“So there I was, trapped in a sewer. And two hundred feral Ghouls were bearing down on me! Foul wretched creatures, ready to tear me limb from limb! There was a stench of death surrounding me, cloying and set to overwhelm me. The Ghoul at the front, the biggest, stares right at me snarling with eyes ablaze-”

“Ablaze? A dead guy? It’s a bit beyond ‘em innit?” Zach interrupted as he took a swig of his ale and slammed the pewter tankard back down on the stained table. He raised a doubtful eyebrow as his rodent companion.

“Shut it!” Skrakch snapped. It was just like Zach. He always had to try and ruin a good pub story! “Three hundred feral Ghouls, all wanting a piece of me!” He revved up, ready to continue the tale of his daring escape.

“Three hundred is it now?” It was Winfred’s turn to interrupt. She shook her head as she looked at him and rolled her eyes expressively. “Ye said there were one hundred when ye were tryin’ to get tha free whiskey outta the barman!” She leaned back in her chair and cracked her neck loudly. “At least ye weren’t in the ring with that big brute,” She added. “Nearly broke me in two. I’ll be feeling this shite for a week!” She frowned when Zach stifled a chuckle into his tankard.

The trio of thugs were long clear of Rodyr’s estate and the rampaging Ghouls. They’d arrived safely back in The Slums with their ill-gotten gains and, as was often the case on one of their adventures, unleashing an Undead horde proved to be thirsty work. Skrakch had been more than happy to lead the way to their favorite watering hole ‘The Plagued Rat’.

It wasn’t the most hospitable pub in The Slums and it didn’t even stock the best booze. Hell, the staff were equally as likely to attack you as serve you but it was perfect for Skrakch’s needs. It was in ‘The Plagued Rat’ that the lowest of the low were free to gather without fear of being kicked out. It was also one of the few pubs that would let an Iskrin inside its doors, even if it was covered in dried blood.

Downing the last of his ale, Skrakch waved down one of the serving wenches. The homely barmaid was one of the few Humans in the darkened bar. The rest of the staff were made up of various other folks who’d been unable to secure work elsewhere. As the wench thrust another slightly rusted tankard into his paws, Skrakch had to admit that, despite the smell of stale booze and unwashed drunks, he was fond of the place.

“I had full faith in ya Winnie,” Zach continued.

“Ha!” Winifred snorted. “Dinnae even get me started on you Wee Man! This wee rattie might be fantasist but at least he’s nae a bloody fool like you!” She continued, poking him hard in the chest with one of her thick fingers. “Sendin’ us into a place like that for food tokens of all things!”

“Hey now!” Zach brushed her poking finger aside and held up both of his hands defensively. “You two might’ve come up against Ghouls and a bloke with more brawn than bollocks but at least you weren’t in the proper danger zone. Need I remind you which of us had to sit on that bloody dias next to an oversized cow with an anger problem”? He demanded. “He could’ve taken me bloody head off any time he felt like it. Now that’s danger!”

“Aye and next ye’ll be telling us it’s your middle name,” Winifred replied sarcastically. “I cannae imagine how terrible it must’ve been for ye!”

Skrakch grinned and leaned closer, a satisfied smirk crossing his face. The Ratling loved moments like this. He’d heard plenty of people call Zacharias out on his shit before now but when Winifred did it, it was like listening to a beautiful symphony. Nobody this side of The Slums could put the Halfling in his place like her.

“Must’ve been so hard for ye!” She continued, feigning sympathy. “Sippin’ his fancy wine and fillin’ yer wee face with his food. Were ye afraid ye’d forget to stick yer little pinky finger out in the air? Oh and that food of his! I bet it was like walkin’ on a knife-edge aye? Who knows what delicious meats and herbs his paid cook with his fancy schoolin’ would come up with? Yer full of shit Laddie, no doubt aboot it,” She shook her head as she wound up the rant. “Have ye worked out how much that stuff’s worth then?” She nodded towards the purse filled with the tokens.

“Uh well,” Zach scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. If he was rattled at all by Winifred’s tirade, he wasn’t showing it. “These things don’t exactly fetch top coin…” He started to explain. Skrakch reveled in the fact that the Halfling looked exactly like a kid caught with its hands in the cookie jar. It made hanging out with the insufferable prick that much more bearable.

In fact, Winnie’s anger was quickly becoming palpable, apparent within the unflinching gaze that she leveled at Zacharias as he began to hedge his answer. With each word, the pit fighter’s fist clenched on her tankard so tight her knuckles were almost pure white. He’d pay good coin to see Zach be on the receiving end of one of her punches.

“Probably about one silver per token,” Skrakch filled in for the ginger Halfling as Zach hemmed and hawed and fiddled with his tankard awkwardly. “People don’t really use these things. It’s not like the food our Undead “protectors” give us is up to Minotaur standard,” He added with another smug smirk, ignoring Zacharias’ sour expression.

“Thirty gold!” Winifred slammed down her tankard, spilling ale across the tabletop. “Yer tellin’ me that I almost got ma head ripped off for thirty fucking gold?” She pointed another accusing finger at Zacharias again.

