by Albion, Rex
“Who pays for it all? All the work I mean?”
“Taxes for lots of it, but we also earn good coin from the monsters that inhabit the sewers you see? Like the foresters earn some coin for keeping the forest clear of beasties while at the same time selling lumber. The town earns tax from that, and it all circles around,” Jill said. Then she blushed. “I attended a town council meeting once and learned some things by listening to them.”
“You attended a budget meeting?” Vandal asked.
“No, I wanted to ask about when we were getting an extension to the sewers around Southgate, but I had to sit through hours of people arguing about nonsense before I could ask my own question,” Jill sighed.
“I bet that was a laugh a minute.”
“I almost died of boredom,” Jill said. “We still don’t have the extension either.”
Vandal chuckled. “There’s nothing as tedious as local government, I think.”
“There’s national government?” Roxy pointed out.
“True, true. Just as tedious but bigger sewers.”
“And bigger shits,” Jill said. “Talking about bigger sewers.”
Vandal and Roxy laughed and thanked the Sewer Fighter's Journeywoman for all her help, then headed out. They had got what they needed to continue their mission to explore the mansion and perhaps find a way to deal with the Cult of Libidos.
Vandal was really hoping they hadn’t done all this work only to find out it was the wrong place. That would be more than a tad frustrating but at least they didn’t ever have to watch any tedious skippable cut-scenes they couldn’t skip.
“Only eight more giant rats to go!” Roxy said. “Yippee!”
“You don’t really sound excited enough for a ‘yippee’,” Vandal said.
“I hate leaving quests unfinished is all, I bet we go back down and get seven more, then it’s a month before we can get the last,” Roxy said.
“Or we make a third trip and get ten more, so we’ve wasted nine?”
“Even better. Are we going straight back in then?”
“I think we should. We don’t even know if we can get out the other end yet, and if we can’t, we could go outside town this evening and scout the mansion’s grounds for another way in,” Vandal said.
“We should take something to collect those remains though,” Roxy said. “Then we can hand them in for the bounty.”
“Not give her a decent burial?”
“That too, but you know what I mean. We can’t save her now.”
“It doesn’t feel all that heroic, does it?”
“No, but we can bury her with respect too, I’m sure,” Roxy said. “Unless the guards know who she might be, no-one will claim her. And that dress looked more like a plain shift to me than anything you could recognise, even if it wasn’t damaged. I think it’s what they put her in to sacrifice her, and they threw her in, wrapped up in it.”
“Only one body though. You’d think there’d be more, if they’ve been sacrificing women there?” Vandal asked.
“I’m not sure I want to think about it, but maybe she was killed after you rescued me? She’s the only one so far?”
“Yeah, or the junior cultists got lazy and threw one in the sewer instead of doing whatever they normally do to hide the bodies?”
“That also seems like a strong possibility,” Roxy agreed.
“I hate to say it because it sounds blunt, but let’s go and buy a sack on the way there, then.”
“I don’t think there’s a prettier way to say it, don’t worry.”
“I’m going to really enjoy killing the next cultist though.”
“Me too. Me too.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
It was much quicker making it into the tunnels of the sewers this time, Vandal found. Jill wasn’t a burden, but they’d had things to learn so their progress had been relatively slow. They didn’t bother with so much stealth this time around either, because they knew their own fighting abilities well enough.
Jill had been cautious but the life the locals led was very different to their Awoken status. For starters, it seemed that they could die permanently, although he wasn’t sure if some of them could respawn. If Jill died, would she come back like an Awoken could? Would she even know it had happened?
It seemed impolite to ask, but named characters in old games just came back, especially quest givers. New Albion was at a whole other level, even to the game he’d played as a teenager though.
The true artificial intelligences put in place by the developers could probably create a Jill replacement with a whole new back story in moments, but she might also be a recognisable figure to a lot of players who started out in Tinshire.
Her death and replacement might be easy for the game’s systems to handle on the fly, but it seemed unlikely that the player would enjoy their quest givers and contacts constantly being replaced due to the actions of other players. No, on balance he had to imagine that Jill was as permanent a character as a local would be in this world, and even if she died on an excursion to the sewers she’d respawn at some point.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to worry about all that, and he and Roxy weren’t having any trouble getting themselves where they needed to be. No strangely gelatinous creatures, no tentacular surprises from the murky depths and no giant rats.
“If it weren’t for the smell, this would be a pleasant walk,” Vandal said.
“Oh yes, I can see it making the local tourist information offices spring campaign. Tinshire, come for the metallurgy, stay for the fascinating sewer tours,” Roxy replied with what he was pretty sure was a good dose of sarcasm.
“Tinshire, it’s a cult hit!”
“Tinshire, sacrificing everything to make your visit memorable,” Roxy said. Her rejoinder made him laugh out loud, which he immediately regretted because he got more of a lungful of the foetid air than he was comfortable with.
Vandal stopped dead and cocked his head.
“What?” Roxy whispered.
He turned to her and shook his head softly, “It’s nothing. For a moment I thought I heard something. Probably just my imagination.” Roxy shrugged and they went on.
