The morning started out not quite like he had imagined it and not really like he had wanted it to, namely, he overslept. This hadn’t happened to Toast in weeks and he was resenting the fact that it had to be today. So many things that needed taking care of before he was going to meet Darrik and now far too little time to do it all in. Leaving aside anything else that did not matter, Toast immediately ran to Spike’s, bread roll in hand, only to find that Spike was out. Thankfully, his friend had thought about leaving a note pinned to his door for Toast, telling him that he was already out in the sewers checking the system, step by step the way they had done the previous day.
Racing through the streets, with his untouched bread roll still in hand, Toast hoped that his backpack still contained all that he needed for a trip into the sewers, in case that was where they really would have to go today. He couldn’t remember having taken anything out, but with his luck today, he wouldn’t be surprised if something was missing after all, though he really really hoped that was not the case. Why, oh why did he have to oversleep?
“Spike, you’re a lifesaver! Have you found anything so far?” The gnome said by way of greeting when he found his friend on the third robot already.
Spike grinned in return and shook his head. “Just about to check this one, but the other two showed nothing, just like yesterday. Oh, and, would you look at that. This one picked up on something again last night. I’ll definitely have to come up with something to refine this a little. I want to know if it’s the same creature running past or if it’s someone else every night. If this is the same person triggering the system than yesterday, you might have the pattern you were looking for.”
“It’s just one entrance, it may mean nothing,” Toast said, rather to keep himself from putting his hopes up too much again then to soothe Spike’s excitement. The gnome was really enjoying this and Toast didn’t want to ruin the fun for him.
“Have you heard of anyone else? Has anyone seen anything?”
His friend shook his head at this. “Not from what I’ve heard. But not many have been around yesterday either. Might want to talk to Padlock, he’s been working crazy long hours in the sewers lately.”
Toast nodded absentmindedly. “Will do so later. I’m late as it is.”
The fourth robot gave nothing again and with a hurried thanks to Spike, young Fountainbloomer the Fourth dashed off at full speed towards Headquarters where Darrik was most likely already waiting for him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he panted when he arrived. “I overslept, for crying out loud. Have you been waiting long?”
Shadows from the Sewers
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik hauled himself out of bed. The dwarf's sleep had been unsettled, but nowhere near so bad as the previous night, so it was a comparatively well-rested guard who put on his special pair of knee-high leather wading boots and leather breeches. The latter were an inspiration from a troupe of performers Darrik had seen in his youth, hailing from a southern Thar, who in one display had wrestled in oil wearing breeches of a similar kind. Whilst there was still a risk of wet and and reeking feet if he wasn't careful, it would be a lot easier to clean himself afterwards, and that was the main point.
The gear Darrik used for sewer trawling left the dwarf feeling damn underdressed. He didn't particularly like being out of full uniform. The dwarf guard felt bloody unprofessional without a full layer of city-made steel around him. But the sewers were a bad place to go tromping around in covered in metal plates. So for today Darrik merely had his breastplate and gorget on. The guard had his warhammer and buckler with him, of course, but he'd also hooked his butcher's cleaver and knife to his belt along with a coil of stout cord. Just in case. Darrik also had several small bottles of dwarven ale, wrapped in some calico courtesy of Fredrik, stuffed in his satchel. The dwarf hoped that he'd have cause to hand over some of them over to Gladrags.
Once again, Darrik made a point of coming early into the Guard HQ, to leave a message with the clerks to say he was on duty. The now-familiar sight of the dwarf's leather waders was enough to clue in the clerks as to the nature of the dwarf's work that day. Darrik was helpfully advised that he'd be given special dispensation not to report back in at the end of the day if he didn't get the chance. A subtle hint the despatch office didn't want their office tainted by the city's sewers.
When Toast arrived, slightly late, Darrik merely commented "And here I thought I'd be the strangest sight of the morning. I tell you Toast, the reason I have a habit of waking up early is because it is damn undignified for a dwarf to be seen hurrying." The dwarf grinned "Turns out, the same goes for gnomes. Catch your breath, then we'll head down to old city and find Gladrags."
When Toast did catch his breath, Darrik set off, asking his partner "While we're on the way, did you get the chance t'check with that gnome Spike with his observation technowhatsits? And have you got those handy little lightmaking tubethings of yours with you? Just in case?" The dwarf guard would listen to Toast's report on the way, barring any need for a detour, until they reached the section of the shanty town where the flotsam shifters tended to congregate.
The gear Darrik used for sewer trawling left the dwarf feeling damn underdressed. He didn't particularly like being out of full uniform. The dwarf guard felt bloody unprofessional without a full layer of city-made steel around him. But the sewers were a bad place to go tromping around in covered in metal plates. So for today Darrik merely had his breastplate and gorget on. The guard had his warhammer and buckler with him, of course, but he'd also hooked his butcher's cleaver and knife to his belt along with a coil of stout cord. Just in case. Darrik also had several small bottles of dwarven ale, wrapped in some calico courtesy of Fredrik, stuffed in his satchel. The dwarf hoped that he'd have cause to hand over some of them over to Gladrags.
Once again, Darrik made a point of coming early into the Guard HQ, to leave a message with the clerks to say he was on duty. The now-familiar sight of the dwarf's leather waders was enough to clue in the clerks as to the nature of the dwarf's work that day. Darrik was helpfully advised that he'd be given special dispensation not to report back in at the end of the day if he didn't get the chance. A subtle hint the despatch office didn't want their office tainted by the city's sewers.
When Toast arrived, slightly late, Darrik merely commented "And here I thought I'd be the strangest sight of the morning. I tell you Toast, the reason I have a habit of waking up early is because it is damn undignified for a dwarf to be seen hurrying." The dwarf grinned "Turns out, the same goes for gnomes. Catch your breath, then we'll head down to old city and find Gladrags."
When Toast did catch his breath, Darrik set off, asking his partner "While we're on the way, did you get the chance t'check with that gnome Spike with his observation technowhatsits? And have you got those handy little lightmaking tubethings of yours with you? Just in case?" The dwarf guard would listen to Toast's report on the way, barring any need for a detour, until they reached the section of the shanty town where the flotsam shifters tended to congregate.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Toast laughed out loud at Darrik’s greeting comment, though it came out more as a puff than a laugh as he was trying to catch his breath. “Well there you go! Might not have been dignified but it was necessary. But it’s all behind me now, no more rush, no more hurry. And next time I’ll just walk.” He winked at the dwarf, shaking his head as he thought about this some more, but pushed the thoughts out of sight.
Taking a look at Darrik’s gear, he nodded with a pleased look on his face. “This will do quite nicely,” he commented, “though I’m not too sure about your boots. Are they waterproof?” But it didn’t matter all too much in the end. If Darrik wanted something done about it, Toast would fiddle. If not, well then the dwarf would have to fiddle.
While they were walking to find Gladrags, Toast gladly replied to his partner’s question. “Of course it was only briefly that I spoke to him this morning, but here has been no activity again tonight, nothing that triggered the robots at their height that is, except for the same one as last night. So either we have someone who sneaks in for whatever reason but who doesn’t have anything to do with our investigation. Or we really do have a pointer as to which entry to the sewers is the most likely to be used by the fiends. “It’s definitely close to an abduction site but I can’t quite recall whose. I will have to go over the reports again for it.” Of course, now that he knew there was a hole in his knowledge, he was itching to read the reports straight away because it bugged him that he couldn’t recall who had been abducted in that area. Had it been Hyacinth?
“But yes, all set with my light tubes. I’ve got a few in my backpack. I’ve rechecked those twice this morning even if I barely had time to eat my breakfast while running.” Toast made a mental note not to do that again. It had only been a bread roll but it was having a serious argument with his stomach and he wasn’t sure yet who was going to win out on that one. “Any news on your end? More mysterious hints or messages? Did you get a chance to read through the new-old reports?” He was aware that it had only been a few hours of night time in between them meeting but one never knew, right?
Taking a look at Darrik’s gear, he nodded with a pleased look on his face. “This will do quite nicely,” he commented, “though I’m not too sure about your boots. Are they waterproof?” But it didn’t matter all too much in the end. If Darrik wanted something done about it, Toast would fiddle. If not, well then the dwarf would have to fiddle.
While they were walking to find Gladrags, Toast gladly replied to his partner’s question. “Of course it was only briefly that I spoke to him this morning, but here has been no activity again tonight, nothing that triggered the robots at their height that is, except for the same one as last night. So either we have someone who sneaks in for whatever reason but who doesn’t have anything to do with our investigation. Or we really do have a pointer as to which entry to the sewers is the most likely to be used by the fiends. “It’s definitely close to an abduction site but I can’t quite recall whose. I will have to go over the reports again for it.” Of course, now that he knew there was a hole in his knowledge, he was itching to read the reports straight away because it bugged him that he couldn’t recall who had been abducted in that area. Had it been Hyacinth?
