May 20, 122PW
---
How did it go again? 'No rest for the wicked, and even less for a guard.' Aye, that was it.
Darrik was used to the hard grind of work. It was in a dwarf's blood to work, he reckoned. But even so, there was a limit to how much blimmin' paperwork he could stomach. He'd rather help Henrik muck out the cold room. Instead, as expected, he found himself the morning after his visit to the hospital plonked down in the Auxiliary Section sergeant's office writing his official reports rather than helping the cleanup detail for the Civic Court. What in the blazes was happening to his city?! Arson and explosives? And here he was with pen and paper ... 'In light of his recent injury' according to Sergeant Jack Iron. Darrik half expected it was just to allow Jack a captive audience for his latest batch of 'short jokes'. Of which the bastard had many. And all of them delivered with a poker face.
Jack had been rattling on while dealing with the incoming and outgoing despatch reports for his shift, which had almost doubled in the aftermath of the attack on the Gala and Civic Court "Now, I know you got the short end of the stick down there in the sewers, Darrik. But where there's magic, there's a report to Justice Hall. And where there's a report to Justice Hall there's a massive pain in the arse, no matter what else we may be dealing with. So we don't want to short-change them on details."
Darrik was also discovering that Jack had a knack for interrupting at a time which seemed to deliberately cut into a bloke's thought processes. "I recall you having a little fetish for missing person reports, Darrik my son, even the ones not assigned to you. How is that line of enquiry going?" The dwarf guard grimaced at Jack's question. The sergeant was referencing the reports he'd passed on to Darrik on the sly. As if he'd had a bloody hour spare to even look into those particular missing people beyond some cross-referencing of locations. Let alone the other minor crimes. What kind of pattern had Jack seen in them, anyway? Why still worry about them when there were bigger fish needing hooks in?
The dwarf mulled it over before responding "Not much, sarge. Pattern fits, as much as any disappearances can, and I'd be willing to wager good odds that we'll find some kind of underground access near where they vanished. There's somethin' weird goin' on under Marn. I can feel it all through my bones. I thought the sewers was a limited thing, right? Easy to maintain and keep cleared of problems. But them bloody rat abominations are a spanner in the works. Where are they hiding? And now we find there's foul stinking magic hiding sections of the sewer we haven't got recorded. How much more is down there in the way of tunnels? Vater always used to say this was an old city, but I didn't study much history outside o'the tomes. It's a blimmin' nuisance puzzle, with some nasty hazards attached to it. Not as hazardous as what happened at th'Gala, mind you." Darrik shook his head and returned to writing.
He got maybe ten minutes of peace and a couple more carefully written paragraphs done before Jack broke into his thoughts. "Now, this might be short notice, but we're going to need to secure the site where the wall is." Darrik put his pen down. "Now sarge, I know I promised to laugh when you told a good joke. This is one of those times, right?" Jack chuckled "No, I am afraid I shall have to witness that miracle on another day. Justice Hall have made it very clear in the past: when magic is found, we have to secure the site so they can send one of their redgloved devils down. Now, you've been scraped pretty badly from what Seventri tells me, so I don't think it'd be wise to send you down alone. Might extend Fitzgerald's contract for a short time. Can't spare too many guards, unfortunately, not with the damn mess at the Gala. Just thinking about that utter shitstorm makes me want to return to active duty and crack some heads. There's going to be trouble in the coming weeks, you mark my words"
Darrik was starting to lose count of how many short references Jack had managed to slip in, despite the otherwise serious nature of their discussion. "If I might interject, Sarge, but as good a head as the lad has on his shoulders, he lacks the nerve or sense to be getting in the way of danger - let alone helping secure a spot in the middle of the sewer against those aggressive rat bastards. However, he does have a knack for waterproofing kit for use in the sewers, which might be worth a bonus. But we'll need a couple of guards on site, at least until the battlemage arrives." The dwarf put pen back to paper, and Jack replied "You've got a point, Darrik. I'll see if Elrard has anyone he wants to recommend. There's always some serial whiner he'd like to have stop and smell the sewage. My own list of damn fools is pretty dry right now." Jack smiled broadly "It's a shame you're so good at sewer duty Darrik. You're definitely on the short-list of people who can best deal with that rat problem we have." Darrik wasn't sure if his sigh was due to the pun or the horrible truth to Jack's words. "Right you are, Sarge. Can I put in a requisition order for a replacement leather tunic for the one which got shredded while I'm at it?"
"Go ahead Darrik, go ahead. I'll sign off on it shortly, and anything else you think our lads'll need down there. Within reason, of course. Most resources are being funnelled into this issue of the Awakened Dragon. What kind of damn lunatics pick a name like that and go blowing up people? We're in for a rough month or two, I can smell the stench of it." Blessedly, with that last sly reference to his assigned duty, Darrik was then left in peace while he finished the paperwork. Jack, of course, had his own workload to deal with. The dwarf had to admit that Jack wrote with an impressive speed, the constant scritching almost metronomic in the swift regularity of its cadence, and the large human's handwriting was impeccably neat compared to Darrik's more workmanlike writing. Darrik's writing was legible, at least, if a bit crude and blockish compared to Jack's neat hand. After the morning's paperwork was done, Darrik was given part of the day off to aid in his recovery while guards were selected to assist in the work of securing the site.
New contract papers were forwarded to 'Fitzgerald Toastcruncher Fountainbloomer the Fourth', effective immediately should the gnome accept the contract, to assist in preparing sewer-appropriate kit for the guards, with considerations for further ongoing assistance to the guards if circumstances required it.
Darrik's full report was despatched in timely fashion to Justice Hall, to await their deliberation and inevitable selection of a battlemage to investigate the situation.
The dwarf guard was eventually called in to escort the rest of the guard contingent to their assigned location. Four guards, not including Darrik, were rostered into an overlapping shift to ensure there were always two present at the site of the illusionary wall. Darrik, instead, was ordered to remain on hand in the eventuality that Justice Hall or the battlemage required a liaison or guard escort. In which case, well, Darrik was pretty useful for that too. "Make sure you don't keep them waiting when summoned" Sergeant Iron had reminded him "Those redgloves can be pretty short-tempered".
Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Last edited by Darrik on Tue Aug 12, 2014 11:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Jacme threw his writing utensil down on the desk, rubbing his eyes irritably. He hated filling out shift reports. What happened to the days of just walking into the room, telling the watch sergeant, and then going on about your way? He would never get on patrol at this rate. He finally rose from his seat, grumbling as he gathered up the scattered paperwork. They would just have to take what he had written at face value. He hadn't been on the streets for three days, too busy taking care of bureaucratic nonsense. He had also done Jack a favour by teaching some new recruits a few things. And that in itself was a bigger headache than all the paperwork in the entire headquarters.
He turned in his paperwork at the appropriate desk making small talk with the man behind it before he started looking for the patrol sergeant. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to get some dirt and stone under his feet before they made his ass grow roots into a desk chair. He managed to hide a snort at the thought. He would never be a desk guard, like some of them were fine with being. He didn't manage to hide the half-shudder at the thought of slowly fat behind a stack of paperwork, slowly watching it grow taller and taller before it fell over and buried him. No thank you. Stick him back on the street. He finally found the patrol sergeant and asked for something. Anything.
"Got a guard detail on a entryway in the sewers. Jack just dropped it down on us."
"Sounds like a shitty job."
"It's what we've got. Your choice Jac."
