Downtown Druid

Dantes watched the corpse disposal with mild fascination. He was no stranger to rot and decay, not in midtown, and certainly not down in the Pit. Still, seeing it sped up by the frenzy of rats and roaches, while the roots of the nearby plants dug into the corpses, their roots finding fresh blood in their veins, that was thankfully a unique and new experience for him.

When they were done he moved over to each of the bodies and pried off the ears he’d had his fellow vermin leave for him. He placed them in a small pouch and glanced at the corpses up close. They were mostly skeletal, and the roots and vines that had grown through the bodies seemed to criss-cross all throughout it as if they had taken the place of their veins. In the center of it, he noticed that their hearts were still intact. For a moment he swore he saw them beat, but after blinking and rubbing his eyes he didn’t detect any more movement.

He was tired. Exercising his abilities, fighting, even with his increased strength and stamina it was an unfamiliar and exhausting experience. He reached out his awareness, and felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. The garden was content, more so than it had been in a month. The vermin were happy too, with stomachs full of warm flesh. His marks showed that he’d made up a bit of the ground he’d lost in the fight as well.

He moved over to pick up the young elf’s long dagger. He didn’t know much about metal that wasn’t gold or silver, but could tell it was high quality. The older elf’s thin sword was also a beautiful piece, and he found another small dagger in a sheath that he must've hidden somewhere in his clothes. He slipped all of the weapons into his belt and stretched. If the Consortium wanted the source of the fruit this much, that only added to the leverage he had with them. It was time to make them an offer.

He started walking out of the cavern, when he felt Jacopo crawl through his jacket to the pouch he’d stored the elf ears in.

“What are you doing?” asked Dantes.

“Getting a snack.”

“Those aren’t to eat, they’re to bargain.”

Jacopo crawled up his jacket and sat on his shoulder. “I’d assumed they were for me.”

Dantes sighed. “It might undercut a dramatic gesture later, but I’ll give them to you when I’m done.”

Jacopo considered that for a moment. “Okay.” he crawled across Dantes’ back to the opposite shoulder, ducking down when Dantes moved to get down through a particularly narrow passageway. “What are you bargaining for?”

“My escape.”

“Is that not what the seed is for?”

“The seed is just a possibility. A backup plan. Using it is high risk. It can maybe get me out, but can’t guarantee I make it out alive.”

“And elf ears can?”

“What they represent might. The consortium has smuggled people out before, at least that’s the rumor. I’m going to make them an offer.”

Jacopo stayed silent for long enough that Dantes thought the conversation was done, then he spoke again. “What’s it like?”

“What?”

“Above. Outside of this place. What’s it like?”

Dantes paused his walking. “You don’t know?”

Jacopo shook his head. “I was born here. Grandmother was from a ship, but father and mother were born here.”

“And there’s no escape to the surface for rats? No small holes that take you out to the streets?”

He shook his head again. “I’ve heard that there were, but now they are blocked by something. Some kind of invisible force.”

Dantes nodded, the same protection that had been put in place after the escape of Gideon Gallant. He hadn’t considered that it may have affected rats too, but it made sense. “Hmm, let me try something.” He opened his mind and started to think of the city, broadcasting thoughts of it to Jacopo through their connection. He thought of darkened alleys in the rain, the spiral towers of the academy visible from miles away, the beautiful white streets of uptown, the dank and cracked cobblestone of midtown, the vast squares of old parts of town that had fallen into disrepair only to become overgrown, filled with wild dogs and maddened tax evaders, and the sounds of men yelling on the docks as they hauled goods from ships. He topped it all off with the view of the city from the rooftops at night, windows lit orange with candlelight, or green with witchfire, the infinite possibilities that view held. By the end of it he was clenching his fist and jaw. He wanted it back. Craved it.

Jacopo nodded. “Yes, I want to see all of that myself.” he paused. “I don’t need an ear if keeping it will help you.”

Dantes smiled. “I appreciate that.”

…

Dantes walked through the tunnels and past Collared territory to where the smaller gangs in the Pit gathered. Those too principled, or more likely, too impure to be part of the larger racial gangs tended to bunch up in smaller groups to stay alive. A few of them were entire gangs that got thrown into the pit at once, and others had formed when they’d arrived. They were as varied as the cobblestone on a midtown street, and engaged in near constant infighting. In general that meant that they were left to their own devices. He’d heard stories of the smaller gangs gathering into a genuine force before, but they always wound up being crushed by the elves, dwarves, orcs, and Consortium who were unwilling to let that threat to their own power exist.

Dantes passed by a few dice games, a brawl, a younger man with his hair in braids and his eyes covered in makeup, and a group gathered around a large stew pot, each of them throwing in mushrooms, bits of rat, and clippings of greenery in an attempt to make something edible and filling for the group to share. He received a number of looks as he passed by, but none of them made any attempts to stop or bother him. He was better fed, better armed, and a number of them had heard the rumors of a man by his exact description taking out both the Elven Kings, and his recent work with the changelings against the orcs. If he’d been wanting to go incognito he could’ve drawn his cloak and hid his blades, but he wanted Grimald to know he was on his way, and that meant causing a bit of a stir before he went to meet him. All that said, he still had Jacopo watching his back and shifted his focus across the various vermin around him to ensure that he wasn’t being tailed.

Dantes rounded a corner to a small cul de sac of cells. It was prime real estate, and unlike the rest of this section of the prison it wasn’t a mire of filth and hopelessness. Drawing of nude elves, orcs, and gnomes had been stuck to the walls of the three cells, there was a smell of fresh rather than rotten food, and there even seemed to be attempt to keep the trash and leftover food in a specific corner rather than letting it drop where it may.

He heard some light laughter and saw a small fire in the center. Around that fire sat Zak, Jayson, and Jayk. Jayson was mixing together surprisingly appetizing ingredients into a small pan, while the other two seemed to be counting and measuring goods. Clearly the small jobs and contacts he’d hooked them up with were helping the “Shadow Cats” out quite a bit.

“You three come up with a new name yet?” Dantes asked as he stepped into the light of their fire.

They all jumped, Jayson only barely keeping himself from spilling his food.

Jayson rallied the quickest of the three. “Dantes, uh no, we’re still working on that.” He looked around, as if looking for something to hand him or lean against. Eventually he settled on gesturing with the small pot toward Dantes. “Would you like something to eat?”

Dantes smiled, and moved over to the stone that Zak was sitting on. He gave him a look and Zak took the meaning quickly and made room for him. Dantes sat on the raised stone and looked at Jayson. “I could eat.”

While Jayson started divvying up the food into clay bowls, Jayk settled in and Dantes could tell he was thinking things through. How had Dantes known where they slept? What did he want? In truth he’d had a few rats find their base for him.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” asked Jayk. “More info on that job the changelings needed done?”

Dantes shook his head and took a bowl as Jayson handed it to him. They only had three, so Jayson ate straight from the Pot. “What I need from you is simple.” He drew each of the weapons he’d taken from the elves and placed them in front of himself. “Backup.”