Dantes made his way into Collared chambers, exchanging nods and hellos with those he recognized as he made his way toward the usual location of the dice game near Tel’s room. The game wasn’t happening, but Wane, who he was looking for anyway, was leaning against the wall thumbing through an old grimoire.
“No game today?”
Wane carefully took a small bookmark from behind his ear and slid it into the page he was reading before turning his head toward Dantes.
“Fraid not. Tel went with you to the Undermarket, and I think Pillion went there as well to see if he could get some booze. Apparently he can’t stand the taste of the stuff you turned us onto. Says it’s ‘too sweet’.”
“That figures,” said Dantes, keeping himself from smiling. That put him in prime position for the beating he’d just sent his way. Assuming the Shadow Cats moved quickly.
“Tel not come back with you?”
“He got distracted by Syn.”
“Which kind of sin? Gambling, drinking, whoring?”
“Whoring, the one named Syn.”
“Oh gods. I’ll have to hear about him bragging about his exploits again then. As if it’s the hardest thing in the world to have a prostitute say your name.”“I’m glad I’ve avoided that particular conversation.”
“You should be. I’ll talk about just about anything to avoid the boredom down here, but even I have limits.” He tucked his book under his arm. “Do you want to see if we can round up some boys for a few rolls? I was trying to go through this rust-proofing enchantment, but it’s not like I’ll actually be able to use it.”
“No, no dice for me today. I was hoping to get some info from you though.”
“Got any dust?”
“A little,” Dantes patted a pouch in his jacket. “Info first though.”
“Alright, go ahead.”
“Do you still keep in touch with any of the Orcs you used to run with?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Keep contacts mostly so Merle can have a contact to hash problems out with. Why?”
“I need a meet. The Orcs are trying to put a tax on the brothel, and the consortium isn’t backing them up. I owe them, so I wanted to try and get them to back off.”
Wane rubbed his chin. “Damn, that’s bold of them. Good way to piss off the whole Pit. Give me some time, one week, maybe two and I’ll set something up with Kester, one of the sergeants. Can’t promise they’ll listen to you though.”
“They’ll listen, just bring them to the table for me.”
“If you say so, just make sure you’re wearing that sword when you meet them. I’d also consider bringing some muscle if you can find it. They don’t respect anything, but strength.” Wane was baring his tusks as he spoke, frustration clear in his tone.
Dantes reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch of dust he’d kept in case he’d wanted to trade anything, at least that’s what he told himself.
He handed it to Wane and watched with envy as he licked his pinky and stuck it inside the bag before running a bit of it along his gums, letting out a satisfied sigh.
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“You sure you don’t want to have a few rolls before you go? Slim bets since the supply drop is tomorrow, but there are worse ways to pass the time.”
Dantes thought about it for a moment. “Well…maybe just a few rolls.”
…
The next day, Dantes made his way to the Maw for the supply drop. He didn’t need any supplies, his new sources of food and drink meant he should never have any issues with that ever again, but he did need information. He’d considered using a few rats, or sending Jacopo into Orc territory for more information, what they’d been up to, and their dynamics, but he figured that the best way to see how the hierarchy in the Pit had changed, would be to watch the supply drop.
Dantes kept his hood up, and stayed at the edges of the activity, his rapier hidden and shiv at the ready. Even at the outskirts, everyone’s blood would be up and one never knew what might happen. It smelled of sweat and misery, and a few dozen men were already in the maw’s opening, some skinny and desperate, and others well fed and menacing. Around the opening, there were no longer Elfland Kings, but several smaller gangs seemed to be trying to make up for the gap. Clan Stonedust had a large, but smaller than usual, force that was noticeably between those smaller gangs and the collared rather than next to the Orcs where they usually stood.
The Orcs themselves had been given a wide berth, leaving what people might think were gaps to slip through, but Dantes could tell it was a trap, with other orcs behind those gaps ready to take advantage of those that attempted to slip through them. Underestimating Orcs was a global pastime. One would look at them and think, they’re brutish, simple, and violent, and think nothing else. All three of those things were often true, but many of them were also cunning, often brutally so. Violent didn't mean stupid, it just meant they enjoyed taking the quickest solution to problems others might spend far too much time on.
“Clear the Maw!” came the shout from the guards above. A few of the people gathered below scattered, but most of them stood their ground. The guards began throwing sacks down into the pit, a few of them rolling down barrels. At one point a sack was thrown into the middle, and a man went for it, only for another sack to slam into his head, snapping his neck. That raised a cheer from the guards above, and wincing from a few below.
The Orcs were moving while this happened. It was subtle, but the group of them began slowly shifting to one side. Dantes noticed that behind the front line of them, several of the orcs had drawn weapons. Rusty axes, knives, and swords along with heavy clubs.
Dantes moved quickly, pushing through the crowd and making his way over to where the Collared were standing. He didn’t see Merle, so he approached the most muscular of them, the Elf that had so recently told him that the Fey method of execution was a sword through the heart. The Collared jumped at his approach at first, before they realized it was him.
“Orebus!” Dantes yelled over the commotion, barely remembering the man’s name as he reached them.
The muscular elf turned his way “Dantes! Clear out, any supplies through here are ours!” It was a kind warning, if anyone who hadn’t known them had approached they’d’ve been beaten and robbed immediately. Even the Collared didn’t play around on re-supply days.
“The Orcs! They’re armed, I think they’re planning something!”
Orebus turned to look past the commotion at the center of the pit and see the Orcs. He squinted for a moment, and his ears twitched a bit. His eyes widened, and he turned to the men he had gathered.
“Bolt in, grab the nearest supplies, and retreat!” he yelled.
The men around him looked confused, but he himself didn’t hesitate, running into the pit, and grabbing a sack of potatoes, shoving a scrawny desperate man to the side as he did so.
They followed suit shortly after, and roars of protest went out from the smaller gangs and the dwarves. What Orebus had done was a major breach of the delicate etiquette of the pit and its balance. The dwarves' protests quickly turned to screams however, as the Orcs began their assault.
They swarmed across the gap between themselves and Clan Stonedust, a green and gray tide roaring with fury as they smashed into them. Those orcs that had readied their weapons charged first, while those that had hidden them from the front swarmed into the opening to the maw and began tearing into the supplies and those that had been looting them.
The element of surprise meant that the majority of the dwarves were slaughtered before they could mount a serious defense, though several of them made a break for it.
Dantes didn’t stick around to watch in person, instead watching what happened through the eyes of a rat as he made his own retreat. The Orcs now controlled most of a supply drop, all of the prisoners that would drop in, and had cleared out a significant chunk of their primary rivals all in one fell swoop. Dantes was impressed. It was a brazen move, but it allowed them to further secure their power now with the vacuum he’d created by scattering the Kings.
Dantes cut off his connection before the guards began feather falling and dropping in the new prisoners. They clearly didn’t care what circumstances they threw these people into, and Dantes had no desire to see what the Orcs were planning to do to them.
As he made his way into the less traveled tunnels he frequented, he clenched his jaw. It was already going to be difficult to honor his favor for Syn, but it had just got even harder. That was assuming Wane even managed to secure him a meeting with them after what had just happened.
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