Chapter 37: The Criminal and the Noble

  “Oh God, what’s that smell?” Riley tried not to gag, focusing instead on where she put her paws.

  Even Tobias looked green, “I don’t think I want to know,”

  They passed a public privy overflowing with filth. Street urchins peeked out of alleys, dirty and hungry, while others ran down uneven cobblestone streets full of puddles, debris, and dead animals.

  Every building seemed a derelict or near to ruin; rooftops stood out like broken smiles against a bright and clean autumn sky that was far more pristine than anything that could have ever existed there.

  Scantily clad women roamed under broken crystal lamps, pandering to anyone who got within earshot. At the same time, their pimps sat at tables set out onto sidewalks interspersed amongst the garbage, hawking wares, presumably stolen.

  “Oh, I’ve never been so grateful to have shoes,” Riley scanned around, along with Tobias, ever watchful for threats, though they were moving under veil.

  “The broken privy was the landmark; from the high street, go south down the common way for thirty-five blocks, then turn left,” Tobias recited within his own mind.

  “I see why we couldn’t get a carriage now,” Riley dodged to her left to let someone pass as Tobias pressed up against a wall.

  “There it is,” surreptitiously, he pointed to a building across the street with a broken carriage out front. A badly faded sign, barely clinging to the pole from which it hung, read “Good Jon’s Apothecary.”

  Crossing the street and moving around the abandoned carriage, Riley froze as the smell of death hit her.

  Tobias crouched low, using the carriage as cover only for his eyes to lock on to that of a dead woman, rotting away, her eyes cloudy and open, staring out vacantly towards infinity.

  Her throat had been slashed; what little clothes she wore were caked in old black blood, long since dried.

  “Come on, Riley, let’s get this done,” Tobias choked back the anger, swallowing his bile.

  With her close behind, they slipped into the doorway as Riley dropped their veil.

  “You sure you’re in the right place, fancy pants?” The voice had all the dulcet qualities of an ungreased bearing nearing catastrophic failure.

  It belonged to a man well over six foot four in height, towering like a golem and just as broad-shouldered, his head hovered inches from a dirty ceiling. A golden and well-weathered torc framed what little neck he had. Black, well-fit leather armor covered his body, and he seemed to be in the best repair of anything in the place.

  “How many cockatrices had to die to make his armor?” Riley boggled before sneezing as dozens of competing, mostly stale scents assaulted her twitching nose.

  She worked her tongue out of her muzzle before her stomach twitched, “Oh God, this place sucks so bad.”

  Tobias focused forward, “My good man, I understand you have roksbane for a silver and finely powdered dragon claw for a gold each?”

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  “Who sent you?” Asked the living embodiment of an angry mountain.

  “Evelyn’s sister, after we struck out at Astor’s Apothecary,” Tobias replied, finishing the code.

  With thunderous footfalls, the man emerged from behind the counter, “Move,”

  Tobias looked him right in the eye before pressing against the wall.

  “I’m Little Wulfsige,” The man said, locking the door.

  “Is there a big Wulfsige?” Riley asked, causing Tobias’ eyebrows to rise in surprise.

  “My father,” stomping back behind the counter, taking back his place amidst the empty and dusty shelves, he reached down, pressing a button.

  An audible click to their left drew Riley’s ears’ attention as a shelf popped open.

  “Nice to meet you,” Tobias nodded.

  Opening the door revealed a hidden staircase, cleaner than anything in the shop and carved out of stone.

  As they descended, heavy footfalls reverberated behind them before the shelf clicked back into place.

  “I’ve gotta give Sabine props; I feel like I’m in a Batman comic,” Riley said, carefully focusing on the stairs.

  “Crime Alley has nothing on this place,” Tobias replied, pulling from her memories.

  “Agreed,” Riley replied.

  “Stop right there; what’s your passphrase,” Sabine called out just as they hit a landing.

  “By the light of Arctos and the power of Galdor, do we walk the path in half night and high sun,” Tobias called out.

  “Welcome Rangers, what kept you?” She asked as they rounded the stairs.

  Bright blue crystal light poured over the last few stairs, and cleaner, subterranean air offered a welcome respite to the filth-ridden slums above.

  “We had to take a detour when we got to the threshold of hell,” Riley snarked.

  “Well, you’re here now, and we have a lot to talk about,” Sabine sat behind a large circular table that took up much of the center of the room; five chairs sat tucked in underneath, smooth stone walls arched gracefully, easily supporting the structure above. One long wall had a built-in table, with shelves above it, full of scrolls. A map of the Ashenvale was to their right, with various pins sticking out of it.

  Opposite the long table were three doors, currently closed, offering no clue to what lay behind, save that each was reinforced and iron banded, with a large keyhole set underneath the pull rings.

  “What is this place?” Tobias wondered.

  “It belongs to an old friend of ours. Taking that we don’t know what’s comprised right now, I closed down the cockatrice and moved my operations here.”

  Riley’s whiskers twitched as her eyes were drawn to a barely perceptible blur in her vision.

  Her prompt window bracketed around it as a ghostly gray aura burned like an alcohol flame.

  Tobias sidestepped to the right and thrust out his hand, taking it by the neck and slamming him into the wall.

  “Truce, young man, I’m supposed to be here; you’re my guests,” they cried.

  “Ratcatcher...” He spat the words as Riley’s left hindpaw twitched with fury.

  “Calling him a friend is like calling Chadrick an ally,” Riley snarled.

  “You wound me, but I see the rumors are true. How interesting, no second tier sorcerer could have seen through my veil, but I suppose that’s not a problem for you anymore, is it?” He smiled luridly from underneath his mask.

  “Let him go, Tobias,” Sabine ordered, as if she was still in command, “There’s one more person you need to meet.”

  “I haven’t forgotten how you turned tail and ran,” he replied with all the intonation of a threat before letting go, checking the Ratcatcher against the wall.

  “Two pieces of good information for free; what a banner day,” the criminal replied, straightening the lapels of the purple suit he always seemed to wear.

  “Everyone take your seats, and you two calm down,” Sabine demanded as one of the doors opened.

  Tobias’ eyes went wide, “You’re...”

  “The Elder Lord of Astor, you tried to kill my son, and I only wish you had succeeded. Come,” he replied, holding out a hand beckoning to the chairs.