Befriending Small Animals

"I;m Mike." He replied, feeling a small smile forming on his face. He was having a hard time not getting caught up in her pace. Out of curiosity, he used Appraise.

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Lara

Age: 16

Race: Beastman (Rabbit)

Class: Trickster

Title: Silvertongue

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[...How the hell is she 16?] He found himself asking. [I suppose it could be a trait of rabbit beastmen, although that's a depressing thought. I had hoped...]

"So, where were you headed? Looking for a place to eat lunch? I happen to know a great tavern, and I can even get you a discount." Lara's smile took on a rapacious quality, which all but admitted her financial involvement in the establishment she recommended.

Mike sighed, dismissing his thoughts of women in bunny costumes. It was still a little early, but he wasn't exactly in a hurry. He figured that he might as well enjoy some of the local flavor. "Alright, I suppose I could use a good meal."

"Excellent choice! Right this way!" She answered excitedly while pulling on his sleeve. "Most of the crew are still out for and Arbitration match, but the cook shouldn't have left. He isn't much of a fighter."

"Arbitration?" Mike asked, not following the flow of conversation at all. He wondered if the word had a different meaning in this world, since he didn't understand the relationship between it and fighting. Although, something about the situation struck a chord in his memories. Hadn't he heard that term recently?

"I know, right? Its crazy to be doing this kind of thing in the middle of the siege. Hopefully, the King will unify the gangs soon, so we can focus on more important things."

[Ah, she must be talking about that contest that the underworld uses to settle their disputes. Luckily, it sounds like she's on Brenden's side.]

"Are you talking about the King of Thieves? I had heard another pretender to the throne popped up recently. Do think he has what it takes to inherit the legacy?"

The beastman whirled suddenly, hands on her hips.

"Hey! He's not a pretender! He's the real deal!" She responded grumpily while staring him down, but looked away after a few seconds. "Although, I suppose he's not very kingly, and he hasn't really done anything to earn the title, and he's been a bit moody since yesterday..."

[Definitely sounds like him.]

She shook her head. "Anyway, he's brave and kind, and a great person. He's done more good for the people of the slums in the last few days than generations of Almiran monarchs, so he's a real King in my book."

Mike made a placating gesture. "Fair enough, I was just curious on your perspective. Sounds like you really like the guy."

She blushed slightly, but waved it off.

"I don't know about that, but he's really fun to tease, and he always gets the right kind of upset when I get him into trouble. My life has been a lot more interesting since he showed up." She replied as they resumed walking.

[Hmm...]

Before he had a chance to ask the question weighing on his mind, she stopped in front of a run-down tavern. Above its door hung a sign reading The Cat's Paw. "Here we are, the finest establishment in the district."

Mike took a moment to inspect the old and obviously poor building before looking back at Lara blankly.

"What? Its not like there is much competition." She answered his unasked question defensively. "The interior is better. Besides, the food is why you are here, right? I can promise you, there aren't any better cooks inside this district."

Shrugging, he followed her in. The interior was a little better. Despite the coarseness of the furniture, the place was kept clean and orderly. At least until a small swarm of beastman children mobbed Lara as she entered the tavern. She was able to squeeze out directions to the common room, before drowning in a sea of small bodies that demanded her participation in playtime.

Chuckling, he walked through the door and found himself a seat at an unoccupied table. While the room was fairly crowded with several young beastmen, he seemed to be the only actual patron, so his entrance earned him a few curious stares. When he sat down, one of the young observers ran out of the room, only to return with an older female beastman, who appeared to be the innkeeper.

He ordered himself a simple vegetable stew with a tankard of ale to drink, and settled in for a relaxing lunch while watching the children playing. They were in the middle of some kind of game that involved three active participants. One would carry a rock in their pocket, while two more tried to get it from him or her through a variety of complicated and intricate means.

The most successful strategy involved having one of the two attackers, for lack of a better term, create a distraction, giving his or her partner a chance to swipe the rock. They accomplished this with an almost professional finesse, so much so, that even Mike had trouble following the act.

It took him a few repetitions to recognize the game for what it was. A training exercise for pick-pocketing.

He was a little saddened by the realization, but figured that he probably shouldn't judge without knowing more. While he wasn't really fond of thieves, despite having one as a familiar, he supposed there were worse ways to make a living. At least it seemed like they were focusing on petty theft, rather than anything too serious or dangerous.

Lara eventually entered the room and sat down across from him. By this point he'd finished the vegetable stew, and was polishing off the remnants with a chunk of black bread.

"Pretty good, right? They don't have much in the way of ingredients, but they know how to make them work." The rabbit beastman smugly commented as she watched Mike eat.

"Yeah, its not bad." He admitted, finding the meal surprisingly delicious. It didn't quite match up to some of the other places he'd been in the past, but the food here was certainly better than the majority of what he had eaten since being reincarnated.

She chuckled arrogantly, but stopped with a strange expression on her face, before leaning towards him and taking a big sniff. "You smell...familiar."

