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The Metier Apocalypse [An Apocalyptic LitRPG Adventure]
B6 - Chapter 8 Part 2 - Interlude: A Druid and a Demoness Walk Into A Bar

B6 - Chapter 8 Part 2 - Interlude: A Druid and a Demoness Walk Into A Bar

"As I am sure you fellows are quite familiar with who I am, I will not belabor the point. We seek information. So that you are not under any delusions, you will be processed by the Cloth Judges and subject to Zebelos rulings. However, should you wish to ever see anything other than a dark cube perfectly constructed to counter your magical gifts I would suggest you open your mouths and spill."

"Let's just say I'm glad you are on our side," Sam sent via the comm-plant. He noticed the slightest quirk at the edge of her mouth before it returned to a flat line. When none of the captured men spoke, she raised a single eyebrow and the first to surrender, a mangy looking satyr, stammered out that they weren't sure what they needed to spill.

"The Air Tendril," Sam said, crouching so he could meet the satyr's eyes. The horizontal pupils were looking anywhere but at Samuel's hard gaze. It was usually Ron's skill set to intimidate, but snapping who the Druid assumed was their boss in half was all the intimidation he needed. "We know he had a tattoo for this place. If I don't miss my mark, that's one there poking through your shirt, and the sleeve of the orcish friend beside you, that looks suspiciously similar. Who was he and why did hangover there attack the moment we brought him up?"

Samuel casually pointed over their heads to where he'd deposited the Ethanol Tendril. None looked, but he knew they got the point.

"T-T-There's a connection to the underground here," the satyr stammered. "I swear, we were just muscle we don't know what was in the crates!"

"What crates?"

The satyr turned, pointing towards the where the bartender had entered. As soon as Sam looked away, one of the bound orcs decided it was a good idea to self combust. The fire burned away April's spores, but it didn't stop there as the heat continued to build and the other prisoners started trying to get away from the man. Fear was plain in their eyes.

"," Sam said, unflinching against the sudden heat as the orc also transformed into a Tendril on the spot. The very wood of the bar came alive, the countertop stretching over the orc before encasing entirely. Smoke curled through the gaps in the wood, but when the Tendril detonated himself all it resulted in was a muffled thud against the choking hold of Samuel's magic.

Now done with the sporadic threats, Samuel pulled the Femur Club from his back and strode forward with a grim expression. "The next person to try that gets all of you killed in a way that would make burning alive would feel comfortable. I don't relish taking lives, but you lot have already cost several and I like my scales balanced. Now are we clear?"

One of the men straight fainted and another two lost control of the bowels.

"Anubis would smile at your very declaration," April said, a cheery smile blooming on her face. Sam almost did a double take at how dazzling her teeth looked and just how sharp her canines were, before he regained his composure and remembered he was threatening information out of a bunch of what he assumed were gangsters.

"N-no tricks. J-J-Just crates, sir," the satyr said, shaking the whole while.

"Come on, up then," Sam said, rising to his feet. "You have the pleasure of leading me to these crates."

The satyr didn't complain, and even if he took a few seconds to get his hooves under him the trip to the backroom was quick. It was nothing impressive. Another door on the opposite side of the room led to the back of the pre-Fall establishment and there were a number of kegs and barrels stacked up high against the wall. The most curious things were the metal banded crates on what was the other side of the liquors display of the bar, and the trapdoor that led underground.

Magic held tightly at the ready, Samuel pulled the trapdoor open, recoiling as the familiar smell that had assaulted his nose upon entering the bar grew stronger. Discreetly, Sam tossed an acorn into the opening when he glanced inside and started to grow a probing root down into the hidden cellar. He let the heavy trapdoor fall and reached out to an individual he always knew was listening through the comm-plant. "Hey Devon, think you can get a hold of some Cloth Muscles? I think we might be walking into a political landmine."

"And here I thought only the muscle head could cause diplomatic chaos," the snarky response came through the Implant. "Give me five and I'll peel off Daniela. She's not liking having an actual boss and I'd rather not be collateral when she inevitably takes over this joint."

"She can't ever sit still, can she?" Sam said, more to himself, but earned a chuckle from the elf.

"Wouldn't be the Torch if all she did was smolder!" The connection cut out, and Sam stood to glance at the satyr. He was cowering suspiciously by the door, but after the show the Druid had put on it made total sense.

