She was a bloody fool for going through with this plan.
Hells, she’d said as much earlier. Multiple times if she recalled correctly. But, as he often did, Zacharias had somehow convinced her. Or, more accurately, the allure of a lifetime’s supply of Dragon’s Blood had convinced her. She didn’t really earn that much coin from the various pies she had her fingers in and Gods Below knew fighting in the pits wasn’t exactly lucrative, so the idea of never having to pay for her rather expensive indulgence again was definitely a positive one.
Gingerly following behind the Ratling as he scouted a path through the empty streets, Winifred could feel the latest dose of the concoction pumping through her veins. The stuff was a bloody revelation even after all this time of taking it. It made her feel pretty damn amazing, stronger and faster, and goddamn invincible. The urge to just let loose and charge ahead was almost overwhelmingly strong. She felt as though she could take on anyone and do anything.
Of course, that was just one of the many side effects. Dragon’s Blood was Dray’Mel’s drug of choice for that very reason. Half of the seedy underbelly of the Slums was addicted to the stuff, desperate to feel anything but despair for once. Even a destitute's life would feel wonderful under its spell. Grimacing, she tried not to put herself in that category. She wasn’t rich but she wasn’t really poor either, making enough to keep her drunk on ale, feasting on meat pies, and a warm roof over her head. It was easy for her to consider herself a cut above the losers who used it just for its cheap high and not to maximize its full effects on the body.
She’d gotten swayed into trying the Elixir after a particularly brutal loss early on in her pit fighting career. Zacharias had approached her and said he had just the thing to keep it from happening again. She hadn’t been surprised when he’d produced a vial of the thick red liquid. Most of the other fighters used it, so she’d figured, why not level the playing field?
With a connection to a supplier, it was easy enough to obtain and honestly, it didn’t taste that bad. One dose of it and she was hooked on the feeling of power and the way it made her body feel. Naturally, that meant that she found herself needing more and more to obtain that unbeatable ‘powerhouse’ feeling.
As the young brawler watched a Zombie shuffle around blindly, she was reminded of why -exactly- she shouldn’t have taken any. Many fools had chased the Dragon to a painful death. But still, she could still remember that first time. The sheer bliss of it. It had been like nothing she’d ever felt before. All her life she’d been told to act the lady, simper, and giggle and flutter her eyelashes, waiting for the knight on the white horse to take her away and show her a life of luxury where all she needed to worry about was what dress to wear to the latest ball.
She snorted quietly, shaking her head. She wasn’t that type of woman. She hungered for power, for adventure, and chasing the Dragon gave her that power. She knew that her addiction would have brought shame to Blackmaul but he wasn’t around, was he? What good was her dwarven mentor to her now that he’d gone to the Butchery?
Stumbling abruptly into Skrakch, the bloody vermin had the gall to shoot her a glare. Still, as they peered around the hollow shell of a building, she could see why they’d stopped. A pack of Ghouls was in the middle of eating one of their own up ahead. Five of them seemed to be fighting over what little flesh still remained on the prone Ghoul's torso, while four others had moved away with its now separated limbs.
Ghouls were simple creatures. Their single-minded desire was for meat, and they certainly didn’t care where that meat came from. This meant that most of the Ghouls in the Undead District had a nasty habit of turning on their fellows when other sources ran dry.
It usually took the emergence of an Alpha for them to actually unite and seek living flesh. Alphas were few and far between these days. The Tomb-Makers were quick to put down anything that even resembled an Alpha, thankfully. She just hoped none of the eagle-eyed archers up in the city walls noticed their merry band of misfits.
Still, even on their own, a Ghoul could prove a real threat. All it took was one slip up, and their thick paralyzing tongue could render a man immobile in seconds. Then came the claws, shredding your insides to bits as they crammed their fill down their rotting gullets.
‘Course, she wasn’t worried. The brunette brawler cracked her knuckles and kept her eyes on the lanky Ghoul’s figures. She’d long moved past the fear that came from a scrap. Hells, she almost welcomed the chance to gamble it all...
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Unaware of her reckless thoughts, and sidling up beside her and Skrakch, Zacharias nodded in the Undead’s direction. “The building we’re looking for is a few blocks past them. Any ideas for how to get past them quietly?”
