Underkeeper

By the time they returned, Bernt had made up his mind. He was going to tell Ed what he’d seen. So, while the others left to catch a good night’s sleep while they could, he stayed for a little while to seek out his boss. The archmage was probably the only one who could do anything with the information anyway.

-----

“Hmm.” Ed grunted, leaning back in his chair. “You’re probably lucky you didn’t catch anyone in the shop. You said you know this guy? What’s his name?”

“Oren.” Bernt supplied. “I didn’t see him go in or out of the building, but he was there.”

“Eh. It’s not enough for us to bring any formal charges. We don’t want to mess with the Thieves’ Guild directly if we can help it, anyway. Guild thieves are slippery, and most mages don’t do well in that kind of fight – the kind that you don’t know you’re in until the knife’s already in you, I mean.” Ed grimaced with a faraway look in his eye. “I’ll mention it to the magistrate, and he’ll pass it along to Ambrose. The branchmaster has contacts with everyone, and he can get the message through to the thieves. Or maybe he’ll slap Oren on the wrist personally. I doubt anything will come of it, really, but it’s good to let them know we saw them. Don’t want them getting too bold.”

Bernt swallowed. Was Oren going to be angry that he reported seeing him? Why did he show himself in the first place?

It didn’t matter. Bernt was an Underkeeper and this was his job. It didn’t sound like the thief would be meaningfully punished regardless. There was no way Oren could expect to make him into an accomplice just because he’d been in his party before. He couldn’t imagine that someone like Syrah would casually let him get away with crimes. For all he knew, showing himself had been some kind of test. If he hadn’t said anything, Oren might be coming to him to make evidence disappear next. Better to nip that kind of thing in the bud as soon as possible.

“So, I was right not to say anything?” he asked.

“No!” Ed snorted, somehow annoyed and amused at the same time. “That was stupid. Dangerous, too. Glim was in charge – he needs all the information you can give him to do his job. You have to trust that the people in charge of you are in that position for a reason." He scowled deeply for a moment, hesitating for a second, then added grudgingly. "Unless they're idiots like Righmond who don't belong there. But that's an exception and not the situation here. In this case, Glim knows a lot more about this job than you do. He would have made the right call. You’re lucky that it worked out despite you withholding important information. Don’t do it again.”

–---------

As Bernt returned to the goblin quarter, he was surprised to find it was much more active than he’d expected. Groups of goblins were hauling supplies up and down the street while others leaned out of their windows to exchange gossip with neighbors and passersby. People seemed tense, but not suspicious like they had on his patrol route in the dwarven quarter earlier.

Now that he thought about it, it was probably just the nature of the neighborhood. Goblins were a tight-knit group in Halfbridge, hundreds of people crowded into the margins of Halfbridge’s society. If Nirlig was any indication, they probably mostly knew each other. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if most of them were from the same clan.

In the distance, he could see a patrol wandering down the street – just two guards per patrol now that the initial shock had passed. The Underkeepers couldn’t sustain a heavy presence out in the streets for long. They just didn’t have enough people.

At least it didn’t look like they’d need them here.

Waving at them tiredly, Bernt began digging through his pockets to look for the keys to his brand new door. Jori was already inside, but she’d gone in through an air vent that ran through the ceiling and opened up near the top of the tunnel.

“Hey there, human!” a voice called, and Bernt looked up and around. Two doors down, an older goblin woman leaned out of her window, waving to get his attention. “What is going on up there? Rumor is that the dwarves are attacking, and my fool boy had to join his father in the guard. Of all the times! I haven’t heard a thing in hours. Are they alright?”

“Uh. Are you Nirlig’s mother?” Bernt asked, noticing the resemblance. He knew that Nirlig lived nearby, but he hadn’t realized just how close, or that he lived with his parents. He supposed it made sense. It was hard enough for him to find a place to live.

“Yes, I am,” she confirmed. “Should be obvious. It’s not as though he takes after his father.”

“Uh…” Bernt answered eloquently. “Right. They’re both fine, as far as I know. It wasn’t as bad out there as we feared it might get. No idea what it’s like on the surface, but I didn’t hear anything about any attack. The duergar just came up to the surface to cut the main roads.”

“Ah. Well. I guess that explains a few things.”

Bernt nodded and waved as he opened his door, which swung open easily and soundlessly on expensive wrought iron hinges. It even had a pleasant woody smell. As he entered, though, he smelled something else – smoke, burnt hair and cooking meat.

“Bernt!” Jori called, grinning widely at him as she waved a stick with something stuck on one end. “I made dinner!”

There was a small fire built inside Bernt’s latest attempt at a stove – it was mostly just a stone box with a misshapen tube that connected to their air vent. He’d almost accidentally sealed off the vent on his first try, but it was sort of functional, now. Jori had loaded a few scraps of wood into the box, lit it, and then put her catch on top of the box to cook. The rats looked burnt on one side, and Jori’s attempt to skin them was pretty halfhearted, but she’d cleaned them and Bernt was fairly sure that they were technically edible..

