“Where’s Zach?” Skrakch demanded as he burst into Winifred’s apartment the next morning, Meek following close behind.

“Gods Above knows,” Winifred replied mildly. She didn’t look up from the pot of tea that she was currently brewing. “The wee man was acting a bit weird last night, don't ye think?”

“My point exactly,” Skrakch replied. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard the news this morning?” He added. Winifred shook her head. “The Count was found murdered in his bed,” the Ratling continued grimly. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“What are ye trying to imply Rat?” Winifred asked, facing him. She narrowed her eyes. “Ye think I’d be willin’ to jeopardize our plan like that?”

“Well, we all know someone who would be stupid enough to do it,” Skrakch replied. “And don’t you think it’s a bit funny that he’s done a disappearing act this morning?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Zach’s really done a number on us. There’s no way Kuosh is going to be able to offload the Ruby! Not when there’s been a murder. Kuosh is a good friend but if there’s a chance he’s going to be sent to The Butchery for murder, he won’t hesitate to lead it back to us and I don’t blame him.”

Winifred let out a curse. It had just been a stupid prank to get Zacharias back for goading her all night. She’d made the fake room service call, knowing that Zacharias would go up there thinking that she needed some kind of backup. It would’ve been a laugh to hear how he’d dealt with the sloppy drunken Count. But this...well…she sure as shite hadn’t expected it.

“Aye well,” She replied. “So long as it doesn’t link back to us, it’s no skin off my back.” She shrugged casually, hoping not to betray the worry she was beginning to feel.

“He’s a loose cannon Winnie,” Skrakch warned. “Ever since that whole thing with Sykes. And I don’t like it.” Skrakch folded his arms across his chest, as his tail whipped viciously side to side..

“I reckon you’re makin’ a mountain out of a molehill,” Winifred continued. “Why don’t ye save your accusations until we know the full story? The Count had any number of weapons in that room of his. If Zacharias did off him and I’m not sayin’ he did, it would’ve been out of self-defense. But let’s face it, anyone in that place could’ve been after The Count since he won the Ruby and all.”

“Meek think that too,” Meek piped up. The diminutive Goblin had hauled himself up onto Winifred’s table, and was idly playing with her salt shaker. “If bad man attack Angry Man, then Angry Man have to kill or die.” He added with a sage nod.

“The plan was always to lay low after the auction anyways,” Winifred shrugged, pleased at the unexpected backup on her point. “If anything, this is gonna take the heat off the fact that the Artifact’s gone. Give it a few weeks, there’s gonna be the next big news and nobody’s going to care,”

“Oh yeah, because rich nobles die all the time,” Skrakch said acidly. He wasn’t convinced but, he thought to himself, it didn’t seem that Winifred or even Meek were willing to agree with his Zach theory. His trust in the Halfling had always been shaky but he was certain that he was right about him.

Still, it wouldn’t do to keep rocking the boat. If they were going to offload the Ruby eventually, they’d need to work together. Plus, Skrakch needed to keep on Winifred’s good side if he was going to glean some information from her about becoming a Chosen.

“Fine,” Skrakch said eventually, basically biting off the end of the word. “I’m going to see Kuosh about some breakfast and then I’ve got some things to do anyway. We’ll keep the Ruby stored here. You out of all of us will be the best person to protect it,” He didn’t add ‘from any further fuck ups’ but he was mightily tempted to.

----------------------------------------

Pulling himself up out of Winifred’s below-ground residence, Skrakch took a moment to take stock of what was around him. While it didn’t appear that he and Meek had been followed, it never hurt to keep an eye open.

Not that anyone would be following him, he admitted to himself with a hint of bitterness. The biggest heist of his life and all he’d done was sit in a pile of hay while Winifred and Zacharias got to do all the heavy lifting. As nice as the eventual payday was going to be, it was little to ease the frustration of a missed opportunity of becoming Chosen.

In fact, he’d probably done about as much as Ornn had, which was a big fat nothing. The giant stone Golem was currently sitting in a small nook of the alleyway. He loomed over the grumbling Ratling just like the pile of boulders always did, looking none the worse for wear with his new arms and chest plate. Still, Skrakch mused, he’d gotten so used to the stone behemoth that he rarely paid the thing any mind.

So preoccupied with his thoughts, the Ratling didn’t even notice as Meekknuckle rolled out of the ground beneath him. Covered in filth and bits of hay, the Goblin happily got Skrakch’s attention by smacking his lips loudly.

Turning an irritated eye behind him, Skrakch let out a deep sigh.

“Good job today Meek, I know you don’t have much of an understanding of gold, but I’ll make sure that you get a barrel of damned cheese once we get paid.”

“Meek like that,” Meekknuckle exclaimed. He did a little leap in the air and clicked his heels together. “Happy to help friend anytime. Meek most useful Goblin in village!” The scrappy creature grinned and puffed out his chest. “Meek very hungry now, maybe Meek come with Rat to get food?”

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Skrakch let out another sigh. He didn’t suppose it would hurt. He began to lead the way to Kuosh’s food stall. Meek and Ornn fell into step behind him. They were an odd threesome as they walked through the cluttered streets. Skrakch dodged the piles of trash with ease and neatly side-stepped puddles of various dodgy-looking liquids. Ornn walked through it all with impunity as did Meek who, as Skrakch knew, was used to that sort of filth.

As they walked along, Skrakch was careful to keep an eye on all the dark corners of the various alleyways they passed. The Slums weren’t exactly known for being safe but the side alleys? They were something else entirely. The last thing he needed was to be smashed over the head by some over-eager thief. He’d learned that the hard way when he’d first arrived. Hopefully, Ornn’s menacing presence would be enough to keep any would-be mugger at bay.

