Underkeeper

“We’re recruiting,” Ed said, handing Bernt a stack of fliers. “I had a meeting with Magistrate Gerold this morning and we’re expanding. If what I’m hearing from Iriala about the duergar is true, we need to move quickly.”

“Expanding?” Bernt blinked and looked down at the fliers. “I assume it’s not about improving sewer maintenance…”

Ed gave him what almost looked like an actual smile. “No. We’re being permanently classified as a second city guard force, reporting directly to the count. Narald wants someone down in the tunnels to keep an eye on general Arice, and we’re in the best position for it, since I was running the defense before the army arrived. Officially, we’re being empowered to manage security in the newly designated “Undercity”.”

Bernt stared at his boss. “Uh… What do you mean by Undercity, exactly?” he asked, “And does that make us a branch of the city guard?”

“Heh, no," Ed coughed out a smoky laugh. "Righmond didn’t want anything to do with this. A few citizens, mostly dwarves and a few goblins, requested permission to take possession of some chambers down in the tunnels – we might even expand it a bit. This makes us an entirely separate guard force to manage the new subterranean frontier – everything below street level, essentially.”

Bernt blinked, surprised by the news. “So… does this mean we’re being freed from sewer-duty?”

Ed snorted. “Of course not. It’s tradition. The king himself has occasionally exiled mages to the Underkeepers. He’d probably interfere personally if a lesser noble dared to redefine our order's holy purpose like that. Narald is taking a big risk with this as it is.”

Bernt started to respond, but Ed interrupted him with a wave, pointing at the fliers.

“I want you two to pin these up on lantern poles around the city and see if any of the guard stations will let you put them up on their doors. We need capable fighters down in those tunnels, and ideally some people with a bit of engineering skill. It’s going to take some work to make those tunnels livable and I need people knocking down the door to help us get it done yesterday. I already called in everybody else who I could spare. You're starting in the Lower District, but don't hesitate to post fliers elsewhere as long as nobody else has gotten there first.”

“Yes, sir,” Bernt replied, but then hesitated. “Uh, Ed? Does this mean we have a budget? Are we going to be properly armed for this?”

If he could get some proper fighting equipment through the Underkeepers, he’d be in a much better position, overall. He could afford to look into more expensive places to live, for one. Or, if he really tightened his belt, he might even be able to afford membership to the Mages’ Guild.

Ed nodded. “Some, yes. Not nearly enough, of course, but it never is.”

“Great!” Bernt smiled and nodded.

He headed out the door at a measured pace with Jori on his heels, trying not to look too excited at the news. He didn’t really want to consider it, but there was another opportunity here as well. If he really had to, he might be able to find a place to live down in this new Undercity – once it was made livable, at least.

He shivered at the thought and his stomach twinged unpleasantly. He didn’t want to live underground if he could help it. The memory of being trapped down there, hiding from kobold patrols and desperate to escape, was still fresh in his mind. But it was something. Maybe.

–-------

Unsure of where to start, Bernt headed for the guard station nearest to the Underkeepers’ headquarters with Jori. Ed had started sending her out on tasks alone sometimes over the past few weeks, but she still didn’t go wandering around alone in plain sight, where everyone could see her. There were people out there who might react violently to a lone demon wandering around. Worse, they both knew that whatever rogue warlock had originally summoned Jori was still out there – and he’d already tried to send something to kill her once. It was best to be careful.

They posted two of the fliers at busy-looking street-corners as they went. The guard station was a small building positioned right at the unofficial border between the lower administrative district and the crafter’s district. Bernt found a man sitting in front of the door when they arrived at the guard station and waved to get his attention.

“Hey there!” he called, trying to sound friendly. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

The guard didn’t look familiar, which he supposed wasn’t unusual. He’d made the acquaintance of several city guards during and after the kobold invasion a month ago, but there were hundreds of guards in the city. This one was a grizzled-looking senior guardsman, probably the one in charge of the station here. He leaned back casually on a stool, back to the wall of the building, but his eyes were alert and flicked from Bernt to Jori and back to Bernt again.