Jori had never tried to cook before. It was nice – the gesture, not the food. But that was fine, his grocery budget was looking awfully small, at least for a few more days.

“Thanks, Jori,” he said, accepting one of the rat-kabobs. They could work on cooking technique later. And salt. “How did it go on the surface? I couldn't really tell what you were doing, but I saw that you were with the kids.”

“Eh.” Jori shrugged. “It was fine. I took them home. Ed told me that I had to keep the interns away from bad things because they were young. Farrin said the same, too. I think Trip might be older than me, though.” She tilted her head consideringly, but then shook it. “It doesn’t matter. I promised that I would do what the Great Mage says. So, nothing happened.”

That last statement came out just a little too forcefully to be the literal truth, but Bernt was too tired to go digging for more information. As long as nobody got hurt, it wasn’t really his concern right now. Maybe he’d ask Trip about it later.

Picking a bit of singed fur off his food, he began telling Jori about his day. He’d always talked to Jori, but until relatively recently, it had been the way that lots of people talk to their pets. Sure, she could always sort of understand him, but she’d only gained real sapience – and started talking back – a bit over a month ago during their dungeon delve.

Now, she was working on her own most days. At first, Ed had kept her on a relatively tight leash, ensuring that she wouldn’t be seen in public without Bernt or someone else who could be identified as some kind of handler. Once people had grown more used to seeing her, though, that had changed. She’d always spent time on her own, but she hadn’t really had her own life until now.

It was a good change, and one that seemed to suit her well. More importantly, though, Bernt was increasingly getting the sense that this change was something else as well – unprecedented. Josie had been spending more and more time with her and engaging her in conversation. She probably wanted to observe her, and that made sense. Jori defied a lot of stereotypes about what a demon should be, or how they should behave, at least.

Sure, she had only the vaguest sense of morals, and she seemed to specifically enjoy hurting those she considered “bad”. But, she also had direct personal relationships with mortal people like himself, his adventuring party, Ed, and the other underkeepers – not to mention her “interns” who she seemed very attached to. She was carving out a place for herself in normal society, and that was something that Bernt was pretty sure no demon had ever done.

It certainly wasn’t something he’d expected would happen when he’d taken her home after finding her crouching in the sewer. Still, he was glad to be a part of it.

–-------

Bernt grunted in pain as he banged his toe against a stone lump that he recognized as last night’s attempt at making a cooking pot with his stone-shaping spell. It hadn’t gone very well. Cursing to himself, he stumbled toward the door, from which emanated a rapid and insistent knocking sound.

There was no way that it was already morning. He had a spell for that, and it hadn’t gone off yet.

About halfway there, the room suddenly came into clear focus as Jori opened her eyes and lent him her perspective through the bond, sort of pushing the image into his mind alongside her amusement at his blind scramble. That was new. While the information was a little confusing, since it gave him a third-person perspective on his own position, it did serve to remind him that seeing things was good, and running around in the dark was not smart.

With a quick bit of concentration and an effort of will, Bernt conjured a light and opened the door to find Palina, fully armed and armored and raising her hand to pound on the door once more. Two doors over Bernt could see Lin rapping on Nirlig’s door.

Something was happening.

“Bernt, Jori!” she called. “Get out here! The army intercepted six tunneling crews in the last hour and one of those earth mages detected another one trying to burrow into the Undercity Market from below as we went out. We’re going on full alert again.”

Jori poked her head out of the doorway above Bernt – she’d climbed up the wall. “Are we doing patrols? I missed the last one! Bernt got to fight, but I missed the whole thing!”

“No, no.” Palina shook her head, already turning to head further down the street. “Meet up at Headquarters. We’re going to stand in reserve to intercept any incursions – the mages will detect if anyone breaks into the wards and tell us where to go.”

Bernt ducked back inside to grab his staff and pull on his heavy armored robe, then he hurried down the street to where Nirlig was already waiting. He felt a tug on his robe as Jori scrambled up to his shoulder, being careful not to sink her claws into him as she did. She was getting a bit too big to sit there comfortably, but she liked the familiar spot, and he wasn’t going to make her move.

He noted as she settled herself that her gray Underkeeper-style robe had been burnt and torn pretty badly – an unavoidable side effect of putting a fire-proof demon into a flammable robe. He’d have to come up with a solution soon, or maybe he could talk Ed into providing something for her.

Or, maybe... Yes. He knew someone he could try. Just as soon as he got paid.

“So, do you think we’re going to get to fight them today?” Nirlig asked as they started walking quickly toward the Undercity Market. He sounded more excited than concerned. Goblins weren’t known for either their cautiousness or pacifism, and it showed.

“Maybe,” Bernt yawned. “but I have a feeling that we’re not going to be sleeping very much.”