Swamped

The first thought that comes to mind: just run, and get it there as fast as you can.

Moments later, you realize that, given your history, if you're seen running through the halls with two bottles of Keeper's finest, everyone's going to draw certain conclusions.

And then, you realize that's an excellent reason for would-be thieves not to get in your way; they'll just be drawing the attention of whoever's chasing you. And they don't know who that is.

So you put the bottles in the bag, and take off.

You're about halfway to Doc's when you start thinking that this was a really stupid idea, but on the other hand, you haven't been troubled by anybody. That said, you do need to stop and catch your breath, so you pause in an empty hallway.

"Well, somebody's in a hurry."

At least, you thought it was empty.

"What do you want, Crosswinds?"

"Me? Nothing. Never had a drink in my life, and I don't intend to start now. I thought you were on Keeper's blacklist, though."

"These are for Mudviper."

"I had no idea you two were that close."

"I'm in no mood for playing around, Crosswinds. Get to the point."

"The point is, since our last little talk, I've been keeping my eyes and ears open on your behalf. And I heard something you're not going to like."

"Rider's vanished, Mudviper's fallen ill, and I've got an unpleasant and awkward conversation with Doc in my future. So my day's already shot. Lay it on me, what's the new disaster I should be worried about?"