Deep in the centre of the city, like the festered core of an apple determined even after all this time sat the crumbling remains of the tower itself. To say no rat ever went there would be lying. But any who did even those who were there to conduct repairs on the ancient foundation of Rattropolis chose not to linger over long.

There was a feeling in that place that most rats instinctively shied away from, but some was not all. The old tower did tend to attract a certain kind of individual. Ones almost as rotten as the tower’s first masters, and today they were holding a council.

The gathered residents were to put it politely a motley array of the cities criminal elements, yet all were impeccably dressed, and had clearly made an effort to present the facade that shielded them. Respectable business rodents birds, and other concerned individuals who gathered to have a polite discussion about the fate of the city going forward. Nothing like policy of course, they wouldn’t dream of interfering with policy, (seriously, why do something that you know will get you in trouble when you can pay a string of fools to bribe a string of other fools who would on the outside have nothing whatsoever to do with you. That was the proper way to do business.)

At a seat at the head of the table, a most unnatural position for any typical Rattropolis rat, sat two rodents of even more unusual size than the typical, with silver coats. The Grey twins, (legend had it they were originally a litter of fifteen, but the twins didn’t even wait until they were free of their mother before taking care of the competition, and looking at the stony cold expressions on these two it was easy to believe it.

A nervous looking twitchy fellow gradually made his way over to the table, usually he would not be welcomed here, and right now looking at the twins he really wished that were still the case. But today nobody stopped him, as he came forward and reverentially placed an item that reeked of mana on the table in front of them.

“Wot’s this then? it don’ look like the money ya owe us.” Said Buttons Grey, eying the item with obvious contempt.

“That is doesn’t Buttons” Veggie said “I think he’s taking us for muppets, do we look like the idiots you con down on the market square?”

“N-n-on sir, dat there is primo goods see, a gen-uw-wine wizards tower artifact.”

“And where do you expect us to flog that? Eh? You know the tower watch have been keeping an eye on the merchandise lately, and there’s no way I’m running somefing like that, it’s bad for business when the guard come poking around see?”

“Please sir it’s all I could scrape, just give me a few days.”

“If I listen to every soft ‘arted sob story that comes in ‘ere treating me like a soft touch then I’ll be out of business filcher, are you taking me for a mug? Ey Veggie is he treating me like a mug?”

“You know wot Buttons, much as it breaks my ‘art to see such disrespect from those I ‘ave shown every kindness I believe ‘e is.”

“It’s tragic Veggie, it really really is. To fink there would come a day when I would be treated with such disrespect. Any idea what I should do about this Veg?”

“That’s a tough choice Buttons, so many choices, maybe a swim in the mana pools?”

At that Filcher started whimpering nervously. The mana pools were definitely not swim safe unless you really liked the idea of a second head, of course to some in the underground that suited them just fine. Especially those who liked a fight. But such modifications were trouble. The guard really disliked citizens choosing to randomly mutate themselves. Which of course was the only way incidents like that ever happened according to most of them. Such accidents as accidentally walking into a knife in a dark room which happened to be perfectly positioned for optimum organ perforation. Or forgetting to remove your padlocked weighted shoes before a swim (apparently a common mistake, it seemed weighted paw wear was quite the trend in areas the guards didn’t wish to go.) Or maybe they just got lost in the big cat enclosure at the zoo. It was always natural causes on reports, after all if you annoyed the Grey twins then naturally you would have an unfortunate accident.

“Or maybe Veg we should give them a hamster trim.”

That got Filcher really wailing, as a rat one of their main points of pride was a long tail. But the Greys had a friend, Miss Falmerswyfe, who was rather a dab hand with a carving knife. If he wanted to keep his tail he needed to think fast, and usually mortal terror is a pretty good motivational factor.

“Stop that whimpering before I give you something to really cry about, show some backbone.”

“I HAVE INFORMATION” Filcher yelled desperately, “and it’s totally worth my tab”

“Alright then, you ‘ave our attention, but this had better be good or Miss Falmerswyfe will ‘ave a new wall ornament, am I clear?”

“Yes sir, and this is primo info, did you know we have royal guests right now?”

“Royal guests you say? ‘ow is intel on some poncy duke worth what you owe eh?”

“It aint no duke sir. It’s the Crown Princess of the entire kingdom, the Saintess herself.”

“Pull the other one Filcher it’s got bells on.”

“I’m serious sirs, saw her with my own two eyes, and her crew taking care of a few of those bloody Jackalopes outside, she ‘ad guards who were calling her Princess and everything.”

“Hmmm for once you might have just brough’ me somefing useful Filcher, about time your worthless hide stopped screwing up. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Filcher turned and made a run for it, he got two whole steps before a crossbow bolt hit him, it seemed Veggie had changed his mind.