The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 6)

Part 6: Vermin

Running through slimy tunnels slick with mildew, trying to escape thugs with truncheons. Good times. We can't keep this up forever.

"Eric! You go on ahead!" I call as we dart down a tunnel.

"Why?" He asks.

"We need a distraction. I'm going to go provide one."

I saunter out of the tunnel he ducked down and wait. The Bullyboys round the bend. Leading them is my friend with the broken nose. Excellent.

"It's about time you showed up." I say glibly. "I've been waiting for you." They look confused.

"In the name of House..." Broke Nose begins.

I don't let him finish. Instead, I kick him in the knee. He lets out a yelp that could wake the dead. The others stop and gape at me. Good.

"Now watch him, 'cause this is a very dangerous man." I say before they can do anything. "You may not know it, but this man's a spy! He's an agent of House Von Jeggett, and he's been sent to infiltrate Lord Dythanus's protection rings."

He's still groaning on the ground. They aren't looking at him though. They're looking and listening to me. I have no idea what I'm talking about, but that's no reason to stop.

"Yeah, he's a friend of those brutish monkey thugs. Why, I bet he's got the House Von Jeggett colors hoisted up in his offering room. He's a snake in the grass! I tell you, guys, he may look dumb but that's just a disguise. He's a mastermind in the ways of espionage."

They all start looking at him, really suspiciously. He starts bubbling out a protest, but I don't stick around to hear what it is. Bullyboys may be dumb, but soon they'll figure out I was spinning a load of dragondung. I'd best keep moving, hope I don't run out of luck. I make tracks for a bit, and then I see Eric standing at a junction.

"We need to keep moving!" I shout.

"There's nowhere to go." he replies.

What? Scat! he's not standing at a junction--he's standing at the lip of a chasm. I can hear water falling somewhere below. I look down. Not enough light to see the bottom. Wonderful. But hey, I have rope. I pull it out and tie a rock. Eric stares wistfully over the edge. I have about thirty feet of rope to work with. Can't see the bottom, but from the sound of the water, at least there is one. I'd rather not go flying again, so I tie the end of the rope around me. I shake Eric from his reverie.

"Down we go!" I'm way too cheerful.

I stow my dagger and Eric does the same. He grabs on to my back. I would've preferred Jessamine. Eric's much heavier than she was. And not nearly as pretty. We slide down the wall. With any luck, the Bullyboys won't see the rope, and think we went another way.

I hear footsteps. Moment of truth. They stop at the ledge. I hold my breath and try to think silent thoughts. Now is the time for the saint we paid off to be watching over us.

"Snuff and spite! We missed them!" One curses. "I want them found, Chevin. I want them to BLEED for all this trouble they've put us through!"

"Wait, Cob. I know you're mad about the knee..."

"Rut the knee! The Exile nearly turned you against me! He broke my rutting NOSE!"

"Lord Dythanus wants them alive." another voice says. Sounds like the leader. "And unharmed. You can get your turn after he's seen them."

"Lord Dythanus can..." The voice trails away, followed by a cry of alarm. There's a squeaking sound.

"Oh, RATS!" Someone shouts. Then there's the sound of running. It's heading away. I'd breathe a sigh of relief, but I'm not sure there's anything to be relived about. I climb back up the rope...it's not that easy with an armed guard hanging on my back, but at least he can keep still. I peek over the edge, and stare into a pair of beady eyes.

Well that's certainly a rodent of an unusual size.

I've seen dogs smaller than the rat that's looking me in the face right now. No wonder the bullyboys ran. I'd run, too. Can't run right now, though. And I'd rather not have it gnaw at my face. I draw the pistol and aim. Here goes nothing. I squeeze the trigger. There's a flash in the pan, and a loud bang...and nothing. The gun misfired. At least the rat was spooked. And the flash DID do something else. It lit up a couple dozen pairs of eyes. We're surrounded. Time to go back down the chasm. Quickly! I start sliding down as fast as I can.

In Calisapas, rats are considered to be a nutritious, if unpalatable, food source. Rats THIS big, however, might consider us the meal. The rat I spooked before is starting to sniff at the rope. Wonderful. I shake the rope to try and startle it, but we start swinging wildly. So instead I concentrate on getting us down. Eric is remaining blessedly quiet...He's holding on for dear life, not screaming in my ear.

We are running out of rope, and I have no idea how close to the bottom we are. The rats are growing bolder...one is climbing down towards us. I stab at it, the fireglass shimmering in the gloom. It squeals, mostly in annoyance, as it dodges my clumsy strikes. Boil it! I swing again.

Fighting from a swinging rope while trying to hold on AND balance a 13 stone man on my back is not quite as easy as it sounds. I miss again. So I bounce against the chasm wall, and pull the rope taut, before letting out a little more. Eric moans in fright, but the rat drops off. I hear a SPLOOSH! down underneath us. Not that far, really. Good to know. Even less rope remains. Two more rats get bold and climb down. Scat. End of the line. No more rope, and no bottom yet. I snap the rope taut again. These rats cling better. I'd hoped to avoid this...

"Hey Eric!" I say, as cheerfully as I can. "Ever wanted to fly?"

"Huh?" He whimpers.

"Well, now's a good time to learn." I cut the rope.

Thankfully, it's only twenty feet to the ground, the last six of which is under water. Reeking, filthy sewer water, but water nonetheless. I struggle to the surface. I hear Eric sputtering and thrashing nearby, and pull his head above water. I hear him gasp--I doubt he can swim.

“What now?" he shouts. I can barely hear him. The sound of rushing water drowns a lot of noises out. Not a great place to practice your breaststroke on a good day. There's a strong current. Not, thankfully, rapids, but still tricky to swim.

"We follow the current!" I shout back. "Until we can fine solid ground!" I think he nods...the fireglass is very dim right now. Scat. Dim fireglass tends to mean there are things around that its magic doesn't like. Things connected to The Shadows. Things that mess with me.

