by Robert Bevan
“I don't know. I...” Stacy considered how shallow she was about to sound, but couldn't come up with a lie that sounded any better than the truth. “I got distracted looking in the mirror.”
Dolazar smirked. “Someone's a little full of themselves.”
“It wasn't like that. There just happened to be a mirror there, and I hadn't seen my hair since you forced me to cut it off. I only turned away for a second. You've been staring at these bagels like you've never seen one before.”
“What's a bagel?”
“What the hell do you think?” Stacy pointed at a bagel on the table in front of them. “The thing you've been staring at.”
“I am sorry, miss,” said the dwarven man running the booth. “These are Holy Biscuits. It's a play on words, you see. They have holes in them.”
Stacy sighed. “Yeah, I get it.”
“They were inspired by the coming of the New God.”
“That's very respectful. I'm sure he appreciates you capitalizing on his existence with terrible puns. Now, if you'll please excuse us?” When the dwarf backed away, Stacy glared indignantly back at Dolazar. “We're not here for baked goods. You're supposed to be watching – Cooper?”
Cooper was charging across the street straight toward them.
“MOVE!” He shoved aside those who were too dumbstruck or just plain dumb enough not to get out of his way, then ran right past Stacy and Dolazar.
Looking past him, Stacy saw who he was chasing. It appeared to be an elderly human man who was running a hell of a lot faster than anyone his age had any business running.
“Your purse is gone,” said Dolazar.
Stacy looked down to confirm. “Shit! How could he... I didn't feel anything at all.”
Dolazar shrugged. “Neither did I.”
“But I'm awesome.”
Dolazar gaped at Stacy like she had spiders crawling out of her ears. “You were just checking your hair, were you?”
“Come on!” Stacy grabbed Dolazar's arm and ran after Cooper, just in time to see him leap through the air and tackle that poor old man like he was five yards away from scoring a game-winning touchdown. The nearby market-goers stopped to gawk at them.
“Someone help that poor old man!” cried a woman. “This orc is trying to kill him. Call the kingsguard!”
The last thing they needed was to get the authorities involved.
“Cooper,” said Stacy when she and Dolazar caught up to him. “What are you doing?”
“This geriatric fucker stole your purse.” Cooper scowled at the woman who was shouting for help. “And I'm a half-orc, thank you very much.”
“Please!” cried the old man, pinned down beneath Cooper's girth. “My old bones! I am innocent! This beast means to murder me.”
His face was wrinkled and filthy. His dirty white beard was long and grizzled. Stacy feared he wasn't a wererat, or part of any guild at all, but rather just an elderly homeless man who spotted an opportunity to feed himself for a few days.
“Beast?” said Cooper. “Really, dude? We're in a crowded public place, and you're coming off as a little racist. It's really kinda disgusting.” A long tendril of drool dripped from Cooper's lower lip onto the old man's face.
The old man closed his eyes and struggled as the crowd around them groaned in disgust.
“Oh shit. My bad. Sorry about that. I don't always have control of my... Here, let me wipe that off for you.” Cooper rubbed his spit around on the man's face until a piece of it peeled off in his hand. “What the fuck?”
The crowd gasped in horror as Cooper lifted up the piece of skin to examine it. The woman who'd been shouting for someone to call the kingsguard fainted.
Stacy knelt next to Cooper. “What are you doing?”
“Everyone stand back,” said Dolazar. She took the piece of skin from Cooper's hand. “Skin, but no blood.” She leaned over and peeled away more skin from the struggling old man's face. Not only was there still no blood, but there was a smooth layer of skin underneath. She touched the larger piece to the tip of her tongue. “It is as I suspected. A mask made of dried flour.”
Stacy tugged lightly on the old man's beard. When his struggling didn't change in a way that suggested she was hurting him, she pulled harder, ripping it completely off and eliciting another shocked gasp from the crowd.
“It's fake,” she said, holding it up for everyone to see, as well as to examine it more closely herself. “It's a really good fake though.”
The not-so-old man stopped struggling. “It's not fake. I cut it from a sleeping vagrant.”
