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Journal of an Adventurer
Do not forget to bring a shield..

Do not forget to bring a shield..

These injuries need some attention. How could I slip up so much? I should have known that she would not give up easily, but no. I have, it seems, a soft spot for women. Well, there are exceptions; Stillwater, for example. She is scary.

Still cannot hear anything over there. Should I yell out? I wish we had some way to communicate with each other without talking out loud. Should bring that up with WayWocket. He will figure out something to help. Grow a pair and call out. Either way, I’m probably dying, because now I’m imagining things—Stillwater and the gang moving closer.

Down I go ...

“—okay?”

What, who, huh?

“—healed up—blood—around soon.”

That sounded like someone I know—but they are an arsehole. It must be Gunnar. If I am hearing him, I hope we are dead!

“Splash—water—bring him to.”

That was Stillwater. And there is the water—so refreshing. At least she did not think of kicking me awake. I should be grateful.

“Enough! I am awake!” I look around and see everyone, all sporting blood and cuts. It seems that they have been in the wars too. “I see that you won out as well. I am glad.”

The nice stabbing feeling has gone from my leg and shoulder; it seems that they have been removed. Stillwater shakes her head and looks at the goop surrounding me. “It seems like you can't follow orders.” Wait a darn minute—is she smiling? Is Joan pulling my leg? “Thank you for coming, Lone. If you hadn't taken these guys out, it might have been the end of us.”

She gestures to Gunnar and WayWocket. What a guess, WayWocket goes first. “Blood, goo. Goop and blood. You find the most interesting things. Goo everywhere. Lucky for past and future us. Present us thanks you.”

Gunnar grunts, “Yeah, thanks.”

Looking at both of them, I say, “That is alright. You saved me earlier today anyway. And it seems that someone healed me of the worst of my wounds.” Great, I owe them again. Have to pay it back later. “Did you find out what they wanted here?”

WayWocket pipes in, “Look, look at this.” He opens a mouldy sack and takes a handful of some rank, diseased-looking grain—gross! “See, see. This is bad. City will starve, and chaos will befall us. Evil, bad.”

“Could someone please translate?” I enquire.

Gunnar answers—that is strange. “See, this grain has a particular mould on it. If they introduce it into the bins, it would poison all the grain inside and cause hallucinations. I’ve seen this stuff before. The only way to remove it is burning. If they’d succeeded tonight, then there wouldn't have been enough good grain left in the city to feed everyone.”

“But that would not starve the population. There is the lake and food from outlying villages. We would have been fine.”

Stillwater says, “True, there is the lake and the nearby villages, but outsourcing enough food would still take time to organise. And think how long it might have taken them to realise it was contaminated. Considering what Gunnar knows about this mould, it might have hurt a lot of people before it was discovered. We are just lucky that we caught them beforehand.”

She is right. In a town this large, and with preparations for the Duke arriving in a couple of days, who knows what could have happened.

“Let’s pack up and move out. See if we can wake up the guards and have a good look around before heading back.”

Gunnar snaps to. He glares at me a little—what’s new—before marching off. WayWocket seems content looking at the goo and begins to gather some samples.

“Joan, did you three have trouble finding your way inside the warehouse district tonight?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“I had to dodge some of Malik's Dock Boys. There are a few of them out here, but it is not even their territory.”

“Do you think they’re just moving through, or are they waiting for something?”

“Well, it seems that they are at most exits, but I cannot confirm that. Not only that, there is no light post lit or even any city guards around. I have no idea what is happening, do you?”

I have to admit that Stillwater has an attractive pondering face. “Are any of them near here?”

“No, most are a couple of streets away, near Tanner Lane.” Stupid name. “There were at least another two groups of ten. Most of them are kids and thugs. Only a few are trained in any sort of combat.”

“You seem to know a lot about these guys. Be honest with me—are you one of them? It seems strange that you came upon all this information. I don't want to accuse you, but things don't add up.”

“Let me be frank, Joan. I do not have a great past. Before this, I was struggling to make ends meet, and yes, I have had contact with Malik on more than one occasion. This does not mean I am one of them. I was their favourite punching bag for a while. Trust me, I really dislike them. To the Abyssus with that, I really hate and loathe them!”

Yay, Gunnar and WayWocket are back. Stillwater says, “Report?”

Gunnar, that brown-noser. “Well, boss, the guards are—”

“Off to fairyland. A wonderful mixture of chemicals that gently lifts them all to a subconscious realm of imagination. Pity, no residue. And just goop here. Hmm, like to add to my expansion mixture, but alas, none can be found.”