I have a bit of rope left, so I tie part of it to Eric. I'd rather he not go floating off without me. He's been out of his element all night. Does that mean that I'm in mine? By the Dragon, I hope not. I'm not the least bit comfortable considering The Shadows as "My element".

We swim for about half an hour, I think. It's hard to tell how long we've been on the move without stars or sky. Finally, we find dry land. Well, dry-ish. Enough for us to rest, ring out cloaks and shirts, and have a bite to eat. Too bad we have no food. My stomach rumbles.

Instead of eating, I mess with the pistol. I clean out the wet powder, pack it again, and refill the pan before I cock it and put it away. Maybe now It will actually fire when I want it to. I'd prefer a bow to this contraption. I'd ditch it if it weren't worth a small fortune.

We seem to be safe for the moment, but my dagger is still alarmingly dim. Not comforting. I wonder what's next in this gallery of horrors. Not going to dwell on that. "So. Here we are. What now?" I ask instead.

"We keep moving." He says. "Shadows below, what else CAN we do?"

"We can sit and have a nice chat about who this Lord Dythanus is, what he wants with you, and, more importantly, what he wants with me."

"I have no earthly idea what he'd want with you." he mutters darkly. "But he wants coin from me. A large amount of coin, spent frivolously. Failing that he wanted my daughter to work the debt off in one of his brothels." He spits. "She's beyond his reach now. Thus, the bullyboys."

I blink. I've heard this story before, but from the other side. No. No, it can't be related.

"I would think a Noble wouldn't stoop to running something as base as a whorehouse." I say.

Eric scoffs. "You'd be right, normally. Each of the Noble Houses of Miir controls one of the major trade guilds. House Dythanus is fairly new in the city--there wasn't much left. They came in, then ran all the independent pawnshops, gambling dens, bliss houses, and brothels out of business. It wasn't hard. They grew too rich to ignore. They call themselves purveyors of entertainment to sound legitimate, but everyone knows what they really do."

He's certainly forthcoming about this. "And The Shadows fit in how?" I ask. He doesn't reply. Great. So much for that. Though I wonder...No. It's not relevant. I've heard this kind of story a hundred times. Why, it was only last night...stop that! It's not related! But there's a chill in my spine that has nothing to do with the fact that we're underground and I'm all wet. And it's not going away.

Along with that chill is anger. Eric, you seem to be a good person. Loyal, religious (ok, that's a bit irritating), and calm in a crisis. But if I find out you were responsible for Jessamine being locked in that offering room last night as a bribe for The Shadows?

I won't wait for them to come for you. I will kill you myself.

I wonder if Naros is behind this. He seemed confidant that I'd do what he told me to. Dragon take him. Swallow him to the Belly.

This can't be coincidence. Eric said the Shadows were in people's hearts. He sounded very sure of that. Could it be he's running from himself? From his guilt? Is that why he didn't draw his sword against the bullyboys before? What was going through his mind as he looked over the chasm? Suicide?

Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. Do I try and save him from himself? Should I even try? I don't know.

He shakes me. "We should keep moving. We're not getting any closer to the mountains by staying here. When we get there, we will be free." Somehow I doubt that, but I say nothing. We continue on for at least an hour. The air is getting warmer. Good. I'm still wet and cold.

The stone has changed, too. We've finally reached areas that aren't lined in granite. It's bare cavern now, tricky to navigate. Don't slip. We pass by a head on a pike. I stop. Blink. Look at it again. Yup. It's a skull. On a spear, stuck into the rock.

"Eric...we're in trouble."

He turns, looking quizzical. Then he sees the friendly skull grinning at us. His mouth makes a little "o" of shock. "Who would...?"

"Redcaps. I think we've found their nest." I mutter darkly. The very last thing I want to do is fight a pack of cannibal goblin children on slippery rocks in tunnels they know much better than me. If we are very lucky, they're out hunting through Miir, taking advantage of the night.

"What say we go back the way we came?" I say.

"AW, but manny-man, where be de fun in dat?" I hear a giggle off in the darkness around us. "Don't manny-man want to play wit da powrie?"

FUCK!

The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 5)

Part 5: There's No Place Like Home

The light from the fireglass in the wall is dimming. So is the light from my dagger.

"Oh, what now?" I grunt, alarmed.

"It's midnight." Eric whispers. He's terrified. "The Shadows are free to roam."

Great. I was starting to enjoy not dealing with weird scat. I'm glad the seam of fireglass continues for a while. I'm less pleased that we've gone back to the sludgy part of the sewers. My poor nose. The corridor heads away down into the bleakness. Yay. This section has turned into a twisty little maze. It's all coming back. Right, left--and the corridor dead-ends at a building. Wooden frame, long, and on stilts, the sort you see everywhere near the docks in Calisapas.

Except we're about a thousand miles from the docks of Calisapas. We're in Miir. In a sewer. Underground. I stare dumbly at it.

“Eric? What do you make of this?”

He's stopped, too. I look back at him--he's more confused than I am. Not surprised--wood is a luxury in Miir. Most houses here are stone. So what is a Calisapan longhouse doing wedged into a sewer? I turn...and the tunnel is gone, replaced by more houses.

This must be the Shadows at work. I know we're still underground, but to all appearances we've wandered onto a street in my home city. I wonder if I should be worried that they seem to be getting creative in their efforts to screw with me. This place looks almost like—no.

"You know, this is strange and unnerving." I say to Eric, as nonchalantly as I can. "Why don't we turn back and get out of here?" He nods, though he's more fascinated by the architecture than he is attentive. At least he's not asking awkward questions. Maybe we can...

...and there it is. A large building squats in front of us. On the sign: "Lord Padrig's Home for Foundling Children." Dragon take it all. It's the home I've tried to avoid, ever since the last time I set eyes on it at the tender age of fourteen. Did a good job of that, till now.

