Zigzag

Again the deal was repeated, with Juulgard and Morta standing quietly in the background, frustrated and angry at their superior. "The Representatives are going to have your head for this, Munzim." Juulgard said. "There's no way they'll agree to this." Red in the face, the dwarf looked like a cherry ready to pop, his arms crossed. This was supposed to be his moment to shine as a diplomat, but again he was cheated out of it by Munzim the Clever. He hated that people referred to the older dwarf as such, when in his eyes the ancient codger was more fool than anything. "Before you interrupt me again." Munzim said, after relaying a clause to the Seers he felt was important, one where if either party breaks their end of the deal, they will pay the other party triple the amount of whatever good they were selling in gold for an entire month, with hostages being given to ensure payment. "You might want to remember who it is that secured your place in the government. Without my recommendation, you'd still be a lowly clerk." Taking the younger dwarfs defeated silence as aknowlesgement, he continued with the seers. "That should be everything. Any questions?" The only person he was really concerned with was Morta. She had obtained her own spot within the ranks of the diplomats without need of his interference, so he didn't have much in terms of leverage. Fortunately it seemed she was just as ignorant as Juulgard was, and so he didn't see the need to try and persuade her to his side. She would likely just move on with her life, intimidated by his aggressive tactics, and maybe become a littlw more reluctant to go out into the field again. That would suit Munzim just fine, the less prying eyes the better.

Coin flip

Up in the air mostly

Munzim thought for a moment, or at least, he looked as though he were thinking about how to structure the deal. "Do you two remember seeing that sapling we passed on our way over?" He asked the other two dwarves. "The one in that clearing?" Juulgard asked. "Yes, I remember it. Puny thing, probably still has a few years before it gets even to a fraction of the size of the others." The eldest dwarf nodded at that. "Good, then that will be our means of measurement." "Measurement?" Morta asked. "Measurement for what?" "For the amount of wood we intend to purchase." Munzim said, looking now to the Rat King. "The tree we speak of is about this high." His hand was just above his head, hardly above four feet and nine inches. "If your people can stack enough lumber to beat both its height and shadow just after high noon, then we will give you in payment one hundred pounds of that bread, meat, cheese, and nuts. This transaction will occur once every week, with my people making certain that the tree is untouched by your people's lumber harvesters. Is that fair to you, Your Highness?" Stunned silence from the dwarves followed, and they felt the color drain out of their faces. How could someone be considered clever if they gave out deals as foolish as that? It would take years, decades maybe, for the tree to grow large enough for the lumber to fit the value of the food they were paying. Truly the Representatives were not going to be happy about this.

Here they were, face to face with the king of these rat people, ready to begin negotiations. "We come from the Republic of Tazarek, a long standing, independent nation that is seeking to stretch outwards and share its culture with others." Morta started, raising her arms outward in an open, friendly gesture towards the king of the Verm. "It is of our belief that we can be of mutual benefit to each other." "You see, Your Highness." Juulgard continued. "We have need of the resources in this area, mainly the lumber your industrious people are harvesting. With it we intend to build some settlements, quite far away from your territory of course. In return, we have been authorized by the Representatives, the council elected to lead our people, to negotiate payment." Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a sack of coins, Morta also removing her own sack of gemstones. "Please accept these as tokens of our willingness to pay you fairly in these proceedings." Both of the diplomats humbly offered their gifts, but Munzim stayed where he was, his cobalt blue eyes boring straight into the intelligent ones of the Verm hierarch. "I will offer you no coin or shiny rock, as it likely has as much value to you as the dirt beneath our feet." Plowing through the surprised beffuddlements of his companions, he reached into his robes and pulled out a larger bag, tossing it to the feet of the holy rat. "Your people can't eat money, but I bet they'll like this." As soon as it hit the ground, the sack unfurled, revealing a strange square bread, with dried pieces of meat, cheese and nuts. "It won't rot for weeks, and will sustain your people for a time more than whatever you could likely squeeze out of this forest. Lots of hungry mouthsyer highness, a problem that can turn catastrophic without some help." The others were stunned, waiting on the response of rat king before speaking, unsure of what was going to happen, but for Munzim, all this was nothing to him, or at least that's what his demeanor gave off. With his hands resting calmly on the handle of his weapon, he waited.

