Underkeeper

Bernt shuffled into the Underkeepers’ headquarters early the next morning, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes as Jori skipped along behind him. The little demon didn’t need to sleep very much, and her chipper attitude always grated on him in the mornings. It was one of the reasons he didn’t like getting up early in the first place. But over the past month he’d gotten into the habit of showing up shortly after dawn, like most of the others. He needed the later afternoon hours to study, train and look for a new apartment.

When he entered, he found Ed in the main room with Dayle and Fiora going over their tasks for the day. Dayle, who was facing the door, gave him a cheerful, morning-person wave.

“Morning Bernt! You look plumb tuckered out for a fellow who just got here. Look like you could use a cup of coffee there.”

Bernt grunted. The older man was playing up his energetic morning persona again to mess with him. He shook his head wearily and grumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

He would be, he knew. As soon as the sun rose properly, anyway. By now, both Ed and Fiora had turned his way.

“Ah, there you are,” Ed began, “I wanted to ask you – where the hells did you post those fliers yesterday? I’ve already had four goblins come by here looking for work and exactly one dwarf. That’s pretty damned peculiar considering that this is almost entirely a human town.”

Bernt just shrugged, but Jori stepped in front of him, puffing out her chest proudly.

“It was my idea!” she bragged excitedly. “You said that the new Undercity would have dwarves and goblins. We brought one of the fliers to our goblin friend at the market!”

Ed grunted noncommittally. “I see... and what about everywhere else?”

Bernt cleared his throat. “Well, we covered the entire Lower District and a bit more besides. We posted fliers at several guard stations – a few thought we’d get in the way of their own recruitment efforts, but the gate guards especially were friendly enough. Besides that, we put something up at most of the major intersections, and I glued a few to a wall across from the Adventurers’ Guild’s notice board.”

“Hmmm.” Ed hummed pensively. “Guess we’ll see who turns up over the next few days.”

“You know, the little runt might actually be on to something.” Dayle said thoughtfully. “Makes sense that goblins and dwarves would join up if they’re protecting their own communities. Why not take them?”

Fiora snorted before Ed could answer. “Dwarves, sure. But goblins? We have to sell this to the public somehow. There’s a reason the city guard doesn’t have any goblins in it – people don’t trust them.”

Dayle shrugged. “Who cares? They’ll be well out of sight down in the tunnels. Not much of a scandal if it's literally buried. We need people who can fight, and goblins are meaner than a wet sack of demons when it’s time to draw blood.”

Jori cocked her head at the odd analogy, but didn’t comment.

“It’s not going to help our public relations any.” Ed grumbled. “But we might not have much choice at this rate. We’ll see who comes.”

Just as he said it, the door opened again, and a human woman stepped inside. She was young, about Bernt’s own age, and dressed simply in sturdy boots and an impeccably clean and pressed tunic in dark gray.

Bernt recognized her – she was a warlock.

Stepping forward, she gave a quick, precise bow toward Ed.

“Archmage Thurdred, my name is Josie, an associate solicitor reporting as ordered, compliments of the Solicitors’ Office.”

Dayle and Fiora exchanged a puzzled glance and frowned at the young woman in unison. Ed just offered her a polite nod.

“Ah, perfect. I suppose that means Radast has heard the news.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, looking around at the others in the room a little suspiciously. When she saw Bernt, her mouth turned down a little at the corners. Apparently she remembered him. Great. “They are massing down below and several of our associated offices in other cities have noted an uptick in demonic activity.”

“Alright,” Ed nodded and scratched at his chin for a second, glanced at Jori, and then back at Josie. ”Welcome to the Underkeepers. You’ll be providing some legal and bureaucratic support for us, but your day-to-day is going to be as part of our new guard force, so you can keep an eye on the situation down below for us. Can you fight?”

“I can,” she answered with a sharp nod, apparently not feeling the need to elaborate.

