Underkeeper

Bernt left the Mages’ Guild with a spring in his step, taking a left toward the Gateside Market. He still had something to take care of before he headed home.

Things were finally moving along – with his new guild membership, he could finally get his next investiture, and with access to Magister Pollock and the library, he should be able to do something about his arm. Moreover, the ancient magister was a master pyromancer and a wizard. There was no telling what he might be able to learn from someone like that.

As he stepped out into the sullen flow of traffic, though, reality came crashing back in. A small group of guards passed by at a run, already visibly sweating as they headed past him toward the western walls. He recognized one of them, a gate guard who had looked the other way for him once when he’d needed somewhere safe to practice. Something was happening.

Bernt hadn’t carried his staff all the way up here, but he always carried his wand with him. He could help. Making a decision, he drew it and hurried after them.

By the time he caught up, they were already nearly at the wall, and he could hear shouts followed by cracks and thumps of impact from the other side.

“Clear!” Came a familiar voice from above. It was Therion.

“Incredible! I didn’t even have to draw my bow.” Another, older voice answered. “They grow up so fast! Your mom always says it, but I think I know what she means now. Come on, we have to go out and collect their hands for the bounty! My boy’s going to be rank 5 in no time!”

Bernt heard a long-suffering sigh which turned into a mortified groan as Therion came around the bend of the stairs to find an entire group of guards plus Bernt standing in the way. A second later, Garius came down behind him.

“Ah, good evening, friends! It's fine, you can head back. It was just a small party trying to get creative with the walls. My son here already took care of it.” Then his eyes found Bernt. “Oh, Therion, it’s your friend from the academy! Hi, Bernt!”

Bernt nodded to him, trying to shake off the surprise of running into the man like this. Therion’s father was one of the highest ranked adventurers in the city. “I, uh… I saw the guards running and just wanted to see if anyone needed a hand.”

Therion turned to Garius. “Dad, do you mind grabbing the hands for me? I think I’d like to catch up with Bernt for a minute.”

“Of course.” Garius said, clapping Therion on the shoulder. He gave Bernt a little wave and walked off. The guards left a moment later, leaving just one behind to go up onto the wall and make sure that everything really was clear. Therion watched his dad leave with an exasperated expression.

“So, I’ve got another errand to run,” Bernt said, “want to come along?”

Therion shrugged, seeming to remember where he was. “Sure, why not? I wanted to get your take on what’s going on down in the new Undercity. There are rumors about sappers, demon infiltrators, the goblins forming an army, the Solicitors summoning a demon army against the dwarves, and, of course, everyone forming an alliance with the enemy to wipe out all the humans. Nobody knows anything concrete, though. The count doesn’t allow adventurer parties to collect bounties on duergar down there because we’re not supposed to operate in “residential districts” or interfere with the military, which is mostly running around down in the former dungeon. And Underkeepers barely come up here anymore. I’ve seen Jori more often than you since all this started. Do you know she comes up here just to chat with Elyn sometimes?”

Bernt blinked. He had not known that. But that was fine – why not? He chuckled. “It’s nothing that exciting, for the most part. The goblins seem really well organized, especially now that they have their own space to work with. And a lot have joined up with the Underkeepers – not as exciting as forming an army, but it guess it's not that different. We’ve been running interference against whatever groups of diggers make it past the general’s lines. They bring demons sometimes, but we haven’t really found any infiltrators so far – though I guess that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I actually just sold a spell to the guild for a kind of fireball that burns demons.”

Therion blinked and missed a step. “What? Where did you find that?”

"It was one of those scrolls that I found in the dungeon. Or, that gave me the idea, anyway." Bernt outlined what had happened to him since they’d last spoken, just before he’d fought against the warlock in the plaza. Therion had heard the first bit of the story from Syrah already, but most of it was news to the other mage.

“So, you basically saved the entire Paladins’ Hall," he said. "Or Jori did, I guess, but that's even better. And now you’ve developed a crucial weapon against the demons.” Therion shook his head. “I hope the guild is paying you a king’s ransom for that.”

Bernt sighed and shrugged. “Eh, sort of. They didn't pay in gold. I get guild membership, instead, and use of the perpetual flame for my next investiture as well as access to the Wizard’s Society. Magister Pollock volunteered to mentor me and help me fix whatever’s wrong with my arm while we’re at it.”

Therion squinted at him doubtfully, but then his expression grew thoughtful. “Hmmm. Maybe. I mean, the Wizard’s Society is supposed to have a lot of secrets – theoretical knowledge that isn’t considered reliable enough for the library. Who knows what it’s worth? If you’re crazy enough to use it, I mean.”

Bernt shrugged. “I need to fix my arm. If they know anything about that, it’ll be worth it.”

Privately, he also hoped to maybe pick up a few more rare fire spells, or maybe he could learn more about spell development in general. If he managed to learn enough, maybe he really could begin to design his own investitures. As a wizard himself, Magister Pollock would surely support that kind of endeavor, right?