“Yeah, boss, they are just asleep.” He glares at WayWocket, who is again off with the dandelions.

Is he licking that? Gross!

Way is bouncing around like he has found the secret to life. Then he chirps “If we have some of the concoction, could create something to snap them out more quickly.”

I feel like I might know something. What could it be …

“Nothing we can—”

There is Stillwater, planning and leading like always.

“With all of them being—”

And Gunnar just repeating stuff we already know. Think. This seems familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.

“Lone!”

What? Stillwater is yelling at me, like always.

“Lone to reality! Are you there?”

“Sorry, Joan, I was thinking … What did you need?”

I can see Gunnar does not like me using Stillwater’s first name. Glare all you want, mate. She told me to call her Joan.

“Did you come across anyone else who was part of the sabotage? As you can see, they have some sort of strategy to make sure they are not questioned.”

“Yeah, yeah, I found a guy up there.” I am good at pointing; it was my speciality in the army. “He is dead, but I do not think I gave him enough time to think. Maybe somehow I stopped the ‘turn to goo’ process, as I did not give him that much time to react.” I chuckle to myself.

“Just up there, Lone?” Stillwater inquires.

“Yeah, it might take one up there and two down here to catch him. How about I go up there since I know where he is?”

Off I go climbing the drain again; this time I can make as much noise as I want. The smell of blood, is that not nice? After all these years, I still have not gotten used to it. There he is. Great, not goop!

I yell, “Over here!”

Gunnar growls at me, “Keep it down, moron! We don't want the Dock Boys or anyone else coming here, idiot!”

That hurts my feelings a little. Not like the Dock Boys are going to come in here. They do have orders; not sure what, but it looks important.

“Just come over here so I can drop the body down.” This dead thing is tough to move; it is all stiff and heavy. I should drop it on Gunnar, it might cheer him up. Well, it will cheer me up.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Here we go. Catch!”

I try to lower the body by its legs. This is more tiring than the fight I just had; or is it because of the fight that I am tired?

“That’s it, Lone, just a bit further.” Got to like a strong woman. Cannot drop it on her or she will drop me. “I have it. Let go.”

Heading back down now. I could be in a nice warm tavern or bed—Pela's bed. Awww, why can I never get the girl? I did not even try the hero angle on her. Do not think it is going to work now after I told Pela that I do not believe I am a hero. Damn it, so close.

“So, what have you found out, WayWocket?”

Does not even look at me. “Hmm, seems to be a half-breed like yourself.” I can hear Gunnar say something under his breath. “From the colouring and facial structure, most likely related to Zlata. But this will need more investigation.”

Is it just me or is he speaking ‘funny’—well, normal? I see WayWocket swig from a flask. Ah, his ‘normal’ potion.

“This is interesting. He has two false teeth; hollow and filled with something.”

Stillwater cuts in, “Could this be what they use to turn to slime?”

“Hmm, can't rule it out. Need to analyse this in the lab. Seems that the holes for the teeth could hold a larger tooth. This is just conjecture. The teeth could be tusk-like, protruding from the lower jaw. Strange.”

That is something. “So, Way, you are saying that this guy and Zlata have some common traits? Joan, could Zlata be more involved in this than we think?”

“Not sure. Gunnar, what do you make of all this?”

Why would she ask Gunnar? What would he know?

“Boss, you know my feelings about this subject.”

What feelings—being an arsehole?

“Please, Gunnar,” Stillwater says. Am I missing something? “I need your report on the situation, corporal!”

“Yes, boss. As I see it, to run this sort of operation, you need money and influence. Now, hypothetically, if Zlata is involved more than just being on the payroll, this whole thing could have much larger consequences. Her being acting commander, the grain stores nearly being poisoned, the Duke's arrival.”

Wow, I did not think Gunnar was so smart. Stillwater continues, “I can see what you’re saying. So who is funding all this? Couldn't be Malik, bullying poor people like Solo here.” Turns to me. “No offence, Lone.”

Yeah, no offence. “None taken, Joan.”

“Where was I? Yes, there must be another source who is pulling all the strings. They must have wanted Zlata to be the acting commander. Malik is the muscle, and these guys do the dirty work. WayWocket, how long would it take to corrupt the grain stores?”

