Chapter 16: The Underworld

  “You're suddenly not very chatty,” Karja said as she walked in step with Ark through the sewer.

  “Hm,” Ark replied, stewing in his thoughts about Jasper still being alive. “Just thinking.”

  “Ah…” Karja said, the rancid sewer air somehow now awkward as the pair moved in silence.

  If Jasper is alive… Roland must have coerced him.

  One could hope. Ireliex said, surprising Ark with her certain display of empathy. If he's still alive, devouring his corpse would go a long way to recovering my strength.

  Right. Why did I expect anything more? Ark sighed.

  “I was framed.”

  “Hm?” Ark looked up.

  “You asked why I became a bandit,” Karja said, “I used to be a guilder, recruited n trained, learned to read n right too. All went tits up when I got framed by some noble brat.”

  “Is that the true story of Karja the bandit? Or just a lie?”

  “It's whatever yous want it to be,” The woman replied before climbing onto a cobblestone outcrop that led into a dim hallway. “Maybe I'm a nobleman's estranged daughter, maybe I'm a gjin in disguise, or maybe I'm your long lost sister.”

  “Doubtful, but stranger things have happened,” Ark said, following the woman.

  Careful, I sense magic that is targeting us. Ireliex reported.

  Ark frowned, slowing his pace, his hand ready to cast spark and ignite the sewer. He might not come out unscathed, but he'd have a higher chance of survival than Karja or any would-be assassin.

  Perhaps sensing Ark's tenseness, Karja spoke up.

  “Up aheads a cleaning sigil, so you can put away whatever spell yous about to cast.”

  “It's quite the system you guys got here,” Ark said as he watched the woman stand on a runic sigil that immediately lit up and began magically dissolving the sewer slime and filth off her body.

  “The Rogue’s Gallery has many hands. Many undesirables,” Karja muttered as Ark turned his attention to Ireliex.

  After having the phoenix examine the sigil and get the all clear, Ark finally stepped forward.

  He wince, feeling the tingle of electrified magicils that scoured his clothes and bandages free of the rancid feces.

  “Yous just gonna keep stopping randomly?” Karja asked, already moving on.

  Eventually, a faint echo of music and voices began to touch Ark's ears, along with fresher air and less fecal matter in the tunnel, Ark was nearly upon his objective.

  However, it was now Karja's turn to stop.

  “Listen, I don't know what yous plan to do, or what your game is here. But the Gallery doesn't take anyone in just willy nilly. I can introduce you, but it will be up to yous to gain their trust,” Karja said, a look of worry evident on her face. “For now, you'll just be a contracted I brought in. If you want to be a rogue, well… you'll have to get your hands dirty. Another thing, The Mask has a way of ferreting out lies.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Ark said, pushing past the woman, “And don't worry, I'm more of a hands on person.”

  Karja bit the inner workings of her mouth, despite still being unsure about the noble, there was one thing she was certain about.

  He wasn't just some ordinary noble brat. She could see it in his eyes, in his mannerisms, and speech. He may have been born as a royal, but his actions were more like akin to a bandit or a slave.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “Well let's see where this goes,” Karja muttered.

  The duo continued on until coming to an apparent dead-end where a large green-skinned humanoid with thick muscles wrapped in dark tattters stood.

  Despite the hood and dim light obscuring its face, Ark could tell he was being intently observed by the orkkin that was a rare sight in human territories.

  “Garkagg, he's with me,” Karja said, stepping up to the guard who barred their path.

  “Hm,” The ork grunted, the side of his upper lip rising to reveal a large canine. “News is you botched your mission, got a whole slew of contractors killed.”

  “Aint no sense n sugarcoating it, mission went bad. Now yous gonna open up, or just stand here yapping?”

  “Just saying Karja, Mask ain't happy,” The ork stood to the side, his hand on a nearby sigil on a wall that reacted and opened a nearby wall.

  “When is he ever?” Karja said before beckoning Ark with a nod.

  Within, Ark was amazed by the expansive black market hideout that was more akin to a bazaar than a den for thieves.

  More so, was the diversity of the crowd gathered.

