Book 3 Chapter 36: I'm Just the Muscle
Dantes walked through the dark corridors of the Pit as he moved toward his blood tree. Moving in the Pit still came very naturally to him, though now he could do it with his eyes closed, and frequently did while he monitored things both above and below him. He’d been sparing in the feeding of his blood tree, giving it only drops when he fed it and doing his best to nourish it in other ways. He understood the risk and reward provided by blood ritual now far better than he had before, and he didn’t intend to waste such a valuable tool.
He was being followed. Had been for quite some time. It was four men with various levels of orcish blood. They wielded crude clubs and dull daggers as they moved quickly through the tunnels to reach him.
Dantes stretched his neck and arms a bit before shifting into a rat and moving into a darkened corner of the tunnel he was in. He waited patiently until the orcs entered the hall, each of them looking around it warily with their weapons raised.
“I swear I can still smell him here.”
“Yeah, I thought I heard him in this direction, then it stopped outta nowhere.”
“Could he have heard us?”
“Nah, he’s got some elvish in him, but we were too far back in the tunnels.”
One of them shook his head. “We should just turn back and wait for him to head back toward the Undermarket to grab him.”
“Fuck that, he killed my brother. I want him dead.”