chapter 11
previous chapter
Ancient One sat quietly in a dark, quiet corner of the tavern. This tavern was called the Raven's Nest, as proudly proclaimed by a crudely carved sign hanging over the entrance, and it was located somewhere in the lower cesspits of the Undercity. The other patrons sat quietly nursing their drinks, and there was a distinct atmosphere of dread in here. This was the kind of tavern nobody in their right mind would enter, because there is a really low possibility of walking out again once you step through the door. Little candles burned dimly, creating a mind-bending play of shadows and candle-light on the tavern's walls.
On the table in front of Ancient One was a tall mug of an unidentifiable alcoholic drink. The alcohol was so strong that it appeared to be eating holes in the mug, and as it leaked out of those holes it corroded the table as well. Fortunately, Ancient One was not here to drink: he was here to listen.
Two hooded men sat nearby, half-hidden in the flickering shadows of the candles. They were whispering rapidly, and there was a hint of terror in their voices. In fact, Ancient One realised that there was a harmonic of fear everywhere in the Undercity tonight: in its gutters and its dirty streets, on the rooftops and in the dark alleyways. The denizens of the Undercity were like rats: they could smell trouble coming from a mile away, and were smart enough to get the hell away before it arrived. Judging from what he has seen so far, something big was going on in the Undercity tonight, and everyone was frightened.
He eavesdropped intently on the whispering voices. The rumour mill in the Undercity was very efficient when it comes to spreading news, but more often than not, the further it spreads, the more distorted the news. With every retelling, new details are added for dramatic effect, some details deemed inconvenient are removed, and as the rumour spreads it told a completely different story every time. But always, there is a grain of truth hidden somewhere inside the rumours, if you dig deep enough.
Over at the bar, the bartender was locking up his chest of money, and carefully moving the more expensive drinks into the cellar. Trouble in the Undercity was always bad for business, and it never hurts to take precautions. The bartender usually had a reassuringly big axe under the bar for dealing with difficult customers, but just to be safe, he now had TWO big axes, as well as a loaded crossbow and several meat cleavers safely hidden under the bar counter.
Ancient One sighed and continued to listen, hoping the others were having more luck than he was.
* * * * *
Cantrip opened his eyes when he felt someone kicking his ribs.
The first thing he saw was a lot of skin. A lot of female skin, to be exact. Smooth, fair, female skin. Actually, his entire vision was obscured by what appeared to be female thighs. There was also a fragrant smell that somehow reminded him of flowers, with a slight hint of peppermint at the edges. And somewhere in his field of vision were dark brown bits of leather too.
"Are you an angel?" mumbled Cantrip groggily. His brain was still getting up to speed with current events, and right now it was as coherent as a brick. Somewhere in the back of his head, an important memory was determinedly tugging at his brain to make itself heard, but he couldn't remember what it exactly it was. "Only thing is, I heard angels are supposed to have great big wings or something, not skimpy leather outfits. Not that I'm complaining, of course," he added hurriedly.
Someone kicked his ribs again, and it hurt. "I think you'd better get up," said a distant voice that sounded a lot like Seraph's. Cantrip's brain kicked into second gear, and he sat up.
Peering at him with a look of amusement on her face was the girl who had been tied to a pole the last time Cantrip had seen her. She was kneeling down next to him, and then Cantrip remembered where he was. He gazed up at the platform, eight feet above, and was silently amazed that he survived the drop. Fortunately the ground he had landed on was quite literally a mattress of dust: if he had landed on some sharp rocks, he would probably be finding out what real angels looked like.
Cantrip winced. Seraph was squatting a few feet away, cautiously poking what appeared to be a large pile of ashes, vaguely human shaped. In the middle of the room was the runic circle, and in the middle of that was an empty pole.
"Hullo there kid, my name's Penelope. What's yours?" asked the girl, extending a slender hand in his direction. She appeared to be grinning.
"Er, I don't know, but my friends call me Cantrip," answered Cantrip, and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, I guess."
Both of them turned to look at Seraph, who was shaking his head and muttering darkly. "It's really weird.. it really turned into ashes..." Cantrip stared at the pile of grey soot, and realised that it was the remains of the dreaded metal creature.
"How'd you do that?" asked Cantrip, eyes wide.
"Hm? Do what?" Seraph turned, shaken from his thoughts. "This? I didn't... I'm pretty sure the needles killed it, but last I checked, they don't have turning-people-into-ashes properties. Not that I know of anyway."
"What needles?" asked Cantrip, puzzled.
