The office was opulently appointed, as was everything in the mansion. Yet, unlike the rest of the house, it wasn’t overdone. The room consisted of a dark mahogany desk that faced the door, a low table flanked by two couches in the middle, and a burnished drink cabinet along the right wall. The carpet was still luxurious, the upholstery still plush, and the curtains still lavish, but this room felt like a place of work, rather than a show of conspicuous consumption.
As the door glided shut behind them, the room’s other occupants rose to greet them. They were a couple, a husband and wife well into their golden years. The lady rose from behind the desk and came around to the front, while her husband, who was already standing, turned to face them.
“Welcome, esteemed adventurers.” The woman bowed deeply. Her long black hair, streaked with the first strands of gray, was collected in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore a simple dress of pale red which covered her body from wrist to ankle. She would have looked sharply elegant, if not for the softness of several kilos of excess weight and smiling wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Instead, she looked relaxed and as polite as her bow indicated.
Likewise, her husband was likely once a handsome man, though age made the word “distinguished” come more readily to mind. The same height as his wife, and with the same black hair—though his gray was collected at his temples—he had flushed cheeks and a warming smile. He plucked at his shirtsleeves, which were rolled up past his elbows, and gestured to the couches. “You’re the adventurers from Twilight Sound, I understand? Please, take a seat.”
As the highest-ranking member of Twilight Sound present, Shava stepped forward and bowed. Her helmet was under her arm, revealing her sharp cheekbones and dark brown hair, which had been cut in a line from her brow to the nape of her neck. “Thank you. We’ll take you up on that.”
Gavi settled on the right couch, between Mazik and Hectre. On the other couch, Shava sat nearest the couple, with Uard and Raedren to her right. She set her helmet on the table. “You’re the Di’Culots, correct?”
“We are.” The man tried to smile, though it came out as hesitant, unsure—and perhaps a touch senile? Gavi pushed that thought away. It was rude.
“Thank you for coming all this way to help us,” said the wife. Mis Di’Culot leaned back against the desk, clasping her hands on her lap. “I’m afraid Parnl has a lack of people such as yourselves, who may be able to help us with our … difficulty.”
Shava nodded. “Understandable. We’d be happy to help.” She shucked her gloves and laid them next to her helmet. She then reached into her backpack and withdrew a folded piece of parchment—the quest notice. She offered it to the couple. “We understand the gist of the job, but would you mind explaining it in detail?”
The husband looked up from the quest notice. “Ah, yes. Of course.” He set the parchment aside. “Honey? Would you like to do the honors?”
The wife stepped away from desk with a piece of paper, which she handed to Shava. “For several years now, we’ve been the owners and operators of the Flatrock iron mines. The mines have been extremely productive—the ore we’ve extracted there has been used in armor and weapons for the Jihnsruckian army, as well as several local guard forces. That includes the Saffir Guard, whom I understand you fought alongside during that regretful orck situation.”
Mis Di’Culot nodded at the page in Shava’s hands. “This is a sketch of a man known as Ungerr. He’s a bandit—violent, crude, and dangerous.”
Shava tilted the page toward Uard and Raedren, and then laid it out on the table. Gavi leaned forward. The sketch was … not very good. A thin mustache, a shaded jaw, short hair, no real identifying marks. She hoped they wouldn’t have to pick this man out of a crowd.
Mis Di’Culot frowned. “Not long ago, this Ungerr man arrived in the area and set his eyes on Flatrock. Unbeknownst to us, over the course of several months he tricked several of our workers into helping him undermine our control of the mines. They rerouted some of our tunnels, brought in illegal weaponry, and eventually revolted.”
“Five of our guards were killed in the violence.” The husband’s voice was heavy, clearly saddened. “Several innocent workers were injured as well.”
The wife squeezed her husband’s hand. “Since then, this bandit and our unruly workers—who now call themselves the New Lyfe Gang, by the way. Spelled with a Y, for gods’ sake. See? I wrote it here.” She tapped the picture.