"Let's get the party back together," Sam said, contacting April at the same time. "Some reinforcements should be on the way soon."

"Good. None of these know anything else. Likely, the suicide bomber and that bar man were the true links to whatever the victim was involved with."

"See if you can get delivery locations for these crates," Sam added through the comm-plant, glancing at the shivering satyr before continuing aloud. "Go back to the others. You will be taken into custody soon. If you behave, then I won't need to keep threatening anyone."

"Yes sir, of course sir." The man nodded so fast, the whole time until he walked back into the main bar.

Sam glanced at the Party display and saw April and the captured patrons were firmly in place before turning to the crates. He wasn't sure what he expected considering the mess the situation had been, but simple booze bottles wasn't it. The crate he opened held four pristine bottles cushioned by pulped paper scraps. An amber colored brew shone in his hand as he held the bottle up to the light sneaking into the backroom. The depth of his frown grew as Sam opened more and more of the crates only to discover a well stocked selection of alcohol instead of anything particularly suspicious.

April walked into the backroom, letting Sam know that the team of Cloth Muscles had taken possession of the prisoners. They'd given her a series of -- Sam couldn't believe he was using the term seriously-- dead drops for the crates. She'd tasked one of the Cloth Muscles with getting them mapped out, but Samuel just pushed past that. Since Ron convinced the Entities to include the map features to the LPS they would be able to do that themselves once they visited the locations. Considering how many questions they had, it was inevitable that they would go visit them for further clues.

"Is there some kind of prohibition movement in Ocala?" Sam asked, juggling a pair of beer bottles in his deft hands.

"I'm not familiar with that term. You likely don't mean the literal definition," April said, casing a pair of short stout jugs that took up a whole crate by themselves.

"A ban on alcohol of some sort, where you or the police made it illegal," Sam explained, setting the beer back down.

"No, even before I was born it was always seen as a boon actually. Many people suffered from the Haze early on. When humanity's will was tested, some souls were not up to snuff and simply checked out. A shame, really. More abled bodies would have made the carnage that followed the Fall all the more grand."

"Right..." Sam coughed to clear his throat, pivoting to look at the demoness. His cloak of vines nudged the bottle enough that it fell to the ground, shattering easily. "Ah crud. I don't think I should be dropping the eviden--"

The Druid's pupils dilated. Sam's nerve filaments probed the air, seeking out the sudden burst of scent and magic that had been released by the booze. His Cognitive Filter and its Cranial Myelin worked in tandem perfectly until the memory tied to the scent practically replayed itself in his mind. It was the smell of a room in disorder, where a madman had betrayed his humanity in a misguided attempt to acquire a semblance of order to an Attuned Earth. It was the smell of a crow with a corrupted Infusion.

"Dreg," Sam hissed, taking a step back from the spill.

"It is quite foul, but I don't see why--"

"They are mixed in there somehow. This may have even been touched by the Aberrants themselves," Samuel said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the half dozen crates. Without fanfare, he plucked one of the first bottles from a separate crate and popped the top. Even stronger than the beer, the bottle labeled as rum stung profusely on his senses. Just to confirm for himself, Samuel channeled the spell chain for around his hand.

While nowhere near as strong a distortion as what that first corrupted Infusion had created, the edges of his Skill's glyphs were distinctly fuzzy compared to the level of crisp he'd honed them with his various magical experiments and training. Sam's eyes drifted to the trapdoor, feeling the first fifty feet were clear through his connection to the vine and root system expanding along with each drop of mana he regenerated. It was a five foot passage that inclined into the ground sharply compared to the ones he'd been in with the Zebelos.

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"We need to go in there," the Druid said, wiping his hands on the pulp packing as if that could clear the stain of just touching the brews.

"As willing as I am to swan dive into the tender embrace of the end, it would behoove me to ask why. There is another team on its way," April asked evenly. The woman had either recovered her cuffs or restocked from the team that arrived, and was once again bedazzled in the things. Her posture was firm, as were her eyes, so Sam took what she'd said at face value.

"It would be foolish to believe that they haven't heard what we did here. Possible, but not certain. If this stuff is what I think it is, then we need to nip it in the bud. I'll need to run some tests, but I think that Crafter's Mania you guys were worried about is a bit more insidious than just a state of hyper focus."

The demoness' eyes narrowed, the red of her eyes replaced by the black that matched her pupils when she cast magic. "Let's not drag our feet then."

