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<blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2864676" data-attributes="member: 10105">Interlude: Enter the RatcatcherIt was a slow morning in the Pig and Pteradon.The regulars were there, of course, slumped in various dark corners of the tavern.&nbsp; It's remarkable, really, how many dark corners the place has.Gerard DeFountaine was making a token effort of polishing the bartop, succeeding only at burnishing the topmost layer of grime to a high sheen.&nbsp; He looked up as the door opened, letting in a weak beam of sunlight that almost seemed to recoil from the squalor thus revealed. A man followed it in, resplendent in a grimy scarlet greatcoat, his clothing streaked and spotted with filth.&quot;Edouard,&quot; the barkeep called, &quot;Good to see you, man!&quot;&quot;And Duchess,&quot; he added, his face falling, as a mastiff-sized rat trotted in behind the ratcatcher.&nbsp; &quot;Can't forget Duchess,&quot; he said mournfully.Edouard Finké doffed his hat, revealing a head largely bereft of hair, and nodded in greeting.&nbsp; &quot;Give us the usual, Gerard.&nbsp; Both of us, if you'd be so kind.&quot;&quot;Whisky it is, then.&nbsp; And...ah...has Duchess refined her tastes at all?&quot;&quot; 'fraid not,&quot; Edoaurd replied as he seated himself at the bar, &quot;You're a creature of habit, ain'tcha girl?&quot;The rat leapt atop the bar, tail lashing, and snarled at the barkeep.&quot;Gin and milk it is, then,&quot; Gerard muttered, filling a bowl.&nbsp; &quot;Bloody disgusting, that.&nbsp; Sin against man and nature.&quot;&quot;But it's been a while, mate,&quot; he continued, &quot;Not since that monumental piss-up, the night after you killed Black Peter!&quot;&quot;Black Peter,&quot; the other man sighed.&nbsp; &quot;Now there was a rat's rat, and no mistake.&nbsp; Almost miss him some days, I do.&nbsp; Takes all the challenge out of ratcatching, him being gone.&quot;Gerard chuckled.&nbsp; &quot;Well, I don't miss him, mate.&nbsp; None of us do.&nbsp; No more baby-eating for that bastard, eh?&quot;&nbsp; He leaned forward, lowering his voice a bit.&nbsp; &quot;Did you do it, then?&nbsp; Like you promised?&quot;&quot;That I did, me friend.&nbsp; Take a look.&quot;&nbsp; Edouard opened his coat, revealing a cuirass of black leather.&nbsp; &quot;Black Peter's own hide, and may it do me more good than it did him.&quot;&quot;It's a shame, in a way, though,&quot; Gerard mused.&nbsp; &quot;Oh, to be sure, he was a murderous beast.&nbsp; But I've never heard a better poet.&quot;&quot;Aye,&quot; Edouard nodded.&nbsp; &quot;That rat could write one hell of a sonnet, he could.&nbsp; And his limericks?&nbsp; None finer.&quot;&quot;Limericks?&nbsp; Never knew Black Peter recited limericks, Edouard. Seems...beneath him, somehow.&nbsp; Too low-brow for him, I should think.&quot;&quot;Not many did know.&nbsp; Only his victims, and it was the last thing they ever heard.&quot;&quot;But how do you....&quot;&quot;He was a fine poet, sure.&nbsp; But too damned arrogant for his own good. Thought he had me finished, and didn't think Duchess was any kind of a threat, her bein' his own kin and all.&quot;He reached out, scratching the enormous beast behind her ears.&nbsp; &quot;Last mistake he ever made, eh darlin'?&quot;Duchess arched her back, and rumbled with pleasure.&nbsp; Gerard, with difficulty, restrained another shudder.&quot;Again,&quot; Edouard sighed, finishing his drink.&nbsp; &quot;Been a long damned night, it has.&quot;Gerard poured, silently staring at the ratcatcher.&nbsp; &quot;No offense,&quot; he offered after a moment, &quot;But you look like hell, Edouard.&quot;Finké nodded, wearily.&nbsp; &quot;I feel like I been shot at and missed, then s--t at and hit, you know?&quot;Gerard nodded, a look of relief on his face.&nbsp; &quot;I wasn't going to mention the smell,&quot; he began, &quot;But....&quot;&quot;I spent the evening,&quot; Edouard interrupted, &quot;In the company of the Four Crazy Bastards.&quot;The tavern went still.&nbsp; &quot;Go on,&quot; exclaimed Gerard.&nbsp; &quot;You're pullin' me leg, right?&nbsp; The Four Crazy Bastards?&nbsp; You?&quot;&quot;Jokin'?&nbsp; Ha.&nbsp; Only wish I was, me friend.&nbsp; Wish I was....&quot;&quot;What, all of them?&quot;Staring into his glass, Edoaurd shook his head.&nbsp; &quot;No, just two of them, and that was enough.&nbsp; The Pretty Man, and the Bloody Archer.&quot;&quot;Is it true,&quot; asked a voice from the corner of the room, &quot;That he dyes his clothes in the blood of his victims?&quot;The ratcatcher considered that for a moment.&nbsp; &quot;Could be,&quot; Edouard concluded, sagely.&nbsp; &quot;Could be, indeed.&quot;Gerard filled another glass, almost eagerly.&nbsp; &quot;What about the others? The Alchemist, with his demon cat?&nbsp; And...&quot; he shuddered, helplessly, &quot;The Pudding Man?&quot;Edouard winced.&nbsp; &quot;No, sir, never saw him.&nbsp; And thank the saints for that!&nbsp; He killed a man with nothin' but a ball of yarn, he did, and I've no desire to look into the eyes of a man who could do that.&quot;He leaned back and sighed, his keen eyes taking in the dozen figures that had moved close to the bar.