“But yes, all set with my light tubes. I’ve got a few in my backpack. I’ve rechecked those twice this morning even if I barely had time to eat my breakfast while running.” Toast made a mental note not to do that again. It had only been a bread roll but it was having a serious argument with his stomach and he wasn’t sure yet who was going to win out on that one. “Any news on your end? More mysterious hints or messages? Did you get a chance to read through the new-old reports?” He was aware that it had only been a few hours of night time in between them meeting but one never knew, right?
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik grumbled in good natured fashion "They keep me feet mostly dry, but too long down there and the muck starts to seep in. I won't be averse to giving them a shot at your waterproofing treatment, Toast, if that's what you mean. Dry feet are a blimmin' luxury, I have discovered." As Toast remarked on his friend Spike's weird devices and what they were turning up, the dwarf nodded "I reckon this afternoon'd be a good time to sit ourselves down an' go over that map of yours again." Other than that, Darrik had nothing new to report to the gnome, and said as much. He'd decided on an early night to clear his head a bit, give himself a fresher perspective, or at least that was how he'd justified it. Honestly, though, the dwarf had just needed the damn rest.
When the pair eventually reached the enclosure of Gladrags and his motley assortment of derelict colleagues, Darrik called out. "Hoy, Gladrags. Do I owe you a beer yet?" The dwarf guard let his gaze wander over the semi-enclosed assortment of shanties as he waited. Something seemed awry, a different kind of ambience to the place. Like if a bloke visited his friends and could tell they'd been havin' a row just from the tension in the air. Darrik couldn't quite put his finger on it, but when Gladrags came out, the shabby flotsam shifter's shuffling gate seemed a bit less frenetic than usual. The voice, however, remained its normal homage to victims of cut throats and lung damage "Well well well the short straw we drew has returned in dwarfish form" A hacking cough "...and we the many are fewer for his pleasure, so you tell me." An encore of erupting lungs was followed by a wad of yellow phlegm being spat upon the ground "Tell me indeed, Guard Darrik, is barley blood and blood barley that the drinking be done with good will?" Both of Gladrags' grey eyes locked onto the dwarf.
Darrik furrowed his brow. Gladrags was a difficult bastard to understand at the best of times, but the dwarf knew a tone of hostility when he heard one, which was bloody well out of character for the wretched sewer crawler. Darrik swiftly quickly reviewed the main oddities of Gladrags' gibbering. Short straw, fewer, blood. Given what he'd asked them to do, the dwarf felt a sinking feeling in his stomach along with a strange elation. Speaking carefully, with a subtle hand motion to Toast to stay quiet a moment, Darrik navigated through the potential field of pitfalls presented to him "You've found somethin', and in return, somethin' found you. And it didn't end well. Am I on the mark?" Gladrags' eyes remained locked on the dwarf, which Darrik took as a sign he was. So he asked outright. "How many dead, Gladrags. Where were they lookin' when they died? It'll be blood for blood, and barley for tears. A better deal, I'm thinking." It was unnerving, conversing with the flotsam shifter. For all one could peg the drunken trashpicker as a lunatic, the lunatic had a way of making a person speak in the same damn fashion. Like a verbal disease transmitted through conversation.
Gladrags spat, then nodded. "One's blood shed, in the north and the east in the old and offwise to Ofriyu. One's body, and then Two's body, not far from the One's. Two's being she you called the Whore. A flower in fertiliser fertilising in truth." Darrik should not have been surprised that even good news would be surrounded with a veritable cesspit of bad news. Gladrags losing a companion on a task the dwarf had set would put a strain on the relationship, no questions asked. The dwarf would have to play it carefully for a month or three, be a bit more generous for a while. And if he'd gauged truly what Gladrags meant, it had been in the older, mostly abandoned run-off tunnels which led to the Ofriyu in that section halfway between the ruins and the asylum. Teodinus wept. Dark and treacherous, not as frequently maintained save to prevent a buildup of blockage, they were an unpleasant part of a place already, by definition, shitty to begin with.
Darrik pulled the cloth-wrapped collection of bottles from his satchel. "They're all yours, to share and share alike. But before you start, help Toast here figure out which part of the sewer your mate died in, and we'll head in and see what we can find. If we're lucky, I can add another rathead to your collection." Darrik's superiors had not been amused when he'd presented the head of the first orcrat he'd ever encountered as proof of a successful mission. As a result, he'd passed it on to Gladrags who'd somehow discerned some means of profit from the accursed thing. Darrik didn't ask at the time, because Darrik hadn't wanted to know then, and still didn't want to know now.
Darrik would let Toast and Gladrags somehow figure out a way to communicate the esoteric notion of 'location' within the older sewers in the historic district, and only once Toast gave him a sign that he was good to go would Darrik nod and say "Right then. No time like the present if we want a chance to get at those bodies." Darrik paused, realising he'd forgotten a crucial detail. Changer's curse, but this was going to be an arse of a day. "We're goin' to need a couple of large canvas bags an' some rope. I'll make those arrangements, and if you've forgotten anything that you might need, such as them dartguns and shieldwhatsits, now's a good time t'go pick 'em up. I'll meet you by whichever entrance you reckon is the way t'go in an hour."
When the pair eventually reached the enclosure of Gladrags and his motley assortment of derelict colleagues, Darrik called out. "Hoy, Gladrags. Do I owe you a beer yet?" The dwarf guard let his gaze wander over the semi-enclosed assortment of shanties as he waited. Something seemed awry, a different kind of ambience to the place. Like if a bloke visited his friends and could tell they'd been havin' a row just from the tension in the air. Darrik couldn't quite put his finger on it, but when Gladrags came out, the shabby flotsam shifter's shuffling gate seemed a bit less frenetic than usual. The voice, however, remained its normal homage to victims of cut throats and lung damage "Well well well the short straw we drew has returned in dwarfish form" A hacking cough "...and we the many are fewer for his pleasure, so you tell me." An encore of erupting lungs was followed by a wad of yellow phlegm being spat upon the ground "Tell me indeed, Guard Darrik, is barley blood and blood barley that the drinking be done with good will?" Both of Gladrags' grey eyes locked onto the dwarf.
Darrik furrowed his brow. Gladrags was a difficult bastard to understand at the best of times, but the dwarf knew a tone of hostility when he heard one, which was bloody well out of character for the wretched sewer crawler. Darrik swiftly quickly reviewed the main oddities of Gladrags' gibbering. Short straw, fewer, blood. Given what he'd asked them to do, the dwarf felt a sinking feeling in his stomach along with a strange elation. Speaking carefully, with a subtle hand motion to Toast to stay quiet a moment, Darrik navigated through the potential field of pitfalls presented to him "You've found somethin', and in return, somethin' found you. And it didn't end well. Am I on the mark?" Gladrags' eyes remained locked on the dwarf, which Darrik took as a sign he was. So he asked outright. "How many dead, Gladrags. Where were they lookin' when they died? It'll be blood for blood, and barley for tears. A better deal, I'm thinking." It was unnerving, conversing with the flotsam shifter. For all one could peg the drunken trashpicker as a lunatic, the lunatic had a way of making a person speak in the same damn fashion. Like a verbal disease transmitted through conversation.
Gladrags spat, then nodded. "One's blood shed, in the north and the east in the old and offwise to Ofriyu. One's body, and then Two's body, not far from the One's. Two's being she you called the Whore. A flower in fertiliser fertilising in truth." Darrik should not have been surprised that even good news would be surrounded with a veritable cesspit of bad news. Gladrags losing a companion on a task the dwarf had set would put a strain on the relationship, no questions asked. The dwarf would have to play it carefully for a month or three, be a bit more generous for a while. And if he'd gauged truly what Gladrags meant, it had been in the older, mostly abandoned run-off tunnels which led to the Ofriyu in that section halfway between the ruins and the asylum. Teodinus wept. Dark and treacherous, not as frequently maintained save to prevent a buildup of blockage, they were an unpleasant part of a place already, by definition, shitty to begin with.
Darrik pulled the cloth-wrapped collection of bottles from his satchel. "They're all yours, to share and share alike. But before you start, help Toast here figure out which part of the sewer your mate died in, and we'll head in and see what we can find. If we're lucky, I can add another rathead to your collection." Darrik's superiors had not been amused when he'd presented the head of the first orcrat he'd ever encountered as proof of a successful mission. As a result, he'd passed it on to Gladrags who'd somehow discerned some means of profit from the accursed thing. Darrik didn't ask at the time, because Darrik hadn't wanted to know then, and still didn't want to know now.
Darrik would let Toast and Gladrags somehow figure out a way to communicate the esoteric notion of 'location' within the older sewers in the historic district, and only once Toast gave him a sign that he was good to go would Darrik nod and say "Right then. No time like the present if we want a chance to get at those bodies." Darrik paused, realising he'd forgotten a crucial detail. Changer's curse, but this was going to be an arse of a day. "We're goin' to need a couple of large canvas bags an' some rope. I'll make those arrangements, and if you've forgotten anything that you might need, such as them dartguns and shieldwhatsits, now's a good time t'go pick 'em up. I'll meet you by whichever entrance you reckon is the way t'go in an hour."
