Downtown Druid

Dantes placed a small pouch of weed, and a handful of blood-red grapes onto the raised stone in front of him that acted as a table.

Wane shook his head. “I’m out.”

Tel reached into his pocket and put a handful of copper coins down.

“Coin, eh? Where’d you get that?” asked Dantes.

“Did a favor for someone in the Consortium,” he said coyly.

“What kind of favor?” asked Wane with an eyebrow raised.

“The kind that paid me in copper coins,” responded Tel.

Dantes chuckled, Tel was getting more attuned to the Pit every day. At this rate he’d become a well known name, or dead, those were basically the only two ways it could go.

Pillion placed a small pouch of dust next to the other bets, it had clearly recently had a scoop taken out of it. It probably didn’t amount to the same value as the other bets, but Dantes decided not to say anything, and Tel followed his lead.

Pillion shook the dice, wincing as he did so. He was still having a bit of trouble from the beating he’d received, that was probably why the dust had so recently been used. Dantes took a moment to reflect on the fact that he may have set into motion a course of events that had turned someone to the same addiction that had tormented him when he himself had arrived in the Pit five years prior, and smiled. Pillion shouldn’t have been such an unrepentant asshole and it wouldn’t have happened.

Pillion rolled the dice out and cursed the moment that they went still. Dantes muttered one under his own breath too as Tel smiled widely and pulled everything toward himself.

“Fuck this. I won’t be rolling the dice just to lose my shit all afternoon.” said Pillion, collecting the dice and cup, and walking away muttering a colorful mix of elf, orc, and human slurs under his breath.

Wane sighed. “I may need to tell Merle about the dust he’s been doing. A bit here and there is no big deal, but when it makes someone like Pillion act like more of a dick…” There was a touch of genuine concern in his voice as he spoke.

Dantes ignored it. “You guys have any dice?”

They shook their heads.

“Guess we’re done then.” He moved to stand, then paused and looked at Wane. “Unless you’ve got any news from the orcs.”

Wane’s expression hardened. “No.”

Dantes sighed. “I didn’t know that you knew orcs at the party.”

Wane held up a hand. “I know that. I also know that the Changelings were defending themselves. And I know that if they’d continued the way things were going then they probably would’ve come for the Collared next.”

Dantes opened his mouth, but decided against saying anything. Some things needed time.

Tel didn’t have the same restraint though. “Then why are you so mad?”

Wane’s hands curled into fists. “Because they didn’t even get to fight. Dantes and the changelings took their lives, but didn’t do so in battle, and now they’re dead on their feet and forced to serve their enemy.”

“But you-”

Wane shot Tel a glare. “I know I criticized them before, and I’m aware I’m not being rational. That’s why I’m still gambling at the table with him, and still call him friend. That doesn’t mean it has to be easy.”

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Tel opened his mouth again, but Dantes put his hand up this time. “It’s fine Tel.” He nodded at Wane. “Good game, maybe I’ll get some dice from the Undermarket tomorrow so we don’t have to rely on Pillion.”

Wane nodded. “Sure, but you know I’ll be checking to be sure they aren’t weighted.”

Dantes smiled. “Of course.” He gave Wane and Tel a wave goodbye, and started to make his way back to his cave.

Wane would’ve told him if he actually had any information on what the Orcs had been up to since he and the changelings had taken a third of their forces. He’d been actively monitoring his tunnels with rats, and spying on them, but from what he’d seen they’d mostly been consolidating. They still had a larger force overall than the dwarves did after their massacre, and certainly more than the elves, so they were still a powerful gang in terms of numbers, but now that they’d made so many enemies so quickly, that arithmetic was starting to add up a bit differently. Two-thirds strength with good relations was fine, but when everyone was now wary or outright hateful toward them, and the third they’d lost had gone to a group they’d just antagonized, that was different.

Dantes reached out with his senses and detected a clump of moss next to him as he walked. He reached his hand out to it, and it shifted and moved as if trying to reach him. He focused and was able to make it form shapes and symbols as it reached out, or flattened itself, but the more complex he made it, the more drained he began to feel. It wasn’t like the rat or roach mark. It seemed to be based on his own physical stamina rather than any ‘favor’ he’d earned with plantlife. Unless there was a tattoo of a tree on his ass that he’d had yet to see. Still, it was getting easier with practice, and the garden he created reacted to his will with almost no effort at all, though it had begun causing him headaches of a different kind.

Its hunger for blood had grown slowly at first, but now he heard it screaming at him when he first woke, until he went to sleep, all sense of politesse gone from its requests. Not that he expected much of that from plants, but it certainly seemed more relaxed about it in the past. Even at that moment, he could feel its hunger at the edge of his awareness.

He sighed.

“You’re being followed,” said Jacopo as he walked. It took tremendous effort, but he didn’t react to the statement and just kept walking.

“Who? How do you know?”

“When your awareness fades from the rats you watch your back with, I take over. It’s the elves, the two that work as bodyguards for Grimald.”

Dantes resisted nodding. That made sense, Grimald was making his move, trying to figure out where he was getting the fruit, maybe having him killed in the process. He was certain the elves had no qualms about the arrangement either.

“How far away are they?”

“They’re a few chambers behind. Staying exactly that distance behind you.”

That was good, that meant that they were trying to determine the location of the fruit first, not kill him. That gave him more options, let him control where they went, and when they attacked. He reached out his awareness and began gathering rats and roaches in as large of numbers as he could. Before long, there were hundreds of them moving in concert with him and his followers.

Once they were in place he switched with Jacopo to observe the elves more closely.

“I’ve never heard vermin be this active before. Even in the deeper caves,” said the older of the two elves. He moved in almost complete silence, gracefully gliding through the maze-like caverns only a short way behind Dantes.

“Could mean the fruit’s nearby.” The younger one was squinting, as if reducing his sight would somehow let him hear Dantes’ footsteps better over the rising cacophony of scratching and chittering in the walls around them.

“It’s possible, but… that’s not the strangest part. Do you smell that?”

The younger of them sniffed and gagged. “I just smell roaches and rat shit.”

The older elf inhaled deeply. “Greenery… I could swear. It’s been so long… Closest I’ve gotten was smelling that one dwarf’s booth back in the Undermarket.”

“You’re smelling dwarves now? I think you may just be losing it.”

“It’s possible… I mean, it’s not like he’s growing the fruit here. He almost certainly just found some way to have it transported down here. Some way of passing messages…maybe he didn’t destroy all of our mirrors.”

“But what about-”

Dantes brought his attention back to himself. He didn’t need to hear their speculation, he knew exactly how he’d done it, after all. He started moving toward his cave, forming a plan. He could never win a straight up fight, the elves were too skilled, it didn’t take a trained fighter to see that. He could possibly drive them away with rats and roaches, or at least throw them off his trail, but that would just put off the problem rather than deal with, and the sooner the Consortium realized he couldn’t be fucked with, the sooner he could start negotiating with them for his escape. He also didn’t like how close they’d gotten to him, twice now. If it hadn’t been for Jacopo he may have been taken completely unaware.

He smiled as his plan solidified in his mind. If they wanted to find his source, he’d take them straight to it.

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