"What's wrong, Gaven? Why have we stopped?" Eric still has his blade out. He's not looking at things in wonder anymore.

I don't have anything to fear from this place. It's just a building. It's not like Jacky Nimblewright is going to jump out at me.

"What is this place, Gaven?" Eric asks. There are too many answers to that question.

"I grew up here." I mutter. "Let's leave."

"It's a test. The Shadows are showing us this for a reason, Gaven." Eric says. "We should not turn away from lessons, no matter how painful."

I glare at him. "Yes! Let's relive the more painful and soulcrushing years of my life! It'll be fun!" I snap. "Dragon take that. We go another way."

"What are you running from, Gaven? What are you afraid to face?" Eric asks. I punch him hard in the face. He collapses.

"You know what? SCREW you, Eric! Y-you don't know me! You know NOTHING about this! And really, what right do you have to pry!? You want to know what lesson this place has? We lean that life sucks and people are bastards! And you could have learned that anywhere! And YOU! You keep being evasive about whatever this 'debt' to the Shadows is. What gives you the right to pry!?" I'm ranting. I never rant. I stalk off. He doesn't get up...I think he's still shocked. I need to be away from here. I need out of this mockery.

I've let the memory of Jack Nimblewright get to me. I shouldn't. This is just a trick, like the magic maze from last night. It's not real.

"Does the weight of your memories drag you down?" I hear. I also hear a clinking silver chain, and smell rose perfume. No. Not...

"Naros. I'm guessing this is your handiwork, then? It seems your style." I grumble. I try not to look at the pale nobleman. "I didn't call you."

"Am I not free to come and go where I wish?" he asks. I don't know. I didn't think so. I still don't know what sort of powers he wields. "You needn't worry about me. I am not your tormentor tonight. I'm merely here to inspect my investment. Ensure you don't renege our deal."

"Yeah, maybe you weren't watching earlier." I scoff. "I thought I made my intentions quite clear with the bullyboys." Scat. He's smirking.

"Those guards were not there to collect the debt your companion owes to us. They're after mere coin. He owes us far more." I hate his smirk.

"Yeah. What is this debt, anyway? He hasn't been very forthcoming about that. You Miirians are a tight-lipped bunch." I grunt. I hate him.

"No, I don't suppose he would have been, would he?" Naros says. "And I can't really blame him, since you are the cause of his problems."

"Care to explain that?" I say.

"It's simple, really. I told you once before--the Shadows despise being stolen from."

Great. Because Eric decided to try to help me, the Shadows have apparently turned their rage on him. Nice guilt trip. "Go away, Naros."

"Let me remind you what's at stake. You can alleviate your suffering tremendously if you let The Shadows collect their due." He says. "Just stand aside when the time comes. That's all you have to do. Stand aside." He's swallowed by the darkness. "Stand...aside."

He's gone now, but his voice still echoes in my head. This is all my fault. It's a heavy burden to bear. I hear footsteps. Eric's coming. He turns the corner, past the row of coastal houses. "Gaven?" he says. There's blood on his lip from where I hit him. "Are you here?"

"Yeah. I'm here." I say. I stand up off the stoop, dust myself off, and wander towards him. "Look, I'm sorry that I punched you."

He shrugs. "You were right. I should not have sought to force you to face this test against your will." He looks at me. Boil and damn his soulful face.

I sigh. "Yeah. Look, it's just that I grew up at that foundling home. It wasn't a bad place, actually, until Jacky Nimblewright took over. I was about nine then. He came in when the previous headmaster kicked it. The old guy, Finch, was as close to a father as I've ever had. But Jack was a real piece of work. He pocketed the money the city gave the home for our care, made us virtual slaves to line his pocket. He trained some of us to go put picking pockets or pulling second-story jobs and took the take. And heaven help us if we held out on him. I ran away as soon as I thought I could make it on my own. I haven't seen that place in a dozen years--was hoping for a few decades more."

"Well, it's naught but timber and pitch." Eric says. "There's no one here to harm us now."

Oh really? The Shadows haven't gone anywhere. But we need to get moving, and I suspect that The Shadows won't let us get around this. We head up the steps of the foundling home. I take a deep breath, then open the doors. We step through. The halls are empty. It's just as I remember it. We reach the back door. And just like that, we're back in the sewer tunnels. The buildings are gone as if they'd never been there. Probably never were.

There IS something new, however. The sound of boots. The Bullyboys seem to have tracked us down. Time to get moving. We start to run.

The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 4)

Part 4: Saints and Jokers

They aren't that far ahead of me. They make slightly less noise than a herd of cattle. I wrap the cloak around the blade to dampen its light--no sense alerting them too soon. I can hear them talking to someone.

Boil and damn. That's Eric's voice. He sounds like he's trying to plead. There's some ugly laughs. He's cornered.

I pull the pistol from my belt. I guess I get to see if this thing works. I can see three, but I hear two more voices around the corner. Five bullyboys total. Not great odds. But Kneebreakers like them tend to be cowards. Sufficient shock and awe should scatter them for a bit.

I raise the pistol and aim it for one of the bullyboys. Careful. Ready...aim...squeeze the trigger...

Well. That didn't go exactly as planned.

No click. No flash. No boom. No downed bullyboy.

What went wrong? No time to figure it out...one of them is turning my way.

OK, time for Plan B--Shock and Awe the old fashioned way. I yank the dagger out, grab the edges of the cloak, wave my arms, and run at them howling "BLARG! I IS THE REDCAP COME TO PEELS OFF YER FACE!"

There's something gratifying about watching grown men scream like little girls and try to run in five different directions at once. I'm sure I'd do the same if I saw some lunatic with a glowing dagger and blood running down his face come swooping out of the dark at me. I reach the first goon, who's frozen in terror. I smell urine.

I whack him across the face with the pommel. He shrieks as his nose breaks, which is a nice counterpoint to the howls of terror. That should convince them that something deadly is here. They go scrambling away, and I reach Eric, who's on his knees muttering something. Probably a prayer of protections. He hadn't even drawn his sword. "Time to go." I tell him.

