Downtown Druid

Had Dantes been focused on something other than the dice game, he may have placed some rats in the tunnels between the Undermarket and the Collared, so that he could keep a closer eye on when the Consortium had arrived, seen the elves and prepared for them, but he had no such foresight, and found himself cursing under his breath. Still, he was in a relatively safe situation overall. The Collared weren't a powerful group, but they could easily handle two elves if they needed to, and it wasn’t as if the Consortium didn’t hire other races to be bodyguards, it was just usually Kobolds or Dwarves.

Dantes moved across the chamber toward them, approaching at the same pace that Merle was in order to ensure they’d arrive together by the fountain in the center of the Collared’s cells. He realized as he approached, that the elves were familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them until he got closer and heard them speaking to one another. They were the two elves who’d nearly found him in the outskirts with Tel. One was older, with white streaks through black hair and a solemn expression emphasized by a scar along his right cheek. The other was clearly younger, with chestnut hair braided down his back and an impudent smirk. Both were wearing blades at their waists, but they made no movement toward them as he came into view.

“Looks like you two finally found me,” said Dantes, deciding to lean on bluster in service of his budding reputation.

The younger of the elves squinted. “How do you know-”

“Because we got close at some point,” said the older of them, cutting him off. “He saw us searching for him and he put two and two together.” He frowned, bringing a thoughtful hand up to his scar. “As a professional, can I ask where you saw us?”

“In the large chamber with the pews. I ducked behind a row as I heard you approaching.”

“I told you! I knew I’d heard footsteps!”

The older one shrugged. “You should’ve been more insistent on searching the room then.”

“You’re not here to kill me, I assume?”

They both opened their mouths to speak, but a gnome stepped between them. “Not unless you attempt to harm me.” The gnome was wearing a silk tunic and a gold coin made into a medallion on his neck. He had a shock of white hair, but was otherwise bald, and wore small glasses that made his eyes appear twice as large through the lenses.

Dantes nodded at him and held out his hand, “Dantes, a pleasure.”

The gnome took his hand and gave it a surprisingly firm shake. “Grimald, I’ll reserve judgment until after we’ve spoken.”

Dantes put up his hands. “Fair enough.” he turned to Merle. “Should we meet in your chamber? Or would you prefer to have an audience?”

Merle gestured. “My chamber would be best. I’d ask that your bodyguards wait outside, or things will get quite cramped.”

“I don’t take up much space, one of them will join me inside and the other will wait outside.”

“Fair enough,” said Merle with a nod as he turned toward his room.

Dantes walked ahead of the gnome and behind Merle. Jacapo peeked out of a small hole in the back of his jacket so that he could watch his back. The elves had new employment, sure, but that didn’t mean that the gnome had their loyalty. They could easily be out for revenge. At the same time, Dantes doubted that the gnome would put himself in that much danger for elf revenge, and the consortium agents tended to be savvy enough judges of character that he likely knew whether or not vengeance was what they were after. Whatever the case, Dantes felt off balance, which was likely exactly Gramald’s reason for choosing elven bodyguards.

They all reached Merle’s office. The older of the elves came in, while the younger one stayed outside. They all sat down, and settled in, except for the Elf that stood behind Grimald in a relaxed stance that reminded Dantes of a stray cat, calm, but ready to react the moment a rat squeaked past him.

Grimald cleared his throat. “So, Dantes, before we get to any business, I want to know why the Consortium should deal with someone who made as much trouble in the undermarket as you did? Who cost us valuable profit?”

Dantes shook his head. “It wasn’t me that cost you. It was the Kings. I’ve never made trouble in the Undermarket before. I’ve bought, sold, and traded there. Connected friends to the right businesses, and kept my head down. The Kings on the other hand, were constantly disrupting things. They’d take up space, run some sellers out of business to set up elves in their place, start fights, and they were able to avoid buying a good chunk of goods from you thanks to their mirrors, which I’ve destroyed. I wouldn’t have made that spectacle in the market if they hadn’t decided to try and kill me simply because I ran into their leader by accident. Hells, they could’ve refused my deal and killed me long before things spilled into the undermarket, they made the choice to make it your problem.” Dantes paused for a moment, and smiled. “Besides all that, I don’t see a reason to let what’s in the past hurt potential profits in the future.”

Grimald smirked. “Everything you just said, except that last part, was bullshit. Luckily, that last part was all that matters to me. What is your proposal?”

Dantes returned the expression and pulled one of the sample flasks from his jacket, handing it to Grimald.

Grimald unsealed it, and had a sniff, then he passed it back to the elf, who sniffed it as well, then took a sip. The Elf swallowed, then nodded to Grimald and handed it back. Grimald lifted it to his lips and took a sip as well, but kept his face impassive much more successfully than Merle had.

“Hmm, so you’ve come across some booze? It’s hardly worth calling in the consortium to sell a bit of that.”

“It’s not just a bit. I can guarantee barrels of it every month.”

Grimald rolled his head side to side. “So, what? The offer is to sell that to us at a wholesale price and then we distribute it as needed?”

“Basically,” said Merle.

“There could be some profit in that, but not much for us. We already have steady supplies of booze.”

Dantes smiled. They had steady supplies of booze, but that was before he’d sent rats to scope out their territory. While there he’d had them spill, shit in, and generally destroy whatever consortium booze they could access. They had a bit left, enough to sell for the short term, but if the destruction kept up, and it would, they’d be out of a steady supply. Grimald was bluffing to give himself a stronger hand.

“Not like this you don’t. Besides, having an internal supplier rather than needing to smuggle it down here reduces your risks and overhead, doesn’t it?”

Grimald took off his glasses and polished them for a moment. “We may be able to work something out I suppose… and what is the Collared’s place in all of this?”

“They’ll handle the logistics side of things. Hauling the booze from the brewer to you in the undermarket.”

Dantes saw a twinkle in the gnome’s oversized eyes.

“Okay then. Before we get started on exact payments, I have to ask, how would you prefer to be paid? Have family on the surface you need us to get coin to? Want a pile of dust, or weed? Maybe food?”

“I want sixty percent of it in goods, and the rest in coin.”

That got raised eyebrows from both Merle and Grimald.

“Coin?” asked Grimald.

“That’s what I said.”

“Hmmm, we, which is to say the Consortium, are the only ones down here that deal in coin.”

“Then you should be delighted to know that a good chunk of what you pay me will make its way back to you.” That was a lie, of course, he had other plans for the funds. He didn’t want to be starting from scratch when he escaped.

“Hmmm, I think we can figure something out. Let’s get down to exact amounts here.”

Dantes smiled. The hardest part was just beginning, but it was clear that everyone wanted a deal, and as long as the Consortium thought of him as a source of profit, he’d be safe to move freely in the undermarket. All he had to focus on in the short term would be making a profit, and in the long run he could start looking into avenues to escape.

“Before we get into details, I’d like to offer the first month’s supply for free, as an apology for the damage done to the undermarket.”

“An honorable gesture, the consortium will remember that.”

Dantes smiled warmly, knowing full well that the gnome thought he was a fool for that offer. That suited him just fine.