Book 3: Chapter 41 - 45 (Edited) (Patreon)

Chapter 41 - Small World

The sewers of Al-Lazar, ofttimes ironically dubbed as the ‘Perfumery’ by the locals of the city, is a vast underground network of tunnels that funnel out the wastewater of the city. Over the generations, strange creatures have come to call the place home. Cunning rodents the size of wolves, and in sufficient numbers almost as fearsome, clades of reptilia and chitinous horrors live alongside each other. Strangest of all are the gelatinous things that stalk that underground realm, the Quiverings.  

Translucent slimy entities that move silently along the damp corridors and walkways of the sewers are they. The Quiverings feed on any organic matter they encounter, dissolving it with their secretions. 

Legend has it that these creatures are not merely mutations or residents by chance. Rather, they are said to be the living manifestations of the city's sins, accumulated over the countless centuries. As if aware of their own origins, they avoid the light, thriving in the darkest recesses of the sewers. Occasionally, they merge into larger, more formidable masses when threatened, making them a perilous challenge for even the most seasoned sewer explorers. 

- Monsters of the Mortal Realms by K. D. Fidditch.

A stone staircase, well-worn and smoothed by the countless many before us, spiraled down into the depths. Larynda and I, a most unlikely pair, descended slowly into this new mire. I extended my Zajasite, its dim light faintly revealing the ancient friezes and carvings etched into the rock. These relics bore the marks of time. Some of the damage was accidental, others clearly intentional. Here, a figure's face was obliterated; there, limbs were gouged out with rough tools by uncaring hands.

I inwardly hissed at whoever had done such an unthinkable thing.

As we descended, the stench grew, the clear smell of the products of the human condition. Larynda was visibly wilting under the nasal assault, but despite this, her face was set with lines with determination. Against that, I had no excuse for a humiliating retreat back up to the surface. That, and the fact I would be a laughingstock for those above until I had finished my mission down here. My pride would not allow it.

“You know… just a thought an’ all, but you ever thought it might have worked better… if you, well, tried to be nice?” she asked weakly.

I paused in my descent, trying to think of a clever response. Turning around to look at her, I instead saw to my horror that something was writhing underneath her clothes. 

“In a world defined by violence, what better language to speak than.. What… What is that? There is something there…” I exclaimed aghast.

She looked bemusedly at me before she put two and two together. “Oh this, this is just Bubbles!” she answered in good cheer, producing a wriggling bundle of fur from under her clothes.

The creature was the Whispermews that I had gifted the girl after killing quite a few of its relatives after the rains. Unlike me, it had not forgotten those moments when I had held its life in my hands. It quivered in fear under my gaze, squirming until it escaped into the relative safety of Larynda’s garments.

“Stop that Bubbles! That tickles… it’s just Gil! Remember him right!?” she laughed, the sound echoing down before it was swallowed up by dark and soft susurration of flowing water.

“It seems that Bubbles has not taken a liking to me,” I commented dryly. 

“Nah! Bubbles likes everyone. He’s just a bit shy, that’s all!” she answered in her enthusiasm, the sound just a little too loud for the atmosphere of the place.

“You know why we are here, right?” 

“Yes, of course. Killing Sewer Rats!”

“Exactly. Which is why we should probably be a little quieter. Because if we wish to kill these things, first we must catch them.”

“I don’t think that's gonna be a problem. We need twenty tails, right? Well, some of the other people at the Guild told me that they are like all scaredy when they are alone, but if you get a bunch of ‘em together that they’ll be finding you. Like wolves they are.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic. So you are basically saying that we should announce ourselves?” came my acerbic response.

“We don’t want to be spending all day down here, right? We can handle ourselves, right? You’re meant to be the blessed champion of the gods, right? Plus, we’ve come down this far and I’m already wanting a bath.”

“Your point is well taken. That would probably be an option, but first, let’s have a look at the lay of the land, as it were,” I smiled, pleased that she was a good judge of a person’s worth, but unwilling to go ahead so easily with her foolish suggestion. 

“Suit yourself,” she replied with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders.

With that discussion out of the way, we continued, finally reaching the bottom of the steps and entering the vast underground sewer system proper. Uniformly cut stone walkways lined the flow of effluence of black sewage water and were wide enough for five men to walk abreast. The walkway I was on was lacking a rail, and no doubt failing modern safety standards, but there would be little chance of me falling into the dirty water. However, the thought of getting any of that on me caused me to shudder. It was not a pleasant environment at all. Not in the slightest.

We walked on for a good hour, careful to note down our path on the map. Fatigue, at least fatigue of the senses, had already begun to set in. So overpowering had been the stench that my nose had almost shut down in self-defense. Added to this, irritation still perched itself upon my shoulder, whether that be from having to do this most generic of tasks or the fact that I had not been able to vent satisfactorily. This world was teaching me new things about myself that I had never known before. Who would have thought that a quiet bookworm like myself would have the propensity for such violence? All it took was the removal of the trappings and the veneer of civilization to reveal the animal that we all were beneath. 

I clicked my teeth in annoyance, and so too did my ward, as if mimicking me, causing yet another small spike of irritation. We had yet to encounter any Sewer Rats, or anything for that matter, which prompted Larynda’s earlier suggestion to play about in mind.

I gritted my teeth. “Alright, you win.” 

“Win what? A prize? Do I get any money?” she asked with a mix of curious insolence and innocent greed.

I sighed at the unfairness of life in general. She would probably never forget this for as long as she drew breath. 

“Let’s do it your way,” I acquiesced.

“So, like lots of banging and shouting?”

“Well, if I am going to have to be listening to a racket, it might as well be a pleasant one. You remember the tune and the words from that song I taught you?”

She nodded mutely, trying to hide a smile that snuck upon her.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Well some of the words, like, they don’t have much meaning. No matter how many times you explain ‘em to me I just can't understand, like… so I, errmm, changed them.”

“Fine, whatever. Just sing it. Loudly.”

“Alright! And you just complimented me just now dincha?”

“I don’t think I did. Did I?”

“You mus’ be getting old if you don’t remember. Haha!”

Before I could offer a further rebuttal or a well-timed rebuke, she began to sing. And sing she did. Her voice carried a song from my own world, transformed into something both new and familiar. It soared above the noise of the flowing dirty water, its crystal clear notes cutting through the murkiness. It was more than mere music, it resonated with the very air, and the deep darkness at the edges of my light seemed to lessen in its intensity.

If anything else, the girl had a gift.

The innocent clarity of the notes, so subtly different, called forth memories of a happier place and a simpler happier time. It was all very distracting. 

So much so, that I almost fell victim to that most quiet of killers, complacency. The receptionist did explain that there would be areas of the sewers that had been trapped by the Perfurmed Men. This was, at least on the surface, an effort to passively reduce the number of the critters that dwelt below. 

Marked, the areas would be, but I was lost in Larynda’s song and the poor light, and I had almost missed it. However, perhaps it was due to my Trap Detection skill, or even just to my paranoid nature, but there to my left, just below eye level, were markings that I had missed before. But just as I was about three paces away, my eyes were drawn to those odd markings that I, at first, did not recognize. 

“Stop! Don’t Move!” I shouted, grabbing Larynda’s shoulder and cutting off her song.

“Alright! Alright!” came her surprised complaint.

I quickly scanned the edges of my vision, hesitantly moving ever so slightly closer to get a clearer view.

