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Tales of the Slender Fang: Trail Rations

By Psion

All Rights Reserved

The longhaired wolf yawned and gave his bloated belly a loving pat as he woke up the morning after his exploits in Stonebrook and slowly climbed back to his feet. The fat noble that thought he could skip out on paying Slender Fang for his services had almost finished digesting and joining the rest of the lupine rogue's past few victims in his expansive leather-clad hindquarters. Fang smiled coyly as his rubbing hands shifted from his belly to his expanding backside. Yes, Duke Von Kaiser had given Fang quite the pair of Kaiser buns, almost too much so. Fortunately it was a long laborious walk to the sellsword's next destination, the city of Arot. The trek would be good for keeping his girth a manageable size.

Lumbering to the cobblestone road with a slow, leisurely waddle, the leather-clad adventurer ambled along as his boots clicked against the hard stones. Arot was a journey roughly several days long though he might be able to quicken it if he could ride along with a merchant caravan met at one of the hamlets or roadhouses along the way. Fang wasn't entirely sure what he would find there at the end of his journey, Arot was a city devoted to the worship of the goddess of the same name; Arot the goddess of love and beauty in all its forms. Yet despite or perhaps because of its status as the center of the goddess's worship, the city was fairly cosmopolitan. Even if Fang couldn't find any work for someone of his skills there, he could certainly find pleasurable companionship in the goddess's city and after the last few days, a little pleasure wouldn't go amiss.

It had turned to evening as he spotted the small roadside inn off in the distance. Lights flickered out the windows of the weathered stone building as laughter echoed through the heavy wooden door left slightly ajar to capture the cool night breeze as the gray-furred wolf ambled up to the door with a flick of his long black hair. Expansive hips briefly swayed in his black leather pants before he stopped and looked at the relatively narrow doorway then silently cursed the digested duke of Stonebrook residing in his hindquarters. As much as he enjoyed having a large rump, there were certain... spatial requirements that one had to be mindful of when adventuring. Like doorways not built with the girth of an extra generous pair of thunderous thighs in mind.

Turning to his side, he gently pushed the heavy iron-reinforced door inward and squeezed his way inside. No one noticed his arrival at first; he managed to squish his bulbous backside through the stone entryway before one of the barmaids noticed his presence in the dining hall.

"Can I help you... sir?" A voluptuous vixen in a simple white blouse and long brown dress asked as she balanced a wooden tray holding a dozen full tankards of a strong-smelling ale.

Unconcerned as to whether her pause was confusion due to his ambiguous appearance or intimidation due to his expansive girth, the lupine adventurer flashed a smile that was as genuine as it was playful. "Table for one, seating for... two." He asked softly, regarding the barmaid with a teasing lick of his lips.

Seated at a corner table with his fat rump spread between two sturdy oak chairs, the leather-clad traveler sipped from a pewter tankard of ale as he idly watched the rest of the common room. There was a roast slowly spinning on a spit over an open fire in the middle of the room, a porcine bard strummed a lute in one corner, and a pair of raccoons played cards while the rest of the crowd continued on without a care in the world. Leaning back and sinking into his well-cushioned rump, he took another sip of his ale and ordered a large leg of roasted meat. When the same barmaid that seated him brought dinner over, he tipped her with a gold coin and a coy wink before sinking his teeth into the purchased leg roast. Good meat, good ale, and from the looks of things he would have plenty of good company in bed later if he so wished. Life could not be much better....

Life certainly couldn't be too much more difficult for Sir Lardough and Dame Jukatruk at the moment. After a late start thanks to the citywide search for the missing Duke Von Kaiser, the two stout knights of the Golden Chalice didn't get on the road until midday and now they were being accosted by a roving band of goblins, a fairly large roving band of goblins that is. The little green-skinned pests never ceased to be a nuisance; the big-bellied brown fox snarled as a crude goblin short sword banged harmlessly against his chainmail before its owner took Lardough's long sword in the face.

The goblin swarm attempted to surround them, chanting their idiotic songs as they regarded the two overstuffed knights with a hungry glint in their beady little red eyes. Lardough merely smiled and started to lick his lips as the battle began in earnest. Those stupid goblins; a fat predator was a successful one.

Behind him with her prodigious rump squished up against his more modest plump one, Dame Jukatruk smashed goblin bandits with a spiked warhammer and bit down on ones that made the mistake of getting too close to her ravenous maw, greedily chewing and swallowing them. Her stomach had already begun to develop a considerable bulge from a handful of consumed goblins when Lardough finally joined the binging.

