Borgios slipped back down the alley. It was nearly dawn, and the sounds of a woman's voice were clearly audible:
"That young man said he'd give me to someone who could get me home, and instead I'm just lying here in the palm of some drunken lout. A dirty back alley is no place for a woman of quality like myself. Tivros? Tivros, you promised to take care of me. Where are you? How could you forget you were carrying me around like that?"
Borgios slipped the gloves into the druid's pocket, then dropped the pile of clothing next to its unconscious -- but still living -- owner. All in all, a good night's work. He thought of the time he'd spent with Jalua. All in all, a good night. The temptation to depart here, join her clan, and stay with her was strong, but... I don't know. Rune was stronger than he was, and likely didn't need his help -- but he'd been kind enough to take in a stray rat when Borgios had been in desperate need of shelter, and as much as the wererat hated to think of himself as honorable, he still felt a debt there.
"So this is your druid?" asked Jalua, from behind him.
Borgios nodded. "This is him."
"Oh, great," said the amulet. "Now there are rats. Merciful Yondalla, I beg you to get me out of this place. I have always been a pious woman..."
"Why is his face glowing?" Jalua had slipped up into human form again, and was looking down at Rune.
"He has a demon trapped inside him," Borgios said. "The runes hold it in. Its power is trapped separately."
"That sounds... worrisome. Are you sure you'll be safe?"
"He thinks I'm just a rat," Borgios said. "And besides... I owe him."
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