Their journey through the expansive home of the Verm was as interesting as it was unsettling. While ambitious, the architecture was shoddy at best, and offensive at worst. If not for their extensive years of tempering their emotions, they would have likely had disgust on their faces for all to see. "As uhm, exhilarating as that was" Juulgard explained "I think we would prefer to try one of your wagons on our return to the surface." "Reminded me of the old days." Munzim said thoughtfully. "Back when I was a young lad and I was part of an old adventure group." The other two were surprised by such a revealing piece of information. Just the thought of a young and spry Munzim running about with other dwarves was more than a little amusing to the other members of the group. "Let us continue so we may meet your ruler." Juulgard insisted.

It can come up asap if you want. Im hoping that others will join, so I was planning on writing it out sometime in the next few days to give people more time.

There was a knock on the door, and in response, a man got up from his latest binge of drinking. "Come in." He said with a groan, rubbing his head. "You better be decent in there, Jacobson." Said the voice from behind the frosted windowed door, the words ZACHARY JACOBSON, P. I. While getting up on shaky legs, the hungover detective made note of his current attire. A white tank top with droplets of brown booze stains all over it, with dark blue dress pants that had a rip at the base of the right leg. "Decent enough." He croaked. Two burly men in pin stripe grey suits entered, both wrinkling their noses at the smell of old booze. "Looks like you've already heard." "About what?" Zach said, sitting down at his desk as he searched for a bottle that still had some liquor in it. Both of the pin striped men looked at each other before one of them spoke. "Jay's dead, Zach. He was found in his apartment and uh..." He was finding it difficult to find the words. "Wait wait, what are you talking about, dead? In his apartment? That's impossible, he...he was always so damn paranoid about people tailing him." The pounding in his head wasn't mixing well with the news he was trying to process. "How did he go?" "That's why we're here, Zach." One of them said. "You specialize in the weird and well, this is about as weird as it gets." "Fine then." He said, stumbling a bit before opening the door to the closet that had his good suit in it. "Whatever happened, I'll get to the bottom of this, and I'm gonna make sure that whoever did this is in the ground with a few bits of lead in its chest."

With a little help, the dignitaries exited their carriage. Dressed in true finery, the dwarves bowed graciously to their hosts. The lone female of the group, Morta Ironbreath, spoke first, the blue glass beads threaded through her blonde beard shook softly. "We of the Republic of Tazarek thank you for your hospitality." "Hopefully we can prove ourselves as worthy partners towards your success." The other, a male known as Juulgard Mountainheart. Silence came from the third, a male dwarf older than the both of them, known as Munzim the Clever. Instead he nodded, his calloused hands clutching the warhammer he used as a walking stick. Nobody but the guard captian were aware that even in his advanced age, Munzim could still kill a man with one swing of that old weapon.

In case anyone wants an idea of what they're up against, here's a post of one of his kills

I have a serial killer that is hunting over in Nu Sicily, so its a real mobster type of deal. If anyone wants anymore info just lemme know, schedules a bit rough.