"Oh good of you to -URP!- join me." Jukatruk began with a very unladylike belch, the bell-bottomed vixen teased playfully as she rubbed her backside against her cohort's. "I was worried you were still full from the leftovers of last night's banquet."

"My dear Jukatrunk, eating undercooked meat will be the death of us yet." Lardough smiled as he finished gulping down his third goblin.

Ballooning bellies forming a bulging, squirming mass beneath their chain mail tunics, the Chalice knights allowed their appetites to decimate and drive off the goblin warband. Seeing their cohorts gobbled up like meaty, bite-sized treats, the surviving green-skinned pests shrieked and ran back into the underbrush. Lardough briefly toyed with the idea of chasing after them and picking off a few more but the audible groan of his considerable stomach convinced him otherwise. At least it was an otherwise lovely day for a slow walk to the nearest inn on the road to Arot...

Elsewhere, oblivious to his fellow monster-kind being eaten, a green-skinned troll discreetly moved along moss-covered granite walls as the savage monster stalked a lone mouse wizard exploring a large cavern. Dressed in sky blue pants and skirt, the hefty, bottom-heavy mouse held his wand up over his head as the sliver metal cap glowed with a magical white light, occasionally reaching down to pick up a clump of moss or a mushroom, holding the botanical sample to up to his face to better examine it, then slip it into a cloth bag kept in a leather satchel at the mage's abundant hip.

Wylie Toland continued on like this, collecting ingredients for his potions, acting oblivious to the beast creeping along like his saucer-like ears couldn't hear the gentle thud of troll feet padding against rough stone. Stupid troll, the wizard not only knew it was there but knew exactly where it was too. Wiping his free hand against the supple brown leather of his satchel, he turned his attention to his glowing wand and uttered a single word.

"Extinguo." He whispered, casting the spell to extinguish his light and cast the whole cave in pitch darkness. A menacing growl behind him told that the troll had indeed taken the bait.

Rodent ears allowing him to pinpoint the exact location of his attacker, Wylie turned on his heel and silently traced an arcane rune he knew by heart over his throat. The troll roared and used the darkness and its sense of smell to lunge for its prey with a thunderous charge. Wylie merely inhaled and let the spell do the rest...

"Illuminous!" The wizard cried out when it was safe to speak again. As his wand began to glow again and flood the cave in a bluish-white light, the stout mouse mage let out a pronounced belch and smiled as he looked down at his swollen stomach currently riding up his shirt and resting against the floor. Inside of him, the troll struggled and squirmed as it rebelled against its fleshy prison but to no avail. Wylie's smile broadened as he leaned into the bulge immobilizing him to the cavern floor and rubbed his crotch against his blimp-like gray-furred stomach. Patting his stomach with his free hand as he lay atop his bloated midsection like it was his own personal mattress, Toland licked his lips and contemplated whether to sit and savor the sensation of struggling prey or cast his next spell. Sighing, he shook his head and tightened his grip on the still-glowing wand. Where there was one troll, there was at least another and even after the spell his tummy wouldn't didn't have room for another troll or three.

Letting another belch slip past his lips, he tapped his illuminating wand against his swollen belly and uttered another spell. "Compreseon."

Magical energy surged through his body and enchanted his stomach muscles, causing them to tighten and compress his meal into something more manageable. The troll let out a muffled cry as the spell compacted the beast until it was reduced to a dense ball of protein. Wylie smiled and gave the hard lump a slap. Now THAT was a meal, he snickered as he started to waddle out of the cave, bloated belly bouncing happily as the wizard returned to the surface and started to amble towards a small inn off in the distance...

Slender Fang's third course of meat and beer was well underway when he noticed the others arrive. First were a pair of chainmail-clad knights of the Golden Chalice, one brown fox and the other a lovely red furred vixen, both of them squeezing their fat rumps through the doorway and waddling with the heft of someone carrying a belly stuffed to the brim. If the gluttonous rogue were to venture a guess, those were probably the two same adventuring chefs that cooked for Duke Von Kaiser's banquet back in Stonebrook. The bell-bottomed wolf licked his lips reflexively as he recounted the taste of their delicious goblin stew.