Jacme nodded as he read over the paper that detailed what was expected. Simple enough. Guard the hidden entrance in the sewers, make sure no one went in, and wait for the team to get there. Their actions or requests would depend on his orders changing. Looked like he'd be working with Oleg today. Not a bad guard, little green, little excited about being a guard. But that would be a good thing. Maybe his excitement would make this job a little less boring. Jacme had no doubt that it was going to be standard for these kind of jobs, ten hours of standing and sitting around, maybe five seconds of excitement. It was nice, it was easy, it was boring. But at least it got him on the street, feeling the sun baked stones under his boots again.
He gathered his kit, gathered his new partner, who was already swaggering and talking at the same rate a horse galloped, and they headed for the bit of sewer that he had been told they were in charge of. According to the paperwork, it was an illusion of wall that concealed the entrance, and the team going in was going to inspect where it led. On the way, he stopped at a market stall and grabbed them both a bit of bread and sausages, a couple water skins. He had done plenty of watch details, and they always became worse when you realized you could start to eat boot leather for just a stomach filler. They arrived, taking their chosen positions. Jacme snorted quietly as Oleg stood at attention, eyes jumping up and down the sewer walls every ten seconds. The older guard leaned against the wall, taking most of his weight off his bad knee. That was the good part about wearing a cloak. He could lean against sewer walls. Ten hours of standing wasn't so good for the knees, even on a healthy and fit young man. He took a rag out of his pouch and started to wipe down and inspect his mace.
It was time to wait. The sewer where they had been told to station themselves still had a fairly strong stench of rot and death to it. Jacme had smelled enough death and rot to force the dry tickle the smell produced to the back of his mind and attempt to focus on the task at hand. He found that it helped. His partner on the other hand, was starting to turn a bit green.
He turned in his paperwork at the appropriate desk making small talk with the man behind it before he started looking for the patrol sergeant. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to get some dirt and stone under his feet before they made his ass grow roots into a desk chair. He managed to hide a snort at the thought. He would never be a desk guard, like some of them were fine with being. He didn't manage to hide the half-shudder at the thought of slowly fat behind a stack of paperwork, slowly watching it grow taller and taller before it fell over and buried him. No thank you. Stick him back on the street. He finally found the patrol sergeant and asked for something. Anything.
"Got a guard detail on a entryway in the sewers. Jack just dropped it down on us."
"Sounds like a shitty job."
"It's what we've got. Your choice Jac."
Jacme nodded as he read over the paper that detailed what was expected. Simple enough. Guard the hidden entrance in the sewers, make sure no one went in, and wait for the team to get there. Their actions or requests would depend on his orders changing. Looked like he'd be working with Oleg today. Not a bad guard, little green, little excited about being a guard. But that would be a good thing. Maybe his excitement would make this job a little less boring. Jacme had no doubt that it was going to be standard for these kind of jobs, ten hours of standing and sitting around, maybe five seconds of excitement. It was nice, it was easy, it was boring. But at least it got him on the street, feeling the sun baked stones under his boots again.
He gathered his kit, gathered his new partner, who was already swaggering and talking at the same rate a horse galloped, and they headed for the bit of sewer that he had been told they were in charge of. According to the paperwork, it was an illusion of wall that concealed the entrance, and the team going in was going to inspect where it led. On the way, he stopped at a market stall and grabbed them both a bit of bread and sausages, a couple water skins. He had done plenty of watch details, and they always became worse when you realized you could start to eat boot leather for just a stomach filler. They arrived, taking their chosen positions. Jacme snorted quietly as Oleg stood at attention, eyes jumping up and down the sewer walls every ten seconds. The older guard leaned against the wall, taking most of his weight off his bad knee. That was the good part about wearing a cloak. He could lean against sewer walls. Ten hours of standing wasn't so good for the knees, even on a healthy and fit young man. He took a rag out of his pouch and started to wipe down and inspect his mace.
It was time to wait. The sewer where they had been told to station themselves still had a fairly strong stench of rot and death to it. Jacme had smelled enough death and rot to force the dry tickle the smell produced to the back of his mind and attempt to focus on the task at hand. He found that it helped. His partner on the other hand, was starting to turn a bit green.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
"Rats?" Nashandra had asked when the reports first reached her, a hint of incredulity in her tone. She'd been working on the paperwork for a recent assignment before being interrupted, and her office seemed cluttered with the physical manifestations of her every thought and concern regarding her past month's work. Beside her stood Lorme Arphos: a young man, sharp and serious in both mind and attire. He was one of the newer clerks, whom she had recently appointed, rather informally, as her "assistant" in matters of administration.
"Abominations of magic," Arphos corrected her, having read the reports before passing them on to her. "At least nine dead, from what they could tell. More reported missing." He watched her closely, as she sat and read through the paperwork. There was a lengthy pause before he added: "The bodies they found were hidden behind an illusory wall."
Nashandra glanced up at this, but her expression reflected nothing of her thoughts. The younger man added in a low voice, "I've heard the judges are ... concerned."
"As they should be," the woman declared as she rose to her feet, her height exaggerated by the motion. "We should have ended this by now. Numerous deaths to a mage -- why did it take so long for word to reach us?"
Arphos shrugged helplessly, expressing all the care (or lack thereof) he had for matters outside of their own field of work. "They didn't lose anyone worth mentioning, and the guard thought the same as you: just a bunch of overgrown rats."
Nashandra sniffed audibly -- a sign of her displeasure -- and turned back to the papers in her hands. She wandered across the room slowly as she scanned through the reports. ... faces reminiscent of orcs ... as large as a dog ... appear to be organized attacks ... As she reached the door, the battlemage casually reached across and pulled the door open. After a pause, she glanced up momentarily as if expecting something, though her gaze expressed an intense disinterest. Arphos took the hint and made his way towards the door. He paused at the threshold as if to say more, but on a second thought seemed to change his mind, and quickly disappeared from view.
Once he was gone, Nashandra closed the heavy wooden door to her office and turned the lock into place. Of course, privacy was never ensured in the Hall, but it was worth the trouble to keep people from walking in at will, as they so liked to do. Nashandra knew she would need a day or two to ensure she was prepared before heading out into the field. Or the sewers, in this case. There was paperwork to arrange, people to talk to, and leads to seek. She had a few such leads, however weak, lying around in her office, several more at home, and several places she might find something more.
It was hard to guess what she might find, but Nashandra wondered at the waste of a person -- particularly a mage who was able to create long-term illusions and mutate animals -- spending their time disposing of nobodies in the sewers of Marn. Were they perhaps simply mad, or was this one step towards an issue which ran much deeper?
It wasn't entirely unusual for the odd magic user to start abusing their powers and losing their secrecy out of stupidity, fear or arrogance -- usually all three. But what could possibly be the motive for this recent killing spree, if not insanity? Was someone taking out enemies, or threats to business? The reports claimed the victims were nobodies, unrelated to each other, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. The guards were fine soldiers, but Katona's faith in their detective and forensic skills was not unwavering.
She sighed loudly as she reached for her list of recently suspected or confirmed illegal activities.
-------------------------------------------
The sun was creeping over the horizon as Nashandra entered Fort Omenbryn, decked in light leather armor and the familiar red gloves of her profession. As usual, most of the people she passed avoided her gaze while a few stared, but she paid no heed to any of them. After all, she couldn't remember a time when it was any different. Even in her days studying and training here, at the Fort, those she met, or worked with, would treat her with anything ranging from wariness to outright hostility. At rare times, they had even looked at her with pity, especially the elderly sort, those who'd seen the effects of magic's curse many times over their lives.
It was background noise, like everything else unrelated to her current goals.
