Dhaunre shrugged into the waders. They felt oily to her touch, but if they kept the foulness out of her armor, it would be a good thing. Getting a new suit of armor would be expensive.
"So which one of you is going to be in charge?" Jergenson asked.
The group of them looked at each other, with that ever-building void of confidence. Alek spoke up, "What exactly qualifies one of us to be in charge of the others?"
Thorkin grumbled, "Well, if the person in charge is the one who can beat the rest of the group in a fight, I guess that'd be me." His waders were much to long for him and bunched around his ankles, threatening to make him trip over himself. What with all the spikes, Dhaunre thought, that could either be very dangerous, or very funny.
"Which of ye can read a map the best?" Jergenson asked, trying not to look exasperated.
Dhaunre shrugged at the others, "Not me."
No one else spoke up to volunteer for the job. Jergenson, having had enough of the uncertain stares between the group thrust the papers into Sharain's hands, "You read the map. Stick to the main passages, don't go down side tunnels. If it moves, kill it and push it into the flow. Keep what you take, and if you find anything particularly strange, let me know when you resurface."
The five of them watched him lumber away, leaving them in that uncomfortable silence. Dhaunre took the opportunity to strap the talon in place on her left wrist and untie the sheath for the blade of the wing. She pulled the leather thong out of the lacings and tried to braid her hair out of the way.
"We should get started," Alex said, "Can you understand the map?"
Sharain was still looking at the map with an expression somewhere between horror and repulsion when Alek's voice snapped him back to the moment. He fumbled open the map and squinted at the winding tunnels drawn on the parchment, which had the same oily look as the waders they were all wearing. He nodded slowly, "Yeah, it's not as complicated as it looks."
Alek nodded, "All right then. Lead the way."
Dhaunre knew the braid was messy and crooked, but she didn't care, she curled the end up under itself to keep it from dragging in whatever disgusting muck they were about to descend into. She saw a wiry little fellow with a huge great sword strapped across his back and dragging the ground. The plain blue tunic of one of the other members of his team marked him as a priest of Tymora, the human goddess of luck. Yep, she thought, they'll need all the luck they can get. The boy with the sword obviously hadn't had much training beyond learning that the pointy end goes into the monster.
Sharain pointed to a cover in the street, "This looks like where we start." He looked at everyone else expectantly, clearly having no intention of lifting the cover himself.
Thorkin shouldered his way up to the cover and hefted it open, "Ye bloody panty-waisted cowards. Let's get goin'. We don't have all day to be standin' around loafing in the middle of the streets."
Wesley looked around again before climbing down the hole, then Alek, then Dhaunre, then Sharain. Finally Thorkin dropped the cover closed, sealing them into the foul smelling catacombs. Dhaunre gagged instinctively, but the action only absorbed more of the foulness.
"Phew!" Wesley huffed, his face screwed up like one of the rotten tomatoes that floated past them. He began the workings of a spell, trying to freshen the air, but choked on the words.
"Feh!" Thorkin huffed, "If ye can't take it, climb back up and I'll be happy to take yer pay." Despite his bravado, the foulness affected him as clearly as it did everyone else.
"It smells like a dead Orc's arse in here," Dhaunre remarked.
"Something you have personal experience of?" Sharain asked.
"Oh shut up," Dhaunre grumbled.
"Oh, strong and quickwitted, I see," Sharain quipped. Agitating the other elf gave him something to do besides suffer the creeping stench that he was now sure he would never be free from, as Wesley vomited in middle of his fourth or fifth attempt to cast.
Dhaunre rolled her eyes, "Can you cast that spell or not?" She coughed and swallowed bile.
Wesley wiped his mouth and looked at her, "I can if you'll give me a chance."
She held up both hands, "Sorry, didn't mean to snipe at you."
Sharain looked at her as if he expected a similar apology, "You I meant to snipe at," she said.
"What did I do?" Sharain said, feigning innocence.
Wesley choked out the last bit of the spell and the air around them shifted, the stench retreating back into the brackish brown depths from which it had come.
Alek look relieved, if a light shade of green, "Thank you. Where are we supposed to be going?"
