Downtown Druid

Merle chuckled at his own joke, then grabbed a rag and began wiping the sweat from his oddly muscular frame. He stretched his neck left, then right, eliciting audible cracks each time that made Wane flinch. He stood and approached them.

“Let’s not waste any time. One of my people is almost certainly on their way to sell you out and tell the Kings that you’re here, ripe for the murdering.” He lifted the top part of his robe back up and over his torso, leaving the majority of his chest exposed. “So, what do you want? You’re a smart guy so I’m guessing it’s not protection, since you know I can’t offer that. Unless you’ve found some secret cache of magical items or you have some secret method to remove one of our collars? That would be about the only thing worth fighting the Kings.”

“No such luck,” said Dantes. “I just wanted a favor. Since I’ve always been friendly to you and yours.”

“Friendly eh? Swindling my people at dice, sending them to that kobold brewer to burn out their stomach lining, and occasionally beating them for taking too long to pay back a loan?” He laughed. “I suppose that’s as close to friendship as things get down here. Don’t beat around the bush, just tell me what you want and we’ll go from there.”

“I want to surrender to the Kings. I want you to tell them I’ll turn myself in to them willingly in return for a quick death.”

Merle’s expression turned from affable to disappointed. “Really? From what I’d been told about you, I thought you’d have more fight in you than that.”

Dantes shook his head. “Nope.”

“And this isn’t some elaborate plot or ruse?”

“No. I’m just tired of hiding.”

Merle looked at him for a long time, his face unreadable then he looked down letting out a long exhale of breath. “Fine. I’ll tell them what you’re offering. Come back in a day and we'll give you their answer.”

“I’d like them to do it in the undermarket as well. Let the Consortium drum up a bit of extra business out of a public execution. Maybe line your pockets for the privilege.”

Merlin’s face twinged a bit as he fought down a smile. “Well, at least you’re as dramatic as I’d heard… Fine, I’ll let them know all of your conditions… I’ll talk to the Consortium as well. Come back here in a day and I’ll have their answers.”

Dantes opened his mouth, but Merle held out his hand to stop him.

“Don’t worry about us selling you out. We can’t stand against the Kings in a straight up war, but all that you’ve asked is within our abilities and without much risk.”

Dantes just nodded.

Merle looked at them both, and pointed at the exit to his room. “Alright. Leave. I have squats to do.”

Dantes and Wane left the chamber, the last thing they heard from the room was a grunt and grinding of stone as Merle began hefting his massive weights.

Wane hesitated outside of Merle’s door. “Did you want to talk to Tel? I mean, if you’re going to die and all. Maybe play some dice?”

Dantes sighed. “I would, but I’d be surprised if Pillion or someone like him didn’t give the elves the heads up that I’m here. If I stay they’ll have the opportunity to kill me before they even hear the proposal, and I’d really prefer to be beheaded or stabbed quickly in the heart compared to whatever else they may do to me.”

Wane nodded and finished escorting him to the edge of the Collared’s cavern. “You uh… have anything you might want to leave to an old gambling buddy. Y’know, since you’re going to die anyway.”

Dantes smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know where my old digs are tomorrow if they take me up on my offer. You and Tel can raid it at your leisure. I just want a chance to enjoy it myself on what may be my last night here.”

Wane nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then?” He spoke the question as if unsure of what tone to take and landed somewhere between dour and awkward.

“Yep.” Dantes said, as he slipped into the dark of the cave. He felt strongly that the Kings would take him up on his offer. The fact that he’d managed to avoid them so far was likely embarrassing to them. A chance for them to show their ‘dominance’ over other races would let them reclaim their dignity and remind everyone that they were not to be fucked with.

