In the day leading up to moving into Caemor, I had a lot I had to get in order. The last of it was visiting the potion lady in the slums. She'd seemed willing to let me use her shop to make potions, and I'd need more soon if I wanted my deal with Arne and the Triam Drana to hold up.

So the night before, I moved what I needed to my apartment and then changed into clothes for Tryg. I was getting pretty comfortable moving around the city at this point since I spent a lot of nights watching its flows and ebbs from the rooftops. Navigating back to the lady's shop in the slums was no issue.

The issue was that the shop no longer had any sign. No one answered when I knocked. When I broke in, I found it empty. Didn't look as if anyone had ever been there. Maybe she'd used magic to erase any trace of her shop. I doubted she'd moved. So what? I'd figured out her trick and she ran? Had she been worried I'd tell on her for slitting the throats of orphans just to sell a few dozen shitty potions to anyone who stopped to help?

I didn't tell on people like her. I killed them. Took a serial killer to know a serial killer and took one to take one out, too. No one ran from me and lived. I'd hunt her down and make her face her own humanity soon enough.

Looking around, I could still make good use of this place now that she'd cleared out. Make a good cache. And I could still make potions here rather than at Rose's apartment or at my own. I could have the Driam Trana patrol around here to make sure no one broke in, and I could also allow them entry to stock as they needed. No need to run Danio around for that then. He could then be free to be useful elsewhere.

If I was going to use this place, though, it'd need a few things. A few tables and chairs, a few cauldrons, and places to store the potions and the ingredients for them so they'd keep fresh. I went to the market and used the money I'd won at Kashana to put in a few orders. Danio could arrange to pick them up or have them delivered later. The magic locks that I bought I walked back to the shop and put on the front and back doors myself.

With that secured, I wandered deeper into the slums, looking for signs of where the potion maker might've gone. The dead of the night was the perfect time to see the real slums. The cramped, filthy streets were filled with people, mostly humans, but also a few orcs, halflings, especially of the demon sort. I saw a halfling carrying a bloodied sword. A singing kobold missing limbs asking for tips. I saw a gnome playing tricks with cards. A dwarf drinking alone in an alley.

No one who looked like they'd have information. No one who looked like they'd have seen the potion maker and be willing to talk about it. No sign of the potion maker anywhere. Very peculiar. She could be good at disappearing, but I'd found a lot of people who were good at disappearing as an assassin. She could also have found protection somewhere. Not with the Triam Drana, as Arne had made it clear they had no plans to hire potion makers.

But what about Rashania and Co? Who had they hired to make their potions? Where were they making them? How were they getting their supplies? How were they distributing their product?

When I'd circled back to the area the potion shop had been in, I found a man sitting on a stoop who looked human except for his sharp brown horns. He looked up at me. Seemed about the age of my second oldest brother, early twenties by the look of his stubble. He had shaggy dark brown hair and deep-set eyes that'd clearly seen his fair share of shit. He had tattoos that reminded me of my time in jail.

He said nothing, just stared at me and took a long swig from the bottle in his hand without looking away. A look that said he'd talk if I'd pay him.

"Hey," I called out. When he still said nothing, I tried a different approach. "You seem pretty drunk."

He shrugged. "Trying to die. Want to help?" He pointed down at a little wood bowl that had three dirty copper coins. His clothes were dirty, but thankfully he didn't smell like piss.

"Not for free," I said, "but keep drinking like that and you'll get there quick enough." I tossed a gold coin into his bowl. "You see a lot of things, don't you?"

He looked at the coin, set his bottle down, and looked at me again. "I do."

"Tell me about Rashania and Co."

His eyes widened for a second, then he barked out laughter and sat back on the steps of the stoop. "Got nothing to tell you about Rashania and Co, but I can describe some of what I've seen and heard about them." He stood. "I need a change of scenery though."

[Notice]

Congratulations!

You have completed your Quest [Find Information on Rashania and Co]. Mastery of the [Lucky Number 7] Skill has increased by .05%.

He didn't bother inviting me along, but I followed his drunk meandering down this alley and that street. Then he came upon a half-kicked in door. He opened it and then descended some stairs to a basement tunnel. There was another door at the end that opened up into the shadiest dimly lit tavern I'd come across in Brugge so far. I liked the place.

We got a table in the corner, and I ordered us drinks. When they came, he drank down his first beer in a hurry, then took mine. He took a preliminary drink, then wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

"Okay then," he said. "Should be safe in here, but let me warn you: don't say their name aloud like that. If you don't wanna cause trouble, you gotta call them the Rashirat. Means curses in the Divine Tongue, the shadows of the Shevirat that live in the realm of demons and all that. So it fits, you know. The curses of the slums. The rats in the shadows of Brugge."

I liked it. "So tell me about the Rashirat."

"What's there to tell? They're everywhere. Their hands are in everything."

"So the guards."

"Yes. That's why you gotta be careful saying their name aloud. One of the guards hears, and you might just be too dead to repeat it again."

I nodded. Sounded like the Driam Trana was benefitting from the Rashirat's reputation. "The banks?"

"Of course."

I could only think of one explanation for how embedded this group was in Brugge, the power they held over the Driam Trana, or their general anonymity.

"The nobility?" I asked.

"Naturally. Doesn't it always lead straight up to the top in the end? If not by the king's decree then at least by someone hoping to secure enough power to usurp the throne, right? The people up there are always using the people down here to fight their wars. On the battlefield. In the streets. No difference."

"So you think it's a noble who runs it all," I said. "They've got control over the guards, have the banks in their pockets, and are using commoners to meet some unknown need because there's some larger political plot going on that either requires a lot of money or a lot of people. Or both. Is that what I'm hearing?"

He nodded. "Also the guilds. Not all of them. Some have enough power on their own, but the small ones, the newer ones, they get sunk unless they agree to pay some fee or something. Same with the businesses. That's what I've heard at least. But a lot of people in the slums got stories about that. The slums weren't always so packed."

Interesting. All of it seemed pretty standard affair in a society like this. That was exactly what Duke Viscoti was doing but in other ways. Not any better or any worse, just different. What was different was that Father used his own men and his own money while the Rashirat were taking money from others and using commoners to accomplish whatever it is they were aiming for.

I hated people like that. I hated people who preyed on the weak. Where was the fun in that? Where was the thrill? Where was the motivation? Those were the type of people I liked hunting down and killing more than anyone else. If you've got this dark urge, what else would you use it for if not to kill the people who go after the most vulnerable? Fight fire with fire and all that.

"So if I wanted to meet someone in the Rashirat," I said, "where would I go?"

"Now that I don't know," the man said. "Can I get another beer though? Might have some ideas after another round or two."

I chuckled and waved to one of the tavern workers to get us two more drinks. "Sure. I've got all night."

[Notice]

Congratulations!

You have completed your Quest [Acquire an Informant]. Mastery of [Lucky Number 7] has increased by .10%.