Downtown Druid

Once all Dantes’ preparation was done, he returned to the Collared to find not just Wane, but Tel waiting for him by their entrance. He felt the rats that were trailing him slip through cracks in the walls, or scurry through dark corners as the majority of them made their way to the undermarket. Roughly two dozen stayed near him, including a couple he’d tied mirror shards to. He trusted Merle to do his best to keep things civil, and he already knew that the Kings had accepted the deal thanks to a bit of spying Jacopo had done before he’d arrived, but tensions were high, and it never hurt to have a backup plan.

Tel looked a bit dejected and hesitated to say anything, so Wane spoke up first.

“Merle told me to tell you that the elves took you up on your offer. They’re waiting at the undermarket for you to show up. You have until the end of the day today, or else they’ll hunt you. They promised… they promised that if you did that, they’d flay you alive with dull knives.”

“Lovely.”

Tel stepped forward. “You’re sure about giving up? It doesn’t seem like you to just let them cut off your head like this.”

“I’m sure. I want to go out quick and clean. Not hunted down and beaten to death. Not starving in my little cave scared and waiting for them to find me. I want it on my terms. Besides, this way I can do the Collared a solid on my way out.”

“Speaking of doing a solid….” said Wane not so subtly.

“You’re shameless, you know that?”

“It’s one of my better qualities. Get it from my mother I think.”

“I left a map to my cave in a hidey hole. Tel knows where it is.” He looked to him. “Remember where I hid that mirror shard? That’s where it is. Wanted you to have first dibs on what I’m leaving behind. Smoked most’ve my weed though, so you won’t find much of that.”

Wane chuckled. “We smelled as much before you even rounded the corner.”

Dantes shrugged. “There are worse ways to spend a final day.”

Tel grimaced again. “I could smuggle you food, you know? We could work things out that you could lay low for years. The Kings could lose interest eventually.”

Dantes shook his head. “I already live half a life here in the pit, I won’t live an eighth of one.”

Wane nodded sagely. “There’s wisdom in that.”

Tel just threw up his hands . “Alright. I tried. Fuck.”

Dantes considered for a moment telling him his plan when he saw the distress he was causing him. That moment ended quickly though. He liked Tel, that didn’t mean he trusted him.

“Alright then, guess I’m off to the headman.”

Wane nodded. “Merle told me to bring along a few of our boys. To make sure they give the clean death you were promised. Wouldn’t do what little rep we have any good if we don’t follow through.”

Dantes shrugged. “You can be honest and just say they want to see the spectacle of having me killed.”

Wane chuckled. “Well, Pillion did volunteer, but the rest of em don’t really know you. They’re Merle's more…ardent disciples.” Wane’s inhaled through his nostrils deeply. “Ah, that’s them now.”

Dantes looked and saw four men nearly as massive as Merle himself. Collars digging into their thick necks, old mage robes barely clinging to them despite their looseness, and arms as big as their heads. Behind those four impressive specimens, was Pillion, with a smirk on his face.

Dantes frowned. Those five meant there would be more damage to mitigate, but he couldn’t blame Merle for it, nor was it entirely unexpected. He nodded at the men. “Ready to watch me die?”

Pillion chuckled. “Very.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to make sure I bleed on you a bit. May tell one of the elves that the crime that got you here was raping an elven virgin before they off me.”

Pillion’s face went red. “I’m just here for theft!”

“I know. Hopefully they’ll believe you when you tell them that. Though I do wonder if they’d question a dying man’s last words too much…”

“Fucking asshole, I’m looking forward to seeing your head tumble across the market.” muttered Pillion, slinking behind the four much larger escorts.

“Alright, we should get going.” Dantes ordered the nearby rats to move along with them, and looked briefly through Jacopo’s eyes.

He was on a shaky roof in the undermarket. The streets were more filled than usual. He could see the usual hucksters and storefronts, and the Which Wench was doing excellent business with the increased foot traffic. Most importantly he could see that a small stage of sorts had been erected, with a delicate steel blade driven into its center. Elves surrounded the crude stage, mostly the ones he recognized to be from the gang’s leadership. Their Duke, Reivare, was sitting on the stage edge, sneering at a nearby halfling and hollering a slur in his direction.

Along with the elves was a heavier press of other races as well. Several Orcs from their gang which had the sense not to name themselves, a half dozen members of Clan Stonedust including Iron and a few members of consortium taking bets on what the result would be. Not whether or not Dantes would die, but whether he would chicken out, or if the Elves would purposefully make it slow after saying they wouldn’t, little things like that. He could also sense the other rats through Jacopo, taking their places with the mirror shards, preparing. Dantes had a few more moving even further than the undermarket, but he’d found that it spent favor more quickly to look through those rats whose eyes were further away, particularly those other than Jacopo, whose eyes he could peer through at no cost at all.

“Did you hear me Dantes?” asked Tel.

Dantes shook his head. Looking through Jacopo’s eyes and using his newfound abilities was still distracting. He’d need to work on doing it more naturally, assuming his plan worked and he survived.

“No. Not at all. Just wondering if they’ll behead me, or what other options they may have chosen.”

“Probably a rapier through the heart,” said one of the escorts, a strangely muscular elf. “The traditionalists usually favor that way.”

“Too vain for beheadings?’

“That and back in the Fey realm it wasn’t as much of a guarantee of death. There’s an old story of a green knight… it was a whole thing.”

“Rapier through the heart isn’t too bad. Appreciate the information,” It also impacted a few last minute decisions he needed to make.

“What I was saying is that I’ll be going too.”

Dantes frowned. “Why?”

“Syn may need a shoulder to cry on after you’re gone. I want to be the first to volunteer,” he lied, poorly.

“I’m pretty sure she’ll have her hands full with other business. Feel free to lie and tell her it was my last wish that she’d give you a lay for free.”

Tel put a hand on Dantes’ arm, managing a brief smile. “You’re a true friend.”

He nodded, though he knew a true friend would do everything he could to keep him from walking into the chaos he was about to cause.

With nothing left to say, the group began the walk to the undermarket. Unlike the roundabout paths, and strange caverns Dantes usually wound his way through, the group went straight to the undermarket. It made him nervous, even more so than his unfolding plot. The group made it to the market in roughly half the time it usually took him to do so, and the dwarven guards waved them through with no issue.

Just as he’d seen through Jacopo’s eyes, there was a large crowd gathered. Members of all the major gangs were milling about, as were randoms, gamblers, and the usual degenerates that made up the thriving Underprison community.

He took a moment to disperse the rats that were still with him, and had them take their positions. He checked on the other rats that he’d sent ahead and found that they were already in place, or at least near enough that it didn’t matter. They were good at following orders, especially when Jacopo assisted him in ensuring that they understood them. He quickly checked the ratmark on his arm. It still had a full fang of gold left.

The crowd parted when they noticed Dantes and the Collared that were with him. At the far edge of the crowd he saw the Elves gathered and waiting, smirks on their faces as they looked down their noses at him.

Reivare, still shirtless as he had been every time Dantes had seen him, leapt down from the crudely erected stage. His tattoos shifted and moved, as they played across his lean musculature making it look as if the tree on his chest was swaying in the wind. He gestured to the crowd and looked directly at Dantes.

“Let this be an example to all of you. To cross me, to cross your betters, is a fool's game. This mutt realized that and chose the only smart move he could, choosing not to play.”

Dantes clenched his jaw, feeling his small tusks poke against the inside of his cheeks. He hadn’t even begun to play.