Dot and delete away folks.
The two of you sit in the surprisingly clean cell, waiting for your inevitable release. As long as you can pay having your debts, minor crimes don't leave you in the lock-up for long in Hajoth Hakados.
Aster exchanging names and generally getting a feel for watch other, Shiras opens up to Damian about an interesting opportunity...
"Bye, Val. Tell Konnir I'll see him in a few days." Darain waved goodbye. She'd come by to bring him some lunch and berate him about being locked up again.
She grinned over her shoulder and threw up a rude gesture as the guards watched her hips swaying out the door. Darian thought about saying something about the guards' roving eyes, but he decided not to. Val was pretty and the guards were pretty harmless. Let 'em look. He knew she'd speak up if they got out of line.
He sat back down on the too-small bed and handed half of the sandwich Val had brought to his furry cell-mate.
"So, what were you saying before she came? Sounded interesting."
"I was saying that I hate cultists. They always think their God is better than everyone else's. Preaching all high and mighty. Doesn't normally even matter which God they're going on about. It's the way they do it. Like the rest of us are too dumb to decide which God to follow. I'd like to bash their faces in with rocks" the little ratfolk said, her hands balled up into fists.
"Then they start messing with you. Following you around, spreading lies about you. And if that doesn't work they get physical, even violent. I ought to feed them to Gur. He'd eat like a king for weeks."
She glanced around the room, looking for anyone who might be paying too much attention to her before she scooted closer to Darian and lowered her voice.
"Say, you look like you can handle yourself. Interested in making some coins? There's a group of cultists in the mountains near Torch. I'd like to rough them up for a change. I can pays...once we get out of here. Oh, and you can keep anything we take, first dibs. I swears."
Darian's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that kind of ferocity from a cute little... mouse... person.
"Well, I think the god in question probably does matter. Cults can be bad, but the flavor of bad is going to depend a lot on what they believe. A cult dedicated to Geryon is going to be a whole hell of a lot worse for the world than a cult of Arshea, you know?"
"I'm not going to say you're wrong. Sounds like this is pretty personal. I'd just like to know a little more before I agree to walk into a bunch of peoples' home and start putting them to the sword."
"They are skin-slicers. The flesh fleyers. They mangle their own forms, and each other's, and take pleasure in the pain. I would give them different pain. Followers of Zon Kuthon they are. I would not wish them on enemies."
"We go. Scout. Watch. See. Then decide. Yes?"
Darian nodded his agreement. "Shoulda just led with that. Yeah, I'm in."
He looked around at the cell. "Once we're out, anyway."
Just as you finish talking, you hear the *CLANK* of the heavy lock turning and the door swings open.
"Gerrup you miscreants, paperwork's done. Just don't steal anything, how hard is it?"
The guard escorts you from the building and you collect your possessions from the gatekeeper, before departing together for the nearest tavern, The Bawdy Spittoon where Fritz awaits the release of Damian.
"Fritz, this is Shiras. Shiras, this ner-do-well is Fritz." Darian said as introduction.
"Shiras has a job for us. Busting up Kuthonites."
Fritz raised an eyebrow, looking over Shiras.
"The guys that moan all creepy-like when you twist their arm so far it's 'bout to come out the socket? Those Kuthonites?"
"Oh, so you've met them." Darian grinned.
He ordered drinks and asked Shiras "What else can you tell us?"
"Not much. Friend of friend told friend about them. Friend of friend is in Torch. Him priest of my god, Brigh. Him name Joram Kyte. Him wants cultist gone from mountains near Torch. Friend Harmel Grorx asked me about it, says big money if done. I like big money. Don't like cultists. Don't like Zon Kuthon. Not good god. You like big money?"
"We go. Scout. Look. See. Or go, talk to Joram. Ask questions. Up to you.
I bring Gur."
"Big money sounds good. What's a gur?"
"I like beating people up for cash..."
He grins widely. "Okay, I'm in. Let's get this Gur and break some faces."
After gathering some supplies, and Shiras's mysterious Gur, you begin the four day trek into the highlands above Torch.
Somoewhat suprisingly for a trek through the highlands of Numeria you don't encounter any mutated beasts or dangerous individuals on your journey.
An uneventful four days later you arrive at the base of a path up to what you can see is a worse-for-wear temple, juxtaposed into the blasted hill into which it is built.
All you know about the cultists is that several people from the nearby town of Torch have gone missing over the past few weeks, and that Joram Kyte, the town's priest of Brigh, has requested you (through an intermediary) to investigate these cultists and, if required, deal with them.
"Wait, Gur is a lion?" Darian said taking an involuntary step back when the big cat came out of the shadows when Shiras called him.
he looked back and forth between the pair. "How the hell did that happen? Please tell me you pulled a thorn out of his paw..."
"Yes, Gur him lion. Him friend. No eat him. Gur, no eat them." The lion simply stared back, eventually yawning. His large teeth were only dwarfed by the large cat's massive tongue. He licked his mouth as he sat down and began to clean himself."
"Uh, don't know. Trap trapped. Me untrapped, then go sleep, wake up swimming." She shrugged. There was obviously more to the story but Shiras seemed done telling it at this point.
"So...town or mountains?"
"Torch is my home town. I should probably stop in and tell the family I'm out of jail. I'll introduce you. Val will love Gur." Darian said. "Then we can talk to the priest and see if they have any specifics we should know about."
"And then we break faces?"
Fritz is as to the point as ever.
"I want to get to that part. And the money part."
"I like this one" Shiras said with a hooked thumb, pointing at Fritz.
"Small words. Big paws. Like Gur. We go. Talk. Then break faces."
You approach the door to the temple poking out of the side of the hill. As you do, a voice calls out from inside.
"Greetings, travellers in this harsh land. Have you come to receive the wisdom of The Midnight Lord?"
"Something like that." Darian said cheerfully. "We're looking for some folks. Open up, we'll talk."
You hear a bolt retract and the door swings open to a cloaked man with more peircings than you have ever seen adorning his face beckons you inside.
"Welcome to our humble house of worship. How may we serve you?"
"There's some people who have gone missing. We've been hired to find them. We heard they might be here. Mind if we look around?" Darian asked in a friendly tone.