After patting him down a bit, Stacy found where he'd stashed her coin purse under his tattered cloak, then pulled it out for the crowd to see. “My coin purse!” She grabbed Cooper's wrist and thrust his hand up high. “This half-orc is a hero!”
A few people in the crowd clapped quietly before everyone suddenly seemed to remember they had other places to be. Stacy got the impression that they'd all been waiting for the cops to show up and beat the snot out of Cooper.
When enough of the crowd had dispersed, Stacy helped the thief to his feet and twisted his arm behind his back.
“Ow!” he said. “You got your gold back. What else do you want from me?”
Stacy shoved him into the alley he'd been headed for, pinned him against the wall by his throat, then reached her other hand into her coin purse.
“You don't get it, do you? We were setting a rat trap. The coin purse was just the bait.” She opened her hand in front of his face, showing him five copper coins.
“The whole bag?”
Stacy nodded, feeling quite satisfied with herself.
The thief shrugged. “It would have been a modest haul, but every little bit helps.”
“That's very... sensible of you.” It was a difficult sentence to say while Stacy was trying to maintain a threatening tone. She loosened her grip on his throat. “What's your name?”
“Jeldon.”
“If I take my hand away, Jeldon, will you run away?”
Jeldon's flour-based makeup was beginning to turn doughy with sweat. “Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I won't run.”
Stacy let go of his throat, then stepped to the side, blocking her side of the alley while Cooper and Dolazar blocked the other.
“Are you a Rat Bastard?” asked Dolazar.
“What?” said Jeldon. “No. I don't know what you're talking about.”
Dolazar rolled her eyes. “We'll kill you if you don't tell us the truth.” Her tone was less threatening and more like just going through the motions of making a threat.
“Okay, okay! Yes, I am a Rat Bastard.”
“Do you know Tim?” asked Stacy. “Is he part of your gang?”
Jeldon's eyes narrowed. “Tim and his pet dwarf betrayed us. They murdered Zippo, stole his Boots of Teleportation, and kidnapped Vaeryn.”
“This dwarf,” said Stacy. “Did he have a name?”
“Yeah. I can't remember what it was. Some stupid dwarf name I'd never heard before.”
“Dave?” asked Cooper.
“Yes, that was it.”
Dolazar laughed. “You must be suffering even heavier losses than I was led to believe. Since when do the Rat Bastards recruit dwarves?”
“We didn't recruit him. He just showed up, and Tim insisted we keep him around. And what Tim wants, Tim gets.”
Cooper frowned. “Are we talking about the same Tim?”
Stacy was wondering the same thing. “Why does Tim get what Tim wants?” she asked Jeldon. “We've got a bit of history with Tim, and he doesn't have a very good track record of getting what he wants. And then he sulks about it and drinks himself into a stupor.”
Jeldon shrugged. “As long as he kept supplying the guns, nobody asked questions. Before long, he was practically running the chapter.”
“It sounds like he had a good thing going,” said Stacy. “Why did he suddenly turn on you?”
“Let me
guess,” said Cooper. “He got balls-ass drunk and flipped out over something stupid and wound up accidentally killing Ziggy.”
Jeldon glared at Cooper. “His name was Zippo. And no, Tim was blinded neither by temper nor drink. His actions were cool and calculated. Zippo had been backing Tim up on his gun-retrieving missions, but this time he decided to try a solo mission. It was unsuccessful. The guards in the other dimension shot him several times before he was able to teleport back to the hideout. Instead of helping him, Tim walked up and shot him directly in the face.”
“Damn!” said Cooper. “That's some cold-blooded shit. But I guess it's not something we haven't seen before.”
Stacy presumed Cooper was referring to when Tim sliced Mordred's throat. “No, this is different. When Tim killed Mordred, he was very much blinded by temper and drink. It was a deliberate fuck you to the rest of us because he was pissed about what he imagined was going on between me and Julian. I don't understand his motivations for killing Zippo. Did it have something to do with this Vaeryn girl you mentioned?”
“No,” said Jeldon. “Vaeryn was just a means to the end of getting away. Tim killed Zippo because he wanted to be the only one with knowledge of how to access this other dimension. When Zippo tried going alone, he became a threat to the power Tim had secured for himself.”
