The fragrant smoke from Tibera's pipe curled and danced in the stagnant air of the ruined hall, a small, almost domestic gesture against the backdrop of squalor and despair. The room the two men were in looked like a normal room with a chair, a bench, and a table which had a lantern in it to illuminate its dark interior. He gestured with the stem of the pipe towards the bench by the pillar of the room, while he himself moved towards the chair and took a seat, crossing his legs and taking another huge puff. Felix settled down; there was the occasional cracking of a whip and shouting curses from outside the room, a constant reminder of his assumed role.
"It's been a long road, little kitty," Tibera began, puffing out smoke, his voice raspy but carrying a hint of the old warmth Felix remembered.
"These old bones creak just thinking about those days we used to travel. You were just a scrawny thing back then, always with your sisters clinging to you like burrs."
A flicker of something akin to fondness crossed Felix's face, quickly masked by the practiced indifference of a seasoned captive.
"Those were hard times."
"Hard times," Tibera echoed, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "But we endured. You, me… even those two spirited sisters of yours, last I heard."
He watched Felix carefully, his sharp eyes missing nothing.
"You seem… different, though. Harder. The fear's gone from your eyes. Replaced by something… else."
Felix offered a carefully neutral smile. "People change, Tibera. I've found... acceptance." He kept his tone deliberately vague, offering no further explanation.
Tibera nodded slowly, accepting the deflection for now.
"Acceptance? Oh, you've finally accepted your fate then? Good. A man needs something to pull him through the muck and keep him stable, even if it's the tether to hell. Speaking of fates," he shifted gears smoothly, "we have a potential buyer for this… collection of ours."
He gestured with his pipe towards the wall separating them from the huddled figures in cells.
"A high-ranking individual. Demands quality, pays handsomely. But," he paused, a shrewd glint in his eye, "the route takes us to Tessaloni."
"Tessaloni," Felix repeated, his voice flat. "An elf?" he asked.
Tibera nodded.
"That's… nice," Felix said, bowing his head and hiding his face in the shadows. It was common knowledge that there was bad blood between the Elves and the Beastmen, but the fact that the elves were actively buying slaves made Felix angry, especially since, as far as he could tell, the majority of Tibera's 'collection' were beastmen, mostly women and children. Felix knew what kind of fate awaited people like them; he closed his eyes and shuddered.
Tibera chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Nice? It's a city of opportunity, boy. We'll finalize the transaction and reign in the bags. Anyway, I'd like you to accompany us."
Felix's brow furrowed slightly, a subtle shift in his carefully constructed apathy.
"What you've told me sounds like a major breakthrough after a long time hunting for cargo. But my instructions were to deliver the six I brought with me from Archadia to a contact in Quava."
Tibera took a long draw from his pipe, the cherry glowing in the dim light.
"And you will. No need to fret. Coincidentally, Quava is our final destination as well. After our business in Tessaloni, we proceed east."
"Why?" Felix asked, the question slipping out before he could fully censor it.
Tibera exhaled a cloud of smoke that momentarily obscured his face.
"Because, my boy, in Quava, we have a rendezvous. A meeting with someone… significant. One of the Crime Lords of the Khaos Nocturni." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the name hang in the air.
"They call him the King of Cruelty."
A flicker of genuine interest sparked in Felix's eyes, quickly veiled again. He leaned forward slightly, feigning casual curiosity. "The King of Cruelty? I've heard whispers."
"Whispers are all most ever hear," Tibera said, his gaze unwavering.
"But we, my boy, we get an audience. And audiences with such individuals… they come with opportunities." He studied Felix intently.
"Opportunities for advancement. For… perhaps even a different kind of freedom than the one you once knew. You immediately shot down the idea of escorting us to Tessaloni as if you have something to hide."
Felix did not move.
Tibera leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"How long are you going to be Marconni's loyal dog? That man, he was a middling sort. Ambitious, yes, but limited. These new contacts… they operate on a different scale. They appreciate talent. They reward loyalty… handsomely." Tibera let the implication hang in the air, his eyes probing Felix for a reaction.
"We've found someone who is more willing to make use of skills like yours, for the right compensation. Someone who understands the value of a … discreet operative. It is through that person that we have the opportunity to meet with a Crime Lord."
Felix affected a thoughtful expression, stroking his chin as if considering the proposition.
"Interesting," he murmured, his tone carefully noncommittal.
"And this… King of Cruelty… what sort of business does he have with this prospective new employer?"
Tibera puffed on his pipe again, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
"Business of all kinds, my boy. The kind that makes empires rise and fall. The kind that requires… certain talents. Talents you seem to possess. Talents that make you valuable." He paused, letting the offer sink in.
"So see us through to Quava. Meet our contact. You might find your 'new fate' aligning with ours in ways you never imagined."
The old man didn't answer Felix's question about the real reason they were going to the Elven nation but knew not to pry, at least not now, lest he raise suspicion.
Felix slowly rose to his feet and paused as if contemplating the old man's offer.
"I appreciate the offer, Tibera. But my commitment lies elsewhere… for now. Let's see how things play out." He kept his tone polite but firm.
"Of course, of course," Tibera said smoothly, though a hint of something unseen flickered in his eyes.
"Business is business. But consider my words, little Kity. Opportunity doesn't knock twice on a slaver's door."
As Felix turned to leave, a seemingly casual question drifted towards him.
"By the way, cat… who exactly is the buyer for those six?"
Felix offered a tight, enigmatic smile.
"Thats is classified old man."
"Hmm, they must be mad rich for such high-quality goods."
He moved away, melting back into the shadows of the ruined hall, his mind already racing.
The King of Cruelty.
The name sent a shiver of something akin to anticipation down his spine. He had made up the lie of going to the Dwarven nation in order to throw his old mentor off and follow the group for a distance until they got a solid foundation. But this, this unexpected detour to Quava, this connection to the Khaos Nocturni… it could be a far greater opportunity than Felix even realized.
But then again, it could be a dead end.
Or a trap.
Still, a chance was a chance. An opportunity to understand the workings of a much larger game, perhaps even to learn more about the forces that moved in the shadows, the very forces Marconni had only been a small cog in. And destroy them.
Tibera watched him go, his gaze thoughtful. He took a long, slow puff from his pipe, the smoke swirling around his weathered face. He then tilted his head back, his eyes fixed on the crumbling ceiling, a faint shake of his head his only outward reaction to Felix's cryptic departure.
The old smuggler had a feeling that "little kitty" was playing a game of his own, one with stakes far higher than mere profit. And Tibera, with a mixture of apprehension and a flicker of his old adventurous spirit, wondered just how dangerous that game might become. He had seen that glint in Felix's eyes before, a spark of ambition and a willingness to walk paths others wouldn't dare.
The boy had indeed achieved acceptance, and Tibera suspected it was one that would lead them all down a very interesting, and potentially very perilous, road in the not-so-distant future.