“The aqueducts.” Avren said as he threw a dagger at a detailed map of Lost Dawns. The dagger stuck in the wooden table with a loud 'thunk.’ The blade's tip landed on an empty space on the city's map. Pencil scribblings around the word 'aqueduct' with arrows signified where the structure’s various segments were to be built and when. Currently, they were still under construction.

Avren grabbed the dagger's handle and ripped it from the wedged resting spot. He took a large swig of a stein full of ale as he gestured thoughtfully at his brother with the weapon, “It hasn't been struck with any misfortune yet and will be finished within a day. If the Rabbits are going to strike, it will be there.”

“Elisa what are you thinking?” Avren had been in the city for almost a year now, and since their last encounter had not seen the elusive assassin. He had, however, heard accounts of an exotic elf in a purple cape moving about in the Roots. Avren knew it was her and he wanted to meet her once more, even if it were to kill her.

Wiccer rubbed his chin as he looked over the slit left in the map by the blade. They spent the entire day and most of the night going over all the places and people who were struck by the Rabbits. The city was nearly complete despite the many delays, thanks in part to Avren's best efforts. If something were to happen to the aqueducts it would push back the city's progression by at least another month. Clearly someone didn't want the city to flourish and clearly they wanted the king to suffer the fall of his beloved city – his legacy.

Wiccer nodded slowly, still locked in thought, “I think they were being smothered by our presence. It’s as if they can't make their message clear. They are being choked. Soon they’ll need to commit a desperate act to keep their employer happy…”

Avren's eyes widened once he got a glimpse of Wiccer's train of thought, “They are not going to poison some worker. They are not going to stop the construction of the 'ducts. They want them finished… on purpose?”

“The Rabbits want to poison the water supply!” Wiccer slammed his fist on the table, finishing the thought.

Avren slumped in his chair and tipped over his stein in shock, which sloshed his drink on the floor. A dumbfounded look scribbled over his face and his eyes fixated on the ceiling. If the Black Rabbits did plan on poisoning the city, then a security assignment just evolved into a mission to save the Lost Dawns.

“Avren, we don't have much time! The aqueducts will be finished within the next three days! We need to find their operatives now.”

Avren called for the White Cloaks guarding the door, “Gather the men, we have a new mission. I'll brief you in ten.”

Once they were alone, Avren turned to his brother with fear in his eyes that Wiccer had never seen before, “Wiccer, I need you to find out what these assassins are going to use to poison the water supply. That way we can make an antidote for it if we fail.”

“Where do I start? Father never trained me in poisons” sputtered Wiccer.

Avren placed a reassuring hand on his little brother's shoulder, “Check the apothecary in the Roots. They wouldn't go to an alchemist or herbalist in just any part of the city to acquire this kind of poison.”

Avren grabbed the back of Wiccer's neck and pulled him in for a headlock, “I love you, little brother, and I sent for you for a reason. I trust and believe in you more than any Cloak here. I know you can do this!”

Wiccer grinned, his confidence resonated back in his voice, “I won't let you down, Avren!”

“One last thing… don't bring your cloak.”

***

Slowly over the course of Lost Dawns' construction, the Roots became the epicenter for crime and poverty. Avoided by the authorities and the high class, only the desperate and the lowly stepped foot onto these streets.

Not bringing his cloak was a careful warning more than a suggestion. Wiccer pulled up the hood of a ratty traveler's cloak that hid his fine pressed uniform. His eyes darted from side to side, eying the vagabonds that dotted the alleyways and stoops. There were fewer lamp posts here than in other parts of the city. Thus, the clouded night made for a more precarious scene.

Wiccer stopped in front of a shady storefront. Long curtains prevented curious eyes from peering into a slightly cracked window pane that was covered in grime and dust. The door hung slightly off its hinges and a bum lie drunk on the steps. The sign read: ‘Angelo’s Her-’

A wide crack splintered the sign, making the final wording unreadable. Wiccer stepped over the bum, careful not to disturb his stupor as he entered the shop.

Inside, a dim lantern emitted a glow tinted by a soft green flame. Shelves covered the walls with jars of various spices and herbs. By the counter an elderly kanis watched with one good eye, as the other was a faded white, scarred and crusty. Clearly half blind. The wolflike beastman had his long silver fur tied in tight braids, decorated with small bones and teeth, possibly his own.