"I'm sorry?" He asked while leaning back, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"I caught a whiff while we were running, but now I'm sure. I've definitely met you before." She frowned. "But where?"

"I don't think we've met, but that doesn't mean you couldn't have encountered my scent at some point. It might just be that we bumped into each other in the street at some point, and then forgot about it afterwards."

"Maybe...but I think-"

Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a sudden commotion from the front door. Upon hearing it, Lara's eyes lit up. "Oh! Your in luck! The King of Thieves has just returned. You were curious about him, right? I'll put in a good word for you. Believe it or not, I'm kind of a big deal in his organization."

Mike checked on Selene's location, and determined that she had gotten much closer.

It looked like he was about to have his meeting with Brenden anyway. Judging from the course of events leading up to this moment, he wondered if his luck had something to do with it.

[Well, lets see what he has to say.]

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Brenden contemplated his next move as his gang returned to the Cat's Paw for their victory celebration. They'd made good progress today. A few more Arbitration matches would see him the master of Almirn's slums, with pockets of influence in other parts of the city.

That, in and of itself, wasn't a great accomplishment, since the district had lacked any kind of strong, centralizing force. The other districts of the city were better organized, with more powerful and influential gangs in control. It would be tough going to get them to bend to his will, but so be it. Their best chance for their survival laid in working together to resist the invaders. If he had to break a few recalcitrant fools to accomplish that, so be it.

He noticed that the men and women around him were silent, and realized that his face was taught with tension and anger. Sighing, he tried to relax and put them at ease. "Alright, good work today. Once we get back to the Paw, the first round's on me!"

A half-hearted cheer rose up from the following gang members, but the furtiveness in their eyes betrayed their unease. They mostly completed the rest of the journey in silence, with only the occasional whispered comment. It seemed that it would take more than a few words to improve their mood.

[I suppose that's understandable, considering the losses we sustained yesterday.]

The core of his organization had taken a rather severe beating, as several key members were either incapacitated or killed during the battle. Thankfully, the majority of the wounded had been healed in the kingdom's infirmary. He hadn't gotten the details yet, but from the sounds of it, a gifted healer had donated his time and energy to curing all of the injured, even among the captured Tenundians.

It seemed a little crazy that someone would do that for free, but Brenden supposed that there must be some benefit to defending the capital city of a nation. If they couldn't provide a decent number of soldiers, at least they secured adequate healing resources.

With the return of the wounded, he was able to organize a few more Arbitration matches, securing vital territory and resources for the next battle. He hoped that the Tenundians would give him enough time to unify the majority of the city's underworld. If he could bring more of the gangs into the conflict, then perhaps he could avoid a repetition of yesterday's debacle.

Brooding on such thoughts, he entered through the doors of the Cat's Paw, and was immediately surrounded by excited children.

"The King's back!" Someone exclaimed.

"Did you win?" A pudgy bear beastman named Francis asked in a hushed voice, awe virtually oozing from his eyes.

Brenden forced his face relax into a smile. He had to try hard to live up to their expectations, even though they made him feel like a fake.

"We did." He announced in as serious a tone as he could manage.

This inspired a round of celebration from the surrounding throng, and he had patiently endure a sudden barrage of celebratory back-slaps, handshakes, and hugs from the tavern's other occupants. He was attempting to remove a young cat beastman, that had attached herself in a lamprey-like manner to his leg while rubbing some of the snot from her runny nose onto his pants, when a familiar pair of white ears entered his vision.

"Oi! You're back! Did you have fun? Did you bring me a souvenir from the docks?" She asked in an ingratiating manner.

He scowled, "I wasn't on vacation! We had an Arbitration match against the Sons of Suldin, who happen to have a team composed entirely of burly dockworkers. I can promise you, it was anything but fun."

"Meh. I doubt they were really a problem for you." She replied dismissively. "Oh! By the way, there's someone I want you to meet. I promised to put in a good word for him, so you should treat him nicely. Think of it as payment for not getting me a souvenir."

He growled, "I was there on business, so I don't owe you anything!" He paused to glare menacingly at her for a few moments, noting with irritation that she maintained her self-satisfied grin, finally, he sighed. "Alright, where is this guy?"

Even with the injured returning, he was short on manpower for managing his growing enterprise. Since Lara had historically been a good judge of character for potential recruits, he figured this person would be worth checking out.

"In the common room." She replied while taking the lead and heading in that direction. "I actually saved him from the Crows, who were about to beat his brains in for the contents of his pockets. Can you believe they're still doing that stuff?"

"If they have the time and energy to waste on that sort of thing, perhaps I should speed up my expansion plans." Brenden murmured, lost in thought.

Lara made a face. "Ugh. Do we have to? They're a bunch of creeps." She passed through the door to the common room and stopped. "Anyway, this is Mike. Mike this is the King of Thieves. Thanks to his generosity, you don't have to bow or anything. Just act normally."

Brenden's mind froze as he laid eyes on the man he'd been avoiding.

Mike smiled apologetically, "Hey, Brenden."