This is incredibly uncomfortable, I thought as I tried for the fifth time to get the guard’s helmet to fit properly on my head. While he was nearly as large as I was, his head appeared to be at least two or three centimeters smaller in circumference, meaning that his headwear could barely accommodate my skull. The breastplate was too small as well, but adjusting the leather straps did well enough for fixing that issue. Hopefully, nobody notices that my sword looks different, I thought, I’m not leaving the only decent weapon I’ve found down in this sewer, but I also can’t really hide it.
Looking at my tattered gambeson and the pile of unused clothing, I realized I would have to dump it to be safe. The guard’s sword gave the bundle enough weight that it sunk in the tunnel’s water, so I opted for the easiest option. The two bodies should go in as well, I thought, If I just throw the whole torture table in, the high priest will sink, then I just need to find some way to sink the guard. As it turned out, there were extra chains in the torture room, so I chained the guard to the table and tossed it into the channel, sinking both bodies.
Now, the last step, I thought. While I didn’t relish the idea of making myself utterly filthy, I had to obscure my skin color somehow in case the guards on Owsahlk had the same recruitment policies as the Rehvites did. Reaching up and grabbing wet refuse off of the walls and ceiling nearby, I proceeded to splash my face and body with it. The smell triggered my gag reflex and I ended up coughing up more blood and glass into the channel, but once I was done no casual observer would be able to tell I wasn't Luwahriy without getting close, which made the unpleasantness worth it. Now, I need to head west and south, I thought, the water flow is roughly south, and if I recall correctly west should be this way…
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Sounds from above occasionally echoed down into the sewer tunnels as I walked, heavily distorted by reverberation. The further westward I went, the less the noises tended to resemble screams and the sounds of combat, so I knew I was entering parts of town that weren’t under attack. Koyl headed in the opposite direction initially, then probably went south, I figured, I’m guessing he tried to pop out somewhere close to the border to the slums. Meanwhile, by my estimation, I was well into the middle of the city, possibly even in the west end.
It’s odd that I haven’t seen any other guards, I thought as I brushed another beetle from my shoulder. The only other living things I had encountered since leaving the torture room were rats, some small fish in the water, and numerous varieties of insects. Ants seem strangely common down here, I thought, letting my mind wander. I wouldn’t have expected so many of them in an environment like this. Maybe it’s a species that only superficially resembles ants, since they don't appear to be moving as a group or in lines.
“Hey, you!” someone called out, and I ducked into a fighting stance in response. I couldn’t tell where the sound had come from, and I momentarily debated using light magic to get better visibility. “Up here,” the voice said, and I realized I had just walked past a grate that had almost no light shining through it. Looking back at it, I saw a bearded man in a guard’s helmet looking in at me.
“Oh,” I mumbled, making a vague acknowledgment. Need to act like a guard, I thought, I haven’t exactly studied them, but I can manage.
“You’re going the wrong way,” the guard said, “you need to turn back and head in the opposite direction.” Oh but that’s the opposite of my intention, I thought, now, how would Koyl handle this? I probably shouldn’t appear overly professional.
“I got turned around,” I said sheepishly, in as accurate of an Uwrish accent as I could manage. “I can’t seem to find my way around down here. It stinks and every tunnel just splits into more tunnels.”
“Where’s your captain?” the guard asked. I took a few steps towards the grate, being careful to keep my face at least partially in darkness, and tried to see what buildings were around the man. Well, they’re stone at least, I thought, I’m definitely not in the slums, but I knew that already.
“He, uh…” I stuttered deliberately to buy time. I can think of a dozen excuses to be separated from my captain, but what would be plausible for a human guard?
“He what?” the guard asked, suddenly serious.
“He sent me back because, well,” I mumbled, rubbing my helmeted head. “I, uh, fell in, as you can see.” The guard raised an eyebrow and I took a step forward, revealing my mud-covered face. “Only a bit though,” I added hastily as the guard grimaced in disgust. “He didn’t even give me a lantern, I’ve just been fumbling around down here trying to find my way back.”
“You know what’s in that water, right?” the guard asked.
“Can you just let me out and point me back to a guard post so I can wash off and get a change of pants?” I asked, trying to sound desperate. “Having to come down here at all is bad enough, but this is just disgusting.” The guard gagged, then moved back from the grate. For a moment I thought he was simply leaving, but a few seconds later a metal tool moved through the grate and picked it up, then a rope fell down through the open hole. “Thanks,” I said genuinely, grabbing into the rope and pulling myself up out of the sewer.
The first thing I did when my head was above ground was look around to get some kind of idea of where I was. We’re not in the rich part of town, I knew immediately from the bits of trash in the alley. The guard looked at me, then flinched and stepped back, holding a hand up to his face.