It turned out to be the symbol of the crude lantern of the Perfumers. Once painted yellow, grime and time had caused the color to run and fade. In addition to this, it was defaced by the torch and sword of Adventurer’s Guild, making it even harder to make out what it was. Once a clear warning that ahead lay a trap, was now barely visible due to a cruel prank.  

If ever I found the miscreant that had done this, I swore to make them pay a most terrible price.

“Traps here,” I explained simply, still looking around as I pulled the small child back. “These markings are a warning for adventurers like us. Lend me that for a moment,” I requested, pointing at her staff.

“Alright… just for a bit, right?”

I nodded, before taking it from her. Cautiously, I poked and prodded on the cut stone segments in front of me. This state of affairs continued for a good half an hour and we made painful progress… 

“So… you like want me to start singing again?”

“What sort of question is that… can’t you see that I’m looking for traps? In this light, it is not the easiest thing.”

She pointed at something in the darkness, “You mean that stone bit over there? Looks a bit different from all the others?”

“What? You can see… wait… what do you mean?”

“There’s a bit of stone over that’s brighter than all the others,”

“Here take this, and follow me,” I commanded, passing her the precious glowing Zajasite as I headed off to where she had directed.

Sure enough, my eyes alighted on a painted tile of stone. “Well, I’ll be…”

You have learned Trap Detection (lvl.2)

“Told ya, din’t I?”

“You certainly have better eyes than me. That looks to be the trigger plate,” I commented. The voices within sighed in agreement as a message confirmed it.

“Let’s continue on, but let’s mark it down on the map.” 

“Where exactly?” she answered, eyes crossing in confusion as she placed the bright stone in the crook of her arm. She unfurled the map from her pack and studied it. Upside down, mind.

“Give that here… we are here,” I said, pointing at a place on the map. “Weren’t you paying attention to a word I was saying?”

“That’s pretty smart of you remembering where we are! Looks jus’ like a bunch of straight and squiggly lines to me.”

There had been a time when I was much like her, finding maps utterly mystifying. Now, however, thanks to my enhanced intellectual abilities and memory, I could easily interpret the information they present. Additionally, my sense of direction had significantly improved after spending a considerable amount of time underground.

“Well, if you says we are there then I guess we are… so where do we go from now?” she asked with the smallest hint of annoyance.

“For the moment, one direction is as good as any,” I paused for a moment as I thought things over and consulted the map. I decided to amend my statement, “Actually, let’s continue this way until the next intersection… then we can head to this exit, and back up to the surface,” I stated, stabbing at the map. “Give it another hour or two before calling it a day.” I was more than ready to chalk up today’s expedition as a failure.

As if punctuating my statement, the girl dropped the glowing Zajasite, causing it to roll away. With a viper’s swiftness, I dashed forward and scooped it up before it was lost in the dark slurry of the city’s wastewater.

I was about to offer some words of chastisement when I saw Larynda nervously pointing at something.

“What’s that?” she asked, the pitch of her voice suddenly changing mid-question as if in vibrato.

Here we go again. “What’s what?” I asked her, holding the stone in front of me.

A figure, as if in deep repose, lay against the wall. Armored from head to foot in iron and steel, he looked like a guardian sentry plucked out from a digital game. The sort that expected you to suddenly burst into life as you approached. Expecting a fight, I handed the Zajasite back to Larynda, drawing my sword even as I started to form my opening attack spell.

Hungry tentacles of deep darkness spread out from me, seeking its life. Life that was not there. Too soon they faded, faded back to the abyss from which I had summoned them. My Drain spell had failed, which meant that whoever, or whatever, it was had already departed from this mortal coil. A waste of two points of Mana.

Flummoxed and annoyed, I was initially hesitant to cast an Identify. It felt like throwing good money after bad. However, I did so anyway, revealing the truth of the figure before me.

Gersal Levy - Bulwark Sentinel [Human lvl.14]

Health: 0/238

Stamina: 0/42

Mana: 0/10

Chapter 42 - The Traps

Reflect carefully upon your memories, for when we gaze upon them at our convenience, they are oft inclined to present themselves in a manner most flattering to our own desires.

- From the Analects on Quassian Discourse.

I gingerly prodded the remains of Gersal with my weapon to make sure things were absolutely safe before I approached for closer inspection. Most of the soft parts of the corpse, the unprotected places, had been eaten, leaving behind a rotted thing best placed in the realms of horror. Time, the damp air, and scavengers had left behind a mystery as to what exactly had authored Gersal’s death. 

And where were his companions? Why had they left him here to die alone in the dark? In my mind, it served more as a warning than a mystery. Still, I could not help but to allow my hands to search around for anything of value. 

After removing his bevor, I looted his roughly cut ruby necklace, with a tarnished silver chain, from around what remained of his neck. Lucky me, I thought to myself as Larynda silently assisted me with this grisly task, showing no signs of horror or disgust. This led me to believe it was not her first experience looting a corpse. Together, we found some notes and assorted coins of various denominations. I also discovered a red potion which, after confirming with my magic, turned out to be a minor Health potion. I gave Larynda the money and the potion as her share of the loot, while I kept the necklace for myself. It might serve as a useful gift, or could be traded later.

Beside Gersal’s corpse lay a cracked and rusted sword, the blade pitted and the scabbard rotted. More intriguing, however, was the massive shield next to him, which, in the dim light, I had initially mistaken for a trap door. It was a spiked tower shield, constructed from tough wood and reinforced with dark metal bands. I ran my hand over its rough surface, toying with the idea of taking it, but ultimately decided against it, since I already had my own. For a fraction of a moment, I felt something stir in recognition from within, but the sensation was fleeting and soon left me.

Just as I was about to tell the girl that it was time to depart, there was the glooping sound of sludge falling somewhere in darkness beyond the sentinel light of our Zajasite. The sound repeated itself, becoming a promise of something dread. The hackles of my neck rose in response, the primal part of me knowing that danger was close at hand. I had become nigh immune to environmental concerns such as heat or cold, yet I felt a single bead of sweat make its way down the nape of my neck. This could not be fear. Must not be fear. Nonetheless, the next few words came out of my mouth. 

“Move back slowly. Something comes,” I commanded somewhere between a hiss and a whisper, hoping that I was able to hide my momentary weakness. “And when I say so, run.”

It was not fear. Most definitely not. I was just being sensible.

Behind me Larynda nodded mutely, eager to leave. With her better eyesight, undoubtedly more so perhaps than even I. Slowly we edged backwards, moving away from whatever horror was amassing beyond.

“We really need to be moving a little faster… there’s a big lumpy thing and it’s getting bigger I tell you… an’ faster,” she suggested worriedly in a whisper.

But this suggestion, rather than spurring me to greater efforts of flight, instead sparked a most contrary feeling. It made me realize my pathetic current reality. The great Gilgamesh, Herald of the Goddess, waltzing about in the sewers on a quest to kill mere rats. It made me irate and rebellious. I had stood before creatures of legend and prevailed, who was I to be afraid of what lay in the dark?

“Whatcha doing?” the little girl behind me hissed as I stopped, standing my ground.

“I would first see what stands before me before turning tail,” I stated with all the bravery of a youth who has been slighted.

“Dun’t know why you can’t see that oozy thing already, probably old like… nah, that’s not the point! We got to get out of here! Please!”

