Orion stirred to the sound of distant shouting. He drowsily dug into his pillow and stayed there until the muffled words rang in his ears, grating at his mind. The dim light bloomed as he pulled the curtains, revealing the room. There was a bed by the centre, a wardrobe by the exit, and an oak table by another door. While the decorations were as bare as in The Little Sip, there was the addition of walking space between the furniture.
He dragged himself to the door and entered the bathroom where he used the bucket of water to wash the dirt and sweat off, before drying off and coming to his wardrobe. Opening it, he met his newly bought clothes – dyed Blacktip-leather jacket and trousers, and a cloth shirt. He had gone up the dark-stone laden path by the market to buy these clothes, and it had taken a few days for the dyes to stick, but it was worth it.
The clothes were comfortable and sturdy, that was as long as he didn't fight vampires to the death every other weekend. Further, anyone nosy like Smith would have a hard time telling its material unless they molested him. Of course, the downside was that he was ten gold coins poorer, over half his wealth.
After dressing, he wore his shortsword over his back, a fashion that had recently picked up, and placed his daggers in their holds by his hip. They were sharp and unassuming, giving him the edge of surprise if he ever needed it. The newly bought weapons had cost four gold coins in total, leaving him three golds and five silvers in hand.
Fully equipped, Orion checked the mirror in the wardrobe. His skin had tanned to a light hay-like colour. The bags under his eyes had grown, as had his black hair, now midway between finger-length and hand-length; he'd have to get it cut soon, maybe after this mission. The dull red crack-like scars from his left cheek to his jaw still stood out, though not as much.
The biggest difference, however, came through his posture; no longer were his shoulders slumped and his head down, they had straightened, and he could even see the inkling of hope in his eyes – he could, and would, avenge his family. Smiling, he picked up his possessions from the room and put them in his maroon bag, before stepping out. Today was the day.
He hopped down the stairs and came to the main room, the air thick with roasted meat. Kora was easily found with her head down and her face stuffed in food, her plate filled with meat, bread, and a gravy dip unique to The Fat Munch. Picking up a plate, he filled it from the buffet and took a seat next to Kora with a large mug of eastern ale. While he had found, and to an extent still found, it bitter, the taste had grown on him after staying at the inn for a week.
Picking up a handful of veg, he placed it on her plate. "My mum always said veg was good for you,"
"Your momma wasn't a vampire," she said, glaring at the green goodness. "Besides, I didn't eat them any of the other days, why do you think I would start now?"
He downed half his drink and glanced at her. She stilled looked the same, her skin tanned, her eyes large and black, her hair long and caramel-brown, her lips covered with bits of food. She wasn't a pretty sight when she transformed, but she was now with her maroon cloak and her new yellow jacket under. Ok, she would look better if she knew how to eat with some common decency but no one could have it all. "Well, now's as good a time as any to start,"
Since he had said this for the sake of it, he was surprised when she actually picked up a green and crunched off its head. He wasn't very surprised when she spat it out, looking at him with a face of disgust while he chortled.
She wouldn't talk to him for the next few minutes and only started once they reached Ginger's den after leaving The Fat Munch.
"Today," she muttered, "Don't fuck it up. We can beat weaklings, but we'll die if anyone there suspects us,"
He nodded. This wasn't a chase and kill mission where they used their full strengths. Rather, the opposite: they would have to hide who they were to the fullest, and if the monsters there figured out their identities, then… Then, the last of the Zakari line would fall to street rats born and raised in shit-filled alleyways.
The two Seekers were confused when they saw Skitters leaning on a walking stick by the entrance to the fort. He had left for his home a week ago, insisting he needed no help and that he would rest. In his occupation, you could only work with two speedy legs and not with a limping one.
"Hey, Skitters, I thought I told you it'd take a few weeks for that to heal?" Kora said.
"Heh heh, don't worry girly - I've been through worse. I'm here to tell you about summin,"
"Hmm?"
The thief began plodding away from the fort, gesturing them to follow. "I've been quiet about it, y'know, you knocking me out and killing that Mage. I'm thankful, I really am, and I've been silent since you're both too strong for me to say anything," He laughed in a self-deprecating manner. "But, y'know, it's 'cause I'm thankful I wanna say this, since you two are clearly new blood."
"Sure, what you got to say?" Kora said.
Orion walked on the other side of Skitters. He hoped the thief would know his limits, know what he could and couldn't say. Because if he didn't, Orion knew Kora would kill him without a second thought.
"Stay low in the meeting. It's Rats's place, and everyone's got the feeling something big's gonna happen. I would say the second you notice something's up, leave. It's Rats, the Underking of Killers, anything he's hiding will lead to death somehow,"
The Seekers nodded. "You got an idea of what it is?"
"You two are good kids so I'll tell you. I work for a man who knows a lot about the city, and he's told us to be ready. You don't have to be a genius to link being ready and Rat's celebration together, y'know? So be careful,"
"Thanks, Skitters. Hope you get that home in town," Kora said as Skitters stopped and gestured them to go.
"As do I, girly. It'll be a few months with my leg but you two better come and visit me then,"
"We will, we will," Orion said, smiling.
Skitters twirled his curly hair as he watched the two Seekers walk off into the distance. He leaned his weight off his walking stick and onto his feet once they disappeared. One job down, so many more to do. It seemed there would be no rest for him in the coming days.