“I would need to know the strain of mould, but tentatively I can say between two days to a week. The stuff that they use is of a fresh quality, and if they also use water, it would make it spread faster. I would still like to test this and the tooth at the lab. Has anyone found, say, a dart or any small vials on his person?”

One second. Oh yes! “Sorry, I found these. I assumed that they were used to knock out the guards. It might work on these fellows.”

“Bloody typical white-backs, thinking about loot instead of everyone else! If I had a slip—”

Stillwater cuts in. “That’s enough. If it wasn't for Lone here, we'd be dead! Show some bloody gratitude!”

That is a first—never heard her swear before. If I hear her say ‘to the Abyssus’ next, she is so going to be my drinking buddy!

“Please, Lone, can you hand that over to WayWocket?”

This is the second time in a matter of days that someone has stuck up for me. With a smile on my face, I say, “Sure thing, Joan. Here you go, Way. I did use one of the darts, but I missed.”

“Good, good. This is going to be a productive morning. Pass me my bag. I need to put all these samples into it. Can we bring the corpse as well? I would like time to examine it in a more appropriate place.”

Stillwater shakes her head. “With everything that’s happened out here tonight, I don't think that’s a good idea. We still have to make it through the Dock Boys, who are prowling around out here somewhere.”

“Yes, yes, I have something for this sort of situation.” What is this crazy Gnome up to? “Here it is! Little bit of this on here, and presto!” The solution WayWocket pours onto the dead body makes it shrink right before our eyes.

What the Holy Saints is that? Is Way a witch of some kind? I thought he was just an engineer, like most Gnomes! This gives me the willies!

“There we go—one little dead thing.” The body has shrunk to the size of a cat now. I hope he never does that to me. “I put it in a sack. Who wants to carry? Should move quick. Won't stay like this forever.”

“Give it here, Way! Yella liver here looks like he’s about to throw up!”

Good old Gunnar, cannot resist giving me a hard time. How long did it take—thirty seconds? Wow, a new record!

Stillwater speaks up, “Listen up, Rejects. Lone here spotted Dock Boys guarding the exits earlier tonight. So we need to find a safe way out of here. Gunnar?”

Good point. If anyone would know, it would be smells-like-a-sewer Gunnar. Oh no. Please do not suggest a sewer! Not in the mood for going through someone's finished product—gross!

“From here, boss, no. A few streets over, there is an entrance to the sewers.” I knew it. Of course, that is where we would go. I will need to visit a public bath after this. “So, what are the patrols like?”

After a couple of seconds quiet, a few eyes look my way. “Oh, you meant me? Coming from Tanner Lane, I passed two patrols of ten. And at the beginning of the warehouse district is another group of ten. We could stick to the shadows and slip by the groups. What do you think about that plan, Joan?”

“I assume that you have that sort of skill, and Gunnar too, but I do not sneak. These are criminals, and I will not use their tactics.”

Gunnar huffs. “But, boss, if you don't want to sneak around, why ask me if there is another way out of here? I can't keep everyone healed up. Even Way is becoming fatigued. I hate to admit it, but let’s do what Solo suggests. It will be safer.”

“Only in the light do they see. Cover, cover. No eyes. Slip and slide between the gaps. Only in the dark can we find the right way.”

Good old WayWocket. “WayWocket has a point.” Grabbing Stillwater's shoulder. What? They are huge! My hand can barely hold on. Is she flexing on purpose? “Um, yeah, why put ourselves into that situation? Let us find the safer path with lots of cover. I know you want to stay faithful to your convictions, but this time you need to listen to us. We cannot risk getting caught now.”

Stillwater looks at us sadly. I can see our arguments have impacted on her, but there is still indecision in her eyes. Finally, she says, “Okay … Let’s do it your way. Getting back to base to uncover this plot is the paramount issue here, and is more important than bringing lowly crims to justice. But I do hate letting them slip through my fingers.”

“I can understand that, boss, but there’s nothing we can do about it if we’re dead!”

That’s a good point, Gunnar. Not like I would say it out loud though. I start to hustle the group. “Okay, if we are moving, let us up and move! Remember, keep to the shadows. And, Joan, you are going to have to ditch your breastplate, so you do not clang while we sneak back, or you can cover it with some thick cloth. Everyone else, you need to muffle your weapons too. Wrap some cloth around them if you have it.”

They all look at me with a strange look in their eyes. “What? It is what we did on all our infiltrating missions in the army. It is not weird at all! The quieter we are, the less likely we are to be seen, which means we have a higher chance of surviving tonight. You can stop staring now, okay?”