Ignoring her, I cast Identify into the direction ahead of me, willing the magic to find what had caused me to feel anxious, and not give me some useless information on the state of a random stone tile. The voices in turn soothed me, promising me victory with their sibilant whispers. I drew a slight breath, grinning to myself as it gave me the information that I sought.

Quiverings - [Slime lvl.18]

Health: 351/351

Stamina: 41/41

Mana: 2/2

An eager smile played about my lips as I drew my crossbow, placing a fresh iron bolt upon it. It would be interesting to see how this glorified slime, this Quiverings, reacted to fire damage. 

I swiftly cocked my weapon and fired an Inferno Bolt at the location of the Quiverings. A flare of light shrieked through the darkness, illuminating an alien yet horrifyingly familiar creature for a fleeting moment. At first, I doubted my eyes, thinking they deceived me. Before us was a wall of living ooze, a quivering, tentacled blob inching towards us. The impact of my bolt on its gelatinous body gouged out a sizable chunk of its Health, hissing as it burrowed its way into its mass.

The monster emitted a primal screech that resonated with its fury. An extraordinary feat, considering it had no mouth. The Quiverings began to vibrate, its amorphous, slimy body rippling. Bright circles of runes emerged, slowly intertwining to form a spell construct that hinted at flow and communion.

“Stay behind me!” I cried out to the half-elven girl as I fired another fiery bolt, determined to interrupt its arcane incantation.

The quarrel of burning iron smacked against the creature, releasing its potential energy, but I had been too slow.

Despite the additional damage inflicted by my fiery bolt, the odd creature completed its spell. Twin lances of dark, watery sludge formed, spinning rapidly before hurtling towards me with alarming speed.

Behind me, I felt Larynda’s presence. The girl, despite having urged me to flee earlier, had obeyed my command and was still firmly stuck by my side. Were I alone, I could easily dodge the magical sludge coming for me, but I had to protect my ward. I had to stand my ground. That was my conclusion as I knelt and summoned my Mimic shield, even as twin balls of dark water mysteriously flew past me on a course to intercept the dark sludge.

In mere moments, threaded vines of organic matter flowed disturbingly from my arm, digging into the stone floor. A wall formed of thick wood, banded iron, and steel spikes that blocked my vision. A mimicry of Gersal’s oversized board, a tower shield. 

The Mimic truly lived up to its name.

I was grinning inanely at this discovery even as the spell smashed against the new form of my shield, a great jarring impact that rattled my bones. I had expected to have been knocked off my feet or pushed back, as the laws of physics dictated before, but instead, I had merely been forced down to one knee. My shield was still firmly rooted to the ground, a strong bulwark against attack, but it blocked my vision. 

I needed to see what was happening. Now.

Waves of confusion crashed against my consciousness as I felt something opening. For the first time, a new eye opened and the Mimic saw the world around it, and through it, so did I. Painted in blurred shades of gray, it was a stark picture of the world, no better than my own. No worse, really, even than my own sight, I realized. Almost immediately after, new notifications from the game momentarily clouded this new vision. 

Your Entropic Mimic has learned Adaptive Defense (lvl.3)

Your Entropic Mimic has learned Shield Form (lvl.3)

Your Entropic Mimic has learned Absorb (lvl.1)

Your Entropic Mimic has learned Perception (lvl.1)

I saw then that the Quiverings was writhing, its advance slowed as my bolts were still eating into and causing damage.

Disoriented by the extra source of sensory perception, on unsteady feet I rose. The Mimic shield relinquished its grip on the floor with a crack of stone, as its roots withdrew back into itself. It was a cumbersome thing and heavy even with my enhanced strength.

I started to step slowly back, but Larynda stopped me.

“Behind you!” she wailed emphatically.

I turned to see twin orbs the color of diseased yellow materializing in the darkness, just at the edge of the Zajasite's light. What began as two quickly multiplied to four, then eight, until a multitude stared back with a foreboding hunger. They were the eyes of a verminous horde. The sound of chittering squeaks escalated, gradually overpowering the background noise of flowing effluvia and the lingering echoes of the Quiverings’ primal scream.

Approaching us were creatures the size of wolves, but they bore large incisors and long, sinuous tails, instead of the canines and bushy tails of their very distant lupine cousins. Their bodies, covered in matted fur, carried the grime of the sewers, and their eyes reflected a bold, unwholesome hunger.

As predicted by Larynda, the Sewer Rats of Al-Lazar had found us.

“I did not bring you down here just to sing a few tunes! Use your magic, damn you!” I commanded Larynda, who nodded and drew a piece of paper from her pouch, a magical Seal. She began to chant a spell of her own in a small and panicked voice.

Slimes and bloody rats. Instead of fear, I felt anger and resentment take me in full bloom and oddly a need to set an example. It blossomed into a rage that was echoed by the magic within. How dare they set such creatures against me? Entropic Aura beckoned to be released, the perfect spell to deal with the multitude of rodents that had snuck up upon us.

I released the magic from within and let it ride upon the waves of my emotion. As the first circle of gray night spread from me, I felt oddly at peace, as if the universe and everything made sense. As if everything that was meant to be, now, simply was.

The magic pulsed.

The monstrously large rats squealed, squeaked, and hissed in terror as they moved away from me. The Quiverings, unfortunately, was not so easily dissuaded. It continued its alien advance, activating the marked trigger plate and swallowing up Gersal’s remains. 

Bladed darts rained from the ceiling down onto the gelatinous, tentacled blob to little effect. Its body seemed to absorb the force of the sharp metal and it suffered damage only in the single digits. Still, it writhed in place, strange appendages striking in random directions as it searched for the source of this new attack. It was, at least for the moment, distracted.

And so I turned my attention to the vermin horde, preparing to cut a path through them with blade and spell. 

Just as I was about to cast Drain… no - Greater Drain, to reduce these creatures of flesh and blood to a bundle of zeros, I heard a quiet voice, a mere whisper. Pitted with the promise of the grave, it called to me in protest, and with it a sense of rot and release, of turning and of change played on my senses. Decay demanded attention. Surprisingly, the voices agreed in their sage wisdom. So, hooking  my crossbow to my belt, I formed the rarely cast spell, my free hand running through the strange somatic gestures.

The spell of rot and ruin washed over the vermin, the denizens of this terrible place. Almost immediately, pustules grew upon the giant rats as if they had been suddenly overtaken by virulent sickness. This was soon followed by an explosion of vile liquid, leaving behind cancerous weeping sores all over the rodents’ bodies. A sense of wrongness came over me, a stark contrast to my earlier feeling of tranquility. Decay, the spell at least, did not work like this.

The rodents, instead of running away from us in fear and pain, drew ever closer, their number increasing by the second, even as more of their number were overcome by my spreading disease. They formed almost a living mass of their own, crawling over each others’ bodies to reach us.

Then suddenly, I felt a rush of diseased air as Larynda unleashed a spell of raw Chaos. “Nara Sakullu,” she cried out in a tremulous voice that, nonetheless, rang out with notes of destiny. She had summoned the Black Flame.

Black jagged lines of dark flame that absorbed what little light there was, rushed upon wings of night into the giant form of the Quiverings. The slime creature gave out a baleful shriek as it felt the unnatural fire’s caress. I laughed in maniacal glee, glad that I had chosen to take Larynda with me. A weapon that I could command. 