"Gaven?" he stutters. Probably never expected to see me again. I pull him to his feet, and lead him back the way we came, towards the fall.

"That won't stop them for long." I mutter. "As soon as they realize there's no monsters, they will be back, twice as mad. We should hide."

He nods numbly, and we hop down. I get wet. Again. But this time I'm expecting the ground. We rush down the tunnel junction, into the dark. We run, taking tunnels at random, for a while. After a quarter of an hour, we stop to rest. I lean against the wall, exhausted.

"You certainly gave me a start." he says. "I thought my heart would stop. I actually believed the Redcaps were coming."

"They very well could be." I grumble. "For all I know, those goblins live in these tunnels. Probably to avoid being hunted by day."

“I thought that might be a Redcap's hat.” he mutters. “So they ARE in Miir. We'd heard rumors...never took them seriously.”

“Better start. We may met the whole clan later, and fighting Redcaps is not an experience I care to repeat.” I shiver, then take a moment to examine the pistol. Ah. Here's the problem. I went after them half-cocked. No wonder it didn't fire. I remedy this.

"Where did you get that?" Eric asks.

"Let's just say we aren't the only criminals to use these tunnels and leave it at that. Where now?"

He looks around. He gets a concerned look on his face, and I feel my heart sink. I know what he's about to say. "I don't know. We're lost."

Wow. THIS is familiar. Roaming around in the dark, no idea where to go. At least there's no signs of pursuit--we've lost the bullyboys. The smell has become incredible. We're now out of the sewers with fresh drinkable water. These are the bowels of Miir. Don't drink the water.

We come across a niche in the wall. A serene statue looks out across the muck, an expression of contemplation on his features. Eric stops. He kneels by the statue. I'm confused.

"Who builds this kind of thing in a sewer?" I murmur. Eric shushes me. He's praying again. "Who is he?" I ask.

"He is a saint, and he watches these tunnels." Eric says reverently. "Placed by the workers to watch over them. Do you have a coin?"

"Huh?"

"Pay them a coin, and they'll be your patron."

Great. Even the Saints must be bribed in Miir. But who am I to judge? In Calisipas, the Dragon sees all, but outside Calisipas, the Dragon's not there, as the saying goes. I pull 2 coins. Eric places them beneath the statue's feet. Well, there's 2 good coins I'll never see again. The Saint's protection had better be worth it.

We move on. Our daggers gleam in the darkness as we pick our way through the tunnels. We seem to be going in a slow spiral out of the city. Something strikes me. Not that I don't appreciate the light, but where, exactly, does someone on a typical guards salary get fireglass? I figured that the dagger that he gave me is the same one that was taken away when I was recaptured this morning, stolen from a lockbox. But his dagger seems to be an exact copy of mine. Made by the same knife maker, at the very least, possibly part of a set. I'd like answers.

"These daggers are handy, Eric. I wish I'd had one when I tried to pull the job I got pinched for--might not have gotten locked up." I say. He ignores me."In fact, I was under the impression that fireglass was something of a rarity. I mean, I've only seen it used in The Bastion."

"Well, then, I suppose you should count yourself fortunate." He grunts. We climb up a dry tunnel. No sludge here. It's a relief.

"Sure. Fortunate. You know, I found one of these in a house I robbed last night. Near some dragon claw quills. Those aren't common things, either."

"You're admitting a crime to an officer of the law?" He grumbles. He clearly doesn't like this conversation.

"Well, you sprang me from jail and you're on the run, so I don't think you're in a position to arrest me. And I did save your life."

"I appreciate that, Gaven, but I don't know if you've actually done me a favor. There are worse fates than in the hands of Lord Dythanus."

"Yeah. At least they didn't take your light from you, eh? Then you'd be screwed."

He whirls around. His face bounces between emotions. There's rage, fear, sadness and...guilt? It takes him a moment to compose himself. "If you please, I would prefer to return to silence, rather than listen to you tempt fate by mocking The Shadows."

That's certainly interesting. Reading marks is an acquired skill of mine. I think over what his reaction has told me. One, he's more terrified of The Shadows than the Bullyboys. Two, He's hiding something. Three, he feels bad about the secret he carries.

The Bullyboys wore the uniforms of the other guards in this city, but mentioned payment from some "Lord Dythanus." It's not the first time I've had run-ins with city authorities being used as hired muscles for nobles. Even Longshankes could swing that. Still, Eric didn't seem this tense last night when he lead me out to the gates. Nervous, yes but not like this. And he had a candle then.

There's a glow up ahead. I stow my questions. We have some company. While I'd like answers, I don't want them enough to get attacked. We put our daggers away, plunging us into darkness. The light up ahead isn't moving. It's a constant glow, not a flicker like firelight. I creep forward, while beside me a blade is pulled from a scabbard. Really, Eric. You couldn't have done that earlier against the bullyboys? I peek into the tunnel. There's nothing there. A seam in the rock glows a soft orange. It's natural fireglass. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Hello, there. What's this?

The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 3)

Part 3: Fortunes

Eric catches up quick. Not hard...it's difficult to run down here, it's damp and slippery. Fortunately, the guards have as much trouble.

"There's no point in running, Eric!" One shouts. “Lord Dythanus would like some words with you! Give yourself up! Stand and deliver yourself, and maybe we won't break all your bones!”

“That doesn't sound like a city watch.” I say to him as we run down the slick granite tunnel.

“They aren't.” He replies.

“He's got someone with him, Gotz!” I hear.

“Hey! You there! Trip your friend up, and we'll reward you well!”

Like hell I will. My only reward from bullyboys like these will be a swift trip down these sewers with my head smashed open.

