As the guards milled around the dead end, the group quickly came to attention as a rather well adorned figure entered the section of alley. Odd for a soldier, the higher ranked one that just arrived was a rather obese specimen, looking more like an armor plated meatball than a man. Squat, barely standing at the shoulder of most of the other guardsmen, two beady black eyes looked over the group with vast displeasure, "Well you idiots, where is our prize?"
One of the guards stepped forward to salute, refraining from looking down on this sad excuse for a superior officer, too many had been dragged off and flayed alive for even the slightest hint of looking down on this fatty that had used family ties to rise to his current lofty position, "Sir! We chased the suspected rebels into these alleys expecting to corner them here. When we arrived we found the suspect pair had vanished, we are thinking the other rebels had helped them, or the robed rebel is some sort of magus."
Those dark eyes narrowed, the greasy face scrunched up in fury as a thick hand jabbed out pointing at these men, " You dare let rebels run free?! Find them! I dont care what you have to do, drag these gutter dwellers out of their homes and search board by board, you have until morning dogs, if I dont see that prett... err... those filthy rebels in chains, or their bloody heads at my feet. Yours shall replace theirs. Move worms!" Stalking off the fat little man retreated from the alley cursing at the weakness of his guards for letting that woman go free, he'd spotted the fiery haired beauty when they entered the market, considering where they entered from it was likely they were from that shithole to the south, no one would complain if he laid claim to her and killed her companion. Yet these moronic men couldn't even catch some slip of a girl on their own turf, and they were guards?! He'd have the lot castrated if that woman escaped.
* * * * *
While the lecherous meatball was berating his men and kicking the search into a slums wide manhunt, the pair of suspected rebels were being lead through a series of rooms. Most of them looked like the store rooms of run down homes, barely keeping standing with how much disrepair surrounded Marcus. Marigold was more concerned with their saviour, the short almost anorexic looking figure was covered from head to toe in foul smelling robes. The scent of excrement and days of unwashed sweat assaulted her nose making her wonder if their rescuer was not some beggar or plague carrier. Still, as wretched as the smell was the pair followed close to the one who had literally pulled them out of the fire.
All along their rescuer was muttering to itself, quickly leading them through a series of secret doors and crumbling short hall ways before reaching an actual door. The dreary darkness of the route was somewhat dispelled by the flicking light coming through the spaces surrounding the rough wood door, the raggedy one quickly moved up giving a series of knocks and whistles before the portal opened revealing a rather well maintained guard post, the pair looked to each other as they followed their guide in under the stern gaze of a rather heavy set man, a thick club was cradled in his crossed arms as his eyes followed the pair, as they moved inwards the brute closed the door behind them, sliding a thick locking bar behind it. Marcus marvelled how the seemingly frail door actually hid its existence, anyone trying to kick in the door would get a nasty shock.
Down a flight of stairs the roughness of the stonework soon gave way to a rather lavishly decorated tap room. Various people, both humans and otherwise were busy talking and partying all around the place. The smelly robed one gestured for the pair to follow, leading them through the room, as much as the party didnt stop Marigold could feel almost every eye on her, more than one made her wish she had worn Marcus' robe. Lead inwards they stopped before a raised platform, their rescuer ascended a set of side stairs to whisper in the ear of the roguish man who sat on a throne atop it. Marcus glanced over the fellow feeling I'll at ease, this guy seemed ripped right out of that pirate series, sloven of dressing yet still handsome he supposed, rings glittered on every finger. A thin wispy beard followed his jaw line as he casually rested over the seat with a goblet of wine cradled in his fingers, "Oh, what have you brought me this day my little sewer rat?"
The man's eyes were snake like, taking over the pair with an assessing look. A finger tapped lazily against his goblet as the robed one filled him in before slowly smiling, "Ah guests they are, well done my sewer rat, get yourself a bath then go tell cookie that I said you were do a full portion for tonight." The robed one gave a soft cry of joy before rushing off deeper into the room, "Now what do I do with you my pretty little fairy? Seems you've riled up the guards, caught yourself the gaze of the local magistrate, not good, not good at all my pretty."
"I'm not yer pretty, though ye hav' me thanks for the timely rescue..." Marigold started to counter before the man gave a dismissive laugh.
"Rescue? Sorry my pretty pretty, this was no rescue. Ah but where is my manners? Let me introduce myself, Palious Killdare at your whim my pretty, lord of the Rensdale Thieves Guild. Sewer rat did not bring you before me to save you from the magistrate, no, the wise rat guessed I'd find your company as likable as the magistrate does and brought you to me as a gift. Men, see my new toy to get her properly clothed, kick the spare out, the magistrate can have the spare.."
Marigold growled pulling out her dagger, but Marcus beside her was almost red eyed listening to this asshole lay claim to his Marigold. As the thugs around him sprang to action Marcus tore off his robe grabbing the nearest thief to throw at the coming bully boys. As his reptilian visage was revealed, Palious sat up laughing hard, unconcerned that Marcus and Marigold were fighting back, "Oh by the gods, you brought a lizard folk here of all places? How rich, you really are from the backwaters my pretty. Didnt you know you just served up a feast to the nobles? I take it back boys, capture them both, I get a pretty plaything and a gift that'll put us in the good books of some merchants for sure. Take them!"
