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(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

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either - I am something <strong>of</strong> a connoisseur. Return when you have something<br />

<strong>of</strong> value <strong>to</strong> me."<br />

I sighed in relief.<br />

The caverns <strong>be</strong>low Lothar’s residence were rank with the smell <strong>of</strong> old filth<br />

and <strong>of</strong>fal. The scent was sharp, like a foul aged cheese in a cold basement.<br />

Mildew-yellow s<strong>to</strong>ne undulated in crests <strong>be</strong>neath my feet so that the hard<br />

sole <strong>of</strong> my boots see-sawed <strong>be</strong>tween the peaks and troughs with each step.<br />

I should've recognized the stench <strong>of</strong> wererats.<br />

It leaned against a support post for a small bridge. In one hand it held a skin<br />

<strong>of</strong> wine with streaks <strong>of</strong> blood marring the leather; it had likely <strong>be</strong>en looted<br />

from some poor sod that had crossed the creature's path. Finishing <strong>of</strong>f a<br />

deep swig the wererat wiped its muzzle and looked at me with feral red<br />

eyes. There was a cunning danger about it, and the voice that issued from its<br />

mouth was oily and insinuating. "So...a biped comes slinking in<strong>to</strong> the nest <strong>of</strong><br />

Lothar's servants. What <strong>do</strong> you want, man, and where <strong>do</strong> you intend <strong>to</strong> go?<br />

Step lightly, intruder, and speak the truth <strong>to</strong> Mantuok."<br />

Dak'kon's hand rested casually on the hilt <strong>of</strong> his sword and Annah crossed<br />

her arms, looking remarkably casual while her hiding the fact that she was<br />

ready <strong>to</strong> pull out her daggers.<br />

I s<strong>to</strong>od bold enough <strong>to</strong> seem a threat, but <strong>not</strong> so haughty as <strong>to</strong> <strong>be</strong> issuing a<br />

challenge. "Who are you?"<br />

"I am Mantuok. I am the voice <strong>of</strong> Many-as-One and the emissary <strong>of</strong> Lothar,<br />

Master <strong>of</strong> the Bones. I speak here and you answer. What <strong>do</strong> you want<br />

here?"<br />

I cocked my head. "You work for both <strong>of</strong> them? Doesn't that test your<br />

loyalty?"<br />

"And why should it, hm? The Master knows the secrets <strong>of</strong> power, and the<br />

Many know the secrets <strong>of</strong> the city. Perhaps someday I shall play them<br />

against each other and <strong>be</strong>come the greater for it," a sharp buck<strong>to</strong>othed grin<br />

split his features, and I knew that this was a dangerous wererat was more<br />

treacherous than all the others I had come across. "Many-As-One sees many<br />

advantages in such an arrangement... and the conversion <strong>of</strong> the Buried<br />

467

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