A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 3: Chapter 41: Small World

Book 3: 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.

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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