Seraph explained everything that had happened after Cantrip fell off the platform."...and then, I cut Penelope down from the pole. And that's about it, really... it's really strange, I've never seen any creatures like this one," concluded Seraph. He gave the pile of ashes a kick. "Well, let's figure out a way to get out of here."
"Why not just go back up the way you came?" Penelope asked. Cantrip noticed that she had taken several of Seraph's shiny daggers and stuck them into her belt.
"The Watch will be waiting there, and I'm not eager to get myself killed yet," replied Seraph drily. He began examining the stone walls for another exit.
"Oh don't be such a wuss!" said Penelope, and she gave a smile that sent shivers down Cantrip's spine. "The Watchmen won't be a problem."
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, they were back on the streets.
Several Watchmen had drawn their swords when the three of them appeared at the top of the hole, and then Cantrip had been shocked at how quickly Penelope moved. She practically flew towards the stunned Watchmen and before they could react, she expertly slammed the blunt end of the dagger somewhere where it hurt. And judging by the strangled sounds the Watchmen made after she was done, it must have hurt a lot.
They fled through the roads of the City, heading for one of Seraph's safehouses. Once the doors had been securely locked and bolted, they heaved a sigh of relief.
Seraph turned to Cantrip. "Okay kid, the good news is, the Watchmen probably didn't have time to see our faces, but we'd better lay low here for a while, just in case." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "And tomorrow morning, I'll bring you to the old man. It's been nice hanging out with you and all, but business is business, after all."
Cantrip sighed and nodded. "Er.. can't you give me a clue on the identity of this mysterious employer of yours?" he asked hopefully.
Seraph thought for a while and shook his head. "Don't worry, you'll find out tomorrow. But he's really really rich... and I do wonder why he's willing to pay so much to find you." He paused and stared thoughtfully at Cantrip's tattooed arm. "Er.. that doesn't happen to be some top secret map to some location holding treasures of untold value, right?"
"Not that I know of. I've had it for as long as I could remember, though," replied Cantrip, and scratched the tattoo. "Sometimes it itches."
Seraph shrugged. "Whatever it is, I think you'll find out soon enough." He turned to Penelope and smirked. "A fine mess you got yourself into this time, eh? Fortunately, I came across this contract on your head and got you out of there first."
Penelope scowled. "Alright, so I got careless! The guy was really annoying me, and I was in a bad mood."
"Well the good news is, merchants are very flexible people when money is involved. The Guildmaster says he'll drop the contract upon, and I quote, 'repayment of the financial value lost due to the untimely demise of our esteemed colleague, the late Mr Bailey, approximately amounting to $250,000'. Only problem is, where in the world are you going to find that much money? And how did you end up in that chamber anyway?" asked Seraph.
"Are you insane? $250,000?! Crap.... I thought $15,000 or so might've covered it," Penelope bit her lip. "And as for the chamber, there was a rumour among the locals saying it was haunted by some weird creature, so I decided to check it out. You know, in case there's a big pile of treasure lying somewhere inside," she added airily.
"Wait.. let me guess. Then you lost to the metal creature too, eh?"
"Metal creature? Nope, never met any. Last thing I remember was walking into that chamber, and then everything went black. Next thing I knew, you were cutting me down from that pole."
"You never met any spiky, super strong, super fast metal monsters then?" asked a surprised Seraph.
"Not that I know of."
"Hey... are you a bounty hunter too?" interrupted Cantrip.
"Who me? Of course... guess who taught Mr Loopelberry here everything he knows about bounty hunting?" Penelope grinned again, and pinched Seraph's cheeks playfully. Seraph's ears began to redden. "I ran into a bit of trouble a while back with the Merchant's Guild, and was forced to go on the run. But not to worry, I'm sure Seraph here will settle everything. Isn't that right, Mr Loopelberry?"
"You know I hate it when you call me that..." grumbled Seraph. "But yea, I'll figure something out. In the meantime, we'd better keep this kid alive. The price on his head would go a long way towards repaying your debt with the Guild."
"Glad to be of help..." muttered Cantrip weakly. "But er, I'm not REALLY going to die right?"
"Who knows? Rich people are notoriously eccentric," shrugged Seraph. "Now let's get some sleep, it's been a long day and we'll need to set off early tomorrow morning."