Today she had arranged to meet this dwarven guard, the one who'd first found the bodies, along with the civilian contractor who'd accompanied him. One guard -- that was all they'd sent the first time around; had there really been no sign that something sinister was afoot? Perhaps the situation was only half as bad as they claimed, and they just wanted to shove the task onto the nearest mage out of fear. That, too, was familiar to Nashandra: the way anyone who wasn't magically touched themselves would recoil almost instinctively when faced with anything resembling the unholy craft.
It only bothered her when it was a waste of time and resources that could be better used elsewhere.
When Nashandra reached the rendezvous point -- the office of Sergeant Jack Iron, the man coordinating the guards' end of the investigation -- a clerk hurried over to escort her. He made sure to knock before opening the door to the office, and quickly closed it again once Nashandra had entered. With a brief glance, she noted the two non-humans seated nearby, before turning to the sergeant. "Thank you for your cooperation," she said, with as much sincerity as if she were reading it off of his forehead. Politeness when dealing with the guard was encouraged, of course. "I understand that you have the location secured. Is the escort ready to depart?"
"Abominations of magic," Arphos corrected her, having read the reports before passing them on to her. "At least nine dead, from what they could tell. More reported missing." He watched her closely, as she sat and read through the paperwork. There was a lengthy pause before he added: "The bodies they found were hidden behind an illusory wall."
Nashandra glanced up at this, but her expression reflected nothing of her thoughts. The younger man added in a low voice, "I've heard the judges are ... concerned."
"As they should be," the woman declared as she rose to her feet, her height exaggerated by the motion. "We should have ended this by now. Numerous deaths to a mage -- why did it take so long for word to reach us?"
Arphos shrugged helplessly, expressing all the care (or lack thereof) he had for matters outside of their own field of work. "They didn't lose anyone worth mentioning, and the guard thought the same as you: just a bunch of overgrown rats."
Nashandra sniffed audibly -- a sign of her displeasure -- and turned back to the papers in her hands. She wandered across the room slowly as she scanned through the reports. ... faces reminiscent of orcs ... as large as a dog ... appear to be organized attacks ... As she reached the door, the battlemage casually reached across and pulled the door open. After a pause, she glanced up momentarily as if expecting something, though her gaze expressed an intense disinterest. Arphos took the hint and made his way towards the door. He paused at the threshold as if to say more, but on a second thought seemed to change his mind, and quickly disappeared from view.
Once he was gone, Nashandra closed the heavy wooden door to her office and turned the lock into place. Of course, privacy was never ensured in the Hall, but it was worth the trouble to keep people from walking in at will, as they so liked to do. Nashandra knew she would need a day or two to ensure she was prepared before heading out into the field. Or the sewers, in this case. There was paperwork to arrange, people to talk to, and leads to seek. She had a few such leads, however weak, lying around in her office, several more at home, and several places she might find something more.
It was hard to guess what she might find, but Nashandra wondered at the waste of a person -- particularly a mage who was able to create long-term illusions and mutate animals -- spending their time disposing of nobodies in the sewers of Marn. Were they perhaps simply mad, or was this one step towards an issue which ran much deeper?
It wasn't entirely unusual for the odd magic user to start abusing their powers and losing their secrecy out of stupidity, fear or arrogance -- usually all three. But what could possibly be the motive for this recent killing spree, if not insanity? Was someone taking out enemies, or threats to business? The reports claimed the victims were nobodies, unrelated to each other, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. The guards were fine soldiers, but Katona's faith in their detective and forensic skills was not unwavering.
She sighed loudly as she reached for her list of recently suspected or confirmed illegal activities.
-------------------------------------------
The sun was creeping over the horizon as Nashandra entered Fort Omenbryn, decked in light leather armor and the familiar red gloves of her profession. As usual, most of the people she passed avoided her gaze while a few stared, but she paid no heed to any of them. After all, she couldn't remember a time when it was any different. Even in her days studying and training here, at the Fort, those she met, or worked with, would treat her with anything ranging from wariness to outright hostility. At rare times, they had even looked at her with pity, especially the elderly sort, those who'd seen the effects of magic's curse many times over their lives.
It was background noise, like everything else unrelated to her current goals.
Today she had arranged to meet this dwarven guard, the one who'd first found the bodies, along with the civilian contractor who'd accompanied him. One guard -- that was all they'd sent the first time around; had there really been no sign that something sinister was afoot? Perhaps the situation was only half as bad as they claimed, and they just wanted to shove the task onto the nearest mage out of fear. That, too, was familiar to Nashandra: the way anyone who wasn't magically touched themselves would recoil almost instinctively when faced with anything resembling the unholy craft.
It only bothered her when it was a waste of time and resources that could be better used elsewhere.
When Nashandra reached the rendezvous point -- the office of Sergeant Jack Iron, the man coordinating the guards' end of the investigation -- a clerk hurried over to escort her. He made sure to knock before opening the door to the office, and quickly closed it again once Nashandra had entered. With a brief glance, she noted the two non-humans seated nearby, before turning to the sergeant. "Thank you for your cooperation," she said, with as much sincerity as if she were reading it off of his forehead. Politeness when dealing with the guard was encouraged, of course. "I understand that you have the location secured. Is the escort ready to depart?"
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Sergeant Jack Iron could have named a hundred things he'd rather be doing than sharing a room with a battlemage. One of the things on that list included needles in his eyes. The most fervent Puradynes could wring their hands and talk about the mage's sacrifices for the city, but Jack recognised a coldness in the eyes of that particular breed of law enforcement. He wish he knew what kept the damn menaces so firmly on their leashes. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it.
The sergeant was also grateful that he could pass the battlemage right into the hands of the dwarf who'd been so damn efficient in bringing bad news to his door. Let Darrik deal with the battlemage, let the battlemage deal with the magic, and Jack'd happily deal with all the relevant paperwork. Equitable arrangement of labour, that.
So of course Jack was all smiles and the utmost courtesy when Nashandra Katona, known to be an icy bitch, entered his sanctum sanctorum. "Battlemage, always a pleasure to work with your lot to keep the city safe. Allow me to present to you Guardsman Darrik and the civilian adjunct, contracted as a navigator for the sewer complex, Fitzgerald Toastcruncher Fountainbloomer the Fourth." Jack secretly derived great pleasure from rolling out that monster of a name. Even if Darrik had once or a dozen times mentioned the gnome preferred the simpler moniker of 'Toast' for whatever reason. "They'll get you up to date on things on the way over. No point wasting time here, since you've already read the reports I sent. Best to go see in person."
As for the aforementioned escorts, Darrik had risen to his feet the moment Battlemage Katona had entered, and offered a snappy salute. Darrik was once more wearing fishermen's longboots and leather trousers along with the more regular items of his guard uniform. The guard was still showing signs of his most recent foray into the sewer: the bandaging on his left shoulder was fresh, and even his bushy facial hair wasn't enough to hide the raw red of the large claw marks across his left jaw and ear.
The dwarf had decided to stick to protocol and let it act like a shield against his innate dislike for anything magical. It helped, for now, to just think of Katona as another guard. "Ready to depart immediately, at your discretion. We have two men guarding the spot in question. Toast, here, will make sure we don't get lost on the way." Darrik nodded to his partner of the past few days.
The sergeant was also grateful that he could pass the battlemage right into the hands of the dwarf who'd been so damn efficient in bringing bad news to his door. Let Darrik deal with the battlemage, let the battlemage deal with the magic, and Jack'd happily deal with all the relevant paperwork. Equitable arrangement of labour, that.
