They couldn't lure weak-minded people in with intoxicants that they did not possess.
They had to find some cur who would be willing to assist them.
For a murderer, Ted had shamefully few connections to the underworld of Neul. He couldn't exactly ask around about it, either. That would have been suspicious in itself.
He went to knock on the door of his absolute last hope.
Eknie raised an eyebrow – and that expression was insolent enough that in a different situation, it could have been her last one.
"Yes, him," Ted said impatiently. "I know. We don't like him, he doesn't like us, horrible. Get over it."
A man opened the door.
The most notable thing about him was his smile, full of rotten teeth.
This man, Royn, was the one to be contacted in all matters concerning moonshine and the paw. His entire being was pierced by debauchery; the stains on his collar told many tales. One told the story of wine, while the other had to be blood, lacking the slight, cold, blue tint known to those who had seen lots of both liquids spilling over and drying up on sheets, shirts and souls.
Royn's voice did not quite match his expression. He sounded so sour that Ted considered just backing away from the whole thing.
"You are neither wanted or needed here, cor."
Ted saw the outline of a gun inside Royn's coat.
Ted knew he did not have enough time to react if things really went south.
"Money, Royn," he said. "Ask for it and you shall receive."
"I have little use for that." The man shook his head, but it seemed like the blatant bribery was paying off. He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his pants and let Ted and Eknie into his filthy kitchen.
To say that the kitchen was infested with rats would have been offensive to the cat-sized, monstrous rodent sitting next to a piece of bread. No, that thing was probably doing its own taxes already.
They got so big and clever that it was barely even appropriate to kill them with traditional methods. Instead, Ted would have executed this specimen honorably, like a legendary creature of that sort should have been slain. It did escape from him, though, and he felt like it would not have been very courteous to shoot at things inside a kitchen that did not belong to him.
"You see, no landlord will have me, due to my reputation," Royn explained and pulled out three chairs.
Neither Ted nor Eknie sat down.
"And neither can I own an apartment, because…who wants a smuggler and a moonlight merchant as a neighbor? In any case, I am soon in need of another source of income, a place for my bed and business, or both. And I suppose that you, cor Tobias, can't give me those things."
"On the contrary." Ted smiled. "Both, you say? Would that be ideal? It must be tiring, dealing with dangerous and unstable people every night. Wouldn't you like to quit doing that? A roof, three warm meals, maybe a cinnamon bun for breakfast with your coffee? Would that be so terrible? I know you have some dislikes that manifest themselves in me and my lady friend. But could you get over that stuff, Royn?"
Royn got over his dislikes and was able to move relatively quickly in order to join the Society. However, he had to be forced to take a bath, and that was, emotionally and cognitively speaking, a rather exhausting conversation.
Royn was to supply the future cultists with enough booze and paw that they would not die of seizures or withdrawal-induced suicidality. He was willing to do that, but something was nibbling away at Ted's mental peace as the degenerate made his bed into the cozy sleeping space for Fireflies.
Ted ran the idea by his friends in the city watch. It sounded like a bad thing, like Eknie said, but a surprising consensus emerged.
Everything had been tried already. Perhaps it was time to try an entirely unconventional approach on the treatment of addicts. This would keep them off the streets, and hopefully help them sober up as well. The problem with the drunkards and the paw users had been going on since the beginning of the time, and no one had ever made up a lasting solution.
His efforts were greatly appreciated.
"I can't believe it worked, they really think I have empathy for those cretins!" Ted laughed.
He was having his evening coffee with Eknie, who had also taken to drinking the stimulating beverage around nine o'clock. They slept in, and stayed up late in order to get the most out of the dark hours of the night.
"Do you have empathy for anything except for dogs?" Eknie asked with a knowing smirk.
Ted thought about it for a moment.
"Sure, I like cats, too," he said. "I am not a complete monster. In fact, I am honest about myself, to myself, and that alone would be enough to place me above everyone else. Can you claim you have seen honesty like mine?"
Eknie agreed that it was a wonderful thing that he knew himself so well.
"I think Royn is doing something. Or planning to do something, I don't know for sure." Ted shook his head. "But in any case, I think he should overdose on paw after he has done his job."
"I do need to keep an eye on him." Eknie sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I feel like he is not as suspicious of me as he is of you."
Ted thought this was a good idea. He had to go out, alone, with a bottle and a pipe full of the paw in order to lure in the addicts.
He was under suspicion already, he knew that, but his charm was stronger than the doubts.
He would eventually move the cult to the Fin, he was certain that it would be a much better place for the society.