Downtown Druid

Tel’s room was much as Dantes had expected it to be. A small stack of books in one corner, crudely carved incantations along the surface of the walls, a cushion on the floor, and a pile of them in the corner atop which Tel laid, snoring softly. Dantes knocked on the wall with his knuckles in an attempt to wake him, but he didn’t stir. "Well, I tried", he thought before giving into his natural instincts and beginning a search of the room. Among the books, he found nothing uncommon, which was likely how Tel had afforded them, though he did find some tasteful charcoal etchings of horned women in scintillating poses that piqued his interest hidden between the pages of a few. He left those alone and searched around the rest of the room. Beneath the pillow he found a single cigarette, and in a corner he found a small barrel that had just enough food to last him another week. Tel hadn’t been kidding when he’d spoken of how broke he was. Still, the Collared looked out for each other, it wasn’t as dire as it would’ve been if Dantes’ own supplies had dwindled to that point. Once he’d found everything of value, he left it where it was. He was just staying sharp, besides he wouldn’t steal anything when Tel had so little. It would almost certainly be noticed.

With nothing left to do, Dantes lightly kicked Tel on his bed.

“Once I rest a few moments I’ll be able to go again. Let me just catch my breath,” he muttered tiredly.

Dantes kicked him more firmly.

This time he didn’t even react.

Dantes moved over to the stack of books, lifted the heaviest of them, some thick tome written in scratchy text, and slammed it next to Tel’s head.

“Professor, I swear I was awake!” he blinked a few times, and looked at Dantes. “Oh that’s right… I’m in prison.” He sighed. “I was having the most wonderful dream.”

“Spare me the details.”

He rubbed his eyes. “I have to thank you for introducing me to Syn. That was the best night I’ve had in a looong time. She did this thing with her-”

“Spare me those details as well.” Dantes hadn’t enjoyed hearing about people’s sexual escapades outside of the Pit, and he definitely didn’t want to hear anything about the depravities that were happening inside of it.

“Wait, why are you here? I couldn’t find you after I left the brothel. Didn’t search long though to be honest. The whole Undermarket seemed to be having a fit.”

“Did you hear any specifics?”

“No. Just lots of pissed off elves, or people trying to avoid pissed off elves. The elves wouldn’t talk to me since I’m ‘half souled’ and everyone else wouldn’t talk to me because they thought I was with the other elves.”

“Hmm, well I’m sure it’s not important.” Dantes said smoothly. He wanted Tel focused, if he got him excited about his situation it might make it harder for him to get what he wanted, or make him hesitant to be seen with him. “I need to call on that favor you owe me.”

Tel stood and stretched, his joints popping loudly as his long frame reached up and touched the ceiling of his cell. “Any chance it can wait? I’ll need to figure out whatever busy work I need to do for Merle to earn some extra food this month. Unless you’ve got a lead?”

Dantes shook his head. “No leads for you. I introduced you to Syn, that was the cost and I already paid it.”

“And if I refuse I suppose it’s a beating?”

Dantes shrugged. “Reputation is important. Though, since it would be the second time… I’d probably need to stab you.”

Tel grimaced. “I really don’t want to be stabbed.”

Dantes nodded. “Few people do, though a lot of people act like it’s exactly what they’re looking for.” he bent down and grabbed a blue cloak from the floor, tossing it to Tel who managed to catch it by the hood. “Let’s go.”

Tel began sliding on the cloak. “Alright, alright. What is it you need from me?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Just need you to take a look at something, tell me what you think of it.”

Tel’s eyes lit up. “Is it something ma-.”

“No.” Dantes quickly lied, adding a bit of exasperation to his tone in order to sell it. Mentioning magic items among the Collared was a surefire way to get himself unwanted attention. Not to mention if the Elves began searching for their missing shard of mirror, it wouldn’t take long for people to put two and two together with him as the result. “Just some writing on a side passage I need translated. Old prisoner writing, not old enough to be original to the wall.”