“So you want us to subdue this New Lyfe Gang, capture or kill Ungerr, and retake the mines for you. Is that correct?” asked Shava.
The wife nodded. “Correct.”
The husband grimaced. “There’s just one … tricky element.”
“Please tell us anything we need to know, so we can ensure we’ll be able to complete the quest before we officially accept it,” said Shava, her voice crisp and professional.
The couple looked at each other. Something unspoken passed between them. The husband, whose face was noticeably pained, was the one to speak. “It’s just … if at all possible, we would prefer it if you did not hurt our former workers.”
This made Gavi raise an eyebrow. If Shava’s tone was any indication, it surprised her as well. “Even though they conspired and revolted against you?”
The husband nodded. He looked wretched.
“And why’s that?” asked Mazik. His voice was dark, and clearly suspicious.
The wife bit her lip. “It’s just … it’s not their fault. They’re just so impressionable, at that age.”
A chill shot down Gavi’s spine. “How old are these workers you want us to attack?”
The husband sighed. “Eleven to fourteen, mostly. The older workers all escaped. It was the youngest ones this terrible bandit managed to trick into helping him.”
“Oh goodie,” said Mazik. “We’re being hired to beat up children. That’s a new one.”
*
The Tiger’s Tooth Inn was the only inn in town. Fortunately, it was also a good one—with plenty of rooms, a nice common area, food that was fresh (if uninspiring), and a light, effervescent, and slightly tart ale that Mazik had never tasted before. Altogether, he had little to complain about. Which was good, because several of his teammates had been complaining for a while now.
“I still don’t like it,” Gavi was saying. She was slumped against the table, one hand gripped loosely around the handle of her mug while she stared morosely at nothing. “They’re trying to get us to fight kids. How is any part of that okay?”
“Okay, yeah, I’m not particularly excited about that part either—” Mazik stopped when Gavi snorted. He stared at her, his expression a mixture of astonishment and hurt. “Oh, come on! That’s not fair. I might enjoy the challenge of a good fight, but I don’t want to beat up kids any more than you do.”
Gavi frowned, then mumbled, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t like this.”
“Unless they’re really strong, in which case—”
Mazik ducked Gavi’s swat. He grinned. “Just kidding, just kidding. Look, they specifically said they didn’t want us to hurt the kids, much less kill them. So it’s not like we’re going in there to rub them out.”
“He’s right,” said Shava from across the table. Her armor was gone, stowed in her room upstairs. Instead she was wearing a simple white tunic with brown buttons and a pair of creased but comfortable khaki pants. She pointed a dinner roll at Gavi. “These kids helped kill five people and take control of a mine that doesn’t belong to them. Even if they were getting paid shit for the work they were doing before—”
“Which seems likely,” said Gavi, a noticeable note of inebriation in her voice. Raedren, Uard, and Hectre nodded.
“—even if that’s the case,” Shava continued, “we also gave our word that we’d complete the quest. Or try, at least. So we need to do it.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but think of the other side.” Hectre shifted in his seat. “These are children we’re tal
king about. How are we supposed to fight them? I mean, I understand both sides of the argument, but—”
“That’s why we’ll go in with non-lethal weaponry,” said Shava. “We’ll use clubs. Or even nets? And no dangerous spells. Just alteration, protection, enhancement. No evocation.”
“I agree,” said Mazik. “And before anyone says anything snarky, yes, I can hold myself back from injuring anyone.” He mock-glared at Gavi, then softened. “The bandit is the one we’re after. We just have to get around the kids. That shouldn’t require hurting them.”
“We probably don’t want to use evocation in an enclosed mine anyway,” said Raedren. “The ceiling probably won’t be the most stable. It could collapse on top of us.”
Gavi cast an injured look at Raedren. “Traitor.”
“I didn’t mean I wanted—”
“So it’s decided, then?” interrupted Mazik. He looked at Shava. “We’ll go in, as we promised?”
Shava nodded. “Sounds like it. Any complaints?”
Gavi grumbled, and the others didn’t seem particularly happy, but no one objected.
