It was early evening in Gourhurst’s darkest and dirtiest of cities. A thick cloud of smoke decorated the gray sky, interrupted only by craggy mountains that ascended among the stars. Corpse carts of various sizes went in search of the dearly departed. Away from the sun’s hateful gaze ravenous crabs feasted, baby hydras wailed, and wights clamored to get to work.

Gresham meandered through the cobbled streets, moving from one sputtering torchlight to another, and reached a long and exceedingly thin bridge. No regular bridge should be that narrow, he thought. It seemed ready to collapse at any moment, but the eight-legged tenants who resided just underneath were adamant towards its integrity. Their webs were stronger than steel, he’d been told. So build a slight arch over the murky waters, they’d said, slap it together with a copious helping of arachnid glue, and make it clear to everyone walking atop that this bridge wasn’t the kind to panic and buckle at the sheer thought of a few excessive pounds.

He peered down at a handful of figures at the edge of the stream embankment. A quick report of hand on web startled one of the men, who cast a sole suspicious eye up.

“Gresham, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Angler One-Eye.”

“Did you bring the essentials?”

Gresham pulled out a series of wriggling worms from his pack. “Directly from the finest potting soil in town,” he said.

“Fine work, Gresham.”

“No problem at all, Angler.” Gresham grabbed hold of the ladder leading down to the stream’s bank.

“Leave off the fish for a moment gentlemen,” One-Eye called. “Seems the new recruit has passed the first Stage.”

“You had him at delivery work?” said Tannen. “I nearly died! That crypt you sent me to was far from deserted.”

“Change of the times, I’m afraid,” One-Eye lamented. “Interested prospects aren’t as numerous these days.”

“It’s the crones,” said Laurence, shaking his head. “Only last week, down by Which Witch, they had a line going straight out the door.”

“And the laborers, surely. Get wages like you wouldn’t believe,” One-Eye continued. “Wasn’t long ago we were a respected profession, when food was scarce and a man’s skill with a rod was justly rewarded.”

Gresham accepted one of the rods from Laurence, delicately placing a worm at the line’s end. “You don’t think the blight had something to do with that?”

One-Eye scowled, looking out at the fast-flowing water. “A little contamination never hurt anybody, present company excluded of course.”

“Oh, yes,” said Laurence heavily. “That’s the main thing, that.”

“Was hard enough to find work before, when humans like us were all there was to see. Now look at the city! Can’t go five yards without running into a ghoul or harpy,” said Tannen sharply.

“Quite so. Only last week, down by the Carpenter Corner, we got another influx of minotaurs.” Laurence said, setting his own hook with bait.

“Yeah. They do that you know,” said One-Eye knowledgeably. “Happens all the time. One of us gets the boot, and they take our place. Before you know it we’re on the streets, cleaning the filth to feed the children.”

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“And what do we get in return?” said Tannen angrily. “A hastily written letter, that’s what. Gratitude for our years of service or some such.”

“It’s a shame, it is. Are you still employed then Gresham?” said Laurence.

“Been with the messengers for quite some time-” Gresham began.

Laurence’s mouth dropped open. “Under Sally Shades?” he wheezed. “You’re working with her?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Every evening?”

“Some mornings too, not that you could ever tell the difference.”

“And you’ve come here just to fish?”

Gresham frowned. “Haven’t you? Angler said this was a prime location.”

Laurence sighed. Then he grunted, dropping his rod and turning a questioning gaze to One-Eye.

“What have you reeled in this time?”

One-Eye grinned, rubbing his bald pate thoughtfully. “A fine catch, by the answer he just gave.”

“Look,” said Gresham, thoroughly lost, “I came because you said you were looking for another member, fishing in company and all that. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“More or less,” One-Eye said. “These tools, this location, it’s all just a front for something bigger.”

“What, like sharks?”

One-Eye nodded. “In due time of course. But this is something altogether more...rebellious.”

“You’re suggesting a revol-” Gresham began.

Tannen shot his hand out, curling a slim fist over Gresham’s mouth. “Not out loud, you dolt!”

One-Eye darted his eyes around the vicinity. “Even this place isn’t safe. They have mimics all across the city. Could be resting away and not even realize your mattress was contemplating another meal.”

“Crafty little lookouts, them,” added Laurence.

Gresham could only stare in disbelief. He’d come here at the behest of One-Eye, only to be asked to help in a ploy that would surely get them all killed. A bunch of hopefuls no other sane individual would touch with a ten-foot pole.

But their plan had merit, nevertheless. And, Gresham couldn’t deny, a chance to get out from under his employer’s thumb was too good to pass up. He’d take the bad with the good; after all, what more could he lose than another trip down the River?

“I assume you have a method to this madness?” he said.

“We certainly do!” said Laurence vehemently. “Only yesterday, over by the River’s head, Kyra made her appearance.”

Gresham leaned closer. “You’re on a first-name basis with her?”

“It beats the alternative, let me tell you. I swear she designed the title to be as baffling as her appearance,” said One-Eye.

“And how many was she transporting?” Gresham asked.

“Just one. In our care at the moment, but that’s besides the point,” said One-Eye eagerly. “I didn’t believe it until I saw him with my own eye, but the man’s a blank slate.”

Gresham felt his mouth drop open. That, well, it was…

“Impossible, right? I had the same gaping look when I heard the news,” Tannen remarked. “It’s the damnedest thing, and we’ve seen enough of the damned to fill up a few monster manuals.”

“That blank slate aside, what the hell do I have to do with your...amiable deed?” Gresham said.

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then a general nodding of heads from the other three.

“We-ll,” One-Eye said. “We need you to reach out to some of our bipedal associates. With your boss, nobody will look twice at an outgoing message.”

“This is going to get out of hand, isn’t it?” said Gresham.

“Undoubtedly. But I assure you, Gresham, that this new arrival to Gourhurst will be the key to taking back what’s ours,” said One-Eye smoothly.

“And I bet this strange figure doesn’t have a name either,” Gresham muttered.

“Actually,” Laurence said, “he was able to utter a few coherent words before passing out at the sight of an ooze ingurgitating its recent meal.”

“Our ace in the hole goes by the name Raine."