There are times in a man's life, when you have to admit something. It's never a pretty thing, a man gets to know it intimately when he makes it a habit of dealing with death. For Jay, he made this admission on a rainy day in Nu Sicily, when a letter with no post mark arrived at his home. Rejoice! You've been chosen for a unique opportunity! From now on, your whole world is going to be full of color. I hope you're as excited as I am about it. Crude drawings of stick figures and haphazard blending of bright colors gave it the appearance of a child's construction, but the words were too well put together for that. Jay knew in the back of his mind this had to be the work of an adult, especially given that he made it a policy of his to insure other people were ignorant of his whereabouts. That could only mean someone followed him back to his cramped little apartment wedged between two larger ones, like a mouse hiding between giants. Not only had they done this, but also had figured out which room was his, even though he rented three other rooms under different names, they somehow sussed out which one he truly resided in. All this, and he wasn't even aware they had done it. That's when he made the admission to himself in that hallway. "I'm gonna die..." One week later... Three men burst through the door of the apartment building, cursing and nearly wretching at the smell. Death and candy were heavy in the air, the sound of carnival music hanging in the air lazily, devoid of meaning in such a place so mundane. All three of the men were under the employ of the landlord, who had received multiple complaints about foul smells and loud noises, so he sent in his men to forcibly evict the tenant. Everything about the apartment appeared normal. The same dull grays or browns that were commonplace in low income tenement buildings, with matching drab furniture to boot. One thing that seemed strange though, was the door to the bedroom. It was closed, but unlocked, almost as if inviting you to come and take a look. Around the edges looked to be paint of some kind, bright pastels that gave the impression of some kind of bomb going off on the other side, some kind of explosion of color that tugged at the lowly thugs curiosity. Carefully they opened the door, that damned music driving them to a near state of panic. Finally the gap was large enough for them to see, and they were made witness to something that haunted their visions at night. A swirling rainbow of color was the god of this room, splashing bright yellows, greens, reds, blues, oranges and purples everywhere. Colorful footstools and all manner of trappings were strewn about, as if this one room in the entire apartment were chosen to become a circus, all of which pointed to that which used to be the dead mobster. The corpse of Jay Marburg stood straight, dressed in the gaudy fashions of red clown. What skin could be seen was painted in all manner of strange, swirling designs, a mix of colors as bright as a noonday sun, his mouth a wide, impossibly large grin, painted a cheerful sunny yellow. Eyes, which had once been rusty gray, were now bright blue marbles that shined in the light of the naked lightbulb. Jay, or at least what used to be Jay, had his hands outstretched, elbows bent, and palms upward, with two bright green balls in his right hand, and one in the left. "What in the hell happened here?" The largest and most shaken of the trio asked. "Maybe he's got a wallet on him." Said the other, who shoved his comrade forward. "Go check." "Screw you!" He gulped, but knew he didn't have much of a say in the matter. With a trembling hand he reached for what surely must be a pocket, but something happened when his hand touched the fabric. Zzzzzziiiiip! To their horror, the skin fell away on two sides, unleashing an avalanche of paper confetti, toys, candy, and glass beads fell upon the now screaming man, the other two running as fast as they could. Word would spread of that moment, of how a capo of the Salvatore family died in such a strange, and terrifying manner.

"Yes! We wish to speak with the bloody Rat King, what other kings are around here?!" The dwarf shakes his head. "Ya'd think these people wouldda figured out some kinda system for this." His fellow dwarves shrugged their shoulders. When they were allowed into the city proper, the wagon made its way on the dirt road. Inside the wagon, the diplomats were feeling a little nervous. "I heard these Verm will eat anything, even dwarves." Said one of the diplomats. "Calm down." Another said. "As long as we keep our heads, everything will be fine." "As long as we don't have to be out in that mud. It's absolutely filthy out there. Do they have absolutely no decency?" Grumbled the last.

Dear Esteemed Collegues If my previous message has found you well, then I trust you have read the copy of the book I found during my studies in Imradel. More than likely you read the same passage I have, and now experience the same troubling dreams that I do every night since learning of the Basilisk. Please make haste here in Imradel, at the Lancellar Academy within the city so that we can discuss the best course of action with this new dilemma on our hands. You will likely have many questions, and justifiable anger towards me over the purposeful infliction of this malady, but I knew you needed to experience this firsthand in order to truly understand the gravity of what we are facing. However you decide to travel, be as quick as you can, lest we be further troubled by these disturbing images. Sincerely Sentheril Goldburn The letters were sent and the elf gave a heavy sigh. From this point on, it was all going to be a difficult journey to the end of this road. Through it all, they were going to save this world. @Rin @L E V I A T H A N @Die Shize

I wanted to do the montage joke from South Park, but I couldn't find one in the gif menu that had subtitles.