Wesley cast another spell that suffused the area with light, making it easier for everyone to see. Sharain opened the map again, "I think we go this way," he said pointing down the broad tunnel. The light gave a better, and somewhat horrific view of the tunnel they were in. The flow was a deep murky brown that sort of loped along in no particular hurry, showing off the chunks of things better left unnamed as they bobbed to the surface and were swallowed again. The sewers were largely designed to control the flow of water from storms, and when the snows melted in the spring. But, they also served to cart waste of any variety out of the city. Rotten food, dishwater, and other, fouler, more disgusting byproducts were all poured down the drains along the streets to take this slow churning vomitous journey out of the city.
"I say we stick to only tunnels with this nice walking ledge," Wesley said. The massive tunnel they were in had a five or so foot ledge on each side that looked maybe a foot or so above the water level.
"I agree," said Dhaunre, "Besides, Jergenson said to stick to the main tunnels anyways." She had no desire to wade around in that foul sludge any more than absolutely necessary.
The others nodded in agreement. "Down er, stream, then?" Sharain asked of the group.
The first hour or so was uneventful, just the constant slow churn of the flow. They followed it, diverting occasionally down main tunnels that looped back around to their main route. Sharain walked in front, leading the way by following the map.
It was the skittering shadow that set her on edge, Sharain had seen it too, and he had stopped on the balls of his feet. She wasn't sure if she heard it or saw it, but the tensing of the two of them brought the whole group to a halt. Dhaunre looked at Sharain, waiting to see if he could identify what was making the noise. It could have been rats, but they had heard plenty of those at this point and this was different. Heavier, slower, more deliberate, and certainly enough to set them both on edge.
Sharain pressed against the wall of the tunnel and moved to the side passage, peering carefully around the corner to avoid being seen. He held up four fingers behind his back so that he wouldn't give himself away, but the rest of the group could see that there were four of them. Whatever they were. Sharain crouched on the ledge, and slipped one of the knives out of his boot ready to throw.
Dhaunre dropped into a crouch, her grip on the polearm having the bottom spike leading, and the blade following. She held it behind her, the blade over and behind her head. Her free hand pressed into the floor, keeping her balance as she prepared to sprint in.
Just as she looked back up at Sharain to wait for him to signal them, a streak of orange and steel flew past her, knocking her into the wall of the tunnel, and a shrieking bellow rang down the tunnel. Dhaunre straightened in disbelief. Had the dwarf just jumped in there?
She looked back at Wesley and Alek, who shrugged at her. No dwarf back there. She looked ahead at Sharain, whose jaw was slack as he stared into the tunnel in shock. "Oh you have got to be kidding me. Is he out of his damned mind?" She didn't really need an answer to the question, she could only bolt in and try to keep him from getting killed.
She took off down the landing and turned the corner in time to see a pile of furry little arms and legs, dropped boxes, spikes and orange and blue and a fair spot of blood. Thorkin was just barely overwhelmed by three of the dirty little dog creatures. But he was thrashing about under the pile of them, the spikes on his armor ripping open wounds on the kobolds.
The three weren't her immediate concern, Dhaunre noted, her immediate concern was the six coming to help the three that were being thrashed to death. "Son of an orc!" she barked, sprinting to intercept the group of them.
Sprinting was more like splashing, but she collided with the first two kobolds at top speed. She led with the spike at the bottom of the wing, and spun away from her target, the blade following. She brought her left arm in line to block a blow from the kobold's pick. Rolling the wing over in her grip, she brought it down like an axe against the neck of the kobold, knocking him to the ground. She followed through the movement, slashing into the next one.
The next kobold was ready for what was coming and hopped backward just in time. Dhaunre overcompensated and stumbled forward, opening herself to the kick she took on the chin. She tried to blink away the stunning blow, and rolled over to get her feet back under her. "A little help up here!" She yelled, blocking a blow from an axe, and feeling the prick of a knife stab her in the leg. Two of them attacked her at once, the other three were making for the rest of the group. Thorkin was shaking off the last of the initial kobolds so that he could start anew on the fresh ones.
