The Rat’s Proposal

Azalon smiled and stretched as he stepped out of the brothel, feeling far more relaxed than he had earlier. Though it was still early in the afternoon the high cliffs that surrounded the village started to cast deep shadows over the entire town. The shade and the steady breeze coming in off of the sea made the autumn air feel particularly cold even through the fox’s fur and thick surcoat. After the heat of the brothel though the crisp air felt refreshing.

Though it was still early in the day, activity at the tavern had picked up somewhat. The golden glow from the tavern’s fire along with the smell of roast pork and loud laughter poured from the open doorway. Azalon was tempted to stop in and have a bite, but decided he had better get back before it grew too late. Though he didn’t actually have any work to do at the moment, he couldn’t just disappear for half the day. He’d just call his afternoon with Lili a “long lunch” and leave it at that.

As he neared the bottom of the first set of steps down to one of the lower terraces he met with a ratten who was on his way up. The man was smaller than Azalon by a few inches, making him appear shorter than even Lili. He probably wasn’t, but only because the sylph was always floating a few inches off the ground, making her look a little taller than she was. As soon as he saw Azalon the rat broke in a grin and rushed forward to meet him. “Excuse me. Would you by chance be Azalon Rushwater, the Rhysh scholar?”

Azalon was surprised that the rat knew who he was. He didn’t recognize him from the ship’s crew. “I am. Hello. Um sorry, I didn’t think anyone would know me. Are you with the guild?”

“That’s right.” The rat gave Azalon a low bow, sweeping his feathered hat off of his head to hold it against his chest. “Bendigo the Scald, traveling bard at your service. I uh, asked aboard your ship if there was anyone who could read Ancient Rhyshven and they gave me your name but said you was out whoring, so I thought I’d come find you myself.”

Whoring? That was a bit much. He didn’t think that anyone aboard the ship knew where he was off to. Not that there were many options, and it wasn’t as though Lili was being particularly circumspect when she dragged him from his cabin. “Ah. I see…”

The rat nodded, “Right, so I was wondering if I could hire you. Got a bit of a problem what needs a scholarly eye to unravel.”

“Oh? What sort of problem.”

“Well, I was exploring these ruins just south of town you see. Everyone else ignores them you know. Picked clean, no treasure, so what’s the point right? But I’m not here for treasure so much as for stories being a scald and all so when I come across this big painting on the wall in one of the basements I says wow! Now that’s really something! But there was writing all around it so unless I can find someone who can read old Rhyshven I can’t really say what it’s all about now can I?”

Azalon blinked at the fast talking rat, his Caldwynnian accent making him a little difficult to understand, but he was pretty sure he was at least getting the gist of what he was talking about. “I see, so a mural. Can you describe it?”

The rat blushed a bit, the insides of his ears turning bright pink as he looked away from the fox. “Um, well… it was a bit dirty. Lots of naked people, doing… you know, things.”

“Ahh, things.”

“Yeah, but like… well done. Artistic like you know.”

Azalon nodded. He wasn’t really surprised given what he knew about the empire’s taste in art. Most of it would be considered outright pornographic even in this enlightened age. “I see. And the writing? Did you make a copy of the inscription? I could probably get a translation to you within a day if it’s nothing too obscure.”

The rat shook his head, looking embarrassed once again. “Ahh, um no. Sorry, the words, they kept changing.”

“Changing?”

“Right, there was something magical about them, well the whole painting really. The people, they moved a little bit, just to show you what they were um… doing. But the words would change on me every time I tried to copy them down, so really I was hoping you could just come take a look? It’s not far.”

An enchanted mural… While he was starting to grow annoyed at the lack of details from the rat, whatever it was that he found was starting to sound interesting at the very least, though the idea of leaving the safety of the village walls made him nervous. “Hmm, it’s outside of the town though, right?”

“Well, yeah. But there isn’t anything dangerous up that way. A few mudcrabs is all. I go up there myself and had no troubles.”

He didn’t quite trust the rat and felt that there was something he wasn’t telling him. As a scholar though he could tell when people were lying to him, and as far as he could tell the rat was being perfectly honest, so even if Bendigo was holding something back he had at least found something worth investigating.

Finally he gave the rat a nod, “You have piqued my curiosity.”

The bard grinned and nodded back, “And I’ll pay you too of course. For your time and trouble. I can give you ten bars.”

“My normal rate is twenty five.”

Bendigo’s whiskers drooped a bit upon hearing the vulpin’s price, but after a couple seconds gave him another nod. “Um, all right. I guess I could swing twenty five. A big magic painting; the story it’s telling has got to be worth that much.”

Azalon had thought that the ratten would try to haggle so he gave him a bit of an inflated price. Now that he had agreed he felt a little guilty for overcharging him. “Yes, well perhaps. In truth we really don’t know much about Rhysh culture. While an enchanted mural may seem extravagant to us, it may be purely decorative.”

The rat nodded, holding up a finger to emphasize the point he was making, “Or. Or it could be the key to getting us deeper into the dungeon right? One of them sex rituals with the candles and the goats and what not.”

“There were goats?”

“Um, mighta been. Goat people at least. Some of ‘em had horns.”

Interesting. A lewd mural was one thing, but an enchanted mural depicting some kind of ritualistic sex act, that might actually be worth his time. “Right… Well, since it isn’t far, you could show me there now I suppose.”

“Ahh, wonderful. Thank you, this could really be a big break for me.”

