The Gruntmaster.
"I do not like this place," Norda commented as the group weaved their way through a busy tavern on the outskirts of the city. Usually such a comment might have come from Marina, though now she appeared indifferent. They almost seemed to have done a complete circle since their arrival in this strange land though the tavern was not the same.
"I know," Damon agreed, stroking the cat that had stretched out across his shoulders, "but the assassin's guild is our best chance at sneaking into Lauthal's tower." He said the words assassin's guild in a much softer, quieter voice than the rest. This tavern may be the front for the secretive guild, and most knew it, but any members nearby would not appreciate the claim being publicly vocalised and would quite likely take to rearranging some faces in retribution.
"Are you certain they'll help us?" Ridley double checked, following the bard through the rambunctious crowd. If the Devil's Grin had been busy, this place was worse. If the Devil's Grin had been loud, this place was easily worse. And if the Devil's Grin had been bustling with a dangerous looking crowd, this place was definitely worse.
"Lauthal's business deals with the assassin's guild is well known, so they should know her castle well. Plus, the assassin's guild does not work out of loyalty, they work out of money."
A roar of approval rang out to the right of the group where a great bunch of burly men had gathered to eagerly greet a weary bruised man as he left an enclosed circular area to rejoin the crowd. Inside the enclosed space a second man lay passed out on the floor, bloodied, as a few others looked on dispassionately. Everyone made their best effort to ignore it and concentrate on their current mission.
"We don't have any money," Elwood pointed out, grunting.
"They don't know that," Damon hastily counteracted.
"Well, what if the Empress pays them more?" Norda said intelligently, though Damon didn't appear as concerned as he didn't even skip a beat in replying.
"Don't worry, I have a plan, I know what I'm doing," he leaned across the bar without meeting the bartender's gaze but glancing around the room suspiciously.
"I'm not here for the ale, if you catch my drift," he addressed the bartender, who grimaced and nodded towards a dark, but graying, haired man seated in the far corner between two standing burly looking guards. He did not appear overly shifty, like a thief, but twistedly cruel and mean. He had a handsome enough face, but there was something cold and incisive in his eyes. He was watching another fight in the circular arena with amusement and, deceptively, appeared unaware of the goings on in the bar around him.
"That was a little too easy, wasn't it?" Norda said but Damon appeared delighted and headed eagerly towards the fellow that had been pointed out to them, the others trailing along behind. Damon seated himself at the same table as the man and sat there silently, the black cat around his shoulders jumping down. Damon had recognised it was not up to him to initiate conversation. Here, only the guildmaster called the shots.
After several long minutes of watching the fight, the guildmaster finally spoke, without looking at Damon.
"I m still trying to decide why you think I would help you," he admitted coldly. His information network must be very good, if he were to know already the reasons for their being here. Damon smiled grimly.
"Consider the long term, Tokius - is it, I believe," he replied and the assassin guildmaster finally turned to look at Damon with those piercing eyes that often made normal folk feel increasingly uncomfortable. Even Damon twitched a little under the gaze.
"The long term?"
"That s right," Damon encouraged, "so you know why I'm here, then you also know Lauthal has the dragon's breath. Now that she has that kind of power, do you really think the Empress needs your help? Or that she'd be willing to pay for it? Let's be honest, whilst the Empress is relatively weak, you've got business she'll pay you to spy on and annoy her sister. But not anymore, she'll probably handle the situation personally, from now on." Tokius appeared to consider the suggestion thoughtfully with his deep dark eyes.
"Perhaps we can make a deal," he suggested cunningly to the thief, "I'll help you, if you will perform one other task for me." He stroked the side of his face with a long pointed index finger.
"Anything," Damon agreed, leaning back with ease in his chair. He felt victorious he'd known his powers of persuasion were good, but he'd still expected this to take a little bit longer. In mild amusement, Tokius looked towards the fighting pit where another warrior was currently being named victor.
"One of you must fight in the pit," he named his terms.
"The pit?" Damon looked towards the circle where yet another combatant lay moaning on the floor, blood gashing from an open wound. Suddenly the thief felt a lot less sure of himself.
Tokius nodded, "If you win, I sneak you into the castle. Hell, I'll even restore your little animal back to its imp form. If you lose..." He purposely didn't say what happened then. Damon hesitated, trying to think of something he could use as a bargaining chip to get out of such an action.
