[Earthborn candidate #254726, Function increase level 5 cluster]

  Name: Finn Race: Human Class: Mage Subclass: None

  Level: 8 Experience Energy: 92% to next level

  Strength: 17

  Stamina: 17

  Endurance: 18

  Dexterity: 21

  Intelligence: 29

  Wisdom: 27

  Charisma: 17

  Health Points: 162 Mana Pool: 175 Mana Regen: 1.745 MP per minute

  Carry Weight: 483 lbs Potion Sensitivity: 17.5 (level 3)

  Survivability Index: 4.23%

  Skills: Tracking level 10, Enchant Item level 2, Craft Spell level 2, Surge Level 1, ????, ????, ????

  “It’s here, in the last cell of this branch of the dungeons,” Nelson said, pointing to a spot on the blueprint of the lowest level of the palace. The dungeons were three levels deep, though they only used the top level for prisoners. He had shuffled through layers of plans, like he had raided a courthouse archive in one of those heist movies.

  “See? It leads into the sewers right there,” he said triumphantly. Quickly, he shuffled to the sewer map, showing the general area. There, the lowest dungeon level was smack in the middle of several of the tunnels and channels that bore waste and water away from the palace. He pulled out another section of the sewer map, revealing where it emptied into a swamp south of the city.

  Harper hugged herself tight, looking at the map. She had mostly calmed down with the calamitous entrance of the chamberlain, but the sight of the tunnels and channels that emptied into bigger and deeper tunnels clearly wasn’t helping her state of mind. Juan stood stroking his goatee and mustache, deep in thought, while looking at the maps.

  “Yes. This could work. How is the mercenary company deployed? Are they actually all in town?” Juan asked.

  “The mercenaries, General Venegas? They are both in the capital and outside of it, blocking passage to the southeast road and gate. And their main camp is to the south, near the swamp,” Chamberlain Nelson replied.

  Juan frowned. “Hmmm. That’s a problem. We need to head in that direction.” He contemplated me. “Finn, let me know if your disembodied friend makes any comment on this barrier to getting to the caves.”

  “I can. The Voice has said nothing about it yet.” I replied. As fickle as the Voice was, I wasn’t holding my breath. Nor was I looking forward to the Voice insulting me, or being a snide jerk.

  Juan glanced at his former student. “Are you going to be okay down there, mija?”

  “No, I’m not. But we don’t have a choice. We are going to need a few things, Nelson. Lamps—magical ones, if possible. I don’t want to blow up down there. We’ll also need food, blinders for the horses. Clean water. And some strong spirits. Maybe some wine as well,” she said, counting off on her fingers. Harper looked a little wild around the eyes, a little strained. But I saw strength underlying her vulnerability, the being willing to go down into her own personal hell.

  “You want to take the horses with you? Y-you realize we’ll have to bring them through the palace?” Nelson asked incredulously.

  She looked sharply at the Chamberlain. “Of course we’re taking the god-damned horses. They won’t like it, but the sewers are big enough for them, and I don’t know if I’ll be in any state to calmly steal more once we emerge. So, like, whatever the fuck you have to do to make it happen, just fucking do it,” Harper snapped.

  Juan put a calming hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged it off. “Damn it, old man! Just leave it!” She walked away from us and sat in a chair, legs over an arm.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  We all watched her for a moment, and the royal official nodded. “I’ll get your horses moved to the dungeon, though I’ll owe the Stable Master a favor or two for that. Alec will not like doing this to the horses. I’ll get the other things she asked for as well. None of it should be a problem. You should be ready to go within an hour.”

  “Thank you, Nelson,” Juan replied with a smile. “I can see how you earned this position.”

  Nelson perked up. “I appreciate that, General. I like to keep things organized, and I get nervous when things don’t go the way they are supposed to. L-like today. Now if you would excuse me, I must get everything moving.” With that, he bowed and quickly left.

  Juan pored over the sewer maps, tracing out a path. I pulled up my map, and it populated the sewers from the physical maps on the table. There seemed to be some areas of the sewers that were not clear of the fog of war, and I noticed Juan was tracing a route around the vaguely clouded areas. Likely, Juan had his own map up and was aware of what they were.

  A servant brought some refreshments for us while we waited. Juan had shown Harper the path he had picked out for us through the sewers before that, and she was silently considering it until the chamberlain led us down to the dungeons.

  “We really use little of the dungeons, as the last few kings have only employed them for high crimes against the crown. District jails handle everything else,” Nelson chatted, confidently. “I believe we have only one criminal down here at the moment. Oh, and watch your step there. I think that’s horse dung.” The chamberlain pointed out the manure as we walked down through the otherwise clean and dry holding cell-filled floors.