“Underkeeper.” The man replied by way of greeting. He leaned his head to the side in a noncommittal gesture and scratched at his short, scruffy gray beard. “That all depends on the favor. What do you want?”

Bernt held up the flier. “I’d like to pin up one of my fliers on your door. We’re hiring.”

The man grunted and leaned forward, peering at the paper to read it. “Well. How about that. Seeking sanitation engineers, military veterans, retired adventurers yadda yadda for permanent positions… maintenance, security and law enforcement in the “Halfbridge Undercity”. What’s all that about?”

“New expansion project from the count.” Bernt explained, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “I guess he didn’t want to burden the guard with it, but they’re going to settle part of the former dungeon. The bits that they can claim are technically within city limits, most likely.”

“Hmm,” the man grunted. “Fair enough. But no. We’re hiring too, over here. We lost a lot of people in the attack. If I let you start recruiting right from my front door… well, that’s just getting in my own way." He leaned back against the wall and adjusted the short sword on his belt to keep it from getting caught on his stool. "Not going to happen.”

Bernt didn’t really know what to say to that – the man had a point. He nodded at him and turned to go to find Jori pinning a flier to a lantern pole less than ten steps away, behind a small cart that someone had parked at the side of the street. The guard couldn't see her very well from his position. Looking away quickly, he started to walk away. Jori would catch up.

“Hey kid,” the guard called after him.

Bernt turned, trying not to look guilty. "Yeah?"

He hadn't done anything wrong. This was a public street, it wasn't illegal to put up a flier. There was no reason to feel nervous right now.

“Far as I know the stations in the Upper District didn’t lose anyone at all. Lots of retired adventurers up there, too. You should check with them.”

Bernt inclined his head, thanked the man and continued on his way, breathing a small sigh of relief.

He was not going to the Upper District, though. That was terrible advice. Why bother trying to recruit wealthy retirees? He would work his way through the Lower District over toward the Gateside Market. He didn’t know where to find unemployed engineers, but there were hundreds of former adventurers in the city, and most of those weren’t rolling in gold coins like those in the Upper District. Many retired out of necessity, or simply because their families got tired of them being gone all the time and in danger.

Of course, being an underkeeper wasn’t danger-free either. The sewers regularly spawned mutant creatures and slimes, and served as an entry-point to the city for more dangerous things that tried to crawl up the drainage system from the river. Still, it might be a good option for a former adventurer. The stigma that followed the Underkeepers wouldn't necessarily transfer to non-mages.

The original underkeepers had been Mage Academy wash-outs, too incompetent for the military or the guild, but good enough to clean up the sorts of things that tended to cause problems for common guards. From there, exiling real mages to the Underkeepers had quickly developed as a way to retroactively mark them as failures – politically or socially if not truly in practice of their craft. But that wouldn't really apply a washed up adventurer – how could it? Any social or political connections who cared about that sort of thing were completely irrelevant to them.

And that was probably exactly what Ed was banking on.

“We are going to the market?” Jori said, interpreting his intentions through their bond. Bernt nodded in confirmation. Former adventurers who weren't already part of the guard would be crafters, merchants or even common laborers. And the best place to apply years of adventuring experience while working in some different field was to do so adjacent to the adventuring industry – at or near the Gateside Market.

“I think we can find more applicants around there than in the upper district, at least.”

“Yes.” Jori agreed. “We should talk to Grixit!”

Bernt missed a step and turned to look at Jori, who kept walking without him. “What?” He hurried to catch up. “Why Grixit? Jori, he’s not going to want to be an underkeeper.”

Jori snorted. “The boss said that dwarves and goblins wanted to move into the underground. If they want to live there, then they will probably work there, too! He can show the flier to other goblins. It makes sense!”

Considering it, Bernt couldn't really find fault with her logic. It was a strange idea – there were no goblins in the regular city guard – but why shouldn't there be? It was worth a try, at least.

