“Alright mutt, want to take your place on the stage? Or do we need to drag you up here?”

Dantes smirked. “Don’t worry, I was made for the stage.” He began walking forward, his escort dispersing now that it seemed like the elves were going to honor their part of the bargain. He saw Tel grinding his teeth as he walked toward it, and saw Pinion wearing an impish grin. Maybe if he was lucky he’d be able to kill him too.

Dantes climbed up, and Reivare leapt up on to it with grace, seemingly just so that he could look down on Dantes as he crawled up. Reivare was nearly a foot taller than him, and his wiry lean muscle and tattoos showed in sharp contrast to Dantes’ slightly below average height, practical many pocketed jacket, and underweight frame.

Dantes looked out into the crowd. He made eye contact with the Clan Stonedust leader, Iron in the Mine, who lifted a drink toward him with a cruel smile. He saw a half dozen people exchanging goods with a gnome running a gambling stand for the consortium. He guessed that odds were high on him dying after no less than four racial slurs and stereotypes were shouted at him by the elves. He caught sight of Syn toward the back, wearing the face of an orcish onlooker. He was surprised to see that she wasn’t working, but noticed the brief wink she gave him. He wondered if she knew exactly what he was planning, or just knew him well enough to guess that he was planning something. The rest of the crowd was mostly unknown to him aside from the occasional gambler he’d rolled dice with, or merchant he’d traded with. They were here for entertainment more than anything. He couldn’t blame them, It could be hard to break up the doldrum of the Pit.

“So, dog, do you want to lay down while I drive,” Reivare pulled the rapier smoothly from its place embedded in the stage, “This into your heart, or do you want to stand and take the chance that you may flinch and I’ll need to stab you more than once?”

“I’ll stand.”

Reivare smirked, and flourished the blade above the crowd. “The Mutt thinks he’s brave. We’ll see if that’s the case when I move to run him through.”

His toadies chuckled at his joke.

Dantes kept making minute adjustments to where the rats were, looking through Jacopo’s eyes where he was crouched on a nearby roof to keep track of where everyone was standing.

Dantes moved to stand at the opposite end of the stage and gave a wide smile spreading out his arms. “I’m going to give you one last chance.” He said, his voice carrying over the crowd and drawing everyone’s full attention.

Reivare lifted his rapier and steadied his hand perfectly in line with where Dantes’ heart was. “Lost your mind with fear, eh? One last chance for what?”
“To surrender.”

He laughed. “Here I thought you might have half a brain. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, mutt.”

Dantes smiled and sent out an order.

Bleed

The rats beneath the stage, and the ones winding their way through the elves in the crowd all nicked themselves, and spread their blood across the mirror shards before quickly scurrying away, causing a few members of the crowd to jump and curse.

“Well, let no one say I didn’t give you a chance.”

“Grey skinned fool,” said Reivare, lunging for Dantes, the point of his blade staying perfectly straight until it, very suddenly, was not.

The stage exploded, engulfing Reivare’s legs and sending him flying into the air. At the same time, eight other explosions went off in the center of the Elven King’s ranks. The limbs and viscera of those nearest to the blasts went flying all across those who had been assembled there. Those not killed immediately were thrown backwards and sliced by the shrapnel of their dead companions' bones.

The Undermarket was immediately thrown into chaos as everyone scattered and ran for their lives. A few people simply stood stock still, in shock as to what happened. Others immediately saw opportunity and began robbing the stores whose owners had fled, or looting the freshly dead without a second thought.

Dantes had been launched off the stage, but since he’d been prepared for it he’d managed a soft landing in a booth selling sharpened rocks. He drew himself to his feet and took stock of the situation. He was down to half a fang of favor, which meant that his order to bleed had extended to those rats he’d had infiltrate Elfland King territory as well. He’d sent them there to find the other magic mirrors and bleed on them. Hopefully those additional explosions finished off even more of their leadership, on top of the added benefit of removing their connection to the outside world.

A silver flash launched itself toward Dantes and he threw himself to the side at the last moment, rolling away as a rapier pierced the air where he’d been a moment before.

Holding the slip of silver was Reivare. Both of his legs were a charred mess, and he had a piece of the stage protruding from his side, but he was still alive, and his eyes were burning with hatred as he looked at Dantes.

“You degenerate mixed piece of shit.” He lunged again, and Dantes barely managed to avoid a flurry of stabs in his direction. “I don’t know how you did this,” he narrowly missed a few more times, his injuries slowing him down considerably otherwise Dantes would’ve been killed by the first blow, “but you’re going to die for it.”

Dantes called upon the favor of the rats again, maneuvering toward a nearby alley. “You don’t know how I did this huh? Too stupid to figure it out?” He lifted a thick chunk of wood from the stage to block the rapier’s point just before it reached him. “What? No comments about how my skull shape would make me fooling you impossible?” He dove down into the alley, and drew his shiv from his boot.

“Even a rat can possess a low cunning.” replied Reivare as he flicked the wood off the edge of his rapier. “That doesn’t make it greater than the cat that hunts it.”

“Attack!” said Dantes, and the rats he’d called answered in kind, three dozen of them swarming up Reivare’s legs, biting and clawing at him.

He screamed, clawing wildly at himself, and flinging his already wounded form against a nearby wall in an attempt to remove the rats that were swarming across him and tearing into his flesh. Several died as he tried to fight free of them, and Dantes could feel the last bits of favor he had rapidly fading with each rat’s death.

Reivare was flailing wildly with his rapier, but Dantes risked lunging for him anyway, not wanting to attempt the attack after the favor ran out and the rats stopped serving as a distraction. He drove his shiv into Reivare’s chest, pushing it into him with all of his strength.

Reivare managed to give Dantes one more hate filled look before he collapsed, all light leaving his eyes.

Dantes fell backwards, panting heavily, the sounds of chaos still carrying across the undermarket. Even half exploded with rats all over him, Reivare had still nearly killed him. Had it been a straight fight, he never would’ve had a chance. Still, it wasn’t as if straight fights were ever his forte to begin with. He looked down at the rats, still tearing at the corpse.

“You guys can leave if you want, or eat for a minute or so while I catch my breath. Thanks for all your help.”

One of the rats, a mottled gray one with fangs sharp as daggers peered up at him, blood dripping from his fangs. “The eyeballs are the best part.”

Dantes nodded. “Uh-huh… thanks for sharing.”

…

Once he’d caught his breath, Dantes went over to the body, gently brushing the rats away while he searched it. He took the sheath and belt from it, and found that they shared a similar boot size so replaced his own with Reivare’s pair, which must've been far nicer considering they were in miraculously good shape in spite of the explosion that had otherwise shredded his lower half. He found a small glass vial filled with dust that he pocketed as well as a handful of gold coins. Once he was done looting the body, he grabbed the corpse by the long gold strands of hair and picked up the rapier. He dragged him through to the center of the Undermarket, sure to let everyone see what he was doing.

Those who were looting, or fighting all stopped to look at him, and the chaos around him quieted enough that more and more people took notice of him. He didn’t see a single living full blooded elf, which meant either they’d all died, or more likely, they’d ran for it when they started exploding.

When he was certain that he had an audience he lifted the body and head up by the hair so no one could deny who it was. He raised the rapier, and swept it in a slow circle all around himself, aiming the point at everyone that surrounded him.

“Let this be a lesson to everyone. Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.” With that, he dropped the corpse and walked out of the Undermarket. The path clearing for him silently as he did so.