&nbsp; &quot;It's a hell of a story, it is,&quot; he observes.&nbsp; &quot;But talkin's thirsty work, innit?&quot;A Rukh-Khazaa, his horn broken off short, pushed a coin across the bar.&nbsp; &quot;Give him another,&quot; he rasped.&nbsp; &quot;And the rat, too.&quot;&quot;Obliged,&quot; the ratchatcher said cheerily.&nbsp; He considered for a moment, and then nodded to himself.&quot;It all began at the Temple of Kruetzel....&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Rolzup, post: 2864676, member: 10105"] [b]Interlude: Enter the Ratcatcher[/b] It was a slow morning in the Pig and Pteradon. The regulars were there, of course, slumped in various dark corners of the tavern. It's remarkable, really, how many dark corners the place has. Gerard DeFountaine was making a token effort of polishing the bartop, succeeding only at burnishing the topmost layer of grime to a high sheen. He looked up as the door opened, letting in a weak beam of sunlight that almost seemed to recoil from the squalor thus revealed. A man followed it in, resplendent in a grimy scarlet greatcoat, his clothing streaked and spotted with filth. "Edouard," the barkeep called, "Good to see you, man!" "And Duchess," he added, his face falling, as a mastiff-sized rat trotted in behind the ratcatcher. "Can't forget Duchess," he said mournfully. Edouard Finké doffed his hat, revealing a head largely bereft of hair, and nodded in greeting. "Give us the usual, Gerard. Both of us, if you'd be so kind." "Whisky it is, then. And...ah...has Duchess refined her tastes at all?" " 'fraid not," Edoaurd replied as he seated himself at the bar, "You're a creature of habit, ain'tcha girl?" The rat leapt atop the bar, tail lashing, and snarled at the barkeep. "Gin and milk it is, then," Gerard muttered, filling a bowl. "Bloody disgusting, that. Sin against man and nature." "But it's been a while, mate," he continued, "Not since that monumental piss-up, the night after you killed Black Peter!" "Black Peter," the other man sighed. "Now there was a rat's rat, and no mistake. Almost miss him some days, I do. Takes all the challenge out of ratcatching, him being gone." Gerard chuckled. "Well, I don't miss him, mate. None of us do. No more baby-eating for that bastard, eh?" He leaned forward, lowering his voice a bit. "Did you do it, then? Like you promised?" "That I did, me friend. Take a look." Edouard opened his coat, revealing a cuirass of black leather. "Black Peter's own hide, and may it do me more good than it did him." "It's a shame, in a way, though," Gerard mused. "Oh, to be sure, he was a murderous beast. But I've never heard a better poet." "Aye," Edouard nodded. "That rat could write one hell of a sonnet, he could. And his limericks? None finer." "Limericks? Never knew Black Peter recited limericks, Edouard. Seems...beneath him, somehow. Too low-brow for him, I should think." "Not many did know. Only his victims, and it was the last thing [i]they[/i] ever heard." "But how do you...." "He was a fine poet, sure. But too damned arrogant for his own good. Thought he had me finished, and didn't think Duchess was any kind of a threat, her bein' his own kin and all." He reached out, scratching the enormous beast behind her ears. "Last mistake [i]he[/i] ever made, eh darlin'?" Duchess arched her back, and rumbled with pleasure. Gerard, with difficulty, restrained another shudder. "Again," Edouard sighed, finishing his drink. "Been a long damned night, it has." Gerard poured, silently staring at the ratcatcher. "No offense," he offered after a moment, "But you look like hell, Edouard." Finké nodded, wearily. "I feel like I been shot at and missed, then s--t at and hit, you know?" Gerard nodded, a look of relief on his face. "I wasn't going to mention the smell," he began, "But...." "I spent the evening," Edouard interrupted, "In the company of the Four Crazy Bastards." The tavern went still. "Go on," exclaimed Gerard. "You're pullin' me leg, right? The Four Crazy Bastards? You?" "Jokin'? Ha. Only wish I was, me friend. Wish I was...." "What, all of them?" Staring into his glass, Edoaurd shook his head. "No, just two of them, and that was enough. The Pretty Man, and the Bloody Archer." "Is it true," asked a voice from the corner of the room, "That he dyes his clothes in the blood of his victims?" The ratcatcher considered that for a moment. "Could be," Edouard concluded, sagely. "Could be, indeed." Gerard filled another glass, almost eagerly. "What about the others? The Alchemist, with his demon cat? And..." he shuddered, helplessly, "The Pudding Man?" Edouard winced. "No, sir, never saw him. And thank the saints for that! He killed a man with nothin' but a ball of yarn, he did, and I've no desire to look into the eyes of a man who could do [i]that[/i]." He leaned back and sighed, his keen eyes taking in the dozen figures that had moved close to the bar. "It's a hell of a story, it is," he observes. "But talkin's thirsty work, innit?" A Rukh-Khazaa, his horn broken off short, pushed a coin across the bar. "Give him another," he rasped. "And the rat, too." "Obliged," the ratchatcher said cheerily. He considered for a moment, and then nodded to himself. "It all began at the Temple of Kruetzel...." [/QUOTE]

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