Gutter Rats
The Watch Camp
The ground was still wet with morning dew as the children marched down the mountain, gathering in a large group before the Watch Camps gates. Four Nests in total had come, Kira’s asking to be excluded as there was much work to be expected from their Guild Masters this day. The Watch guards eyed the group of youths, but otherwise did nothing to engage with them as they assembled waiting for the stragglers.
People streamed past in ones and twos, their number not nearly as great as one would expect for a prepared Harvest. Culus put it down to being early morning with much of the City celebrating the night before. He fully expected the Camp to be in full swing when the sun’s rays came out to warm the mountain path.
Having met up at first light, back at the top of the Ascendant road, Culus had made sure to check everyone had brought along a spare bowl or cup. Tom, Tetsu, Houba, along with their seconds in command had helped tremendously in keeping the exuberant youths under control as they all greeted each other eagerly with chatter down the mountain being incessant. It had been forever since the Nests had joined together for an outing, the risk of unwanted attention being hard to mitigate for such a large group of Coreless.
Most had gone to bed filled with the promises of meat and a hot meal in the morning, that excitement was now threatening to spill over. Culus and the other Nest leaders found themselves repeating the same message over and over. There was no such thing as a free meal. Work was going to have to be done and danger expected in a camp full of Cultivators.
Today’s mission was to bring back as much meat as they possibly could, including that which they could store. Ki meats were notorious for going off quickly, so finding a discarded beast carcass that had no core was paramount. Any small portions of Ki meat they did acquire, were to go directly to those suffering from the shakes.
Arriving first at the gates, the guards raised their faces in challenge at Culus’s approach. Not for his commonly worn conical straw hat which hid his eyes, or the many heavily patchworked drags he wore to conceal himself far above the average shirtless labourer behind him. But that this coreless peasant dare curse out loud before them.
“Shi-baal,” Culus rasped as the ropes swayed gently in the wind. “Back! Davi, change of plan.”
“Change of plan!”
The kids groaned audibly. The thought of a delay to their promised meal due to more instructions was insufferable as scaling the mountain itself. Their Nest leaders shushed them, but Culus could see he was operating on borrowed time. The gutter rats were hungry and even he could smell meat being roasted inside.
With less than half their actual number gathered, the Nests had brought along mostly their oldest and strongest. Others opting to stay behind and help tend to the little ones as well as their sick friends. After a quick head count, Culus had them form up into groups of no larger than thirty. Completely abandoning the idea, they go about looking for work in pairs.
Of those gathered, only the Runner clan fielded two groups. The rest however had number enough to form another, bringing their total to six groups. It was with a shriek and cry of alarm that Culus knew his time was up.
“Dammit Houba! Get her back in her group. Everyone! Stay in your groups."
It did little to help as curious members of the clans peeked forward to see what had upset one of their own. Culus relented, hoping they would understand the danger more clearly now. Seeing multiple dangling corpses at the end of a rope usually had that effect.
“Alright, Listen up!” Culus boomed out loud, quieting the frightened children. The only rule for today. DO NOT SPLIT UP!
A concerned mutter filtered through the youths, allowing Culus to lower his voice.
“Good, if you’re frightened, that means you’re finally thinking with your head and not your belly. If you’re too frightened, now’s your last chance to turn back.”
Although some did glance fretfully back up the mountain, none seemed to think the climb was worth it. Not without their promised meals, they had come too far.
“This is the Watch camp. Not only is it filled with Cultivators who do as they please, but there are also crueler people about who make this camp their source of revenue. You’re nothing but money to them and they will disappear you. You know what the Watch is like and you know they care nothing for Coreless peasants. Do not ask them for help, even if you need it. They might very well kill you themselves because you bowed wrong.”
“Group leaders! Make sure everyone stays together. It’s everyone’s responsibility that we all come back safe, but you guys can count. Get in. See what jobs are on the board and follow the arrows. Keep your task Chits safe. If you lose those and there’s no food or payment.”
"What if they try to split us up?" Someone called out.
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“If they try to split you up, shout out loud immediately. Everyone stop what you are doing and go help. The only job that you absolutely must not do is the cleaning of pelts. They have lime buckets that will peel the skin off your arms. Don’t worry, lesser guildsman Cultivators and Seeded usually fill it up."
He left out the part of it being slightly better pay, due in part to the corrosiveness of the Lime. The last thing he wanted was a member of the group to try their luck because they got greedy.
"I know I said it earlier but I'm saying it again. No cussing, spitting or fighting with the other laborers. I need every Leader to make sure the girls have at least six roast Java beans.”
The idea had been Juri’s after witnessing washer women use them to dye their clothes black. When chewed on they tasted foul but were ultimately harmless, if not bitter. However, they still caused one's mouth to blacken somewhat frightfully and gave the breath the repugnant stink of Lepra Flower.
Few things were a turn-off for vile would-be-rapists, but a Lepra addict was definitely top amongst that number. Expecting a helpless victim, only to have the girl turn around and smile a crazed rot-toothed Lepratic’s grin, had a serious douring effect. Most had their sensibilities suddenly returned to them as they turned tail and fled. The beans were to be used as a last resort.
“Okay. Can we go now?” A voice called, causing Culus to cut it short with the Leaders.
“Lastly, the food!”
Everyone fell silent with eager anticipation. This was all about the food for them.