“Are you Angelo?” Wiccer asked casually, making sure his cloak covered his regal tunic. His hand rested on his sword’s pommel.

“Who’s Angelo? There is only Loomis here.” spoke the wolf, growling with a hacking cough.

“Never mind,” Wiccer sneered, a poor attempt at hiding the annoyed tinge in his voice. He walked to the counter, sliding a silver trit into the shopkeeper’s claws, “I seek knowledge on a vermin problem in the city.”

The wolf let loose a sparse but toothy grin, “The city is full of rats, but perhaps that’s not the type of vermin you speak of…”

“Lost Dawns is overrun with rabbits.”

The shopkeeper cackled, “Just one, friend, just one.”

Wiccer’s face turned inquisitive, “What do you know, old one?”

“I know a single silver piece isn’t enough for the information you seek.” His claw was palm up, motioning for more money.

Wiccer jingled a pouch in front of the wolf’s muzzle, “Tell me what you know, and then you will be paid.”

The wolf licked his chops before indulging the information, “She comes in alone, always to purchase Wickedleaf. She pays well to make sure I ask her no questions. However, Loomis is never in the dark. She is alone in this city, and when she purchases her Wickedleaf, trouble always falls over the city within the next day.”

Wiccer tossed the pouch onto the counter, “Where can I find her?”

“You seek Patches the Slim. He acts as the eyes and ears of the Roots.”

***

The Roots only grew more dangerous as time passed. Soon even the drunks and homeless didn’t call the corners and stoops home. Wiccer needed to find this contact, and fast. The time he spent with Loomis yielded excellent results, but he was sure that the Rabbit would learn of his prying. Perhaps she already knew.

As Wiccer passed by another alley, he glimpsed a figure enter into his blind spot. Swiftly grabbing for his sword, but not drawing it, he spun around and reached into the shadows bringing a shady man into his vision.

The man wore a tattered fedora on his head. Several scars and a stubble graced his jaw line. A long brown buttoned coat draped his body. He smirked holding up his hands innocently, “Relax, Patches the Slim is a friend to all. I can see you're looking for something. What's your poison?”

Wiccer furrowed his brow and half drew his sword that was concealed by the cape of his brown cloak, “Poison?”

The man chuckled, “Listen, I can tell by your grip you're a construction worker. And since I've never seen you in the Roots before, you've probably been brought in from Varis. You're looking for something that the rest of the city can't supply you with. You looking for some dream weed or black sap? You looking to forget your worries? Relax for a bit? The Roots can be a place of pleasure. We even have the finest women. They’re experienced and know how to keep secrets.”

Wiccer loosened his grip on the sword, lowered his voice to a whisper, and settled into the role of a disgruntled construction worker from Varis, “Listen mate, my boss is driving me up the wall. I want to discreetly send him a message. You get my drift?”

The merchant flashed a grin, “Aye, I get your drift. Follow ‘ole Patches.”

***

Wiccer kept his hand close to the sword hanging from his belt. His eyesight strained in the dark, filthy tunnels within the sewers below the Roots. The stench of waste was like a lingering fog. Rats scurried past their feet as the untrustworthy man kept up cheerful idle chat. Wiccer played along but kept up his vigilance.

“How much further Mr. Slim?”

The merchant looked back, keeping his dimly lit oil lamp at the forefront, “Mr. Slim was my father’s name. Call me Patches the Slim.”

Wiccer slid a weird grin, “How much further…Patches the Slim?”

“Just around this bend. When we get to her, allow me to do the talkin.’ She’s not too keen on the customer talking directly to her, but you insisted on doing business face to face. I don’t blame ya. The business she deals in is nasty work, work that would make even Dhalamar blush.”

Patches stopped around the corner and walked across a canal that divided the sewer. He rapped his knuckles on a shoddy wooden door. He did it gently for the door seemed to be suffering from cracks, mildew, and rot.

Wiccer waited carefully while wishful thinking flooded his mind. But the nagging feeling that he might be in over his head began to creep in as well. Was this the lair of the Black Rabbit? How long could he keep up this ruse?

