While a slumbering innkeeper snored from his spot upon the tavern’s dirty floor, two different groups of evildoers sat in the Crystal Goblet’s otherwise empty common room. The larger of the two groups consisted of two men, two women, and an imposing collection of rocks. At a nearby table, a nondescript man and an eye-catching woman shared one of the few wine bottles that had managed to survive Sylvia’s alcohol-fueled rampage the previous night.
“Why didn’t you kill him and break his fucking golem?” Keysha demanded while her stormy gray eyes flickered incredulously from Dalthan to Sylvia before finally settling on the [Golem] standing nearby.
“Shouldn’t we be having this conversation upstairs?” Dalthan bit back, his gaze pointedly shifting to the [Spy] and the [Illusionist] who’d descended from the second floor shortly after his arrival.
Melody and a man he assumed to be Sebastian had opted to take a seat at a nearby table despite the entire common room being available to them. The [Doppelganger] had traded in his Dalthan disguise for a lean, nondescript blond with tanned skin and baggy clothing that further blurred his eminently forgettable features. The entire image was a noticeable step down from the sophisticated look he’d cultivated yesterday. Though the man had been little more than a cheap imitation, he’d still benefited from Dalthan’s undeniable style. Now the [Spy] looked woefully out of place seated next to the captivating [Siren].
While the two evildoers half-heartedly played a few hands of some local card game, they were visibly eavesdropping without the basic decency to pretend to be minding their own business. To be fair, Dalthan would be shamelessly listening in if the proverbial shoe were on the other foot. However, he would be politely circumspect about it. These two, despite being a [Spy] and an [Illusionist], were about as subtle as Polly’s ad campaign.
It offended him on some deep, criminal level. There were rules regarding these things. Protocol. This was the kind of behavior that he’d expect from a self-absorbed tool like Zaplixel.
The whiny wizard chose that moment to fill the air with his nasal voice. “There’s no reason to keep secrets from one another. We’re all here on Lord Balerik’s behalf, right?” The [Swindler] ignored Sylvia’s shocked expression, instead choosing to continue in a light, airy tone while he absently rubbed at the smooth knuckle where Dal had relieved him of a finger. “Keysha and I had a nice long chat with Sebastian and Melody. After talking things over with Drowsy, they promised to lend a hand so long as our goals are aligned.”
For the hundredth time since their last quest together, Dal wondered why he’d stopped himself from taking more than one bony finger. Surely he should have helped himself to one of the asshole’s beady little eyes. Or he could have cut out Zap’s black, treacherous heart.
Instead, he’d shown a certain brand of mercy and cursed himself, and the multiverse at large, with Zaplixel’s continued existence.
Before he lost his temper, the [Rogue] took a deep breath to quell the sudden surge of anger that threatened to spill from his lips like magma erupting from the caldera of an active volcano.
“I…” The thief had to abort his statement, silently clenching a fist as he closed his eyes to avoid the sight of Zaplixel smirking at him from across the table. When his green eyes opened again, his gaze was directed toward a stone-faced Keysha.
“Do you think, perhaps, it would have been a good idea to talk to the rest of us before you decided to adopt a team of gods damned mind fuckers?” Despite his attempt at remaining calm, his last words were positively dripping with enough venom to make the air sizzle when he spoke.
Sylvia’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips said exactly how she felt about this new arrangement without the beautiful nymph ever opening her mouth. Keysha didn’t look particularly pleased either, though her ire appeared to be squarely focused on Dalthan. Her black leather armor creaked warningly when she leaned across the table to point one slender finger at his face as if she intended to drive it into one of his emerald eyes.
“What? We can’t make our own decisions?” The archer’s voice was quiet, but it held the undeniable tension of a drawn bowstring. “Our team did just fine before you and the tree hugger came along. We don’t need to ask your fucking permission to do anything.”
“More’s the pity,” Sylvia said, her prickly tone reminding Dal of the sharp briars covering a blackberry bush. “If it were up to me, I’d have never permitted you to walk around with that stick shoved up your ass all the time. I’ve met sober priests that were less prudish than you are.”