“What and you think I’m chuffed about that?’ Zach snarled. He waved a hand angrily in Skrakch’s direction. “He’s the one that broke into the wrong bloody vault! Why aren’t you giving him the shit?” He demanded.

“Because it’s completely normal to keep your food tokens under your bed?” Skrakch replied sarcastically. “Especially when you have an entire kitchen staff on your payroll! Makes total sense! Listen Zacharias if you had any idea of what you were doing then I’d have been made Chosen for sure! Serves me right for thinking anything you could come up with would work out!”

It felt good to let go like this. To focus all his anger and resentment on one target. Zach was an easy target at that. It should’ve been a simple enough mission yet a bountiful one. Skrakch could see it all now. If things had worked out…his Crux could’ve been ‘Steal’. It would be the perfect one for him. He was destined for it and he was going to make damn well sure he got what he wanted. He just had the small problem of his idiotic accomplice.

“Ya fuckin’ wish mate!” Zach snorted scornfully. “You’ve been chasing that bloody Pact nonsense for years…never get any closer to it though, do ya? Ever think that you might just be a boring old nobody like the rest of us? That ever occurred to you Squeakers?”

Zach shook his head mockingly, he even had the gall to tut as though Skrakch were some naughty child.

“Have you heard this shit Winnie?” He continued, gesturing in Skrakch’s direction. “Rat boy here thinks that he’s gonna be the next Fang’Mel!”

The Halfling made no effort to keep his voice down so, consequently, the tables nearby heard this proclamation. A few of the drunken patrons looked at Skrakch and started to guffaw idiotically.

Skrakch lunged across the table towards Zach. To Hells with keeping his temper. He wasn’t going to let some thieving Halfling mock him. He would bite the smug smile right off of his ugly face, consequences be damned. Dray’Mel would probably thank him for it. The Hero who’d killed it’s biggest pain in the ass!

“Yer bloody fools, the pair of ye,” Winifred said calmly as Skrakch knocked Zach to the floor and they started to tussle messily. “Nae point in killin’ each other,” She added, grabbing Skrakch by the tail and pulling him off the swearing Halfling. “Don’t wanna get barred from here on top of it all.”

“Yeah Squeakers!” Zach got back to his seat quicker than he’d been pushed off it. He straightened his shirt and had a quick glance around, making sure the clumsy fight hadn’t been seen by too many people. Not that they would’ve been sober enough to remember it. “You need to calm yourself down, yah damned vermin.”

Skrakch could see the logic in Winifred’s argument as much as it pained him to admit. He gave a final hiss in Zach’s direction before settling back into his own seat. He needed to remind himself that revenge on the Halfling would come in time. And it definitely wouldn’t do any good for him to be kicked out of his favorite pub too.

“We need to lay low for a while,” Zach continued as he motioned over to the serving wench to bring them another round of ales. “Everybody and their bloody wives are gonna remember a brown Iskrin actually doing something on its own initiative.” He added smugly.

“Would ye just shut yer wee piehole for five minutes?” Winifred demanded peevishly. “The two of you are givin’ me another headache on top of the headache I already have!”

“Your hit wearing off Winnie my dear?” Zach asked with mock charm. It was a tone Skrakch heard far too much for his liking. He watched as the Halfling patted the pocket of his large overcoat significantly. “You always get arsey when it’s wearing off…”

“And you’re always a wee shite after every gig!” Winifred sniped. Still, Skrakch noticed, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pocket. “But aye, if you’ve got it, I’ll have it,” She held out her hand, fingers and nail caked in dried blood. “And don’t ye even think of asking for any payment. You owe me, Laddie. Don’t make me kick ye in the balls. Again.”

“Always so touchy,” Zach muttered, withdrawing a small vial of swirling red liquid from his pocket. From the look on his face, it was clear that he recalled the last time he’d been on the receiving end of one of Winifred’s kicks. “It’s always a pleasure working with you Winnie,” He handed over the vial, not bothering to hide it. The Plagued Rat was one of the many places in The Slums that couldn’t care less about its patron's little proclivities.

Zach stood up and grabbed a tankard from a passing serving wench before downing in it one. He wiped the back of his hand on the sleeve of his overcoat and bowed mockingly.

“It’s been a pleasure but the night is still young,” He announced. “I’ll be away to The Edges to find myself a gentle lady of the night to celebrate with.”

“Yer disgusting ya wee deviant,” Winifred said dismissively with a shake of her head. “Ye dinna know what they’re riddled with over there.”

“And therein lies the thrill my dear!” Zach replied with a dramatic flourish. “We all know I’m a gambling man!”

“Aye well, I hope it falls off,” Winifred spat, turning her attention to the serving wench and starting to ask about the types of pies they had on offer.

“And I hope your pie brings you a night in the shitter!” Zach said with a grin.

Skrakch waited until Zach made himself scarce before finishing his drink. He hurried away from the table as soon as Winifred got deep in conversation with the serving wench. It was time to pay a visit to his good friend Meekknuckle.

He was sure that Winnie wouldn’t mind being left with the bar tab.