Merek's Rattails

''The air smelled foul the night that sorry lot of unlucky young voyagers came to the inn of the Leaky Lime. The air always smells foul in Skullmarsh, one might say; but tonight, the reek of bad omens was heavy on that stagnant lake.''

With boots full of water and the stench of the undead upon them, six disgruntled young men heaved themselves up the creaking rope ladder, and entered the common room one by one, smirking at the bugbears that leaned against the walls.

''The thing, for it was no use to call him a man, sat at a small table between two hulking bugbear bodyguards, smoking a pipe of witchweed. The single lantern dangling above the table did nothing to reveal the creature's face, but his long pointed ears, pierced with rings, gave him an eerie silhouette as he leaned against the back of his chair.''

''"'Er he is, boys," the leader of the voyagers said. "Captain Merek, the rotten scourge of Skullmarsh. You're shorter than I expected."''

''In the shadows, the lanky creature grinned, exposing to the light a set of cruel, needle-like fangs. "Sorry to disappoint."''

''The captain chuckled and snapped his fingers at one of his crew. "Get me a drink." Sitting down, he leaned in close, smiling and trying to get a better look at the creature before him. "You promised me and my boys some valuable information."''

A puff of witchweed, and the slimy grin widened.

''Hesitating, the voyager tossed a bag of coin onto the makeshift table. "I got what you asked for. And a little extra." he said, impatiently. "Now tell me what I came to hear, Rattail. Where's Redfield and the Dogs?"''

''A moments pause. The inn was silent, until with a creak, Merek leaned forward and inspected the gold coins. A bony claw of jagged yellow nails wrapped themselves around the bag and dragged it into the shadows that the lantern above seemed loathe to touch. The glint of gold on the goblin's left eye was all that the young captain could see from his place in the light, as Merek slowly stuffed the pouch away.''

"There's just one problem," the goblin remarked, leaning back into the shadows.

''"Aw yeah?" the captain shot back hotly. "And what's that?"''

''Another puff of witchweed. Across the room, the bartender gulped and watched the scene with wide eyes, as the same sinister toothy smile crept back over Merek's face. "The Dogs pay better."''

''A gunshot rang out. The young man jumped, his expression filled with disbelief and agony, as he clutched a black and festering wound that burned into his abdomen. The voyager opened his mouth to speak, but all that left his lips was a dripping of black ichor, before the floor beneath him swung open, and the captain dropped with hardly a scream into the marsh below. Without hesitation, the betrayed crew drew their weapons and dove at the sniveling creature behind the table.''

They never got close.

''The trapdoor closed, and all went quiet again as Merek's bugbear bodyguards dusted themselves off and returned to their positions. Below the Leaky Lime, those poor souls were even now suffering a fate worse than the Finger of Death.''

''Merek pocketed the fun, and smiled again. "Cancel that drink, bartender."''