Downtown Druid

Two dwarves dragged Dantes through their halls, and out to the entrance of their territory by the maw, then tossed him out. He was battered, bruised, and his plan was in tatters. He made a fist, feeling the sand at the entrance to the pit slide through his fingers. It was familiar, the only difference between being thrown into the maw this time and the last time, was that this time didn’t also come with the sting of betrayal.

He stood and looked around. A few scrawny looking dwarves, untouchables he’d guess, were already beginning to look at him and size him up. If he stayed there long enough they’d develop enough of a spine to make a move on him. He drew his hood up to hide his face and started stumbling toward the nearest tunnel that he remembered would lead him back to his cave.

“Jacopo, are you alright?” He asked quietly.

Jacopo didn’t respond.

Dantes could feel the rat’s pain, and his lifeforce slowly flowing out of him like a slow breeze. He began making his way to the same tunnel in which he’d stolen the supply drop with a quick blow from a sturdy rock. He did his best not to draw attention to himself as he moved. This was the busiest portion of the Pit, and that was both a blessing and a curse for a man trying to keep himself hidden.

He managed to not attract any trouble until he got closer to the undermarket. It was there that he saw three Elfland Kings moving toward him, heads held high and haughtily looking down their noses at everyone around them. He stumbled to a nearby wall, and stuck a finger down his throat, forcing himself to vomit.

“Maybe if his whore of a mother had fucked a dwarf instead he could’ve held onto his liquor,” joked one of them.

The others laughed and Dantes managed to continue on his path unimpeded for a bit longer, playing the part of a drunken fool for several more stumbling steps. Unfortunately, not long after the first group of elves had moved on, he realized they were simply the vanguard for a larger group, and leading them was Reivare, their Grand Duke of Spring, still shirtless and covered in tattoos of trees and elvish script.

Dantes cursed under his breath, and diverted his course sharply, disguising it as a near fall as he moved toward the entry to the undermarket. He made it past the consortium guards without issue. Once in he began weaving through back alleys, dropping his drunken act in favor of speed.

He encountered a drunken half-orc pissing in an alley between vendor stalls. The orc’s eyes widened as they made eye contact. “Hey, ain’t you the one those elves are-?”

Dantes drove his knee into the orc's groin, causing him to crumple, and then quickly moved down another alley with a fresh piss stain on his pants. He started to hear some commotion behind him, and even in front of him, as if he was being cut off. He cursed under his breath, and made his way to the Which Wench. The front wasn’t being managed by Syn, but Celeste, in the guise of a busty halfling, who he didn’t know as well and didn’t trust, flanked by a dead eyed orc and dwarf. He went around the building to Syn’s corner of it and knocked on the wall.

“I told you earlier Tel, the first time was a special rate for a friend. Today's my day off anyway, and no that doesn’t mean I’m free for-” a kobold woman unlatched and looked through a small window, her slitted eyes dilated when she realized it was Dantes, it was difficult for him to trust her to help him, but he couldn’t see any other choice.

She looked around to make sure no one could see them, then became an orcish woman and held out her hands.

Dantes took them and she hauled him into the room where he landed with a thud.

“Why are you here Two-names? The Kings have been searching for you, this is the last place you should be right now.”

“Dwarves dumped me here when I tried making a trade for protection. Tried to make it into the outer tunnels, but some asshole spotted me in an alley.” Dantes looked around the room as he spoke. He’d never been in Syn’s room. They tended to do their gambling and talking at the nearby bar, or even in Collared territory. There was a real bed stuffed with straw, curtains nailed to the walls to hide the shoddy craftsmanship of the building, a large bowl filled with water next to which were several rags and even some soap. Next to the bed was a shelf on which were several bottles the purpose of which was not difficult to determine. The entire room smelled like roses, likely a strong perfume had been sprayed to hide more unpleasant scents, though Dantes could pick up the smell hiding underneath. It reminded him of his mother, and the room she’d used when she was working.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Syn looked him over. “You’re hurt. Sit on the bed for a bit, lie down if you have to, but watch that stain on the left.” Syn moved over to a pitcher of water and began pouring a cup.

Dantes went and sat on the edge of the bed, opening his jacket to check on Jacopo again. Jacopo was unconscious, but breathing. A small amount of blood trickling out of the edge of his mouth. Dantes clenched his jaw, feeling his small tusks prick the inside of his cheeks as they so often did. He could feel the life draining slowly from him. He thought back to the seeds he’d planted before he’d gone into the Kobold’s region of the pit. The offering he’d given, almost instinctively, to help them grow. He brought his finger to one of his tusks, pricked it, and let a single drop of blood drop into Jacopo’s mouth. It was subtle, but he thought he could feel the leaking of lifeforce slow down the moment the droplet hit his mouth.

Syn handed him a cup. “Here.”

Dantes nodded and took a long drink. He hadn’t had any water at all that day and the taste of vomit from earlier was still strong in his mouth. He swallowed and clenched his jaw again. All that work for nothing. All he had now was a pocket full of broken mirror, fresh bruises, and the bitter taste of failure in his mouth. His new abilities were helpful, but they weren’t enough. He needed more.

He touched the pocket that held the mirror shards…there still may be a use for them. He started to think on it, gently running his thumb across a flat surface. There was a sudden commotion from the, brothel’s entrance.

He and Syn exchanged a glance, and they both moved to the door to press their ears against the door.

“Looking for a Mutt. Short, wearing a big jacket. Gold eyes. Head shape that indicates low cunning and a preference for men, slight ear point that shows a weakness for spirits. Ran in this direction.”

“There’s no one here by that description.”

“We’ll check ourselves thank you.”

There was a brief scuffle with the no-named guards and from there was the sound of doors being knocked at, or knocked down as the searchers went room by room. They could hear the sounds of men cursing as they were interrupted, followed by short beatings and room searches.

Just before they reached Syn’s room, she opened her mouth and let out a guttural moan, followed by a series of other noises that would have made any man who hadn’t been raised in a brothel blush. In Dantes’ case it only made him look over at her with curiosity.

She kept up the performance as the commotion got closer, and began adding male grunts and groans to the chorus, making it seem as if she was two people at once, sometimes even speaking with both voices simultaneously.

Just before there was a knock on the door. Syn added additional layers to her performance with some dialogue.

“I didn’t even know a gnome could be that big.” followed by additional lewd noises.

“Big things come in small packages.” she replied to herself.

The search stopped and there was some shuffling of feet. “I don’t want to see what’s going on in there.”

“Sounds like a gnome in there anyway. Dantes must’ve made his way around us, or that half-breed orc lied.”

“Let’s go.”

One set of footsteps began walking away, but the other one hesitated, and Dantes heard him place his own head against the door for a few moments.

“Huh, good for him,” the Elf muttered, before following his companion out the door.

Even after they left, Syn kept up the performance for another ten minutes, adding more dialogue, backstory, and plot as she went along even after Dantes had given her the all clear. When she finally finished the ruse with a spectacular climax, she was breathing heavily and sat heavily on the bed, gesturing for Dantes to pour her some water.

Dantes, did so, looking at her with his eyebrow raised as she took the cup.

“I got wrapped up in the story, I wanted to see it through.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. Looking at her he got another flicker of the milk white skin and large black eyes hidden behind the Orcish female form she was still in from lifting him through the window. He ignored his discomfort of the sight. “Thank you Syn. I appreciate it.”

She shrugged. “If it was anyone else, I’d’ve forced a pact from them, but with you that’s pointless. Still, you owe me.”

“I do. Unfortunately, you’ll have to rely on my honor to pay you back.”

“That, or I could have a few of our nameless guards beat you.”

“Fair point.”

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