Descending down the narrow, curving stone staircase and stepping into the calf high flowing water. A small amount of light coming down from the storm drain above. The sewers, a home away from home. The guild back in Lumeer had been located in the sewers on the east side of the city near the Rat Cellar. There were only a handful of entrances without climbing in and out of a storm drain, but they permitted good chunks of the city to be navigated, in a general sense. It's not even an overly filthy way to travel, except during dry spells. The entrances in the noble district had been deliberately sealed, and reinforced, and double reinforced, any number of times due to guild activity.
“Which one do you want?” Holding up my two knives. The first, my oldest, trustiest friend since coming in. Well made, plain steel. The other, my newer, flashier version. Plain steel with a red glow.
The shine catching her eye. “That one looks like it's amazing, but then what are you going to use?” Patting my hatchet. The girl tearing her attention away and grabbing trusty and true, ordinary plain steel. “Give me the sheath and I'll use it as a backup. Your, like, magic stuff, that pointy picture, what can you put it on?”
“Any weapon.”
“Could you put it on a rock?”
“I mean, sure.”
“Like a piece of this brick, here. To make it strong for throwing.”
“I don't-” well, why not? “-see why that wouldn't work.” The rune worked just fine on her stone club, and a rock is practically, by definition, the most simple of weapons. “I'll try.”
Exchanging gear and getting a hand sized piece of dense, clay brick. Drawing Rune of Striking. Dang, it's dark in here. How about... Magpie's breath caching. Glow in the dark writing. Activating. Removing the symbol and handing it back.
“How does that feel?”
The girl giving it a couple practice tosses. “Light. Really good. Could you make me a couple more?”
“Sure.” Starting to adding runes to a few more chunks of brick. “Magpie, if we run into anyone down here, we're not going to apologize for intruding, or ask permission to pass through. We're certainly not going waste any time explaining ourselves. We'll disable, disarm or destroy, but above all else we need to keep moving. Our destination is-” getting my bearings “-that way.”
“But north is that way, I think.” Magpie points in the direction the water is flowing from.
“No, that's-” getting my bearings again, just to make sure “-northwest. When we were coming into the city there were those drainage ditches, and this sewer system was probably designed to help manage irrigation.” Pointing to the wall. “So direct north is that way, and our destination is more north-northeast. The drainage tunnels on this side empty out to the southeast, but there should also be access tunnels running crosswise to then. We need to go a little south from here in order to find one of those and head north.”
“Or, if we go northwest, the tunnel will naturally turn because of the river,” she says, “and that'll be a straight shot north.”
“You're probably right, but do you feel like swimming? The water probably gets deeper if we go that way.”
“Yeah, but-” Magpie chewing on that for a moment. “Okay,” she concedes. “Lead the way, I'll be a couple steps behind you.” Her eyes and Cheshire grin the last parts to fade from sight.
Moving at a steady, deliberate pace in the direction of the flowing water. Magpie a step or two behind: felt more than anything, neither seen, nor heard. A second shadow. The realization a gut punch. Been sneaking around to the best of my ability, but compared to her practiced footfalls it's barely over the line of adequate, and probably still bordering on amateur. This isn't my domain, not anymore. My attempts at stealth are nothing more than playing at being a Thief, but when standing next to the real deal it doesn't even rise to the level of imitation. Hardly even second rate. If we run into anyone down here, they're dead. Going to kill the whole lot.
Adjusting to the gloom and following the pipes running along the top of the tunnel. Some of them making a turn and branching off to the left. Unsheathing my knife and using the soft, red glow to see. Metal rungs on the wall. An access tunnel leading to the northeast. Climbing the rungs and carefully treading along the drier surface, my soft, squelching footsteps much too loud in my own ears. Quickening my pace. Hitting the junction with the next drainage tunnel. Down the rungs, splashing through the water, and up the next set of metal rungs to continue northeast. Another junction. Splashing though the drainage tunnel water - it isn't my imagination, the water is getting slightly deeper as we head north - up the ladder and continuing along the access tunnel.
A bit of light ahead, expecting another junction with a storm drain letting in some sunlight, but instead finding a room containing a large cistern and a few small light sources on the wall. The walkway continuing around the room in a semi circle to the exit on the other side. Low light coming from the path in that direction. Deactivating the shield, the sound of dripping and flowing water replacing the crackling echo. Looking back to where Magpie should be, the passage still and silent. Letting my eyes adjust.
A flurry of movement, a thickness in the air, and a sudden cry of pain that's cut off. The two figures coalescing in my vision. A man falling to the ground and Magpie withdrawing her knife from his eye socket.