The ebon fire burned at the Quiverings, filling the air with hot, newborn steam. Its health dropped suddenly, the unnatural magic of Chaos eating away at it as it was dissolved by the liquid flames.

But the fires did more than just burn, for I saw that they emanated something very ancient, very ancient indeed, that resonated with a part of my soul. Primordial Chaos. Where the flames licked the stone floor and water, growths of vegetation sprouted from the stone and wastewater. Ghost-white, they wilted and died in scant moments, but as suddenly as they died new flames stoked their corpses to birth new life. Where there was death, fungus spawned in the myriad shades of life, only to soon also wilt and rot.

The Quiverings itself was more dramatically affected. After the Quiverings’ Health dropped, it soon rose again. Rise and fall, rise and fall. A curse of change was overtaking it, mutating its form and bending it into new and random shapes. The spell was raw Chaos indeed, as harmful as it was helpful.

Our released unknowable magics mixed, and they created a warped duet that played in constant counterpoint. In this most discordant of songs, a melody of oblivion that resonated and echoed with itself, a harmony of controlled chaos sounded.

I knew in my bones that the Quiverings could not be defeated by my magic or blade now. Larynda’s strange magic had seen to that. 

A link was formed in this medley of arcane power, a link between me and the flood of vermin. And with this link came a question, a skittering mental screech repeated by a multitude of individuals. What do you wish of us? They asked, not really words, not even a true question, but more of a demand of their own. The many were seeking purpose.

My next words were ripped from me, ripped as it seemed from the very fabric of my soul. I felt profoundly lessened.

“Be more,” I croaked in a voice that was not all quite mine. Such simple words, but with great and heavy meaning. Larynda looked at me in confused horror. 

But this was no one-way street of communication. As did my command fall upon them, so too did their multitude of lives fall upon me. There came impressions of a life of darkness, of swimming through watered blight, and of days fought with tooth and claw. Through our fell link, I knew now, with great intimacy, of their urge to survive and live, and knew, too, of their equal urge to rut and reproduce. Their hunger for all things.

The rats listened. More importantly, they obeyed. Now they would be more in all meanings of the word. My words would become a catalyst for their great change.

As if marking this moment, the game heralded me with a new message. To me, it was just a system notification, but had these low creatures been able to understand and witness them, it might have well become the start of their new gospel.

You have gained 1 Wisdom.

You have gained 1 Luck.

You have learned Entropic Aura (lvl.5)

You have learned Decay (lvl.2)

You have learned Monster Taming (lvl.2)

Chapter 43 - Flight in the Dark

Today I have come to the conclusion that those who are rich need only risk a portion of their Share and assets to become greater. Those who are poor must risk their very lives if they wish to become more.

- From the diary of Lady Aelayah of House Salahaem.

This world was slowly teaching me, in a manner most crude, of the limits of language and hyperbole. My communion with the rats was both the most intimate of sharings and the most heinous of violations. Familiar feminine laughter, that only I could hear, rang in my ears. It felt as if each peal eviscerated a part of me, and my heart grew heavy as I realized that I had furthered her purpose. Unwittingly, I had fallen into one of her traps.

“Welcome, false priest, to another of my temples,” came a soft whisper, velvety smooth and imbued with divine certainty. It was the voice of Iasis, the mother of monsters. As the laughter faded, I turned my attention to my status. A mix of shock, indignation, and a hint of horror washed over me when I realized my magical reserves were nearly depleted. Damn the witch who dared call herself a goddess. The mingling of magical energies, Chaos and Entropy, had drained more from me than I had intended.

Without warning, the tide of scrabbling creatures surged forth like a wave of living flesh. Furry vermin, emitting shrill squeaks and menacing hisses, surged and swarmed. I pressed my back against the grimy wall of the passage and pushed against them with my spiked shield in a desperate attempt to protect my charge. Around us, the horde of vermin flowed past us, forming a writhing mass painted in hues of dirty browns and muted grays. Most repulsive were their tails. Sinuous, wriggling appendages that seemed to possess a life of their own.

Huddling behind my massive shield, I saw it all unfold through the grill of my visor and borrowed sight. The scene grew more chaotic as the giant rats launched themselves at a colossal slime monster with savage purpose. They tore through its strange, gelatinous flesh with ferocious bites and vicious scratches, feasting upon the bizarre creature in a frenzied hunger. Their feast was not limited to the Quiverings. The rodents also devoured strange white growths and multicolored fungi, ingesting the very essence of burning Chaos. They feasted, and even as they fed, they suffered the creeping Entropic rot that devoured their very flesh like a curse. But such a curse it was, that it twisted them with each new mouthful. Before me, the strange convergence of magics formed the shape of a gift, or a blessing, that made the humble Sewer Rats more. 

However, titans do not fall easily. Despite the ferocity of the attack, the slime monster fought with a primal determination, for all life clings fiercely to existence. In this grotesque tableau, the battle was by no means a one-sided affair. The air was thick with the raw, pungent stench of primal violence and struggle. Some rodents were drained dry by barbed pseudopods that sucked the life out of them, others drowned in its mass, absorbed by the slime or simply crushed against hard stone. 

The Quiverings slew a vast score of the Sewer Rats, but the rodent's victory was slowly becoming all but certain. For every Sewer Rat slain, there seemed to be five to take its place. And even in death, the vermin were taking their toll, infecting the slime with a black stain of corruption. A dark cloud that was slowly overcoming the creature, growing ever thicker and more vile as the furred creatures continued their onslaught.

Numbers do not lie, and it was clear to me that the Sewer Rats were overcoming the Quiverings’ large Health pool and spell-granted regeneration. Slowly of course.

We could do nothing more than huddle down, my oversized shield protecting us from accidental attacks, as the two forces of nature pushed against each other. Larynda was wild-eyed and breathing deeply, and I could offer her no words of comfort or hope.

Though eaten alive by flame, both of this world and unnatural, and mauled by the many, it seemed to take an eternity for the Quiverings to die. But die it did, and with its death, a small portion of its strength was granted to me.

You have slain some Quiverings 183 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 3 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 2 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 4 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 3 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 2 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 1 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 3 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 2 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 3 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 2 experience gained.

You have slain a Sewer Rat 2 experience gained.

A strange set of notifications, I absently thought to myself, wondering when exactly I had ‘slain’ some Sewer Rats. Looking across some of the diseased and broken forms of some of the vermin, I hypothesized that it must have been indirectly due to my Decay spell. They were the Sewer Rats that could not survive the change that the mix of Chaos and Entropy had wrought on them. That, and checking on my bloodied shield, saw that some of the rodents had hurt themselves upon its spikes.

I dismissed my impromptu barricade, the one-eyed tower shield disappearing into me in a disgusting display of writhing organic vines. Larynda looked oddly at me, the question clear in her eyes as curiosity finally overtook receding fear.

“What in the Dark Lady’s bouncy bosom is that?”

“Just something I picked up a while back,” I answered glibly, drawing my sword. I winced internally at her use of some of Elwin’s more colorful turns of speech.

“Look, I know I’m young an’ all, but that ain’t much of an answer is it?” she continued, looking miffed..

“Perhaps not, but that is the answer I am willing to give now. We will speak on this later. There is a time and place for all things… and that is not now,” was my firm response.

I imagined she rolled her eyes at me, but for the moment she thankfully did not pursue any further. A small saving grace.