  From elves, gnomes, and even little-foots, there was a hodgepodge of races that weren't usually welcomed by mankind. And seeing how they were all underground conducting business, it seemed a hundred years did nothing to improve their situation.

  “Quite a crowd,” Ark said, moving swiftly with his hands close to his coin bag.

  “Too nosy for you?” Karja quipped.

  “Nothing I can't manage,” Ark said, his eyes scanning the local stalls for anything of use. “Surprise by the size is all. How do you all avoid crackdowns?”

  “It's Lunacrypt, the hub of the Imperial Academy and Magiteck Foundation. Full of upstanding folks that have need of the gallery whether they know it or not. It's in everyone's best interest that it stays operating, less it spills onto the streets.”

  “Makes sense,” Ark nodded, his eyes more focused on the goods being sold.

  While there were herbs and alchemical ingredients he recognized, he had neither the means or skill to produce what he wanted, at least away from prying eyes.

  A few feet, and Ark was climbing a set of marble stairs that led into a rustic tavern, one complete with drunken rabble and bandits winding down.

  Finally, Karja stopped, the woman having led Ark to a booth nestled in the corner of the establishment where a figure wearing a solid black mask over his face sat around a mound of paperwork.

  “Mask,” Karja said, approaching the man whose head made a robotic sound of gears moving before looking up at the bandit and her plus one.

  “Oui, Karja! And here I thought you went off and met your maker,” The man exclaimed, his voice somehow robotic as if speaking through a filter. “Come! Sit, sit! Tell me how you got ten men killed against a cripple knight and several farm hands.”

  The man chuckled, his jovial display anything but.

  “We ran into… a hiccup,” Karja said, taking a seat.

  “Oh? A hiccup? A bad indigestion that results in ten contractors dead right? Yes yes, I've had one of those,” Mask said, waving a gloved hand around dramatically before slamming it on the table and scattering pages. “Not! You're an earner. So I trust you to handle contracts. This, isn't handling it. This! Isn't earning. You don't earn, you aren't an earner. You aren't an earner, you’re no use to me. Now I've got to close the contract on an easy hit all because you failed.”

  “Like I said, ran into a problem. The old man is a lot more spry than I was told. The guards aren't anything to scoff at either, there's a beast lurking around that baroness, one that I wasn't warned about!” Karja snapped, “The next time you send me on a gig, maybe make sure the details are all there before sending me on a suicide run!”

  Mask cocked his head to the side, silence taking the table at Karja's outburst.

  “A beast you say?” Mask said, rubbing his chin. “You mean they have another knight or an actual beast?”

  “A mage knight! Barely got out with my life. Chopped up the goons you gave me like a scythe through wheat,” Karja spat, spinning a tale while omitting all the important details. However, everything she said wasn't a lie.

  While Karja spun her story, Ark couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. More specifically, Ireliex couldn't.

  “Are you certain it was a mage knight?” The Masked man’s skepticism clear as day.

  “I failed didn't I? When's the last time I borked a mission?”

  Silence again, the pair staring at each other.

  “Hmm… you don't have a record for coming up short. Very well. This will definitely change the terms of the contract…” Mask muttered, “I'll raise the rating and let the client know. In the meantime, mind telling me why you've brought this mute burn victim with a staring problem to my table?”

  The focus of the conversation shifted, both sets of eyes on Ark.

  “He's-” Karja began.

  “Looking for work, contacts, and resources,” Ark said, cutting the woman off and extending his hand towards the man. “I'm Ark.”

  “Very direct, I like that Mr. Ark,” Mask said, accepting the handshake. “More people could stand to be more forthcoming with their intentions.”

  However, upon touching the man's gloved hand, an electrifying tingle snaked across Ark’s skin, his body seaming to heat up in response to the Masked Man's touch.

  “Featherling!” Ireliex spat as the intrusive feeling was suddenly dispersed.

  “You…you're not lying,” Mask muttered robotically as Karja's hand slipped down to her axe. “Oh, Mr. Ark… you're quite an exquisite thing.”

  “Shit,” Ark muttered.