“Ed,” Fiora said, eying Josie a little warily. “When were you going to tell us that you’re bringing a solicitor into the Underkeepers?”

“Right now.” Ed said reasonably. “We have a demon running around in plain view. Having a solicitor in the organization is going to help with that. Josie’s mere presence will help us suppress rumors that Jori is operating without legitimate oversight.”

Bernt could feel the imp’s annoyance at that – she didn’t want a minder. But she didn’t let it show on her face as Ed went on.

“Iri and I negotiated for the Solicitors’ support in dealing with the demonic duergar threat as part of our arrangement regarding Jori’s paperwork.”

“Ed.” Fiora said again, this time with a clear note of warning. “That paperwork was done days before we found out about the dwarves.”

“That’s right,” Ed said, smiling. A smile just looked wrong on him. Fortunately, it dissolved back into a more neutral scowl a moment later as he turned back to the warlock. “We have a few days to wait until the army turns over the space that we have marked out for the new Undercity, so I’m sending you out with Bernt today on maintenance rounds.”

“Uh… wait a minute.” Bernt interrupted, feeling more than a little alarmed at the direction this was taking. “Is this really a good idea? Weren’t you just talking about public relations?”

Josie gave him a withering stare and opened her mouth to answer, but Ed was quicker.

“You’re damned right I was. You have no idea what kinds of complaints I've been getting from jumpy citizens who see you running around with Jori out there. The two of you are going to get well acquainted – being seen with a solicitor can only help with that situation. I would suggest a bit more politeness on your part, Bernt. We have a lot of work to do on that score. We didn’t get the Solicitors’ support for nothing, either.”

“Ah,” Bernt flushed and swallowed. He looked over to meet Josie’s cool gaze. “Uh. I apologize, that was rude.”

“Good.” Ed said. “Now. Jori, you’re with Fiora today. I’ll put the interns to work here for the day. Get out of here.”

Jori nodded and skipped over to Fiora, who was already moving toward the door. Bernt thought she wouldn’t like Ed taking her minion for the day, but she seemed satisfied. He supposed that she liked working with the other mage. The little imp had been quick to endear herself to the other underkeepers by taking over a lot of the more onerous, sewer-centric activities when she was assigned with them. Uriah had transferred to the Loamfurth Underkeepers two weeks earlier, leaving nobody here who really objected to her presence anymore. Several, like Fiora, seemed even to have grown attached to her. It was a best-case scenario, as far as Bernt was concerned.

“Alright. Bernt, you and Josie here are going on rounds in the Lower District, and there’s a tannery out in the Dyers District that needs a clog sorted out.” He held out a roll of paper. “The report’s in there.”

Bernt accepted the list with a slight grimace. Then, offering Josie his best attempt at a diplomatic smile, he said. “Alright then, let’s get started.”

–-----

The Dyer’s district was an area outside the walls that housed industries like tanning and dyeing – businesses that were too pungent to be allowed inside the walls. Of course, people still lived there. The dyers and tanners themselves were largely immune to the stench and it was one of the few areas where goblins or orcs could find a roof to sleep under. Its sewer system was blocked off from the main system by a system of sturdy, steel grates where the tunnels passed underneath the walls, expensively enchanted to resist corrosion.

“So, uh… what can you do?” Bernt asked, trying to break the awkward silence as the two of them made their way toward the southern gate.

Josie arched a well-groomed, black eyebrow at him.

“...as a warlock, I mean.” Bernt added.

“Ah,” she replied. “Well. I’m a solicitor. We mostly specialize in managing information. I have a contract from the fourth hell that primarily gives me access to a soul-tracking ability, as well as some minor combat support.”

Bernt swallowed. “Uh… okay, great.” He wasn’t sure how useful tracking souls would be to anyone, but he supposed he didn’t really know very much about warlocks – not beyond the horror stories, anyway. “How come you don’t have a demon with you?”