* * * * *
Far above, at the peak of the Spire, something strange was happening. Sudden, random discharges of magical energy began to erupt from a strangely shaped stone within the Ancient's empty fortress. The stone was rectangular in shape, and vibrated in the wind. Right now, it was also bathed in a mixture of strangely coloured lights as the unstable magical energy filled the room, and outside, the vortex of clouds began to darken and expand.
next chapter
Ancient One sat quietly in a dark, quiet corner of the tavern. This tavern was called the Raven's Nest, as proudly proclaimed by a crudely carved sign hanging over the entrance, and it was located somewhere in the lower cesspits of the Undercity. The other patrons sat quietly nursing their drinks, and there was a distinct atmosphere of dread in here. This was the kind of tavern nobody in their right mind would enter, because there is a really low possibility of walking out again once you step through the door. Little candles burned dimly, creating a mind-bending play of shadows and candle-light on the tavern's walls.
On the table in front of Ancient One was a tall mug of an unidentifiable alcoholic drink. The alcohol was so strong that it appeared to be eating holes in the mug, and as it leaked out of those holes it corroded the table as well. Fortunately, Ancient One was not here to drink: he was here to listen.
Two hooded men sat nearby, half-hidden in the flickering shadows of the candles. They were whispering rapidly, and there was a hint of terror in their voices. In fact, Ancient One realised that there was a harmonic of fear everywhere in the Undercity tonight: in its gutters and its dirty streets, on the rooftops and in the dark alleyways. The denizens of the Undercity were like rats: they could smell trouble coming from a mile away, and were smart enough to get the hell away before it arrived. Judging from what he has seen so far, something big was going on in the Undercity tonight, and everyone was frightened.
He eavesdropped intently on the whispering voices. The rumour mill in the Undercity was very efficient when it comes to spreading news, but more often than not, the further it spreads, the more distorted the news. With every retelling, new details are added for dramatic effect, some details deemed inconvenient are removed, and as the rumour spreads it told a completely different story every time. But always, there is a grain of truth hidden somewhere inside the rumours, if you dig deep enough.
Over at the bar, the bartender was locking up his chest of money, and carefully moving the more expensive drinks into the cellar. Trouble in the Undercity was always bad for business, and it never hurts to take precautions. The bartender usually had a reassuringly big axe under the bar for dealing with difficult customers, but just to be safe, he now had TWO big axes, as well as a loaded crossbow and several meat cleavers safely hidden under the bar counter.
Ancient One sighed and continued to listen, hoping the others were having more luck than he was.
* * * * *
Cantrip opened his eyes when he felt someone kicking his ribs.
The first thing he saw was a lot of skin. A lot of female skin, to be exact. Smooth, fair, female skin. Actually, his entire vision was obscured by what appeared to be female thighs. There was also a fragrant smell that somehow reminded him of flowers, with a slight hint of peppermint at the edges. And somewhere in his field of vision were dark brown bits of leather too.
"Are you an angel?" mumbled Cantrip groggily. His brain was still getting up to speed with current events, and right now it was as coherent as a brick. Somewhere in the back of his head, an important memory was determinedly tugging at his brain to make itself heard, but he couldn't remember what it exactly it was. "Only thing is, I heard angels are supposed to have great big wings or something, not skimpy leather outfits. Not that I'm complaining, of course," he added hurriedly.
Someone kicked his ribs again, and it hurt. "I think you'd better get up," said a distant voice that sounded a lot like Seraph's. Cantrip's brain kicked into second gear, and he sat up.
Peering at him with a look of amusement on her face was the girl who had been tied to a pole the last time Cantrip had seen her. She was kneeling down next to him, and then Cantrip remembered where he was. He gazed up at the platform, eight feet above, and was silently amazed that he survived the drop. Fortunately the ground he had landed on was quite literally a mattress of dust: if he had landed on some sharp rocks, he would probably be finding out what real angels looked like.
Cantrip winced. Seraph was squatting a few feet away, cautiously poking what appeared to be a large pile of ashes, vaguely human shaped. In the middle of the room was the runic circle, and in the middle of that was an empty pole.
"Hullo there kid, my name's Penelope. What's yours?" asked the girl, extending a slender hand in his direction. She appeared to be grinning.
"Er, I don't know, but my friends call me Cantrip," answered Cantrip, and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, I guess."
Both of them turned to look at Seraph, who was shaking his head and muttering darkly. "It's really weird.. it really turned into ashes..." Cantrip stared at the pile of grey soot, and realised that it was the remains of the dreaded metal creature.
"How'd you do that?" asked Cantrip, eyes wide.
"Hm? Do what?" Seraph turned, shaken from his thoughts. "This? I didn't... I'm pretty sure the needles killed it, but last I checked, they don't have turning-people-into-ashes properties. Not that I know of anyway."
"What needles?" asked Cantrip, puzzled.