Without waiting for Sam, April threw the trapdoor open and jumped down. She was petite compared to the blonde, but she was forced to crouch lower thanks to her horns. As Sam took the ladder rungs down, he focused on his probing vine. The magically grown plant formed an archway from floor to ceiling and Sam focused some of his magic on reinforcing the root system into the walls of the clearly mana-formed tunnel.

April pulled two metal cylinders from a holster on her back, passing Sam one before twisting her own and washing the tunnel in soft yellow light. The slime residue flowed like oil in water within the canister as Samuel stared at the impromptu lantern.

"While I can see in the dark, I don't relish the thought of my companions impaired," April said. She twisted the cylinder one more time and the sides of the cylinder closed off while the flat tip opened, turning the device into a flashlight. "Leave yours in lantern mode. I'll take point."

"Denied," Sam said, striding forward and setting his own slime tube into a flashlight. "I have a Level on you, plus armor."

April looked like she wanted to argue, but relented by setting her own light back to a lantern. When the demoness took a crouched step to the side, Samuel breathed deeply and set forward. The foul smell of Dreg was in the air and the faint column of light behind them grew fainter as they went deeper and the angle eventually took it out of sight. With the help of his mind enhancing Traits, Samuel kept an eye on the LPS map, April's location, his vine cloak and the state of his mana. Not to mention being at the front, fingers clasped tightly around the Femur Club. Yeah, Ron can keep this shitty job.

It was several minutes of tense silence before the slope of the tunnel evened out a good quarter mile away from the actual Jade Lounge. Unfortunately, his depth meter giant of a friend was not with him, so Sam could only speculate as to how deep they were. What he was surprised about was the fact that there was a gentle breeze the further they moved, likely preventing them from suffocating. He wasn't too familiar with the concept of spelunking, but he knew the farther from the source of air the more likely you were to die. Thankfully, the Implants would warn of that development, but it was another thing Sam kept an eye on.

When the quiet of the tunnel and their steps was underlined by the sound of running water, the Druid tensed. He tabbed over to the comm-plant, seeking to remain quiet still. "Can you hear that?"

"No, but your senses are better. What is it?" April replied.

"Water. But I figured we would be below the water table by now," Sam said, eyeing the walls suspiciously.

"Hmmmm, the tunnels under the city have caused a number of sinkholes over the years. Perhaps this is one of those situations; the outer bands of the hurricane are coming down outside even if not in full yet."

Samuel groaned, exclusively out of his depth but unwilling to back off. The Druid pulled out another handful of acorns, laying them on the ground and setting up another archway in the tunnel which would hopefully keep the roof from collapsing on their heads if nature had its way. Now more tense than ever, the two of them continued forward while the idea of tons of water flattening him like a pancake ran circles through Sam's head. That April tended to be as silent as a grave didn't help; banter had a place in tense situations!

Before long, the undertone of water became a quiet roar and the smooth finish of the walls looked decidedly pockmarked. When drops started to seep through the stone above them, Sam was ready to call it. There had been no branches, no footprints and no scents other than the pervasive stench of Dreg and humidity as the sound of water got closer. Of course, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the tunnel split. The right seemed to be more of the same eroded mana-formed material while the left almost looked like a natural crevice in the stone if not for seams of clearly augmented stone.

"Ron is not going to like this," Sam said to April.

"Oh? I would have assumed stone work would be to his liking."

"This doesn't look remotely properly supported and is likely the place we need to explore." His knuckles were white and he blinked in frustration when water once more dripped from above.

April glanced between the two fork openings and nodded. "Agreed. No path worth following is without tribulation."

It took everything Sam had not to sigh. Instead, he closed his slime light and prepared to move forward by feel. When April mimicked his move and the tunnel was plunged into darkness all Sam could do was groan. The tunnel hadn't been plunged into total darkness. There was a faint light coming from the direction of the crevice. I need to bring Raymond up here. I am tired of not being able to bash my way through situations if Danny or Ron aren't here.

Despite his misgivings, Sam wasn't one to hesitate. The bark bracer around his arm itched as he brought it to life with his magic and his cloak probed at the walls to keep him centered. April had no problem keeping up thanks to her Traits.