“Great. In which case, we should get to strategizing.” Mazik pushed his empty plate out of the way and leaned forward, pointing with his mug at Shava. “My good gentlewoman, would you like to get us started?”
“Sure.”
While Shava pulled out the map of the mines the Di’Culot couple had given them, Mazik looked at the others. Raedren and Uard were flirting, in a way that he recognized as noticeably Raedren—not much talking and with plenty of embarrassed silence, but with general contentment on both sides. Uard seemed to be mollifying Raedren about Gavi’s earlier comment, while he insisted (lied, Mazik knew) that it wasn’t bothering him.
As for Gavi, she had lifted her head off the table and was sipping at her beer. Hectre was doing his best to mollify her. “Don’t worry. If anything gets out of control, I’ll be there to help you save the children, or whatever else needs to be done. Also, have I mentioned how attractive you are when you’re pouting?” He flashed her a charming smile. “Well, you’re always attractive, so I guess it’s no surprise.”
Gavi snorted. “Yeah, right. Thanks.” Mazik noticed that her cheeks were flushed red—or was that from the alcohol? He had no idea. He mentally shrugged, wishing Gavi good luck, if that’s what she desired.
“Got that map ready?” Mazik asked Shava. “Let’s figure out how to beat up some kids!”
Everyone stopped talking and stared at him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, waving his hands, as if to ward off their glares. “That was in bad taste. Beat up a bandit. Come on. Lighten up! Please?” A pause. “Pretty please?”
Gavi kicked him under the table. Shava sighed and pushed the map to the center of the table. “Here’s the entrance. After that we go down …”
*
They arrived at the Flatrock mines the following day, around noon. They had opted to enter at noon in the hopes of catching their opponents at lunch. Also, several of them had overslept. Adventurers were not generally thought of as morning people for a reason.
The mines were an hour outside of Parnl as the caster runs, deep in the tree-swathed hills that dominated the area. Though calling them hills was selling them short—the further south they got from Parnl, the deeper the valleys and the higher the peaks became, until Gavi was inclined to think of them less as a chain of hills, and more a small range of mountains. The red rock they had been seeing became more evident as well, as more slopes were too steep for vegetation to grow.
Gavi took point again. She led the others through another of these valleys. The dirt path they had been using was wide and well-traveled, for such a remote area. Gavi led the group to the edge of the tree cover, then stopped in front of the next cliff face. They were there. She rested her hands on her hips as she examined their destination.
It was easy to see how the mines got their name. A large, flat outcrop rested over the entrance, like a skipping stone the size of the Di’Culots’ mansion. Gavi looked around; the eponymous flat rock must have broken off from somewhere else, an old spire, perhaps, though Gavi couldn’t see where it might have been. The cliff face above the entrance was one of the more gentle slopes they had seen, and was covered in squat trees and brush.
“Here we are.” Mazik stepped up beside her. He shaded his eyes with his left hand. “Anyone see anybody?”
Gavi hadn’t seen anybody, but she double-checked. The entrance to the mines was tiny, little more than a crack in the rock that had been widened—it looked like even Uard, who was the shortest, would have to stoop over to get inside. The rest of the area was empty, as far as Gavi could tell—the trees around the entrance had been cleared, with only another small dirt path that ran along the titular flat rock and an old fire pit off to their right to hint at human occupation. But the pit didn’t look like it had been used for a while. Gavi touched her focus crystal—Mazik’s really; she was still borrowing the necklace the Tyrant of Houk had given him a few months ago. She swept the nearby forest for casters.
It was Hectre who spoke first. “I don’t see anyone or anything.”
“I don’t keen any casters in the area, either,” said Raedren.
Shava raised the visor on her helmet and looked doubtfully at the entrance. “That entrance looks even smaller than we were told. I hope all of us can fit.” She glanced at Raedren.
“No worries. He’s tall but skinny.” Mazik clapped Raedren on the shoulder. “You’d be amazed at the kinds of places he can fit.”
