Fix sniffed the air deeply as his eyes darted back and forth up and down the small alleyway that he and Direo were currently occupying. The usual scent of garbage and grime was thick and he wrinkled his snout at the sharp tang as a whiff of urine intermingled with the cool night air. The smell of evening cooking was also mixed in, though he couldn’t fathom what food any of the nearby residents could possibly be preparing from the mixmash of unpleasant odours that reached his snout. 

“Smells like damp ass here…” grumbled the Gnoll, a giggle from Direo being the only response he received as he handed him a paper bag filled with cold hard cash. Fix opened the bag and peered inside briefly, the crumpled faces of the nation’s founders staring up at him before he rapidly stuffed it inside of his jacket with another cautionary glance behind him. A few moments later he returned a bag filled with a portion of the latest batch of Fairy Dust and other gear before he tossed it into the waiting arms of Direo, who moments later had hidden it somewhere on his person. 

“It’s cut more than I’d like this time” admitted Fix with a cautionary word “but shouldn’t be too much of a problem if you sell it mostly in the Narrows”. Fix knew not to fuck with the quality of the merchandise elsewhere, but in the Narrows drugs were drugs no matter what. 

The Gnoll nodded furiously and hesitated for a brief moment before he asked “Got a smoke boss?” 

Fix grinned before reaching for the packet of cigarettes from within his inner breast pocket, pulling one of the smokes out for himself he tossed the remaining half filled pack to Direo who did the same before Fix lit both of them with the small silver lighter he produced from his pocket. As they both began to smoke a quick stream of banter flitted back and forth as they discussed business and pleasure alike, Direo filling him in on the last few evenings skulking and selling, nothing new or unusual but still Fix listened intently. In return he told the Gnoll that things were going well enough, before again with a glance around he leant closer and motioned for his companion to do the same.

"I'll clue you in, our problem is that still no one wants to deal with us" Fix complained as he watched a small mouse scurry  out from behind one of the piles of steeped refuse beside them with one eye "those that do only do it when they've nowhere else to turn". 

The other Gnoll nodded again but didn't add anything further, so Fix continued "You know that Liu-jhan?" 

Again silence from Direo.

"The Tong boys who worked with us before?"

The Gnoll nodded. 

"Dead."

A look of comprehension spread across Direo's face as Fix continued. "So thats their shipment of Demon's Blood gone, poof, plus any good will with the Tong wiped clean with it. The damned Nyctari and Antediluvians won't even talk to me, and the Italians seem to feel about the same despite the Dust and other gear they [i]do[/i] sell us when it suits them. Fuckin punks the lot of em I tell ya".

It was the first time that their conversation had been filled with more gripes than humour, and the smile on Direo's face was rapidly fading. Fix took the opportunity to pull out a battered metallic flask and take a deep swig before handing it to the other Gnoll, who did the same. 

"Tell me Direo" he asked dropping the cigarette butt and crushing it under his clawed foot "You ever heard of this character, goes by the handle Anansi or something?"

Direo thought for a moment before nodding and replied "Yeah Boss, some ogre information broker, used to roll with some of the older Rats but moved on to bigger things. Not sure where he is now, somewhere better than us I'd wager". 

"Thats what I've heard too, apparently he worked with Gnolls in the past, so I figured he might do so again if we made it worth his while. Anyway, I've been telling the other boys and now I'm telling you, if you sell to any of the homeless or vagrants you tell em that I'm lookin to break bread with him, I'm looking for information and contacts and I can pay well to get em". 

----

Fix sat with his feet up as he furled through the tatty pages of an old pin-up magazine with several scantily clad human women. Odd, he thought, that he found them just as appealing as woman of his own kind, odder still that they didn't feel at all the same about him - or so experience had more than shown him. The desk before him was covered in all manner of papers, empty bottles and other miscellaneous junk and he took little notice as he shifted and an empty bottle fell and clattered onto the floor adding to the accumulating mess of the warehouse. 

Behind him a trio of Gnolls and a single goblin moved around the makeshift laboratory packing and processing a numerous quantities of drugs into small easily sellable amounts. Behind them was the sole car the group owned, a rather shabby second hand Chrysler Newport that despite its relative youth had already seen better days and had begun to rust in several places. The trunk was open and the unmistakable stench of dope permeated the air, a recent shipment having been brought in waiting its turn to be processed. 
The whole while in the background the radio crackled and spat out tune after tune, broken only by periodic announcements and adverts. Time seemed to be creeping by with little restraint as they each did what is was Fix paid them to do, what they were each best at. Soon enough the central table was cleared and stacks sorted into packages for each of his slingers lay stacked over another desk in the corner. Looking up again Fix threw the magazine onto the desk as he moved his feet off and turned to face the rest of them. One of the Gnolls, Dom, was now in the process of telling the others a story about some Gnoll working gal he'd found working along Drabstreet and suffice to say it soon had them all in fits of laughter as he  explained the freaky shit she'd let him do and the low low price of her time. 

"Classy as always Dom" joked Fix as soon as he had recovered, about to add something else when at that moment Direo came rapidly striding into the warehouse, swiftly throwing a rolled up newspaper towards Fix without saying a word. Unrolling it he asked "Whats this? Paper for the can? You bring me a cup of joe too?" which roused sniggers from the small group who all were now watching and waiting to see what he would say. 

Fix unrolled it and glanced down at the headline and saw in bold words 'Another Murder in Santa Somabra, gang's drug warfare starting to spiral out of control'. Skimming the article he saw precious few details as to who or what exactly had been whacked, but with what he knew about the Tongs he wondered if it wasn't linked in some way. 

"And?" said Fix looking back up at Direo. 

The Gnoll quickly explained "I been talkin to people like you said, anyway, so one of the jazz cats told me that one of the Italians got himself strung up by the hanged men for some shit he pulled with the customs office. He also tells me word is some of the Workers Militia here in the Narrows got themselves fucked up big time by the Hunters, but no-one could tell me what their beef was. You told me yesterday some of the Tong boys got themselves dead too, so sounds like there might be space to move up in the world soon enough".

The group was now centred around Fix as  he considered things. He had to admit he loved how his crew all turned to him and waited on his every word and instruction - like he was some kind of freakin genius or something. 

"Alright" he said as his face crumpled as he thought. "Business as usual for now boys, but keep an ear - no [i]both[/i] ears to the ground. If everything is about to blow up I don't want any of us catching the shrapnel for shit we ain't done. I wanna know who and more importantly why". He turned to Dom and asked "One of your brothers is tight with some of the Hunters right? Find out why they are fuckin with the Militia  and stirring it up if you can. Grizzo, I want you to [i]try[/i] and find out what you can from the Tong - but don't get pulled in, ask em about the Demon Blood shipment and see if they're still able to sell us anything, but be delicate for fucks sake - I don't want them thinkin we had anything to do with that." Dom and the Goblin both nodded and scurried out without further words. 

Fix ground his teeth a little, a habit he'd developed when he was dreading an upcoming task. "And I guess I will go and see what the Italians can  tell me and see if they're looking to up their import and distribution game. The rest of you stay, don't get killed and for fucks sake keep working" he barked as he pointed a clawed finger at the huge stack of stinking dope that was still reeking up the place. See the thing about working with the Italians was that, if you weren't with them you were against them. If they were clashing with the Hanged Men it meant that they'd expect Fix and his crew to do the very same if they wanted to business together, and Fix had worked awful hard to stay off the radar of those whackos - something he'd be in no hurry to change.