Standing back to back, Marcus and Marigold were besieged by the thieves. Encircled, the pair lashed out at any that tried to grab them, but it was a losing fight. The thieves were thick around them, while not as free to attack as the pair was, it was impossible to fight through a room of cut throats bare handed or with Marigolds dagger. Soon enough one rogue got lucky, catching Marigolds arm and pulling her into the waiting arms of his fellows, when Marcus turned to help they jumped his back, piling themselves onto the raging reptile beating him down to the floor in a flurry of punches and kicks. On the far side of the room the sewer rat shuddered, watching the pair get captured and separated, guilt lingering in the rat's eyes, glancing around the sewer rat slipped away, all thoughts of a fuller belly dismissed as it slunk off with a new mission.
Some time later Marcus groaned, waking up he tried to move but found his arms tightly bound. A heavy iron ring sat around his throat, the room reeked of foulness, little wonder being a cell after all, he likely expected all guests of the Thieves Guild found themselves uncared for in rooms such as these, all it was missing he thought, was skeletons bound to the wall, or rat infested straw to serve as a bed. Gritting his teeth he glanced around suddenly, back and forth he shifted taking in the room, he was alone! "Mari! Can you hear me Marigold?!" He shouted wondering if she was in an adjacent cell.
"Oi, ye won't git an answer tha way, yer pretty maid's bein' kept closer ta tha boss, after all she's ta be his new toy fer a bit a'fore he gits bored an' sells 'er ta tha slavers."
A familiar drawl brought his gaze to the barred door, his eyes narrowing as he lunged forward, his body being stopped by a length of chain that connected to his collar. His eyes narrowed and reddened as he stared viciously at the sewer rat that had sold them out.
"Ohhh lordie, ain't you fit ta be tied an' tied ye be. Don't ye worry, boss won't do anyting to yer pretty lass jus' yet. First is yerself, a nancy boyo noble is on 'is way ova to inspect ya, seein' if yer a fighta or a feast I'm guessin'. Likely both knowin' those sick bastids. So 'fore ye gits it inna yet 'ead to pop mine offa my neck, maybe ye lissen an' I can 'elp fix this shite I got ye two into."
Marcus glared but slowed his breathing, slacking back against the chain he looked at the ragged little thief with hostility, "Alright, you have my attention."
"Not like ye ken ignore me is it? A'right! First tings first. Need ta confirm somethin', jest what are ye? I don't know what it is but yer scent ain't right, not for a lizard anyways."
Marcus' face scrunched up, this little thief was complaining about HIS scent? This thief smelled like a chamber pot buried in an outhouse, that was rolled in a pig stye... and HE smelled off?
"Oi! I knows tha look, it's me robe tha smells boyo, 'ard to 'ide mah own scent if I don't wear it, but since it bugs yer lilac smellin' scaley arse..." wriggling under its robe the thief shucked the heavy garment and tossed it aside, Marcus wasn't surprised that the revealed thief was a young girl, her voice didnt mask that fact completely, rather it was the thick rabbit ears that framed her dirty face. A pair of big red eyes watched his reaction and smirked, "See not a rat, a rabbit. If I didn't smell like an ogres back end 'ow long 'fore my own arse was on a plate? So talk boyo, lizard yer not, so why the scales?"
"Dragon."
The bunny girl tilted her head, "Wha bull shite ye tryin' to spout boyo? There be no Dragon folk, no dragons fer that matter, not since tha dragon god left us."
"Leaves only one possibility doesn't it?" Marcus growled giving the girl a withering stare.
"Ah fuck me, yer not serious? Ye can't be fookin' serious! I know me luck is shite but yer tellin' me that yer..."
"The Dragon god, yes I am indeed telling you that is who I am, reborn with my shrine maiden."
The little lapine girl shook her head wildly, her floppy ears swishing back and forth violently, "No fookin' way, jest no fookin' way. Ah shite me, it jest can't be true there's no fookin' way yer tha gods rotted dragon god, its jest not fookin' possible me luck is THAT shite!" Shaking her head and backing away from the cell, she slumped against the corridor wall and slid down to sit on her butt and covered her head, soft sobs whispered from her shaking frame.
Marcus watched her curiously, tilting his head, sure he just blurt his title out but who would believe it? And an street kid no less? In his old world if some old guy told a young hoodlum he was God or Allah or Buddha the kid would likely kick the old fart and still rob him. But this bunny girl believed him in one go? As she'd put it 'no fookin' way!'
By this time the poor girl was bawling, she'd kept her mouth covered but her whole body limply fell forward prostrating before the cell and a bewildered Marcus, a soft whisper escaping the bowed girl, "Fergive dis sinner lord, I didnt see though ye gav' dis one eyes, I deserve death fer trickin' the lord an' 'is consort..."
Marcus watched, wondering just what the hell she was thinking.