“He started following us a little bit back.” Wiping her knife on his coat and starting to search his pockets.
“Anything?” Walking over and reactivating the shield to add more light.
“His gear is nothing special. This pouch has silver and-” A small, familiar insignia.
“We're getting near.” No need to elaborate near what, and we're still not even halfway to where we're staying.
Turning back in the direction of the cistern, with Magpie once again out of sight. Walking around the edge, but something isn't right. Always listen to instinct. It may not always be right, but it usually isn't trying to lie. Activating the shield at full brightness, the cracking flash revealing two men who'd been waiting near the exit on the other side, their hands going up to block the sudden light. My advance not slowing.
“You're trespassing,” one says.
“Only passing through. Get out of our way.”
My perfectly reasonable request, presented with nothing other than highest degree of diplomatic aplomb, earning me only a thrown knife for my trouble. Deflected off to the side with a pulse of the shield. The man a bit further back moving a few steps toward the exit while the one in front assumes a defensive posture and slowly backs off.
Standard guild protocol for invasion: scout out the approaching force and determine relative strength. If minor, neutralize. If anything even slightly more than minor, delay the approach, if possible, but prioritize returning to base and rallying a defense. The guild's last major skirmish in Lumeer had been about three years ago, and we'd successfully defended and counterattacked due to that protocol, solidifying our control over the entire eastern side of the city. These things undoubtedly have similar rules in place, but since they haven't yet turned tail it means we're being underestimated.
Walking in and raising my weapon, but not swinging or stabbing, instead giving the shield a pulse to push the man back a couple steps. His right foot firmly finding the metal grating, but his left treads too close to the edge and sends him tumbling sideways into the water. Ignoring his splashing and trying to chase the other, now retreating, target. Something whipping by my right side, about head level, and connecting with the fleeing man's temple. A piece of brick. The distinct rock to skull sound echoing slightly longer than the lower pitched sound of his body hitting the metal grate.
Kneeling down and resting my knife on his face. “I don't want to kill you. How do we safely get by?”
One eye blinking, then the other coming blinking after, slightly delayed. “Go...straight. First left...” His breathing becoming labored and his eye twitching uncontrollably. “Then... go...” Passing out. Magpie using the opportunity to collect another money pouch.
Following his limited instructions and taking a left at out first opportunity, at the end of a long T junction. The corridor narrowing and becoming a winding series of turns heading in an approximately northward direction. On the wall, every ten feet or so, is a deliberately installed, faint light source. Finally, after making a number turns in near darkness a much brighter light source becomes visible, shining around the next corner. Making the turn, knifepoint leading.
A rectangular room with two other exits, filled with barrels and crates along the walls, as well as three men, obvious ruffians, eating food and playing cards at a wooden table. The surprise lasting only an instant. A single, alarmed jabber sending them to their feet, and the one with his back to us grabbing his nearby scabbard and gracefully unsheathing a saber. The man quickly rushing at me, sword leading with an extended thrust.
Activating the shield, angled, to deflect the straight thrust wide. The man yelling something while attempting to correct his overextended balance. Magpie appears at his side, out of thin air, with a strike aimed at his throat. The man, surprised, panicked, yanking back his sword and spinning to narrowly deflect her attack with the weapon's pommel. Grabbing at his empty arm with the shield to try and stop his free movement, but the momentum from his panicked defense allowing him to pull away and complete the spin to gain some space. The swordsman yelling something else and the other two making their move. The first turning and running away, while the second draws his own knife and moves in to help.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Magpie swapping her knife to her offhand and reaching for another piece of brick. Pulling her arm back to throw, but then forced abandon the attempted attack at the retreating target due to the swordsman's lunge in her direction. A feinted lunge. His thrust at her turning into a slash a me. The shield blunts the momentum, but the blade cleaves through to land a solid slash on my lightly armored chest. Ribs kissed, but not too deep.
Raising my ungloved hand, causing the swordsman to back off a step. A black blot appearing on his clothing. Magpie swapping her knife back to her dominant hand, taking a step forward, thinking about trying to flank again, but hesitating as the other ruffian lines up across from her. Removing pieces from my black blot on the swordsman, leaving a Rune Trap.
Squaring my shoulders and walking in. “Magpie, kill that one.” Pointing at the knife wielder while activating the Rune Trap.
Motion sickness, sea sickness, whatever sickness it is, causes immediate distress for the swordsman. The man defensively raising his weapon and instinctively backing off, which creates two immediate problems for the other ruffian. Abandoned by his friend and distracted by a pulse of the shield. His indecision solved by a thrown knife piercing his neck.