The merchant knocked lightly again.

An annoyed voice came from the other side of the door. A woman’s voice, “Patches, is that you? You just gave me your report an hour ago.”

“Well–”

“Do you plan on talking through a door, come in already!”

Patches took off his ragged fedora and ushered Wiccer inside. Wiccer followed, his hand clung even more tightly on his sheathed sword.

The room was small and lit by many candles. Old, poorly made furniture decorated the area while scrolls and maps of the city were scattered about. Behind a desk sat an exotic looking elf with dark purple hair. Her skin was a light gray and her eyes were a hypnotic deep violet. Wiccer recognized her as a Shadow Elf, but he had never seen one in person. She was dressed in the traditional black and purple garb of the Black Rabbits. Surely, she was who he was searching for.

The Rabbit sneered at the sight of Wiccer, “Slim, who is this child?”

Scoffing, Wiccer was taken aback by the ‘child’ comment, “I’m fifteen, hardly a child!”

The woman chuckled and bowed sarcastically, “Forgive me, sir, what can I do for you?”

Patches stepped forward to explain, “He’s a construction worker fed up with his boss. He wants to teach him a lesson, if you get my drift, Elisa.”

Elisa slowly walked forward. A slender finger brushed under Wiccer’s chin seductively. She lightly grazed over his chest with her other hand as she moved lightly around him, “Such dark features for a Long Whisper human. You aren’t from here, I would gather somewhere in Alva.”

Wiccer blushed from the attraction he had to such a beautiful woman, but attempted to keep his mind focused, “My parents are from Alva. I was born in Varis.”

Elisa continued to slowly inspect Wiccer, lifting up his traveler’s cloak, and sliding her fingers up his arms, “You have the build of a construction worker. You’ve seen much hard work for a human so young…but…” She stopped with her intense eyes of the night staring at Wiccer’s, “You dress and are armed like a White Cloak. True, you might have left your cloak in Varis, but your tunic and sword shine with arrogant authority. Too bad, you could have grown into a very handsome man.”

Drawing with life or death reflexes, Wiccer pulled his blade under Elisa’s neck, “You’re under arrest by the authority of King Jaelyn! Surrender, Rabbit!”

Elisa gracefully jumped backwards pulling several shurikens from her belt and whipping them through the air. Wiccer deflected several, while the rest sparked off the wall behind him. Patches gasped and crashed through the old door, making a sloppy escape.

Wiccer shuffled, keeping one hand to steady his blade, the other to reach into his pouch for a pair of small shackles. Elisa slid a pair of sais down her sleeves and into her hands, “You look familiar, Cloak. Do you have a brother?”

Wiccer blinked at the question, “You know Avren?”

Elisa circled around the young soldier, her thoughts heavy with images of Avren’s muscles glistening in oils, laying in a silk covered bed: “Avren.” Ever since her encounter with Wiccer’s brother, he had been a guilty pleasure in her mind; a constant image that gave her company at night.

“Just curious,” Elisa’s mouth made a thin smile. Spinning her sais skillfully with several flicks of her wrist, she thrusted in a succession of attacks. Wiccer struggled to parry the swift attacks, still holding the shackles in his left hand. With a side swiping technique, Elisa locked her sai’s guard with Wiccer’s blade, pinning them both into a neighboring table. With a savage backhand, the other sai collided across Wiccer’s jaw.

Wiccer released his sword and fell back against a wall. Rubbing a bruised cheek, he was caught off guard by a heavy kick to his ribs that crashed him further into the wall. Wiccer crumpled to the ground. To his dismay, his own sword’s tip pressed against his neck.

Elisa grinned wickedly, “A fair attempt.”

Wiccer sneered, grimacing from a cracked rib. He let loose a strong low kick, attempting to sweep her off of her feet, “I’m not done yet, Rabbit!”

Elisa somersaulted backwards, avoiding falling to the ground. However, she was caught off guard when Wiccer came barreling at her wielding a chair. Wiccer crashed the wooden chair over her head, splintering it into pieces. Blood squirted from Elisa’s mouth as she hit the floor hard.