Dalthan blinked in genuine surprise. “You’ve met a sober priest?”
Sylvia idly replied, “It isn’t hard. It takes them a surprisingly long time to roll out of bed and get dressed. More than enough time to catch them before they can get their hands on a bottle.”
Zaplixel’s amused snort turned into a choking cough when Keysha’s scowl slowly shifted in his direction. The bald [Swindler]’s pasty complexion grew even more pale than usual as the [Sharpshooter] narrowed her eyes like a prowling cat catching sight of a dim-witted mouse. Zap knew exactly what that look meant, and so did everyone else at the table.
It physically pained Dalthan to spare Zap from Key’s viscous tongue-lashing, but there were more important matters at stake than quality entertainment.
“For now, let’s put aside the issue of working with the local mind fuckers.” Dalthan waved distractedly in Melody and Sebastian’s direction while he spoke. The two spies visibly perked up and returned his wave with a pleasant one of their own. It was obvious from their expressions that they thought they were finally going to be invited to join in the discussion.
Instead of motioning for the spies to join him, Dal flipped his wrist and offered the duo his extended middle finger.
Feeling Keysha’s attention shift toward Dalthan, Zap breathed a sigh of relief while the other team awkwardly returned to their card game. The two spies never spoke a word, but if looks could kill the [Rogue] would have been murdered a dozen times over from the glares the [Siren] and the [Doppleganger] sent his way.
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“You asked why we didn’t kill the guy,” Dal said, his attention focused on Keysha. “What were we supposed to do? I know you haven’t been sightseeing yet but take my word for it when I say this town isn’t that big. If a local merchant suddenly goes missing, people are going to start asking questions. How long do you think it will take those questions to lead back to us?”
The [Sharpshooter] pursed her lips and pointed imperiously toward the snoring innkeeper. “He’s been missing for days now, and no one has come poking around looking for him.”
Dal huffed, reluctantly conceding her point with a nod of his head that caused the ostentatious feather in his hat to wave like the flag of a surrendering army. “That’s because there is a constant degree of casual mind rape going on thanks to Drowsy and Melody. I haven’t given it much thought because, where I come from, this would be the equivalent of a war crime.”
Keysha simply blinked at him as if he’d somehow failed to notice the minotaur roaming around with a herd of cattle.
Zaplixel was less circumspect. The bald man had pulled a silver bracelet from a pocket of his robes to study it with a critical eye. At Dalthan’s words, those pale blue eyes shifted away from his trinket to regard the rogue with a disdainful look. “Usually, your little lizard brain manages to keep up better than this, Dalthan. We already told you that we had a very productive conversation with Sebastian’s team. Among other things, they have offered to lend their expertise in covert operations if we should ever need it. This new quest certainly seems to qualify.”
Sylvia’s chair creaked wearily as the voluptuous nymph leaned backward to skeptically study the [Swindler]. “What else did you all discuss while we were out? Anything we should know?”
“An excellent question,” Dalthan seconded, his emerald eyes narrowing at Zap’s sneer of superiority. “Maybe Sylvia and I have some opinions that we need to share.”
Zaplixel haughtily stared down his hooked nose at the [Rogue]. A cocky smile twisted the wizard’s lips as he began to speak, only to abruptly choke on his words when a muffled thump that sounded suspiciously like a boot meeting someone’s shin rose from beneath the table. The old man hissed in pain as he ducked his head, pointedly refusing to meet Keysha’s eyes.
“Nothing,” Zap muttered, his attention returning to the inspection of the silver bracelet clutched in his hand. “We didn’t talk about anything that you two should be worried about.”
Now it was Dalthan’s turn to lean back. The thief shared a look with Sylvia while the nymph bit her lip. He was glad to see that she found Zaplixel’s response as suspicious as he did.
“Well, that’s totally believable,” the [Rogue] drawled. His green eyes drifted from Zap to Keysha. He met the [Sharpshooter]’s unflinching gaze for a long moment before continuing in a conversational tone. “It’s nice to see that all our time together has taught us not to keep secrets from each other.”