Azalon nodded and the rat quickly turned back towards the village square, “Just, follow me then. We’ll be there in no time at all.”

✦ ✦ ✦

The ratten and the vulpine left through Wolgur’s south gate without comment from the two guards posted there.

The natural stone path winding its way up into the cliffs looked well traveled, free from the moss and lichen that grew on the wet rocks flanking the path. The adventurers challenging the dungeon would take this path every time they set out, keeping it relatively free from monsters. Even so, Bendigo had drawn a long dagger and was keeping his eyes open for anything dangerous.

While he was nervous at first, after half an hour or so of walking without incident, Azalon began to relax a little. Seeing that Bendigo was obviously nervous kept him weary though. The rat’s whiskers twitched as he glanced from side to side.

As the two of them reached another set of stairs carved into the rocky cliff wall he finally turned to the rat and asked, “Is it much further?”

He shook his head a little, “Mmm, just a bit. We’ll turn off of the main road soon though.”

Azalon nodded and sighed as he glanced up the high winding stairway. The rock steps looked slick and a bit uneven, and of course there was no handrail or any other attempt at safety. “Looks a bit tricky getting up there. Have any words of bardic inspiration?”

The rat glanced behind him as he started climbing, giving Azalon a confused look for a moment, “Eh? Oh, inspiration. Um, sorry. I’m not really that kind of bard.”

Azalon tilted his head to the side, regarding the rat and following a short distance behind, “Oh? I’m afraid I don’t know much about scalds. They tell stories and recite poems rather than singing or playing an instrument though right?”

Bendigo nodded, “Yeah, just about that right.”

“Well, how about a quick tale then? Maybe something from your homeland? Caldwyn has always fascinated me; the snowy plains, the rugged mountains.”

“Mmm, yeah, not really something we got time for. Gotta stay alert up here.”

The fox frowned a bit, following the rat to the top of the stairs. He had never heard of a bard turning down a chance to perform. He didn’t even think such a thing was possible. It was like meeting an equian reluctant to pull his dick out, something that just didn’t happen. The more he thought about it, something seemed off about the rat. Though he hadn’t outright lied to him, Azalon didn’t think he was getting the full story either. It was possible to tell the truth and still be deceitful after all.

As they reached the top of the stairs the rat gave a quick hand motion, which the fox assumed meant for him to follow. Trusting the rat enough to at least keep an eye out for danger, the fox decided to do what he often did when faced with a confounding problem; research.

Azalon concentrated on opening up his Akasha, pushing into the Arcanum of Secrets as words and symbols began to float in the air in front of him. The floating text was created by some trick of illusion magic, and something that only he could see, so he knew Bendigo wouldn’t notice as he began to search through his bookshelf. One of the skills he had invested in was the ability to recall the contents of any book he had read. Though it was a costly mana investment, it was something he knew would be useful to a scholar, especially a traveling one.

It didn’t take long for him to find a book on Caldwynnian culture. Keeping half of his attention on following the ratten he started to flip through the pages, looking for anything about scalds or their abilities. If there was one thing in particular that was bothering him, it was the fact that he didn’t truly understand Bendigo’s motivations. While deciphering an ancient Rhysh mural was certainly of interest to Azalon, he didn’t see how that would really help the scald at all.

Azalon nearly ran into the rat when he came to a sudden stop. They had come to a crack between two boulders off to one side of the path. Looking between the huge black rocks Azalon could see a less traveled path winding its way beyond them. Giving the fox a nod Bendigo ducked between the rocks, “This way. Not far now.”

He followed the rat onward, finding it a bit more difficult to read as the narrow path squeezed through tight rocky cracks and inched past precipitous drops. What he found didn’t seem too useful. There was actually very little that was written about the stories scalds told, or how they were learned, or changed over time. He did learn that each scald was associated with a house or a tribe. Usually the night before a battle or some other important event the house would host a great feast. The scalds in attendance would recite the heroic tales of their people, filling their audience with strength and confidence that would last for days.

While that would explain why Bendigo wasn’t as eager to perform as other bards he had known, Azalon still felt a creeping suspicion towards the rat. Perhaps it was his somewhat shabby style of dress, or the fact that he seemed to be growing increasingly nervous as they approached their destination.

Smiling at the rat he asked, “Oh, I had meant to ask earlier. Which house are you associated with?”

Bendigo kept his focus on the road ahead and after a brief pause he said, “Ironeyes”

Finding another text on Caldwynnian households, Azalon quickly read up on the house. It was one of the smaller houses, barely two hundred tribesmen. The kind of house you’d have to be a local to really know anything about. Fortunately for the fox the Caldwynnian lorekeepers took their job seriously and recorded the names of several important people in the tribe.

“Ahh, then you must know Lore Keeper Dafydd and Master Vendrick?” One of the names he’d pulled from the book while the other he made up entirely, just to see how the ratten would answer.

It took a little while for the rat to answer, but eventually he nodded, “Aye. Heard of ‘em.”

Azalon felt his body tense, realizing just now how dangerous this ratten might be. He had grown accustomed to being able to tell when someone lied to him, but even though he had clearly caught the rat in a lie, he couldn’t feel it. Somehow he was able to evade that particular skill. In fact, the fox realized he could have been lying this entire time, about everything.

“You’ve heard of both of them?”

The vulpine frowned at Bendigo as he stopped walking, expecting him to start coming up with a new elaborate story. What Azalon hadn’t expected was for the rat to suddenly spin on the ball of his foot, whipping his arm around and plunging his dagger into the fox’s side.