picking fights with the guards. Makes my other business ventures, mmm, messssy, so to say.” Mort’s snake-like tongue caused him to hiss. Ingrid recognized the tick. He was excited.

“And disposing of multiple guards might just be the fastest way to do that.” Mort then sighed, “some would say it deserves a bonus.”

The larger feral woman grunted. But the fox-tailed one answered him. “That part was always your jurisdiction. We could have easily handled that ourselves. Besides, we have given you plenty. If you think renegotiation is on the table, we’ll walk right here.”

Mort smirked. “It was only a suggestion. My men expect me to try. I’m sure you understand. Chief.” He lingered on that final word for a moment. “Though your sentiment may change soon.”

The cloaked woman’s tail twitched. “That wasn’t the request. Is it done?”

Mort recoiled, as if he was attacked. “Ma’am I’m offended. I am nothing if not honest.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket, presenting it to his guests. A scroll from what Ingrid could see, about the length of Mort’s forearm. At times like these she longed for enhanced eyes, but ears would have to be enough. Her only hope of what was in that scroll would be if it was read aloud.

The large woman walked over to Mort. She reached out to grab the scroll from him, but he pulled back right after.

“Hold your Horsen there Tiny. You have any idea how difficult this was to obtain. Me and my men are looking at a long and bumpy ride to Tiamantis if this gets out.” He turned to the cloaked woman. “I need assurances. Assurances that this never, and I mean ever, gets traced back to me.”

The feathered man shook his head. “The massive amount of resources and money we give not enough? And hate to break it to you, we need that now. Far too much is in motion right now, we don’t have time for your—” The fox tailed woman raised her hand, cutting off her feathered companion.

“My subordinate is not wrong, Mort. We do not have the luxury of time at the moment. But you know that already. So how do you suppose we give you these assurances?”

Mort flashed a grin at the woman. “So glad you asked. I need something from you. Something only your group can get to.”

“The ever so competent and capable Lord of the Gloom can’t do something. Shocking.” said the feathered man.

“Not when it’s knee deep in that horrific hellscape of a Forest you Ferals call home.” Mort walked closer to the fox tail. Ingrid strained her ears.

“One of my guys, the ones I pay far too much to snoop around outside of the city, found something. A big something. A game changing something that could potentially flip this entire city on its head. And it can benefit the both of us.”

“And you're willing to share this miraculous discovery with us. I don’t buy it.” The cloaked woman said.

Mort held the back of his hand to his forehead “Alas, as much as I loathe giving it away, I have no way of accessing it. My guy came back in literal pieces after he found it. The monsters surrounding these spoils are…” Mort trailed off.

“Are what?”

“Oh just having trouble coming up with a word to adequately describe them. I’d rather not use poor Rogere’s words. Far too many curses to say in front of a lady.” He tilted his head. “Maybe hellish.” He shook his head. “No, not nearly severe enough. No matter, the point is I can’t send anyone out there. The only ones capable of such a venture are much too expensive and make the whole trip pointless seeing as they wouldn’t be loyal to me but to our Green Lady.”

The cloaked woman’s tail bristled. “She is not my lady.”

Mort shrugged. “Of course.” He jostled the tightly wound scroll in his hand. “So do we have a deal?”

The large battle axe wielding woman stepped up next to her mistress, whispering in her ear. “Ma’am, I’m not sure we should have many more dealings with,” she turned over to Mort and squinted her eyes, “his kind. Surely, we can handle the rest on our own.”

“No we will listen, today will be hard enough. That info is crucial.” The cloaked woman whispered back, then turned back to Mort. “Yes, but I need to know what it is we’re going to be looking for out there.”

A wide grin blossomed on Mort’s face. “Ever heard of Inspiritus Gadenas?”

The three Ferals looked amongst themselves, questioning looks on their faces. Ingrid also wasn’t sure what he meant. She’d never heard the name. They turned back to Mort.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Shining blue flowers that, when ingested, give an unimaginable boost in strength. That coveted Energized buff. Surely you know of it.”

The feathered man clicked his tongue. “Ah shit. He means Energy Petals.”

The large woman scoffed. “The garbage that eats through your Aura for a brief, albeit huge boost. Why would you want that? Want an army of morphs?”

Mort chuckled. “No, but I want the flowers all the same.”

“But they only grow in small patches. What did your guy find some? Hate to break the news to you, and monsters eat up a whole patch within a week. The patch he found is probably gone by now,” said the feathered man as he waved his hand in the air.

Mort’s eyes lit up. “See that’s where you’re wrong my fine feathered associate. That was the presumed assumption. But he told me a different story. He said he stumbled upon an entire field of them out there. Even brought me a whole bouquet back, far more than a patch usually has. I can show—”

“Impossible, we’d know about such a place before your man ever got close. He’s spinning you tales.” He said cutting off the crime boss.

The cloaked woman raised her hand. “Let Mort speak.”

