Ouef patted his skitterer, who chittered in appreciation.
It had given him lots of information, more than the Guild knew, anyhow. And with his mind clear of grog. . .
Ouef may be a regular at the Tavern, but he had his moments of clarity.
When he did his job.
He snuck away to Ripto's palace, ready with information, about the dragon, and who brought it to their realm.
He brought his robbed hands up, stifling a giggle.
Oh, this would be good.
Moneybags smoothed hud head fur, straightened his lapels.
Ripto, ruler of Avalar, had called him - no, commanded he have an audience with him. He wondered what it could be about.
While Ripto turned a blind eye to his. . .entrepreneurship, he certainly wasn't unaware of it.
Would he require his skills? His treasures?
He couldn't think of any reason he would be in trouble, after all.
He was ushered into the castle by a Rynoc guard. Upon entering the hall, he mustered up as much decorum as he could, and gave a bow. "Your most esteemed, wise, powerful highness, thank you for such a gracious invitation. How could I be of assistance?" He kept low, raising his eyes in order to appear the humble servent.
Ripto wasn't large; well, he wasn't tall. Squat, but powerful. Even though he was more reptilian than draconic, his eyes still slit in a similar manner. But the dinosaur's power was vastly different. He was stocky, his entire reddish body strong; his jaws could easily crush someone's windpipe.
But he much preferred different methods.
"Tell me, bear; what is my kingdom's law on dragons?"
He stopped right in front of Moneybags, who rose gingerly. "That all things draconic in nature, including dragons themselves, are to be destroyed, and never should such things be brought into the kingdom."
Even though Moneybags was taller than Ripto, he felt smaller than him. This was an emperor, a conqueror. It didn't matter the whispered rumors, that his back was a melted mass of flesh beneath his cloak. The fact that he was an enemy of dragons and alive was testament enough.
A tap of the staff. "Very good." Ripto began pacing slowly - more of a prowl. "You know the law, you recite it to me clearly. So tell me: why have you brought a dragon into my kingdom?"
Moneybags' paws twitched. "A- a dragon, my lord? I know of no such thing."
Ripto smiled; it was closed, dangerous. "Oh? Then why has my informant told me differently?"
Here was a dangerous game; he. He could continue to lie, or fess up. Either outcome was bad.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the aristocrat tried pleading, "Sire, I don't know what your informant has told you, but perhaps he was mistaken? I can swear-"
"Swear? Oh, I'll give you something to swear about," Ripto's eyes were lit with an inner fire, and a malicious grin grew. "For now you shall be confined to the dungeons, until I can think of a proper punishment for such an atrocious act. Guards," he turned, waving a dismissive hand, "please take care of this beast."
Moneybags couldn't even choke out a protest; strong paws gripped his throat and upper arms.
As he was hauled away, Ripto's voice echoed after him: "Oh? And Moneybags? You better hope they find and kill that dragon, otherwise your death will be much, much worse."
All that was left was dark laughter, as he was dragged to the dungeons.