"I'll do it," Ridley finally agreed from behind him, before Damon could think of something. Damon felt slightly agitated, but at least it saved him the recognition that he probably wasn't going to think of something anyway.
"No, I'll do it," the dark-haired thief disagreed with a sigh, rising from his seat. After all, he was the one who had made the bargain.
"What the hell," the assassin guildmaster said in amusement, "let them both into the ring. They'll need it... in a battle to the death "
"To the death?" Damon queried in a more fearful voice, but was immediately hurried forward by the guards, with Ridley, towards the ring. It was too late now to change one's mind. Tokius rose up out of his chair and lifted a mug of ale in toast.
"Friends!" he addressed the rough crowd of the tavern loudly, and everyone was immediately quiet, "today I have for you some very special entertainment. Two of our most, esteemed, guests have agreed to fight, in the pit, the Gruntmaster!" There was a roar of excited cheers at his announcement, and everyone in the bar lifted their own ales to toast the occasion, most of them immediately downing the entire mug. Tokius seated himself once again with a pleased look upon his face.
"The Gruntmaster?" Ridley questioned in disbelief, half addressing Damon as they were pushed into the ring and the door slammed shut behind them. They looked around the empty ring together.
"Don't worry," Damon hissed back, "it's just some name they attached to one of the warriors. He's probably some thin, weedy guy light on his feet and quick with his weapon though. But there's two of us, and only one of him." He was partially trying to convince himself.
"There s only one rule in the ring, fellas," Tokius called to them from his table, positioned so that he'd get the best possible view of the action in the ring, "kill the opponent before you leave the ring." At the far end of the ring, where it met the wall, a large metal gate began to slowly rise. Damon and Ridley peered at it in concern as the crowd began to cheer loudly again.
"What if they do try to leave the ring?" Marina asked Tokius detachedly, sitting herself in the empty chair Damon had left behind and leaned toward him slightly to hear his reply whilst keeping an eye on the ring. The rest of the group continued to stand away, their emotions keeping them from wanting to have anything to do with the unfavourable assassin guildmaster.
"Oh," Tokius replied, his lip twitching in amusement, "you don't want to know what happens then." He continued to watch the ring, and at that moment, the gate at the far end finally finished rising. There was a noisy grunt and then, to the surprise of Ridley and Damon, a large cyclops carrying an equally giant spiked club stepped out into the arena. He swung his wooden club and roared angrily, to the great excitement of the tavern crowd.
"Thin and weedy..." Ridley repeated back to Damon incredulously.
"Or," Damon agreed, worried, "Gruntmaster could be big, and hairy, and smelly... Serves me right for thinking assassins could be original," he added under his breath, then, "Well, you know what they say! They bigger they are, the harder they fall!" Immediately he drew his sword with a sigh and charged the giant beast.
Whatever Damon had thought he'd be able to accomplish attacking the ogre in such a fashion, he had no time to achieve it. With one swing of his enormous club, the cyclop smashed his weapon into the thief and sent him flying into the opposite wall of the ring, knocked unconscious.
It was easily enough to bring Ridley to his senses. Suddenly it was just him, and the giant creature, mano o mano, or perhaps, mano o monster.
He gulped and brought out his own sword. It rang loudly as he did so, the dragon's eye fused with the hilt glowing brightly. He had to think about his advantages, Ridley told himself. Ogres were generally big, and dim, and slow. They relied on brawn, pure strength, and size. He had to outsmart, and probably outdodge, the creature. It swung its club again, at him, and Ridley hastily ducked out of the way.
He lashed out at the legs of the cyclops, cutting a gash, though not one that was particularly deep. The ogre roared in pain and followed the thief around with his club, not quite fast enough to smash the thief.
Ridley, puffing, wondered how he was going to keep up with all this and began to realise it was more likely that the giant would wear him out first. At the far corner, Damon moaned softly as the ogre's club thwacked violently into the wall nearby whilst the creature tried to squash the annoying bug darting around his legs.
This was getting them nowhere. The crowd roared with laughter at the antics, and Tokius pursed his lips in twisted pleasure. Somebody in the crowd suddenly shouted out a word excitedly, and then everyone in the tavern was chanting it "Blood! Blood! Blood!" Norda looked around in disgust, though Marina was not worried, and even Elwood grunted displeasedly. The people in this tavern not only put up with, and even encouraged this practice, but they actually enjoyed, with intense enthusiasm, the sight of another's pain.
