Bernt was still cramming the last bits of soggy, soup-drenched bread into his mouth when they arrived at the breach. Uh. Former breach. Sometime in the past week, the place had been transformed – probably by Kustov or maybe even Janus. It was a lot of stonework.
What had previously been little more than a sloped hole in the street, leading down to a tunnel that had been torn into the sewers below, was now a semi-circular set of broad steps that led down to an imposing-looking stone archway. It was set directly under the city wall, giving people entering the Undercity the sense that they were walking into a cliff-face. There was no sign left of any sewer access. Alongside the wall on either side were gently-sloped ramps to allow for the passage of modestly-sized carts.
The houses across the street had been torn down, the rubble removed, and the earth beneath paved over with smooth, magically shaped sandstone to create a small plaza – and to ensure there would be enough space for traffic to pass by, Bernt assumed.
On one side at street-level stood the stone shell of a new guard station.
They were still a little early, but Bernt already knew they weren’t the first ones there. Kustov was sitting in the doorway of the guard station, sipping from a bottle. He sat across from Jori, who was entertaining Gnugg and Trip by cramming an entire spicy cabbage roll into her mouth as they cheered her on.
A moment later, Jori saw them coming and waved, and the others turned to look.
“Is it safe to just have your demon interact freely with children like that?” Josie asked, speaking quietly so they wouldn’t hear.
Bernt supposed she must not know how a mage’s familiar bond worked. Jori could hear everything he did when they were this close together, as long as she chose to spare any attention for it.
He shrugged. “Jori’s been looking out for Gnugg since before he even got here. I don’t think there’s anyone he feels safer around. She’s gotten pretty attached to them both and she sees them as her responsibility. I think it’s good for her.”
Josie looked at him strangely, but then just shook her head and waved back to the group as they reached them.
Kustov nodded at the humans and offered them the bottle, Josie first. She declined with a polite shake of her head and he held it out to Bernt. He accepted and took a sip.
It was not water.
“This place looks great!” Bernt wheezed, coughing as his eyes teared up. “Is it all your work?”
Kustov nodded proudly, graciously ignoring Bernt’s sputtering. Dwarves normally considered it rude to pull a face or cough when drinking – it implied that the host had offered a beverage of inferior quality. But dwarven spirits also weren’t really meant for human consumption.
“Welcome to the new Undercity Gate! It’s not half done yet, but it’s good enough to be put to use. The rest can wait until we’ve got people moved in down below. We got a few other geomancers to help out down there, including a few of the military’s engineering corps. It’s just about ready.”
Bernt whistled, impressed. “I can’t believe you managed to do so much so quickly. How do you keep yourself from burning out?”
“I am a stoneweaver, boy,” the dwarf scoffed. “This is what I do. If you had the right augmentation, you could do the same easily enough.”
Bernt huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Kustov wasn’t just incredibly powerful for a magister, he was clearly a skilled engineer. Just building a plaza that would properly drain water during a rainstorm was an engineering challenge. Rearranging a sewer system to make space for this new bit of city architecture without collapsing the buildings that were built right on top of it was something else entirely. But the dwarf had done it, somehow. If he hadn’t, the streets near here would already be bathed in raw sewage.
“I’m serious.” Kustov said, seeing his face. “You just have the one investiture for now, but I’m sure you’ve noticed the difference already. Each one will reinforce your mana network a little further. Finishing your augmentation will make an even bigger difference. You’ll be using fire, sure, but you’ll surprise yourself with what a difference it makes.”
“Alright. I guess I’ll find out.” Bernt allowed. He did want to finish his augmentation, though his heart sank at the reminder of what he’d need for his second investiture. “Eventually, anyway,” he added gloomily.
“Why?” Kustov asked, peering at him. “There’s no sense in waiting too long, so long as you can afford the materials and you’re well-practiced enough to get it done right. The sooner you can practice with the full augmentation the better.”
Josie was listening to the conversation curiously. Bernt supposed she wouldn’t know very much about mage advancement. The basics weren’t much of a secret, but someone who wasn’t born with the talent to become a mage would have no reason to learn about it.
“It’s the second investiture,” he explained. “I have to get my hands on a perpetual flame.”
“Ah” Kustov said, wincing slightly. “Yes, that might not be quite so easy.”
Perpetual flames sustained themselves on ambient mana, never going out unless deliberately extinguished. What made them so dangerous was that, if you let them, they consumed magic of all kinds – including things like enchanted armor or shield spells. Or mages. Needless to say, perpetual flames were tightly controlled and almost never propagated by anyone who possessed one.
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“I don’t know that there is one in the city. It’s possible that the count has one in his private armory, though… or perhaps the Mages’ Guild. But they wouldn’t just hand you something like that. Have you asked, at least?”
“Not yet.” Bernt said. “I’m not even used to the first investiture yet. My casting is still much too slow.”
It sounded like an excuse, which probably meant that it was one. He didn’t want to ask Archmage Iriala for a favor, especially considering that he already owed her quite a bit. But he would have to, he knew. He was just putting it off as long as he could.
Recognizing that fact, he sighed. “I’ll go and make an appointment on my next day off.”
“Ah, you’re all here,” came Ed’s voice from below. He stood in the mouth of the tunnel, flanked by Dayle and Fiora. Bernt was confused for a moment until he looked around and saw Yarrod making his way down the ramp from the opposite side. “Come on down, I’ll show you around.”
