image [https://i.imgur.com/WplMndT.jpg]
Fletcher and I picked up some food on our way to the Underworks. We got spiced meat delicacies wrapped in cheesecloth packets that reminded me of fast food. We bought enough for two meals for the entire gang. I also purchased a dozen bottles of ale to wash down the food. Ah, the luxuries of city life!
Waiting for the food and the canal ride back took longer than I wanted, but at least Fletcher knew a shortcut. It reached late afternoon when we arrived at the drainpipe to the Underworks, and I worried Fabulosa would be anxious about our delay. I shouldn’t have—the further we ventured, the more it looked like they cleared the Underworks without us.
We found no signs of them from the exterior drainage pipe to the cistern, so we pressed through a large, ankle-deep pipe half-submerged when we first visited the Underworks entrance.
“Father knows the water levels, assuming he has the latest tidal chart.”
“Is there any chance the tidal chart is wrong?” I didn’t know whether these predictions were wishy-washy, like horoscopes, or based on raw data.
“A day’s forecast? Not a chance. Even apprentice astronomers can forecast a day’s water levels. We need to avoid lunar overlaps—I believe they’re called conjunctions. They’re dangerous.”
We followed a horizontal pipe into an irregularly shaped chamber lit above by barred grates from the sidewalks above.
“I hope they’re waiting in the next section. That’s as far as I want to go without seeing the tidal chart. My father probably knows the spillway patterns by heart, but we’ll need him to avoid fluctuating water levels.”
The Underworks consisted of stone bricks, brass fixtures, iron grates, ceramic pipes, and molds of mixed pinkish minerals, similar to concrete. The smell of chemically treated water reminded me of a chlorinated pool.
Up ahead, I spotted a hairy carcass the size of a big dog. “Dead rat?”
“You would guess so, wouldn’t you? But I’m afraid that’s not a rodent.” Fletcher gave a crooked smile as we approached the body. To my surprise, it wasn’t a rat. It looked to be a feral hog with thick claws instead of hooves. Burn and slash marks across its chest looked like evidence of Shocking Reach and Scorch.
Fletcher looked around to get his bearings. “These are dangerous, living or dead.”
I gave him a questioning look.
Fletcher shook his head. “They’re not safe to eat. And they shouldn’t be this close to the entrance.”
My eyes followed the trail of bodies. “At least we know which direction the others went.”
“I suspected father wouldn’t wait.”
“Don’t blame him. Fab and the dwarves didn’t come here for the nickel tour. I’m just surprised they went this far without Presence. Glow stones don’t provide very much light.”
We wound through a series of ceramic pipes extending from floor to ceiling, some as wide as a car. When we walked across a grated platform supported by patina-tinged fasteners, I tested the grate’s integrity by bouncing, but everything felt firm.
Fletcher and I buffed up with Heavenly Favor to prepare ourselves for combat and Presence to light our progress. I could have cast Mineral Communion to glimpse where the others went, but I didn’t want to waste it this early. Fletcher didn’t look alarmed, and the verdigris covering the metalwork made me doubt I’d get coherent visions from the corroded brass. I had trouble getting readable signals from mixed stone, alloys, and rust.
The walkway branched onto a ledge overlooking a well, disappearing around a corner. Another dead boar marked our companions’ trail like a grisly breadcrumb in a forest of vertical pipes and pressure valves.
Fletcher eyed the stopped-up valves as we passed. “I recall this section being dangerous, so I recommend we make haste. Father might remember when they release, but I don’t know the flooding schedule.”
We splashed through a hallway-sized pipe, soaking my boots to the point where I gave up looking for dry spots and sloshed through puddles. I spotted an arrow scrawled on the wall when the passage split at a junction. We followed it and passed more corpses and intersection markings. In a sizeable barrel-shaped chamber, we counted over a dozen dead pigs.
“What are they doing—a full clear without us?”
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“They’re doing the city quite a service. These swine should be rare. I can’t imagine street urchins running around with them down here.”
Unfortunately, the barrel-shaped room had no markings, but three other tunnels attached to it led in different directions.
“Which way do you suppose?”
“I’ve never been this far without my father. He took me down here when I was a boy, but I don’t remember this.”
“Great. Let’s scout a little down each tunnel. Maybe there are more bodies.”
After a few minutes of exploration, we heard the sounds of combat and hurried toward it.
Fabulosa and the dwarves finished what looked like a fight with half a dozen boars.
I looked at their nameplates. Both dwarves had reached level 10, a four-level gain, and my dear lieutenant governor reached my level—19. Lloyd leaned against a wall and watched.
Name
Graywater Tusker
Level
9
Difficulty
Easy (green)
Health
32/185
Fabulosa flashed me a guilty grin and shrugged after killing their last enemy. “I’m sorry, hon. I couldn’t help myself. We waited a bit, and then a piggie came across our path. After getting a taste, we went deeper. We’ve been killing these for hours. They’re experience piñatas! Even though I’m only getting 8 XP for each, I’m only a few points away from 20.”