So of course Jack was all smiles and the utmost courtesy when Nashandra Katona, known to be an icy bitch, entered his sanctum sanctorum. "Battlemage, always a pleasure to work with your lot to keep the city safe. Allow me to present to you Guardsman Darrik and the civilian adjunct, contracted as a navigator for the sewer complex, Fitzgerald Toastcruncher Fountainbloomer the Fourth." Jack secretly derived great pleasure from rolling out that monster of a name. Even if Darrik had once or a dozen times mentioned the gnome preferred the simpler moniker of 'Toast' for whatever reason. "They'll get you up to date on things on the way over. No point wasting time here, since you've already read the reports I sent. Best to go see in person."
As for the aforementioned escorts, Darrik had risen to his feet the moment Battlemage Katona had entered, and offered a snappy salute. Darrik was once more wearing fishermen's longboots and leather trousers along with the more regular items of his guard uniform. The guard was still showing signs of his most recent foray into the sewer: the bandaging on his left shoulder was fresh, and even his bushy facial hair wasn't enough to hide the raw red of the large claw marks across his left jaw and ear.
The dwarf had decided to stick to protocol and let it act like a shield against his innate dislike for anything magical. It helped, for now, to just think of Katona as another guard. "Ready to depart immediately, at your discretion. We have two men guarding the spot in question. Toast, here, will make sure we don't get lost on the way." Darrik nodded to his partner of the past few days.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
‘Married.. tsk!’ Darrik had been seeing things. Honestly. Nothing was further from Toast’s mind than getting married. And yet, somehow he couldn’t help hearing those words in his mind over and over again, nor could he help but feel himself pulled towards the Rusty Wheel again the next day. He really needed to stop making this an almost daily routine. But the food really was delicious, and of course the company was not for a loss either.
“Listen Pink, have you heard anything about something out of the ordinary that might be going on in the Sewers?” He wasn’t really expecting an answer with actual information but he couldn’t keep the surprised look off of his face when Pink grinned and pulled out a chair opposite him and sat down, a conspiratorial look on her face.
“You know, I’m really not sure how much truth there is in this but every bit of gossip has a true point of origin, buried somewhere deep down, right? So something might be true?” Pink looked at Toast expectantly and the gnome nodded encouragingly even though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant since she had no idea what she was on about.
“Ok, so there have been these rumours. People have been talking about it sometimes here late in the evening in hushed voices as though they were scared of being overheard by the wrong people. Of course the barmaid always hears more than they think.” Toast raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned. “Yes, sorry, I’ll stay on track. So these rumours. I’ve heard them mention more than once that there are weird noises down there, and footsteps that seem to belong to larger animals than rats, but nothing other than rats could be down there, surely? Anyway, there was also mention of strange activities but they weren’t too clear on what exactly it was. But you know what the best part is? Apparently there are passages in the sewers that the gnomes working the area didn’t know existed. And some of the less used routes have been walled up all of a sudden. Strange isn’t it?”
“What?” Toast cocked his head to the side and considered this for a while. He had had that same impression when he had been down there with Darrik but it couldn’t be that somehow new sewers were opening up without their knowledge, could it?
“I swear that’s what they said.”
“But that seems so impossible.” Toast still didn’t quite believe it.
“No, it isn’t. There are so many parts that are blocked or walled off, someone with the means to do it could easily open one of those parts and tunnel from there. It isn’t as though the whole system is used by the gnomes anymore.”
“I guess there is a point to that,” Toast muttered, deep in thought. He couldn’t help but wonder how Pink knew so much about this but he guessed that barmaids really did hear more than most patrons thought, mostly because they rarely paid attention to the staff after a while. He had to force himself to bring his head back around to the subject at hand however. It made sense. Oddly, it did. Not everything was used by the gnomes anymore, and if there were other hidden walls like the one they had discovered the day before, then it should come as no surprise that there might be more like this. “Thanks in any case! Your help is much appreciated!”
Pink replied by giving him a radiant smile before she returned to work and Toast returned to his meal.
He spent the rest of the day talking to various gnomes, having Pink’s story confirmed and partially filled in with more detail but in essence, what she had told him was what the deal seemed to be lately. Something odd was happening in the sewers, and Toast was now more than ever determined to figure out what it was.
More motivation was added to what he already had when a contract arrived from the Guard Headquarters requesting him for a few more days to continue the mission he had started with Darrik. The gnome would have given the dwarf guard all his bits of information either way, but he felt strangely proud that he had been sent a new contract. Maybe some day he would finally rise to fame after all. He just knew it was his calling. It was only a matter of time now!
When the time arrived to get to the rendez-vous point, Toast was already all giddy before he even walked out the door. Of course, he was also far too early, but he wanted to make a brief stop at Spike’s before he went to Fort Omenbryn. However, unlike what Toast had expected, his friend wasn’t at home. Odd. They had agreed to meet early in the day to discuss a few more inventions and things they had been working on which could be useful for Toast’s contract. Ever since the first hint towards success in the observation system, Spike had been working on it and had been keeping a more vigilant eye out for anything unusual.
‘Maybe he just isn’t home yet or is held up somewhere else. Maybe he spent the night elsewhere,’ Toast waved it off and decided to go to Jack Iron’s place right away instead of worrying too much. He’d talk to Spike later.
While him and Darrik were waiting in Iron’s office for the battlemage to arrive, he grew more and more edgy. He felt the incredibly urge to chat with Darrik but didn’t dare with Iron in the office. The sergeant was a bit weird sometimes, but then again, he was usually weird – if only because of those many horrible jokes he insisted upon telling.
As soon as Nashandra Katona entered the office, Toast had to force himself to remain seated and calm. The woman was scarily tall – or maybe that was just his personal impression since he was so small – and her whole presence was... well... imposing.
This was certainly going to be very interesting and no sooner had she arrived was Iron sending them off towards the sewers already as well. Time to start the next mission! Hopefully without bumping into any of those rats. Toast could most definitely do without them and Darrik looked like he could use a few more days of rest as well, though of course he wouldn’t mention that to the dwarf. Not straight away at least.
“Yes, Ma’am, my skills shall be in your service.” Before the words were fully out, he felt silly for saying it but he didn’t know how to handle the battlemage. It was a battlemage after all. Magic was... Well, it was frowned upon in Marn, let’s just leave it at that.
“Listen Pink, have you heard anything about something out of the ordinary that might be going on in the Sewers?” He wasn’t really expecting an answer with actual information but he couldn’t keep the surprised look off of his face when Pink grinned and pulled out a chair opposite him and sat down, a conspiratorial look on her face.
“You know, I’m really not sure how much truth there is in this but every bit of gossip has a true point of origin, buried somewhere deep down, right? So something might be true?” Pink looked at Toast expectantly and the gnome nodded encouragingly even though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant since she had no idea what she was on about.
“Ok, so there have been these rumours. People have been talking about it sometimes here late in the evening in hushed voices as though they were scared of being overheard by the wrong people. Of course the barmaid always hears more than they think.” Toast raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned. “Yes, sorry, I’ll stay on track. So these rumours. I’ve heard them mention more than once that there are weird noises down there, and footsteps that seem to belong to larger animals than rats, but nothing other than rats could be down there, surely? Anyway, there was also mention of strange activities but they weren’t too clear on what exactly it was. But you know what the best part is? Apparently there are passages in the sewers that the gnomes working the area didn’t know existed. And some of the less used routes have been walled up all of a sudden. Strange isn’t it?”
“What?” Toast cocked his head to the side and considered this for a while. He had had that same impression when he had been down there with Darrik but it couldn’t be that somehow new sewers were opening up without their knowledge, could it?
“I swear that’s what they said.”
“But that seems so impossible.” Toast still didn’t quite believe it.