We run for half a minute, turn, keep running. The tunnels are slick, and...oh...no...My feet give out, and the tunnel angles down...And I'm sliding, out of control. I slip into the rushing water beside the path. No! I can swim, but this is a torrent! Can't fight it...Rushing...tumbling...water, water, everywhere...BANG my head against a wall...seeing stars...current getting stronger...break surface! Gasp! Very dark...dagger not helping...There's a rushing, thundering sound...Oh god, the water ENDS! paddle against current...no use...going over-

I am sick to death of flying like this.

...And then landing like this. OW! I gasp for a while, trying to get my breath back. I think I broke something when I landed. I HURT. At least I'm on a ledge again, instead of in the water. The tunnel past the fall is a T junction. Nice landmark. Don't really want to move.

The bullyboys won't take too long figuring out what happened, though. I should at least get out of sight. Let them think I drowned. I struggle to my feet. A stone clatters behind me. Apparently, I DID break something...there's a hole in the wall.

And something glitters. It must be a cache, set up so some thief could find his take later, after the heat wore off. I've used similar caches in the past. This is lucky.

Too lucky. Why would they place it here, deep beneath the city streets? Desperation, perhaps? What else makes sense? Dragon take it. I'm due for some good luck to balance out all my bad. If I get out of Miir, some coin would serve me well. I used the dagger to open the whole wider. No pockets--going to have to improvise. I scoop the alcove out onto my cloak, then wrap it into a makeshift sack. Then I limp off and hide.

Not a moment too soon...there's a commotion up near the tunnel I fell through. I quickly wrap my dagger to hide the light. I hear voices.

"Shadows take it. He's gone."

“Was that the Exile?”

“Think so. Shadow snuff it! We'll never get him now!”

"Forget the Exile. We can pick him up in the morning, or let him die down here. Either way he doesn't matter."

"What about the deadbeat? Can't we just let him die here, too? Aren't we just going to kill him anyway?"

“You want to tell Lord Dythanus we let his prize go? No deadbeat, no payment. Way I figure, The Lord has something special in mind for this guy, something he wants more than a corpse. I'm not really interested in replacing the deadbeat in whatever funny game he's got planned, so we need him alive. Got it?”

“And the Exile? What's he want that pile of trouble?”

“I don't know. Why don't you ask him when we deliver him? And that's alive as well, blockhead. Kill either, we don't get out pay. But we can come back for him later.”

They head away. Looks like Eric found another passage. Well, great. I lost my guide. At least the guards aren't looking for me right now. And, hey, Naros gets his wish, too. I'm in a position to do "nothing" as the bullyboys get him. I don't feel good about that.

I've had bullyboys like them after me after I came up late to Longshankes. it wasn't pleasant. I've known people crippled after such visits. Eric seemed like a decent sort. And...oh, God. Am I seriously considering this? I don't owe him anything. I need to look after myself.

Speaking of which, I'd better check that stash I grabbed. I set down the cloak. Ah...Coin. Doesn't do me much good, but see how it shines! There's a decent amount of coin here, all gold. Enough to live comfortably on for a few months - or put a huge dent in my debt to Longshankes.

There's a coil of rope here--that's handy. I would have loved some rope last night. What's this horn here for? it's full of dark powder. And what are all these lead balls for? That's useless. I should just toss these...hello. What's this? Oh. OH! now I see. Powder, ball and...

...a pistol.

I've heard of these things--remnants of the Empire. A flint sparks a steel, ignites this powder, which propels the lead ball. Longshankes would kill for something like this--It's more than enough to square my debt to him. Or I could shoot him with it. Either way, my troubles with him would be over. What a lovely thought...ah. True freedom. I just have to get out of here to win it.

All I would have to do is leave Eric to the bullyboys. Just walk away, find a tunnel out, leave Miir. Leave him to the Shadows. Which is exactly what Naros wants. I wonder if he set this up, left this for me to find somehow. I don't trust that. I don't want to owe him.

I spend a minute or so trying to figure out how to load this Dragon-taken thing. Then I stick the flintlock in my belt. I climb back up the tunnel side near the falls. It wasn't much of a drop. I'm lucky I didn't open any of my wounds. By the light of the dagger, I can see a tunnel open to the left. I missed seeing it when I was sliding. The bullyboys are headed that way.

I could go back up the tunnel. I think I could find my way back to the well. Let the bullyboys and Naros and the Shadows take Eric. I wipe some sweat and water from my face. My hand is red. Blood? Did I hurt myself and not know it? I touch my head...and the cap on it.

Of course. The bloody cap I took from the goblin last night. I'd forgotten I was still wearing it. The cap got wet, the blood seeped out. I put it out of my mind and keep going...I've turned to the left. Great. Am I really going to try and take on the bullyboys? Alone?

I'm not leaving Eric to their tender mercies. I'm not letting Naros win. I owe Eric for trying to help me. Sod the Shadows.

The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 2)

Part 2: Another Version of the Truth

We travel on in silence for a while.

I have this bad, bad feeling in my gut. Both of us have been marked by The Shadows. He probably wants me around so that when they come, he has something to throw in front of them.

There are things that I don't know about The Shadows. But after last night, any doubts I had that they exist and are malevolent are gone. I pissed Naros off, too. He claimed he was keeping the worst of the night's terrors away from me so I could be his errand boy. It was easier not to believe him then.

Now? I need to know more about what I'm up against. Facts, not superstition.

"You have me at a disadvantage." I say, breaking the silence. "I never caught your name."

"I never tossed it out to you." He replies.

"Well, I have to figure that whatever you're running from, it already knows who you are. What harm is there in telling me? I'm no demon."

"Only the mad, possessed, or desperate chose Exile. You don't seem crazy and you weren't facing death. Which does that leave?"

Nice. "Ignorance." I reply. "You know I'm not a native. We don't have a battery full of evil spirits looking to eat souls in the city I'm from."

He stops, and looks at me. "Is that what you think the Shadows are? Evil spirits?"

"That's what I was told." I say.