Cooper scratched his ass. “Shit. That's way more thought and ambition than Tim's ever put into anything.” He paused for a moment as Stacy stared at him. “I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't condone murdering your friends, but it's nice to see him finally take some initiative for once.”
“Acquired lycanthropy has been observed to have unique effects on certain subjects' personality and behaviors,” said Dolazar. “I've witnessed paladins renounce their gods and turn into bloodthirsty savages. Even I was quite the meek little flower of a girl before I got bitten.”
“And that's how the disease is transmitted?” said Cooper, scratching his ass a little harder. “Through a bite?”
“The gift,” Dolazar corrected him. “It may be given via blood, saliva, or semen.”
Stacy looked at Cooper's hand scratching under his loincloth, then up at his fearful eyes. “Cooper, you need to be honest with me. Is there a chance you might have contracted lycanthropy?”
“It was a bite,” said Cooper. “I want to be totally clear on that. No semen was involved.”
“Show me.”
Cooper lifted the back of his loincloth. The bottom of his right ass cheek had a series of long purple gashes which Stacy judged to be consistent with toothmarks from a wererat in hybrid form.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“It was yesterday,” said Cooper. “When I was fighting those two dudes in my flooded cell.”
“And why didn't you tell me about this before now?”
Cooper shrugged. “I didn't think it was a big deal. I've gotten bit by shit plenty of times since I've been here.” He shot an annoyed look over his shoulder, then took his axe off his back. “It was just a little bite on the ass,” he reassured it. “I feel fine. No rattier than usual.”
Jeldon and Dolazar exchanged doubtful glances.
“Cooper,” said Stacy. “You'd better listen to Nabi. Remember when she made you kill all those wererats in front of that sewer entrance? What do you think is going to happen when you turn into one?”
“YOU!” cried Jeldon, backing away from Cooper. “You are the one who killed so many of our brothers in the Collapsed Sewer District? You are... the Defecutioner?”
Cooper frowned. “Can I answer those two questions separately? Or are they a package deal?”
“How dare you hunt me down like a common animal for so petty a crime as stealing a bag of copper coins after you ruthlessly slaughtered so many of my kind.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” said Cooper, “it was in self defense... at least at first. We got a little carried away there toward the end, but Nabi insisted they were evil. In fact, she's been nagging me this whole time to kill you two as well.”
Jeldon spat on the ground in front of Cooper. “Insane orc. It isn't worthy to have our gift bestowed upon it.”
“Whoa, dude. I'm picking up a little bit of that racist vibe again.”
Stacy was on Cooper's side, of course, but she couldn't help but see a bit of irony in what he'd just said. “Didn't you just claim that all wererats are evil? That doesn't strike you as a little racist?”
“Lycanthropy isn't a race,” said Cooper. “It's a disease. It's not the same as if I were to say all black people are evil. It's more like if I said all people with AIDS are evil which, now that I say it aloud, still sounds kind of fucked up.”
“Maybe you should think about that next time you decide to indiscriminately slaughter them.”
“I used a bad example. Wererats are actually evil.”
Stacy turned to Dolazar to see if she wanted to play any part in defending herself, but she seemed fascinated by their conversation.
“What makes you the arbiter of good and evil?” she asked Cooper.
“I'm not arbiting shit,” said Cooper. “The rules are written in the Monster Manual. Wererats are evil, cut-and-dried. That's their alignment. If you turn into a wererat, your alignment changes to Evil. Doozlebar said it herself. She used to be a nice person before she got turned.”
“Dolazar,” corrected Dolazar.
Stacy kept the spotlight on Cooper. “I don't know if that's enough evidence to –”
“Then what about Tim?” said Cooper. “He changed, too.”
“Tim was already an asshole and a murderer. I don't think an increase in aptitude for it is proof of a sudden shift in morality. Maybe he just went up a level or something, and became a more effective murderous asshole. What about Dave? I mean, aside from killing that old wizard at the Whore's Head Inn, which can be explained by temporarily losing control during a full moon. That's a standard trope of werewolf movies.”