Dazed, she struggled to move, but a sharp kick to her head ended any chance for her to continue the fight. Wiccer winced as he bent over to pick up and sheath his sword. Gingerly, he examined a large purple and blue welt growing on his side.

“A fair attempt, Rabbit.”

***

“Are you insane, Wiccer?” Avren was furious as he met his brother outside the cell of the unconscious Elisa, “I gave you the mission to investigate the poison!”

Wiccer raised his head and pointed his hand at his captor, “I did one better! I captured the Black Rabbit terrorizing the city. You should be hailing me a hero, yet here you are scolding me!”

“Hailing you as a hero? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t!” Wiccer argued.

Avren huffed a chest full of angry breath. He hung his head in a frustrated gesture, holding his hips, “Wiccer. What you did was foolhardy, and although it paid off this time, you can’t always act alone. You need to use your head. You were very lucky this time, but there may very well be a next time that doesn’t end as well for you. I wasn’t there to watch your back. No one was there to watch your back. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

Wiccer gently rubbed his now taped up ribs, “I’m sorry Avren. I’ll think before I act next time.”

Avren put his heavy hand on his little brother’s head, “It will save your life.” Avren looked towards his prisoner as she slowly began to wake up, “Wiccer, go back to the infirmary and rest up. I’ll brief you on what I’ve learned from her later.”

Wiccer nodded, wincing from his still aching ribs.

Elisa murmured as she woke to a splitting headache. She opened her eyes and found herself behind bars. She scowled, “Well, Avren, is it? Are you here to give me breakfast in bed?”

Avren hid a smile, “Breakfast? You have killed several of my men and injured even more.”

Elisa moved slowly to the bars, flipping her hair away from an eye, gleaming dreamily into Avren’s, “Only business, Avren. You should know that.”

Avren could not help but move his eyes up and down Elisa’s perfect body. She was the most ravishingly beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and her flirting with him wasn’t helping him keep his concentration, “Elisa, your crimes in this city have rung high. You will hang from the gallows for what you’ve done… unless of course, you have some redeeming qualities about you.”

The shadow elf reached to brush Avren’s cheek gently, and then ran her finger down to his lips, “I have many ‘redeeming’ qualities about me. Why don’t you come into this cell, so I can show you?”

Avren, snatched her wrist and pulled her up to the bars with a rough ‘clang.’

What was he doing? No one had ever toyed with his emotions like this. He wanted her, but the militaristic discipline in him kept him from taking her on her back and thrusting himself deep within her. This was her game, she played him like a puppet, but he wanted to play this game.

Avren swallowed hard and came in close to her luscious lips, “I’m serious, Elisa. King Jaelyn wants you dead.”

Elisa, began to unbutton his tunic to reveal his bare muscled chest, “What do you want, Avren?”

Avren grabbed her by the shirt and dragged down her collar, kissing her neck. Elisa moaned in pleasure. Avren stopped, “I can’t do this.”

Elisa pouted her face, “You Cloaks are such sticks in the mud.”

“Talk, and I may be able to save your life.”

Elisa grinned devilishly, “You expect me to betray my clan for sex?”

Avren released her, “Your clan would let you swing by your neck. I can give you safety, a place to stay other than this prison or deep in the mire of the sewers. Provide us with information and work with us. You can have a better life.”

“What of the sex?” Elisa said coyly rubbing the spot on her neck that Avren kissed.

Avren, still sweating, adjusted his trousers, “We can arrange something. What do you say? Work with me?”

Elisa’s mind was fluttering with the thought of taking the deal. However, she would be breaking the highest law of the Black Rabbits: “Stay loyal to the clan.” But Elisa’s loyalty was to her Shadow Elf queen, not to the clan. The Black Rabbits were merely a means to an end. The skills she gained were to better serve Queen Ravengale. She wouldn't be able to serve her if she was sentenced to death. The Rabbits would have her marked for death for such brazen treason, but the secrets she’d learned could be such an asset to her queen and she’d never get to reveal them if the Cloaks hung her first. She needed to take the deal. It was her best option; her only option.

“I’ll take your deal, Avren.”

Avren opened her cell, “Excellent. Come, we have some work to do and people to see.”

Elisa yanked his cloak, tugging him inside the prison room, “That can wait. We have some unfinished work of our own to attend to.”