  “As you’ve likely noticed, it’s nice and cool down here, and we keep it in good repair. Ah, here we are, the bottom floor.” He pointed out the hallway leading to the ‘secret entrance’ to the sewers. Ahead, we saw the horses and a few stable workers keeping them calm.

  Gruffly directing them was a man in his fifties, shoulder-length hair tied back. He quickly took over from one of the stable hands and calmed Harper's gelding with a gentle and practiced ease. The man glared at the chamberlain. If he wasn't Stablemaster Alec, I would've been shocked.

  Each horse had a couple of lanterns on poles attached to its saddle. I spotted GB pawing at the floor, more disturbed by this than the other three horses. It was kind of odd that we were bringing the extra horse, but it seemed more than happy to stay with its fellows and carry most of our provisions.

  We looked over the supplies while Nelson argued quietly with the annoyed Stablemaster while waiting for the guard to find the right key to open the cell. From what I overheard, it was about how many bottles of brandy the Stablemaster would be getting. And how difficult it was to get my mare through the palace. Ever since the run-in with the quillotes, she had apparently decided she was a warhorse and had developed an ego to match.

  After checking the supplies in my saddlebags, I gave GB a treat, and she reaffirmed we were still tight by bumping me with her head. I laughed. “I like you too, girl. We’ll get through this, won’t we?” I said soothingly. She whinnied and checked my hands for more treats.

  When the cell finally opened, I saw the first instance of disrepair in the place—the hinges screeched and rust-red dust fell from them. The horses did not like the sound. GB acted like it was nothing, but I could tell she didn’t like it either.

  Nelson walked into the cell and pulled out some notes, looking over the walls. “It should be right here, but I don’t see it,” he said. With a straight stick, he tapped on the walls until he found an area that sounded different. “Does anyone see a button or a lever? Anything?”

  We all started checking the walls. We still had four hours before the mercenary commander’s deadline, but I didn’t know how long it would take to get through the sewers. A few minutes later, Harper found a button under a roughhewn section of wall, hidden from view. There was an audible click on the wall where the door should be. Instead of a hidden door opening, the entire wall swung out, the mechanism grumbling as the bottom of the wall scraped the floor.

  “Whoa,” I said intelligently.

  Juan snorted. “It’s just a large door. Convenient for us, but nothing fantastic. Someday, muchaho, you’ll have to see the Rainbow Fields of Noom, which only bloom for a week every four years. Or the magical caverns of Na’Saak, where ancient semi-aware crystals continually share and refract light from thousands of years ago. These are just some of the wonders that are deserving of your awe.”

  Harper stared into the darkness, her breathing fast. “I can do this,” she whispered. The stable hands brought us our horses before making a swift retreat. We turned the flameless magical lamps on. I shook my head at the ease of it, brightening from nothing with just the simple twist of the knob on the bottom. As soon as we were clear, they shut the wall, cutting us off from the upper world.

  We led the horses through the ancient brick tunnels, Harper guiding our party. The light from the lanterns reached only so far ahead of us, a discernible edge to the border between our light and the oppressive darkness. The rats avoided the light the best they could, but only just. Though mostly drowned out by the horses’ hooves, the sound of their scurrying and protesting squeaks kept us tense.

  “Are there turtles down here? I feel like there should be turtles down here,” I said cheerfully, trying to ease the tension. Harper glanced back at me with surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

  “Why would there be turtles down here, Finn?” Juan asked, seeming annoyed by the question.

  I gave him a deadpan look. “I just thought I smelled pizza a moment ago.”

  Harper snorted, her aura of radiating tension eased noticeably. She hadn’t relaxed her vigilance, but I got the feeling that she was less likely to go off the handle. God, I really hope she doesn't.

  “Pizza? What does that have to do with turtles?” Juan asked, looking at me like I was nuts. My allusion genuinely perturbed the old man. It hadn’t really been for him, though, as he wasn’t the one who had been stuck down here for days without light. “That makes zero sense, Finn. I don’t think anyone is making pizza in this city.”

  Harper halted, putting her fist up. She went from laughing at my joke and her old mentor’s confusion to on edge, to tense silence, her eyes wide.

  “What is it?” asked Juan softly.

  “Can’t you hear it?” she whispered, with more than a hint of horror in her voice. “The rats. They’ve all gone quiet.”

  Sewers have always been a fun part of both RPG's and horror stories, in my opinion. Not that this is a horror story, but dealing with the dark unknown and having to be aware of side tunnels, really increases the tension. Oh, and don't forget about the skittering things in the dark. It just gives me the shivers thinking about it!