Downtown Druid

Jacopo sat across from Magister Desha, the woman Dantes had given money to so that she could become a magister. She wore a black dress with silver thread in an intricate pattern around the neck and sleeves. Her hair, which had still had a bit of orange in it when Dantes had last spoken to her, was now completely blonde, freeing her of any connection she once had to Danglars. She sat up a bit straighter, there was more steal in her spine than she’d had in Dantes’s memories.

“The last hearing for accepting an exiled noble was thirty years ago, but the magister making the judgment in your case is the same one who handled that case, as well as the previous one thirty two years before that,” she said, reading from a piece of parchment.

Jacopo drummed his fingers on her desk impatiently, wishing two-legs had thought it more appropriate to chew on bones casually. The crunch of some bone and the taste of marrow would be good at that moment.

“There are records of some people from your nation coming to Rendhold and being accepted before, but they’re old. Nearly the age of the city itself.”

Jacopo nodded, Vampa had given them the nation's name and Dantes had forged the documents about it himself. Dantes had thought they were perfect, but to Jacopo it was all a bunch of useless scrawls. He could read, it was a skill he was able to pull from Dantes, but he hated it. Even talking was too slow. He simply wanted to take what he wanted and move on from there.

Desha noted his fingers drumming on her brand new desk and frowned. She’d expected some kind of money laundering or backroom deal for Dantes, helping an exiled noble get recognized was not what she’d planned on, especially one she was fairly certain was fake, but that wasn’t her business. He was nice to look at, but that didn’t make up for the gruffness of both him and his bodyguard.

“The main problem, I think, will be the fact that you’re a mutt.”

Jacopo stopped his drumming. “A mutt?”

She nodded. “You’re mixed, you’ve got,” she squinted at him, “ orc, elf, human…a bit of dwarf I’d guess too. Most nobles that come here were pure-blooded, or at worst half-blooded. Sure there are a few mutt nobles here now from interbreeding, but the magister we’re seeing today is old. He’ll be concerned about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the only thing he asks about.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Once he accepts me, you’ll push through my purchases immediately.”

“Of the useless plots of land that used to be sealed off by the guard and everyone forgot about? Yes, though I have far better investments I can steer you toward.”

“We’ll talk about those too. After I get what I want.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

…

Dantes crawled through a narrow gap between stones, using his six legs to pull himself up and over the narrow opening and into a wide chamber. It was as he’d hoped, there was a wide shaft of light peeking into the chamber somehow. He shifted into himself, dusting off his shirt as he started to look around. The chamber was only about ten feet by eleven, though it had definitely been larger before the wall he’d just climbed through had collapsed. There was writing on the walls that he recognized as belonging to whatever the former inhabitants of the pit had been. He ran his hand along a few of them, before pulling away.

The area where the light was coming from, the ceiling seemed almost crystalline, and though he couldn’t look directly at it without blinding himself, it appeared that the light was actually coming through it. He’d heard Clay mention, a long time ago when they’d both been trapped in the Pit, that there were areas the dwarves had accessed that had sunlight and that was how he could grow his weed and other plants. Dantes had assumed they’d found an area that surface light bled through, but this was different. He could tell that he was hundreds of feet below the surface, and yet there was sunlight on his dark gray skin.

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Dantes opened the pouch on his side, and started to pull out seeds. He listened to them, hearing where they wanted to be, then he compared that with his own knowledge of where they’d thrive, and he planted them. When he was done, he pulled a small flask of water out and gave each of them a hardy drink. All of the other sealed off chambers he’d focused on growing mushrooms, molds, and mosses that didn’t require light or much life to survive, but in a well lit chamber he had more options.

When he was done he sat in the chamber and closed his eyes, feeling the life in the seeds begin to grow and open itself. One of the main reasons he’d wanted to come to the Pit was to fully secure his grasp on life in the city. There were so many small nooks and crannies that he could plant gardens in, places no one else would be able to reach, that it seemed like the perfect way to grow and preserve the life within his locus. Jacopo was working on securing his gardens on the surface, among other things, but there was always more to do, more ways to grow.

Dantes shifted into a cat and strode into the sunbeam he’d created. He’d be awake most of the night working with Jayk, meeting with Argenta, spending time with Jacque, and making sure to give Sevryn a healthy dose of his attention. As he slept, his dreams were free of Justice’s axe, but his mind drifted to Jacopo.

…

Jacopo sat in the medium sized chamber with Vampa armored and standing behind him, and Desha next to him. Across from all of them, in a higher seat flanked by an old human woman with a quill and paper, sat Magisten Lodalan.

He looked about middle aged, which meant that as an elf he had a few hundred years under his belt. He wore circular glasses and his long gray and black hair was braided and hung over his left shoulder. He’d been peering at the stack of papers in front of them, pouring over them one by one, as the rest of them waited.

Jacopo felt as if he was going to jump out of his skin. He’d been in two-leg form for most of the day, far longer than he had before. He’d practiced maintaining it, and shifting between it, as Dantes did, but it felt far more uncomfortable for him to maintain two-leg form, than it was for Dantes to maintain rat form. He briefly considered simply leaping forward and shaking the old man until he gave him what he wanted, but decided that would be counterproductive, if satisfying.

“The handwriting on these records is immaculate,” said the old elf in a raspy voice. “The clerks in Telumandi are most skilled.”

Jacopo’s eye twitched since he didn’t have whiskers he could flick in annoyance.

“I have only one question, and that is regarding your ancestry. I was of the understanding that Telumandi is an Elvish kingdom, and yet I see before me a man of Orc and Human descent.” He adjusted his glasses a bit. “In my time we expect nobility to be of a certain… pedigree.”

Jacopo stood up, he could feel Dantes watching things through his eyes, his own frustration boiling over for Jacopo. “My Grandfather married a human princess of a young neighboring kingdom in order to ensure peace and tranquility between them.” he took several steps toward Lodalan, “My grandmother married an orcish merchant prince to secure economic prosperity for Telumandi,” he took one last step to stand looking the elven magister in the eye despite the fact that he was on a raised dais and drew a dagger. “My parents married each other to strengthen the bloodline and strengthen ties within the kingdom.” He began to roll up the silk sleeves over his left arm. “How about I cut my wrists, and you cut yours, and we’ll see whose blood runs a deeper blue.”

The old elf was shrunk back in his chair, his eyes wide and frightened. “I uh, don’t think that will be necessary, Jacopo de Fosse. I, uh, approve your application to be recognized as nobility of Rendhold. Let me be the first to welcome you to our beautiful city as an honored member of its highest class.”

Jacopo sheathed his jewel encrusted dagger, and rolled up his sleeve. He started to walk back toward the exit to the room. He pointed at Desha.

“You, stay here and wrap up,”

He then gestured to Vampa. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Vampa nodded and they walked out together, toward the massive apartment they’d purchased.

“That was very well delivered,” sent Dantes.

“You gave me the words.”

“True, but you sold them. Well done.”

“There was no one else you could have do this? No random man we could make up to be a lord?”

“I already told you, there’s not anyone else I could trust as much, or that I could speak to directly like this. Besides, don’t you think it’s funny?”

“Funny?”

“We just convinced Rendhold that a rat is royalty. This may be the greatest joke that’s ever been told.”

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