The road to the apothecary's house was the same as he'd taken to go to the Garrison to back up Thackeray, and he tried pushing how that had ended out of his head. This was not a rampaging centaur invasion. It was a few of his own gang members. He could handle it. This was much more in his realm of experience than backing up Seraph during a mass movement of Tamini trying to break the lines. This, he understood.

The small house stood on the rise overlooking the river that the Garrison controlled, and Ulrich could see that the gang was already there…unless the apothecary normally employed masked look outs. The nearest one saw his approach and waved easily enough, recognizing him. For just a second, Ulrich felt remorse, until he heard a thin, piercing scream from the open doorway. No, this was bad. They deserved what they got…

Alice and a gang member that he did not recognize stood in the room immediately beyond the doorway. Alice stared at him, suspicious for a split second, until the other man's eyes fell on her. She went from an obvious 'what the hell are you doing here?' to 'oh, that's where you are!' in a half of a heartbeat. "Ulrich!" She greeted, not a false note in the syllables. The man with her seemed contented by that immediate recognition, and the relaxed stance of the lookouts.

"Let's get this stuff back to Pete." He stated, and Ulrich still didn't recognize him. "The others will take care of the rest." He hefted a bag from the table next to him, and nodded to Alice.

"Be careful with that stuff." She warned him. "It's dangerous."

Dangerous. Ulrich stared at the man, and the bag, trying to figure out some way to get him to let it go. He was coming up with a firm blank, at least with any plan that had a chance of succeeding and leaving him standing, when another man came down from upstairs in a hurry. His eyes first fell on Alice, and he started to speak, then noticed Ulrich. This one Ulrich knew… a real up and comer in Pete's eyes. Ulrich could hear a scuffle upstairs, and he sensed fear. Tension. Things were going badly?

"Your friend Quinn's upstairs. You better get up there before it gets too rough for him."

Once again, Ulrich found himself charging up a set of stairs, but without Quinn to cover him, and now he was unarmed.

"Help!" It was the same thin, reedy voice as the earlier scream. An elderly voice, probably female. "They're going to kill me!"

What had Quinn gotten himself into this time? He was an idiot, but not the sort to hurt the helpless…

"Seriously, guys." Quinn's voice, a thin string of desperation in it, trying to be calm and reasonable. Never a good thing, neither were a strong point with him. "We can still work this out. We don't have to hurt the old lady."

Uh oh. Ulrich reached the top of the stairs, and it was exactly as he feared. Quinn. What he guessed was the resident apothecary, and four men, one of them holding said resident apothecary, with a knife to her throat.

"Please don't kill me! I've given you everything you asked for." The woman pleaded, and Ulrich cringed. The odds were bad. As unarmed as he was, it was basically four to one against Quinn. He could hear Alice moving the other two out of the house, either she was unconcerned, or trying to keep them from throwing in as well…Ulrich wasn't certain.

"What are you doing?" Quinn demanded, "We don't need to hurt her."

"We do what Pete says, and Pete says she dies."

Ulrich backed into the corner, desperately thinking. He had to come up with something, anything, other than the only course of action his mind was coming up with. His bone minions would help even the fight, at least until he could get his hands on something to fight with. They'd be a surprise. It seemed to be his only option…

"Yeah? Well…well, I say no way!" It was obvious that Quinn didn't do righteous indignation well, but he was giving an honest try.

"Say whatever you want, but I'm not leaving her alive."

Quinn bellowed and charged, the minions scampering beyond him to attack the man with the knife. They had sharp teeth to savage with, and were heavier than they looked. The man dropped the knife and screamed as they tore through his trousers and started in on his flesh. His friends paused, caught between trying to grab the oozing, flayed beasts or meeting Quinn's charge. They both apparently decided that Quinn was the larger threat, and left the man to deal with the attacking minions alone. Ulrich slid behind them, eyes firmly planted on a pistol left discarded on the side table. Another gun…he'd much rather prefer a scepter. That had felt right, this would just be another wrong weapon in his hands, but Thackeray still had his. He grasped it, leveled it, and pulled the trigger. The shot was good, but it felt empty. The minions had managed to drag down their target, and Ulrich ignored the all too obvious noises from beyond that table. They weren't the most pleasant of manifestations, and he'd seen their work plenty of other times. Quinn had finished his two off and turned to Ulrich in obvious confusion.