Following behind them, traveling alone by the looks of things, was an effeminate mouse wizard that looked... kind of cute all things considered from where the scoundrel sat. Stomach was stuffed with something dense, for not the first time if the short stack mouse's jutting rump was any judge. Shame the wizard's school was much harder to figure out from the frilly outfit he wore. And then there were the two feline peasants that followed in behind the wizard, only noticeable from the crowd of farmhands and traveling peddlers already enjoying the remains of the day by the fact they stopped, purposefully scanned the room with their gaze hovering over each of the adventurers and sellswords in the room, then started to head towards him only to stop and whisper among themselves.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" One whispered to the other, clearly underestimating the strength of Fang's hearing.

"What choice do we have?" The other peasant whispered back reluctantly.

Clearly it was going to be one of THOSE conversations, Fang decided with a slight scowl as he took a sip of ale from his mug while the two finally sat down across the table from him. "Can I help you?" He asked between bites of his second roasted leg as he gave the two farmers interrupting his meal a second look over.

Both of the felines were clearly used to working in the fields but their clothing was better maintained and more vibrantly colored then the average farm serf, suggesting he was talking to the village chieftains or major figures of a small hamlet. They also were clearly relying more on fairy tales and folklore then actual experience when it came to hiring a random adventurer for whatever problem they needed solved. Both of them looked at him and then at each other. The leather-clad wolf rogue merely washed down his mouthful of meat with another swig of ale and sighed. "Alright, what do you need and how much are you willing to pay?" Fang began impatiently. If he wasn't in a crowded common room, he would have been sorely tempted to eat the both of them just for wasting his time.

One of the two village foremen, a calico cat dressed in a green tunic, silently balked at the mention of payment this early in the conversation but his partner, a tabby dressed in a contrasting blue tunic, placed a hand on the other feline's shoulder before turning back to Slender Fang. "We represent the town of Rivergreen, a day's journey down the road to Arot. Are you heading in that direction?"

"I might be." The rogue answered cryptically.

"Could you happen to stop by and speak with us there?" The blue feline replied just as cryptically

"Not without knowing whether or not it's worth my time to stop there. Let me see about getting a room for the night and then we can talk." Fang replied.

Several minutes later, the three of them were in a small room on the second level of the inn. The black-haired scoundrel had his fat rump sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, tilting the mattress to one side as he regarded the two others with an impatient scowl. "So, what is the job?"

"Please, our town has fallen under a dark presence." Blue Tunic began, feebly clasping his hands together as he looked at Fang hopefully.

"Please, spare me the theatrics. Obviously you have a problem that requires a degree of tact or you would have searched an inn closer to Rivergreen. And you would have settled for the wizard or the two knights of the Chalice instead of the smug bastard clad in tight black leathers sitting in the corner." Slender Fang replied with a wry smirk.

Clearly flustered, Blue Tunic did not protest when his green clad cohort took over and told the gluttonous assassin the story of what had happened to their village over the past year. A count with ties to the Arot priesthood commissioned the restoration of a nearby stone watchtower. So far, nothing out of the ordinary to Fang's ear.

When Green Tunic described what the count was doing with the tower, Fang was stared at both of them in disbelief. In addition to the customary tithes, the count issued a decree that every season the village would offer up its "fairest maiden" and lock her away in the tower. Later he would ride up in all his finery and proceed to "rescue" the captive princess from the locked tower, carting her away to his estate in Arot. Of the four the count claimed already, two were last seen in his estate but the other two seemingly vanished without a trace.

"And you have not been able to approach the priestesses of Arot about this?" Fang asked, crooking his head to one side. If the count were connected to the priesthood of the love goddess in some way, they would be quick to put an end to whatever was going on here. Even with as few details as is, the rogue noted one fairly large violation of the goddess's tenets with this whole scheme and the disappearance of two of the maidens suggested a second that was equally as egregious as the first.

Both of the village foremen shook their heads. "The temple of Arot is in the middle of some internal matters that we are not privy to. Our first petition has fallen on deaf ears and we do not dare issue a second less the count get wind of our dissent."

Fang made a note of that comment but declined to pursue it further. "So, if I'm following you thus far, you want the count 'removed' when he is distracted by his fifth maiden." He began, both of his clients nodding briskly before he continued on with his questioning. "Does he travel alone to collect this unorthodox tithe or does he come with an escort? Also, do the two maidens held captive at his manor have any similar traits? For that matter, did the two who vanished have anything in common?"