Just as it looked like Ridley was tiring, there was a terrible screech and something small and furry pitched itself, flying through the air, at the head of the creature. Tokius stood up in concerned surprise as a small black cat ravaged the single eye of the cyclops, all the while shrieking strange feline obscenities.
The ogre, in shock, fumbled backwards and then, stupidly, raised his enormous club and sent it crushing forward towards the tiny creature. This, of course, turned out to be a big mistake, as the cat happened to be plastered across the cyclops' face at the time.
At the last minute, the Jereez/Chase feline threw itself from the ogre's face to land, with perfect grace, in the circular ring. The cyclops' giant club smashed into his own face with immense force. For a moment, it looked extremely stunned, and then it fell backwards, landing with an amazing thump having knocked itself unconscious.
Ridley, realising he was no longer being pursued, looked at the cyclops in surprise. Raising his sword over the giant, he looked towards the guildmaster, hoping he would not have to complete the deed. Tokius growled angrily.
"Enough!" he roared through the stunned silence of the crowd, and continued through gritted teeth, "let them out of the ring."
"But you said the only rule was that you couldn't leave witho..." Marina began innocently but was immediately cut off.
"I changed my mind!" Tokius snapped. Marina looked confused, as though she couldn't understand why, as Tokius waved an arm to the guards who opened the ring and herded the dazed Damon and victorious Ridley from the arena. One of them stepped forward to try and pick up the cat but it snarled and hissed, lashing out at him violently, and he opted to leave it instead. There was an audible groan from the crowd those who had obviously believed the Gruntmaster to be a sure bet, and had now lost their money, and the chance for blood.
"Are you going to help us, then?" Ridley verbally pushed the assassin guildmaster as he was brushed forcefully in front of Tokius angry glare. Damon was dumped in a slumped position outside the ring, still trying to bring himself to awareness.
Tokius seethed for a moment before replying, "I do not go back on my word!"
"But you just changed your mind about the..." Marina began again.
"Silence!" Tokius roared, stopping her, then seated himself back in his chair more calmly, he continued, "I'll have one of my men lead you through the hidden passageways of the castle in the early hours. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest. Lauthal will not simply give away the Breath, after all that she's done to acquire it."
Ridley nodded, and was glad that he had won, though he was not certain that saying it was all due to a cat made him appear a greater fighter.
"I believe you owe us something else," Norda added from nearby, referring to Tokius promise regarding Jereez. Tokius looked at the mangled creature in distaste.
"Ah yes," he said and ushered forward a small maidservant, carrying a round wooden bowl. She placed the bowl on the ground, next to the cat, who immediately began eating the light powder inside, getting some stuck on its whiskers. The cat's form shimmered for a moment, and then Jereez was standing behind it, not looking particularly impressed. The cat continued to munch down the fae dust.
"How do you get to trade with the fae!" Jereez accused the guildmaster, who smiled wryly and shrugged, apparently not wishing to divulge how he came across his own supply of fae dust. Jereez gave him her own distasteful look and turned, hurrying toward the drooping figure of Damon behind.
She kneeled over him, her face an expression of intense anxiety, "Are you ok?" Damon blinked and tried to rise his spinning head. He could feel one of those terrible hangovers coming on the type that only happened when one had been drunk enough the night before, so that they couldn't remember what they'd done, or when one was hit straight on by the oversized bommey-knocker of an odorous one-eyed giant.
He looked at Jereez through bleary eyes, the world spinning sharply to the right as he did so, "I'm fine, as if you care." Jereez bit her bottom lip lightly and lifted the thief's chin with her fingers, and ran a small hand across his face gently, so as not to cause him pain from the cuts and bruises inflicted by the ogre's club.
"Of course I care," she told him tenderly and then, to the bard's immense surprise, pressed her lips to his. For a brief moment it occurred to Damon that Jereez must have overheard his conversation with the elf Norda, back in the cave, when he'd thought they were alone, but any concern about it quickly died away.
"How touching," Tokius commented in disgust from the table, standing again, and promptly stalked off into the tavern.