Many portions of the Pit were coated in the script of its original inhabitants, and those areas that were blank were often filled with the script of prisoners who wanted to mark an important passage, a place something was hidden, or a place to avoid. Often they led on worthless treasure hunts with no reward, equally as often they led into some unreachable hole where a man would be lost to time, but sometimes you could find a cache of old liquor, or weapons, or any number of other things. There were stories of such notes leading to enormous changes in the power structure of the pit, or even an escape from it. All of that made it a solid enough lie.

“You know, I could teach you to read a few other languages, it’s not too hard, and it's not like we don’t have the time.”

“I already speak universal languages.”

“Oh?” asked Tel as they left his cell and began descending toward the tunnel Dantes had arrived from.

“Love, money, and violence.”

Tel chuckled. “You know, you’d have gotten along well with the daemons I summoned during my studies.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” He sensed some kind of change in air and turned his focus to the far tunnels. Movement he could feel, but not hear or see. In and around the walls, heading toward them. It took him a moment to realize that it was rats. He could practically feel their small paws dancing across his feet as they ran, their whiskers brushing against his leg. No one else seemed to notice it, so he stayed calm and continued walking out. Whatever was happening, he couldn’t see much value in being there when it went down.

The sleeping guard was now awake at the back entrance, and furiously scouring the ground, his grimoire held loosely in his hand.

“You lose something Sal?” asked Tel.

“Uh, yeah… just a bit of weed,” he lied.

“Need help finding it?”

Dantes shook his head at Tel’s naivete, “He’s going to say no because he thinks we’ll steal it if we find it, and he’s right. Let’s get going.”

Sal gave Tel a small apologetic nod in agreement to what Dantes had said, and then they left him behind as Dantes began to sense the rats scatter into the myriad small invisible tunnels around the Collared.

They walked into the dark passages, Tel ducking where Dantes could walk straight, as he guided him through the side passageways and cracks that he routinely navigated. Areas where the once perfect stone hallways had been destroyed by whatever cataclysm had killed the culture that had carved them.

Dantes considered bringing up his newfound abilities to Tel. They were clearly magical in some way, even if he himself was still not a mage. As he considered it though, he decided he’d rather keep it to himself. It had more value as a secret, and he didn’t trust anyone to keep a secret like that to themselves.

“How is it that you know where you’re going? Do you have some kind of marker you use?” asked Tel as they walked through a passage, picking cobwebs off his robe with a look of clear discomfort on his face.

“No, any marker I could see, someone else could use to follow me.”

“So it’s just memory then?”

Dantes nodded. “Partially memory, yeah. There are a few tricks to navigating that can be learned with practice.”

Tel waited for Dantes to elaborate, but he didn’t. He’d earned those skills, and was hesitant to share them when they provided him one of the few edges he had in the Pit. His skill at navigating the tunnels had come from a conversation he’d had with a dwarf when he’d first arrived. He’d been playing dice with him, when the dwarf had begun talking about how his people would dig out their cave cities. That reminded Dantes of a simple fact. The Pit wasn’t random. It had been built and carved for a purpose, one that had existed long before it had been a prison. Once he understood that, the layout he had in his mind began to click. Even the collapses and cracks could be made sense of with a bit of context.

They reached the small dead-end cave that Dantes had stored the mirror in.

“Perhaps your vision is better than mine, but I see no writing here.” Tel’s eyes narrowed and he began backing toward the exit. “Oh gods, you’re going to try to take me as a woman aren’t you? That’s what this is about?”

Dantes brought his hand to his face and slowly slid it down, sighing the whole time. “You know I’m friends with the changelings. If I wanted to spend time with a man in that way, I would ask one of them.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You probably should be more cautious about following other men into darkened tunnels. Your… virtue aside, you could easily be stabbed, robbed, and left for dead.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about these last few days.”

Dantes shook his head and approached the stone on the wall. He removed it, and pulled out the mirror, holding it out to Televor.

Tel’s eyes widened, and he brought it to his nose inhaling deeply. “Roast meat. Gods I missed that smell.”

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