“So Meek,” Skrakch said with as much interest as he could feign. “What’s next for you?” Every so often, he had to remind himself to try and converse with the Goblin. After all, the little creature had saved their hides. “The rest of us will be laying low for a while until the heat around the job cools off. We shouldn’t need you or Ornn. Gods Below, I’m not sure what I’ll be doing myself,” He added. He paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I should take a trip to the library. It’s been a while, I always say, you can’t do too much research on the Chosen…” He mused, more to himself than Meek.

“Rat feeling OK?” Meek asked with a frown. He titled his head to the side. “Rat forget what happen tomorrow? Father need all Goblins for Tribute. He ask Meek to bring you too. Why else you think Meek stay in City after job?”

“Hells!” The Ratling cursed emphatically. “You damnable wretch, you didn’t tell me that!” He growled at the Goblin, his fur beginning to stand on end. “There’s no way in Nine Hells I’m going down there. Master’s always dealt with the Tribute on his own. Why would he need my help this time?”

“Because other Rat say you need be there,” Meekknuckle shrugged. “Maybe Meek forget to tell you about that. Is Ok. You come down anyways. Or Father come find you,” He nodded as though that settled the matter. “Now where this food? Me hungry!”

“Hold on a second,” Skrakch grabbed hold of Meek’s shoulder. “Other Rat? Which other Ratling is this?”

“Father didn’t say,” Meek shrugged. “He just say other Rat say you need to be there,” Meek lifted up his head and took a deep inhale. “Me smell something good!”

As Meekknuckle suddenly marched off in the direction his nose was leading him, Skrakch was left to ponder what the diminutive Goblin had just said. He was well-versed with the Goblin Tribute and the various rituals that accompanied it, but never before had there been a mention of another "Rat" joining in with the ‘festivities’.

What did it mean? Skrakch suddenly felt torn. A part of him wanted to shrug the whole thing off, his gut telling him that he was a lot better off staying out of the whole thing. But his curious side was piqued. There was a horrible sinking feeling deep inside of him that he couldn’t quite put his paw on. It wouldn’t just be any Iskrin involved in Blazock’s Tribute…what would be the point in that? No. It would be an Iskrin of power and importance. And that meant…

Scratch shuddered. It really wasn’t worth thinking about.

Rounding the corner, Skrakch felt relieved to see Kuosh’s familiar food stall. Meek was already jumping about in one of the seats, eagerly leaning forward to try and see what the Grif was cooking up. Ornn was by his side, watching over the stall like a mindless bouncer.

Skrakch miserably slid onto one of the wooden seats. His nostrils were filled with delicious exotic flavors but he couldn’t get excited about them.

“Sounds like you’ll have a full day tomorrow!” Kuosh said cheerfully as he slide a glass of water over to him. “This little one here was talking about some tribute you have to go to.”

“Oh yes. It’ll be a barrel of laughs,” Skrakch replied sarcastically with a sigh. Kuosh raised an eyebrow before pouring out a bowlful of stew and putting it down alongside the crusty end of a loaf in front of Meek. The Goblin dove in immediately, ravaging the bread as though he hadn’t eaten for a month. Skrakch wrinkled his nose at the disgusting slurping and chewing sounds the creature made as he devoured his meal.

Kuosh took another dish off the heat and wiped his massive hands on a stained piece of cloth before slinging it over his shoulder and leaning against the counter.

“Something tells me this isn’t some kind of party,” He said with the manner of a bartender who was willing to listen to a patron’s tale of woe. It would’ve made Skrakch smile had it not been for his depressing thoughts.

“Definitely not,” He replied darkly. “The Tribute is part of an old agreement between the remnants of the Dray’Mel Goblin tribe and the denizens of The Depths,” He let out an involuntary shudder at the mention.

Just thinking about The Depths was enough to push his anxiety and fear into overdrive. Flashes of his early years skittered around his mind like venomous spiders, threatening to infect his brain.

While the Sewers directly below the city were home to the Goblins, it was the Depths below them where the Iskrin dwelled. Very few of the living creatures in Dray’Mel had any real knowledge of the Iskrin race other than seeing them as mere servants or vermin. The creatures liked it that way, preferring to have as little contact with the people of Dray’Mel as possible.

“I remember you tellin' me about that,” Kuosh said with a nod. “Something about reparations?” The Griff asked.

“Yep, the Tribute is the Goblin way of paying them back… only the Iskrin never come to the Sewers… they just know Blazock will get it done. And yet now I find out they want me there,” Skrakch replied miserably. “That another Iskrin wants me there.”

“Hmm…” Kuosh hummed as he took the news in. “And you’re going?’

“I don’t have any choice,” Skrakch shrugged. He nodded in the direction of Meekknuckle who was, by now, covered with stew and breadcrumbs. “His Father will make sure of that,”

Normally Skrakch was perfectly happy to be left in the dark so far as the Tribute was concerned. He knew when it was and roughly what happened but that was all the involvement he’d ever needed. He was more than happy to pretend he had nothing to do with the others of his kind. Hells, just the sight of another Ratling was enough to put him on edge. But actually having to interact with them? After all this time?

The morose Ratling stared into his clear glass of water, barely noticing as Meek happily accepted a second bowl of stew from the hulking Griff. He was lost in his own thoughts, remembering a long-ago nightmare that he used to have.

Of a pair of malevolent red orbs blazing menacingly in the darkness…