Both of them gave him a blank stare, causing the rogue to shake his head. "I ask this because while I'm sure you have ONE plan for how you wish for him to be removed, what you ask of me calls for at least three plans in case one fails. If he travels alone then that affords you the chance to ambush him on the road and blame the attack on an opportunistic monster or savage beast. And if he has a preferred type... say a canine folk with black hair and abundantly rounded hips, then you may have already have your maiden in front of you." He explained, his wry smirk broadening into a mischievous grin as he finished elaborating on his line of questioning.

Blue Tunic stared in disbelief. Apparently despite being the more reasonable one, he wasn't particular adventurous in the bedchambers. Green Tunic on the other hand, returned Fang's grin with one of his own as he looked the wolf over, clearly picturing how Slender Fang would look dressed like a storybook princess, before answering.

"I didn't think about it until you mentioned it sir but yes, the count does travel alone when he arrives to kidnap one of our daughters. And it is indeed quite stupid given how there's rumored to be at least one ogre roaming the countryside between our village and Arot. Meaning... he wants to limit the number of people who witness this farce." The feline began, the wheels beginning to turn in his head as he continued on. "Clearly we picked correctly with you. As for his preferred type as you put it... he never gave us any specific instructions other then that the selected maiden was to be fed constantly and do no work for two weeks before she was to be locked in the tower. A few days later, he would arrive and take his plumped prize home with him. If there is a pattern between who stays and who disappears, we have not been able to see it."

Fang nodded in understanding. No preferred type other then that the count liked his maidens with some noble poundage. Well, Kaiser and his bethroed ensured that the wolfish rogue had plenty of that packed into his hindquarters and tucked away under his enchanted corset. "Well then, what do you have to offer in exchange for this service?"

"Please, we're just poor farmers. We cannot afford to pay-" Blue Tunic began only to be interrupted by his peer.

"You can have whatever you can steal from the count once you kill him." Green interjected.

Fang raised an eyebrow at first but ultimately shrugged and nodded in agreement. The matter was settled or at least as settled as it could hope to be. Fang would travel to Rivergreen with the two felines in the morning and together they would finalize a plan to deal with the inconvenient count. With the matter settled, Blue Tunic went down to see about getting a room for the night while Green stopped short of walking out the door and turned back to face the plump wolf.

The feline flashed a wry, knowing smile that Slender returned gamely as he ambled up and waddled over to shut the door. Green Tunic was not going to need a room for the night...

The journey to Rivergreen began in earnest early next morning. His two clients offered to take him with them in their wagon, an offer Fang accepted eagerly. The sturdy wooden vehicle groaned slightly under his weight but otherwise accepted the fatass wolf like he was just another cargo of produce. The lupine rogue kept his expression neutral for most of the journey as azure-clad "Elliot" distracted both of them with idle chatter though Fang occasionally would give the emerald-clad "Duncan" a wry smile when Elliot wasn't looking.

The mountainous forests around Stonebrook and the nondescript inn surrendered to rocky plains and highlands as far as the eye could see as the trio made their way along the cobblestone road to Rivergreen. Soon the grasslands became less rocky before giving way to cultivated fields rich with grains and a dizzying variety of produce. Lettuce, watermelon, and strawberries were just some of the crops he saw on the way into the village. Rivergreen was very green indeed.

Entering the town itself and looking around from his seat at the back of the wagon, Slender Fang made a note of the stonework of the surrounding cottages. Rivergreen was not a particularly large community; the wolf rogue estimated there was barely a hundred souls living here and working the land, but obviously a very prosperous one. Fang never saw a village so small bear the sturdy and exquisite stonework of the rabbit kingdom before, he didn't think their Arcane Masons could afford to travel this far north with Dorf the Mountain King on the warpath again.

The briefest flicker of a scowl began to cross his face as he silently recounted the terror of the Southern Kingdoms before his canine nose picked up the cornucopia of smells wafting from what could only be the bakery. Fresh baked bread, meat and fruit pies, and the occasional cake was heaped high in the store window. The black-haired wolf licked his lips in covetous contemplation before shaking his head. Business first, pleasure later.

Once the trio had dismounted, the wagon safely stowed at the village stable, Slender Fang was whisked away without ceremony before he could attract too many stares from the townsfolk puttering around the local tavern or the neighboring homes for a midday meal. After a short trip down a cobblestone side street off of the main thoroughfare through the town, Fang was lead to a small stone cottage where a wooden sign with a spool of thread and needle was painted on the side; the universal sign of the tailor's trade.

