After a quick trip back to her apartment and with Tucker bouncing along merrily beside her, the crew followed Fiona’s direction, with the large black and blue cat testing the air too as if sniffing for something.
Is this the craziest thing you’ve ever witnessed?” Bonnie asked Greg distantly.
“Bon-bon, I’ve seen many strange things in my time, and this is not the strangest. Surprisingly. It ranks pretty far up there though–a person with a literal treasure scent.”
“24 karat magic in the aiiiiiir!” Fiona sang enthusiastically. No one behind her of course had heard such an up-funk beat, but Fiefdala was being introduced to it, in style. “C’mon guys, I smell it this way!”
“We will never be able to hide the snacks from her again,” Darla mused behind her.
Their journey took many meandering turns, through alleys and backways, and even following through drainage ditches. Fiona suspected that the gilded rats had indeed, taken this path. No one would willingly go this way, and rats would be far less noticeable. They were indeed, quite clever.
Their journey took them to the loading port for various barges and steamboats that shipped goods up and down the lake, with the pier weathered but serviceable. The sun had already dipped below the hills to the west. Fiona led the way, following that instinctively trail, pulling her closer to the source. She frowned, the trail was leading them toward a storm drain, past debris from the lake on a dirty portion of the beach, where driftwood and an occasional fish skeleton were strewn on the sand.
Now, she could make out faint scratch marks in the sand–they seemed to be from the claws of a small to medium-sized animal, walking on all fours--and occasionally on their hind legs. She motioned to Greg, who had his notepad in hand, and he scratched in a few lines of the approximate tracks.
“I think this is our rats, headed home,” she proposed.
“Not surprising. The undercity of Fiefdala is vast, and mages do run a plant to uh…well, refine the water so that it doesn’t sully the lake,” he spoke softly. A glance at the storm drain, with the rusted bars and still serviceable metal gate, suggested the rats could come and go, but people couldn’t. At least, not without magical assistance.
But, a magical ward shimmered into being when she attempted to open the doorway, and the lock clicked tightly together. She pulled against it with more force, and while she heard the metal creak, that barrier behind it was reinforcing the metal. “Hey, what gives? The rats can come and go, but we can't? So rude,” she muttered.
“Most people don't want to go into the sewer and aqueduct system. Because, you know, sewage.” Darla held her nose as if she'd caught a whiff of something unpleasant. All Fiona could smell was that unique scent of the treasure lost in the depths. “What should we do, call the watch, and tell them thieving rats are roaming around town?”
“Perhaps I can help?” Bonnie suggested before grimacing at the possibility of stepping through the entry, large enough for even Darla. She examined the barrier with her wand, probing seemingly random points, eyes narrowed and focused while tapping the barrier. It made soft crystalline notes when she did. “Okay, I see what the problem is. It allows the drain water out. It is coded against Folk species, but apparently, anyone not on that list can come and go.”
“Hmm. We really should call the watch, and do this proper,” Greg mused, hand on his chin. He then glanced at Regis, his face brightening. “Hang on. I do not see signs for no entry allowed. Bonnie, Is it coded against…say, someone who has already expired? With nothing to identify them as a Folk?”
Bonnie tilted her head, and then grinned a few seconds, after tapping the barrier and checking something in a notebook. “Nope. Let's give this a test. Fiona, stand back? Its proximity warded on the gate.”
She took several steps back while Regis reached out a hand to the gate, and the barrier failed to react to his presence. He swung the gate open slowly with a little effort, rusty hinges squeaking in protest. He gave them a bony grin before beckoning them forward.
“Well thought out, Miss Revere,” Regis commended as they worked their way into the depths of the drainage system. The splash of water made her grimace.
“Eww. I should have worn boots today, gross,” she groaned. Meanwhile, Fiona took the lead, and lit up her golden bangle to direct light in a cone ahead of them. Bonnie ignited a flame puff that hovered by her shoulder and followed automatically as they traversed the dark brick cistern system. Debris and garbage occasionally lining the ground. The trickle of water in here was fortunately a reprieve, and stayed in a channel in the center of the passage. Occasional bridges crossed the stream, and Fiona could make out entries up above them with metal ring ladders, anchored into the brick.
“Sheesh. This is well kept,” Fiona commented after a short while. A rather unpleasant odor was becoming apparent as they walked by a machine that apparently gated the stream and split the incoming water from clean-ish water, into very much not clean water and refuse that snaked down another passage. Fiona had no desire to go that direction, and fortunately their path took them in the less odious path, down a side passage, where piping hissed and machinery buzzed distantly. The corridor was narrow, but linear, and the piping ran along the length of the passage.
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“Any idea where we are?” Bonnie asked a moment later, while Greg flipped through his notepad.
“I don't have a clean signal, but I have been noting the turns. We are somewhere near the fishery, the northeast corner. I didn't realize how extensive the service passages were. Old, but well kept.”
“Uh, Greg, any chance we could run into monsters down here?”
“I'm more worried about smugglers. The city of Fiefdala does have an underground element.” He didn't bother to repeat the fact that his father likely drove such activities, under cover of night. Fiona noted occasional footprints in the dust down here–it was significantly drier in this location, compared to the sluice.