I turned to the dwarves. “And you two gained four levels in a day?”
Bernard wiped sweat from his brow. “I was nigh level 7 when we started. We’re not gallus about it. It’s been a pure hard go from the jump.”
Blane looked up at me. “Aye, level 9s are no pushovers.” Both dwarves looked tired.
Fabulosa rested on her heels to do a Rest and Mend. “I wish we had something like this in Belden. Remember the long marches to find a single stomper?”
I remembered hearing them complain about it, but I hadn’t been on a stomper-hunt. For the sake of conversation, I nodded. “Yeah, Belden made for slow-grinding. Around here, monsters are just a short stroll from civilization.”
Lloyd shook his head. “Blimey! Something’s afoul. Monsters used to dwell in the filthy lower bilges, not the upper decks.”
Fabulosa gestured to me. “You see? We should be getting a quest for such an obvious set-up.”
“Maybe we spurned the game’s quest system by going to Hawkhurst.”
“If so, it was worth it. Aggression’s damage bonus is amazing.”
I’d almost forgotten the damage bonus for being inside a foreign settlement.
We passed around the food and ale and ate an early dinner. I told everyone about the magic shop, distributing rings with +10 armor to myself, Fabulosa, and the dwarves. Lloyd would have to stay out of the way, as these days, he served as a tour guide, not a combatant.
I gave Blane my Flying Wall. The pair would be a solid tank unit, with Bernard holding the Prismatic Shield on one side and the Flying Wall floating on the other.
Fabulosa finished her meal, stood, and adjusted the frills on her sleeves. “So, after all this travel, we still don’t have enough intelligence gear for you to make your rune?”
I shook my head. “The ring and the Divine Bow give me 20 more mana. I can get another 100 from a mana potion. We either get drops with +7 intelligence from monsters or hike back here for the major mana potion in another few weeks.”
Fabulosa didn’t seem put off at all by the prospect. “Patch, we want to talk to you about something.”
She, Lloyd, and the dwarves gave me a purposeful stare. “We stopped by the debtor’s prison on the way to the Underworks, and it wasn’t to my liking. They’ve got people locked down into impossible debts at interest rates they’ll never be able to pay off. We don’t want to leave Arlington without them.”
Lloyd nodded in agreement. “It’s worse than I remember. Or maybe I didn’t notice it as a lad.”
I turned to Fabulosa. “What are you thinking?”
Fabulosa cocked her head toward the old sailor. “Lloyd fetched a boat for our return trip. After Winterbyte’s letter, I reckon we’ll leave first thing tomorrow. We could make a getaway on an upriver boat. We passed the debtor’s prison and gave it a quick look around. The conditions made me want to pitch a fit right then and there. Lloyd found a sympathetic captain who agreed to help us smuggle everyone.”
Lloyd reassured me with a wink. “A good man, he was. And he’ll heave to the Underworks exit until the wind picks up. But he’s away at dawn. We could steer the lot of ‘em from the poor house through the Underworks to his vessel. Water obstacles won’t throw off bloodhounds, but we could swim to his flatboat. After we weigh anchor, the trackers will assume we drowned.”
“It sounds like you have it figured out. I assume you don’t plan on paying for their release like you did in Grayton.”
Fabulosa shook her head. “Their indentured servants are worse off. I respect working off a debt, but buying off their debt and not letting them work it off is wrong. Freeing everyone at once might wipe the prison out for good. Hawkhurst is always looking for more people. They join us or return home.”
“How many people are you guys thinking?”
Lloyd lifted his chin and stared me straight in the eye. “The warden said they held 78 prisoners, including whole families.”
Fabulosa held up a palm before I could answer. “We planned to explore the Underworks anyway, and since we’re clearing it, we might as well put our dungeoneering to good use. Lloyd here has a tidal chart, so he knows when and where it’s safe to be in the Underworks. Fugitive trackers will need to get one before going in, and that buys us a little time.”
“Twas another reason for pressing so hard at the piggies.” Bernard thumbed at the nearest corpse. “We’ll need to take ‘em through a right-cleared dungeon. They’ll be skinny as we were when ye freed us from the gobbers.”
I turned to Fletcher. “Does this set Arlington after us? Hawkhurst can’t afford a war with another city—and we’re already messing with their monopoly.”
Fletcher smiled. “You give the city bureaucracy too much credit. We’re far too remote for serious reprisals. We’ll raise the ire from the local debt house, but the city has far bigger fish to fry.”
“Won’t they track us down?”
Lloyd scoffed. “Don’t worry about them looking for us. I’ve a plan to slip us out clean.”
“I like the plan.” I didn’t mind making enemies of slavers, and who could resist a good caper? If Lloyd thought it could work, then we should trust him. In the Underworks, he was the guv.