"The Shadows are evil, right enough. But they aren't any outside force. They are born from the darkness within people's hearts."

“Right. So the Shadows are ghosts, then. Same difference.”

He glares at me. “No. You still don't understand. Perhaps I can enlighten you before you make a tragic mistake. When our first lord, Naros of Miir, wanted to unite the tribes to defend our lands from the empire, he had to overcome the other tribes. He built a device of potent magic, and then turned it on the squabbling chiefs, stripping them of their fears and hates and darkness. To keep the tribes united, he built the tower to hold the device, and lock away the evil that split hearts in two and poisoned allegiance."

"But the evil in man's heart is a reservoir that can never be fully drained. It fills, over and over, and the tower drinks it all up. And, when the evil grows too great for device to contain, it spills back out. It does this at night, when God no longer watches his works."

Great. Another, totally different story for how the Shadow came to be and what they are. "And what happens to this leaky evil?" I ask.

"It seeps into the streets, pooling there until it can return back to the hearts of pure men, tainting them with greed and corruption."

Lovely images. Right up there with that dragondung about demons watching from the tower.

"So why worry? It doesn't sound like The Shadows can really *do* anything."

He glares at me. "The Shadows have power. Terrible power. The darkness attracts other darkness. Murders! Thefts! Rape! And it calls to monsters, fills them with hate, and encourages them to prey. The only way to save your soul from the shadows is to keep yourself pure." His faces falls. "And I, to my sorrow, have failed in that. Perhaps it is not too late for you, though...”

Oh wonderful. I'd better stop him before he tries to convert me or something. “As interesting as all this is," I respond, "I don't really see how it stops you from telling me your name."

He sighs."What does it matter?"

"Mostly it's because I don't feel like shouting, 'Hey! You!' if I need to get your attention." I say.

"Very well. If you must call me something, call me Eric. I deserve no other titles." Eric, huh? That name sounds familiar somehow.

This sewer is a lot cleaner than I'd expected. No filth, just mold growing in the damp.

I ask Eric about it.

"These are reservoir channels for clean water. Mixing clean water and dirty would sicken everyone in Miir." He says. Makes sense.

He puts up a hand. "Wait here. I'm going to scout ahead. We're near an entryway to the Pen, and the guards might be looking for us now."

Fine with me. We've been crawling through these tunnels a while, and I could use the rest. I watch his light bounce down the tunnel. Alone. I listen to the drip of water echo through the tunnels, and try to ignore the musk of mildew. There's a clink, like a silver chain.

Wait.

I whirl into a standing position, holding the fireglass blade at the ready. Sure enough, there he is, there at the edge of the light.

Naros.

"Good evening, Gaven." He says. Calm, pale bastard.

"Should I stab you now and get it over with? Or let you promise false things?" I ask.

"Peace, Gaven. I am not here to harm you. I should, after you let her escape. But I am a generous sort, and again I find you useful."

"Right. I thought I made my intentions clear this morning. I'm not doing your dirty work. Oh, and I have the knife on you now, so no coercion."

"Ah, but it is such a simple task that I ask, and the rewards will be well worth the tiny effort." I think he smiles. I don't like that.

"Apparently I'm foolish enough to listen. What the fuck do you want, Naros? What are you offering me?" Why am I listening to his garbage again?

"Very simply, my offer is that I forget about last night's disobedience. I will return to keeping the worst of the Shadows away from you."

"That's it? Your offer is that you do nothing important? I faced the Shadows last night, Naros. I didn't do to badly." I say, ignoring my wounds.

"Indeed? Then, if you do not value my generous offer to keep the true horrors of Miir away, then I again offer you the chance for legend."

"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll consider it."

The light from the dagger sparkles off of his teeth as he grins. "Why, nothing." What dragondung is this? "You've made it clear you won't act in my name. So I offer you the chance for inaction, when the time comes."

"And what time will that be?" I hate it when he grins like that.

"Why, when The Shadows come to collect your companion's debt, of course."

"No deal, Naros. I don't have a problem denying your spirit friends their fun with the poor guy, and I'm not handing him over to you."

"You may feel differently later, once you learn why The Shadows want him. I'll give you some time to consider. You know how to summon me."

He turns, and walks back into the darkness. Great. Just sodding great. As if we didn't have enough to worry about. I don't like this. Naros has changed his tactics. He came at me as an equal, instead of threatening me with doom. Something has changed in this game. But what?

I don't have time to ponder long. I see Eric's light heading back this way. Hmm. It's moving rather fast, and I can hear his footfalls. And not just his. Dragondung. There's more lights. It seems the guards have found us! Time to go. Down the intersection...down and away!

The Tale of The Exile--The Second Night: Though the Belly of Miir (Part 1)

Part 1: Swallowed Down

The day passes.

They bind my wounds and then toss me into my cell. I don't mind. After last night, the cell is quiet, I get fed, and I rest. If I had a choice now, I'd chose the cell over Exile. I told one of the guards as much. He seemed sympathetic, but sympathy is no use to me.

Naros is still out there, waiting for his chance at revenge. I screwed him over; there's no way he's going to just let me live that down. I can't do anything about it now, so I rest, to face the night prepared.

I don't sleep well. Too many nightmares. It's better than nothing.

I'm awoken by a key turning in the lock. "Just a few more minutes, ma," I quip.

"Be quiet!" a voice hisses.

That's odd.

I wake fully. Lights flicker from the tiny window. The street lights are still burning. It's not midnight yet. "What is this?" I say, turning to the door.

There's only one guard there. He looms over me, paunchy and middle-aged but still formidable-looking, like a tired old bear. I recognize him from last night. The guard from the courtroom, who promised to set me free. My heart leaps.

"Be silent, if you value our lives!" he insists. Fine by me. He leads me through the halls. He doesn't manacle me. He looks quite nervous. We pass by other guards, bored, not paying attention. We reach the street. "Follow me. And for Shadow's sake, don't say anything! I'm taking an awful risk for you." I nod.