“No, it isn’t. There are so many parts that are blocked or walled off, someone with the means to do it could easily open one of those parts and tunnel from there. It isn’t as though the whole system is used by the gnomes anymore.”
“I guess there is a point to that,” Toast muttered, deep in thought. He couldn’t help but wonder how Pink knew so much about this but he guessed that barmaids really did hear more than most patrons thought, mostly because they rarely paid attention to the staff after a while. He had to force himself to bring his head back around to the subject at hand however. It made sense. Oddly, it did. Not everything was used by the gnomes anymore, and if there were other hidden walls like the one they had discovered the day before, then it should come as no surprise that there might be more like this. “Thanks in any case! Your help is much appreciated!”
Pink replied by giving him a radiant smile before she returned to work and Toast returned to his meal.
He spent the rest of the day talking to various gnomes, having Pink’s story confirmed and partially filled in with more detail but in essence, what she had told him was what the deal seemed to be lately. Something odd was happening in the sewers, and Toast was now more than ever determined to figure out what it was.
More motivation was added to what he already had when a contract arrived from the Guard Headquarters requesting him for a few more days to continue the mission he had started with Darrik. The gnome would have given the dwarf guard all his bits of information either way, but he felt strangely proud that he had been sent a new contract. Maybe some day he would finally rise to fame after all. He just knew it was his calling. It was only a matter of time now!
When the time arrived to get to the rendez-vous point, Toast was already all giddy before he even walked out the door. Of course, he was also far too early, but he wanted to make a brief stop at Spike’s before he went to Fort Omenbryn. However, unlike what Toast had expected, his friend wasn’t at home. Odd. They had agreed to meet early in the day to discuss a few more inventions and things they had been working on which could be useful for Toast’s contract. Ever since the first hint towards success in the observation system, Spike had been working on it and had been keeping a more vigilant eye out for anything unusual.
‘Maybe he just isn’t home yet or is held up somewhere else. Maybe he spent the night elsewhere,’ Toast waved it off and decided to go to Jack Iron’s place right away instead of worrying too much. He’d talk to Spike later.
While him and Darrik were waiting in Iron’s office for the battlemage to arrive, he grew more and more edgy. He felt the incredibly urge to chat with Darrik but didn’t dare with Iron in the office. The sergeant was a bit weird sometimes, but then again, he was usually weird – if only because of those many horrible jokes he insisted upon telling.
As soon as Nashandra Katona entered the office, Toast had to force himself to remain seated and calm. The woman was scarily tall – or maybe that was just his personal impression since he was so small – and her whole presence was... well... imposing.
This was certainly going to be very interesting and no sooner had she arrived was Iron sending them off towards the sewers already as well. Time to start the next mission! Hopefully without bumping into any of those rats. Toast could most definitely do without them and Darrik looked like he could use a few more days of rest as well, though of course he wouldn’t mention that to the dwarf. Not straight away at least.
“Yes, Ma’am, my skills shall be in your service.” Before the words were fully out, he felt silly for saying it but he didn’t know how to handle the battlemage. It was a battlemage after all. Magic was... Well, it was frowned upon in Marn, let’s just leave it at that.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
While Nashandra appreciated the use that could be made of the Guard, she was not especially fond of the guards themselves. She certainly had no desire to include herself in their social rituals. She also couldn't understand why they bothered with introductions when she had no reason to remember the names of these men; it seemed like a waste of time. Nonetheless, she gave a short nod of approval at the state of arrangements so far. The guardsman claimed to have all he required for the task ahead, so further discussion could wait.
Gesturing towards the door, Nashandra stepped aside to allow the two men to lead the way. To the sergeant, she said, "I may return later in the day to discuss matters further. If you could remain available, it would be appreciated." There was no threat in her tone, but she didn't leave room for questions. "Thank you again, sergeant."
Making sure to close the door behind her as she turned and left, the battlemage allowed the guard and the civilian to lead her promptly to the crime scene, speaking very little on the way. As they left the Guardhouse, she first asked them directly, "Has there been any further activity in the area, suspicious or otherwise?" After a brief pause, she added, "I assume the tunnel system is frequented by vagrants."
When they were nearing their destination, Nashandra asked the young gnome, "Do you have a map of these sewers available? I request that you and I thoroughly discuss the routes throughout the area, when there is time."
Gesturing towards the door, Nashandra stepped aside to allow the two men to lead the way. To the sergeant, she said, "I may return later in the day to discuss matters further. If you could remain available, it would be appreciated." There was no threat in her tone, but she didn't leave room for questions. "Thank you again, sergeant."
Making sure to close the door behind her as she turned and left, the battlemage allowed the guard and the civilian to lead her promptly to the crime scene, speaking very little on the way. As they left the Guardhouse, she first asked them directly, "Has there been any further activity in the area, suspicious or otherwise?" After a brief pause, she added, "I assume the tunnel system is frequented by vagrants."
When they were nearing their destination, Nashandra asked the young gnome, "Do you have a map of these sewers available? I request that you and I thoroughly discuss the routes throughout the area, when there is time."
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Darrik was glad to be out of Fort Omenbryn. It was far better to have cobbles underfoot and a task at hand than be sitting around an office waiting on the pleasure of a battlemage. Sure, it was a bloody shame he had to spend his day babysitting a damn battlemage instead of helping with the post-Gala efforts or the Civic Court fiasco, but what could he do? Damn situation involved magic, no escaping it, and he'd had the misfortune of stumbling across it. It didn't help any that the girl seemed a bit wet behind the ears. Activity in the old city? Suspicious or otherwise? Hah! Might as well ask 'is the Ofriyu wet today'. The dwarf almost chuckled. He managed to stifle it into a half cough.
Despite his personal opinion of mages and their blasted ilk, the dwarf guard had his orders from the sergeant, so he'd be civil, even if she was a magic-accursed abomination. "Well, battlemage, you might as well be asking if dirt turns to mud when wet. Of course there's activity in old city. And if you are talking about the sewers specifically, well... between the flotsam sifters trawling through the trash, beggars and other wretches using the stink to hide from back-alley bruisers, and maintenance patrols - aye, the sewers can be classed as havin' activity too. Mind you, this was all in the reports I supplied, which I am sure you read with great attention t'detail. I'd hope you're not bein' the kind to waste the time of your fellow upholders of order in Marn by not reading their reports." And if she hadn't read the report, well, Darrik would not be inclined to make her life any damn easier.
Strictly speaking, Darrik mused, that had been civil. And he had answered the battlemage's question in a forthright fashion. It was a good start. Jack could have only a few complaints about that. Admittedly, the dwarf may not have bothered looking at battlemage Katona when speaking, but then, it was easier to deal with the magic-tainted if he didn't have them fouling his view of the city he loved. Darrik hoped that, with Katona's question regarding maps, Toast would feel encouraged to talk at length about the topic closest to the gnome's heart. Apart from a certain barmaid, that was.
Despite his personal opinion of mages and their blasted ilk, the dwarf guard had his orders from the sergeant, so he'd be civil, even if she was a magic-accursed abomination. "Well, battlemage, you might as well be asking if dirt turns to mud when wet. Of course there's activity in old city. And if you are talking about the sewers specifically, well... between the flotsam sifters trawling through the trash, beggars and other wretches using the stink to hide from back-alley bruisers, and maintenance patrols - aye, the sewers can be classed as havin' activity too. Mind you, this was all in the reports I supplied, which I am sure you read with great attention t'detail. I'd hope you're not bein' the kind to waste the time of your fellow upholders of order in Marn by not reading their reports." And if she hadn't read the report, well, Darrik would not be inclined to make her life any damn easier.