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
In all honesty, Toast wasn’t particularly looking forward to having to converse with Gladrags, but be that as it may, there was no way around it. If Gladrags had information about what happened in the sewers, then he was the gnome to talk to, and so it came that when Darrik had his part of the information he required, Toast had to step up to take over.
From the bits and pieces Gladrags had already told the dwarf, Toast could approximately figure out whereabouts in the sewers this incident may have occurred but he wanted clarification in order to be absolutely certain that he had not misunderstood the informant, especially since the latter had a knack for speaking in riddles the gnome could not quite follow. Now there was also the added difficulty of the man being slightly on edge after having lost a few of his co-workers and Toast was feeling a little edgy himself about having to question the man.
It was a horribly long task – in Toast’s opinion – but when he pulled out a small map of the sewers to help communication with Gladrags, the man was suddenly much more comprehensible. It still wasn’t all too easy but they did manage, and oddly enough, after Toast had promised to get Gladrags a copy of this map, the man seemed to be less inclined to insult him at every chance he got.
“Alright Darrik,” Toast agreed once the painful conversation was over and the gnome could finally escape and get back into some fresh air. “I’ve got everything I need on my back, I’ll meet you at the northern most entrance to the sewers, the one next to the Ofriyu.”
He quickly made his way there, planting himself on the floor next to the sewer entrance and spread the map out on his knees. He wasn’t quite pleased with the outcome but he shouldn’t have expected anything else. Gladrags had done wonderful work in finding what he could only assume to be the missing whore’s body, though it was a little off track from where she should have been.
When Darrik reappeared, all geared up with canvas bags and whatnot – Toast preferred not to think about having to drag bodies back to Headquarters afterwards – he got up from where he was sitting. “You know I’ve been thinking. This was not the entrance the observation system picked up any activity, so either they’ve not gone in at this end, though this is the closest to get to the spot Gladrags indicated, which means they’ve gone in through the Eastern entrance, which is the one the observation system picked up on some activity. Or they’ve gone all around it on open ground, which I’m not sure would make much sense.”
For the time being, Toast wasn’t quite sure he was making sense himself but he was thinking maps and tunnels rather than bodies and reports at this moment in time. “Let’s go in,” he said, folding the map up completely and putting it into his backpack, already moving towards the entrance. As his fingers brushed a specific can, he stopped abruptly and turned back to Darrik. “Oh, I almost forgot! Stand still,” he ordered, but without the sharp tone usually accompanying an order, and began spraying Darrik’s boots with his concoction without even waiting for the dwarf to reply.
“Now we’re ready for some sewer fun,” he grinned as he handed a flash tube to Darrik and opened the door. “After you.” He let the dwarf enter before him, closing the door after him. Putting his own tube into the front of his shirt, fastening on a special contraption he had devised for exactly that purpose – it really only was a leather band with a special sort of hook – he took the lead and motioned for Darrik to follow him. “According to Gladrags’ directions, we need to go down here, turn left on the next intersection and then continue down that tunnel for a while. I haven’t managed to get out of him properly, which tunnel it was then, but there are only two and they cross over, so we’re going to find the bodies one way or another anyway, even without precise direction. Apparently there is also a niche that has been barricaded, despite not having been used by the gnomes for weeks. We might want to check that out too; it’s close to the bodies.”
From the bits and pieces Gladrags had already told the dwarf, Toast could approximately figure out whereabouts in the sewers this incident may have occurred but he wanted clarification in order to be absolutely certain that he had not misunderstood the informant, especially since the latter had a knack for speaking in riddles the gnome could not quite follow. Now there was also the added difficulty of the man being slightly on edge after having lost a few of his co-workers and Toast was feeling a little edgy himself about having to question the man.
It was a horribly long task – in Toast’s opinion – but when he pulled out a small map of the sewers to help communication with Gladrags, the man was suddenly much more comprehensible. It still wasn’t all too easy but they did manage, and oddly enough, after Toast had promised to get Gladrags a copy of this map, the man seemed to be less inclined to insult him at every chance he got.
“Alright Darrik,” Toast agreed once the painful conversation was over and the gnome could finally escape and get back into some fresh air. “I’ve got everything I need on my back, I’ll meet you at the northern most entrance to the sewers, the one next to the Ofriyu.”
He quickly made his way there, planting himself on the floor next to the sewer entrance and spread the map out on his knees. He wasn’t quite pleased with the outcome but he shouldn’t have expected anything else. Gladrags had done wonderful work in finding what he could only assume to be the missing whore’s body, though it was a little off track from where she should have been.
When Darrik reappeared, all geared up with canvas bags and whatnot – Toast preferred not to think about having to drag bodies back to Headquarters afterwards – he got up from where he was sitting. “You know I’ve been thinking. This was not the entrance the observation system picked up any activity, so either they’ve not gone in at this end, though this is the closest to get to the spot Gladrags indicated, which means they’ve gone in through the Eastern entrance, which is the one the observation system picked up on some activity. Or they’ve gone all around it on open ground, which I’m not sure would make much sense.”
For the time being, Toast wasn’t quite sure he was making sense himself but he was thinking maps and tunnels rather than bodies and reports at this moment in time. “Let’s go in,” he said, folding the map up completely and putting it into his backpack, already moving towards the entrance. As his fingers brushed a specific can, he stopped abruptly and turned back to Darrik. “Oh, I almost forgot! Stand still,” he ordered, but without the sharp tone usually accompanying an order, and began spraying Darrik’s boots with his concoction without even waiting for the dwarf to reply.
“Now we’re ready for some sewer fun,” he grinned as he handed a flash tube to Darrik and opened the door. “After you.” He let the dwarf enter before him, closing the door after him. Putting his own tube into the front of his shirt, fastening on a special contraption he had devised for exactly that purpose – it really only was a leather band with a special sort of hook – he took the lead and motioned for Darrik to follow him. “According to Gladrags’ directions, we need to go down here, turn left on the next intersection and then continue down that tunnel for a while. I haven’t managed to get out of him properly, which tunnel it was then, but there are only two and they cross over, so we’re going to find the bodies one way or another anyway, even without precise direction. Apparently there is also a niche that has been barricaded, despite not having been used by the gnomes for weeks. We might want to check that out too; it’s close to the bodies.”
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik returned with two large folded canvas sacks over one shoulder and a coil of rope hooked over the other, then dumped them in a pile by the entrance. "So what've you got there, Toast?" Darrik paid attention as the gnome went over the map and his theories regarding Spike's sensors and the rat movements. "No reason for anyone, man or otherwise, to go hanging around longer than they need to near where they've dumped a body. Though, given what happened t'Gladrags' mate, we'd better be damn cautious-like in spite o'that." Darrik then pointed out another possibility Toast had previously made him aware of "I reckon we'd have heard more about it if a pack of dog-sized rats were running around aboveground all the time. Reckon they could be using them smaller passageways an' run-off tunnels you were mentionin' the other day."
Still, speculation wouldn't get them anywhere, so Darrik was inclined to get a move on, despite the smell wafting up from their planned access point. The dwarf guard let Toast do whatever it was he was doing with his boots, and said with a chuckle "If that's a special perfume t'make sure the rats chew on me an' not you, you're simultaneously a smart bloke, and askin' for a dwarfish boot up a spot that ain't designed for it, if y'follow me."
Darrik accepted the flash tube and pulled out some cord from his pouch and cut off a small length with his kitchen knife. "Give me a moment. Ain't goin' to be of any use t'me if I don't set up a similar rig t'yours." The dwarf carefully wound part of the cord around the device and rigged up a lanyard. A moment later the flash tube was tied off to his belt by his right hip. "Right. We'll leave the sacks and rope here until we know we need 'em. Let's go pretend we're in a blimmin' rose garden. I'll head down first."
Darrik double checked how his buckler was sitting on its belt hook, as well as the accessibility of both knives and his warhammer, then made his way down the stairs to the stone basement which served as the entrance to that section of sewers. Even the door looked like it hadn't been replaced in ages: it had a slick and unhealthy sheen to it, as if varnished by sewage. Setting his jaw in determination, Darrik opened the door and activated his flash tube, stepping carefully into the treacherous and slippery sewer tunnel.
Still, speculation wouldn't get them anywhere, so Darrik was inclined to get a move on, despite the smell wafting up from their planned access point. The dwarf guard let Toast do whatever it was he was doing with his boots, and said with a chuckle "If that's a special perfume t'make sure the rats chew on me an' not you, you're simultaneously a smart bloke, and askin' for a dwarfish boot up a spot that ain't designed for it, if y'follow me."
Darrik accepted the flash tube and pulled out some cord from his pouch and cut off a small length with his kitchen knife. "Give me a moment. Ain't goin' to be of any use t'me if I don't set up a similar rig t'yours." The dwarf carefully wound part of the cord around the device and rigged up a lanyard. A moment later the flash tube was tied off to his belt by his right hip. "Right. We'll leave the sacks and rope here until we know we need 'em. Let's go pretend we're in a blimmin' rose garden. I'll head down first."
