Chapter 69 – Smot

“Nothing like a giant creature to remind you the undercity isn’t all scat and free cunnings. Should we go around?” I asked.

Annalisa consulted the map and shook her head. “I don’t know it would be any safer. I’m not shy about fighting, you know that. But whatever that was sounded... buggy. Like wings.” she shuddered. “I don’t like bugs! What do you need wings for underground?”

“Nothing good,” I said. I considered and pulled out the scroll of turn monster, just in case. “Ok, look. It’s headed the same direction we are. So we follow, wait for it to do its business, and then get in. The fresher the pile, the less chance someone else already beat us to the punch, yeah? Let’s go. Slow and quiet.”

“Like at the arena when Stormy fought?”

I thought back to Annalisa’s version of a sneak attack. The woman had all the subtlety of a full-scale naval battle. “Decidedly not like at the arena. No portals, and no shouting sneak attack! If it comes at us, we use the scroll and run as fast as we can in the opposite direction.”

Annalisa harrumphed but managed to adopt some modicum of a soft step beside me. She wasn’t cut out for knavery and skullduggery like I was. It didn’t suit her brash, front-facing approach to, well, everything.

We tracked back along the elven wall. Again, I wondered what could be on the other side of it. When we climbed down another level, It was clear the wall extended down at least another level below even that, and occasionally we came across tool-marks where other would-be raiders had failed to penetrate its surface.

I started to smell leavings wafting on the draft again, and something decidedly worse. Something sour and acrid. I stopped Annalisa and dimmed the lanterns to the level of the spongey, luminescent lichen and fungus clinging to the walls and ceilings. Most creatures down in the tunnels could see just fine without lanterns, but they would certainly draw extra unwanted attention to us while lit. Most of them possessed flesh that would burn under the light of the sun, but an adventurer’s lamplight was a comfortable middle ground between true dark and sunlit city that promised a tasty meal if monsters could get past the sharp metal.

The four of dragons offered me a bit of that low-light vision. Unsurprising, as dragons are cave-dwelling creatures that live in perpetual twilight. I pulled the card to my hand, and an amber sheen slid over my eyes. It illuminated further details of the stonework in the tunnel, pits and insects hidden in hollows that I, honestly, was happier not knowing about, and a soft glow from a chamber up ahead. We crept forward to a ledge overlooking the gallery and dropped to our bellies to peek over the edge.

I caught movement to the right. Something large and bulbous, trailing long, insectile legs was dragging itself through a tunnel as diaphanous wings buzzed on its back. I held my breath, but the draft was in our favor—except if you consider having to smell the thing worse than being eaten by it. And with its acrid stench burning my nasal cavity like the spiciest elven curry imaginable, the choice wasn’t as clear cut as you might think. My nose ran like a waterfall and my eyes watered as well.

Actually, this went a long way toward explaining why that adventurer that attacked the Mop had a ring that protected his sinuses. A ring that was presently in my office waiting for a buyer and doing me absolutely zero good in the moment. Go figure.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Gods below,” said Annalisa. She snorted out a wad of phlegm so big that I worried it might gain sapience and crawl off to join the other slimes and sludges down in the undercity. I was equal parts impressed and disgusted by her display. At least I wasn’t alone in my suffering.

I pulled and activated the detect magic scroll, expelling its final charge. The ink on the parchment dulled and lost its luster. But the most fresh-looking pile of scat started to softly glimmer in the gallery.

“Dragons above, looks like we’re in luck,” I murmured. Our gain was likely due to the very recent loss of a delver that had found itself in that thing’s stomach. Coming out on top of a zero-sum game was a bit bittered by the death of the unknown delver. I didn’t really want to think about that as I slid forward and dangled my legs off the ledge into the gallery. Annalisa helped me down before sliding off, herself. This must have been a particularly potent monster, because the ground was soft with overgrown lichen and shrooms that I was careful to avoid. Were certain mushrooms were good for alchemicals and potions? Sure. But they were also potentially packed with toxic spores and I didn’t have the mycology to determine which were which. I assumed nothing glowing would be a boon for my health.

Annalisa followed my direction to the proper pile and handed me my spade. I held my breath and dug into the scat so fresh it hadn’t even had time to gather bugs. Boy, did I undersell this monster when I called it merely potent. I gagged through the cravat and had to step away. I’m not sure any amount of magic items was worth this. I spit to clear my mouth of the oily taste in the air and kept on.

The edge of my spade caught on something in the pile, and I pulled hard. A partial dwarven skeleton dragged out on the end of the spade and I jumped back, dropping the handle.

“Poor bastard,” I said, coming back to myself. I looked closer. “Dragons above, I think this might have been the drakkyn translator that got eaten.”

I briefly wondered why a dwarf had translated for a group of drakkyn while Annalisa put her hands together and said a prayer for the dead.

I looked at her. “What god are you praying to?” I asked.

“Figure old Stoneface is the closest, geographically speaking,” she said. “Seems fitting for a stunter.”

“I suppose he is. Though maybe we should wait until after we desecrate his remains in order to draw a god’s attention?”

“I doubt he’s listening, anyway,” said Annalisa. She gestured to the dwarf by way of argument.

Desecration and blasphemy? I took a large step back from Annalisa. She glared and took a step towards me. I took another step back, which she mirrored, still trying to look angry. I smiled, myself, and started to take one more step back. But she grabbed the front of my jerkin. I looked behind at the pile of monster scat I’d almost tripped into.

“Yikes, thanks Annalisa.”

“I just don’t want to be the only one smited,” she said. And then screwed up her face. “Smote? Smitted? Smoten?”

“Smot,” I said. “Someone who who is smite got smot.”

“They did not!” Annalisa hissed. “You’re such a liar!”

I chuckled underneath my cravat, tilting my head to the unfortunate delver. “He definitely did.”

Annalisa snorted, which turned into a gag as she invited a little too much air into her sinuses.

“Devils and dandelions, Darcent, can we just do this and get out of here, already?

I nodded, still suppressing chuckles. We continued with the shovels, trying to scrape what scat we could off the poor dwarf before we broke out the cleaning powder.

“You know,” I said, “We should definitely bag some of this for Alondalis.”

“Oh, for sure,” said Annalisa. “This is the good stuff. He’s going to shit himself if we don’t.”

I couldn’t help it, I dropped the spade and doubled over laughing, which got Annalisa going.

Sometimes, that’s the only thing you can do at a shitty situation like that.