A streak of light sizzled past her right ear, almost blinding her and impacting with a pop into the chest of the kobold in front of her. She pushed against him, using her strength to shove the kobold further back off of her. She shouldered it back, scraping the Talon across where the magic missile had just impacted.
She brought the wing down along her side, making a strike for the second of the kobolds as another streak of light came in, and took the kobold in the side of the head. When it's head snapped to the side, the Wing whistled home, finishing the cut, and finishing the kobold.
Freed from her opponents, Dhaunre wheeled around to see what was left. She ran to help Thorkin with the last two Kobolds, but on the way, she slipped, on what she didn't want to know. Her feet shot out from under her and she landed on her chin with a crack and an "Oomph!" The pain shot right into her ear, causing her eyes to tear up. She pushed herself back onto her feet, a nasty scrape on her chin, her elbow feeling bruised, and the knife wound in her calf screaming for attention.
"You sick little piece of goblin dung," she growled through gritted teeth, and finished her charge with a vengeance. She took the wing in both hands, and swung it in an upward arc under the armpit of the kobold, skidding across its ribcage with a rattle that jarred her pain-stricken arm. She spun her grip and came back down, opening up another slash across its torso.
"Yer just takin' too damned long," Thorkin barked, punching the kobold through the head with one of his spiked gloves. "Damned elves always have to make a damned art of it."
Dhaunre's assault came to a halt, and she stared at the dwarf in mild disbelief. "I had it under control. It would have died"
Thorkin looked up at her, "Of what? Natural causes?"
Sharain snorted, trying to stifle his laugh, "Come on you two, how bad are you hurt? That was a nasty spill."
Dhaunre shook her head as Alek made his way up to check her chin and shoulder, "I don't think I'm going to die. Stings like all hell though."
Alek had a gentle touch, as he felt along her jaw for a break. She noticed he had mossy green eyes. One of those things you notice when someone's face is only inches away from your own. "She'll probably be okay. Just need to clean up and bandage to keep it from getting infected."
Wesley was rifling through the crates with Sharain, "Look what we have here. I think we interrupted something."
Dhaunre looked over Alek's shoulder, "What is it?"
Wesley put a slim locked box down on the remains of one of the crates. "Anybody have a key?"
Thorkin wiggled his fist, "I do."
Wesley put up his hand to stop him, "Something that won't destroy what's inside?"
Sharain shrugged, "I have an uncle that's a locksmith, I might be able to figure it out. He squatted in front of the chest and fidgeted with the lock.
Wesley pointed down at the floor near Dhaunre's foot, "You're bleeding all over the floor."
Alek looked up from where he was fishing out bandages and saw the dark little puddle, "Why didn't you say something?"
"Least of my hurts," Dhaunre said, "I didn't think about it. Sorry." She dropped the waders and sat down to unbuckle the greave that covered the lower half of her leg. It was grimy, and she didn't want to think of how foul she would smell when Wesley's spell wore off.
A click and a squeak heralded Sharain's success with the chest. Inside, on a bed of soft fabric, were six glass vials filled with a golden liquid. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, as if the whole thing would shatter.
"Potions," Wesley said quietly, "any labels on them?"
Sharain lifted one of the vials out and turned it around shaking his head, "Doesn't look like it."
"Labels would be convenient. We can't have that," Dhaunre growled as Alek tightened the bandage around her calf. "What else is there?"
Wesley rooted around through the three boxes, "A little money, a couple of hand kegs, and it looks like two more of those boxes wrapped to look like bolts of cloth." He pulled the boxes out of bundles of red fabric and set them down next to Sharain.
"Would it be okay with the rest of you if we sorted all of this out after we get topside?" Asked Wesley, "I don't know what all of this stuff is, and I think we should all get a fair share."
Dhaunre nodded, "Fine by me. Everyone else?" Alek nodded his agreement as he secured the last bandage under Dhaunre's chin, by tying it on top of her head. The white bandage tied around her head, giving her a pair of cloth bunny ears had the rest of the party trying to hide their snickers from her.
She scowled at the dwarf, "Oh stuff it."
Alek was trying to get everyone to quit laughing, "Not to rain on our parade, but I think we need to take her topside. That stab is pretty deep, and I still think she's dislocated her shoulder. We need to get in the fresh air so I can tell, and we can get her some more experienced help if she needs it.