The rats, those not busy feasting, looked at me with their dull yellow, beady eyes. But there was no baleful menace in their gaze, just an odd, curious regard. They made no move to attack and a new confidence filled me.

I hacked at a dead rat, its features stilled in the rictus of death, shearing off its tail. Still, the other rodents made no aggressive moves. 

But this did not assuage Larynda who had not felt my dark communion with them. “Gil, like, we got to go!” she urged.

“We came here to do a job… and we are not leaving until we are finished,” was my simple flat response.

“But…” she began again before I silenced her with a raised hand.

“Come, help me,” I commanded, gesturing to the plethora of dead rodentia. A great number of them looked like they had fallen far from the species’ family tree.

Many of the rats had scattered off now in search of greener pastures, and those that remained, like us, had business with the fallen rats. And so we worked together under the curious gazes of the vermin. Larynda was much less efficient than I, her lesser attributes and squeamishness somewhat impeding her progress. To her credit, once she got used to the bloody work her pace picked up measurably. 

I lifted a bloody bundle, tied into a bunch by rawhide strips, to my shoulder. Just doing a job, I repeated to myself endlessly, trying to ignore the wet, squelching presence. 

“Time to go,” I ordered curtly, to which Larynda gave a small nod in return. She was, no doubt, tired, but from the determination I saw in her features, she was still game.

We carefully made our way past the remaining rats, which sniffed and squeaked as we passed. Many had undergone bizarre changes. Some displayed unusual combinations of body parts, while others sprouted tentacles and pseudopods, features alien to their species. Among them, one peculiar rat sported a large mushroom on its back, enveloped in a swarm of spore flies. It was a surreal, random assortment of mutations.

Together, we continued in the direction of one of the exits for what seemed to me to be an indeterminable amount of time. My heartbeat began to slowly settle as we made distance from the macabre site, leading my thoughts down strange tangents. 

It was amazing what the lack of digital entertainment did. It made me seek ‘fun’ down some very dubious avenues. Violence. The anticipation of it, almost as much as its execution, was staining my psyche with its shade. This was an education in human nature, an undeniable reminder of our fundamental properties. 

I hated myself for it, bitterly, and knew in a heartbeat that I would trade this all away for a comfortable couch and a welcoming screen. But that line of thinking was for those who never amounted to anything. That was the old me, I realized with a sardonic grin.

Was it just my environment that was painting my thoughts and desires so? Or was it something more sinister? That wasn’t what I needed to think about, was it? The voices within agreed that there were other more pressing matters to see to. Convinced, I felt myself nodding. 

“Hey… slow down a bit…” wheezed my charge between labored breaths, interrupting my thoughts.

“We can’t… we need to get out here,” I snapped.

Hands on her knees, she continued with her complaint, “Wait… can’t go on…”

“Very well. A quick rest to catch your breath, but we can not afford to dally here. I will carry you if I must,” I warned.

I estimated giving her two or three minutes, during which I closely monitored my Mana, noticing it was replenishing slowly. Pulling out a Mana potion, I had an internal debate about whether to drink it or not. The miser that I was, I ultimately decided to conserve my resources.

“So… like… what happened back there? And what was that icky thing that was a shield that went into your arm?”

“As to what happened with those rats… and that Quiverings thing, your guess is as good as mine… that was strange, I tell you that.” I paused, looking away for half a second while I gathered my thoughts. “And as to that… as I said earlier it was something that I picked up. A magical shield of sorts. Just like in the stories. Oh, and just as an observation, perhaps it would be best if you use a different spell next time. The effects of that black fire… were erratic. That crystal thing that you did, for instance, might be a safer bet. How did you do that anyway?” I replied, eager to change the topic.

From what I could discern from her expression, she did not completely believe me about the shield. 

My question prompted a surprisingly swift answer, “I dunno, it just felt right. Like something I’d done before but jus’ forgotten like… No that ain’t right. More like hearing the first notes to a song… and humming the rest?”

“I have no idea what it is you are talking about. Just keep in mind whatever that water witch told you about using that magic. Your Control, or whatever you call it, is important. Practice when you can,” I put forward, keen to keep things focused on her and not me.

She looked at me as if she was digesting my words, running them around her mind before she answered. “You’re probably right. Sage advice, that. Need to work on the water stuff anyways… got plenty to work with down here. Bit difficult for some reason… maybe because it aint all exactly jus’ water. Lotsa icky bits in it too.”

Just as I was about to voice my agreement, I heard footsteps accompanied by the familiar clank of armor. There was also a distant murmur of voices. A small group was approaching, at least by my estimations, though echoes often made liars of even the best guesses.

I sighed to myself and raised a hand to call for silence. The arrival of this new group introduced a complication I had little energy to address. With my mana reserves reduced to less than a third, barely enough to cast a simple Heal spell, I knew I needed to act.

Unstoppering the mana potion, I took a deep swig. Almost immediately, I noticed the difference in quality compared to the last one I had consumed. A fiery sensation ignited within me, drawing the magical energies of the world toward its center and revitalizing me. It felt as though my body was opening up to the world around me, sharpening my senses. My surroundings became crisper, allowing me to perceive subtle details I normally would not. I saw the exact, even lines of the stone tiles,  heard a drop of water falling from the ceiling and the faint echo of distant footsteps above, and felt the texture of every fiber touching my skin. Smelled and tasted the rancid air. 

Holding back the urge to retch, I smiled a crazy smile as my Mana surged. Whatever happens next, they will not find me completely unprepared.

Chapter 44 - White Lies

And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh people, give greetings to those you meet, and give succor to the ones in need. Give prayer before sleeping and the gates of heaven will be open to you.

And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh men of this world, fear the Goddess in women. I command you, treat them well, for they are in Her image.

And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh people, the Goddess did not send me from the Distant World to teach you to curse people and hate them. Rather, I was sent to teach you the higher morals and edicts of Heaven. Do no doubt the word of Heaven, for that is a sin most grave, and your punishment will be burning hellfire.

- An excerpt from the New Suras of the Edict of Heaven.

The problem with echoes was that they made distance rather difficult to ascertain. As the sound of the approaching footsteps overwrote each other, numbers too were hard to judge. But here in this dark pit, surely people were a good thing? Or so I would have thought, were I still new to this world.

And with that, I drew my sword, my Azag-Gishban, its comfortable weight lending me purpose. Summoning my shield to me, a massive edifice of wood and iron formed. It was a match to the one I had found beside Gersal’s corpse. Like me, it seemed, my Mimic was capable of learning new things. 

Looking at the little girl, I gave her a nod but I couldn’t help but notice that she still looked queerly at me. However, gone now was the greater part of her initial horror.

“If we could hear them, it is more than likely that they have heard us. Pray that whoever approaches means well, but expect the worst,” I whispered just loud enough to be heard.

“You don’t have to tell me…” was her response, given in a tone that children reserved for nagging parents. “Won’t be finding me with my knickers down. Time to try something a little different,” she added as her expression changed to one of focused concentration.

“Now remember what I told you…” was all that I could bleat out before she began to cast a spell.

Words, quick as a rushing stream poured out of her as she grasped her staff, the markings on its wooden surface glowed dimly before disappearing. Their arcane meaning, like with other spells I had encountered, of course, eluded me. Nonetheless, if I can even put it into words, I was given an impression of sharp, controlled flow. It was a mystery. 

And a part of me reasoned on an almost instinctual level, that if I were to truly comprehend her magic, I would be well down the path of madness. For such was the price to be paid for bending the laws of reality.