Darrik double checked how his buckler was sitting on its belt hook, as well as the accessibility of both knives and his warhammer, then made his way down the stairs to the stone basement which served as the entrance to that section of sewers. Even the door looked like it hadn't been replaced in ages: it had a slick and unhealthy sheen to it, as if varnished by sewage. Setting his jaw in determination, Darrik opened the door and activated his flash tube, stepping carefully into the treacherous and slippery sewer tunnel.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Still shaking his head over Darrik’s boot comment, Toast followed the dwarf into the sewers, closing the door behind them. He would have to remember though to fashion a few more flashtube necklaces, for lack of a better word – though that was what he had based his contraption of. If he was going to lend them out, it would be useful indeed; and maybe a few more ways of fastening them to the body, just in case.
The first thing that would probably have hit Darrik was the smell of the sewers, but Toast was practically oblivious to it. There was a faint odour scratching at his nose but that was about it. They were standing on the walking ledge of one of the main tunnels and Toast instantly turned East, heading down the dark hole at a normal walking pace. The ledges continued on both sides of the tunnel all around the main areas. Only when it branched off, did the ledges grow smaller and in some places they disappeared entirely. Not every tunnel was used at full capacity either, thus it was only a matter of walking through ankle-deep water from time to time. Nothing a gnome would really mind. They were equipped after all.
The light created funny patterns on the tunnel walls and especially in the water but Toast wasn’t paying a lot of attention to them. He was used to them and his attention was captured by the water rather than the walls. There was slight movement in it just as it should be for a main tunnel, but not so much as to be overly noticeable or causing waves to crash onto the walking ledge. What was odd however was that there was not a single rat in sight. Only this morning, he had seen a few, but now they were all gone. “You know what makes my skin crawl?” Toast muttered, more to himself than to Darrik, but with the echo of the tunnels, the dwarf was more than likely to hear. “The thought of the rats already gnawing on the bodies.”
And now that he had spoken it out loud, he couldn’t help but prevent from shivering when he realised that maybe the beasts had already been feasting this morning when he had caught up to Spike, close to where the incident had apparently taken place. Spike hadn’t said anything, hadn’t seemed to smell anything. Toast couldn’t rely on letting his nose be lead to the bodies with his nose, but he was sure his friend would have said something. Bodies in the sewer-water, whether already decomposing or not, would produce a smell.
Shaking his head, Toast decided not to follow down that line of thinking, not wanting to know how his thoughts ended. The intersection was already coming up and Toast veered to the left, following the now slightly smaller ledge. The first tunnel was very shortly after this one but Toast decided to try the other one rather than this one, and if necessary, they could move back up. Gladrags really hadn’t been very clear on that part, but the Eastern entrance was in proximity of the other tunnel and the gnome decided to follow his own inklings on this bit. If the orcrats really did use the Eastern entrance, then the bodies were going to be in the other tunnel.
The further they walked, the more the tension began to increase and more than once Toast caught himself moving his tube to illuminate a particular area of the tunnels to make sure he was only imagining eyes staring out of him. There was no sound but for their footsteps and the irregular lapping of water against the ledge. Neither of them seemed to feel inclined to talk much, rather paying attention to where they were stepping, to anything that could be happening behind them and what may lie ahead of them. Toast wasn’t all too worried since he figured he would hear them come from far enough away before the orcrats even reached them – should they come – but he was apprehensive nevertheless, not wanting to be caught. It was one thing crawling through the sewers on a normal day; it was a completely different thing to be crawling through the sewers in search of a couple of corpses.
“Here,” Toast pointed as the next tunnel crept up to them from out of the darkness. They had to wade through the water in order to reach the entrance and Toast stopped for a moment to let the water settle again before he continued down the side-arm. The water was completely and utterly still, not a single ripple or wave. “This is odd…,” he whispered to Darrik before taking a few steps down the tunnel. He was sure they were close now. If he didn’t know any better, the water was so still because something was blocking its way.
The first thing that would probably have hit Darrik was the smell of the sewers, but Toast was practically oblivious to it. There was a faint odour scratching at his nose but that was about it. They were standing on the walking ledge of one of the main tunnels and Toast instantly turned East, heading down the dark hole at a normal walking pace. The ledges continued on both sides of the tunnel all around the main areas. Only when it branched off, did the ledges grow smaller and in some places they disappeared entirely. Not every tunnel was used at full capacity either, thus it was only a matter of walking through ankle-deep water from time to time. Nothing a gnome would really mind. They were equipped after all.
The light created funny patterns on the tunnel walls and especially in the water but Toast wasn’t paying a lot of attention to them. He was used to them and his attention was captured by the water rather than the walls. There was slight movement in it just as it should be for a main tunnel, but not so much as to be overly noticeable or causing waves to crash onto the walking ledge. What was odd however was that there was not a single rat in sight. Only this morning, he had seen a few, but now they were all gone. “You know what makes my skin crawl?” Toast muttered, more to himself than to Darrik, but with the echo of the tunnels, the dwarf was more than likely to hear. “The thought of the rats already gnawing on the bodies.”
And now that he had spoken it out loud, he couldn’t help but prevent from shivering when he realised that maybe the beasts had already been feasting this morning when he had caught up to Spike, close to where the incident had apparently taken place. Spike hadn’t said anything, hadn’t seemed to smell anything. Toast couldn’t rely on letting his nose be lead to the bodies with his nose, but he was sure his friend would have said something. Bodies in the sewer-water, whether already decomposing or not, would produce a smell.
Shaking his head, Toast decided not to follow down that line of thinking, not wanting to know how his thoughts ended. The intersection was already coming up and Toast veered to the left, following the now slightly smaller ledge. The first tunnel was very shortly after this one but Toast decided to try the other one rather than this one, and if necessary, they could move back up. Gladrags really hadn’t been very clear on that part, but the Eastern entrance was in proximity of the other tunnel and the gnome decided to follow his own inklings on this bit. If the orcrats really did use the Eastern entrance, then the bodies were going to be in the other tunnel.
The further they walked, the more the tension began to increase and more than once Toast caught himself moving his tube to illuminate a particular area of the tunnels to make sure he was only imagining eyes staring out of him. There was no sound but for their footsteps and the irregular lapping of water against the ledge. Neither of them seemed to feel inclined to talk much, rather paying attention to where they were stepping, to anything that could be happening behind them and what may lie ahead of them. Toast wasn’t all too worried since he figured he would hear them come from far enough away before the orcrats even reached them – should they come – but he was apprehensive nevertheless, not wanting to be caught. It was one thing crawling through the sewers on a normal day; it was a completely different thing to be crawling through the sewers in search of a couple of corpses.
“Here,” Toast pointed as the next tunnel crept up to them from out of the darkness. They had to wade through the water in order to reach the entrance and Toast stopped for a moment to let the water settle again before he continued down the side-arm. The water was completely and utterly still, not a single ripple or wave. “This is odd…,” he whispered to Darrik before taking a few steps down the tunnel. He was sure they were close now. If he didn’t know any better, the water was so still because something was blocking its way.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik's expression didn't flicker when the thick stench of the sewer rolled over them. For a dwarf who'd spent decades removing the viscera of carcases as a butcher, coupled with prior guard duties requiring time spent in the sewers, squeamishness was not something Darrik had to worry about. Instead, his entire focus was on whatever feedback his ears could give him. It was harder to distinguish sounds with a partner's footsteps to factor in, but Darrik did his best, following Toast's more reliable navigation skill. Both seemed content to move in silence until Toast made his observation. Darrik reminded himself that Toast wasn't someone who normally had to deal with corpses, man or otherwise.
"It won't be pretty, Toast. By now the flesh'll be well rotted. Really, we'd be lucky to have anything recognisable apart from the clothin' she was last seen in. Gladrags' mate'll be in a better state in that regards, but guaranteed it won't be a recipe for pleasant dreams." Darrik grunted "When we find 'em, if y'want to keep your distance from the corpses while I take a closer look, I won't be thinkin' any less of you. Not somethin' a bloke should have to see what isn't already accustomed t'such things." Darrik lapsed back into silence, after that, a grim look on his face. Images of Hylde, engraved in the dwarf's mind, resurfaced to pour acid into still-raw wounds. Darrik's hand reflexively brushed the handle of his cleaver.
Darrik didn't have much else to say, preferring silence to aid in having an early warning for any unwanted company, until they reached the spot Toast had determined as the likely candidate for the terminus to Gladrags' directions. As Toast stopped, Darrik paused beside him, then followed as Toast prepared to walk further down the smaller offshoot to the main tunnel. Darrik extended his arm in front of Toast, unhooked his buckler, and whispered "Careful now, mate, let me go first. There's a hint o'something in the air. You keep an eye on the way we just came in, a'right?" Darrik didn't have a dead nose, didn't try to ignore the scents that came his way - they just didn't really bother him. Didn't trigger a nausea response. So his olfactory senses weren't in hiding when the stench of sewers blended with a new flavour. Something organic but less digested than typical sewer fare. Darrik drew his large butcher's knife from its sheath, holding it in guard behind his buckler, ready to respond if it turned out he was walking into an ambush.
