Over the next few days, Kar’gandin worked his contacts and reached out to representatives of the four gangs they were most interested in doing business with. Lucas was worried that people he knew would know that he was a wanted man, and that they might rat him out for the reward. He even said as much, but the dwarf just responded. “Humans? Maybe. They tend to be short term thinkers, but a dwarf? No chance.”

“You guys are just more loyal, huh?” Lucas asked. “What is it, like a clan thing, or is this just more of your anti-human bigotry?”

“Bah,” the dwarf chuckled. “Why would a dwarf turn me in for a few coins now when he knows my relationship and my favors might net him a hundred-fold more over the next century or two?”

It was an answer that Lucas would have never guessed, but it made sense, and it gave him something to think about while Kar’gandin ironed out the details. A few of the gangs seemed keen, while a couple were less interested, but none of them turned Lucas’s group down. 

After that, the rules were quite simple. Each group would be allowed to only two people to minimize the risks. The message was simple enough: we have blue and can get more, so come have a taste. 

Lucas was satisfied with the message. It was simple and to the point. It directed everyone to meet at the crow cages near the western crossroad at sunset. It was there that the dwarf showed his true value. 

The spot he’d chosen for the meet wasn’t even close to where they planned to do the deal at an inn half a mile to the south called The Fiddler’s Rest, but it was a wide-open area that made ambush impossible. That was smart. Lucas wouldn’t have considered that extra layer of safety, but he certainly approved of it since, in the end, it would just be him and Hura’gh going. 

Since neither the dwarf nor the Viscount were much for fighting, they’d decided that they’d make for a quicker get away with fewer people, and since there was no way Lucas could trust Hura’gh to be the sole messenger, and no way that he was going alone, that was just how it was going to have to be. 

While all of this was going on, Lucas did something more important: product testing. He didn’t test the blue, of course. He knew exactly what a bad idea that would be. He didn’t need to, though. Not when he had a volunteer like Adin was happy to help with this duty. 

After all, Lucas had been forced to lock the clay tankard of diluted narcotics down in a cabinet just to keep the noble's hands off it. The man hand paced back and forth like a starving hound once he’d caught sight of it. 

So, when Lucas presented the man a vial of the stuff he’d expected him to be over the moon. Instead the first words out of his mouth were, “It doesn’t really look like the same stuff, is that the right color?”

Lucas nodded at that. “Good eye. This batch isn’t quite as strong as I’d like,” he lied, “But it’s still more than strong enough to do what it needs to. Next time, maybe we can find more mats, and I can do better.”

Brew of Mana Intoxication (mid-grade) (1 dose): Euphoria 6, poison 2, mana regeneration decreased by 150% for 1 hour. 

In reality, Lucas could have kept it at euphoria 8 without watering it down, but he decided to do so for two reasons. The first was that he figured they’d make a lot more money selling seventy doses than they would forty, and the second was that he was hoping to ween Adin off the stuff. 

That would be impossible if he kept feeding him the full strength dose, of course, but something like this - that might be enough to make him high and enough for him to decide it wasn’t that big a deal. While they needed a taste tester like Adin on staff, the last thing they needed was a junkie. Someone like that could do a whole lot of damage. 

Adin looked from Lucas to the tiny potion and back. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to complain one more time before downing the thimble full of fluid. The result was not quite instantaneous, but it was still immediate and intense. 

The noble’s body relaxed immediately, and after wobbling dangerously on the stool he was sitting on, Lucas hopped to his feet and guided the man to the ground, letting him slump down into whatever hole the drugs were digging for him. He wanted to ask him how the trip was, but there was no point. He’d get any relevant details once Adin returned to the real world. 

The results were about what Lucas had expected. “It’s still an incredible high,” the man said, “It just maybe doesn’t have quite the kick that it did last time.”

In time, it was possible he could find a way to extend the high with another ingredient, though he couldn’t imagine the trial and error involved. He knew that if you added monk’s wart to several different healing potion recipes, it made the effect more gradual, like a time release capsule. There was probably something similar he could do to his blue recipe, given enough time. It would be a good compromise; make the high last longer without getting the user too high. 

It wouldn’t happen this time, though. All too soon, the appointed day arrived, and he and Hura’gh set out for their date with destiny just after a quick dinner when the sun was getting low in the sky. 

One of the reasons that Kar’gandin had chosen this place was that it was on the opposite side of the city from the Perin estate, which made it less likely they’d be followed. In reality, that meant that it was an almost hour-long ride just to see the damn place. 

The western crossroads were a lonely place. To the east lay the still visible walls of the city, to the north was the winding channel that led to Lordanin’s rocky harbor, and to the south and west were scattered farms and villages. A few miles further west would take you to the ocean proper, along with the city’s large lighthouse, but those dunes got terribly windy at night, and Lucas had no intention of going there. 

Instead, the two of them waited not far from the cluster of rusting gibbets that hung nearby. There wasn’t much traffic in this area normally, but this close to dark, there was almost none, and as the handful of horses made their way to them, almost every single one stopped to greet Lucas. They didn’t state their affiliations. In most cases, they didn’t even give their names, but then, they didn’t have to. It was evident in the colors and styles of the clothing they wore. 