“Yea, alright,” he conceded. “But let’s stop by that guard station over by the Adventurers’ Guild first.” They wouldn’t all turn him down, he was sure.

Bernt had his doubts that goblins would actually want to fight for the Beseri government. Their people had a long and very unpleasant history with the Beseri military. On the other hand, the Underkeepers were not the military, and if they knew they were going to be guarding other goblin civilians... Maybe it would work.

–------

Grixit stared down at the flier thoughtfully, then looked up at Bernt with furrowed brows.

“There aren’t any goblins in the city guard, you know. Not that I ever heard. Do you think they’d really hire any of us?”

Bernt threw a glance over at Jori. “Well, maybe. I think so. We’re not the city guard, so why wouldn’t we? And this new Undercity sounds like it’s going to house goblins and dwarves, mostly. Why wouldn’t there be goblin guards?”

Grixit scoffed derisively, but the effect was spoiled a bit by the smile that he’d failed to suppress. “You know exactly why, you big idiot. But it’s worth a try, maybe.”

“Great!” Bernt said, smiling. This might actually work. Since Jori had suggested it about an hour ago, Bernt had warmed up to the idea more and more. Goblins were used to working underground. And while they weren’t dwarves, they also had experience building underground infrastructure. Moreover, they were treated as an underclass in Besermark, so the prospect of a steady government job with reasonable wages would probably be a lot more enticing to them than your average applicant. That, and unlike for everyone else, becoming an underkeeper might actually improve their social and political status.

The goblin finished examining the flier and set it down on his table with a little grunt.

“Hmph. I’ll keep your flier and show it around a bit. But… you can see what the count is doing with this, right?” Grixit said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Bernt replied, nodding. “He’s trying to put us in closer proximity to the army, so he can get a better look at what general Arice is doing in the dungeon. That, and he’ll probably want us to try to get first-hand information about duergar activity near the city. I can’t imagine that he likes having all of his news filtered through the military.”

Grixit snorted. “I don’t care about that! No. I mean this new Undercity.” He pointed a knobby finger straight down. “That dungeon is a new foreign border, and it’s directly on the city’s doorstep. That’s a real danger for the count’s precious citizens – the ones that pay lots of taxes and have influence. Now, he’s ‘letting’ a bunch of non-humans move into that new border region. The poorest and least important ones, naturally – the ones that don’t own homes or can’t find a better place to live. Are you getting it?”

Bernt swallowed. He hadn’t really thought about it like that.

“You mean it’s meant to be a buffer population, to help keep the rest of the city safe.” Bernt said slowly, a queasy feeling growing in his stomach. “They don’t want enemies tunneling straight out of the ground with no warning again. So the count is going to put some people in the way. People who he can afford to lose without losing face at court.”

Grixit nodded. “Yup. And while no noble wants to lose combat-capable people, he’s going to dump the cheapest and most politically expendable organization he can find down there to protect them – you. And that’s why they might actually let goblins join your new little guard organization.”

Bernt groaned inwardly. Why did everything have to be so underhanded and, well… screwed up? Did Ed know about this?

The moment he considered it, he knew the answer. Of course Ed would know. The old man had looked like he just won a hundred gold in a game of cards. He and Iriala had probably cooked this whole thing up to legitimize and expand the Underkeepers.

“Oh, relax!” Grixit grinned at him. “This is a good thing. It sounds like we’re going to get some actual real estate, and that’s nothing to sneeze at, no matter if there are enemies nearby. We know how to look after ourselves.” Then, a little reluctantly, he added. “So do the dwarves, really. They don’t get along with the duergar, either. And they build great underground defenses.”

This was about trade-offs. Some people would get a free or cheap place to live, but if the duergar ever broke through the army’s defenses, they’d be the first to know. The Underkeepers got to develop the order into a more serious organization, but they’d also be beneath the city guard, both literally and metaphorically. Separate, but serving the city’s new literal underclass.