He hands me some rags. There is something inside the bundle of rags, hidden from view. He leads me further into the Bastion, towards a cistern. "In!" he says. I don't have to be told twice. I dive into the cistern, and swim. It's not much different than the canals of Calisipas. I've escaped from mobs this way.

He follows behind. I dive down a tunnel. It's a long, long swim. Eventually, however, I feel an opening above my head, and surface. He pops up behind me. We climb to a bank and pull ourselves up. The surface is slimy with molds, and the air is foul. But I'm free!

I open the rag bundle. It's the fireglass dagger! The light is welcome in this dark tunnel. I turn to my benefactor. "I really don't know--"

"Quiet!" he hisses, his eyes darting around in the gloom. "We aren't out of the city yet, Exile. They will notice we're missing soon."

"Right. The name's Gaven, though. Not Exile." I extend a hand. He doesn't take it. Instead, he draws a fireglass dagger of his own. We walk.

These tunnels are eerie. They meander, without any rhyme or reason. The turns come at odd angles, rise and fall in elevation at random. It's a half-hour before we stop at a crossroads, and he finally speaks. "Good. They haven't thought of searching The Belly yet."

"What is this Belly, then?" I ask. I have an uncomfortable chill. Surely not the Dragon's Belly, where sinners swallowed The Dragon burn forever...

He sighs. "Miir has many volcanic tunnels. These ones are lined with granite, to keep the water flowing."

So it's a natural sewer, then. That explains the odd turns everywhere. The tunnels weren't built, just adapted. "And our destination?"

"The tunnels NOT lined with granite. And from there, the Ivthian Mountains, where we can be free of this cursed place forever." He says.

He uses the term 'We' a lot, I notice. "Not to sound ungrateful, but why are you doing this?"

He looks pained. "I have no choice. Leave it."

"No." I say. "All night, I dealt with shadows, mages, and spirits who only gave me half-answers. I want a whole one, or you're on your own."

He looks at me, frightened. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm not going to be jerked around. Tell me what's going on, or I find my own way out."

He sighs. "I suppose I should expect no less, if our positions were different. Very well. I told you last night I would help you escape. I find myself needing to leave the city, too. I have run up a huge debt that I cannot repay. I figured that there is strength in numbers."

"Ah. Loan sharks. I know their kind well." Too well. I came to Miir to escape my own debt to Longshankes. "Why brave the Shadows, though?"

He looks even more miserable. "My debt is to them." he says. Flame and Dragonfire. This is going to be a long night.

The Six Noble Houses of Miir

The city of Miir is ruled by an aristocracy of six extended families known collectively as the Houses of Miir. Each of the Houses has control of at least one of the major trade guilds that allow the city to function. Each House is comprised not only of the families themselves but various members of Miir's gentry, guild inductees, and private mercenaries, and various rivalries and power struggles between interests are a common aspect of Miirian politics. Armed conflict between the Houses is not uncommon, though most such skirmishes fall far short of full-scale civil war.

Originally, there were a total of 13 Houses, but time and infighting have whittled down the original families, and new houses have formed. At various points in Miir's 850 year history, there were as many as 18 Houses and as few as three.

Each of the houses has one over-reaching goal: to control the Tower of Miir. The head of a House that controls the Tower not only rules his house but sets policy for the entire city, and gains tremendous power. Plotting control of the Tower (and removing the current Ruling House from power) is a favorite pastime for all the House Rulers. In practice, however, the fall of a house from the Tower is cause for civil war, and most House Rulers prefer to work to keep the other Houses from gaining enough power to both take and keep the Tower rather than attack the Ruling Family directly and risk open warfare.

House Kaje

House Kaje seal
by Anson Brehmer

The current Ruling House of Miir is House Kaje. House Kaje is one of the older houses in Miir, with a line stretching back to the great war between elves and humans. The Kaje family controls the Mason's guild, and they like to claim that most of Miir was built by them. They also have a strong interest in peacekeeping around Miir, and fund the city watch. This gives them a lot of influence (It's easy to win an argument when you can say "we guard you while you sleep and keep your homes from caving in on you") and there are rumors that House Kaje masons have installed secret passages in many of the buildings they work on, passages that only the House Elders know about and can use.

House Kaje is also related to House Miir, the family line that founded the city. The Miir bloodline married into the House before House Miir fell to the machinations of the Von Hasturs, and Damien Kaje himself is a direct male descendant of Naros Miir, the first Lord of Miir. Strange rumors about Damien Kaje abound: he's never seen during the day, he hates holy symbols, he has wings and flies around at night, etc. None of these rumors have proven true, but of all the leaders of Miir he does seem to have the least to fear from The Shadows.

Lord Damien Kaje is the current head of House Kaje, in addition to his duties as the Lord of the Tower.

House Von Jeggett

House Von Jeggett seal
by Anson Brehmer

House Von Jeggett is the strongest of the Houses in terms of force of arms, but the house is in serious trouble. House Von Jeggett has traditionally controlled Miir's military and was a formidable power during the Human-Elf wars that occurred during the start of the Current Epoch. However, Miir has faced no serious military threats in over a century. The constant vigilance that House Von Jeggett maintains is appearing more and more pointless with every passing year, and the mercenaries and bounty hunters of House Kaje have largely supplanted House Von Jeggett's role in protecting the precious trade caravans that supply Miir.

The increasingly desperate House elders are contemplating starting war with other Ivthain tribes, simply to get the resources they need from House Kaje. They have also been training Caliban, mutants born of twisted magic, into a fighting force in a bid to compete with House Kaje's forces. It remains to be seen how well this gamble plays out for the beleaguered house. There are rumors that the House has actually learned how to create Caliban within its ranks. One source of this rumor centers around their support of Le Cirque d'Aberrations, a traveling carnival that has set up shop in Miir, in which all members of the crew are Caliban and new members seem to appear with alarming regularity.