The Knights of Brass, were certainly the most heavily armed. Officially they were classified as a militia in the city, but in reality they ran a protection racket on the west side. The Red Lantern Gang were the most beautiful, and beneath their cloaks, the ladies that came representing them wore beautiful dresses that even offered a hint of cleavage; that was something familiar to Lucas, but pretty rare in these parts. 

The slants came too, which Lucas had been expecting. He didn’t see himself doing business with the elves. They weren’t known for their deep pockets, and their tattered clothing showed as much. The eight of them waited around for a few minutes while they waited for the last group to show up. Everyone was a little uneasy, and it was clear there was no trust here, but it was equally clear that no one wanted to tangle with a half-orc. 

As the last group arrived, Lucas noted that they had four horses, which seemed to indicate that he’d been double-crossed, but as they got closer he could see that they were actually two separate groups. The first two were scarred, muscular men that obviously belonged to the Butchers that ran the slaughterhouses and the meatpacking district, but the last group was harder to place. 

In fact, Lucas didn’t figure it out before the dark-eyed woman from the Ren Lantern Gang hissed, “Whisperers. What are they doing here?” A murmur of agreement ran through the group. 

“I’m not sure exactly,” Lucas answered honestly, “Since she doesn’t seem to be on my guest list…”

“Nonsense,” the dusky woman said with a Cheshire smile. “You couldn’t expect that we not attend such an interesting gathering. Not when the whole town is abuzz about you, mister blue.”

Lucas cringed at the nickname but said nothing about it. Instead, he pivoted. “I mean, we’re flattered, but you aren’t exactly on the guest list, so…”

“Come now,” the woman said. “We’ve ridden a long way to see you. Surely, your little room at the inn can seat two more.”

“How did you—” Lucas began asking, but before he could finish, she cut him off. 

“After all - if you send us away now, who knows who we might tell?” She said with a glittering smile. It was a threat, but an effective one, reducing his world to two choices, take them with him, or cancel the whole thing. 

Reluctantly, Lucas decided they could come and turned his horse south to the fiddle, waving for everyone to follow him. The road there was rutted but straight, and they arrived not long after full dark, giving Lucas plenty of time to consider how it was that the Whisperers knew where they were going when it hadn’t been part of the message. 

He realized that the most likely answer was that they didn’t, and they’d just been bluffing, but the word on the street about the whisperers was that they were in deep with the mages and worse. They weren’t known for being part of the drug trade, as they typically dealt in the much more profitable markets of secrets and blackmail. All of that made their threats believable enough, and Lucas decided that the best thing to do was let it all play out. 

So they all secured their mounts at the stables, threaded their way through a common room that went quiet the moment so many hooded strangers entered, and then made themselves at home at the private dining room that Kar’gandin had booked for just such an occasion.

Lucas didn’t even try to insist everyone leave their arms aside. He knew there was no point. The Brass Knights might be the only ones to carry their swords on their hips, but he had no doubt that everyone entering the room was armed. 

Once they were seated, drinks were brought in, and the doors were closed and barred from the inside by Hura’gh, Lucas finally addressed the table full of strangers. Some of them looked at him with naked greed and others with annoyance. Only the Whisperers looked at him with amusement. 

Some of the assembled guests insisted on introducing themselves, and some insisted on making sure no names were used, but Lucas didn’t really remember all of those. The only name that really stood out to him was Mistress Artesia Dannica, who headed the Red Lantern Gang delegation, and only then because of how she insisted he call her mistress. 

Lucas of course, politely declined. He wasn’t into that kinky shit. Instead, he kicked off the meeting proper once the chit-chat had died down.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is why we are all here,” Lucas said, uncomfortable with so many eyes upon him as he began to pull out the small vials from his pouch one at a time, setting them in front of them. “I’ve got the blue, and I’m looking for a partner to help me sell it. Every one of you will have the chance to sample the goods and then place a secret bid on the slips of paper I’ll be handing out.”

The vials were tiny things. Their corks took up nearly as much space as the fluid they contained, but that was all someone like Adin needed to forget he existed for a few minutes. He had no doubt that would be equally true for everyone else in this room.

There was a storm of questions after that. Why couldn’t they bit out loud? Why did they have to do this so far from the city? The woman who was here for the Red Lantern gang asked, “Why not just sell to us and skip all of this. No one in this room can match us in either wealth or charm.”

“Listen, I’m not the boss,” Lucas lied. “He says jump, I say how high, and if he says he wants a sealed bid auction for a keg containing seventy doses of high-grade blue, then I ride out to the middle of nowhere to do what he says. Trust me, the boss gets scary when you tell him no. You don’t want to know what happened to the last guy to have my job.”

He looked around the room. Some of them looked like they believed him, but the rest - well, he didn’t really care. He just cared that they’d stopped talking. 

“Alright, boys, bottoms up,” he said as he walked around the room and started handing out bottles and slips of paper.