"She is right here," Dhaunre huffed. It was hard to look indignant with cloth bunny ears. But she gave it a good try. "I'm fine, I'll make it."
Alek scrutinized her, "If you say so."
Wesley looked around, "We probably need to get moving before whoever this stuff was supposed to go to decides to come looking for it. With one of our fighters gimped, we'd have a hard time of it at the least, at I'm running out of spells."
Dhaunre got to her feet after getting her armor and waders back into place. The group packed up their find, and moved out of the side tunnel back to the main passage, following the ledge.
When they reached the chamber that marked the end of their route, they climbed up to the surface. Looking filthy, beaten and exhausted, they headed back to the House of Good Spirits.
They checked in with Jergenson on the back side of the stables. He looked at the crew and tried hard not to laugh, "You lot're a sight! What the hells happened to ye?"
Alek spoke up, "We had a run in with some smugglers, I think. They gave us a pretty hard time."
Jergenson looked at Dhaunre, "Well, I'll give you credit, you look like you took the whole lot of em on yourself."
Thorkin was happy to correct him, "Nah, she just took a header down a sewer pipe and I had ta save 'er."
Alek pointed out, "She held her own, but that was a bad fall she took. How's that stab?"
Dhaunre shrugged, embarrassed by both Jergenson's amused look and Alek's compliment, "Hurts like hellfire, but it'll not kill me today."
Jergenson shook his head, "The lot of ye strip out and get washed up out here. You're covered in slop. Then you can come on in and have a bite of midday meal."
Dhaunre was glad to be out of her armor. She tried to get the leather thong out of her hair, but it was matted into place. She cut the thong, and found that the entire braid had been matted up with whatever goo she had gotten into. She scrubbed herself off in the outdoor tub, hoping that would help, but for all it was worth, the braid was stuck.
She stood on tiptoe to find that Alek was using the stall next to hers, "Psst! Alek. You have a knife over there?"
Alek looked up and covered himself with a gasp, "Er, I do. Everything okay?"
"Fine," She said, "I just need to cut this braid out. It's tangled too bad to recover."
"I can do it for you, maybe it won't come out too uneven," he said, fishing the knife out of his satchel.
"That'll do," she said, and wrapped herself in the drying cloth before coming around to his stall. She turned her back to him, "Just figure out where I can get it to fall out and cut it there if you would"
She turned her back to him, and he frowned, "What's this?" He touched a dark mark on the back of her shoulder, shaped kind of like a bird.
She shrugged, "Birthmark. Not all elves are perfect you know."
"It's going to wind up about here," he said touching her back between her shoulder blades, "That's a lot of hair I know."
"Just do it. I can't stand the idea of whatever may be caught in there," she answered. It took a good minute of sawing, but sure enough, Alek eventually cut the braid free, and held it out to her.
"There you go," he said with a nervous grin.
She crinkled her nose, "Oh that smells awful. I'll throw it away. Thank you."
"Um, you're welcome." He said.
Dhaunre finished her first bath and went into the House for her second, the one with hot water. It was already prepared for her, and she sunk into the steaming water with a grateful sigh.
One of the girls that worked in the inn came into the bathhouse, and smiled at Dhaunre politely, "Tough first day?"
Dhaunre nodded, "I've definitely had easier ones."
"Do you need me to help wash your hair or scrub your back?" She asked.
Dhaunre smiled at the prospect, "That would be so wonderful I could never repay the favor."
Once clean and dressed, Dhaunre made her way to the inn proper for dinner. It had taken almost half a day to get cleaned off. She would never admit such a thing to Ila, but she rather liked the noisy boisterous nature of the inn. She saw her team sitting together at a table and went to sit with them.
"Feeling better?" Wesley asked while buttering a roll.
Dhaunre nodded. The bath and clean clothes had improved her frame of mind immensely. "You?"
"A little stiff to be sure, but none the worse for the wear," he replied.
"Did you cut your hair?" Sharain asked.
She laughed at the obvious answer to that question, "Nope. It shrank in the wash."