“Gods, you smell like death,” he gagged. “Is that blood?” He pointed to some of the blood on the shoulder of my guard uniform, left behind from when I killed its owner.
“Yeah, I hit my neck when I fell in,” I improvised. “There were some sharp rocks in the channel.”
“I haven’t seen you before,” the guard said, looking me over. I waited for his eyes to pause on my sword, but they seemed more interested in my face.
“I just joined a few weeks ago,” I lied. With hundreds of guards, it's unlikely any one of them knows about every new recruit, I thought.
“What post?” the guard asked, his tone less suspicious than it was curious.
“Uh, I don’t…” I mumbled. “The one near the south docks. Sorry, I’m actually from Pehrihnk and just moved here, so I’m not familiar with the names of everything yet.”
“You just moved here and became a guard?” the guard snorted.
“It’s a job, isn’t it?” I replied rhetorically. “I need money, and there’s not much else for work here.”
“Ah, yeah, you’re not Luwahriy, so there isn't much,” the guard noted with a hint of distaste. “If you'll forgive my bluntness, you picked a bad time to move, friend. I'm surprised they're even still taking people with foreign blood in the city guard with how things are around here these days. Still, city guarding is honest work, and the pay is good. I'm sorry you’ve had such a bad time of it, it's not usually like this around here.”
“I got that impression,” I remarked. “If I knew I was going to be crawling through a sewer I might have just taken to being a farmhand, you know?”
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“Believe me, I know,” the guard laughed. “The post you’re based at is probably the Vaemshuwz post if it’s in the south. That's the one closest to the docks.”
“That sounds like the one,” I nodded. “I was pretty sure it was Vae-something, I just couldn’t remember.”
“I’m based over at the Zeylzahm post on the west end,” the guard said, smiling politely. “If you’d like, stop by my post tomorrow after work and I’ll take you out for food with the boys,” the guard offered. “You look like you need to blow off some steam. I’m Zhiht, by the way.”
“I'm…Thaajh, and I might take you up on that,” I smiled back, improvising a name on the spot. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to get into a tub before this smell sticks to me forever.”
“Indeed, may you be favored,” the guard grinned.
“May you be favored,” I echoed, and we both left the alley in different directions. Out in the street, there was little foot traffic since the sun had yet to rise and most stores were still closed. The few pedestrians that were out only spared me small glances before turning away, and all gave me a few meters of space to walk past them. Probably from the smell, I thought, Where can I find some water to clean off? I can’t really pay my way into an inn looking like this, and I doubt my story would work at the actual guard post.
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I ended up heading due south, gambling that the city’s waterfront would have at least one or two sections that weren’t patrolled heavily. I hadn’t yet been to the south of Owsahlk, but I guessed that it couldn’t have been much different than the ports at Pehrihnk and Vehrehr. Sure enough, after descending some wooden stairs along the side of the dock and walking along the shoreline I found a location where the nearest humans were specks in the distance.
After removing my new helmet, armor, and shirt, I also pulled off my pants and boots, throwing them into the ocean water before walking in after them. I left my other equipment, along with my money, just out of reach of the waves but well within visual range. The ocean water was cold, but a bit of heat magic kept me from feeling it, and the salt content seemed to help the grime come off my skin and out of my hair. Even after I was clean, I remained in the water for some time, bobbing up and down with the slowly rolling waves.
If this is a fully human body, where did it come from? I wondered all of a sudden, reminded of the beach on Awsriyah island. The question wasn’t one with an answer, of course, and even if I had asked it aloud I doubted the starry sky would have responded. Putting the thoughts aside, I scrubbed the mud out of my pants and boots, then waded back to shore and grabbed the guard uniform. At least I have the medallion and the papers, I thought as I pulled them out of its inner pocket, not that it’ll be useful, once they realize the high priest is dead and it was stolen.
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Using a shaped heat magic field like I had done to keep myself warm during the storm, I helped my guard uniform dry off rapidly as I walked back into the city. There are so few guards in the middle of town, I noted, I don’t think I’ve seen more than five since I left the beach. Clearly, the operation in the slums wasn’t intended to be a short-term one. In the distance to the east, I could see the glow of fires on the horizon, even as the sun began to rise. I need to find somewhere to sleep, I thought, I guess I’ll have to do it outside.
Soon enough I found a building with a flat roof and a method of access. When nobody was looking, I quickly jumped up and scaled the wall, using force magic to boost my initial kick-off and help me grip a small ledge halfway up the building. As soon as I flopped down onto the wooden roof, fatigue took me, and my body began to relax. My eyes felt heavy, and I could tell my blinks were taking longer and longer. Only a few hours, I thought, I need to get to the Dkehpmz Mercantile office and meet with Koyl, assuming he got away. If he didn't, I'll need a new plan.
