“Well this is exactly what I had in mind when you told us all to lay low,” Skrakch said sarcastically as he took a seat at the stained wooden table. Upon leaving the sewers, it had taken less than ten minutes before one of Zach’s contacts had gotten in touch with him to tell Skrakch that he was needed at the Plagued Rat.

Winnie was already there and waiting for him, looking a lot better than when he’d last seen her. Most of the wounds she’d gained from the fight had healed and only a couple of them had left behind scars. The crass fighter was sipping her ale seemingly without a care in the world. She’d shed the usual metal-enhanced leather armour and was instead wearing her typical ‘day off’ clothes, consisting of a men’s cotton tunic and pants.

Conversely to her more understated look, Zach of course was all about showing off his so-called physical assets. With tight linen pants and a revealing blood-red jacket that showed off way too much of his furless chest, the Halfling looked ready for a night on the town, aside from the massive bandage he had covering half his face.

Not that it seemed to affect his ability to chat up everything and everyone he laid eyes on, the ‘playboy’ deep in conversation with one of the serving wenches. The poor girl was obviously new, not yet used to the Halfling’s wily ways. She seemed utterly captivated by his attention, idly playing with her auburn hair as if entranced.

As soon as the Halfling saw Skrakch sit down, however, he swiftly lost all interest in his potiential conquest and hurried over to the table, his face momentarily souring when he noticed Meekknuckle hauling himself up onto one of the stools.

For once, Skrakch had actually let Meek follow him up to the city. The Goblin no doubt had designs on finding himself some of the foul cheese he was partial to. Skrakch was more interested in the fact that he’d brought Ornn along. It was quite fun to see the chatter in the pub abruptly end as all eyes turned towards the stone goliath. Skrakch figured that if anyone from Rodyr’s estate did lurk around the Plagued Rat, one look at Ornn and they wouldn’t be coming anywhere near them.

The clientele of the tavern was accustomed to odder sights, and it wasn’t long before the curious trio were once more ignored in favor of booze and conversation. Ignoring Skrakch and co., Meekknuckle was quick to wander off to stare wide-eyed at the tavern’s clearly uncomfortable bard. Having a Goblin stare at you was never a good thing, much less when a massive golem looms over you both, as Ornn followed Meekknuckle studiously.

“Some things in life are more important than laying low Squeakers,” Zach said when Skrakch repeated his concerns to the Halfling. “Namely, great business opportunities!”

“Oh aye? More food tokens?” Winifred replied sarcastically. Skrakch snickered at her. As disgusting as he found all Humans, Winifred was up there on his list of people that he found tolerable.

“Dragon’s blood actually,” Zach answered sarcastically with a couldn’t-care-less shrug. He grinned widely when he saw Winifred’s body language change from slumped over done-with-your-shit to rigid and intrigued. “Thought that might get your attention.” He added with a chuckle.

“And what’s that got to do with me?” Skrakch asked. He’d never cared a jot about Zach's side hustle before. Skrakch had never really understood the lure of the stuff. Why bother wasting your coin on something that wears off after an hour or two when you can use that coin to stock up on ingredients and create something worth using? After all, it wasn’t Dragon’s Blood that got him out of that Grey Iskrin situation. No. It was his own sleeping draught!

“Well Squeakers, this is going to be a team effort,” Zach explained grandly. He leaned back in his chair and looked mightily proud of himself. “It just so happens that I was in this very pub a couple of nights ago-”

“Laying low obviously,” Skrakch interrupted with a roll of his eyes.

“And while I was whetting my whistle with some ale, I heard two people having an interesting chat in the corner,” Zach continued, ignoring the interruption. He paused, obviously expecting some kind of interest or intrigue.

“Oh aye, people in a pub talking, Surely not!” Winnie cuts in, her tone heavily sarcastic. Skrakch glanced at her, it was obvious from the way she was still leaning forward that she was interested but trying her hardest to seem aloof.

“They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were,” Zach smirked, rubbing his hands together. “I heard them talking about a supply route that’s been dead for years…except rumor has it that it’s home to a big stash. The sort of stash that could set us up for life!”

“And let me guess, you want to get your filthy mitts on it?” Skrakch asked in his best bored voice. While he may not be into drugs, he knew how much Dragon’s Blood would fetch on the market. Still, no reason to appear overly eager, it was never a good idea to seem too interested in the Halfling’s ideas.