Just in case though, he shifted his attention back to the rats he’d sent to their territory and the undermarket. Pausing in a dank dark corner so that he could place his focus thoroughly on them. The rats in their territory he had sent to search for the mirror shards he hadn’t stolen, and one of them had already located one of them. Those in the undermarket watched the elves there and over the course of an hour he used them to confirm which of the elves were leaders, and which were followers. It didn’t take much, as his own knowledge of their gang wasn’t insignificant, he just wanted to have absolute confirmation. Once he was done, he broke his connection with the rats, and let them go back about their business. Checking the ratmark, he noted that one tooth was still half full.

He made it back to his cave without much fuss, and Jacopo crawled out of his jacket to return to his usual corner. Dantes gave him the piece of meat he owed him, as well as a bit of extra, just because. He then gathered up the mirror fragments and layed all of them out in a straight line. He had eleven left. It should be enough. He was tempted to tuck a few away, to save them for later, but he didn’t want to risk not bringing enough firepower.

He had a small meal, then left to check again on his garden. The red leaves of the plants all looked lush and healthy, and somehow even more fruit had started to grow even after the recent harvest he’d allowed the rats. The plants were calling out softly for more blood. They didn’t need it, he could tell, but they wanted it. This time, he obliged them. He generously granted each plant not just one, but three drops of blood. Their leaves and branches visibly shuddered as the blood reached their roots.

Once that was done he went back to his cave. He dug out an old pipe, and smoked a bit of the weed he’d bought from Clay in the Undermarket before everything had gone to shit. He took two long inhales, letting out small clouds of smoke as he did so. He considered doing that small amount of dust he’d stolen as well, but decided that his only intent was to ease his nerves, not remove them entirely. Besides which, he didn’t want to fall back into that habit. Snorting it now would be admitting he didn’t expect to live past the next day.

He smoked a bit more, ate a bit more, then allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

…

He awoke the next day feeling more rested than he had in days. For once he’d had a dreamless sleep rather than a dream of gods, or familiar nightmares of weightlessness as he fell. He stretched, ate, packed his pipe for one more smoke, then watered all of his plants, and fed his fungus.

After that he went back to his garden. He blinked as he entered the chamber that contained it, rubbing his eyes and wondering for a moment if he’d slept far longer than he’d meant to, or perhaps if the weed he’d smoked had been stronger than he’d anticipated. All of the plants in the garden had grown exponentially. The grape vines covered the ground, the peach tree had a trunk as thick as his torso and rose to twice his height. Fruit, ripe and massive, had grown from every tree, all of it the same shade of blood red as their leaves were.

Dantes went to one of the smaller trees and plucked an apple from it. He took a bite. It was sweet, and firm. Far different from the crabapples he was used to, and unlike anything he’d tasted before. He continued eating the apple as he walked the length of the garden, handing its core to Jacopo as he finished it, and wiping a bit of excess juice from his chin with the sleeve of his jacket.

He reached out with his lifesense to all the rats he could possibly detect.

Come

The rats swarmed forward, out of every nook and cranny, one, maybe even two hundred of them. Once they’d all arrived they turned their attention to Dantes and waited.

“I have a request for all of you, but before we get to that.” He gestured to the plants all around the garden. “Eat.”

There was no hesitation after he spoke that word. The rats all ran up the trees, into the bushes, and through the vines. They plucked up grapes and tore into them, or bit peaches from trees, falling down with them before fighting other rats to keep from having to share. They even chewed their way through apples still on branches, leaving only the stem behind as they gnawed through everything they could.

As they ate Dantes watched one tooth on his rat mark fill completely, then the second one began trickling up as well. He smiled as he watched the rats and all the chaos they were creating in front of him. Once they were done, and every piece of fruit on the trees had been completely consumed, he pointed at the peach tree.

“That one is Jacopo’s.” He said, gesturing to Jacopo who’d taken his place on his shoulder. “He decides whether or not to share it. The rest of the fruit here, you are only welcome to after it has ripened beyond edibility for me, but after that it’s fair game.”

The rats listened intently, letting out small squeaks of agreement, or wiggling their whiskers.

“Now… on to my request.”