All the while, the treasure scent grew stronger. Another metal bar grate with a barred door stood in front of them, though it appeared unlocked. The gate opened with this shifting of dust, and she put a hand to her hammer halt. It always felt reassuring to have it, even with a lack of armor.
The door eased open fully and they were in a large, earthen-carved chamber, spanning at least twenty meters, with rough-hewn rocks and some brickwork shoring up the walls, faded and cracked. Above, a distant spot of light could be seen–the arcane lanterns that adorned the city, especially in the more affluent quarters.
Below them, there was a massive pit, with a spiral staircase carved into the side, descending downward. A dim light was at the bottom, to another connecting passage. More than one door led into this entryway, but they all had barred gates. A scrabble of claws got Fiona's' attention. She swept her gold shine to illuminate a gilded rat, glowing golden and freezing briefly.
She gasped when she saw what was in its jaws. A bracer of complex make with metal backing and runic shapes on the armored portion “Tucker, there's our thief!” The cat growled and coiled up as if ready to pounce, but she patted his head to keep him from attacking. “Hey, mister rat! I got a treat for ya! Tucker, no biting. You see one gilded rat, there's more, and they got sharp teeth.”
Tucker let out a rumble of protest, but relaxed his body as she took the last cookie and knelt low to offer the treat to the rat. It has worked twice now, so, maybe it could be reasoned with.
“Oh hell no, elf,” the rat said in a muffled tone. Everyone stared wildly at the rat, then at each other.
“Who had this on their bingo card?” Fiona asked abstractly.
“What's ‘Bingo’ exactly–”
“Greg? Not important,” Fiona interrupted. “We have talking rats!”
“Yay, act like you're the first to witness this!” The rat snapped and held the bracer tightly in its paws, its legs tensed as if ready to bolt. “How did you even find us?”
“I sniffed you out!” She declared proudly. “By the way, you took something that belongs to you, and I kinda need it back.”
“Nope. Not happening, lady.” The rat glanced down at the pit opening, as if judging the distance. “I owe money. I get transfigured back to my normal, not ratty form when I pay off that shady druid I borrowed money from, and I don't want to be in a constant rat race my whole life.”
“Rat race, haha. Good one,” Regis sounded like a pile of rattling bones, and the rat went wide-eyed at this. “We can pay you for it.”
“We can?” Fiona growled. “It's our stuff! And by proximity, yours, Regis.”
“Hold up, before we get hasty, let's start with names,” Greg said with a disarming wave, and he pocketed his notebook. He adjusted his glasses and peered at the rat. “What's yours?”
“Kae,” he answered. Fiona noted the voice was small, but distinct. “I borrowed some money for uh…some products. I didn't pay it back in time.”
“A rat named Kae?” Bonnie wrinkled her muzzle at this. “Not exactly the main character status there, guy.”
“Hey, we can't all be big shots. Now, who are you guys?”
“Fiona Swiftheart. These are my friends, we run a business,” Fiona explained. The rat's beady eyes went wide.
“Wait. The Hero of Fiefdala?!” He looked like he was going to bug out, but Fiona put out a reassuring hand.
“Yep, the same. Look, I need that bracer. It's important to this guy.”
“What, the dead guy? Sheesh, only on Lost Souls Day. Look I'm kinda busy, and it's worth something to someone. I need it, if I'm gonna get unhexed!”
“Okay guy, I'm gonna give you a chance to do the right thing. That item doesn't belong to you.” She didn't think a hammer was the instrument for this situation. “It's his unfinished business, for his kid. We’ll find another way to get you changed back, or pay the guy off.”
“BUT–”
“But nothing! We’re willing to help, but you need to stop being a sneaky thief!” Fiona interrupted, quickly running out of patience for this guy. “Look at his face! He looks so sad without his family heirloom!”
“He looks dead, and isn't my problem,” Kae sassed back. “Alright, it's been fun, but–”
A piercing roar tore through the still air and everyone let out a startle. The rat panicked and headed down the winding stairwell, only to freeze, and slowly back up. “Big, scary, hungry thing is coming!"
Fiona snapped her hammer into action, tapping the weapon head, while Bonnie prepared a glowing golden chain, and Greg…pulled out his notebook. The thunderous roar continued, and Kae leaped onto Darla's pant leg, scrambling up her shirt to perch in terror on her shoulder, bracer and all.
“Sewer gator!” He shrilled, in his tiny, rat-like voice.
“A what now? It's a myth,” Greg scoffed. The thunderous roar coming up from the depths, and the sound of footsteps and claws scraping against stone and metal would have proved otherwise.
Fiona clicked her hammer into shape, and the now-golden head of the hammer came into existence. Fiona also activated her goldshine to illuminate her mighty weapon, and she grinned enthusiastically. “You know something, Kae? You just made my day!”
A pair of venomous green eyes could be seen in the gloom, climbing up from the depths and dripping from the water of the sewer. More worrying, were the gleaming white teeth on the maw of the ferocious, green-scaled gator. She looked down at the creature and suddenly wondered if they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Because this specimen was over six meters long and had six clawed legs, and a dribble of its saliva made the stonework hiss as a fast-acting acid ate through the masonry.
Bonnie let out a yelp but showed no backing down as she pulled out her wand, glowing bright blue and illuminating the space. “Just this once, I wish the urban legend was just that, a legend!”