As the blaring horn sounded for nearly the hundredth time, Skrakch idly dragged his index claw across the tabletop in boredom. He scrunched his nose up at the black grime that accumulated on his nail from the simple movement.
At first, the entire Plagued Rat had gone on high alert as the Tomb-Maker’s battle horn sounded. There had been a cacophonous clatter as weapons and armor were readied, eyes searching for any signs of their beloved watering hole being breached. But, as the minutes passed and nothing happened, the pub’s regulars were just as quick to settle back down to their drinking and card games as though nothing had happened.
The more courageous of them had eventually poked their head out of the front door and returned muttering to themselves and shaking their heads. Unable to bear the waiting himself, Skrakch had done the same only to be greeted by the sight of empty streets devoid of both Dray’Mel’s citizens and the hulking Skeleton guards tasked with watching over the city.
Something was definitely afoot. The horn didn’t sound for no reason but, whatever it was, it hadn’t yet hit the Dray’Mel streets. By extension, that meant it hadn’t yet affected its citizens directly. That was enough for the regulars to stop actively caring. It also meant that the Ratling and his nefarious cohorts were about to settle in for a long wait.
Thankfully, the owner of the Plagued Rat had been more than happy to keep plying his patrons with the cheapest swill in the city. People tended to drink more when they were nervous and he was there to capitalize on it.
“Listen, mate, if it was a Crusade, I’d know about it,” Zacharias said conceitedly as he tossed peanuts into his mouth. “You really think one of those merchants from Cherstea would’ve been able to keep their fat gobs shut? Fat fucking chance Squeakers.”
Skrakch let out a heavy sigh as another peanut bounced off his furry shoulder. Apparently, the odious Halfling had yet to realize the loss of his eye had had a serious effect on his depth perception.
“And what the Hells else do you think would get the Tomb-Makers this riled up then? I’ve never heard this bloody racket before,” The Ratling countered, taking a swig of his tankard as his tail lashed from side to side in agitation. “The last time they sounded the alarm was because of a fucking Dragon. If those two brain cells you own could rub together to understand the written word, you’d see it clearly for yourself in The History Of Dray’Mel: Volume IV.”
Biting deep into her third meat pie in as many hours, Winifred groaned theatrically as gravy dribbled down her chin. “Yer both doing ma head in,” She groused. “That and that bloody horn, ma head’s about tae burst!”
Skrakch and Zacharis scoffed in unison before taking another deep swig of their drinks. Looking around slowly as the other patrons, the Halfling dropped his tankard to the table and a thoughtful look passed over his scarred face.
“Actually, I heard some of the Caravans coming into the city have gone missing,” He mused. “I can’t imagine the usual dross managing to stop quite so many of ‘em. Maybe it’s something more local?” He suggested with a nonchalant shrug. “Either way, it’s out of my wheelhouse,” He added as he propped his feet up on the table earning him a filthy look from Skrakch.
“Aye, and what wheelhouse would that be, Wee Man?” Winifred asked with mock innocence. “Whoring and drug peddling? I think the poor wee lasses of the streets should be thanking their lucky stars you’re nae on the prowl tonight.”
“That’s a bit rich coming from you, Winnie my dear,” Zacharias shot back. “I hear the Denmother’s Incubi have been missing you of late. Finally got tired of all your boy toys? Cos any time you wanna get with a real man, you know I’m more than happy to help,” He offered, flashing the former Pit Fighter his best supercilious grin, complete with a suggestive wink.
Skrakch rolled his eyes expressively, fully expecting some kind of snappy comeback from the Chosen. It was a surprise therefore when she remained silent but blushed violently.
“What’s it tae do with you what I do with my time?” She eventually rebutted sullenly, eyes pointedly ignoring Zacharias’ growing grin.
As the Halfling leaned forward, no doubt to continue his bizarre mixture of mocking and flirting, Skrakch loudly cleared his throat.
“Actually, I have something that needs doing,” He announced importantly as Zacharias’ made a horrible ‘kissy’ face at Winifred who pulled a hideous face back in response. “And it’s something that’s in both of your wheelhouses. With the Old Bones being distracted, I’m thinking now might be the perfect time to get it sorted.”
For a beat, both Winifred and Zacharias gave each other an appraising look before settling back to regard the Ratling with interest.
“You’ve been pretty damn twitchy for a while now Squeaks,” Zacharias replied, eyeing him up. “I figured you were just shit scared of the ruckus…we all know rats are skittish.”
Snarling slightly, Skrakch fought to keep the instant feeling of annoyance off his face.
“This is serious Zacharias,” He continued in an uppity tone. “The Denmother herself asked for my help. One of her girls is missing and she wants us to take care of it. Simple enough, even for your low intelligence, no?”
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Winifred let out a loud scoff as she leaned back in her chair, crackling her knuckles loudly and shaking her head.
“Yeah, too bloody simple Rat,” She said. “If it was just that, ye’d be handling it yerself tae get the most coin. So how about ye tell us where the catch is?” She added as she spat to the side, earning a look of disgust from the serving wench who had to dodge it.
“Well,” Skrakch hedged, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “The missing girl is a Succubi. And we know who’s taken her. It’s a Shade,”
“Aye, and the rest?” Winifred continued.
“Yeah, Old Squeaks is definitely holding out on us here,” Zacharias added with a nod. “So c’mon, spill.”