Seraph explained everything that had happened after Cantrip fell off the platform."...and then, I cut Penelope down from the pole. And that's about it, really... it's really strange, I've never seen any creatures like this one," concluded Seraph. He gave the pile of ashes a kick. "Well, let's figure out a way to get out of here."
"Why not just go back up the way you came?" Penelope asked. Cantrip noticed that she had taken several of Seraph's shiny daggers and stuck them into her belt.
"The Watch will be waiting there, and I'm not eager to get myself killed yet," replied Seraph drily. He began examining the stone walls for another exit.
"Oh don't be such a wuss!" said Penelope, and she gave a smile that sent shivers down Cantrip's spine. "The Watchmen won't be a problem."
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, they were back on the streets.
Several Watchmen had drawn their swords when the three of them appeared at the top of the hole, and then Cantrip had been shocked at how quickly Penelope moved. She practically flew towards the stunned Watchmen and before they could react, she expertly slammed the blunt end of the dagger somewhere where it hurt. And judging by the strangled sounds the Watchmen made after she was done, it must have hurt a lot.
They fled through the roads of the City, heading for one of Seraph's safehouses. Once the doors had been securely locked and bolted, they heaved a sigh of relief.
Seraph turned to Cantrip. "Okay kid, the good news is, the Watchmen probably didn't have time to see our faces, but we'd better lay low here for a while, just in case." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "And tomorrow morning, I'll bring you to the old man. It's been nice hanging out with you and all, but business is business, after all."
Cantrip sighed and nodded. "Er.. can't you give me a clue on the identity of this mysterious employer of yours?" he asked hopefully.
Seraph thought for a while and shook his head. "Don't worry, you'll find out tomorrow. But he's really really rich... and I do wonder why he's willing to pay so much to find you." He paused and stared thoughtfully at Cantrip's tattooed arm. "Er.. that doesn't happen to be some top secret map to some location holding treasures of untold value, right?"
"Not that I know of. I've had it for as long as I could remember, though," replied Cantrip, and scratched the tattoo. "Sometimes it itches."
Seraph shrugged. "Whatever it is, I think you'll find out soon enough." He turned to Penelope and smirked. "A fine mess you got yourself into this time, eh? Fortunately, I came across this contract on your head and got you out of there first."
Penelope scowled. "Alright, so I got careless! The guy was really annoying me, and I was in a bad mood."
"Well the good news is, merchants are very flexible people when money is involved. The Guildmaster says he'll drop the contract upon, and I quote, 'repayment of the financial value lost due to the untimely demise of our esteemed colleague, the late Mr Bailey, approximately amounting to $250,000'. Only problem is, where in the world are you going to find that much money? And how did you end up in that chamber anyway?" asked Seraph.
"Are you insane? $250,000?! Crap.... I thought $15,000 or so might've covered it," Penelope bit her lip. "And as for the chamber, there was a rumour among the locals saying it was haunted by some weird creature, so I decided to check it out. You know, in case there's a big pile of treasure lying somewhere inside," she added airily.
"Wait.. let me guess. Then you lost to the metal creature too, eh?"
"Metal creature? Nope, never met any. Last thing I remember was walking into that chamber, and then everything went black. Next thing I knew, you were cutting me down from that pole."
"You never met any spiky, super strong, super fast metal monsters then?" asked a surprised Seraph.
"Not that I know of."
"Hey... are you a bounty hunter too?" interrupted Cantrip.
"Who me? Of course... guess who taught Mr Loopelberry here everything he knows about bounty hunting?" Penelope grinned again, and pinched Seraph's cheeks playfully. Seraph's ears began to redden. "I ran into a bit of trouble a while back with the Merchant's Guild, and was forced to go on the run. But not to worry, I'm sure Seraph here will settle everything. Isn't that right, Mr Loopelberry?"
"You know I hate it when you call me that..." grumbled Seraph. "But yea, I'll figure something out. In the meantime, we'd better keep this kid alive. The price on his head would go a long way towards repaying your debt with the Guild."
"Glad to be of help..." muttered Cantrip weakly. "But er, I'm not REALLY going to die right?"
"Who knows? Rich people are notoriously eccentric," shrugged Seraph. "Now let's get some sleep, it's been a long day and we'll need to set off early tomorrow morning."
* * * * *
Far above, at the peak of the Spire, something strange was happening. Sudden, random discharges of magical energy began to erupt from a strangely shaped stone within the Ancient's empty fortress. The stone was rectangular in shape, and vibrated in the wind. Right now, it was also bathed in a mixture of strangely coloured lights as the unstable magical energy filled the room, and outside, the vortex of clouds began to darken and expand.
next chapter
posted by nerdook at 11:01 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home