The current head of the house is Lord Oswald Von Jeggett.

House Mordok

House Mordok seal
by Anson Brehmer

House Mordok is the oldest of the six Great Houses. House Mordok was one of the original 13 Great houses and has survived mainly because the House Elders prefer to rule from behind the scenes rather than overtly control the Tower. This house has only gained control of the city 5 times since Miir's inception, but remains a power to be reckoned with because they control a resource none of the other Houses have yet been able to match: House Mordok has magic. It is an open secret that House Mordok controls the city's Wizard Guild, which regulates the use of magic and the availability of enchanted items. Practice of wizardry in Miir without a Guild registration is forbidden. The guild is very picky about who it allows to have a license, and very few non-humans make the cut. This exclusivity keeps magic in the hands of the "deserving," or so the House claims. This attitude, however, may prove the house's undoing.

House Dythanus has recently opened its doors to magic users who are unable or unwilling to bend to the Wizard's Guild rule. Many Half-Bloods, unable to find acceptance anywhere else, have been welcomed with open arms by House Dythanus, and rumors are spreading that Dythanus is secretly training magic-users and breeding Half-Bloods within its ranks. House Mordok has no proof of these rumors, but it keeps a watchful eye on the young house, waiting for any pretext to go to war.

Lord Wilhelm Mordok is the current head of this house, though his brother Cireulan Mordok holds the title of Archmage in the mages guild. The two do not get along.

House Von Hastur

House Von Hastur seal
by Anson Brehmer

House Von Hastur is one of the oldest houses in Miir, behind House Mordok. It is also one of the wealthiest houses, behind House Von Krueger. It has controlled Miir more times than any other house except House Miir. This has always been a problem for the House elders...House Von Hastur always seems to come in second best, and that thought gnaws at the elders and fuels their ambition.

House Von Hastur controls the Merchant's Guild of Miir, and has a lot of economic pull within the community. The House has the reputation of being power hungry, ambitious, and untrustworthy, and this reputation has worked against it. House Von Hastur is rapidly losing ground to House Von Krueger. Independent merchants have banded together in an attempt to fight against the Merchant Guild's oppressive and heavy-handed policies, and the house elders suspect Von Krueger support. The shadow war that is brewing between the two houses threatens the very stability of the city, and House Kaje has yet to step in to this dispute.

A very weird rumor circulating about this house is that the scions are all part of a cult dedicated to a figure known only as "The King in Yellow." The rumor has it that all the house scions are required to undergo bizarre and blasphemous initiation rights and have a strange glyph known as "The Yellow Sign" tattooed somewhere on their bodies, granting them magical powers. Most folk disregard this rumor.

The current head of this house is Lord Boris Von Hastur.

House Dythanus

House Dythanus Seal
by Anson Brehmer

House Dythanus is the youngest of the Six Houses, having come into existence scarcely a century ago. The house was formed by a clan of Elven expatriates fleeing south for some unknown crime. The Elves quickly took root in the city, taking control of various gambling, vice, and prostitution rings. House Dythanus specializes in "entertainments." They work to provide a good time to anyone looking for it. They provide outlets for prostitution, gambling, and narcotics as well as more legitimate venues such as theaters and opera houses. House Dythanus is also one of the more cosmopolitan houses, accepting members who are human, Half-Bloods, or elven, as well as Shadow Fey and Caliban. This diversity has helped the house gain power, but has not helped its reputation among the other Houses.

Another reason House Dythanus is not taken as seriously by the other Houses is the fact that they were the ones who brought Ten Monkey 'Halfcheek' Xian, who later rebelled against the houses and formed the Gorgeous Gang, into Miir in the first place. This embarassing loss of face has never been entirely forgotten.

Hungry for advancement in Miirian politics, House Dythanus has recently opened its doors to magic users who are unable or unwilling to bend to the Wizard's Guild rule. Many Half-Bloods, unable to find acceptance anywhere else, have been welcomed with open arms by House Dythanus, and rumors are spreading that Dythanus is secretly training magic-users and breeding Half-Bloods within its ranks. House Mordok has no proof of these rumors, but it keeps a watchful eye on the young house, waiting for any pretext to go to war.

Lady Sylvia Dythanus is the current head of the house.

House Von Krueger

House Von Krueger Seal
by Anson Brehmer

House Von Krueger controls the Miner's Guild, and is the wealthiest of the Great Houses. They are also seen as one of the weakest of the Houses, because the House has never yet gained control of the Tower of Miir. This perceived weakness rankles the house elders, for they control the most powerful guild in the city. Without the Miner's Guild, the city would grind to a halt, and the house elders have entertained the idea of creating an embargo on their minerals at one time or another to reinforce that fact. However, since such an act would likely result in an open House War, such plans have never seen fruition.

Another mark of weakness is the House's reputation for decadence and excess. Rumors of the house elder's sexual appetites range from merely lascivious to rumors of truly bizzare fetishes, incest, and extreme deviancy in the ranks of the scions of the House. No sane Miirian wants to know the truth behind the rumors of House Von Krueger "Parties."

House Von Krueger also controls the Miirian slave trade. Slaves, indebted criminals, and indentured servants make up the bulk of House Von Kreugar's workforce, and the House has been known to fund press-gangs when workers get scarce.

While the Miner's Guild is powerful, it has very little influence inside the city proper, since most of the mines are far from the city limits or deep beneath the city streets. Instead, the Merchant's Guild, run by House Von Hastur, has the most in-city influence, and rivalries between the two guilds are fierce. in recent years, House Von Hastur has been rapidly losing ground to House Von Krueger. Independent merchants have banded together in an attempt to fight against the Merchant Guild's oppressive and heavy-handed policies, and the house elders suspect Von Krueger support. The shadow war that is brewing between the two houses threatens the very stability of the city, and House Kaje has yet to step in to this dispute.

Lady Vanessa von Krueger is the current head of this house.