“There is going to be large stew pots at each of the workstations. Eat as much as you can before you start work, the food should have a near instant effect on you before you finish your bowls. You're going to be stronger, faster and fitter, but only temporarily. If you feel the effect wearing off you can always ask for more. Don't throw up! You will need to show your work chits when you go to get the food, every time. Don't worry you're allowed to eat as much as you want, but remember to be polite to the cooks. They are going to be tossing aside whole chunks of meat. We want that, take as much as you’re allowed.”
“They gonna laugh at you and say things like bad grade or zero grade Ki meat, but that’s fine. It keeps much longer than Ki meats and we can dry it with salt for later use.”
Some of the kids looked at Culus like he was a madman who had sprouted horns. He realised his mistake.
“Obviously not Red Salt guys. None of you are going to explode eating cured meats. Right! Lets go! And so help me, If I see you guys splitting up… dammit”
The groups surged ahead as soon as he uttered the words. He could only shake his head at their eagerness. Still, he was happy that they would finally be having a vital source of nourishment and thought about making it a regular excursion each time there was a Wave. But there was always a problem with regular outings, sooner or later someone would figure out they were homeless and that would just see them all rounded up. No these outings had to be rare, at the very least in much smaller groups.
He hadn't been down here for over a year and was concerned for their safety, watching their eagerness tempered quickly under the stern warning of the Guards for theft. As if the hanging bodies above the gate were not enough.
Juri walked up beside him, sharing in the grim vigil.
“How are you going to get raw meat past those guards, let alone the spare bowls of stew.”
"All laborers are allowed to take home a single cooked meal to share with their families. Honestly, I think they do it to help prevent the theft of more valuable items from the harvest if your hands are already full on your way out. Trust me, it can be a pain." Culus chuckled. "Besides, it’s very demeaning for a Cultivator to have to search every peasant on their way out.
"It’s quite clever really. They come across as charitable, but you’ll find that the meat we get has little to no value during these harvests. The top-quality Ki meats are taken to another section of the camp, a cleaner section where we are forbidden. from the skinned piles and under constant guard. I’ve never been stopped from taking a portion, so long as it came out of the skinned piles around the tanneries. It’s like we’re cleaning up for them, but the sights not pretty.
Worse I’ve seen them throwing wagon loads of the raw meat into the swamp pools. The fish thrash madly on the surface for it before something big swooshes right through them. The Watch Patrols try bagging those ones. You wouldn’t believe the creatures they pull out, monsters.
Juri guffawed, “and you’re sending me out there?”
No.
But you said…
“I know what I said Juri, but let’s be honest with each other. The dead people up there change everything. Listen to how quiet that camp is. Something is wrong here and I don’t think tomorrow will be any better."
Juri turned to look at Culus with a controlled face but dead eyes. Clearly, he was still dealing with his hurt.
“Please, Juri. We need to show unity today, especially here.”
Culus pointed at the gently swaying bodies.
Juri frowned, clearly warring with himself, but looked anyway,
“Dead people. So what? This is Qaelang. There is no shortage of corpses.”
“Look closer. Those dead still have their boots on. The only reason they look like us, is because their armour has been stripped from them. You’re not looking at peasants Juri. Those men are Cultivators.”
The youths that had remained, all of the Runner clan, instantly made the sign of Giver at hearing what Culus said. Some few even ogled the corpses more intensely before Juri barked at them to not make a scene.
“ You think they'll leave them up long enough to turn?"
"I don't know Juri. I've never known the Watch to do this to their own and I don't want to get close enough to read those notices on the posts."
"Dammit. Alright Culus, you’re not wrong… in this regard. What do you suggest.”
Culus gave a rare smile. On anyone else that reply might come off as sulky, but from Juri it was nothing short of a resounding endorsement. He’d take it.
“Tonight any dead not collected from this Wave will start to rise. See those banners, the long weird narrow ones. Those are from the Monasteries.”
“I see them. Quite a few actually.”
“Exactly. It looks like all the Monasteries are down here. I've never seen so many.”
Juri frowned with concern. The Monasteries were mythic, with a lot of strange lore to them. Reclusive Sects that operated differently from the larger mainstream ones, more devoted to spiritual causes than war but were all ultimately responsible for the dead. If the Monks had come down from their peaks in such numbers, it implied there was much for them to do.
“Have they come for the food too?” Davi piped up, causing Culus to snort humorously.
With a roll of his eyes, Juri responded. “Davi, monks don’t eat meat. They deal with the dead... and the undead.”
“Whaaat?" Davi replied disbelieving. "That’s just a silly superstition. Monks guide people back to the eternal cycle.”
His was not the only doubting face of the gathered kids.
“Sometimes that requires the point of a sword. We don’t see it much, because the corpse collectors are very efficient within the City walls but out here in the swamps. Things are different. The last thing anyone wants to do is take on a Spirit. You need top-level Cultivators for that or Monks.”
“Are you serious?”
“He is,” interjected Culus. “It only takes one Spirit Beast to cause untold havoc, if you’re to believe the legends. They say the Tretick Forest is filled with Spirit Beasts as if the trees weren't bad enough."
“Back on point though, my suggestion is we pull a morning and afternoon shift only. Get our fill, then head out to collect firewood as a whole group. By that time the Monks should have cleared an area and as a large group we shouldn’t have hassles from others trying to steal our wood.”
“It might be better if we send half our number back with the food, before we collect firewood.” Replied Juri. “I don’t imagine anything good coming from us carrying cooked meals or raw meat around the swamp.”
“Fair point, Juri. Let’s go get some food. Today is going to be some of the most honest work you lot have ever done in your lives.”
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