“Got it in one mate,” Zach replied, raising his tankard to Skrakch and taking a sip. “It’s a guaranteed gold mine!”

“Like your last one?” Skrakch sneered. “As fun as that adventure was, the payoff was not worth the throats I clawed out,” He added. He’d still not Managed to shift his share of the bloody food tokens. They weren’t a sought-after commodity at all. Not even in The Slums. He was getting close to just throwing them out.

While the Tomb-Makers would make good on serving bread in exchange for the tokens, the damned undead running the Bakery didn’t have a good grasp on the concept of freshness. The last time Skrakch had been desperate enough to eat some, the bread had nearly as much mold on it than dough.

“I’m nae in a rush to get me arse beat again,” Winifred interjected, drawing Skrakch out of his musings. “And anyway, if this stash is so big, why has nae-one else gotten wind of it, eh?”

“But Winnie my dear, isn’t your supply running low?” Zach asks, smiling at her when she involuntarily winced. “And you know how you get when you don’t have any…”

Skrakch watched as Winifred fought an internal battle with herself. As much as he might try, he really couldn’t find it within himself to feel sorry for her. Drugs were a fool’s game. Winifred and Zach were always telling him that chasing his Chosen dream was ridiculous yet he, Skrakch, felt superior in the knowledge that he wasn’t a slave to some liquid in a vial.

Dragon’s Blood was just another fetid layer in the decomposing onion that was Humankind. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Dragon’s blood didn’t seem to have an effect on Ratlings...

“Well this is all well and good but what exactly do I get out of it?” Skrakch piped up. “You deal it, she takes it. Where does that leave me?”

“Oh Squeakers,” Zach shook his head mockingly. “If only your brains were as big as your bollocks! From what I heard, that stash is huge. We’re talking hundreds, maybe thousands of gold in product. Once we start selling, the money’s just gonna roll in. Even me with my street smarts couldn’t shift that much on my own and, as much as she wanted to, even if she lived to a hundred, Winnie couldn’t drink it all!”

“And yer nae plannin’ on giving any of it to Sykes?” Winifred asks. She takes a deep drink from her tankard before gratefully taking a pie from a nearby serving wench. Skrakch watched as she bit into it, not caring that some of the gravy dribbled down her chin. “Have ye lost yer wee head?” She asked, mouth full of dubious meat.

“Oh well, this just gets better and better!” Skrakch spat sarcastically. Zach was honestly going to save the whole lot for himself and not even shift some of it Sykes’ way? Sykes was the biggest dealer in Dray’Mel and utterly untouchable. Everyone knew that. He was a well-known fighter himself, having worked his way up from the pits.

Worse yet, he was famous for more then using his fists, no, Sykes was famous in Dray’Mel for his command over magic as well. And as one of the largest drug pushers in The Slums, he had practically an entire horde of bodyguards who were more than willing to lay down their lives for him. Drugs were a fool’s game but cheating Sykes out of product? That was just pure insanity.

“Look,” Zach lowered his voice and leaned in. “Sykes doesn’t need to know. The bastard has enough dosh already and I’m getting mighty sick of hauling my arse all over town selling his shit while he sits back and reaps the rewards. So he gets a little bit of competition in the Dragon Blood market? He won’t give a shite. He’s loaded! And who knows? Maybe his bodyguards won’t be so loyal when they find out there’s more money elsewhere, perhaps with the up-and-coming Halfling they’re hearing about on the grapevine,”

“Fine, fine,” Skrakch waved a paw dismissively, done with Zach’s fabulist nonsense. “As long as I get paid,” He added with a shrug. He highly doubted that Zach was about to become Dray’Mel’s next drug baron anytime soon but a new adventure brought more than the promise of monetary gain.

Where there was danger, there was a chance to prove himself. And a chance to prove himself meant another shot at becoming Chosen. As always, Skrakch kept his eyes on the prize. “I’m in,” He continued, flagging down a serving wench for another ale. “Plus, Sykes has always creeped me out. He looks at me like he wants to eat me.”

“Aye, and here ye both are forgetting the important bit,” Winifred said, wiping the excess gravy from her mouth with her sleeve. “Where the bloody hell is this fantastic stash? Not under some noble’s lock and key again?”

Zach winced slightly, obviously still touchy about the food token debacle. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before shrugging and grinning.

“That’s the thing. It’s in the Undead District…”

The three of them fell silent for a moment, staring down at their tankards. Winifred shook her head in disbelief.

“Well, fuck.”