As it turned out, corpses aren't very good at ambushing. Or much of anything else if you got right down to it. Though if there was a competition for 'worst smell in the world', they were certainly outclassing the sewers in this stretch of tunnel. Or at least Hyacinth's remains were. Gladrags' dead associate, like his ersatz leader, wore the scent of the sewers like a perfume. The moment Darrik caught the edges of the bodies in the outer field of his flashtube's illumination he called out softly. "I've found 'em. Watch me back, aye, while I take a closer look at the damage. An' if you choose to let curiosity outweigh good sense, you'd better not blimmin' throw up on me newly-sprayed boots." Whatever Toast decided, Darrik turned his attention to the unpleasant task at hand.
Putting his knife away, Darrik moved closer to the bodies, steeling himself for what was guaranteed to be a horrible example of human decomposition. Hyacinth, in death as in life, certainly didn't fail to meet a man's expectations. Darrik was bloody glad it had only been a week, and not a month, in Hyacinth's case. Darrik had already experienced the misfortune of a weeks-old corpse twice in his short career. Bodies left that long un-cremated bloated to the point that parts of the body would start bursting open, hair falling off the scalp in clumps, and the inevitable colony of maggots made them look like a sack of spilled rice. At least he didn't have to deal with that today. Not that a days-old corpse was much better, mind. Bloating had already set in as the noxious humours of the viscera expanded within the body. The fluids of decomposition leaked from Hyacinth's swollen face like a hideous mockery of tears and drool. Darrik was relieved that the flashtube helped disguise what would be the unwholesome pallor of death on the already-blistering flesh.
But Darrik's primary interest were the wound patterns. Vicious claw marks on the neck and torso, one arm broken with the pattern of decomposing flesh suggesting the curvature of a powerful bite. Darrik tried to imagine an arm caught in one of the orcish heads on the abominations haunting Marn's sewers. It could fit, aye, not that the dwarf was an expert in such matters. Shifting his attention to the flotsam shifter, Darrik found similar wounds. Still, despite Darrik not being a doctor, there was no question: it wasn't a human that killed Hyacinth and the flotsam shifter, and whatever it was, it wasn't what killed Hylde neither. The slash marks were nowhere near as deep, broad, or ragged. Darrik fought back the surge of disappointment. He had time, at least another century of life if he was smart about it, to find the shifter bastard who'd ripped the heart out of his family. The dwarf stood up and stepped away from the corpses, forcing himself to regain his internal composure and focus on the task at hand.
Returning to Toast, Darrik said "Right, well, there's no shifting Hyacinth with just us, not with the state o'decomposition she's in. But Gladrags' chum'll be less of an issue. I reckon we should head back, grab one o'them bags, and I'll haul the poor sod back to the surface. You notice anythin' about all this? I'll be honest, I was payin' more attention t'the bodies than me surroundings."
"It won't be pretty, Toast. By now the flesh'll be well rotted. Really, we'd be lucky to have anything recognisable apart from the clothin' she was last seen in. Gladrags' mate'll be in a better state in that regards, but guaranteed it won't be a recipe for pleasant dreams." Darrik grunted "When we find 'em, if y'want to keep your distance from the corpses while I take a closer look, I won't be thinkin' any less of you. Not somethin' a bloke should have to see what isn't already accustomed t'such things." Darrik lapsed back into silence, after that, a grim look on his face. Images of Hylde, engraved in the dwarf's mind, resurfaced to pour acid into still-raw wounds. Darrik's hand reflexively brushed the handle of his cleaver.
Darrik didn't have much else to say, preferring silence to aid in having an early warning for any unwanted company, until they reached the spot Toast had determined as the likely candidate for the terminus to Gladrags' directions. As Toast stopped, Darrik paused beside him, then followed as Toast prepared to walk further down the smaller offshoot to the main tunnel. Darrik extended his arm in front of Toast, unhooked his buckler, and whispered "Careful now, mate, let me go first. There's a hint o'something in the air. You keep an eye on the way we just came in, a'right?" Darrik didn't have a dead nose, didn't try to ignore the scents that came his way - they just didn't really bother him. Didn't trigger a nausea response. So his olfactory senses weren't in hiding when the stench of sewers blended with a new flavour. Something organic but less digested than typical sewer fare. Darrik drew his large butcher's knife from its sheath, holding it in guard behind his buckler, ready to respond if it turned out he was walking into an ambush.
As it turned out, corpses aren't very good at ambushing. Or much of anything else if you got right down to it. Though if there was a competition for 'worst smell in the world', they were certainly outclassing the sewers in this stretch of tunnel. Or at least Hyacinth's remains were. Gladrags' dead associate, like his ersatz leader, wore the scent of the sewers like a perfume. The moment Darrik caught the edges of the bodies in the outer field of his flashtube's illumination he called out softly. "I've found 'em. Watch me back, aye, while I take a closer look at the damage. An' if you choose to let curiosity outweigh good sense, you'd better not blimmin' throw up on me newly-sprayed boots." Whatever Toast decided, Darrik turned his attention to the unpleasant task at hand.
Putting his knife away, Darrik moved closer to the bodies, steeling himself for what was guaranteed to be a horrible example of human decomposition. Hyacinth, in death as in life, certainly didn't fail to meet a man's expectations. Darrik was bloody glad it had only been a week, and not a month, in Hyacinth's case. Darrik had already experienced the misfortune of a weeks-old corpse twice in his short career. Bodies left that long un-cremated bloated to the point that parts of the body would start bursting open, hair falling off the scalp in clumps, and the inevitable colony of maggots made them look like a sack of spilled rice. At least he didn't have to deal with that today. Not that a days-old corpse was much better, mind. Bloating had already set in as the noxious humours of the viscera expanded within the body. The fluids of decomposition leaked from Hyacinth's swollen face like a hideous mockery of tears and drool. Darrik was relieved that the flashtube helped disguise what would be the unwholesome pallor of death on the already-blistering flesh.
But Darrik's primary interest were the wound patterns. Vicious claw marks on the neck and torso, one arm broken with the pattern of decomposing flesh suggesting the curvature of a powerful bite. Darrik tried to imagine an arm caught in one of the orcish heads on the abominations haunting Marn's sewers. It could fit, aye, not that the dwarf was an expert in such matters. Shifting his attention to the flotsam shifter, Darrik found similar wounds. Still, despite Darrik not being a doctor, there was no question: it wasn't a human that killed Hyacinth and the flotsam shifter, and whatever it was, it wasn't what killed Hylde neither. The slash marks were nowhere near as deep, broad, or ragged. Darrik fought back the surge of disappointment. He had time, at least another century of life if he was smart about it, to find the shifter bastard who'd ripped the heart out of his family. The dwarf stood up and stepped away from the corpses, forcing himself to regain his internal composure and focus on the task at hand.
Returning to Toast, Darrik said "Right, well, there's no shifting Hyacinth with just us, not with the state o'decomposition she's in. But Gladrags' chum'll be less of an issue. I reckon we should head back, grab one o'them bags, and I'll haul the poor sod back to the surface. You notice anythin' about all this? I'll be honest, I was payin' more attention t'the bodies than me surroundings."
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
The smell. It probably should have gotten into Toast’s nose like anything else rotten that was floating about the sewers but just like mostly everything else, the goblin didn’t notice it much. A slight change in what was coming into his nose but not different enough or rather strong enough to make him gag. Just as well.
From the way the bodies looked, he was glad, very glad indeed, that he was unable to smell whatever these corpses were spreading in the air around them. It was disgusting to look at, to say the least. It wasn’t quite the first encounter he had had with bodies, though he couldn’t remember details from previously – they were probably buried deep down inside his memories, so far down that he couldn’t properly access them. Not that he minded.
The water had indeed stagnated around the bodies, barely managing to find a way around but the area was completely void of any other body, living or dead. In a way, he was glad however that Darrik had taken over the lead because he was a bit warned of when they had finally chanced upon the victims. Helping out the City Guard somehow hadn’t quite translated in his head as maybe having to have to deal with bodies as well. So far it had all been nice and well to talk about them, to have read reports but to actually see them with his own eyes.. Suddenly his stomach felt a little queasy, but he was doing his best in hiding it. There was no need to dwell over his unease either.
Nor was there a need to keep looking at them. This was not his department, thus he happily turned his attention to the surroundings, taking a couple of steps into each direction of the sewers, checking if there was anything unusual, other than the fact that there were actual human bodies lying in the water.
There was a niche not too far away that Toast flashed his light over only to realise that the niche wasn’t a niche anymore but completely filled up, as though it had been closed because there was no use for it anymore. It really could have happened, sometimes there were more niches than there was a need for, but this seemed an odd place for walling up a hole in the tunnels. There weren’t many around here and given the fact that they had just stumbled across a couple of dead bodies, Toast was sure, despite this not being a regular occurrence, that there would have been need for this particular slot in the walls.
