"Supplier. Name. Place."<br/>"What?"<br/>The man squinted through one eye, the other squeezed shut against the blood dripping into it.<br/>Worthy glanced at the third man, who was still curled up and making bubbling noises.<br/>"Supplier. Name. Place."<br/>A scarred knuckle slammed into the thug, and he doubled up before the alchemist roughly slammed him against the alley wall.<br/>"Supplier. Name. Pla-"<br/>"uur ai!"<br/>The man spluttered. "All right! Inktongue! Knotwork Alley!"<br/>Worthy grinned. It was not one of the prettiest sights in the world, to say the least.<br/>"Wonderful. Thank you for your cooperation!"<br/>The alchemist began to turn away, but then spun around once more.<br/>"Oh, one more question."<br/>The thug cringed.<br/>"Where's Knotwork Alley?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Worthy frowned. Though, to be fair, it wasn't easy to tell on his pitted, eyebrow-less face.<br/>The man in front of him was also frowning, though it was far more noticeable on the younger fellow.<br/>"I don't know you." He said, finally. It was the opening line of the conversation.<br/>"Are you sure? I'm easy to mistake." The alchemist replied drily.<br/>Clearly, the young man had a very poor sense of humour. His frown deepened.<br/>"Look, you don't want trouble. Now turn around and don't come back again, you hear?"<br/>Not-so subtle movements moved the hilt of a knife into a prominent position.<br/>Worthy, for his part, had to restrain himself. From laughing. This lad (despite his pretence that he was a rock-hard bruiser) clearly had no idea how to stand guard for a literal den of thieves. Amateurs.<br/>The alchemist reinforced his frown.<br/>"Listen, kid. I have large quantities of coinage to spend on things that I don't want to go an shake down apothecaries for. I'm also a real determined customer."<br/>This was sort of true. It had taken him some considerable time and knucklework to find out where he might find someone that would supply him with the goods he needed. And, specifically, someone that would not ask for some kind of proof of membership to that heap of fools that called themselves the Alchemist Guild. Worthy spat on their name, and it made a decent punctuation to his vague threat.<br/>The boy (who was named Roy, not that anyone ever asked) swallowed. There was something about those eyes peering out of that mangled wasteland of a face that was getting to him. He wasn't a big tough guy like the others. This was Roy's first real task, and he didn't want to fuck up in front of everyone.<br/>"Look. I'll go ask. But you stay here, or you're going to be in all kinds of shit."<br/>"Don't min me. I'll be staring at this delightful brickwork over here."<br/>The boy gave him a puzzled look before edging to the back of the alley.<br/>"Don't forget to tell them I have lots of money!" Called Worthy after him.<br/>He watched as the boy knocked on the single, wooden door at the far end of the alley. A lit opened up, and words were exchanged. The slit shut again. Roy waited, glancing worriedly at Worthy, who grinned reassuringly back. His grin had not gotten more pleasant. The slit opened up yet again. The boy nodded and walked back to the alchemist.<br/>"Right. Go on ahead. But if you cause any trouble, you're dead meat."<br/>"Lovely. Good day to you."<br/>And Worthy plodded on to the door and gave it a good knock. The slit opened, eyes peered out. Then the eyes peered down, to where Worthy was grinning. The slit slammed shut. The door opened. And one of the largest men Worthy had ever seen loomed out of the gloom.<br/>"Hello. I want to buy illegal shit."<br/>The man said nothing, apparently wondering whether he was being mocked. After a while, though, he moved aside. The alchemist stepped into a short corridor and waddled over to the one door that was open. It was a small room, containing a small wooden chair facing a large desk. At the desk, sat upon a far superior chair, was a tall, well-dressed ( at least considering that he was in a literal den of thieves) man clutching a large jug of wine in one hand and a dirty piece of paper in the other.<br/>He squinted down at Worthy with the expression of disgust he'd already been wearing.<br/>"What?"<br/>The alchemist went and climbed onto the chair.<br/>"I'd like to buy some highly illegal stuff. And I was told that Inktongue would be able to help me out."<br/>"Who told you?"<br/>He shrugged. "I didn't ask."<br/>"So what do you want?"<br/>Worthy produced a small piece of far cleaner paper, and handed it over. The man who was probably Inktongue spent some time studying it.<br/>"This is... a strange order. Not the kind of stuff that we usually handle."<br/>"But you can handle it, yes?"<br/>"We might."<br/>"Let me put my cards on the table. I have at my disposal a large sum of silver, and perhaps, gold. I intent to use it to acquire, one way or another, the materials on that list. So if you don't help me, I'll find someone that will."<br/>"And what are you going to be doing with these... articles?"<br/>"I'm going to blow shit up, clearly. But my goals are not, ultimately, in contrast with yours." Worthy paused. "In fact, I think they might help you get along with your... business. And what group do you belong to, exactly?"<br/>"The Tubby Trolls."<br/>Worthy was silent for a moment.<br/>"Are you fucking with me?"<br/>Inktongue sighed and took a swig of wine.<br/>"Sadly, no."<br/>"My condolences. Sounds like a shitty name to have."<br/>"You're telling me. Now, back to business. Silver."<br/>"Of course."<br/>He produced a small bag that chinked heavily when he lobbed it onto the desk.<br/>"Consider it a down-payment. I'll bring more when I come for the goods. Which would be when?"<br/>"Hmm." Inktongue looked at the paper again, and had another swig of wine. "Three days. Now fuck off. I got work to do."<br/>"Toodle pip!"<br/>Worthy bounced off the chair and waddled back to the door, where the giant opened the door with a scowl. He continued past Roy and into the city, dispensing a wide grin at the former. With any luck, he had time to acquire the other, more easily acquirable materials from a less shady establishment.<br/><br/>And half an hour later, Worthy was plodding happily along, secure in the knowledge that with what he had and what was hopefully about to acquire, he could destroy a small town.<br/>He began to practice whistling, and cheerfully stomped his way to the tavern.<br/>With the real business done, time to meet the crew.