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The sky seemed to bend, and I found myself in places and doing things that made sense as long as I didn’t think about them. Several times I even knew I was dreaming, but until I questioned the logic of the dream it would continue. If I dared to go against the dream, it would pop like a bubble, and I would become aware that I was laying on a roof with my eyes closed for a few minutes until it started up again. None of the dreams seemed to be of any consequence, though Koyl and Vaozey were with me in some of them. What are the chances that she survived? I wondered, I suppose it depends on how heavy the armor was, and if she was knocked unconscious…
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Snapping back to alertness, I opened my eyes to see a gray sky above me, and the events of the previous night rushed back into my mind. I almost sat up before I remembered I was on a roof, and that I might be seen from the street if I moved too hastily now that foot traffic would be heavier. I could also hear humans inside the building I was on top of, so I rolled over very carefully and inched my way up to the edge of the roof, pulling off my helmet and peering over to see how long I would have to wait to get off. If I was still in my gambeson I could just jump off, I thought, I doubt most people would care about a mercenary hopping off a roof. Actually, being shirtless isn’t a crime, so maybe I can just leave the uniform up here.
Slipping my helmet, guard armor, and shirt off, I left them in a pile in the middle of the roof before moving to the edge and looking down into the alley. After checking to make sure no guards were looking in my particular direction, I hopped down in one move, letting my healing quickly fix my feet as I thumped down to street level. One human looked over at me as she passed the alley, and our eyes met, but she said nothing and kept walking, disappearing into the street. I have about an hour and a half, hopefully, I can get some clothes before then, I thought.
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“Really sir, this is the third gambeson in a week?” the shopkeeper asked me as I slipped on a new black garment. “I can hardly believe such a story.”
“I’ve had quite a run of bad luck,” I replied, slipping her some money in payment. Making small talk with the shopkeeper wasn’t something I had intended to do, but the woman was so chatty that being quiet would have been more suspicious than talking. Uwrish accent, Koyl impression, I thought, worked on the guard, works here too. I should remember this, it’s fairly useful.
“Were you caught up in that business last night?” the shopkeeper asked. I felt a flare of hostility in my chest, which I quashed.
“Not exactly,” I replied evenly. “What happened anyway? I know there was a disturbance in the slums, but I had already gone to bed by the time it all happened.”
“It was terrible,” the shopkeeper grimaced. “That madwoman from the slums attacked the temple with a squad of assassins and killed most of the attendees. My grandmother only escaped because she hid in one of the upstairs prayer rooms. Nearly everyone else was burned alive or cut to pieces.” So there were a few who got away, I thought, suppressing a grimace.
“So then the ‘business’ with the slums, it was a search for her and the other perpetrators?” I asked. The shopkeeper looked around, as though checking if anyone else was in the store, then leaned on the counter in front of her to get closer to me.
“It was an uprising,” she said in a hushed tone. “The detested were just waiting for the temple attack to happen, then they started rising up to try to kill the rest of us. The guard managed to suppress it, but it was almost like a field battle in the streets. At least a dozen guards were maimed and a few were even killed.”
“And the slum dwellers?” I asked. Seeing the woman’s look of confusion, I decided to elaborate. “How many casualties did they take? Did the guards catch the assassins or the madwoman?”
“What would the purpose be in reporting how many of them were killed?” the shopkeeper asked harshly. Sensing I had made a misstep, I smiled gently.
“Well, bragging rights of course,” I replied. “I was just curious. As you might be able to tell, I'm a mercenary, so these things interest me. It might mean new contracts that I can take.” The shopkeeper returned my smile and stood back up straight.
“In your case, there may still be work,” she said. “While the uprising was defeated, neither the madwoman nor any surviving assassins of hers have yet been reported captured or killed. Some are speculating that she took her own life or ended up perishing in the fires last night and the body simply hasn’t been found yet. From what my husband tells me, the coward never emerged to face anyone in combat.”
“I see,” I replied, processing the information. So she didn’t join the fighting, but they also haven’t found her body, I summarized, that doesn’t bode well, she might have actually drowned. I suppose it saves me the trouble of ensuring her silence. “And the assassins?” I asked.
“They don’t even know how many there were,” the shopkeeper sighed. “Officially, there weren’t any, but I think they just don’t want people to panic. My husband is a guard captain, you see, so I know a bit more than most.” But not very much, I thought, that’s good.
“Sounds like I’ll be getting some bounty work then,” I replied with a genuine smile. “I need to get going, but thank you for the information. May you be favored.”
“May you be favored,” the shopkeeper beamed back. “And though you are not a follower, a good customer is always welcome in my store. Come back when you need that gambeson patched up, I know how rough you boys can be on clothes.”