“Ok so the Shade is likely a Chosen and the only clue I got from the Denmother was in the form of a damnable riddle,” Skrakch finished in a rush before sitting back and bracing himself for the inevitable response.
“Yeah, you can sod right off with that one Squeakers,” Zacharias replied instantly, slamming his tankard against the tabletop and spilling its contents everywhere. “No way am I risking my neck going near one of them freaks. No offense, Winnie darling,” He paused for a moment. “Well, maybe a bit of offense.”
Zacharias’ answer wasn’t anything surprising, although he’d expected a few more choice curse words, but the pensive look on Winifred’s face was giving the Ratling some small amount of hope.
The Fighter tapped her chin thoughtfully before looking at Skrakch and seemingly regarding him in contemplation. “A Chosen Shade? I’ve seen how strong Chosen can be. If we were to say no…how in the Nine Hells did ye intend on handlin’ it alone?” She asked with genuine interest.
Deliriously happy at not being totally dismissed by her, Skrakch grinned.
“That’s just the thing, Winifred. It’s a Chosen Shade. The bloody thing is probably weak as piss. Plus, I happen to have gotten my claws on a decent amount of Placative Brew. Worst comes to worst, I just need to pour some down it's gullet,” He explained as flippantly as he could.
“Right, right,” Zacharias spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eye. “You’ve bloody lost it you have. Even you can’t be that bloody stupid! There’s no telling if some potion is gonna work on a Chosen Shade and that’s if you can even get close enough to poison it!”
Skrakch raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly cleaned one of his whiskers.
“And what would you know about potions? I’m pretty sure everything you know could be written on the back of a simple postage stamp,” He said derisively. “Hells, I bet you can’t even spell potions!” He added with a chuckle. “I’ll admit, this plan of mine isn’t perfect because the real plan is to get the two of you to help. With the three of us on board, we’ll easily handle the Chosen. Hells, with the Old Bones distracted we could bring Ornn wherever it is and really smack it about!”
“You’re a fucking idiot mate,” Zacharias shot back, quaffing his drink. “This is you chasing your equally fucking idiot dream of being Chosen again, isn't it. Ain’t no way Winnie and me are gonna-”
“I’ll do it,” Winifred interrupted with a decisive nod. “I’ve nae had a proper scrap since I became a Chosen. Maybe this Shade will put up a decent brawl. Cannae be lettin’ meself get rusty,” She continued as she got to her feet.
“Mental,” Zacharias muttered. “You’re both bloody mental. Winnie, you’ve been Chosen for what? Six months? And now you reckon you can take a proper Chosen? You’re having a fucking laugh. I saw fucking Fang’Mel and I ain’t going near that sort of monster. No fucking way!” He clamped his arms across his chest as if that settled it.
A grin spread across Skrakch’s face as he scrambled to his feet. Now that he had Winifred convinced, the Halfling would be easy.
“Don’t be a dolt Zacharias,” The Ratling said spitefully. “Not all of the Chosen are like Fang’Mel. The Denmother would have written her girl off if our mark was anything like that. Plus, you’re forgetting that if it’s too much for us, we bail. But surely even you can see with Winifred and Ornn on our side, it’s going to be a piece of piss,” He leaned down so that he was inches away from the Halfling’s scarred ear. “The Denmother is one of the richest people in Dray’Mel in both coin and connections. Don’t be a fool…”
Skrakch could see the Halfling’s expression change at the mention of power. Still, he wasn’t there yet. Just one more trick and the idiot would fall in line and he had Winifred’s impatience to thank for that.
The Fighter was cracking her knuckles and pulling out her knuckledusters, moving from foot to foot as she started to psych herself up. Her strong frame suddenly seemed like it was made of electricity and the mood was catching.
“So, do ye know where we find this Shade?” She asked with an excited grin.
Good, old reliable Winifred. She’d never back down from a fight. Skrakch gave Zacharias a cheeky grin as he turned on his heel and started to follow her toward the door. He didn’t even get to the count of three before he heard the Halfling’s resigned sigh.
“Fine. I’ll come with you on the bloody quest,” He muttered peevishly as he stood up. “But you ain’t getting away that easily. I’m gonna need more than the promise of some goods from your precious Denmother. I need your word that you'll help me in making more Dragon’s Blood, Skrakch. I’ve seen your potions, and I bet your mangy hide will be worth something at least.” The Rogue finished, holding out his hand towards the Ratling.
Without hesitation, Skrakch grabbed his hand and gave it a quick pump. “I’ll help you with the alchemy, but I’ll be damned if I help you peddle that shit.”
As the two shook hands, Winifred cleared her throat before dryly remarking.
“Aww now isn’t that cute you two wee men have patched things up? But ye do know that I’ll be the one doing most of the brawling. I could take the both of ye while blindfolded with one hand tied around me back!”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Zach replied as he patted himself down momentarily, pulling out a gold pouch to drop on the table. “Now where the Hells are we heading, Squeaks?”
“It ain’t a done deal, but I’m pretty sure I have an idea where the damned thing is. You’ll love it, Zacharias, it’ll be like heading home for you.” Skrakch finished with a chuckle, ignoring the two squabbling companions behind him as he confidently made his way through the Plagued Rat’s doorway.