"I had things under control, Ulrich, but I'm glad you showed up."

Blood splashed across the walls and Ulrich grimaced at the mess. He glanced at the apothecary, but she might have just been too blind to notice. Or she just didn't care. Both were equally possible. "As am I." Now he was certain she just didn't care. She was watching the corner, but she did so with a certain entranced fascination, not disgust. "I owe you my life. Thank you. But they took my entire supply of rhizome powder. It's a strong poison."

And Ulrich suddenly understood Thackeray's focus, his rush. There was no sane, viable reason for a gang to need something like that… "Poison?" He echoed. "Quinn, what's going on? The Seraph will be here any second. If we tell them what Pete's planning, they can stop it."

Quinn stared at Ulrich, obviously stunned. "You're working with the Seraph? When did you become a rat? Don't you know you can't trust the law?"

Can't trust the law. Can't trust Thackeray. But Ulrich did, almost implicitly, and he'd always gone on that gut feeling before. Why are we trying to tear down Kryta? Divinity's Reach? The world falls apart, and we attack her defenders…our defenders. It's not right. We're not right.

"I trust Thackeray more than Two-Blade." Ulrich proclaimed, secure in that sudden truth. "Come on. You wouldn't help stab one person, why would you help poison dozens? Be smart for once. Lay low until Thackeray makes his move and Pete's either dead or in prison." Surely Quinn had to be able to figure this one out. Just like Ulrich, he didn't have the heart to be this, to do this. Quinn needed a small house on a farm, a busty wife, a handful of children tripping him up, not this.

"But I…but I…I…uh, you're right." Quinn breathed, staring at the floor. "Listen." He caught Ulrich's eyes with his own steady brown ones, "Thanks for saving me. I'll do what you say, and hole up until all this blows over. And hey, thanks again."

He headed for the stairs, and then faded back, a stunned, caught look on his face. "Thackeray." He murmured, his complexion paling. Ulrich sighed, squeezing by him and descending the steps. Sure enough, Thackeray, and a woman that Ulrich could not place. She breathed nobility from every pore, and suddenly Ulrich wished he had not been so bold in coming down here… this was one of the rare circumstances in which Quinn had it right. Unfortunately both Thackeray and the stranger had seen his approach, and both turned towards him expectantly, leaving him no choice but to keep going.

"We heard the commotion, but it looks like you took care of it." Logan began, stepping to the side so that his bulk did not eclipse the woman's view of Ulrich. "Please allow me to introduce Countess Anise, Advisor to the Royal Court and Master Exemplar of the Shining Blade. What happened here?"

Yes, hiding on the landing behind Quinn definitely sounded like the better idea at that moment. He glanced deferentially at the woman, a little surprised when she smiled back. She was regal, dark red hair, pale skin, and the oddest pair of ears he'd ever seen in his life. She stood about a hand taller than he did, her thin body garbed in black and blue finery. He was relieved, if he found her more attractive than he did, it would difficult to treat her as she needed to be treated… Those were all real titles, heavy titles. The sort of titles that pulled Thackeray's leash back.

"The apothecary's safe, but Pete's gang got away with a lot of poisonous rhizome powder." Not exactly the news he wanted to bring, and both of them sent him almost identical stares. He sighed, he really did not want to end this day with the Captain of the Queen's guard, and Her personal advisor, both giving him that disturbed and distressed look. "I feel responsible; I couldn't stop them in time. Let me help you deal with it." If only he'd gone after the bag at the beginning, he could have stopped this. But no, he'd let himself get caught up with the idea of saving Quinn, again, and had let it slip through his fingers.

Some of the glower lightened from Logan's expression, and he nodded in relief. "Certainly. If you can find out when and where they plan to use the poison, we can shut Two-Blade Pete down for good."