“Alright, it's done. Ready,” she claimed in a soft voice.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Annoyingly she just shook her head before pointing down the walkway. I raised my visor to give myself a better field of view. A will-o-wisps of light were coming closer, a lantern’s glow if I was not mistaken. 

Being of natural flame, the approaching light was a different shade and hue to the purples thrown out by my Zajasite. In short order, the two lights pushed against each other to reveal our respective parties.

Facing us was an unlikely pair, a slender man and a petite woman who looked to be almost diametric opposites. The woman was wearing loose flowing robes and a wide broad-brimmed hat that tapered up into a smooth cone. At her waist was a lantern, and she carried a wooden staff adorned with many strange fetishes of bone and dull glass. A wizard or some sort of magic user, at a guess. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to down the Mana potion.

The man, on the other hand, seemed to be almost her diametric opposite. Tall and thin, he wore loose-flowing clothes of the local style, though, there, across the lower parts of his arms and legs, could be seen the distinctive glint of riveted mail. At his hips hung a lantern and two swords, one long and the other short. Both of them were sleeping for the moment in curved lacquered scabbards of smooth dark wood.

It was the man who addressed us, “That is Gersal’s shield. Where is and what have you done with him?” His voice was flat and calm, but in his eyes flared a restrained anger.

“Where is he!?” shrieked the small woman at his side almost petulantly. It was the well-practiced tone of one used to getting their way through eroding the other’s spirit.

I looked the pair of them over, registering a vague feeling of familiarity. “He is dead, and not by my hand,” I explained, eyes shifting from the woman to the man and back again, looking for any signs of threat.  

As I did so, my mind wove the threads together, giving clearer shape to the recent memory. They were members of Gersal’s adventuring party. The woman’s name was Tally, but the man remained a mystery to me. I was taken suddenly by an overwhelming urge to know, and against my better judgment, I had already silently formed the spell that would sate my curiosity

Muram Al’ Hazin - Dervish (Human lvl.15)

Health: 181/255

Stamina: 36/51

Mana: 9/9

Even as the spell brought to me the information that I sought, like a faithful servant, I hissed inwardly. Had the woman detected my arcane prying? Her angry disposition remained and there was no change to the set of her face or the lines of her body. Tally had not been able to detect my secret spell, either that or she was an accomplished actor. 

“Where is he, you lying cur! I know you’ve done something with him!” she shrilled voice warbling in near hysteria. She looked down and away for a moment. “If it wasn’t for the damn pack of rats we wouldn’t have been separated. I told him, told him so many times we shouldn’t have taken jobs down here…” she mumbled to herself, barely. 

Without warning my ward decided to add her piece. “Look, we had nothing to do with him. We ran into a big blobby slimy thing, and there were rats and stuff. I think that that might have been what got ‘im!” the half-elven girl exclaimed.

Muram glared at us, his anger simmering silently for several long moments before he finally exploded. "A Quiverings has not been seen in these parts for a generation. I demand you take us to him. I will see for myself the truth of your words!" His voice cracked under the strain of his emotions.

Irritated by his combative tone, I took a deep, exasperated breath and pointed in the direction we had come from. "You'll find him back that way," I said tersely.

"You're coming with us, to verify your claims. You are hiding something… not a lie, no, but not the whole of the truth," Muram insisted, his face hardening with each passing second.

Maybe it was the exhaustion from a long day, or perhaps a slight drunkenness on my own sense of power, or maybe a mix of reasons I could not quite grasp, but I felt a childish urge to provoke him further. I had had enough.

"The truth is, you abandoned one of your own, and now your guilt is making you lay the blame where it does not belong. I have told you everything I know. Do not dare to command me. I will not waste another word on you. Don't test me. Now, come child, we need to make our way to the surface," I said, my voice calm but firm, designed more to needle than to soothe.

Suddenly, from nowhere, Larynda blurted out, "Gil, I don't think I can hold it any longer!"

Startled, I snapped, "What now?" causing both Muram and his companion to jump.

Watery sludge rose from the effluvia of the sewage, forming a large swirling conical lance. Though only one spear of water was formed, and its form not quite as solid for lack of a better word, it was an excellent approximation of the Quiverings’ spell. 

“Tally!” cried Muram warning, drawing his blades, even as the spell launched itself at the small woman, who threw some beads upon the floor with a crack.

The twisting spiral of water crashed against an invisible barrier, splashing everyone in the immediate vicinity with its horrible contents.  

Larynda had now inadvertently forced our hand. 

I dropped my bloody bundle of tails, for it seemed a fight was inevitable, but not entirely unwelcome. Although I hadn't used Identify on Tally yet, I knew Muram was not in top form. A fight would likely end in their deaths, granting me more experience. Despite my attempts at a peaceful resolution, fate seemed to always steer me towards violence.

No… No… I would not be pushed, the ghost of a guilty part of me exclaimed. It was time to claim choice over my actions… I would just use Greater Drain, to weaken them and force them to use reason. Yes… that was it. That was the correct and moral solution. 

These thoughts and more ran at lightning pace inside my mind even as I started to cast one of my improved spells, Greater Drain. But even as I started to do so, twin flashes of sharp steel flowed toward me at different angles and my oversized shield moved to meet them, completely blocking my vision. I felt impacts at the top and midpoints of my large shield, and my sudden movement almost ruined my concentration in forming the spell. But the voices took up the slack, continuing the chant in my mind.

The Mimic’s singular eye opened and showed me the current tableau in shades of mortuary gray.

Having failed in his attack, Muram had taken a step back, out of measure. I saw now with my Mimic’s eye that the Dervish was wielding a pair of Zulfikars, swords with two points at their tips. A poor choice for dealing with a man in full armor. What was to be his strategy, here?

Greater Drain was taking much longer to cast than was usual. Was it because I was already in combat, or was it because I was trying to do two things at once? These errant thoughts whirled in my mind, even as I met Muram blade to blade.

Displaying remarkable agility, he danced around my tower shield and struck my blade off-center with his shorter sword. At the same time, he aimed a thrust at my face with his main weapon. The lethal twin tips of his longer blade lunged towards my face, but I ducked at the last second, turning my head to the side. The steel grazed the side of my helmet, inflicting a negligible three points of damage.

I realigned myself, employing the steps that Cordelia had drummed into me to reset my stance and position, stepping sideways. Uncertain if it would work, I decided to use the Shield Bash skill. As I activated it, a familiar thrum coursed through my limbs. My heavy Mimic shield surged forward with unnatural speed, slamming Muram against the passageway wall and stunning him momentarily.

Filled with the fervor of combat, I swung my sword with the full intention of cleaving him in two, momentarily forgetting my initial plan to disable the pair. Despite being off-balance, the tall man deftly parried with his offhand blade, skillfully turning aside the force of my blow. Simultaneously, his other hand struck at my gauntlet, causing only a slight sting. Once again, the Dervish managed only to inflict minor chip damage.

But, even as I was beginning to feel that I had the situation well in hand, I felt several shocking impacts upon my back and my eyes widened in surprise as each of them took a small chunk out of my Health. What sort of weapon would be able to pierce solid steel plate with such ease? 

This time, even with the aid of the voices, I could not keep the spell intact. Something of arcane origin disrupted its magical formation and the Mana used to summon the spell. The Mana used withered away, lost to the ether.