“Wererat,” corrected Dolazar. “We are not savages.”
Stacy turned to her. “Has Dave, while not under the influence of the moon, shown any noticeable change of character, or any signs of having turned 'evil'?” She accentuated the last word with air quotes.
Dolazar stared blankly at her. “I don't believe I've ever met this person.”
“Oh, right.” Stacy turned to Jeldon. “Well?”
Jeldon shrugged. “I have only known him a short time, and only after the gift was bestowed upon him. I do not know what his behavior was like before.” Just as Stacy was about to give up that line of questioning, he continued. “But he was caught in the lavatory pleasuring himself to Vaeryn while she bathed. This did not sit well with the rest of the chapter.”
“Jesus, Dave,” said Cooper.
Stacy had probably spent less time with Dave than she had with Dolazar, but she knew he and Cooper went back a ways. She thought about how she might phrase her question most delicately.
“Is that... unusual behavior for Dave?”
Cooper shrugged. “Who knows? It's not the sort of thing you talk about. But I'd say no. Dave sucks, but he's not a creep. That's why I believe Dave has changed. I don't know what kind of fucked-up porn he watches when he's alone. He might be into some voyeuristic shit. But he would never have the balls to try it for real, not without some major rewiring in his head.” Cooper paused to squeak out a small fart. “And that's why I also believe that I wasn't affected. My personality and behavior haven't changed at all.”
“Aside from murdering my people,” sneered Jeldon.
“That was before I was bitten,” said Cooper. “And it wouldn't count anyway, because it was an act of Good.” He frowned in reaction to Jeldon's continued seething. “Perhaps that was an insensitive thing to say.”
“There is no way to tell if the gift has taken to you or not,” said Dolazar. “You won't exhibit any signs until the first full moon.” She smiled. “Then, if you have it, it will be plainly obvious.”
Stacy frowned at
Cooper. “It will be a pretty shitty night for you, me, and Nabi if you suddenly rat out on us.” She turned to Dolazar. “Is there any treatment available? Any way to prevent him from turning?”
Dolazar crossed her arms. “If I tell you, will you let us go?”
“Don't act like this isn't information we can easily get from someone else.”
Cooper glared down at his axe. “We can find other evil people to kill.”
Stacy didn't like the idea of letting Dolazar off the hook so easily, but she liked the thought of having to prevent a bloodbath even less. Besides, if Tim had betrayed his little wererat gang, they weren't going to find him here anyway. With Boots of Teleportation, he could be literally anywhere. They were back at square one, except now Cooper might be afflicted with lycanthropy. Getting Cooper sorted out had to be their first priority.
“Fine,” Stacy said to Dolazar. “Tell us how to get rid of the dis– the gift, and we'll let you go.”
“There was an herbalist booth next to the Holy Biscuits.”
“The what?” asked Cooper.
“Bagels,” said Stacy. “Shush.” She turned back to Dolazar. “You were saying?”
“Ask for a sprig of belladonna,” said Dolazar. “The fresher the better.”
Stacy nodded. “Belladonna. Got it. Then what?”
Dolazar stared blankly at her for a moment. “Then, I suppose you come to an agreement on a price and pay the man.”
Stacy rolled her eyes. “No, I mean after we procure the belladonna. What does Cooper have to do with it? Eat it? Smoke it? Rub it all over his body?”
“How should I know?” said Dolazar. “I don't go near the stuff. Ask the herbalist how to prepare it.”
“That's fair.” Stacy took Cooper by the arm. “Let's get you fixed up.” She and Cooper backed away from Dolazar and Jeldon. Jeldon wasn't seething quite so hard now that certain death was no longer the only option on the table.
“One more thing,” said Dolazar when Stacy and Cooper were almost to the end of the alley. “Belladonna will reduce the chances of the gift manifesting in your friend, but it is by no means a guarantee that he will not turn. If he is fortunate enough to receive the gift in spite of your best efforts to refuse it, I hope the two of you will consider joining us. As you are aware, I am now short a few members in my chapter. Your resourcefulness and his strength would be most valuable.”