For the most part though, apart from that, everything seemed to be normal, but then Toast’s eyes fell on the walls surrounding the area where the two corpses were and he frowned, stepping closer to have a look at what he thought he had seen. And indeed, there really were marks on the walls, scratch marks to be more exact. He didn’t hear, or rather, didn’t register Darrik’s words as he was too focused upon the markings he was looking at. “Come have a look at this,” he said as he moved from spot to spot, around the bodies, as he checked for more scratches. “These look as though they could stem from a fight, don’t you think?” Just as he finished his question, he realised that Darrik had actually asked one of his own, so he nodded absentmindedly. “Yup, I guess. Let’s go get the bag then and come to the markings later; they won’t be going anywhere after all.”
From the way the bodies looked, he was glad, very glad indeed, that he was unable to smell whatever these corpses were spreading in the air around them. It was disgusting to look at, to say the least. It wasn’t quite the first encounter he had had with bodies, though he couldn’t remember details from previously – they were probably buried deep down inside his memories, so far down that he couldn’t properly access them. Not that he minded.
The water had indeed stagnated around the bodies, barely managing to find a way around but the area was completely void of any other body, living or dead. In a way, he was glad however that Darrik had taken over the lead because he was a bit warned of when they had finally chanced upon the victims. Helping out the City Guard somehow hadn’t quite translated in his head as maybe having to have to deal with bodies as well. So far it had all been nice and well to talk about them, to have read reports but to actually see them with his own eyes.. Suddenly his stomach felt a little queasy, but he was doing his best in hiding it. There was no need to dwell over his unease either.
Nor was there a need to keep looking at them. This was not his department, thus he happily turned his attention to the surroundings, taking a couple of steps into each direction of the sewers, checking if there was anything unusual, other than the fact that there were actual human bodies lying in the water.
There was a niche not too far away that Toast flashed his light over only to realise that the niche wasn’t a niche anymore but completely filled up, as though it had been closed because there was no use for it anymore. It really could have happened, sometimes there were more niches than there was a need for, but this seemed an odd place for walling up a hole in the tunnels. There weren’t many around here and given the fact that they had just stumbled across a couple of dead bodies, Toast was sure, despite this not being a regular occurrence, that there would have been need for this particular slot in the walls.
For the most part though, apart from that, everything seemed to be normal, but then Toast’s eyes fell on the walls surrounding the area where the two corpses were and he frowned, stepping closer to have a look at what he thought he had seen. And indeed, there really were marks on the walls, scratch marks to be more exact. He didn’t hear, or rather, didn’t register Darrik’s words as he was too focused upon the markings he was looking at. “Come have a look at this,” he said as he moved from spot to spot, around the bodies, as he checked for more scratches. “These look as though they could stem from a fight, don’t you think?” Just as he finished his question, he realised that Darrik had actually asked one of his own, so he nodded absentmindedly. “Yup, I guess. Let’s go get the bag then and come to the markings later; they won’t be going anywhere after all.”
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik gave the scratches on the wall only a cursory glance. "Aye, so we can probably guess Gladrags' mate got the hard goodbye right here. Doesn't really tell us more'n that. Now, if the bastards had drawn a little map sayin' You are here, with directions to their lair, that'd be damn handy. If I knew where the blighted abominations came from or are holin' up, I'd be of half a mind to go burn the bastards out right now." The dwarf guard's mood had soured considerably. The bodies hadn't been eaten, which confirmed an intelligence behind the attacks. It wasn't wild creatures, which gave Darrik even more motivation to get some fresh air for a bit o'thinking. Unfortunately, he had one more thing to do to make sure the first trip wasn't a total waste.
Darrik pulled out his kitchen knife. "Y'probably don't want to watch this bit." Hyacinth's gaudy necklace was still present, almost hidden by the swollen and decayed neck which had expanded around it. The dwarf gingerly tried to lever the decaying meat aside for him to grab the pendant with a gloved hand. Despite his care, the pendant's retrieval was accompanied by a waft of foul vapours from ruptured and decomposing flesh. Spitting with distaste Darrik said "All right, let's head back an' grab them bags. Won't shift what's left of Hyacinth, but now we've got evidence we've found her. An' I think I've changed my mind again: Sergeant Jack is a bloody arsehole after all. I should blimmin' well invite him down to examine the evidence in person. As if he would." Darrik grumbled a bit more before saying "Right, let's get out of this hole. Lead the way, Toast."
A minute or two later, the dwarf paused when he found a patch of slightly-less filthy sewage to rinse the pendant off, and muttered "Goin' to burn these gloves after, I reckon. Get new ones without the stench of shit an' corpse about 'em. What a bloody day. What a bloody wretched day. Changers know I'm lookin' forward to some damn fresh air." When they did reach the sewer entrance, Darrik tromped out to where he could see the sky and took in a deep breath before expelling all the air from his lungs. A few deep breaths later, the dwarf felt a bit more at ease. "I tell you, Toast, feels damn unclean breathin' in corpsified air. Like invitin' death into your own lungs. I'm goin' to double-bag Gladrags' mate I reckon, less chance o'the bag tearin' too badly along the way. Let's give ourselves a few minutes before we head back down there. You see anything aside from scratches on the wall?"
Darrik pulled out his kitchen knife. "Y'probably don't want to watch this bit." Hyacinth's gaudy necklace was still present, almost hidden by the swollen and decayed neck which had expanded around it. The dwarf gingerly tried to lever the decaying meat aside for him to grab the pendant with a gloved hand. Despite his care, the pendant's retrieval was accompanied by a waft of foul vapours from ruptured and decomposing flesh. Spitting with distaste Darrik said "All right, let's head back an' grab them bags. Won't shift what's left of Hyacinth, but now we've got evidence we've found her. An' I think I've changed my mind again: Sergeant Jack is a bloody arsehole after all. I should blimmin' well invite him down to examine the evidence in person. As if he would." Darrik grumbled a bit more before saying "Right, let's get out of this hole. Lead the way, Toast."
A minute or two later, the dwarf paused when he found a patch of slightly-less filthy sewage to rinse the pendant off, and muttered "Goin' to burn these gloves after, I reckon. Get new ones without the stench of shit an' corpse about 'em. What a bloody day. What a bloody wretched day. Changers know I'm lookin' forward to some damn fresh air." When they did reach the sewer entrance, Darrik tromped out to where he could see the sky and took in a deep breath before expelling all the air from his lungs. A few deep breaths later, the dwarf felt a bit more at ease. "I tell you, Toast, feels damn unclean breathin' in corpsified air. Like invitin' death into your own lungs. I'm goin' to double-bag Gladrags' mate I reckon, less chance o'the bag tearin' too badly along the way. Let's give ourselves a few minutes before we head back down there. You see anything aside from scratches on the wall?"
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Toast couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to but when Darrik started fiddling with the body, his stomach started to heave a bit as the polluted air scratched at his lungs. It took him quite a few moments before he got the emotion under control again, but he managed not to throw up after all. Once again, the gnome was glad that his sense of smell was practically non-existent, because he was sure that the bodies were definitely not smelling like roses, especially not after being treated the way the dwarf had just handled them, even if it had been careful enough.
Once back in the somewhat fresh air, Toast looked at Darrik briefly and instantly replied while sitting down on the ground for a few moments just because he could and a couple of minutes of rest seemed right. “Double-bagging, huh? Yeah, better not to cause even more of a mess than we already have on our hands with those bodies. Do you reckon they’re going to come back and strike again? This seems to be overly vicious in comparison to the other dead bodies that have been found, unless the reports haven’t given all the gruesome details.”
At the dwarf’s last question however, Toast’s face crumpled into a few lines. “As a matter of fact, yes there was something else. There was a wall where there shouldn’t have been one. There has always been a medium sized niche in that place, which shouldn’t have been holed up because they are fairly rare in this area. Maybe there was a reason for doing so but I haven’t heard that it was ordered to be done by any gnomes. I’ll check into it and have someone come knock it down or I might just do it myself.” A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of this because he wasn’t all too fond in going to back to a place where he knew there had been a death but what could he do? He wanted to know why that wall was there and sometimes it was just best to do these sorts of things himself.
“I’ll be honest. I dread going back in, thankfully, I do not have your fully functioning nose,” Toast grunted as he got off the floor and help Darrik with the bags. “Shall we just get this over and done with then?” he asked before taking a deep breath, though more to steal his nerves rather than to breathe in the fresh air.
Once again, they stepped through the door and into the sewers, though this time the way seemed to take much longer than before and Toast felt more and more reluctant with every step he took. They should have just taken the bags the first time round, loaded up the corpses and gotten the hell out of there. The gnome was not one to be shy of the sewers, but this was something different and the thought of seeing those bodies again wasn’t exactly light weight on his thoughts.
Once back in the somewhat fresh air, Toast looked at Darrik briefly and instantly replied while sitting down on the ground for a few moments just because he could and a couple of minutes of rest seemed right. “Double-bagging, huh? Yeah, better not to cause even more of a mess than we already have on our hands with those bodies. Do you reckon they’re going to come back and strike again? This seems to be overly vicious in comparison to the other dead bodies that have been found, unless the reports haven’t given all the gruesome details.”