Pressing the attack on the temporarily sickened man. Swatting aside his sword thrust with the shield and countering with a solid stab to the stomach. The man's final, frenzied upward slash causing me to slide back, but the opportunity allowing Magpie to close the distance unimpeded and pierce the side of his throat by way of his armpit. Granting the man a merciful death with a strike to the eye. The sound of our labored breathing fills the room.
“We've got to keep moving.”
“You did that without being anywhere near him,” she says.
“That's something else I'm trusting you with. C'mon, we've got to get some distance before they raise the alarm.”
“Hold up a second, this one has a decent sword.” The girl grabbing the saber, its scabbard and two more money pouches.
Exiting the room by taking exit the runner didn't use. Getting to the end of that tunnel and colliding into some iron bars going floor to ceiling. A locked gate. Saying a small prayer and looking over at Magpie. You didn't bring any herbs and you didn't bring any food. That wasn't good planning on your part, but ultimately it wasn't critical. But please, please don't tell me you've neglected to observe one of the essential lessons of the guild. Please tell me you have-
“I'll open the door.” Magpie pulls out a small, flat pouch, causing relief flooding my system. Her tools. The girl crouching and settling into the process of picking the lock. Activating the shield to light up the tunnel behind us and putting a blot on the ground for another Rune Trap. Fishing around for my herb pouch.
“I know you got assigned to this trip without much notice, but why didn't you bring anything with a bigger reach than a knife?”
“Huh?” The distracted reply coming after a couple moments. “You're not exactly one to talk.”
“I'm sort of restricted, but I know you're not.”
“I'm not set up for it right now. Besides, you said it earlier, a knife is useful in town. I can't get away with carrying anything much bigger while working at the nightclub.”
“When we get back you're going to start coming out into the field with me.”
The girl pausing mid lockpick. “You're not even asking, are you?”
“You don't want to?”
“I dunno,” she says, while resuming the delicate task. Feeling out the tumblers. “Ask me again, politely, after I've taken a bath and my feet are a hundred percent dry.” A distinct clicking sound followed by the iron gate swinging open. “I got it, let's go.”
Splashing northwest through another drainage tunnel, the water rising just past the knee. Getting to another access tunnel and heading northeast. A series of tunnels later poking our heads outside the sewer entrance closest to our lodging, roughly four or five streets away. Our previously fresh, clean clothes now covered head to toe in muck, but at least it covers up the blood.
Getting out and walking purposefully down the street, weapons drawn, faces grim. Things in their bright clothing taking one look and moving out of the way. One street, and then a loud spate of jabbering, someone in the direction of our destination pointing at us, and a couple of them turning to look.
Running - being chased - and then sliding back down the ladder and wading away from the entrance. No one immediately coming after, but then a ball of fire roaring down from the opening above and exploding as it hits the water, causing a warm, rolling wave of steam to fill the tunnel. tak tak tak tak tak tak tak tak. Several sets of boots coming down the ladder.
“Stay hidden. I'll bait 'em.”
Moving away from the entrance, but not fast. Bumbling along, splashing and activating the shield to make even more noise and cause a distraction. The one in the back, the Wizard, making some gestures and speaking a phrase of magic. Reaching the end of his chant and then throwing another ball of fire in my direction. Taking a breath and hitting the deck as the fiery explosion fills the tunnel with a new burst of steam. Spluttering, getting back on my feet, and starting to backpedal as his two friends begin the chase. One raising a crossbow, taking aim and firing a bolt. Trying to use the shield to block it, but the projectile simply going wide and missing altogether. The man slowing down as he reloads, and behind him the Wizard starts to make more gestures and speak another arcane phrase.
Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer. Occasionally, however, it can be very quick. Magpie's silhouette appearing and the Wizard suddenly finding it very difficult to articulate the rest of his spell. The sound of his sudden *urk* causing the two in front to stop short and look back at their ex-friend. The one still reloading his crossbow bringing it up to block Magpie's thrust while trying to get out another weapon. The man getting stabbed in the middle, but not deep, and managing to draw his sword. Giving a big slash and making her back off. The girl's form fading into the steam. The two men putting their backs to each other and hesitating. Waiting to see our next move move. Which is the wrong move.
Putting a blot on the one facing me and activating another Rune Trap. The man also resisting the spell, not freezing in place, but the obvious look of sickness forcing his guard to break. Trying to step back and retreat, but in doing so backing into his friend and throwing that one off balance. Magpie reappearing and getting two quick slashes on her target. One side of the face, the other side of the face, near the eyes. Fading once again into the steam.
