“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to make it look good,” Sauvage said.

The ratkin had apparently done some time in an acting troupe and knew a thing or two about stage makeup. Gunnar had suggested using red paint for a fake rash, which had elicited a furious protest from the small creature.

“First, we need to know what sort of plague we are trying to replicate,” Sauvage said.

Gunnar shrugged. “Something nasty. Open sores and that sort of thing.”

Rorak sighed and shook his head. “Our best bet at chaos is to prey on unfounded fears within this part of the world.”

“Yeah?” Gunnar asked. “What sort of fears?”

“I hate that I’m saying this, but goblins are not exactly known for their cleanliness.”

“You don’t say?” Sauvage jabbed.

“A few years ago, a small goblin society was overrun with something called the Red Runs.”

“I shudder to ask,” Gunnar said, “but what the hell was that?”

Rorak’s greenish face turned a gushing shade of red. “It was, er… fecal in nature.”

“Fecal?” Kid Killer asked.

“Feces,” Rorak said.

“Shit, he means,” Gunnar added.

“I know what feces is!”

Rorak grimaced. “The long and short of it is this particular goblin colony did not properly deal with waste. They’d drop trou in the street, wouldn’t wash up. And something began to spread among the colony.”

“My god,” Sauvage said.

“It began with bloody diarrhea,” Rorak continued, “then a rash that spread out from the… well, you know. This led to itching, naturally, which led to open sores and really nasty infections. But the whole thing spread by hand, because of the whole not washing thing. It wiped out the whole colony.”

Gunnar had to fight a little to maintain his composure at the unfortunate phrasing.

“There hasn’t been a wide outbreak anywhere since, but goblins everywhere get harassed about whether they’re hands are clean or whether they’ve sufficiently wiped, not that wiping really had anything to do with it. It was the washing that was the problem. Sometimes goblins get called Red Runners.”

“Unfortunate for your kind,” Gunnar finally said, “but this actually sounds perfect for our purposes.”

***

The three crews dispersed into the city as soon as their ship tethered at the docks. Niall headed north, and Em set out to the west. Gunnar found a shop that sold makeup, and sent Kid Killer in with a list that Sauvage provided, while the others retrieved some other items from a local grocer.

They met in an alley along the waterfront at dusk, and Kid Killer laid out a series of makeup items, which did, in fact, include some red dye.

“See, I wasn’t that far off with the paint,” Gunnar said.

Sauvage just rolled his eyes and began mixing pastes and dyes and powders in various bowls that Rorak had picked up from a kitchenware shop.

“I was thinking cards,” Gunnar said.

Rorak nodded. “Good, sailors and dockhands love gambling, and a few games and everyone will have had contact with my hands in one way or another.”

“Maybe you could order up some food to share around,” Gunnar added. “After they’ve come to like you or something.”

“Not a bad idea,” Rorak said. “If there’s time.”

Kid Killer had his arms crossed. “You sure we can’t come up with some other way? We could cause a bar fight or something.”

“It’s harder than you’d think to scale,” Gunnar said. “Most people try tot avoid fighting. Sure, people will watch a couple Joes brawling, but we need something widespread.”

“Oh, this’ll spread, heheh.” Sauvage was now mixing up a dark brown paste in a large bowl and dropped a handful of bright red seeds, which reminded Gunnar of pomegranates or something. The ratkin mashed a few, and red streaks spread into the mixture.

“Well, why can’t I be one of the card players or something?” Kid Killer said.

Gunnar shook his head. “Nah, I think this’ll land better.”

“For you, maybe.”

“Besides, you might even get a punch in, this way.”

Sauvage set his bowl of fake bloody excrement aside and motioned to Kid Killer. “All right, Patient Zero. It’s time to get you good and infected.”

“Come on, man, there’s gotta be another—”

“Enough,” Gunnar said. “This is gonna be fun. Think of it as the ultimate prank.”

Kid Killer looked like he was going to die from embarrassment, but after a few more protests, he sat down in front of the ratkin and held out his hands.

“Oh, it spreads by hand,” Sauvage said. “But that’s not going to make our show. We need the real visual experience. I’m gonna need you to lay face down, and er… pull down your pants.”

“Ah, come on, man!”

Sauvage chuckled with maybe a little too much glee. “I’m going to give them the best ass rash they’ve ever seen.”

***

With their final preparations complete, the Beta Squad made their way across the waterfront district of Mavenport. Gunnar and Rorak took the lead, remaining together, since they would be the first part of the act. Hoods up, Sauvage and Kid Killer kept close, though they each kept enough distance to not appear as companions.

After much inspection, Gunnar settled on a pub called Spawn’s Death Trap. It was not the only pub named after the ominous stormy region of the sea, but this one was good and large, right in between the two guard towers they were targeting, and sounded like just the sort of seedy hub that suspicious sailors might frequent.

The streets of Mavenport were impressively clean, even along the waterfront. Everything looked like it had been recently built. Unlike the chaotic masses of Thailen, the traffic here actually moved with an orderly flow, everyone on the left side moving one way, and those on the right moving the other. The clouds parted just enough for a glorious sunset over the Temple of Agis, casting the city in a fiery light. But even in the streets, Gunnar overheard murmurings about the storm on the horizon.

Gunnar formed a group chat with the four of them and sent one last reminder before he and Rorak entered the pub.

Gunnar: Wait for Niall’s signal. Everyone will be moving at once with the first phase. Sauvage should already be inside, maybe catch a seat somewhere nearby. Soon as we get the signal, you’re spreading some evidence. Kid Killer, give him two minutes, before you come in and make your scene.

He glanced back. Sauvage patted a pair of water skins slung over his shoulders and nodded.

Kid Killer was moving slowly, and maybe a little sulkily, at the edge of the flow of traffic. His gait was a slightly awkward, not surprising given his... add-ons.

The sign above the entrance to the Spawn’s Death Trap showed an upright oval-shaped whirlpool with a gaping maw like that of a squid. One small man on a tiny skiff was falling into the abyssal genitalia with a wide grin on his face. The building itself spanned most of the block, with cloudy reddish tinted windows on the outside. There were several figures dancing on the other side, their curvy silhouettes enticing sailors from the streets.

Gunnar shook his head and smirked at the illustration as they passed beneath it and entered the pub.

The place was enormous and not at all what he’d expected. It was shiny, for one thing. More like something from a Vegas casino than a grimy sailor’s pub. A plush red carpet lined the main pathway through the pub. At the center, there was a large round bar, and above the bar was a platform stage where scantily-clad performers danced to live music.

Rorak shook his head. “I heard Mavenport treated their sailors well, but this is beyond what I expected.”

Most of the sailors were impressively cleaned up too, with neatly trimmed hair and clean clothes. The exception was along the left side of the vast room, where most of the new arrivals, including Gunnar and Rorak were immediately directed.

They stood in line for a couple minutes before reaching a podium, which bore a large sign filled with fine print. But at the top, Gunnar did not miss the cover charge price. He and Rorak handed over ten coins apiece, and a plump elvish woman in a fancy violet gown handed them a slip of paper with a number on it.

“What’s this for?” Gunnar asked.

The woman eyed them both like they were idiots, then shouted, “Sailor 26, your shower’s ready!”

Gunnar nearly burst out laughing. This pub was like the ultimate sailor truck stop—ship stop?—and the cleanliness factor was only going to make this better when they were through with this place.