“But Ma’am, even if this mystical field of flowers exists it doesn’t change how dangerous they are, or addictive. Even one petal is enough to get you hooked. Think of the damage this bastard would cause to our people in the Gloom if he started peddling the stuff.”

Mort exhaled.

“You wound me. I’m not so stupid as to let that stuff run rampant through the city unregulated, not as is. But like you said before, it's rare. The only samples in the city are heavily guarded in the Labs under the Capitol Building. They normally destroy the stuff once they find it.”

“For good reason. We do the same back in the village. It's far too tempting to keep around.” The cloaked woman said.

“Yes, but that's because we don’t know enough about it. Its rarity makes it difficult to test adequately, not to mention the ethics behind such testing. But that flimsy reason never stops people like us, does it?” Mort leaned in. “Ms. Natural,” he whispered.

“I’ve already got an entire group of alchemists ready, though calling these Lab rejects that might be a bit generous. I just need the supplies. Hence where you come in.”

The cloaked woman raised her hand to her chin, then began pacing. The feathered man walked up to her, a panicked look on his face.

“You can’t honestly be considering this ma’am. Who do you think his test subjects would be? Ferals, the group nobody cares for. He’s still cityborn, no way he uses his own kind.”

“Please. I own half the shops on Main Street, I won’t lack willing test subjects. One whiff and I will have dozens if not hundreds of citizens begging for it. It will never come near your precious Ferals.”

The fox tailed woman kept silent for a minute, eventually turning back to Mort.

“No. Even if the field does exist, which is doubtful, what you’re offering isn’t nearly enough. I’d lose who knows how many men and women securing such a place. The monsters defending it would make the coming raid look like a child’s party. I’d lose too much and you’d only gain. That scroll in your hands would be helpful, but what you're asking for far exceeds its value.”

Mort clicked his tongue. “Yeah, figured you would see that. Fine, allow me to sweeten the pot. I’ve come into…an opportunity, one that will see my men entering and exiting the city far more often. A caravan of sorts, just less government eyes on its comings and goings. And that means.”

“You could get even more of my people into the city.”

“And help with your greater ideals for the future of Laurelhaven.”

The cloaked woman went back to her pacing.

Ingrid’s eyes widened. She never imagined how much she was going to catch today. She went into this thinking it was just a business deal, not whatever the hell this was. She could hardly believe what anyone beneath her was saying. Illegal alchemy testing, Feral smuggling, the seeds of a revolution even front he sounds of it. If anyone deserved a bonus in pay, it was her.

“Where is it?” The head of the feral group asked.

“Ma’am!” Both of the cloaked woman’s aides protested in unison.

Mort’s answer came in the form of him throwing the scroll at her. “That’s a discussion for another time, my dear. First take a look over those battle plans. My men went to great lengths for those.”

The woman unfurled the scroll, which happened to be a whole couple of sheets rolled together. Battle plans? What? Ingrid tried her damnedest to see what was in those plans, though she could only make out a few unintelligible shapes and lines. She flipped to the next, this page filled with text.

“Information on every squad in every Legion.” Mort said.

“Good, Let’s move.” She handed the papers over to the large woman. “We can discuss the other plans at the next meeting. We need to move. Now.”

Ingrid leaned further over the support.

Creak!

Ingrid shrunk against the rafter, then froze, shutting her eyes. Maybe they didn’t notice? She opened them back up, flinching when yellow ones stared back at her. The feathered man crouched down, his face in hers.

“Well, hello there.”

Ingrid jumped back in a panic, almost falling off her spot. Her legs glowed red as she prepared an attack. She reared back. The man braced himself. Then she let the blow loose, wood splintering everywhere. She kicked the roof just above her, creating a hole. Once she landed back on the rafter, her feet glowed blue as she readied her escape.

Yet before she could jump, something tugged on her clothes, pinning her cloak to the rafter. She looked back. Black feathers stuck her cloak to the wooden rafter like construction nails. She tore the cloak off in hopes to get free, but a swift blow to her side threw her from the ceiling, down into the main room.

Ingrid twisted midair, hoping to devise a plan before she hit the ground, but it was too quick. Before she knew it, she was caught and held down by the large Feral woman. She struggled for a moment, then gave up. There was no way she could do anything here.

Mort knelt before her, his eyes wide with surprise. “Ingrid. Couldn’t get enough of me?” He licked his lips slowly, his eyes darting across her body.

Ingrid just held her head down. Shame and frustration building up inside her, then finally fear, for she knew how Mort handled spies. Violently.

“Glenna. Let her up.”

“Ma’am?”

“Now Glenna. And Mort, back off.” The cloaked woman said, threatening Aura leaking from her the whole time.

Mort and the woman complied, allowing Ingrid to stand back up. Before Ingrid had a chance to understand what was happening, the feral woman lowered her hood and stared at Ingrid’s face. Then the woman’s arms wrapped around Ingrid, in a gentle, loving embrace.