As the light grew brighter, the smell of Dreg grew strong enough to send goosebumps along his skin. The movement of his cloak became a shade slower than he knew it should have been and the draw on his mana increased to just beyond his regeneration the deeper they went. April finally noted the external effect, both praising and admonishing it for how insidiously it operated. When the path opened quickly, Sam halted and used his vines to move him forward in the hopes of being as quiet as possible. What he saw was both horrifying and awe-inspiring.

A vertical column of water flowed from the ceiling into a pool at the center of a mostly natural cavern. Seams of mana-formed stone webbed the ceiling of the cavern, likely holding the entire thing together, even as crystal protrusions provided an eye searing white luminescence that seemed to be magnified by the smooth surface of the water. Suspended in the water with the help of a stone platform was a mesh absolutely riddled with Infusions of all the Attunements. The rainbow sparkle of their contained energies seemed muted even through the clear water.

With the strange contraption so prominently in the middle of the cavern, Samuel almost missed the rest of the operation taking place within. A half dozen tendrils seemed to be carting Infusions out of the pool, to a steaming pot where a hunched Water Tendril used their magic to funnel the liquid into what Sam could only guess was a distillery drum of some sort. Identical crates to the ones in the Jade Lounge were stacked behind the drum. Once all the fluid was transferred, they scooped out the Infusions and passed them along to another Tendril. Before placing them back in the mesh, one of the Tendrils brought the sieve they'd used to another huddled against the wall. The clink of chains caused Sam to tense even as he spotted the bindings on the Tendril against the wall, similarly matched by another not far from them.

The chained Fire Tendril held their hands over the sieve, dousing the Infusions with burning mana until they stumbled back against the wall, shivering. The slate-grey Tendril holding the sieve took a moment to inspect the results before replacing the Infusions in the water column. This repeated twice more before Sam had seen enough and he retreated back to April.

"This is definitely where the alcohol is being tainted," Sam sent through the comm-plant, explaining what he'd seen. The whole process left a massive lump in his stomach because he could recognize the idea of what he was seeing. It wasn't too far from how he'd managed to process Life Attuned berries into a shoehorned Health potion. Instead of enhancing the effects by applying the Infusion, they were using them to steep conflicting mana. It went one step beyond that, as they were clearly making an adhoc mix without an intended purpose other than chaotic energies. The puzzle pieces fit in Sam's head with terrifying quickness.

"How many people are high level in Ocala would you say?" Sam asked, dropping a pair of acorns on the ground. He tried to reach out to Devon or anyone else that might be nearby but they'd gone much further than they'd expected. Even the connection between the Druid and April was somewhat tenuous, likely because of the waves of energy concentrated in the cavern.

"Not many, really. Most stay within the city boundaries and practice the essence shedding like Ponzio and I," April clarified, her tone serious with little hint of her melodrama.

"Shit, that probably makes it even more likely that this takes effect," Sam cursed. The acorns crawled forward toward the Tendril's operations. When one of the roots reached the pool at the base of the cavern the plant flesh immediately started to grow knobby and warped outside of Samuel's control. With a grunt, he severed the segment and watched from the crevice as the root segment squirmed for a few more seconds before turning into a petrified husk. "That water is also bad news. This whole thing is probably connected to the city's water supply."

"How could this go unnoticed for so long..." April said, her face contorted into a scowl. Her horns started to mist until Sam called attention to it and she got herself under control.

"The Mania, it's probably people slowly being overwhelmed by Dreg except they don't shed it like normal. Oh this is bad. This is worse than what we expected! They are trying to convert the whole damn city with no one being the wiser!" Sam took a few deep breaths, doing his best not to freak out audibly. He sent a silent thank you to the Entities for the tactical advantage that the comm-plant provided, even if Ronan ignored it about as often as he leveraged it. It was a goddamn godsend for stealth missions.

"What is our recourse?" April said, turning to glance at Samuel.

"We are going to blow the shit out of this place," Sam said without hesitation. He only wished he had a pendulum cannon to shove down the Tendril's throats. No. It's not that simple. The Air Tendril knew what was going on here and risked his life to tell us. You don't chain your workforce unless they aren't complacent and one doesn't find themselves in an underground cavern almost a mile from the surface without some level of coercion.

Despite how much prisoners complicated a potential engagement -- especially since the Druid was too far to get a read on the Levels of the individuals-- he felt confident they could make it happen. He wasn't usually the one with the crazy ideas, but the element of surprise certainly presented some.

"This is what we are going to do..."