Strictly speaking, Darrik mused, that had been civil. And he had answered the battlemage's question in a forthright fashion. It was a good start. Jack could have only a few complaints about that. Admittedly, the dwarf may not have bothered looking at battlemage Katona when speaking, but then, it was easier to deal with the magic-tainted if he didn't have them fouling his view of the city he loved. Darrik hoped that, with Katona's question regarding maps, Toast would feel encouraged to talk at length about the topic closest to the gnome's heart. Apart from a certain barmaid, that was.
Last edited by Darrik on Tue Aug 12, 2014 11:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Toast found it an odd question and was glad that he wasn’t the one to have to reply to it. Being a civilian contractor did have its uses from time to time as well even if it wasn’t going to further his reputation and career any if he kept to the background.
Everybody knew that the sewers weren’t just used by the gnomes, or at least the gnomes figured that everybody knew. They were sewers after all. The higher-ups didn’t frequent them, so what better place for hiding or spending some down-time when one didn’t have a roof over one’s head? The gnomes didn’t mind all too much as long as their activities remained unhindered. Of course, they also weren’t going to accept murder – as was the case now – without providing the authorities with all the necessary information.
His mood perked up a little the further they moved away from the Headquarters and all the more so when the battlemage suddenly asked him for detailed maps. “Oh yes, of course! I took the liberty of preparing a map of the sewers for you with detail on all the main routes and with a special close-up of the affected area we are going to show you in person now.”
The gnome instantly began to rifle through the many things in his ever-present backpack and spend quite a while before he finally found what he was looking for. All the while, they were getting closer and closer to their destination. Finally, when they were almost at the entrance to the sewers they had been heading towards,Toaste fished out the maps in question and held them out to Nashandra Katona. “Would there be something else you require?”
In the distance, he could already see at least one of Darrik’s colleagues standing guard in front of the entrance, and for a moment, the gnome was afraid that the rats had made another appearance, but most likely this was merely a precaution so nothing along those lines happened. He could breathe. And he did take a deep breath as he realised that this was just normal procedure.
Everybody knew that the sewers weren’t just used by the gnomes, or at least the gnomes figured that everybody knew. They were sewers after all. The higher-ups didn’t frequent them, so what better place for hiding or spending some down-time when one didn’t have a roof over one’s head? The gnomes didn’t mind all too much as long as their activities remained unhindered. Of course, they also weren’t going to accept murder – as was the case now – without providing the authorities with all the necessary information.
His mood perked up a little the further they moved away from the Headquarters and all the more so when the battlemage suddenly asked him for detailed maps. “Oh yes, of course! I took the liberty of preparing a map of the sewers for you with detail on all the main routes and with a special close-up of the affected area we are going to show you in person now.”
The gnome instantly began to rifle through the many things in his ever-present backpack and spend quite a while before he finally found what he was looking for. All the while, they were getting closer and closer to their destination. Finally, when they were almost at the entrance to the sewers they had been heading towards,Toaste fished out the maps in question and held them out to Nashandra Katona. “Would there be something else you require?”
In the distance, he could already see at least one of Darrik’s colleagues standing guard in front of the entrance, and for a moment, the gnome was afraid that the rats had made another appearance, but most likely this was merely a precaution so nothing along those lines happened. He could breathe. And he did take a deep breath as he realised that this was just normal procedure.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Jacme sighed, and it was the deep and long suffering sigh of a veteran who had been partnered with a new member of something. In this case, the guard. The boy would not stop chattering. It was bad enough that they were in ankle deep sewage, bad enough there were a fair amount of bodies and their parts strewn around these very sewers in close proximity, he had to have a partner that wanted to tell him everything that his skull could possibly hold as information. He had tried to subtly get his partner to shut up, but that wasn't working. And if he was mean to the boy, he'd probably run and cry to the Captain, and then Jacme would be in trouble again. So instead, he decided to try and creep the boy out. That was always a good option.
Unknown to the other, he had stuffed cotton wads scented with oil up his nose soon after they had walked into the sewers. It was a very old trick for dealing with dead bodies or decomposed flesh in general, and it was also good for dealing with trolls and their stench. Just one of those little things that you picked up after a few years. He had noticed how the smell was turning his partners face a few shades of green, so he stretched out his arms, scratching his chin.
"You know what? I'm hungry." After rummaging around in his pack, he pulled out a large piece of heavily spiced jerky, then took a mouthful out of it. He made sure he didn't bite it hard enough to chomp through, no, he made a ripping and tearing motion to break away his chunk of food. It sounded very loud in the sewer. Almost echoing. He exaggerated the sounds of eating, smacking his lips as he tore off more meat. He watched Oleg's face continue to turn new shades of green at the noises, and it seemed like he was getting close.
Jacme sighed, looking at the jerky in his hands as he continued the chew nosily. "This is going to have to do, but you know what I'd love to have? Some of that nice meat stew from th' Red Chalice, in Shim. Been there a few times. It's got big chunks of meat, no telling what kind really, and it's in this really thick dark broth, and th' meat just kinda... bobs to the surface-"
At this point, poor young Oleg lost control of his stomach, the smell of vomit now adding to the general stink of the sewers. Jacme sniffed, looking at him. "Got more pressure inside of you than a gnomish pump, don't you? Chin up lad, don't want the battlemage trekking their boots through your vomit." Now that Oleg had shut up, Jacme stuffed the jerky back into his pouch. At least they could quietly wait now.
Unknown to the other, he had stuffed cotton wads scented with oil up his nose soon after they had walked into the sewers. It was a very old trick for dealing with dead bodies or decomposed flesh in general, and it was also good for dealing with trolls and their stench. Just one of those little things that you picked up after a few years. He had noticed how the smell was turning his partners face a few shades of green, so he stretched out his arms, scratching his chin.
"You know what? I'm hungry." After rummaging around in his pack, he pulled out a large piece of heavily spiced jerky, then took a mouthful out of it. He made sure he didn't bite it hard enough to chomp through, no, he made a ripping and tearing motion to break away his chunk of food. It sounded very loud in the sewer. Almost echoing. He exaggerated the sounds of eating, smacking his lips as he tore off more meat. He watched Oleg's face continue to turn new shades of green at the noises, and it seemed like he was getting close.
Jacme sighed, looking at the jerky in his hands as he continued the chew nosily. "This is going to have to do, but you know what I'd love to have? Some of that nice meat stew from th' Red Chalice, in Shim. Been there a few times. It's got big chunks of meat, no telling what kind really, and it's in this really thick dark broth, and th' meat just kinda... bobs to the surface-"
At this point, poor young Oleg lost control of his stomach, the smell of vomit now adding to the general stink of the sewers. Jacme sniffed, looking at him. "Got more pressure inside of you than a gnomish pump, don't you? Chin up lad, don't want the battlemage trekking their boots through your vomit." Now that Oleg had shut up, Jacme stuffed the jerky back into his pouch. At least they could quietly wait now.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Nashandra ignored the dwarf's comments for the time being, though she made a mental note to keep an eye on his behaviour. The double-edged blade of battlemage infamy could frighten a man into obedience, but some also reacted quite aggressively, even going so far as to side against the law in a conflict where a battlemage was involved. It was, unfortunately, a truth she had learned through experience, and she remained wary of hostility from guardsmen. Perhaps the man meant nothing by it, but if Nashandra's job had taught her anything, it was that you could never be too cautious, or prepared.