The sickly one with nowhere left to go, trying to look behind him while also trying to watch me in front. Taking a knife to the back and then to the side of the neck, and the tunnel going still. Waiting a few moments to see if any more are going to be coming down before starting our time honored tradition. Rifling the bodies.
“These guys definitely have some good stuff,” says Magpie, “This knife isn't bad. Not as good as mine, but definitely a decent backup if you're interested. What's that guy got?”
“A wand that shoots, um, I think short ranged electricity. I'm not exactly proficient, but it's definitely worth something. A scrollcase, too. Hopefully not junk, but we'll see.”
“What's that crossbow made of?” she asks.
“Tough to tell, but probably- oh. The bow string got cut.”
Climbing back up to the exit and poking our heads out again. The last group had all been wearing metallic items, so the Druid, at least, is still out there. Leaving the sewers, again. Weapons ou,t again. Eyes peeled. One street. Nothing yet. Two streets and our destination coming into sight. Not even chancing it and breaking into a run.
A man yelling. There he is, that's the Druid. The man reaching into his pocket for a spell component and- a piece of brick, traveling at high velocity, smashing into his face, sending him reeling to the side, spitting blood and teeth. Magpie pulling her arm back and throwing two more chunks of brick in quick succession, forcing his nearby friends to defensively throw up their arms. The two of us reaching the door to the brothel and hurriedly pulling it open. Magpie throwing her last brick as a parting gift and then shooting them the bird.
Getting inside, ready for an immediate ambush. Nothing. Ishtar's patron grinning at us from across the way with a wide-mouthed, open smile. Shark teeth. Waiting a few moments in the entrance as our heart rates and breathing returns to normal. Looking at each other and sharing relief. Glancing back at the statue and- Huh, the usual tightly closed, thin-lipped smile. Walking through the titty bar and up the stairs. Sounds, expected ones, coming from the first room on the list. Opening the door and entering without even bothering to knock. Coitus interruptus. Greene kneeling behind a hooker. At our grim, filth covered entrance the two stopping, the girl going wide eyed and the guy trying to figure out what's going on.
“Tommy, sorry to interrupt, but I got something for you. Hold out your hands.” Greene clearly thinking about asking a question, or possibly several, but choosing not to. “Here's your cut. We went through a lot of bullshit getting it to you, but don't you worry about any of that. It's payday.” Thirteen gold coins.
Hitting up the rest of the rooms and running into one other similar situation. Sometimes needing to knock, sometimes not. Some people in, some people not. Finally, Daniel and Serena's room. Pushing open the door and, yes, they're in, and Wallace is with them, too. Making a sandwich. Walking over to the couch and unceremoniously dumping the money.
“It's payday.” Washing my hands of everything and turning to Magpie. “I'm really hungry. You want to grab lunch?”
“I need to wash my face first,” she says.
“You two make sure you're back here by six.” Daniel's voice floating over from the bed as we're almost out the door. “We're all going to be having dinner together.”
Quick salute. “Yes, sir.” Short, clipped and businesslike.
Brothel lunch - even better than brothel breakfast. Well, maybe not, we're just hungrier.
“We need to go to the bathhouse and get this all cleaned again,” Magpie laments.
“Our underwear, too.”
Silence. The two of us glowering at nothing in particular over our half full pints. Magpie putting a hand over her face, leaning back and starting to laugh. The girl's mirth leaving me little choice but to join in.
Raising my mug. “To us. It wasn't pretty, but nothing usually is. We killed the fuck out of that.” Clink. Drinking 'em down. “Before we go to the bathhouse we need to make a quick stop, first.”
Back to where we'd been several hours ago. Back to the bank. The teller standing up at our entrance and saying something. Probably inconsequential. The woman realizing she needs to run, but that realization simply occurring too late to be acted on. Reaching out with a gloved hand and freezing her in place. The teller making a sound. Trying to. Probably trying to call for help or, more realistically, begging for mercy.
Giving a push and the sound ringing out, clear as a bell, on the stone floor. Getting in a couple kicks, and Magpie doing the same.
“If you even think about pulling shit like that again I'm going to come back here and kill you real slow. Real slow. Tell what's left of your friends what's going to happen.”
The teller's bleary eyed look is dazed, unfocused, and leaking, but she's undoubtedly gotten the message. Magpie giving a final, gratuitous kick. The stomping of boots and clanking of metal armor from the direction of the vault signaling the arrival of any number of guards. Halt! Criminal scum! Stop right there! The two of us making a break for it, scampering out onto the street and running off.
“I feel so much better. You mind if we do a quick errand after we get cleaned up?”