Cerberus Rex, Nameless

Part 4| From Bad To Worse, 11

Asinis lifted his head from the patched blankets he lay amongst. They had moved Mr. Noarwin's table under the window, so Asinis and Silas could sleep on the floor or sofa. Mr. Noarwin spent the night in his room in the back, while Feri took refuge in a smaller room just beyond the curtains. It surprised Asinis when Mr. Noarwin took her privacy into consideration. He'd half expected Mr. Noarwin to invite her to his bed despite her ugliness or demand she share the floor with the others. Though Asinis preferred keeping Feri close, he appreciated their separation this once. He crept onto all fours. Silas slept without any sign of disturbance. Asinis curled to his feet and, pocketing his ring of disguise, tiptoed out the door.

A warm night greeted him. Asinis swept his gaze over the neighbor's open window from which sweet incense snaked into the faint moons' light. He studied the stacked homes towering in all directions. Low lit lamps hung on a few posts to illuminate the planked slums. Asinis zigzagged down the stairs under their glow. He passed magenta, crimson, and blue canvases placed as if in an attempt to brighten the place. Some dipped over individual homes while others crisscrossed to all sides of the street. Below them, Asinis's boots splashed into a puddle. Torchlight reflected on its rippling surface. It settled, and Asinis got a view of his face. He frowned at it. Dirty. Scruffy. He ran a hand over his stubble. He almost preferred the ring's disguise. His finger brushed over the fragment, and his appearance changed into the dark, plain-looking young man. He stooped his shoulders and avoided the graveyard patrol and the few people working or seeking pleasure so late at night.

He wound through the dark streets. Rough types shouldered past him. An urchin slipped one's coin purse off his belt before slinking into an alley undetected. The capital, Asinis observed, became a very different place at night. Then, at the edge of the city, he stood before a broken net of iron bars over a massive tunnel to the sewers. Rust and algae climbed across the bars while gathered moisture dripped from the severed ends. Asinis covered his face with a hand for the stench wafting from inside and then stepped through the opening. Rats scurried out from the light he conjured in front of him. He avoided the water by balancing on a ridge bordering the sewage stream then paused at a crossroads. He found the small mark indicating a direction and followed it until he came upon a manhole. Asinis, grinding his teeth, twisted and pulled it open. It screeched and groaned until it revealed an inky abyss he climbed into by a series of bars floating between it and the bottom. His knuckles white, he descended until a faint light coming from one direction revealed signs of the bottom. Asinis planted his feet there and, sending a wary glance up, gathered his bearings.

He didn't think he'd find himself here again, but circumstance implored he try to fulfill Mr. Noarwin's demands. Despite himself, Asinis couldn't let Feri get dragged down any further. Damned magic had made him soft. He turned toward the illuminated tunnel and followed it into a chamber that opened up. Asinis heard the bustle of people first, then the light from inside stung his eyes. When they adjusted, he found himself in a familiar underground market, The Cerulean Hatch. No one shouted their wares. Most conversations consisted of bargaining or arguments. Asinis passed a hobgoblin and ogre bickering over the price of some weapon, while the human seller watched chewing on a toothpick.

"We can't afford that, and you know it," the hobgoblin said to the ogre.

"I need it to kill elves," the ogre said.

Asinis hurried past them. An audaciously dressed, yellow-skinned solare strutted across the road, pickpocketing those she passed. Asinis didn't call her out, and neither did anyone else who spotted her. He picked his way through the sparse crowd until coming upon the edge of the underground town near sewage passages. A piece of ground rounded at the edge where a series of raised stones caught many an unsuspecting pedestrian by their feet. They created a series of patterns between which algae grass grew. An old, dark-skinned man with silver hair sat on one of the stones. He wore gray rags and held onto a crooked walking stick. A lumbering orc stood over him beside a ranger type human with a couple goblins on his heels. They made an odd group, which pressed Asinis to hurry on. He didn't want to get mixed up in shady business with adventurers or villains. He didn't make it far before one of the goblins cackled and swiped at the old man. He fell over his sitting stone, revealing that he had a missing leg and the other was bandaged. Asinis ducked his head. A flicker of frustration sparked in his chest, but wanting to avoid a confrontation, he pressed on.