In the ninth installment of A Grey Beginning, we take the next horrendous step along the villain Szeethe's dark path. Again, we are witnesses as the future of the city of Crown swings into focus as the demonic, shape-shifting wererat triggers an act that brings about the demise of one and takes him one step closer to his manipulation of the Fiend Fighter...
Szeethe stepped from the darkened door and quickly scanned the narrow cobble-stoned street. It was empty, as was the broader way beyond. Though there were many people in Crown out at this hour, both citizen and...not, none seemed to be bustling about this less prosperous area. The fiendish creature glanced back at the door and stepped into the street. The visit with good Mr. Carunin had been profitable, though not as detailed as he would have liked. He knew much more about the halfling Falem and his association with the dwarven gladiator, Farulazar the Fiend Fighter, but did not yet know where this bookie lived.
Yet he knew where Falem's son, Alfem, worked, and that was more valuable. The key to this dwarf and the blood wealth in the fighting pits lay not in the bookie but in his son. According to the late Carunin, who will soon be drained once the were-rats arrived, Falem had worked with Farulazar for several years. Dwarves were shrewd and noticed even the slightest changes in their associates, so killing this Falem and assuming his identity would never work. One conversation overheard in a groggery would not be enough. Szeethe doubted he would ever be able to make a convincing Falem, even were he given years to prepare - time he did not have.
Alfem, on the other hand, was likely not enough of an acquaintance for the dwarf to notice a change. An evil smile spread on his halfling features as he considered his next move. Falem's son worked a small table in a run-down gambling hall near Deep Harbor. Frequented by many foreigners, a new face would not stand out. It was the perfect place for Szeethe to arrange a meeting.
The demonic were-rat strode down the alley and onto the larger street, turning in the direction of the wharves. His appearance, that of Borom the halfling, remained unchanged as it would be useful in the harbors. The true form of Szeethe would never do, and his visage, that of a common were-rat, would also be more obvious in a gambling establishment. His kindred were not known to be wealthy nor have enough money to throw about for entertainment, not that many visitors to such places could afford to be there. Most could not. On occasion, Szeethe had played on the desperation of losers, harvesting them when he could. But that was a field perused only infrequently.
After a long walk, as the Deep Harbor district was nowhere near dear Carunin's humble business, Szeethe/Borom walked into the seedy dice hall. Inside, the smell of stale pipe smoke and salty, unwashed bodies enveloped him. It was enough to keep most good people out, but it was nothing compared to the stenches Szeethe knew well. The place was noisy with the sounds of dice being tossed, wagers passed, and fortunes being won or lost. A few card tables were running, but those seemed to be private games not open to visitors. The dark creature scanned the room, noticing a fair number of halflings running tables.
A human maid stepped over to him and thrust her hand out, "Two crowns to stand about," she said in a horse, smoker's grunt.
Szeethe dropped two coins in her hand, one a normal crown and the other a Sorilidan full-weight. It was nominally the same weight and purity as a crown and often passed for currency near the ships. The fat woman pocketed them and stepped away. Whether the fee was real, or whether it was small-time larceny, Szeethe did not care. It was worth the price. He started to move into the crowd but then stopped and turned back to the haggish woman.
"My name is Borom," he said, "and I need to find Alfem."
"Eh?" she asked, "There's three Alfem's who work the tables 'ere."
Szeethe frowned. "Can you tell me which one is Falem's son?"
"I don't know their families," said the wench.
"Then point each of them out to me," answered Szeethe impatiently.
The woman looked about and then pointed to a fat, older halfling rifling through some scrolls at an empty table. "He's Alfem," she said.
Szeethe shook his head. She frowned and stuck her hand out to him again, "Another crown and I'll point again."
He fished another coin from his pocket and dropped it in her hand, "That pays for the other two."
She looked at it, a half-crown, and frowned. When she caught his gaze, she jerked back a moment and nodded. Something in his bearing told her not to negotiate. She then pointed two more halflings out. One was a sailor, by the looks of him, which surprised Szeethe as halflings were not known to be sea-farers. The other was a young one who seemed to be doing fairly well running a card game. Szeethe stepped forward, ignoring the woman, and made his way through the crowd to the table where the young Alfem worked.
He arrived as the game was ending, and waited as a saruulan and two humans stepped away from the booth. The men looked down cast while the saruulan seemed pleased with himself. The halfling looked somewhat irritated, as if the game had not gone as planned or had taken a sudden turn for the worse. Szeethe smiled, thinking of the saruulan, who was a kindred of sorts. This Alfem should have known better than to have entertained one of them, but that was none of his business, and soon would be none of Alfem's. When the players were several feet away from the table, Szeethe stepped up.
"Who are you?" asked Alfem, his expression either weary or down-cast.
"My name is Borom," said Szeethe with a disarming smile. "I was sent by your father, Falem."
"And what did dear old dad wish to say," replied Alfem with a snort as he sat down and surveyed the night's results.
Szeethe's smile turned icy for an instant and then returned to benign, "Oh, nothing of great consequence. He merely suggested that I have a drink with you."
"Not buying tonight, thank you," said Alfem with a dismissing gesture.
"Oh, but I am," said Szeethe, "And what I have to offer will be very profitable."
Alfem's brow arched and he appraised the halfling before him for a moment. Then, unable to turn down either a good drink or business opportunity, he shrugged, pointing to the door. "The brew here is not worth drinking and I need some wine," he said, "There is a place down a bit where the vintage is good."
The halfling gathered his gear, stopped briefly at a table where a half-elf was scribbling in a ledger to toss a bag holding what Szeethe assumed to be a percentage of the night's games, and then turned towards the door. The two made their way outside and into the damp night. They strode down the streets for a bit, not talking. Suddenly and without warning, Szeethe grabbed him and tossed him with impossible strength into an alley.
The halfling hit the ground hard and gasped in shock. Alfem turned over and glared back towards his attacker. A look of terror crossed Alfem's face as he looked into Szeethes suddenly reddened eyes as the creature stepped towards him. The halfling made a desperate attempt to escape, but the half-demon merely tossed him back in. The crowds walking beyond did not hear Alfem as his neck shattered under Szeethe's powerful grip, did not hear as his body fell once more to the ground or as his last breath escaped in one, long, ragged gasp.
Szeethe knelt down and stripped Alfem before dressing him in his own garments, the clothes of Borom the now dead halfling. He dressed quickly in Alfem's garments. Standing, he looked about the alley until he saw some a stack of lumber against one wall. He selected a thick timber and then destroyed Alfem's head and face, obliterating his features until all that was left was a pulpy mess of brains, hair, and blood. Szeethe knelt down once more and pulled a blue-stoned ring from the dead halfling's hand.
Sliding the ring onto his own hand, he backed away from his night's business. He closed his eyes and allowed the flesh on his face to contort for a moment, until Borom's features were replaced by Alfem's. This body would not be drained but rather would be left for the Crown Watch to discover. The people who saw Borom at the gambling hall might identify the body, but if they did not it would not matter.
With a wicked smile, Szeethe, now Alfem the halfling, returned to the traffic in front of the hall, passing it by one last time before disappearing into the city. There would be no more work tonight. Tomorrow, on the other hand, he would meet with his dear old dad, Falem. After that, he would have to meet Farulazar, the Fiend Fighter...
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