That was when they found the giant rats gnawing the bones by the iron gate that they were headed for. Three of the things this time.
Vandal wasted no time, and charged into combat, getting hits in on them as quickly as possible, while Roxy followed up with her lightning spells.
Slash: 1 damage!
Bleed Applied: 3 damage over 3 rounds!
All three of the rats lunged for him, and he fell back, with teeth embedded in his left thigh and right foot, and another rat snapping at his face, that he only barely held off with his shield.
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rate inflicts Minor disease -3 Strength until cured!
Shield Block: Giant Rat bite blocked with shield!
Vandal howled in pain and spat curses as Roxy shocked the same rat again, and he focused on it trying to kill it as quickly as possible. There was a greenish tint to his vision, as if the disease was making it hard to see properly as well, or perhaps it was just the game's way of showing him he was diseased. Either way, it didn’t help the situation.
Hack: 7 damage!
Giant Rat takes 1 damage from bleeding.
The first rat keeled over with burns and stab wounds all over it, but the one on his shield still snapped at him, and the foot biter had moved up to taking chunks out of his thigh.
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rat takes 1 damage from bleeding.
Vandal felt a wave of relief wash over him as the healing power of Roxy’s magic hit him, but that also meant she wasn’t using her lightning spell to damage the rates. He couldn’t use his Cleave skills because he needed a bigger weapon for that, to get the reach and hit two monsters. But his desperate hack took out a chu
nk out of one of the rats even as it bit him. The foul creature expired from the bleeding he’d inflicted a moment later.
Hack: 7 damage!
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rat bites you for 3 damage!
Giant Rat takes 1 damage from bleeding.
Now that there was only one rat left, Vandal put all his strength into slamming it in the face with his shield as Roxy zapped it again, trying to get it off him. The vicious beast snarled as it was flung away from him, and Vandal scrambled back toward Roxy.
The rat shook its head, like a boxer trying to clear its vision and then leapt in a high arc, aiming for Vandal’s head. He lunged forward to meet it, dropping to one knee and thrusting his sword up at a steep angle, meeting the rat's leap and impaling it through the skull. With a grunt he hurled the convulsing rat to his side, wrenching his weapon free in a gout of blood and gore.
New Finishing Move: You have unlocked a new finishing move, Impaling Lunge! 100 XP!
You killed three Giant Rats (lvl 2). 60XP
Roxy gasped when she saw him struggling to his feet, and immediately began healing him. But he still felt weakened by the disease. His vision was impaired by a de-buff, and he didn’t feel at all well.
“I can deal with that disease, I think,” Roxy suggested.
“Yeah, but not here in all this filth,” Vandal said.
“That doesn’t bother me, it’s important we get this done.”
“I don’t think a sewer is a great place to use Loving Heal.”
“No, I’m a dirty girl but not this kind of dirty,” Roxy chuckled. She cast a spell at him, and moments later his eyesight returned to normal, and the de-buff disappeared. His strength returned slowly. “I have a Cure Disease spell as well. It’s only good for minor diseases but no, I wasn’t suggesting we should get our freak on next to a river of shit and piss. I’m not that kinky, by a long shot. Should we pull back?”
Vandal laughed. “That is such a relief. I was really confused there for a moment, and not a little terrified. Let's get this poor woman bagged up and loot the rats, and see how far up the tunnel we can get, shall we?”
“Fine by me. Why don’t I use my light fetish for your benefit?” Roxy said.
“Saucy wench,” Vandal smirked.
“Why, High Priest Vandal, whatever do you mean?” Roxy purred, lifting her glowing fetish as high as she could to illuminate the dead rats and the bones.
“My mistake, I must have misunderstood your meaning.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
It was quite a relief that there weren’t any more decomposing victims in the tunnel, although they decided that probably meant the bodies had been got rid of in other ways, not that they’d found the only one.
At the far end of the tunnel, they found a ladder leading up to a simple wooden trapdoor, “Damn. We’ll need an axe.”
“Probably,” Roxy agreed. “In which case, why are you climbing up?”
“You never know,” Vandal said. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered when the trapdoor lifted with ease when he pressed on it. “They must assume the iron gate in the sewer is locked, so this doesn’t need to be.”
They emerged into a back storage room, full of shelves and barrels. A horrible thought crossed his mind, but several were open, and they contained nothing more disturbing than dried flowers and herbs. He scooped some up with his hand, and let it fall away. “Pungent stuff. A giant supply of potpourri?”
“Doubt it. It’s probably incense for burners,” Roxy said.
“Sounds plausible, how did you work that out? I was worried it would be food next to the sewer entrance.”
“Because this brass thing on the shelf has ash in it, reeks of perfume and looks like it’s for burning incense.”
“Ahh, your detective skills came fully into play then?”
“That’s me. I’m like a youthful green Sherlock Holmes. It’s really why I chose shaman as my class, it was the obvious fit,” Roxy said. “My skills also tell me this won’t count as evidence against the bad guys. What do you want to do, explore now or come back later?”