The scent of the sewers reached them from some distance away, just as the gnome found the maps he'd been searching for. When he passed them to Nashandra, she slowed her pace to study the layout of the underground tunnels, at least well enough to ascertain the quality of the map. It appeared thorough and likely accurate, a tool that might even be useful in future investigations, but she handed the maps back to their drafter as they reached the entrance. "Good, Mr Fountainbloomer. Hold onto those until we're done here."
A guardsman posted by the entrance to the underground saluted them as they approached. Nashandra greeted him with the request, "A lantern, guardsman?"
The scent of the sewers reached them from some distance away, just as the gnome found the maps he'd been searching for. When he passed them to Nashandra, she slowed her pace to study the layout of the underground tunnels, at least well enough to ascertain the quality of the map. It appeared thorough and likely accurate, a tool that might even be useful in future investigations, but she handed the maps back to their drafter as they reached the entrance. "Good, Mr Fountainbloomer. Hold onto those until we're done here."
A guardsman posted by the entrance to the underground saluted them as they approached. Nashandra greeted him with the request, "A lantern, guardsman?"
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Darrik wasn't overly surprised when the battlemage didn't say anything further to him. She seemed the tightly-strung type with a superiority complex. Frankly, the dwarven guard was glad of it. Not having to speak to her made it a lot easier to keep a civil tongue.
The guardsman stationed by the sewer entrance handed over a sealed lantern with a salute and a subtle lack of eye contact with the battlemage. Whether it was because the guard was a devout puradyne, or from a general wariness towards battlemages, was anyone's guess. Darrik had learned himself that it was a favourite game among veterans to convince the gullible that every battlemage possessed every ability under the sun, just to get a rise out of some wet-behind-the-ears recruit.
As for Darrik, he was willing to rely on Toast's flashytubes instead of a lantern, as they'd proven useful in the past. With any luck, the battlemage would fumble her lantern and set herself ablaze. But only after finishing up her job. Darrik believed, after all, that a job well done was the most important consideration.
As they trudged through the ankle-deep morass of sewage water and stinking flotsam, Darrik kept a curious eye on the battlemage's response to her environment. Eventually the three of them reached the spot where Jacme and Oleg were waiting. Darrik saluted his fellow guardsmen "Jacme. Oleg. This is Battlemage Katona, and our sewer expert Toast. Any disturbances during your watch, or was it all quiet down here?"
The guardsman stationed by the sewer entrance handed over a sealed lantern with a salute and a subtle lack of eye contact with the battlemage. Whether it was because the guard was a devout puradyne, or from a general wariness towards battlemages, was anyone's guess. Darrik had learned himself that it was a favourite game among veterans to convince the gullible that every battlemage possessed every ability under the sun, just to get a rise out of some wet-behind-the-ears recruit.
As for Darrik, he was willing to rely on Toast's flashytubes instead of a lantern, as they'd proven useful in the past. With any luck, the battlemage would fumble her lantern and set herself ablaze. But only after finishing up her job. Darrik believed, after all, that a job well done was the most important consideration.
As they trudged through the ankle-deep morass of sewage water and stinking flotsam, Darrik kept a curious eye on the battlemage's response to her environment. Eventually the three of them reached the spot where Jacme and Oleg were waiting. Darrik saluted his fellow guardsmen "Jacme. Oleg. This is Battlemage Katona, and our sewer expert Toast. Any disturbances during your watch, or was it all quiet down here?"
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Jacme nodded in greeting to Darrik. He wanted to crack a joke about the dwarf needing boots, but the battlemage probably wouldn't like to hear it. And he had enough to deal with without making another one of them mad. Instead, he came to something that resembled attention or at least parade rest, and relayed his report to the battlemage and company.
"Nothing much. Few rats that we kept back from the area." He coughed slightly, eyes shifting to his partner, "Had a slight vomiting incident, but it's out here, so it shouldn't be around th' bodies to contaminate anything."
Battlemages. He understood the reasoning and the need for them, but he didn't much care for them. Too high and mighty, being above the law as they were. But, a guardsman did his duty, and his duty meant work with the battlemages at this point. His partner was scared stiff. Probably thought that the battlemage could read his thoughts and make his blood boil inside his body. Or something like that, Jacme couldn't remember what the rumour he had shared to the man had actually said. He offered up some advice as almost an afterthought.
"I'd watch th' lantern. No telling what's down on th' waters or ground in there, and th' flame might get a little out of control if something falls."
"Nothing much. Few rats that we kept back from the area." He coughed slightly, eyes shifting to his partner, "Had a slight vomiting incident, but it's out here, so it shouldn't be around th' bodies to contaminate anything."
Battlemages. He understood the reasoning and the need for them, but he didn't much care for them. Too high and mighty, being above the law as they were. But, a guardsman did his duty, and his duty meant work with the battlemages at this point. His partner was scared stiff. Probably thought that the battlemage could read his thoughts and make his blood boil inside his body. Or something like that, Jacme couldn't remember what the rumour he had shared to the man had actually said. He offered up some advice as almost an afterthought.
"I'd watch th' lantern. No telling what's down on th' waters or ground in there, and th' flame might get a little out of control if something falls."
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Toast took the plans back from the battlemage when she was done with them and stuffed them back into his backpack, making sure they were easily accessible. He was a little surprised at the gesture, having expected that she would keep them – he had made copies after all – but it, surprisingly, made him like her a little that she was so decent. Or maybe it was just practicality. After all, this way she wouldn’t have to carry them herself.
Ah well, the gnome wasn’t particularly interested in worrying himself over this kind of detail. What mattered was that he was on an important mission for the guard, alongside a battlemage no longer. What would the other gnomes say if they saw them in the sewers together?
Maps safely in place, Toast grabbed a couple of the light tubes he had used before and offered one to Darrik. The dwarf had seemed to like them the last time round they had been the sewers and Toast made a mental note to make a few more and give them to Darrik for future use on missions where Toast wasn’t around to provide them for him.
Jacme and Oleg seemed to enjoy their watch tremendously, if Oleg’s colour was anything to go by. The gnome barely refrained from grinning. People who didn’t go into the sewers a lot usually had quite a bit of trouble with the place. The smell could be a little overwhelming at times, or so he was told, since Toast himself couldn’t really smell anything anymore. Which was a shame when it came to certain situations but there was nothing to be done about it.
“They’re sealed, and should also have been treated. Nothing much should happen to the flame,” Toast said though he didn’t elaborate. In the end, he didn’t know what all the guards did with their lanterns but usually they were protected. Either way, it was ridiculous really to think that mage Katona wouldn’t use her powers to keep the flame safe if something should happen despite the fact that the lanterns were well protected. Wasn’t that what magic was for? Wasn’t that why she was here? To keep everyone else safe while she took care of the investigation? Magic or no, if they had it at their disposal, why not use it.
Ah well, the gnome wasn’t particularly interested in worrying himself over this kind of detail. What mattered was that he was on an important mission for the guard, alongside a battlemage no longer. What would the other gnomes say if they saw them in the sewers together?
Maps safely in place, Toast grabbed a couple of the light tubes he had used before and offered one to Darrik. The dwarf had seemed to like them the last time round they had been the sewers and Toast made a mental note to make a few more and give them to Darrik for future use on missions where Toast wasn’t around to provide them for him.
Jacme and Oleg seemed to enjoy their watch tremendously, if Oleg’s colour was anything to go by. The gnome barely refrained from grinning. People who didn’t go into the sewers a lot usually had quite a bit of trouble with the place. The smell could be a little overwhelming at times, or so he was told, since Toast himself couldn’t really smell anything anymore. Which was a shame when it came to certain situations but there was nothing to be done about it.