“Uh… another thing.” Bernt said, changing the subject. “I saw Oren skulking around a reagent shop that had just been burgled down in the Undercity during the first day of the siege. I think he was involved.” He sighed in frustration. “When he saw me, he winked at me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. Who goes around stealing from people at a time like that? And letting me see him. It’s like he’s trying to make me an accomplice. It’s my job to stop him, and he does that.”

“You should have arrested the idiot.” Therion snorted and shook his head. “I’m serious – he thinks it’s funny to push people’s buttons. It’s not like anything would really happen to him if you did, but it might keep him from doing it again. He’s a rank 4 adventurer. He’d pay a fine or something.”

“I guess.” Bernt said. “I reported him to Ed. Apparently he’s going to mention it to Branchmaster Ambrose. Maybe the message will get through. If he shows up the next time we get around to practicing, I’m going to set his boots on fire, though.”

Therion huffed out a laugh. “I’d like to see that.”

They emerged into the Gateside Market a moment later, and Bernt made right for Grixit’s stand on the far side.

Therion, in the meantime, told Bernt about the situation on the surface. The Duergar hadn’t launched any proper assaults above ground, but they did send smaller teams in a near-constant stream.

“It’s like they’re trying to test our defenses. Every group tries something slightly different. We’ve had climbers, diggers, some kind of flying contraption, a lot of different attempts at burning or blasting through the wall, and even a mage that tried to cast a teleport spell for his group. We didn’t have to fight them – only half of them arrived on the other side.”

“So, what, they gave up?” Bernt asked.

“No, I mean only their lower halves appeared on our side. There’s a reason they don’t teach teleportation at the academy – it’s way too dangerous, even at short range. Their mage probably didn’t funnel quite the right amount of mana into the spell and warped the field boundary.”

Bernt grimaced. Definitely not worth it. Was it supposed to be a hit-and-run? Why attack with such small groups? It didn’t really make sense.

“What I don’t get is why they don’t just try to burn down the city.” Therion continued. “Our wards are good and we can stop almost everything, sure, but if they had mages working on our wards and a few demons or warlocks throwing hellfire into the city for days on end, something would get through and catch sooner or later.”

Bernt grimaced at the thought, but then shook his head. “I don’t think they want to kill us,” he said. “Not yet, anyway. Ed said they’re trying to scare us first. They want proper terror in the city.”

Therion snorted. “Well, they’re idiots, then. Teres probably already has a relief force on the way to break the siege. Actually, I’m not sure why Arice hasn’t already gone on the offensive to do it himself. Nothing we’ve seen so far suggests that they actually could take us on in a straight fight.”

Bernt nodded uncertainly. “Maybe, sure. But I don’t think they would lay siege to the city like this if they didn’t think it could work. Better to assume that we just haven’t seen what they’ve got.”

Besides, nothing so far suggested that the duergar were planning to engage in anything like a fair, head-to-head fight. Like Therion had said himself, they could probably burn half the city down at a comfortable distance if they tried hard enough.

Bernt waved to Grixit, who had already seen him and turned to dig around in a sack behind his empty table.

“Bernt!” Grixit said, tone relaxed and friendly as ever. “You got my message? Take a look at this, it turned out perfectly!”

He placed a broad, braided leather belt on the table. The leather was a little darker now than it had been in its original form – a filthy mountain lion's hide wrapped around a dead beaver in the sewers. “It was easier than I thought it would be, actually. I mostly work with natural spirits, you know, not animals. They’re a lot smaller in a metaphysical sense, not as smart and less powerful, but they inherently understand a lot of concepts that a natural spirit can’t really grasp."

Therion looked from the belt to Grixit and back, confusion clearly evident on his face. Bernt ignored his friend and looked from the table back toward Grixit’s sack. “Uh… what about the other thing?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grixit said with a small wave. “Jori already came by to pick it up early this morning. She paid me, too. I didn’t realize your organization was paying her a wage. Very progressive of them!”

Bernt chuckled. “That was actually mostly Josie’s work – our solicitor. She helped her negotiate with Ed for a salary after the incident with the duergar warlocks. From what I heard, Ed didn’t really argue, but the two of them still made a whole legal case for it.”

Grixit laughed. “Makes sense, nobody in their right mind argues law with warlocks or demons.”

Bernt nodded, picking up the belt. “So, how does it work?”

“You can draw on it to make you stronger and to see better in the dark.” Grixit said proudly. “It doesn’t even come with any serious side effects! The lion’s spirit craves the sensations of being alive – taste, smell, and sight. You might develop a craving for raw meat or something if you use it too much, but if we understood each other right, it’ll keep working practically forever.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’d keep this quiet if I were you, though. I don’t think we’ve really scratched the surface of what the Berserkers’ Guild does with their own gear, but… well, I think we’re dipping our toes into their water with this. I wouldn't brag about it too loudly if I were you.”

Next to him, Therion made a strangled noise and took a step away from them, looking left and right over his shoulders. “The Berserkers!? Are you insane?”

“A bit, maybe.” Bernt smiled, strapping the belt on over his robe. “But not with this. It’s not my fault if they lose their crafting materials in the sewers. And it’s not Grixit’s fault if they appropriated and refined traditional goblin shamanism for their guild. That doesn’t give them the right to stop the goblin from minding his own business and doing what he’s always done, right?”