At the dwarf’s last question however, Toast’s face crumpled into a few lines. “As a matter of fact, yes there was something else. There was a wall where there shouldn’t have been one. There has always been a medium sized niche in that place, which shouldn’t have been holed up because they are fairly rare in this area. Maybe there was a reason for doing so but I haven’t heard that it was ordered to be done by any gnomes. I’ll check into it and have someone come knock it down or I might just do it myself.” A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of this because he wasn’t all too fond in going to back to a place where he knew there had been a death but what could he do? He wanted to know why that wall was there and sometimes it was just best to do these sorts of things himself.
“I’ll be honest. I dread going back in, thankfully, I do not have your fully functioning nose,” Toast grunted as he got off the floor and help Darrik with the bags. “Shall we just get this over and done with then?” he asked before taking a deep breath, though more to steal his nerves rather than to breathe in the fresh air.
Once again, they stepped through the door and into the sewers, though this time the way seemed to take much longer than before and Toast felt more and more reluctant with every step he took. They should have just taken the bags the first time round, loaded up the corpses and gotten the hell out of there. The gnome was not one to be shy of the sewers, but this was something different and the thought of seeing those bodies again wasn’t exactly light weight on his thoughts.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik grunted. The dwarf's mood was still somewhat soured by the first half of the day's grisly work "What other dead bodies? These are the only damn corpses we've found thus far, Toast. At least, of those reported missing after the rat attacks, in any case. But yeah, We'll be lucky if this is the last of it. Can't think of any reason th'damn abominations'll quit the game unless we gut the wretched things afore they get around to it." Darrik thought back to the first rat he killed those months ago. Its victim had been pretty thoroughly ravaged as well. "Seems to me if we find any more bodies, it will not be any prettier."
The mention of a new wall caused Darrik's brow to furrow deeply "That's bloody suspicious, Toast. If it weren't put up by your colleagues, then it's not goin' to have been some altruistic soul come down to repair the sewers under our noses. Show it to me when we get back there, aye? I'd like to take a closer look at it m'self." It was too great a coincidence for something like that t'be right near the bodies. The dwarf guard knew his warhammer was of decent quality, and the pick-head might do some damage to poorly-laid mortar. Darrik was certainly not going to wait any longer than was necessary to open up that niche. Worst case scenario was he'd have to have his warhammer repaired.
Still, like Toast, Darrik was not particularly looking forward to heading back in. The dwarf guard had a duty to Marn, however, and to his fellow citizens. Shouldering one of the bags, and looping the coil of rope over his shoulder, Darrik gave a decisive nod "No time like the present, Toast, and the sooner we're done with this the better." The thing about the sewer, Darrik decided, was that it never smelled any better or worse than each subsequent visit. There was an honesty to the hideous stench of the place which, from a philosophical perspective, the dwarf could appreciate. What he'd appreciate more, though, was the bath at the end of the blimmin' task.
Darrik's steps and nerve didn't falter once, although having his mobility hampered by bag and rope meant he had to be a bit more focused on his footing. It was a tense journey nonetheless, and Darrik was not looking forward to the damn awkward task of hustling a body into a large sack. The only saving grace was that Gladrags' chum wasn't in the advanced stages of decay. When they finally arrived back at the remote section of sewer tunnels containing the bodies, Darrik paused to evaluate his options. The dwarf did have an excuse to put off the inevitable, after all "Before we get our hands proper dirty, Toast, show me this wall you mentioned. I'm wondering if some attention with my hammer might get us access."
The mention of a new wall caused Darrik's brow to furrow deeply "That's bloody suspicious, Toast. If it weren't put up by your colleagues, then it's not goin' to have been some altruistic soul come down to repair the sewers under our noses. Show it to me when we get back there, aye? I'd like to take a closer look at it m'self." It was too great a coincidence for something like that t'be right near the bodies. The dwarf guard knew his warhammer was of decent quality, and the pick-head might do some damage to poorly-laid mortar. Darrik was certainly not going to wait any longer than was necessary to open up that niche. Worst case scenario was he'd have to have his warhammer repaired.
Still, like Toast, Darrik was not particularly looking forward to heading back in. The dwarf guard had a duty to Marn, however, and to his fellow citizens. Shouldering one of the bags, and looping the coil of rope over his shoulder, Darrik gave a decisive nod "No time like the present, Toast, and the sooner we're done with this the better." The thing about the sewer, Darrik decided, was that it never smelled any better or worse than each subsequent visit. There was an honesty to the hideous stench of the place which, from a philosophical perspective, the dwarf could appreciate. What he'd appreciate more, though, was the bath at the end of the blimmin' task.
Darrik's steps and nerve didn't falter once, although having his mobility hampered by bag and rope meant he had to be a bit more focused on his footing. It was a tense journey nonetheless, and Darrik was not looking forward to the damn awkward task of hustling a body into a large sack. The only saving grace was that Gladrags' chum wasn't in the advanced stages of decay. When they finally arrived back at the remote section of sewer tunnels containing the bodies, Darrik paused to evaluate his options. The dwarf did have an excuse to put off the inevitable, after all "Before we get our hands proper dirty, Toast, show me this wall you mentioned. I'm wondering if some attention with my hammer might get us access."
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
The way back towards the bodies seemed to stretch, and stretch, and it made Toast feel a little queasy. He hadn’t realised he was a little skittish when it came to bodies until today because it certainly wasn’t the fact of being without daylight and in the sewers, for he was used to such circumstances and didn’t much mind them, even if lately he had taken on working on things in his workspace rather than in the tunnels themselves. Still, he knew this place, he had grown up wading through sewers, so it would in no way make him uncomfortable unless something was really up, which it wasn’t. There was nothing wrong. Except for a couple of dead bodies floating around.
Toast forced himself to stop thinking about that, despite feeling – rather heavily – the weight of a body bag on his shoulder. Maybe it was quite simply the silence that made the trip seem longer. Both dwarf and gnome had to watch their footing to avoid slipping, and usually Toast would have been chatting away with whoever was with him to make time pass, but it didn’t seem right to fill the silence with useless small-talk, so Toast kept quiet, instead trying to use the time to think about possible improvements to his waterproofing recipe. The exact formula simply refused to be written down and there was always some fiddling or other to mess up whatever the gnome had put on paper which made that the formula was never correct.
When they arrived at the designated spot and put down the bags, Toast nodded at Darrik’s suggestion before turning towards the wall that had not been there before. “It seems odd to brick this off, though I wouldn’t put it past them to put it up provisionally before more work can be done, but I would have guessed that I would have been notified of such a thing, especially since they all know that I have started working on contract for the guards, so all the updates get passed on to me.” It still sounded odd that he would be updated on every single detail these days, not because he ventured out to have a look but because he had to be informed because he was a civilian contractor now.
“Do you reckon the warhammer will get through it?” Toast asked, the dwarf’s look at the warhammer earlier not having escaped him. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we knock it down to see what lays behind it. It really does make me wonder why it is there. Then again, there is probably a perfectly good reason and I’m only thinking that something else may be behind this because there are two bodies lying in this particular spot. I think my mind is just racing away with conspiracy theories again. I’m sure this is nothing. But we should maybe take a look after all?” The gnome couldn’t hide the fact that he was suddenly very excited about the prospect of potentially uncovering a secret compartment or something behind the wall, despite the fact that he knew that he was building up hopes he shouldn’t be. There would be nothing to find. There was just a small niche behind this newly constructed wall. Nothing at all to be excited about.
Toast forced himself to stop thinking about that, despite feeling – rather heavily – the weight of a body bag on his shoulder. Maybe it was quite simply the silence that made the trip seem longer. Both dwarf and gnome had to watch their footing to avoid slipping, and usually Toast would have been chatting away with whoever was with him to make time pass, but it didn’t seem right to fill the silence with useless small-talk, so Toast kept quiet, instead trying to use the time to think about possible improvements to his waterproofing recipe. The exact formula simply refused to be written down and there was always some fiddling or other to mess up whatever the gnome had put on paper which made that the formula was never correct.
When they arrived at the designated spot and put down the bags, Toast nodded at Darrik’s suggestion before turning towards the wall that had not been there before. “It seems odd to brick this off, though I wouldn’t put it past them to put it up provisionally before more work can be done, but I would have guessed that I would have been notified of such a thing, especially since they all know that I have started working on contract for the guards, so all the updates get passed on to me.” It still sounded odd that he would be updated on every single detail these days, not because he ventured out to have a look but because he had to be informed because he was a civilian contractor now.