“That’s what … she said?” said Raedren.
Mazik shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“Should we go over the plan again?” asked Gavi. “Only, maybe not in full view of the entrance. Just in case someone comes out.”
“Good idea.” Shava led them to a clear patch of dirt off the main path. She knelt, and the others did likewise. Shava held out her hand to Gavi. “Can I have the map, please?”
“Of course.”
Shava unfolded the map and laid it out between them. “The entrance opens here into the main shaft. It’s the largest of the tunnels, and the most important. Most of the other pathways branch directly off this one. It’s pretty much a straight shot down, so we’ll explore this one first.” Shava crossed her arms. “And, while I say that it’s the largest, it’s still not very large, so we’re going in single file. Is everyone still fine with the order? I’ll go first, then Hectre, then Uard and Mas Moro in the middle to provide support, then Mis Ven, then Mazik in the rear.”
Everyone nodded and agreed. “Sounds good to me,” said Gavi.
Shava folded the map up and handed it back to her. “Remember, there are a lot of side corridors, some of which are too small for most of us to fit in. That’s why they were employing so many kids. But this bandit is an adult, so he’ll have to be in one of the larger tunnels or rooms. We’ll focus on protecting ourselves from the little ones while we search for him.”
“Everyone got their not-quite-so-lethal weapons?” Mazik held up a short wooden club, which was the size of his usual daggers.
Everyone checked their weapons. Gavi had a wooden club as well, which was about the size and weight of the club she used when quelling bar fights back at The Joker. She also had her sword, which was secured in its sheath; they were keeping their usual weapons for use against the bandit only.
“Awesome sauce. Let’s do this,” said Mazik.
The six of them entered the mines. The entrance was indeed smaller than they had expected. Raedren had to fold over nearly double to fit, and Shava had to wiggle to force her iron-clad body past. But inside it opened up into a slightly larger passage. Raedren looked miserable, though he insisted he was fine. He said he was used to things like this.
The sun disappeared as they descended. Hectre—whose weapons of choice were a short sword and a buckler, though the sword had been exchanged for a stout club today—held up his hand. A soft yellow light glowed in his palm. He cupped it, focusing th
e light into a beam that swept back and forth in front of them. Mazik did the same, though his light was aimed behind them, as he watched for anyone coming down the mineshaft after them. Raedren left his light unfocused, illuminating the entire group.
Gavi let her hand trail along the wall as she picked her way down the steadily descending tunnel. Like the hills outside, the rock down here was a deep rustred. The ground was uneven; loose gravel and small rocks threatened to turn her ankle if she didn’t remain diligent. She kept her eyes out for any danger, but she couldn’t find any. There was just rock.
Privately, Gavi was glad she wasn’t scared of enclosed spaces. Otherwise, this place would have been a nightmare.
There was a sound ahead, like wood scraping on rock. The group cascaded to a stop, and Gavi had to rest her hand on Raedren’s back to avoid running into him. She could feel Mazik press close behind her.
Shh-tunk! There was a metal clang behind them, loud enough to make Gavi jump. She spun around, only to find a metal door where none had been before.
“What the hell?” Mazik rapped his knuckles on the door. On the other side, what sounded like metal fasteners clanked into place.
Gavi examined the door. It had been hidden in the ceiling, she realized, where it could be released when they went past. None of them had looked up.
“We’re trapped,” said Hectre. “What do we do now?”
Raedren sniffed. “Does anyone smell that?”
That’s when the hallway burst into flames.
“What the fuck?” Mazik sputtered as jets of fire poured out of holes in either side of the corridor.
Gavi sniffed as well. “It’s burning oil!”
“Move forward!” Shava yelled over the rising chatter. The group lurched into motion again.
Gavi swore, swiping sweat off her forehead as she slapped at the fire clinging to her legs. She could feel Mazik close behind her; he was swearing as well, about how his robes kept trying to light on fire. Gavi ducked down to squeeze through a narrow section—and found herself in a larger room.
Freelance Heroics (Firesign Book 2) Page 22