“Aren’t you usually the one with the great ideas?” Skrakch replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at the Halfling and continued. The relationship between the wee man and the rat was a strange one, to say the least. Most of the time the two acted like they couldn’t stand each other but, put them on a job together, and they complemented each other perfectly. “There are two options I can think of,” Skrakch continued. “They’re spread out enough that we could take them out and hope nothing more dangerous in the area doesn't notice before we put them all down…or, even better I think, we could hogtie you and toss you out there. I reckon that’d be a good distraction,” the glib Ratling added with an evil grin.
“Yer off ye wee head Rattie,” Winifred piped up, ignoring the banter between the two. She didn’t really understand why they continued working together when they clearly hated each other but she didn’t much care to pursue it. “They’re nae spread out. Most of them are clumped together there,” She pointed in the direction of the feasting Ghouls. “I’d say our best bet is hitting them all at once.”
“I’m going with what Winnie says,” Zacharias said after surveying the scene once more. “I’ll trust a tactically minded pit fighter over a scared shitless vermin any day.” The ginger rogue smirked smugly in Skrakch’s direction.
“Orrn and I can bash through the clumped ones nae bother,” Winifred continued. “You wee dainty types can handle the stragglers I’m sure.”
Nodding sharply, Skrakch leaned over and grabbed a pair of daggers from Zacharias’ waist. “On it, try not to make too much noise. The last thing we need right now is to bring the whole Undead District down on us.” The brown Iskrin said, picking his way through the uneven streets and ignoring Zach’s whispered curses at having some of his weapons stolen.
Winking at Winifred, Zacharias moved off to follow Skrakch. A dark mist appeared to pour out from his body, swirling around him and enveloping him like a thick veil. Winifred watched him as he left. Once upon a time, she’d been jealous of that particular trick of his. But, as she reassured herself, she was a simple woman and much preferred to spend her Mana on the more physical aspects.
Giving the two of them time to get into position, Winifred pondered the best way to get it done. Really though, the simple approach would work, so all she needed to do was convince the Goblin to send his stone guardian away from himself. She hadn’t had much to do with Meekknuckle before now. He was more of Skrakch’s minion, though even he seemed to treat the Goblin badly.
Cracking her knuckles once more, Winifred turned to stare at Meekknuckle as he tried to hide behind Ornn’s thick stone legs.
“Listen, you wee shite. You’re gonna send that pet of yours in there, and you’re gonna follow close behind. If those wee Ghoulies bite me, the first thing you do is heal me. Is that nae clear?” Winifred demanded, calloused hands clapping down on the skinny Goblin’s shoulders, making him jump. He nodded his head furiously.
“Me understand! Ornn go fight, and Meekknuckle supervise. Meek good at supervise.” The Goblin states, clearly trying to pep himself up. “We smash them. Real quick. Very quiet. If Scary Lady get hurt, Meek heal!”
Nodding to the daft wretch, Winifred watched the stone Golem start to lumber forward, stepping into its shadow as she trailed after it. There was no way she was going in first, not with such a convenient wrecking ball at hand.
They managed to close the gap to fifty paces before the first Ghoul noticed the charging warriors. Tossing aside the ravaged meat in its clawed hands, it let out a snarl alerting the others, before rushing forward to attack.
Throwing itself at Ornn without a single shred of hesitancy, the beast flailed and bit with all its strength. Still, the massive Golem was built with battle in mind and while it staggered from the force of the blows, its sturdy exterior shrugged off the ghouls' frenzied attacks. Of course, bites weren’t going to affect his stone form but the daft beasties still tried anyway.
Stepping around Ornn’s back, Winifred let out a feral snarl of her own, channeling her Mana into her arms before smashing downwards with her fists. Cleaving through one of the rotten thing's head with her enhanced strength, she danced back behind Ornn as the rest of the ghouls reached them.
Thankfully, the Undead weren’t smart enough to try and get around the massive pile of rubble shaped like a man, so it was just a matter of taking her time to spot an opening and… Winifred darted forward, grabbing a Ghoul and tossing it back into a sprawling heap.
Throwing herself atop of it, she started raining down blows on its defenseless face, pulverizing it into the cobblestone. It still tossed out the occasional swipe, but the pummeling kept it disoriented until its face caved in with a squelch, and it finally went still.
A quick glance around the battlefield showed that the fight was well in hand, the vermin and Zach handling the outliers. All she needed to do was help Ornn with his Ghouls, and they were well on their way to getting the Dragon’s Blood.
Watching the mindless things dogpile the Golem, she couldn’t help but smile. She may be a fool, but she intended to be a rich one.