I turned around, keeping my massive shield between me and Muram. Its monstrous gaze kept an eye on him, and I could not help the grin that stole itself upon me as I laughed crazily.

Tally had summoned three orbs of blue energy that floated around her like wisps. Tally pointed her staff at me and the orbs flew at me. In response, Larynda intercepted two of the orbs with her balls of water, and where they met was an explosion of steam and released magical energies. The last one moved too swiftly for me to dodge, and I grunted as it impacted my shoulder. But there was something more to this arcane attack. After the initial contact, I felt something cold, yet hot, bypass the metal of my armor completely. An ethereal knife stabbed away at bone and muscle, and this time almost twenty points of Health were stripped from me, I noticed detachedly. 

Still, but a few drops in the ocean. 

However, my patience was at the end of its tether.

“Stop!” I shouted, my lungs bellowing in an explosion of volume that I did not know I possessed. “Peace! I did not kill your friend, Gersal, or whatever his name was!” I entreated. In a show of good faith, I sheathed my sword. 

Most likely knowing that the situation was against them, the skilled swordsman warily lowered his blades but did not sheathe them. Likewise, the witch lowered her staff but nonetheless kept it pointed in my general direction. The difference in power between us was as night and day.

However, I was already taking the time to cast a new spell in this small lull of combat. In an eery raspy voice, the magic laughed in the halls of my mind as it began to take ravenous form in this existence.

Rust came forth, an oily invisible black lightning that shot out with a murderous pace at Muram. It ran across his whole form as it ate into its favorite prey. Tally and Muram’s eyes both widened in shocked surprise as the Dervish’s armor was consumed by the unearthly magic. 

He fell to his knees with a pain-filled scream, dropping his swords to the ground with a clang, as he was burned by his very own armor, the exothermic energies cooking him alive. The smell of roasting pork and burning hair filled the immediate space, overpowering even the stench of the Perfumery as he thrashed about.

It was so easy that it felt almost like cheating.

Larynda looked dumbly on, the horrific display turning her from a combatant into a bystander.

“It cannot be. Fae magics, the eater of the iron weapons of men!” Tally shouted in surprised consternation. For a moment, she looked dumbly at me before screaming her companion's name. 

Blessedly, Muram had stopped screaming long before his Health had reached zero. A notification crossed my vision that I idly dismissed.

Looking at us, and seeing that her companion was already done, she launched balls of energy at the pair of us before turning tail with tear-filled eyes to frantically run away. Still, in a state of shock, Larynda did not move to dodge the balls or energy and I had to block them with my spiked shield. With a small smile, though it did damage to the Mimic’s Health I noticed that the faux tower shield was able to absorb the attack.

Dismissing my shield, I drew my crossbow, placing a fresh bow and cocking it, and summoning new magic. Looking down its sights, I gave my target some lead before I pressed the trigger and let loose an Inferno Bolt. A small amount of Stamina and Mana drained away from me. 

Guided by the spell, the bolt flew for a moment before bursting into an incandescence that left dancing spots across my vision as it sped towards its intended. A scream shortly followed, confirming I had successfully hit my target.

“Not Fae magic. Not in the least,” I stated with calm surety. 

Turning to Larynda, I tried to snap her out of her stupor.

I placed a bloody gauntleted hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly to give some measure of reassurance. “Remember, they attacked us first. We are not at fault,” I asserted, hoping to assuage whatever negative feelings she might have had. It was a lie, but a well-meaning one.

The poor girl nodded dumbly, taking my words for what they were worth. 

Chapter 45 - Rewards

For five generations my family has held back the tides of disease, injury, and death. Until me, we had always ultimately lost. Now, finally, I have achieved an unsteady stalemate and those ignoramuses would have me fall upon my sword.

- an excerpt from the journal of Vincenzio Barbieri.

The majority of all human conflict was born from miscommunication. This was my conclusion as I slung the bloody bundle of rat tails over my shoulder, sighing inwardly at the current state of affairs. Was there no such thing as a friendly, or at least neutral, interaction? Despite the recent tribulations, I was now faced with my favorite part of combat: going over recent gains, and looting.

It was with a note of pleasure that I noticed that both my Rust and Inferno Bolt had increased in level. Two hundred and twenty-five points in experience and an organic gain in Intelligence was the icing on the cake. At just over halfway to my next level, I was pleased, indeed.

As for the loot situation, Muram was a smoking slag heap, his armor still glowing a dull ruined red, and his equipment was unsalvageable, save for the naked Zulfikars that lay next to him. I felt no guilt at taking what I deserved, the swords would be worth a few coins, scabbards or not. Larynda and I quietly wrapped the fine curved steel, before placing them in her pack. The girl had recovered for the most part. In her, I suspected, was the iron that only a hard life could give. That, or she was simply adaptable in the way children were. Either way, it won her a pittance of my respect.

Tally was a different kettle of fish. The Inferno Bolt had struck her lower back, making a cooked and cauterized mess. Her earlier screams testified to a swift, albeit painful, demise. I flipped her corpse over and turned away as I saw her face, contorted in a final cry of anguish. This was the first woman I had ever struck, much less killed. Instead of feeling satisfaction for having dealt with a threat, I felt an overwhelming emptiness. Tally had been a significant danger, more so than Muram, and I couldn't simply let her escape. In a moment of introspection, I realized my weakness had led to her death. If I were truly strong, I wouldn’t have perceived the small woman as a threat at all.

It was a grim milestone. My magic hadn't identified her, so the death notification merely stated that I had ‘slain a human’ for a considerable amount of experience.

Acidic bile rose in my throat as I confronted what I had done. I suppressed it with a determined effort, knowing this was no time for weakness. With a tight-lipped smile, I instructed Larynda to loot Tally for valuables. It wasn’t in me to do the task myself.

I busied myself by pretending to be on the lookout for other threats. Oddly, my thoughts turned to Zariyah and I wondered at what she was doing as I was running about in the sewers. And then Kidu, Cordelia, and Elwin. No doubt the Rogue, Elwin, was up to some manner of mischief.

“This one was loaded, she was! Got a few bits of jewelry on ‘er. Looks like a sapphire and a ruby ring. A silver bracelet… and a bunch of these paper things. The ones you say that are money, like…” intruded Larynda onto my thoughts.

I closed my eyes before I formulated a response, secretly delighted at being an opportunity to educate. “They have value. Their worth is derived by the trust we place in them, and not their material value, like for instance gold. If the majority of people believe a thing to be of value then that becomes the truth of it.”

“So, like, what's to stop ‘em from just making more then?” 

“Nothing in the short term really. But in the long term, well… the people would lose trust in these scraps of paper, and with their loss of trust would also come the loss of their value.”

She mulled this over, rifling through the woman’s corpse before handing me a few notes. Feeling generous, I refused.

“Keep those… you’ve more than earned them. And keep anything else she had on her that might be of value. Isn’t that staff better than yours?”

“You really don’t know? Or you just testing me?”

I shook my head in response.

“To her… it would have been her focus. To you or me, well, it's just a piece of wood with fancy bits on it. Least that’s what the old biddy said. Ain’t you got one? You can use Mana, right?”

I was taken aback by her casual disrespect of the person who had introduced her to the mysteries of her element, but more so to her question. Would it be possible for me to craft one of my own? Or were there class restrictions on usable equipment?