“Do you reckon the warhammer will get through it?” Toast asked, the dwarf’s look at the warhammer earlier not having escaped him. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we knock it down to see what lays behind it. It really does make me wonder why it is there. Then again, there is probably a perfectly good reason and I’m only thinking that something else may be behind this because there are two bodies lying in this particular spot. I think my mind is just racing away with conspiracy theories again. I’m sure this is nothing. But we should maybe take a look after all?” The gnome couldn’t hide the fact that he was suddenly very excited about the prospect of potentially uncovering a secret compartment or something behind the wall, despite the fact that he knew that he was building up hopes he shouldn’t be. There would be nothing to find. There was just a small niche behind this newly constructed wall. Nothing at all to be excited about.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik eyed the makeshift wall. "Won't know until I try. But there ain't a damn reason to wall up a section o'the sewers if it ain't a tunnel. Who walls off a blimmin' niche? It makes no sense." Darrik unhooked his warhammer from its harness on his back, and selected one cross-section of mortar between the bricks as his target, making sure the pick of the warhammer into the business end. Though it was just a wall, there was no reason to get sloppy, so Darrik made sure he was specification-perfect as he brought the warhammer back and then forward with a twist of his hips and the aid of well-developed arm muscles. There was a satisfying sensation of impact, of something giving way before his hammer, and the sound of a very small faint splash behind the wall. But at first glance the wall still seemed intact.
Staring suspiciously at the wall, the dwarf guard knew there was something not quite right: it was a sensation Darrik hadn't felt since he'd been chasing a thief who'd turned out to have a talent for clouding human heads. His vision was swimming somewhat, and now he knew it wasn't because the sewers stank. "There's somethin' amiss here, Toast. A touch o'filthy magic if I don't miss my guess." Darrik concentrated, beard bristling with indignation. He knew deep down, without a shadow of a doubt, that magic had no place in his life, and no right to screw about with his work and his duty. All he had to do was remind himself and the world that things were meant to look the way they ought to. A moment of stubborn glaring later, Darrik's vision ceased swimming, and he saw that the wall, though still there, was far more makeshift than they'd first thought. The bricks had been layed carefully, no doubt, and tessellated with precision. But no mortar had been used. The dwarf put his warhammer back in its harness.
Darrik widened his footing for stability, and put his hands against two likely spots on the wall. Toast was treated to the sight of the burly dwarf heaving against what would still appear to be a well-mortared wall. Thirty seconds later, Darrik felt the bricks shifting, and he increased his efforts. A moment later the wall proved less stubborn than the dwarf, and with a clatter of bricks the centre of the wall caved in around the bricks Darrik had pushed out of place, some bouncing off the dwarf's thick skull and armour. Worse though was the thick stench of death which rolled out through the gap. Revealed to both of them would be the wall, illusion broken, and a stack of rotted-down corpses and skeletons stacked behind it. Darrik winced "Son of a troll, that blimmin' stinks worse than most things I've had t'smell in my career." Still, the dwarf knew how to look for positives "On th'bright side, this should be enough to palm this case off t'the blimmin' battlemages. You saw the illusion, yeah?" The question was mostly asked as a temporary distraction from the latest escalation in the process of Darrik's day turning to shit.
Staring suspiciously at the wall, the dwarf guard knew there was something not quite right: it was a sensation Darrik hadn't felt since he'd been chasing a thief who'd turned out to have a talent for clouding human heads. His vision was swimming somewhat, and now he knew it wasn't because the sewers stank. "There's somethin' amiss here, Toast. A touch o'filthy magic if I don't miss my guess." Darrik concentrated, beard bristling with indignation. He knew deep down, without a shadow of a doubt, that magic had no place in his life, and no right to screw about with his work and his duty. All he had to do was remind himself and the world that things were meant to look the way they ought to. A moment of stubborn glaring later, Darrik's vision ceased swimming, and he saw that the wall, though still there, was far more makeshift than they'd first thought. The bricks had been layed carefully, no doubt, and tessellated with precision. But no mortar had been used. The dwarf put his warhammer back in its harness.
Darrik widened his footing for stability, and put his hands against two likely spots on the wall. Toast was treated to the sight of the burly dwarf heaving against what would still appear to be a well-mortared wall. Thirty seconds later, Darrik felt the bricks shifting, and he increased his efforts. A moment later the wall proved less stubborn than the dwarf, and with a clatter of bricks the centre of the wall caved in around the bricks Darrik had pushed out of place, some bouncing off the dwarf's thick skull and armour. Worse though was the thick stench of death which rolled out through the gap. Revealed to both of them would be the wall, illusion broken, and a stack of rotted-down corpses and skeletons stacked behind it. Darrik winced "Son of a troll, that blimmin' stinks worse than most things I've had t'smell in my career." Still, the dwarf knew how to look for positives "On th'bright side, this should be enough to palm this case off t'the blimmin' battlemages. You saw the illusion, yeah?" The question was mostly asked as a temporary distraction from the latest escalation in the process of Darrik's day turning to shit.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Toast could see plenty of sense in walling off a niche, in the gnomish practical way and in his slightly nutty way for finding reasons that made not much sense, but he wasn’t about to contradict the dwarf. Darrik’s mood had gradually seemed to slip downhill and Toast didn’t want to accidentally have him explode in his face. Apart from his own excitement over this, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of being observed and it was starting to put him on edge. Rarely had he felt this uncomfortable in the sewers, though he had never been this close to decomposing bodies before either, so he blamed it all on that. Maybe the eyes of the dead, unseeing as they were, were tracking him.
“No, no, no. Nonsense! Enough of that!’ he scolded himself and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He had barely noticed the dwarf preparing the hammer and slamming it into the wall, but he very distinctly noticed that the wall was still standing after they had heard the sound of it collapsing in on itself. How…? What was…?
“Magic! Impossible! Why?” Toast babbled, but he didn’t care. Taking a step closer to the niche to have a look, he looked back at Darrik. “Why do you think…?” He trailed off in his question however as the dwarf made to shove the wall or illusion or whatever on earth it was aside. Not wanting to break his concentration, he stepped back again, leaving all the free space available to Darrik. After all, the sewers weren’t exactly known for how spacious they were.
Even through Toast’s malfunctioning sense of smell, he noticed something foul in the air and wrinkled his nose. “What on earth is that?” The gnome looked around the dwarf and tried to get a glimpse of whatever was inside the niche and then instantly wished he hadn’t. The sight that presented itself was disgusting to say the least and he wondered who on earth would think that depositing remains in a niche and then walling it off was a good idea.
“Yeah, I saw the illusion. Though I really would have hoped this,” he waved at the insides of the niche, “was an illusion as well. Changers, this is horrible! And here I thought we were merely chasing a couple of annoying orcrats, but this is something completely different! How soon do you think we can get the battlemages involved?” Personally, sooner rather than later would be his preferred choice, but he also knew that the Guard didn’t always work quite that quickly either.
Shuddering as he turned away to avoid having to look at the rotten bodies, he was faced with the somewhat less decomposed bodies of Gladrags' hound and the whore. They weren’t a much prettier sight than the others, but they seemed the better option. “Shall we just bag them up then and head to Headquarters? Hopefully they’ll be able to send someone down here soon to clean up this mess. I would hate for one of the younger gnomes to stumble upon this.”
It had been a long time since Toast had been so eager to escape the sewers, not since before he lost his sense of smell in any case or encountered bloodthirsty ratpacks that hadn’t eaten in days, but today was definitely one such day. He couldn’t wait to get out and it was all he could to keep himself from counting the steps back to the entrance, the steps back to fresh air, light and most of all, away from all those bodies.
“No, no, no. Nonsense! Enough of that!’ he scolded himself and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He had barely noticed the dwarf preparing the hammer and slamming it into the wall, but he very distinctly noticed that the wall was still standing after they had heard the sound of it collapsing in on itself. How…? What was…?
“Magic! Impossible! Why?” Toast babbled, but he didn’t care. Taking a step closer to the niche to have a look, he looked back at Darrik. “Why do you think…?” He trailed off in his question however as the dwarf made to shove the wall or illusion or whatever on earth it was aside. Not wanting to break his concentration, he stepped back again, leaving all the free space available to Darrik. After all, the sewers weren’t exactly known for how spacious they were.
Even through Toast’s malfunctioning sense of smell, he noticed something foul in the air and wrinkled his nose. “What on earth is that?” The gnome looked around the dwarf and tried to get a glimpse of whatever was inside the niche and then instantly wished he hadn’t. The sight that presented itself was disgusting to say the least and he wondered who on earth would think that depositing remains in a niche and then walling it off was a good idea.
“Yeah, I saw the illusion. Though I really would have hoped this,” he waved at the insides of the niche, “was an illusion as well. Changers, this is horrible! And here I thought we were merely chasing a couple of annoying orcrats, but this is something completely different! How soon do you think we can get the battlemages involved?” Personally, sooner rather than later would be his preferred choice, but he also knew that the Guard didn’t always work quite that quickly either.
Shuddering as he turned away to avoid having to look at the rotten bodies, he was faced with the somewhat less decomposed bodies of Gladrags' hound and the whore. They weren’t a much prettier sight than the others, but they seemed the better option. “Shall we just bag them up then and head to Headquarters? Hopefully they’ll be able to send someone down here soon to clean up this mess. I would hate for one of the younger gnomes to stumble upon this.”
It had been a long time since Toast had been so eager to escape the sewers, not since before he lost his sense of smell in any case or encountered bloodthirsty ratpacks that hadn’t eaten in days, but today was definitely one such day. He couldn’t wait to get out and it was all he could to keep himself from counting the steps back to the entrance, the steps back to fresh air, light and most of all, away from all those bodies.