Inside the tailor's shop, in the workspace separated from the entryway by a sturdy oak counter, a resplendent cherry red ballroom gown was set on a dress dummy. Fang was immediately taken aback by how beautiful the gown was.

"So who's the fair maiden that will be wearing this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he saw both his patrons wear the expression of people who just realized they forgot something extremely important. "I take it you haven't picked one yet. How many days do we have until the count arrives?"

"He will be here in three days, like clockwork." Duncan replied glumly. "I cannot believe we forgot this season's maiden." He sighed and looked back at the mercenary rogue hopefully. "Were you just idly boasting back at the inn last night?"

"You made the dress but forgot the plump maiden that is supposed to be inside it? How did you manage to sew the dress without measurements?" Fang asked as he ambled towards the dressing dummy and ran the soft cloth through his fingers.

"Each maiden had similar measurements after their two weeks of gluttony. After awhile they all began to blur together." Duncan replied sadly as he picked up the measuring tape that had been left on the counter. "Don't worry Elliot, I'll take care of things from here." He dismissed his cohort before taking Fang's measurements.

Once they were alone, Duncan's assessment of the assassin's dimensions took a more intimate approach. Feline hands gently caressed the wolf's broad hips and prodded his ample rump as the weathered tape measured out the sellsword's circumference at the hip, belly, shoulders, and ankle. Fang merely smiled and soaked in the attention as the tailor murmured to himself.

"Hmmm, looks like I will be able to make the dress fit with only minor alterations. You're a bit bigger in the arse then the maidens but that can be easily taken care of." Duncan began appraisingly as he caressed the black-haired assassin's round rump lovingly, threading his fingers beneath the soft leather armor and caress the soft gray-furred flab. His hands then started to drift up and under the leather cuirass... and the enchanted corset keeping Slender Fang's considerable paunch magically hidden away. Fang blushed and opened his mouth to protest but the tailor was impressed when he felt the marshmallow ball that was the wolf's concealed belly.

"My my, it's been a long time since I saw anyone with a corset of holding. Hmmm, that fabric... Ezenberg?" The tailor asked, identifying the maker of Fang's enchanted garment.

"Yes... how did you know?" The wolf asked as the feline successfully identified the spell-weaving tailor that made his corset.

"Silk is an unusual material for Ezenberg, difficult to come by in the Southern Kingdoms, so I didn't think he worked with it. But outside of the human kingdoms there is no one else that can weave enchantments into fabric as well as he can. I have yet to see an enchanted garment weaver this talented. Look, there's no bulge but your stomach feels as soft as freshly kneaded dough underneath. How did you come across it?" Duncan asked as he explained his reasoning, his face growing a mischievous grin as he continued. "Any chance you have the matching bottoms? The booty shorts of holding?" His eyes twinkling at the thought of what else Slender Fang may be concealing beneath magical fabrics.

"Sadly no though I must admit I like the idea of getting a matching set. So what you see is what I have." Fang smiled and swayed his hips ever so slightly.

"So how did you come upon such a wonderfully made garment then?" Duncan repeated as he wrote down some notes and started selecting fabric to make the alterations needed for Fang's fitting.

The rogue frowned. "That is... a long story for another time." He answered glumly.

"Ahh, well if what I see is what you have then what you have is most marvelous indeed." The tailor replied and patted the stout sellsword on the rump, changing the subject when he saw it wasn't going anywhere. "I should have this done by tomorrow, in plenty of time for what we need you to do."

Once the business at his shop was done, Duncan showed the rogue where he would be staying for the next few days. After all the pomp and presumptuousness of the count's little fantasy, Slender Fang expected the tower where the maidens were kept locked up to be bigger. Three stories, fairly ordinary cobbled masonry, the tower overlooking the valley Rivergreen sat in hardly looked out of the ordinary.

Inside the tower continued to maintain the appearance of a normal watchtower, the first floor was given over to the guard quarters and the second was storage, only once they got to the third floor, the bedroom, did Slender Fang see anything that resembled a fairytale. The bedroom was a lavishly decorated space befitting a noble's personal quarters. Ornately carved oak furniture, a very wide four-poster bed, all the linens were brightly colored silks, and the cushions were as overstuffed as he was. The wolf was visibly impressed as he turned towards Duncan with a smile. A simple job but one he was going to enjoy immensely....