Stillwater looks at me, shock plastered across her face. She takes a few cloaks and tucks them in her breastplate. “You were in the army?”

Gunnar also looks aghast.

“Yeah, so? I was a corporal. Spent five in service. What has that got to do with us escaping?”

Gunnar sputters out, “You were a corporal! Why are you so incompetent?”

“Hang on a second! I have never been a Watchman before, so of course, I am not familiar with all your tactics and procedures. If it comes to fighting and patrolling the Wild Lands, then yes, I know how to do that.”

Not to mention digging latrines—that was a barrel of laughs. Filling them in was worse, come to think of it. Why do beans need to be one of the main sources of food?

They do not look so wide-eyed now. Still, I catch the occasional look my way as we move out. I feel a little hand on my arm; it is WayWocket's.

“Don't worry, Lone. Always been looked at like I know nothing. Not true. I see beyond this reality into the endless flow of existence. I see you. You are special. Here, drink. Experience the vast, unending beauty of reality.” No way in the blackest pit of the Abyssus would I drink something from WayWocket. Just politely shake your head. “Fine, just one more for me.”

And down in one gulp. Strange, strange Gnome. Checking my equipment, all muffled. “Let me have a look at you.” I check over Stillwater's, Gunnar's, and WayWocket's weapons and gear. “Okay, I have to show you what I mean. Weapons are useless if you cannot pull them out silently. See how I have done it? Stops the clinking but—” Draw it out quickly and quietly. “—completely free for me to use if the situation calls for it.”

Check that they have it right. “I will take point. Do you all know signals?” I see blank looks. Great.

“Okay, the ones that we need will be come.” I demonstrate the hand signal to the group slowly.

“Stop.” I thought they would have had some sort of brief military training.

“Move up.” Hard to stay patient.

Oh yes, one more. “This one is I see something.”

Give them a little bit more time and go over everything again briefly. Have no idea if they understand. I hope they get it, so they do not get me killed!

“I do not have to tell you to be quiet—that is a given. Ready? Follow me. Keep ten paces behind. Gunnar, you have the most experience on the streets so you will be bringing up the rear. WayWocket in front of him, and Joan behind me. Any questions?”

“Lone, I have one. If you were this proficient in the army, why did you leave?”

“Well, it is not really the time … Do you really want to know?” All three heads nodding. “Okay, I will make it brief. I joined the army to become a citizen of Favinonia. After my tour, I left and came here. End of story. Can we start moving now?”

Before they can ask me another stupid question, I head to the entry. Looking around, there is no sight of the Dock Boys here. I motion them to come up, then I move across the street.

Why do they care so much about me being in the army?

Looks clear. They come when I motion. WayWocket bumps into a bin. I turn around and press my finger to my lips. Typical civilians.

There is one of the lads. Love how they have kept all the gaslights off, so easy to see them coming. Hold my hand to stop and find cover. Look back. Oh yeah, I did not show them that one. Ducking behind some boxes, I exaggerate to them the I see something signal and motion back.

Good, they are moving. Glad the lads are not very proficient in patrolling. I gently tap the wall and show them to keep to it.

Oh ordure, another one. How many lads does Malik have on tonight? This is another group of ten. Did he recruit from other gangs? Motioning quickly to go into another alley.

“How far is the sewer grate, Gunnar?” I whisper.

“Not far. Up this block, around the corner.”

There just seem to be a lot of Dock Boys around. Two patrols in a matter of minutes. If they were not using those lanterns, we would have been spotted. We could move back to the warehouses and bunker down until the morning. I look at Stillwater for the final decision.

“Keep going or head back?” I ask her.

Stillwater takes a moment to consider the options. She replies quietly, “Let’s push on. I have important questions for the night sergeant. I will need to see him tonight.”

“You are the boss, Joan.”

I can hear Gunnar snickering in the dark.

“Let us keep it tight, and keep an eye out. I cannot see everything!”

We leave the alley. What is with Stillwater? Hugging the wall, who cares if the night guy has done something corrupt—is that not usual in the Watch?

A light goes on. I motion them to move. At least I do not see the atrocious names of the streets—still cannot believe that they could call them such basic names! What would this street be, I wonder: Building Road or Storage Street? I might check it later … if I survive.

The source of the light has moved on. Good, nearly there. One more turn and we are home free.

Oh great, it is Malik!