Chapter 25: Too many are born with the sun on their faces

Chapter 25: Too many are born with the sun on their faces

Jacopo moved through the tight dwarven halls quickly and quietly. There were no cracks in the walls for him to slink through, so instead he had to rely on the shadows in order to make his way through. Dwarven darkvision may have made that a problem, but because they lined their halls with braziers that cast harsh light, they may as well have had human eyesight. A price they paid for aesthetics. This was an insight that Jacopo had thanks to his connections with Dantes rather than independently.

Hed noticed hed had a lot of those kinds of insights since theyd been bonded. The vast majority meant nothing to him. Even this one wasnt vital in his mind. Who cared why the dwarves couldnt see him? Who cared that they were called dwarves? What mattered was that he could move quickly and quietly past them. Though even the reasons he was there were still confusing to him. When Dantes had explained revenge to him, he had felt very strongly that it was something that he wanted. In the past when another rat had stolen from him, or a human had attempted to trap him or threw a rock his way, hed felt no such feelings, but since being connected to Dantes, hed felt strongly about every slight, and the memory of his near death at the hands of Iron in the Mine, made his blood boil.

He wove through a few of the tunnels, hiding against the wall when a dwarf loaded down with goods made his way through to the undermarket. He passed by a few more as he began moving through the maze-like halls of dwarven territory. One was dragging a bound elf around, another was hauling stone, and a third was vomiting in the corner, reeking of alcohol nearly as strongly as Mez had been when hed seen him earlier.

Jacopo sniffed the air. He smelled food, and drink nearby. Dantes urged him in that direction. The last time hed seen Iron it was on a throne in their hall, there was a good chance thats where theyd find him this time. Jacopo made his way in that direction, his near silent footfalls further muffled by the sounds of drinking and cheer. The room was much better lit than the rest of the hall, but Jacopo had the advantage of everyone being thoroughly focused on their food and drink.

There were more than two dozen dwarves inside. Most of them with well decorated beards that marked them as high up in their clan. Iron himself was nowhere to be found. Jacopo sniffed the air as he scurried into the protective shade of a stone table. They were eating some mixture of mushrooms, skitterling, and broth. Dwarven cuisine was a cultural experience that Dantes had always done his damnedest to avoid, particularly since elements of it would kill him, but he found himself sharing Jacopos hunger for it while he was watching through his eyes, and smelling the rich scents through his snout.

The room was loud, but it only took a few moments for Jacopos ears to filter everything down into individual conversations as he scurried around, and took a moment to nibble at a small spill of their stew.

Damn the knife eared bastards, good riddance to them.

Aye, bunch of assholes. Remember the time one of em stabbed me tween the ribs?

I remember the ones that stabbed you through the cheek, but not the ribs.

That was a halfling, the one I cheated with loaded dice.

Ah yeah. Why did the elves stab you?

I pissed on their boots while they were walking past.

Seems like a bit much to stab someone over. A beating sure, but a stabbing? They took themselves way too seriously.

The door to the room at the far end of the hall was slightly cracked, with candlelight flickering from within. Loud snoring was carried out of the room, and halfway down the hall where it reached Jacopo. He moved inside quickly, sharing excitement with Dantes, a thrill that came with skullduggery that he had been unused to before his bonding.

This room was the best appointed of them all. Intricate dwarven carvings lined the walls. Furniture of stone, carved for the space filled it, and the bed looked the same as one that may have been on the surface in Rendhold. There was even a wooden cabinet in the corner, a true luxury in the Pit.

Dantes priorities sending Jacopo into Clan Stonedust territory were simple. The first priority was information gathering, the second was locating some way to damage Iron and Clan Stonedust. Dantes first instinct in that regard was to find some item of Irons and have Jacopo steal it and then plant it among another dwarf or perhaps even find a way to put it in the possession of the orcs to sow strife among them. When Jacopo moved to the top of the wooden cabinet to survey the room however, another possibility came into play.

Iron was laying on his back, with a younger dwarven man with only a few decorations on his beard laying across his chest. They were both asleep, and on a small stone table next to the bed, sat Irons blunderbus.

Dantes hesitated to say anything, thinking of the danger his idea may put Jacopo in.

You are not going to suggest it? asked Jacopo internally.

I worry about the risk to you. Were linked, I dont want to put you in too much unnecessary danger.

I want to do it, sent Jacopo. That gnawing feeling hed gotten from Dantes was stronger than it had been before. The hunger for revenge.

Dantes felt it too. His hesitation evaporated when he realized that they shared the same feeling on the matter.

Jacopo moved to the side table, climbing up easily, his movements silent in comparison to the loud dwarven snoring that was occurring. The blunderbus wasnt angled quite right, so Jacopo had to move it before firing to maximize the damage it would cause. The blunderbuss was massive to Jacopo, but he grabbed the end, and began pulling. It made a loud scraping noise, but the two dwarves kept snoring, undisturbed. Jacopo heaved it just a bit further.

Huh- whats tha-

Jacopo froze as Iron sat up briefly and looked around. His eyes half lidded and bleary. The man that had been laying against him patted his chest a few times, and Iron gradually settled down.

Jacopo settled, and shimmied around to the trigger. Neither Jacopo, nor Dantes had a lot of experience with firearms. They were rare, even on the surface, and had only really been adopted by dwarven artisans and a few enterprising humans. It was because of this, that when Jacopo pulled the trigger, he and Dantes didnt even remotely consider the idea of recoil.