–-----
The tunnel into the new Undercity had been enlarged significantly, nearly as wide as a normal street and tall enough for a mounted rider to pass through. Ed led them straight down the gentle slope toward the original set of chambers near the entry, but Bernt saw several new tunnels branching off and curving around out of sight, likely leading down underneath the city. The dragon’s lair had primarily been located outside the city to the west, with the kobold’s infiltration tunnels branching out toward and underneath Halfbridge.
“Goodness, Kustov,” said Yarrod, “whyever did you widen the tunnels that the kobolds used to attack the city?”
The dwarf shrugged. “The count wanted the new Undercity mainly built directly underneath Halfbridge for defensive purposes. The main tunnel here branches off the original one in a few hundred paces and curves down and around as well. We expanded it out from the infiltration tunnels – only about a fifth of it is even part of the original dungeon. It’s just as well, the general didn’t want to give us his space, and we want to keep the civilians as far away from the duergar lines as we can.”
“I suppose,” Yarrod sighed. “But I hope you kept in mind that this means the new denizens of this Undercity could tunnel right up into the basements of our fair citizenry. I fear that a warren of tunnels isn’t necessarily going to attract the cream of the crop, so to speak, in terms of the quality of its future denizens.”
Kustov narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?”
“Please, my friend,” the gnome said, looking pained. “I do not impugn the honor of our fair dwarven neighbors. I rather would point to the other, generally more surface-oriented races who would hide their activities from the light of day.”
Kustov rolled his eyes and Dayle snorted. “You worry too much. What do you think we’re there for? We’ll keep everyone in line.”
Yarrod shook his head, muttering something that sounded skeptical, but he let the matter drop.
True to Kustov’s word, the main tunnel did turn back around in a wide arc, leading them down and underneath the city until they came into a large chamber – a cavern, really.
The dwarf turned around and swept his hand around in a presentational gesture as they stopped to admire it for a moment. The stone ceiling was held up by massive stone columns and lit by a large mage light that someone, probably Ed, had hung high up near the ceiling. A large, empty market square spread out in front of them, already complete with stone stalls for merchants. The sides of the square cavern were lined with the plain stone facades of unfinished buildings, and at the center of each side Bernt could see the mouth of a large tunnel – the main thoroughfares of the new district.
The walls of the space weren’t smooth – a deep, natural-looking crack rounded the entire cavern horizontally about twenty paces up, and smaller cracks radiated outward from it at regular intervals in a pattern that made it clear that it was not, in fact, natural at all.
As they watched, a robed man on the other side of the square placed a hand against the stone and bowed his head, his softly spoken words echoing through the space unintelligibly.
At first, nothing happened. But then, Bernt noticed a soft greenish-yellow glow coming from the crack in the stone right above the man. A moment later, the source of the light wiggled its way out of the crack, followed by several more of the things. Bernt shivered, thinking they were some kind of worm until softly glowing leaves began to sprout from the tendrils. Seconds later, inflorescences of tiny flowers emerged from underneath and bloomed, bathing the cavern in bright white light like tiny clusters of stars.
Within a few minutes, the vines emerged from the large crack all around the cavern, growing inward and finding purchase in the smaller cracks to lay down roots and quest out further until they found the outer columns. It turned the space from imposing but mostly practical into something uniquely beautiful.
Bernt’s breath caught looking at it.
This was incredible. He could get used to this, Bernt decided. No, he needed to live here. It was roomy here, not at all like the former dungeon, which was sized for tiny kobolds. He had no idea what the rest of the Undercity would look like, but this… well, he was friends with the dwarf who’d made it. Friendly acquaintances. Whatever. Kustov would help if he asked, and even he could see that he’d be an idiot not to ask.
“What do you think?” a rich, melodious voice asked. Bernt dropped his gaze from the glowing vines and turned, surprised. The robed man was watching them, eyes twinkling. He was a half-elf who wore a long, brown beard that made him look more human than elven. He took a moment to give Ed a brief nod, but he was clearly addressing Kustov.
“Archdruid Leirin. Yes, fine, ” Kustov said in a clearly reluctant tone of concession. “It looks better than rune lighting.”
“Just as I told you!” the archdruid said proudly, but then his formal demeanor cracked and he grinned. “Dwarven architecture has too many straight lines. You have to break it up with some more organic elements or it just doesn’t feel homey.”
Kustov frowned, but waved the man off. “Be off with you. We’re not paying you to chat.”
“You’re not paying me at all – the count is,” the druid chuckled and winked as he moved toward one of the far tunnels, presumably to continue his work of lighting the place.
“Arrogant leaf-muncher.” Kustov grumbled, but Bernt could tell he was pleased.
Ed patted the dwarf on the back as he passed him, heading toward the right side of the cavern. “Relax,” he said. “It’s the results that matter. This is perfect. I think we’re going to get a lot more interest than old Narald bargained for.”
Bernt couldn’t help but agree.
Ed led the group through an archway that was probably supposed to hold a set of double-doors later into a large, open chamber. The keystone of the arch was marked with a stylized arcane glyph under a crescent, the whole thing bisected by a vertical line.
Inside, several of the new underkeepers did spear drills under the watchful eye of a regular city guard who Bernt didn’t recognize. And behind them Bernt could see deep into an entire complex of empty rooms through a series of unfinished windows and doors.
“Welcome,” Ed said with a grandiose gesture to the surrounding space, “to the new Underkeepers’ headquarters.”