Alvyn's Story

A Story for Alvyn

"Psssst, ankle-biter," comes a voice from near your feet. You look down. It's a rat?

Alvyn squats down next to the rat. He rummages around in his pocket for some morsel of food. Eventually he comes up with some cheese, which he puts down in front of him. "Ankle-Shanker is what people call me. Biting is unsanitary, especially ankles. People step in some nasty shit in this city. Literally."

"But enough about me, who are you?"

"Rico," the rat says, mouth stuffed full. "You're an adventurer or somethin', right? That means you help people?"

Alvyn chuckles. "Nice to meet you Rico. I am not an adventurer. My friends and I are...contractors. We do jobs for pay. So lets cut to the chase. What do you want done, and how are you going to pay?"

"Contractors, yeah, yeah, right," Rico says, nodding quickly. "I getchya. I don't got any money, right, cause I'm a rat, but I get around, right? Sewers and such? I know a place, lots of shiny stuff in it, if you get my drift. I bet no one would even notice a little going missing, here and there. Me and some buddies, we could grab you something. We've all got stakes in this, right?

"See, there's this ratcatcher. He goes up and down our street, up and down, leaving rat poison. Only lately not so much. He's missed his route twice now. Bad timing, right, bad timing. You gotta bring him back for me."

"Well, I've already got a sewer guy, so whatever "shiny" you find had better be good...wait, what? You want him back? Am I misunderstanding the relationship between rats, rat catchers, and rat poison?"

"They got a lotta guys guarding the door, so must be good, right? Rats don't need doors, hehe," Rico chuckles to himself. "They never look down, do they," he adds, in a conspiratorial tone. "Oh right, but you wanna know about the rat poison. Well it's like this. You eat rat poison, you die. Simple, right? Wrong! A lotta rat poison will kill you, but a little..." Can rats smirk? You're not sure, but you see Rico's whiskers twitch in pleasure. "A little sniff here, a little sniff there, and it makes life worth living again, right? A lotta rats feel that way. Not me so much, since I found my gal, but therein lies the rub, see. If I'm gonna have to support kids, I need to make a living somehow, am I right? And if the rat poison dries up, I'm gonna have a lotta problems tryina set up a nice nest for the pups."

"Ok, lets set aside how you can steal valuable guarded objects but not rat poison. What else do you know about the rat catcher?"

"Well, there's the rub, right? I dunno anything about 'im. All the rat poison'll be locked up tight in the guild." Rico gives a small shudder. "That's no place for a rat. The guild's gotta know where he is, right?" You assume he's talking about the Guild of Ratcatchers.

"I could probably poke around a bit for ya. What's your street? And to be clear, you don't care if that particular rat catcher comes back do you? You just want someone putting down poison?"

Rico shrugs his tiny shoulders. "I guess. Seemed like a nice guy though. Anyway, I dunno what street we're on. Can't read, right?"

You look around for a street sign: Sulmor Street. This road crosses the High Road, and runs parallel to Trollskull Alley but a few blocks south.

"Ok Rico, I'll look into this for you. I'll come by here again in a day or two and let you know what I've found out."

Rico nods happily. "Hey, thanks pal," he says, and darts away.