Josie sniffed and shook her head slightly. “Service-contracts are rare. They’re expensive and they normally have a limited term, so you have to renew them. It’s a terrible way to build long-term power. My contract gives me permanent access to a few abilities. It’s a lot safer. A demon that’s not on this plane anymore can’t do very much to subvert your contract after it’s made. It’s not as powerful as having a pacted ally, but it’s bought and paid for. ”

“With souls…” Bernt said, not fully able to hide his discomfort.

“Yes,” Josie confirmed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “With souls."

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Bernt said a little defensively. “I mean… do you know what happens to them?” He’d seen Jori feeding on whatever those soul remnants were that the kobolds left behind when they died.

The warlock watched him warily for a moment. “How long were you planning to live with an unbound demon before you did any research on them? This is basics – something you could learn from a bestiary. They digest souls, take an aspect of power from them and then pass the soul on through the hells. They all work that way, in some fashion.”

Bernt frowned. He didn't have a bestiary. Bestiaries were very expensive, especially ones with reliable information. So, they didn’t destroy souls, at least according to the warlocks. He supposed they would be in the best position to know. Bernt didn’t know very much about demons or soul magic, but he did know that most of the temples tended to take a worst-case view of anything infernal. Street preachers often railed against demonic influences and the hells’ desire to destroy the immortal souls of the faithful.

“So.” Josie asked after a moment, her tone carefully neutral. “Why do you keep a demon around if you’re so paranoid about warlocks?”

Bernt scoffed. “She was practically a baby – I wasn’t just going to kill her. I’m not a monster. Besides, I can feel her mind through the familiar bond. She’s not evil, and she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. From the public or from the Solicitors. Doesn’t mean I want to go around making deals for infernal power. It’s unprofessional for a mage.”

Josie stared at him, taken aback. “You… what?” She looked away, shook her head, took a few steps and threw up her hands.

“What?” Bernt asked, annoyed now.

“You’re. An. Idiot.” She declared, emphasizing each word. Then she just kept walking.

Bernt wrestled down his growing irritation and followed. Of course a warlock wouldn’t understand something like compassion, or a mage’s professional pride. It was ridiculous to expect anything else.

Passing through the gate, the two made their way into the Dyers’ District. The tannery in question was located on the east side, near the river. It wasn’t hard to find – they just had to follow their noses to where the smell was strongest. Bernt knocked on the door, but it looked like no one was there. In fact, the whole street seemed abandoned. They would have to approach the clog from below.

Bernt looked around for the nearest access shaft and found it over a hundred strides away, at a small intersection. Lifting the metal cover, he eyed Josie in her impeccably clean clothes, with her long, glossy dark hair spilling down over her shoulders and tried to keep the doubt off of his face.

He had a feeling that she was not going to like this. But Ed had said to show her the ropes.

“Ehm. We’re going down there. This is going to get pretty messy.”

“Yes, I know,” Josie said, glaring at him. “What’s your point?”

“You might want to tie your hair up.” He said carefully. “Sometimes, you can’t even get the smell out with magic at the end of the day.”

Her expression lightened. “Right.” She pulled a large handkerchief from her pocket and tied her hair up with practiced efficiency.

Now that Bernt was paying attention, he realized that she didn’t seem particularly bothered by the stench – even here. She had a strong stomach. He didn’t want to think about what that said about the kinds of things that warlocks got up to.

A minute later, both of them sloshed through knee-deep muck that had backed up behind whatever was obstructing the drainage system downstream from them. Bernt didn’t dare use fire magic here – the air was so foul that it might ignite at the first spark. So he began casting a traditional mage light to send out in front of them.

He almost had the spell finished when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Stop,” Josie hissed. “There’s something down there!”

But it was too late. As the words left her mouth, the spell activated. A steady blue light pierced the gloomy darkness around them and shone off of the eyes of something in front of them – something as big as a bear, and equally brown and furry and angry, with huge, pointy saber teeth that absolutely did not belong on a beaver.