Before writing the letter for Kruger...Stood in the Guard House, not for the first time, Titus handed over the satchel of tobacco. It sure was a fortunate coincidence to find
Solanaceae moss growing in abundance around all over the grounds. Solanaceae moss AKA 'Nightshade moss;' a perfect subsitute for tobacco if one could extract and seperate the poison from the pulp and then make it smokable. Not an easy task, but such a problem-solving exercise was a nice way to stave off the boredom and monotony of prison life. Making tobacco-substitute would most certainly have made him a rich and influential man in the prison... that is, if the so-called Redemption District was as advertised. In reality, the place was nothing more than a slave camp. The prisoners had not enough things of value to make a tobacco trade worthwhile. And so he found himself simply handing the fruits of his labour over to the guards for a few minor comforts and favours. It was the best he could do, for now.
"There's a lot more there this time," Vito noted.
"I had the materials, tools and the space required to prepare more, this time around," was the explanation from Titus. In truth, he'd never wanted to make so much for Vito. He'd purposefully been making smaller batches to keep himself needed - keep his value high. But this time around, he had the materials and tools to make
something else too - Something that required a large quantity of the poison he'd been seperating out of the Nightshade moss. "As for information: On the fourth sub-level, in the south-western corner of the mine, there's a hideaway where some of the miners are taking extra breaks."
"Is that so?" Vito put the satchel aside and was sufficently distracted by the snitching. Good.
"If you don't mind, wait a few days before you bust them. I'd rather not be, in any way, linked to it."
"You giving me orders, you little shit?" Vito leaned in toward Titus threateningly. Titus didn't even blink. For some reason, fear or doubt rarely showed on his face. The young man was seemingly unshakable, with a piercing glassy gaze to boot. It was one of the reasons his old gang called him 'The Snake.' That and the poison antics. If they'd seen him now, casually snitching on others, this would be yet another reason for his nickname. "I could make your life a living hell. Know your place."
"Of course," Titus agreed. "I only wish to be valuable, so that our current relationship might continue."
"Anything else?" Titus shook his head. "What about other prisoners? Like that Mortika woman. She seems up to no good."
"She's fine," Titus said quickly. Mort was one of the few people Titus actually enjoyed talking to, in this shit hole. He'd do his best to protect her at any cost. "I've..." he searched for the right words. "...seen her around. She causes no trouble. Gets on with her work. You won't find anything untoward with her."
"You seem certain of that," Vito said, a suspicious look on his face. These fucking guards and their first instinct to be suspicious. It was correct. But annoying as hell.
"She
is strange," Titus relented. "A cult leader, so I hear." Vito nodded in agreement. "I'll keep a closer eye on her, and quickly report anything worthy of note. Such a savage must be hiding something."
Misdirection complete. It was not out of pure altruism that Titus felt loyalty to her. It was not just that he respected and even admired her as an intellect and conversationalist. Mortika d'Arce had a unique set of skills and knowledge that made her a crucial piece in a potential prison break. She had to be protected. For the good of the small group of allies that were forming - allies who might seriously consider an escape attempt. Allies who might just be able to execute one too.
And speaking of prison breaks; did the guards in the Guard House just let slip the mother of all intel...!
After writing the letter for Kruger..."They all... party?"
Titus looked in the eyes of the tiny goblin girl and gave her a couple of very purposeful nods. This one would also be as crucial a cog as Mort. She was small and she was a little thief, with goblin instincts. Heist gangs would call her a 'grease guy.' She could fit through small gaps, climb and scramble, with finesse in her hands too. Her type of team player was often someone sent into a building to unlock it from the inside. Coaxing her to talk was not easy, she was distrustful and bullied in a similar way that Titus had been when he first arrived, but finally she had spoken to their group. Good.
"Yes," he said to her, then echoed her words. "All party."
-You know…- Titus' attention was drawn to another who was hard to coax, but for completely different reasons.
Nobody bullied Mhin. The elvish-looking woman was a certified badass.
-a smaller group might be…wiser than a larger one-"True enough," was the alchemist's response. "But we need the right combination of skills too. Nobody here is dead weight. We are all going to be needed if this is going to work.
Mhin was like the big guy, Maxim: Two people who did not need magic to be extremely effective at incapacitating any potential obstacles. Titus also found the play on words of 'Min and Max' to be amusing, although he'd never dare mention that for fear of offending them (particularly Mhin. Maxim had a decent sense of humour.)
"
I appreciate your enthusiasm, Titus, but..." Kristo began to trail off. "
The only plan I am hearing is retrieving the key, unlocking ourselves, and abra kadabra ~" Kristo got really quiet but really enthusiastic about this last part, "
We are free!" He whispered but raised his voice at the same time while dancing hands.
"I understand your concerns, Kristo." Titus wished the fool would sit down and be normal. "Unfortunately, without the map, we have limited intel to work with. And once we have the map, we have to move quickly before it's absence is noted. This means, we have a small window in which we can put a plan together and execute. Unortunate, I know. But there's no other way. All we can do is be as prepared as possible, with the right collection of skills to problem-solve in real time."
Speaking of dead weight - someone who didn't know any better might think that Kristo was such. The man had no obvious talents other than having the gift of the gab. But, after arriving in the big city as a teenager, Titus had quickly managed to learn the lesson:
It's who you know, not what you know. An old adage that rang truer than most would like to think. Nepotism ran in all circles, and a good friend in the right place could take you where talent alone couldn't. The more Kristo told stories about his former life (never to Titus, but Titus was always listening) the more Titus realised that this man seemed to 'know a guy' in just about every city on the fucking continent. Where hadn't Kristo 'Silver Tongue' Vosu been? Once the team had broke free of the prison, they would become fugitives, and help would be hard to come by. That's when, hopefully, Kristo's knowledge and connections would shine.
"
I suppose I am in,"
Titus suppressed his urge to let out a breath of relief, and simply nodded.