“They’re sealed, and should also have been treated. Nothing much should happen to the flame,” Toast said though he didn’t elaborate. In the end, he didn’t know what all the guards did with their lanterns but usually they were protected. Either way, it was ridiculous really to think that mage Katona wouldn’t use her powers to keep the flame safe if something should happen despite the fact that the lanterns were well protected. Wasn’t that what magic was for? Wasn’t that why she was here? To keep everyone else safe while she took care of the investigation? Magic or no, if they had it at their disposal, why not use it.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Ignoring Jacme's comment, Nashandra glared quite pointedly at the guardsman who'd lost his stomach while he was supposed to be guarding the crime scene. She kept silent, lips pursed, but it was clear that she did not approve of the lack of composure from a guardsman. Whether or not she liked them in general, the guards of Marn were supposed to be resilient if nothing else.
She didn't look away until she was directed towards the bodies. Their scent was masked to her, as the battlemage had decided to reduce her capacity to smell anything on the off chance that the unpleasant sensations might muddy her other senses. Not that sight was particularly useful in the dim lighting; nor hearing, with the way every sound echoed in strange ways through the tunnels. All the more reason to avoid distractions, perhaps.
The bodies did not especially concern her, of course, when compared to the presence of what might be quite strong illusory magic. She understood magic in theory much more than she did instinctively, or with any magic of her own, and so she could judge that the effect might be affixed to an object. A hexed object could often be used as a device that produced an effect, temporarily, when activated, and these were bought and sold in certain places. It was rare in Marn, but not quite as rare as one would hope.
"The reports I received did not specify that anything had been removed from the area," she said aloud, to the men in general. "To your knowledge, is that correct?"
If not any small object, then the effect could be placed on the area itself. A mage would have to perform the act in person, at the location of the illusion, if that were the case, and it would be no easy thing to do. If the illusory wall had been in place as long as suggested, it was likely that the magic was quite strong, the mage quite powerful, and that such a mage could have found their way into Marn at all was a serious issue.
The magic wall still stood now, in a sense. It had taken Nashandra a moment to separate the illusion from reality, but it was, after all, a vision altered by the mindset of individual seeking it, implanted in the mind rather than the actual space it seemed to occupy. Those who knew it to be there often lost the ability to see it, though some could choose to see either view. There were even some who could never shake the illusion, for some reason or other. All of this was assumed by Nashandra from her previous experiences with other similar things and there was every chance this thing worked differently. After all, magic was one of the most unpredictable elements in the world.
"Do any here still see the illusion?" she asked, as she leaned more closely to inspect the fallen bricks.
Also cowbell.
She didn't look away until she was directed towards the bodies. Their scent was masked to her, as the battlemage had decided to reduce her capacity to smell anything on the off chance that the unpleasant sensations might muddy her other senses. Not that sight was particularly useful in the dim lighting; nor hearing, with the way every sound echoed in strange ways through the tunnels. All the more reason to avoid distractions, perhaps.
The bodies did not especially concern her, of course, when compared to the presence of what might be quite strong illusory magic. She understood magic in theory much more than she did instinctively, or with any magic of her own, and so she could judge that the effect might be affixed to an object. A hexed object could often be used as a device that produced an effect, temporarily, when activated, and these were bought and sold in certain places. It was rare in Marn, but not quite as rare as one would hope.
"The reports I received did not specify that anything had been removed from the area," she said aloud, to the men in general. "To your knowledge, is that correct?"
If not any small object, then the effect could be placed on the area itself. A mage would have to perform the act in person, at the location of the illusion, if that were the case, and it would be no easy thing to do. If the illusory wall had been in place as long as suggested, it was likely that the magic was quite strong, the mage quite powerful, and that such a mage could have found their way into Marn at all was a serious issue.
The magic wall still stood now, in a sense. It had taken Nashandra a moment to separate the illusion from reality, but it was, after all, a vision altered by the mindset of individual seeking it, implanted in the mind rather than the actual space it seemed to occupy. Those who knew it to be there often lost the ability to see it, though some could choose to see either view. There were even some who could never shake the illusion, for some reason or other. All of this was assumed by Nashandra from her previous experiences with other similar things and there was every chance this thing worked differently. After all, magic was one of the most unpredictable elements in the world.
"Do any here still see the illusion?" she asked, as she leaned more closely to inspect the fallen bricks.
Also cowbell.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers 2: Battlemage
Darrik cast a critical eye around the scene. Nothing appeared to be missing but, frankly, it'd be bloody impossible to tell if something had been moved. It was conceivable, as there was a space of many hours between him getting out of there, and the guard detail sent down the following day, and the dwarf guard said as much before adding "All things considered, it was a good effort to get guards down here as early as we did, what with the happenings at the Gala and Civic Court. Not to mention the murder at Justice Hall."
As to whether he could still see the illusion? Darrik looked at the wall. To his eyes, it was just a broken down wall with bodies piled up behind, he had no knowledge that the illusion still remained in place. "What illusion? I thought it vanished when I broke down the makeshift wall." Oleg, still embarrassed by the earlier incident chipped in "Are you daft, Darrik? Still looks like a complete wall to me. Gives me the shivers just being near anything magical. Uh, no disrespect intended, battlemage." There was an old guard saying dispensed as wisdom during training - 'When in doubt, salute' - and Oleg did just that.
Darrik stared intently at the broken wall which, at that moment, symbolised everything he hated about magic. "Well, there y'have it. One 'yes' and one 'no' already." The dwarf looked around "So, here you are at the site of the problem, how does this work now? Do you catch a scent, like some kind of magical bloodhound, and we all dash off mob-handed to apprehend the malefactor?" Darrik had never subscribed to some of his fellow guards' fear of battlemages. The most charitable emotions he could muster for the wretched bastards was pity for their cursed state, and the occasional sense of appreciation when they brought down a dangerous magic user.
Of course, magic aside, there was also the very tangible issue of the bodies piled up behind the illusory wall. Frankly though, Darrik imagined his higher ups would put that lower on the list of priorities than the issue of explosive attacks on Marn's upper class and government property. He could just imagine someone like Jack saying 'Well, if they've been lying there for a while, they can lie a little longer while we get this larger mess sorted out first.'
As to whether he could still see the illusion? Darrik looked at the wall. To his eyes, it was just a broken down wall with bodies piled up behind, he had no knowledge that the illusion still remained in place. "What illusion? I thought it vanished when I broke down the makeshift wall." Oleg, still embarrassed by the earlier incident chipped in "Are you daft, Darrik? Still looks like a complete wall to me. Gives me the shivers just being near anything magical. Uh, no disrespect intended, battlemage." There was an old guard saying dispensed as wisdom during training - 'When in doubt, salute' - and Oleg did just that.
Darrik stared intently at the broken wall which, at that moment, symbolised everything he hated about magic. "Well, there y'have it. One 'yes' and one 'no' already." The dwarf looked around "So, here you are at the site of the problem, how does this work now? Do you catch a scent, like some kind of magical bloodhound, and we all dash off mob-handed to apprehend the malefactor?" Darrik had never subscribed to some of his fellow guards' fear of battlemages. The most charitable emotions he could muster for the wretched bastards was pity for their cursed state, and the occasional sense of appreciation when they brought down a dangerous magic user.
Of course, magic aside, there was also the very tangible issue of the bodies piled up behind the illusory wall. Frankly though, Darrik imagined his higher ups would put that lower on the list of priorities than the issue of explosive attacks on Marn's upper class and government property. He could just imagine someone like Jack saying 'Well, if they've been lying there for a while, they can lie a little longer while we get this larger mess sorted out first.'