“I don’t know how,” I said, feeling foolish even as the words left my lips.

“Well… don’t know if it's the same and all, but I can tell you how I made one, later if you like,” she beamed pridefully, chest puffed out and her hands proudly on her hips.

I was preparing a snarky response but realized it would do me good. Swallowing my pride I responded politely, “I think I would like that very much, Larynda.”

Her smile grew even wider, and for a moment I imagined I smiled back.

*****

The woman Tally had nearly a gold piece about her person and a few valuable pieces of personal jewelry. Though none of them were magical, they were pretty and, no doubt, quite valuable. Another job for Elwin. In addition, we were able to get two potions of Mana, one of which I gave to Larynda, who gave me a hollow thanks.

She seemed a little out of sorts. Odd, I thought to myself, for the girl had killed before. How was this in any way different, and again, in self-defense no less? 

As we turned to leave I surreptitiously cast Decay on Tally’s corpse, letting Larynda walk on a few paces ahead of me while the magic took root. If there was to be an investigation on the matter, it would help to cover our tracks.

Luckily we encountered neither man nor monster for the rest of our time trudging through the dank sewers. The strain had begun to take its toll on Larynda and we had to often stop for her to catch her breath. I found this particularly annoying, as with my high Constitution, I did not feel tired in the least.

Where we finally exited was quite a ways from where we had initially entered. Close to the western walls, it was an industrial area, and the smoke of its many forges and factories was most unpleasant. A saving grace was that leaving the sewers was infinitely easier than entering. This time, the Perfumed Men gave us nary a second look or even a quick word of inquiry. The bloody bundle of tails draped across my shoulders and the look in my eye might have helped in this.

We next took the time to wash the worst of the sewers off at a public fountain. We exchanged only a few words with each other, our priority being to get some semblance of cleanliness, as soon as possible. The people here all but ignored us, even as the water grew dark and grimy with our accumulated filth. This must have been, if not common, at least not a too rare thing for them to witness. 

For me, it felt like I was washing away the memories of that horrible place. Remembering my communion with the rats, I shuddered and inwardly and vowed to never go down there again.

Except for the part where Larynda unwrapped her headscarf to give it a rinse, the people paid us little attention. Then they truly stared, but a glare from me set most of them quickly about their business. Elves were a rare thing on this continent. It would be good to keep in mind that, even though here was ostensibly a safe haven for her, it would do us no favors for us to advertise her existence. Better to not stick out at all.

A seed of an idea formed, though I doubted she would agree to my suggestion. Her human genes were strong, and if not for her ears, she could pass off as just another young girl. If I could use my magic and knife, I could solve this problem, albeit crudely. She would thank me later.

I smiled at her as we finally washed off the worst of the muck, and she gave me a wan smile in return. The smell of our latest adventure still lingered but a good soak in a proper bath would sort that out once we returned to the inn.

Our next stop was the Adventurer’s Guild. Thankfully, the citizens of the city of Al-Lazar kept their distance, only giving the occasional wrinkled nose and looks of disgust. Oddly, on the way, my experience rose by a single point for seemingly no reason at all. Was I gaining experience points by simply existing? Perish the thought.

Arriving at our destination, we made quite an entrance as I dumped the whole bundle of tails down onto a designated marble counter with a heavy thud. Aldina, the freckled clerk who had taken down our details before and provided us with our map, looked positively anxious at the collection of tails. Apart from wrinkling her nose briefly at us, her manner was polite. 

“Even if I had ten mouths I would have no words to say. You have already finished!” she squeaked in surprised disbelief. “This was meant to take a few days at least… no group has ever done it in a day…”

“I guess we were lucky,” I replied without missing a beat. For a woman who, but scant moments ago, professed to be tongue-tied, she was surprisingly loquacious. I could almost hear Larynda’s rolling eyes.

“It’s been a long day. Just give us our money,” the half-elf barked out of character. 

“Manners. No need to be rude. The woman is just doing her job,” I chided the girl. Larynda simply shrugged and I had to fight an urge to…….  

“Of course. Of course,” the mousy clerk answered quickly, nodding as she counted out our payment. At nine silver pieces, it was not a bad haul for less than a day’s work.

“Thank you,”  I replied brusquely, returning the map of the sewers to her. “And apologies for my ward’s manners.”

“No matter at all… I can’t imagine what you must have gone through to have finished so quickly. Since you were able to do it so quickly… I’ve given you a bonus silver. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“A quick question. Will this go some way also to improving our rank? I believe I have succeeded in three tasks already with the Guild, but not exactly at this branch. At the Ansan branch, I have fulfilled several tasks already. Will that be taken into consideration? I feel that Copper does not suit a man of my caliber.” 

“Oh, yes! Most certainly! I can make a request to check the records but it might take a good while. Still, keep this up and Bronze should be…” she bubbled excitedly, her enthusiasm clear for all to see.

I interrupted her. “Yes, but is there… perhaps a faster way? A faster way for one of my potential,” I added, placing one of the silver notes back onto the counter. With our payment now an even number, it would be easier to split our earnings.

Quick as a fish, her pale hand darted forward and the note disappeared into the folds of her puffy sleeves.

Aldina pursed her lips for a moment. “I will see that the proper eyes take note of this achievement,” she bowed graciously, before glancing at Larynda, “On this girl's first day of registration, too… Hmm, if you were to officially challenge someone at least two ranks higher you could get promoted, if you were to win. You’ll need an appointment with the Guild Master first though, to sort that out. But I would not recommend that, as our Silvers are exceptionally skilled…” I mentally chuckled at this description. 

“Or you can do well in the upcoming Festival. That goes quite a long as it helps promote the Guild’s reputation,” she explained.

Inside, I was seething slightly as the woman didn't quite grasp the significance of the money I had just used. Likely she just saw that it was a form of tip. I didn't need commonly available information; I needed to know which wheels to grease to fast-track my promotion.

“I see, I was planning on joining this Festival. Where can one find the rules and information for this event?”

“The Festival will be held at the square near the Dome in two weeks’ time. I can register you if you like. As for the rules, you can read them here,” she suggested helpfully, handing over a thin wooden slate inscribed with a series of characters for my perusal. 

“If you can not read, I can have someone…” She left the offer hanging.

“That will not be necessary. I can read well enough,” I said with a tight smile.

“Of course. Is there anything else?”

“Yes,” Larynda chimed in, “There any prizes for the Festival?”

“There most certainly are! There are monetary awards for those who finish in the higher brackets. And a grand prize for the winner, awarded by the Council. And the acclaim of doing well will go a long way toward a promotion!”

“Sounds right fancy then,” cooed the girl. 

“Oh, and when are you usually on duty?” I inquired of Aldina as casually as I could, wanting to make the very most of my silver. I was surprised to see Larynda shooting me a dirty look. 

“Every day, save for the Urd Saba!” she squeaked in reply, playing with an errant strand of hair. 

“Oh before I forget, there is a package and missive for you, Gilgamesh, from our resident Alchemist. Master Barbierri. I shall fetch it right away. Please wait a few moments and I will be right back!” She beamed at me before disappearing into a backroom.

I mulled over her words and felt a vague pang of pity. Urd Saba in the local nomenclature was the 7th day, if I was not mistaken, and the girl was working a dreaded six-day week.

Despite the freckled girl being slightly high-strung, I commended her manner, for, apart from wrinkling her nose briefly at us, she had been polite.