Curiosity Killed the Cat
Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 1:02 pmBut cats have nine lives, and perhaps that is why this orphan chooses to go by that particular name. Bold curiosity has served the urchin well thus far - in just a few short months kitchen work at the tavern provides the skinny child with a place to sleep at night and more than enough food to keep starvation at bay. An ear to the ground, rumors and happenings collected, information that can later be sold for a price has led the waif to amassing a surprising store of coins, a stash which Cat ensures is well hidden. A stash which the too-pretty child is always seeking to add to, which is why the urchin is squatting in an alley, once more holding court amongst a group of much dirtier children (the job at the tavern having the downside of enforced bathing).
"Been too quiet." The blonde waif announced to the small group of minions. "'cept for that monster what got kilt in th' Dagger but that don' count." Largely because too many other people knew about it, and no one would pay for information that lots of people knew. "What's been goin' in town?"
"Summat et th' men what was at th' Teahouse." One child piped up, earning a withering scowl from Cat.
"That's old!" The Cat said disdainfully. "Gotta do better than that!"
Silence for a moment, then another spoke up, one of the few in the group smaller than Cat. "Duffy's gone."
"What kinda gone?"
"Dunno, ain't been 'round for 'most a month. No one seen'm."
"Any blood? Like th' farmer kid what got et by the werewolf?"
This question sets off several minutes of heated argument, the question of just what had eaten the child having never been answered to the satisfaction of the small gang. Each is convinced that they have the right answer, and the question of werewolf vs Baie vs Tailor vs drow has several of the children to blows before Cat settles the matter by throwing rocks indiscriminately. Nursing bruises and bumps, with scowls on faces, the children settle back to listen to their self-appointed leader. But there is no blood to be found in the disappearance of Duffy which, while good for poor Duffy, is rather uninteresting from a monetary perspective. This has Cat in a sour mood until another bit of information is tossed forth.
"Seen th' old guv'nor. Heard from a kid what lives at the farms that he were ridin' t'Darkenhold."
Now this, Cat thought, has potential.
"Been too quiet." The blonde waif announced to the small group of minions. "'cept for that monster what got kilt in th' Dagger but that don' count." Largely because too many other people knew about it, and no one would pay for information that lots of people knew. "What's been goin' in town?"
"Summat et th' men what was at th' Teahouse." One child piped up, earning a withering scowl from Cat.
"That's old!" The Cat said disdainfully. "Gotta do better than that!"
Silence for a moment, then another spoke up, one of the few in the group smaller than Cat. "Duffy's gone."
"What kinda gone?"
"Dunno, ain't been 'round for 'most a month. No one seen'm."
"Any blood? Like th' farmer kid what got et by the werewolf?"
This question sets off several minutes of heated argument, the question of just what had eaten the child having never been answered to the satisfaction of the small gang. Each is convinced that they have the right answer, and the question of werewolf vs Baie vs Tailor vs drow has several of the children to blows before Cat settles the matter by throwing rocks indiscriminately. Nursing bruises and bumps, with scowls on faces, the children settle back to listen to their self-appointed leader. But there is no blood to be found in the disappearance of Duffy which, while good for poor Duffy, is rather uninteresting from a monetary perspective. This has Cat in a sour mood until another bit of information is tossed forth.
"Seen th' old guv'nor. Heard from a kid what lives at the farms that he were ridin' t'Darkenhold."
Now this, Cat thought, has potential.