Downtown Druid

Jayk, Jayson, and Zak all sat together around a small table in the corner of the Drowned Rat. The bartender Biertan was lazily playing a Melancholy tune on a small lute while rain fell on the roof and trickled down to collect on the floor. It was about a centimeter high at this point, but if the rain lasted for too long it could easily rise to a foot or more. Water ran along the walls, dripped directly onto the floor next to them, and even into their drinks.

Jayk frowned as a particularly large droplet splashed into his beer.

Jayson smiled. “The water could only improve the taste.”

Jayk sighed and drank a bit of it. It had the taste of piss and the aroma of a dying skunk. It didn’t even seem to cause a buzz. Either the beer had already been watered down, or the casks holding it had enough holes that the rain watered it down all on its own.

“This is the worst tavern I’ve ever been in,” said Zak, not bothering to stay quiet enough to Bierten, the bartender, not to hear him

Bierten didn’t care, he knew that was a true statement, but there are benefits to running the worst bar. People went there for their illicit meetings, they sold and bought drugs, and many men of disrepute gathered there to be found for work. It was because of those benefits that he was the one of the richest tavern owners in midtown, despite having its worst bar.

They all nursed their awful drinks a bit more, nibbling on the slightly damp peanuts they shared in a bowl between them as they waited.

“Are we sure he’s going to show?” asked Jayson.

“He always managed to make our meetings when we were in the prison. There’s no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to make them here,” responded Jayk.

The candles across the tavern all flickered as the door opened and a man stepped inside. He was average height, wearing tall boots, and a long green jacket. His hood was up, but even with his face hidden he gave off a tremendous amount of presence. All those inside suddenly felt as if there were one thousand eyes watching from every direction. The bartender's lute-playing hit the wrong note for a moment, and he stopped to look back at his hands and reposition them along the strings.

“Told you,” said Jayk as the man walked directly toward their table. He hadn’t even looked for where they were sitting. It was as if he knew where they were before even entering.

He sat in the chair across from Jayk, and between Zak and Jayson. He was a bit taller than Zak, and a bit shorter than Jayson, but he seemed bigger than both of them somehow. He pulled back his green hood and looked at them with eyes as gold as coins.

“So, did you settle on a new name?” he asked with a smile as he leaned back in his chair.

The three of them exchanged glances, and Jayson spoke. “We decided on… no name, actually.”

“Oh really?”

Jayk nodded. “Yeah, we realized that all the big guys in the city, the ones you don’t fuck with, they don’t have names. They just…are.”

“Except for the Gatemen,” interjected Zak.

“They work for the littlest of the fingers for a reason,” replied Jayson.

Dantes smiled. “Now that’s a good answer. I mean, something more like ‘Pit Rats’ may have worked too, but no name at all? That’s probably the best answer you could’ve given.” He pushed his hair from his face as he spoke. His hand looked strange to Zak, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Jayk noted a difference in his face and expression since they’d seen him last. His features seemed a bit more narrow, his eyes more probing, his movements were easygoing, but had a kind of quickness to him that spoke of intense alertness to everything around him.

“So, why did you call us out here? It can’t have just been about our name.”

“Well,” smiled Dantes, “it was mostly about the name, but yes I do have something else for you.” He reached into his jacket and everyone at the table tensed, but resisted going for any of their weapons. He pulled out three small boxes, and three hammers, and slid them gently to the middle of the table. “If you’re going to be working with me, it will put you in danger. These should help.”

Zak picked up one of the boxes and shook it gently by his ear, hearing something move quickly around the inside of the box when he did so.

“Don’t shake them.”

Zak stopped, and placed the box back on the table a little sheepishly.

“If you find yourself in danger, you need to crush the box. That will let me know that I need to help you.”

Jayk held one of the hammers. “This… this one has magic to it. I can smell roses. He sniffed the box as well. This one smells too, but more faintly, like what's magic is inside the box rather than the box itself. What do they do?”

Zak snickered, but held back from his usual critique of how Jayk sensed magic.

“The hammers can break an anti-vermin enchantment, and the key inside them will let the box enter places with that enchantment. If you’re in danger somewhere vermin can’t reach, use the hammer and I’ll be better able to help you.”

Each of the three men took their own box and hammer, and tucked them into their jackets and pockets. Jayk hesitated, it was only for a moment, but he was certain Dantes had noticed. They were giving something up, losing options, by taking these objects. The price of security, that cost of doing business with someone like Dantes.

Zak didn’t think about it too much. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What was the other thing you wanted?” asked Jayson.

“Information. I want to know what the state of things in Mondego’s operation is. Particularly how his lieutenants and other men are feeling about him.”

Jayson spoke first. “No one is happy with him right now. The men are dying or being arrested left and right, less and less gold is flowing down and more of it up. A lot of men and women already bailed.”

“I talked to an old member of the Dock Sharks that mentioned he was upset at what they did to the Vixen. Called it an ‘institution’. Apparently he lost his virginity there a long time ago when he was still a sailor.”

Dantes absorbed that information carefully, his full focus was on the table, and the three of them were having difficulty under the pressure of it. It was like having the weight of a leviathan on your shoulders.

“What about those not working for Mondego, but with him. The neighboring gangs, those who are on the other side of the smuggling. Anything from them?”

Zak and Jayson turned to Jayk, who sighed. “They are even less happy than those under Mondego, but there aren’t any other options for smuggling at the docks. The number of shipments they’ve lost is a large negative for them, but there’s no other game in town. The gangs outside of midtown are looking at the territory hungrily, but no ones making any moves. Not sure why, but my guess is that the fingers are having them hold off.”

Dantes nodded along as he spoke. “They’re making them hold off, but they’re not making them help. That’s good, means they haven’t accepted him as one of them.” Dantes took a nut and placed it into his jacket.

Zak watched as his coat shifted slightly and then Dantes’s hand reappeared with nothing in it.

“I’m going to need more specifics, but I don’t expect you to have them now. I want a list of former gang leaders that got absorbed into Mondego’s organization. I want to know what their current attitudes are, and if you think they’re pliable or not. I also want to know how many of them have rivalries with other groups, or have had them. In a week there will be a pigeon on the window of wherever you’re staying. It will tap three times. I want you to write the information I’ve asked for down, and tie it to the bird's leg. We won’t speak again in person unless I feel it’s necessary. Do you understand?”

The three of them nodded.

“Good. Keep working with me and when I own midtown, I’ll make sure each of you has a piece. You’re too talented for grunt work… dealing dust? Mondego and his people have no eye for talent.” Dantes stood and drew his hood back up. “We’ll be in touch.” He walked out of the building, and some of the feeling of presence left with him, but not all of it. It was as if a piece of him lingered behind wherever he went.

“How did he know about the dealing?” asked Zak.

“Same way as everything else. He can control vermin. He’s been watching us. That’s probably why he mentioned that, to remind us that he has eyes on us at all times,” said Jayk, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

“I thought it was just plants,” said Jayson.

Jayk shook his head. “No, I heard from one of the guys that attacked him with Mondego. Rats, roaches, bats, he can summon them at will. They also said he can teleport.”

“Gods…at least it seems like we backed the right one.”

Jayk nodded, though reluctantly. “It certainly feels like we did.”