Guildpact (Ravnica Cycle) by Cory Herndon

Author:Cory Herndon [Herndon, Cory]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786957095
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

A successful bartender never forgets a face, a name, or a drink. Know each one of these and you will have their patronage for life.

—“Muck” Mukoz, Founder, Publicans’ Union,

The Care and Feeding of Patrons, Third Edition

2 CIZARM 10012 Z.C.

The ogress—the only way to tell it had been an ogress was her voice, as the bulky prospecting suit she wore erased any traces of gender that her ogre heritage didn’t—placed Pivlic down gently on his feet, and the imp wobbled a bit. Kos calmed the dromad while the ogress signaled her fellow prospectors to stand down. She turned the imp to get a good look at his face through the helmet. The ogre herself wore a much larger helmet, tinted slightly, and she had to squint, but finally she exclaimed, “This is that imp!”

“Yes,” Pivlic said, “Pivlic the imp, owner and proprietor of the Imp Wing Hotel and Bar, member in good standing of the Orzhov Guild and servant of the Karlov family.” The imp made the self-introduction sound like a threat. “And you are…?”

“Pivlic, this is Garulsz,” he said, slipping off the dromad without releasing the reins. “You two probably never met, now that I think about it.”

“The name sounds familiar,” Pivlic admitted, “but no, I can’t place the face. And I never forget a face. Especially not one like that.”

“Garulsz. Used to run the Backwater, back in city,” Garulsz said. “Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Kos, friend of Garulsz. Kos good man, good ’jek. Paid his tab before leaving town.”

“Ah,” Pivlic replied. “The Backwater. I seem to remember we were in a running competition for Kos’s liver. I’m afraid we both lost that one, my ogre friend. He’s switched to the dindin full time.”

“Let’s try to stay focused here, Pivlic,” Kos said gruffly. “Garulsz, we’re looking for a goblin. We’re on a job. We’re not prospecting. Though I do hope you’ve had some luck?” It felt good to say that. On a job. On a case, he’d almost said, but close enough. He’d spent too long at Pivlic’s, breaking up bar fights and getting drunks out the door. He belonged on a job. He half expected his heart to begin racing at the thought, but its beat stayed regular.

That brief fight was the most fun he’d had in years. So he couldn’t handle teardrops, so what? The trick to not using a ’drop was not getting injured. Kos, old man, you’ve been too cautious.

Either that, or the beginnings of kuga infection were making him delusional. Whatever it was, it was exhilarating, and his heart hadn’t acted up once.

“Some luck,” Garulsz said proudly. “Oh, who me kid? You Kos! You see right through Garulsz, you good ’jek! Yes, we doing quite well. You can see big digger, bigger than lot of others? We hit a vein. Some kind of—” Suddenly the ogress looked at Pivlic suspiciously, then back at Kos. “You sure you vouch for imp?”

“Pivlic’s my boss, now, believe it or not,” Kos said. “I wouldn’t work for him if I couldn’t vouch for him.

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