“Might as well have a look, right? This has to be the right place, but if we had proof already the guards would have come with us. They could be doing anything in here, any time of day, but doesn’t evening or midnight sound more like the time they’d hold their rituals?”
“Fine by me. After you, Vandal,” Roxy whispered, gesturing at the sturdy looking door.
He nodded and readied his sword, pulling gently on the door and pre-emptively wincing about the creak it would undoubtedly create. To his amazement, the door swung open on well-oiled hinges, without so much as a brief squeak. The cellar beyond was lit, dimly and the light was flickering, but it was manageable.
They doused the lanterns they’d bought from the guild, by pressing a quartz crystal on the top, and Vandal cautiously stuck his head out. They were in a dead-end passage, with a vaulted ceiling and walls made of red brick and no-one was about, so they stepped out and crept up to the corner.
Vandal felt like a kid trying to creep into the kitchen to raid the cupboards for snacks, while his parents watched late night TV. Only if they got caught in this house, the owners were likely to sacrifice them to their dark god. For chocolate and flavoured potato powder stamped into stackable shapes, it wouldn’t be worth it.
To defeat the worshippers of an evil god though, it was totally worth it. He turned to grin at Roxy and was pleased to see she was relishing the moment too. Across the huge cellar, Vandal could see massive wine barrels, and more side passages that he guessed led to rooms similar to the one they’d just exited. To their left was more of the same.
To their right, the space opened out though. The ceiling vanished upward, and they couldn’t tell much more than that from their corner. Vandal led the way among the piles of crates and bales of cloth, slowly advancing until they heard voices. They froze then. Still as statues until they were sure they hadn’t been spotted.
Around the next corner, they found a pair of curtains between each of the arches that formed the vaults. Six wide arches in all, each with their own rich velvet curtain that took up three quarters of the eight-foot span. Through the crack above the rich purple velvet, they could see light from the larger space beyond, and now they were closer, they could hear that the voices weren’t holding a conversation but were chanting instead.
Someone was accompanying the chanting with a slow, steady drumbeat, like the pounding of some monstrous heart. They reached the nearest curtain, and peeked through, Vandal high up, and Roxy just above his waistline.
Vandal was fully expecting to see dozens of cultists again, as they had in the temple of Amoria. He was relieved to find that there were only nine of them this time, though he felt sure more than that had escaped their improvised attack when they cleansed the temple.
This was clearly their true base of power though. The wall behind their altar depicted a hideous tentacled demon, or god, walking upright like a man but with pink octopus-like appendages that it had wrapped around women. He wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be worshippers or sacrifices, it was too disturbing for him to look out for long.
The geometry of the temple complex the creatures throne stood in front of, seemed to suggest a step-pyramid, but it might have been designed by Escher, for all the sense it made. His eyes watered just trying to comprehend it, and yet he couldn’t look away until Roxy tugged at his arm.
Vandal responded to her beckoning finger and crouched down, so she could whisper in his ear. “Are we going to save her then?”
“Save her?”
“The sacrifice.”
Vandal looked where Roxy was pointing, at the altar. Sure enough, a young woman was bound to it, naked and covered in blood. “She’s dead, Roxy,” he whispered. His eyes had been so drawn to the grotesque artwork, he’d barely registered the cultists themselves, or the target of their chanting.
“Then her tits are wobbling a lot for so
meone who isn't breathing,” Roxy hissed. “The blood isn’t hers.”
She was right, he realised. It was slight, but her ample bosom was rising and falling with shallow breaths. The woman must be unconscious.
“Some of it is,” he scowled. Now he was looking closely, he could see the priest leading the ceremony, who was stripped to the waist, exposing the lean physique of a bodybuilder was carrying a vicious looking whip. Something with a large number of long leather strips, and there were welts across the body of the victim, from her thighs up to her chest. No wonder she was barely breathing, she’d probably fainted from the pain. She definitely wasn’t a cultist who’d offered herself up for sacrifice. Was she? The idea someone might volunteer for such a fate sickened him, but it wasn’t totally implausible. These cultists were pretty far gone.
As they watched, the priest was reciting an incantation, and lifted the large candle stick in his left hand. It was shaped like a golden octopus, with six of the tentacles gripping thick candles, two to a holder. The remaining two tentacles formed the handle the priest held.
The candles were a deep purple, which seemed to be a theme for this temple, from the velvet curtains to the priests' pantaloons, and the cultists robes. Royal purple. Implying wealth. He wondered if the muscular priest was the merchant, or if the owner of the property was among the faithful. The girl whimpered in her fugue state as the priest dripped wax over her body, and it hissed and spat as it met the blood.
An assistant took the flail he was offered, and gave the priest an enormous, bejewelled dagger, with a stylistically wavy blade in return. It couldn’t have signalled that it was for sacrificing people any more clearly.
“Yeah, let's rescue her,” he grunted, standing up.
He drew the curtain back and charged with a roar, but that wasn’t the first thing the priest heard. He heard his own scream as his body convulsed with the powerful bolt of electricity that Roxy grounded in him. The knife and the candlestick dropped from his hands, as smoke rose from his oiled skin.