The dress was finished at midday the following day; Fang had since made himself comfortable in the tower and mentally preparing to play the role of a fair maiden eagerly awaiting "rescue" in the count's little fantasy, preparing minor magical illusions to help sell the bit when the time came. Nothing else to do but eat the meals one of the villagers left for him and make sure he played his part well enough to take care of the arriving noble.

Count Soiree came exactly when Fang's clients said he would arrive, with a surprising amount of audible pomp and circumstance for a lone traveler. Listening by an open window, the disguised wolf heard the count arrive with the blare of a trumpet and a loud proclamation that he had come to "rescue fair maiden from yonder tower." Already dressed in the cherry red gown and daintily fanning himself, the rogue fought to avoid rolling his eyes. In the valley below, Count Soiree round up to the tower entrance and dismounted.

Overtly watching from the tower window above, the bottom-heavy wolf licked his lips behind the silken pink fan. Soiree was a feline noble that was quite clearly shaped by indulgent excesses that Fang could only imagine, the unsuspecting count was a giant ball of pudge with a prominent belly that entered the room a second before the rest of the noble did. Slowly did Fang's prey climb up the stairs, huffing and puffing as he made his way up the final steps to claim his "prize."

The scarlet-clad princess smiled at Soiree, her voluminous hips swaying to and fro as the white-furred maiden ambled over and reached for her savior with her arms outstretch. Smiling back, the count set aside his shining long sword and returned his maiden's embrace. Wandering hands drifted down her side before settling on her expansive bottom as he stared deeply into her eyes. His "princess" giggled, then her smile took on a more sinister air before his world immediately turned black...

"Princess" Slender Fang smiled and belched as he reclined on the soft bed in his "prison" in the tower. The cherry red ballroom gown was drawn tight as the count squirmed and pleaded inside the effeminate wolf's bloated gut. Even with his enchanted corset, the count was so fat that he made a considerable bulge in the rogue's middle. Good thing Duncan knew what he was doing with a thread and needle as Fang liked this dress. The gluttonous sellsword rubbed his silk-clad belly with a gloved hand and suppressed a second belch with a dainty press of his fingers.

His stomach audibly groaned and churned in his hands as the devoured noble continued to make muffled pleas with the disguised assassin. Fang merely smiled and tittered with a practiced falsetto. "Hush now milord, you really were as satisfying as you looked." Fang mocked as he gently removed one of his silken gloves and lazily picked at his teeth as he gave his bulge a slow, loving rub. "Mmmm... so full." The bloated wolf repeated contentedly as he drifted off to sleep to the sound of his groaning stomach.

When Fang would awaken again the following day, the sun had already risen to its midmorning position and his stomach had broken down his latest meal to the point where it was easily concealed beneath his corset. Rising to his feet and letting the red silken dress slippers touch the rough-hewed stone floor, his smile returned as he felt the increased heft of his hips and rump and admired his expanded girth in the full length dressing mirror. The lecherous count admired those qualities the most of all, fitting that the lion's share of him ended up joining the previous petty nobles in Fang's ballooning hindquarters. His bottom had grown into two massive balls of soft fat that jutted roughly seven-handbreadths outward while his thighs had likewise thickened considerably. While before he could squeeze his hips through most doorways without having to turn sideways if he was willing to exert a little extra effort, that was simply no longer an option now with his thunderous legs. Tracing the pattern of a familiar arcane rune over his stomach, he hiccupped up a small ring of gold and sliver keys to the count's estate. Smiling to himself, Fang gathered up his things and waddled down and out of the tower before letting Rivergreen know that the matter was taken care of.

The villages of Rivergreen regarded the well-dressed "noblewoman" with barely a second thought as Fang slowly waddled his way to Elliot and Duncan. The two felines were busy discussing local matters in Duncan's shop as the wolf turned and slowly threaded his voluminous hips into the tailor's workshop and ambling up to the counter. Setting the count's gaudy sword down on the counter, he looked at both males with a knowing smile and a sly wink. The town chieftains smiled back and quickly made the sword disappeared beneath the counter. Neither of them asked how Fang had disposed of the count but neither of them looked like they particularly cared either so long as the deed was done.

Fang's payment was perhaps a bit lighter then he would normally work for but it was paid promptly and without hesitation, plus he did agree to accept a reduced payment in exchange for quietly pocketing the count's keys. A deal was a deal and to their credit Elliot and Duncan were much more honest then the nobles Slender Fang normally dealt with. Now there was just the matter of finding a place to stay until a merchant caravan bound for Arot arrived tomorrow. Yet one look at Duncan told him that would be no problem...