Ulrich fought the sigh back, and kept his head straight against a sudden urge to shake it. He'd shown his true colors. "Pete's gang knows I was here. When none of his people return from this job, he'll be out for my blood." He had just run through his use to the Seraph, and to Thackeray. He was an idiot, a fool…

The countess smiled as if he'd said it aloud, "Don't worry." She soothed, "My magic can disguise you as a common bandit. You can walk among them and they'll never know it's you."

Ulrich wondered just what she thought he was, if she thought becoming a 'common bandit' was a change for him. But if he wasn't recognizable as the exact common bandit that he was, he was willing to give it a try. It wasn't like he had a whole lot of choices. Pete was after him and Quinn as well. And if he could no longer be the Seraph's rat, what use was he to them?

"We'll give you the location of their hideout." Now, that was sad. They had a hideout that Ulrich didn't know the existence of, much less its location, but Thackeray did. Pete was just doing a fantastic job here. "It's dangerous, but if you're willing, I know you can handle it."

Easy for the armor plated mountain to proclaim, but Ulrich had his doubts. But there really was only one choice for him. This had to end, or he'd spend the rest of his short life looking over his shoulder for the inevitable assassin. "Consider it done. I want to put Two-Blade Pete out of business even more than you do."

The countess smiled, an honest, decent smile. Ulrich couldn't remember the last time a woman had smiled at him like that, if ever. It certainly hadn't been since he'd become the almost adult that he was now. Even Alice didn't, there was always the edge of sharp distance that she kept them all at. Not that he blamed her, but he was tired of being treated like he was inherently untrustworthy. "Very well, then. I'll cast it on you now, but the disguise won't activate until you're close to the bandit headquarters."

"Here's a map of Queensdale." Logan unfolded a square of vellum from a pouch at his side and peered at intently for a moment. "When you're ready, head to this location." There was a small red circle penned on the shore of Lake Delavan, southeast of Divinity's Reach, and Ulrich nodded. He'd never been there, but he had been to the graveyard that overlooked those cliffs several times. "My scouts tell me Pete's men are hiding there. You'll be on your own, so be careful. Happy hunting."

Ulrich watched them go, feeling Quinn's stare boring into the back of his head. When they were well out of sight, Ulrich turned to him, "What?" He demanded, already knowing. He was in deep. Way too deep. He didn't need Quinn to tell him that.

Except…Quinn was smirking. Widely. "I'll tell you, short stuff. When you decide to rat, you do it in a big way. You have Captain Thackeray introducing the head of the Shining Blade to you. How'd you pull that one off?"

"Long story."

"You've been busy." He chuckled, "Good luck, I'm going to go find a hole to hide in…" Quinn rested a hand on Ulrich's shoulder, gave it a quick squeeze. "Be careful, Ulrich." He muttered before he moved off after Thackeray, leaving Ulrich alone, in a deepening twilight, outside of the apothecary's house. He could sense the old woman watching him, and he half turned to give her a lopsided smile.

"They left you." She noted, stepping onto the stoop. "Come on in. I owe you my life; the least I can give you is a meal and a nice cot for the night."

It was a good meal and a nice cot, and Ulrich slept better than he had for ages, waking up just after dawn. His scepter was propped up against the end of the cot, ready to go. He sat up, stiff, but a lot of the pain had faded. The bruise was edged with amber and green, and the black had paled. Overall, it looked as if he was going to survive…that, at least. The fool's errand that he had volunteered for with Thackeray's full support, possibly not.

He sighed, shaking his head. He'd lost his mind sometime in the past two weeks, he really had. When he'd gone looking for a change in his life, he'd been expecting something smaller than this. Working his way gradually up to the point where personages on Thackeray's level, on the Countess's level, might just have reason to notice his existence. The old woman was nowhere to be seen when he moved to the door, although he was fairly certain he'd heard her up and around before him. He let himself out, closing the door tightly behind him, took one last look at the map that Thackeray had given him, and headed out.