Keysha rolled her eyes. “You’ve been a con artist for so long that you expect everyone else to lie the way you do. You shouldn’t worry so much about missing teatime with Melody and her crew. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for socializing later. Right now, we should focus on how we’re going to get this stone for Shale, don’t you think?”
For the first time, Sebastian spoke up in his new disguise. “I think we can lend a hand with that.” The man’s voice was an unremarkable tenor that would have gone completely unnoticed in a crowd. “Melody and I can establish a perimeter around the Mercantile. We can keep a look out for any thri-kreen patrolling the area and subtly guide anyone else away, so you have a window of opportunity to complete your quest.”
“And by ‘finish your quest,’” Dalthan said leadingly as he looked past Zaplixel’s shoulder toward Melody and Sebastian.
“He means to kill the old shopkeeper and steal whatever it is you need from his store.” The [Siren]’s answer was strangely hypnotic despite her obvious impatience with the conversation. “Really, this isn’t that complicated. Just don’t leave a bloody trail leading back here and you should be fine.”
“Okay. Let me lay this out in simple terms so that everyone can understand.” Dal’s voice cut through the air like a cold razor. “I’m not killing this guy before we leave with the caravan. One wrong move and we’ll have blown up the entire mission. A mission that was handpicked for me, I might add. I’m not jeopardizing that because you assholes think that the word ‘solution’ is spelled m-u-r-d-e-r.”
Keysha viciously stabbed the table between them with her index finger. “Then give me a different plan, Dalthan. You’re quick to shoot down the easy options but I haven’t heard you offer any alternatives. The way you talk, skipping the quest entirely is your alternative. If that’s the case, then I’m here to tell you, your proposal is unacceptable. We’re not going to deny Shale his quest reward just because you’re having an inexplicable bout of squeamishness. Man the fuck up and do the job.”
For its part, the [Stone Golem] in question continued to silently stand to one side of the saloon doors. If it had any opinions about the proceedings, it chose not to share them.
Dal’s eyes drifted toward the pile of animated rocks while his brow knit in consternation. When he finally spoke, the [Rogue]’s voice grew stronger and more confident with every syllable that fell from his lips. “We’ll bring him back here. Melody and Sebastian can establish a perimeter to make sure we’re not interrupted when we meet him on his way back to the Mercantile. Once we get back to the Goblet, Drowsy can knock him out as he did the innkeeper. Then it’s just a matter of breaking into the Mercantile and taking what we need while he’s lost in dreamland.”
The thief’s eyes shifted around the group of evildoers, gauging each of their reactions as he continued. “He’ll be out of our way. But not permanently out of the way. If someone sounds the alarm before the caravan leaves, we can wake him up and send him back to his shop with the world’s worst hangover. Not only does it save us having to do the wet work, but it also neatly gives us an alibi for the night of the break-in.”
Keysha drummed her fingers against the tabletop while she slowly digested the rogue’s scheme. “That sounds nice, but how are you going to convince him to come back to the Goblet?”
With a kind of showmanship that would have made a street magician proud, Dalthan waved toward Shale as if he’d just conjured the golem out of thin air. “Murray was fascinated by Shale. All I’ve got to do is promise him that they’ll spend some quality time together and he’ll be ready to race me back to the Goblet.”
For the first time, Shale shifted in what might be considered discomfort. If rocks could feel anxious, that is.
“Don’t worry, Shale,” Dalthan reassured the golem with a lopsided smile. “Drowsy will make sure the prick is passed out before he ever walks through the door. We’ll tuck him somewhere out of the way and then fetch your stone. By dawn, I’ll have taught you a dozen songs famous up and down the docks of Low Town.”
The golem remained silent, but the [Sharpshooter] did not.
“You better hope this works, Dal,” Keysha said with a switchblade smile written across her thin lips. “Because if it doesn’t, I’m going to explain to this merchant exactly why I felt the need to kill him slowly. Thanking you for the last miserable minutes of his existence will be the last thing he does.”