Quinn grunted as he was lifted off of his feet, the air in his lungs being squeezed out of him by Mona’s tight embrace. He could hear Argus chuckling somewhere behind him, but Quinn was pretty sure he was up next, so he couldn’t wait to return the favour. Finally being released from her iron grip, he patted the dwarven hugging machine on her burly arm. She had a large new scar running from her wrist to her elbow since the last time he saw her; crisscrossing diamonds that seemed to have seared into her flesh, like she had used her arm as a shield against a flaming net.
Her entire body was a tapestry of conflict, years of brawling in the streets leaving her short and squat frame scarred and muscular. Geometric tattoos covered her palms like arcane seals, with each finger holding a Dwarvish inscription of a different tenet that Mona found personal truth in. From what Clay and Mona had told him, it was a cultural practice for most casts of dwarves to engrave themselves with the sections of their complex and layered doctrine that spoke to them most deeply. His Dwarvish was very rudimentary, but the words he could read at a glance were “LOVE”, “MERCY” and “WRATH”. Yup, that sounds like Mona all right, he thought to himself.
“It’s good to see you Mona, how are you feeling after your latest triumph against wickedness in your crusade against evil? Also… have you seen Argus yet?” Quinn said with a pleased smile, artfully stepping to the side to leave the scalekin directly in her line of sight.
“BAH, I’ve had worse beatin’s from fallin’ out of bed!” She laughed uproariously, causing a slight rattle in the loose tile roof of the rundown woodshop. Piles of discarded timber and half-finished furnishings laid strewn about, with Clay studiously checking over them for anything of “personal and artistic value”. Quinn knew that his brother’s eccentricity was a necessity for his class, and he didn’t begrudge him for it, even if it often left him sneaking into the trades halls to add to his ever-dwindling art supplies. His brother was a Collector, and it was almost as restrictive a class as his own. To get experience, Clay had to feel the value of an item, then take possession of it; it had to speak to him on a personal level, and he had to desire or appreciate it in some significant way. This was actually a boon in his favour in Quinn’s opinion, as his brother could find the beauty and meaning in a sun-bleached corpse in the street. The many macabre paintings he had crafted of similar sights proved his point was spot on, much to his chagrin.
“ARGY!!” Mona squealed with delight as she saw her next victim, dashing towards the suddenly cowering lizard and scooping him up into a crushing squeeze. Argus’s large, annular pupils tightened into slits as he glared at Quinn, causing him to do the same back with his feline eyes. Quinn was pretty sure both of them appreciated having someone around with familiar features; Argus was one of the few scalekin in the city not a part of the local noble houses, and Quinn’s Eyes of Opportunity had altered the structure of his eyes when the skill formed at birth.
It was quite common for a skill to change the appearance of the wielder, and it was almost inevitable that the eyes of a Classbound would undergo some level of change, at least if they continued climbing the Heavenly Ladder. For Quinn, the change had been quite drastic, compared to the human-looking eyes of gnomes and elves. What would normally appear as sclera were in fact vibrant emerald irises, spattered with flecks of gold and holding dark, cavernous pupils that seemed to absorb all light that plumbed their depths. Even when tightened to slits, they had an unnerving darkness that had made quite a few avert their gaze over the years. Most people tended to find his pupils shifting size and shape the most uncomfortable to watch, which was why he and Argus played their little game; it was a form of mutual acceptance that, while neither of them ever said aloud, formed a silent kinship between them, despite Quinn’s aversions to mix work into their hangouts.
Argus was one of the few people in the city that Quinn could actually spend personal time with; Lucy almost never took a break longer than a few hours, Mona was usually working as a roaming bouncer between low-end establishments, and his brother was either in seclusion or scouring the city for lost “treasures”. Argus was an outlier, as he worked when he wanted to and rested when he didn’t, which fit well into Quinn’s opportunistic style of gathering XP. Many of his free hours had been spent listening to Argus explain the ins and outs of various games he played for money, interesting matches and upcoming fighters he had seen, and the hierarchical culture of scalekin society as they patrolled for easy pickings. He needed constant attention, and Quinn was happy to give it.
Argus let out a rasping hiss as Mona dropped him to his feet, rubbing his back and staring into her beaming face with a scowl. He dusted off his dark green waistcoat, something Quinn had actually stolen for him some time ago, and looked back up at Mona.
“You know, if you were a beautiful scalekin instead of a brutish dwarf, you would surely be the matriarch of an entire clan with such… heft.” He said with a sardonic leer, his verbal jab doing nothing more than widening Mona's smile.
“And if you were a handsome dwarf instead of a slimy lizard, maybe Lucy would finally notice those looks that yo- mphmh!” Her words were cut short as two scaled hands were suddenly covering her mouth, completely failing to hide her knowing smirk. Before their banter could continue, a swift rapping on thick metal echoed throughout the workshop, causing Clay to nearly jump out of his skin as it happened directly beneath his feet. With a mocking laugh, Quinn jokingly shoved his brother into Mona, a high-pitched squeak escaping his lips as he was grabbed from behind and hauled off of his feet. Grabbing the stained carpet and yanking it to the side, Quinn found a weathered and dented iron trapdoor, with the handle long removed and the edges sealed shut with some kind of metal manipulation skill. Rows of thin spikes formed from the edges of the hatch and curved downwards, digging into the smooth granite around it like a tick desperate for a meal.
“Mona, I think Lucy needs a hand over here.” Quinn called as he heard a soft thump and intelligible grumbling, turning to see a sour Clay slinking away to continue his perusal of the woodshop’s hidden masterpieces. Quinn took a few steps back next to Argus as they watched Mona begin her preparations. Her padded leather wrappings and thin metal plates that most dwarves considered “perfectly adequate clothing” rustled and clinked as she squatted in front of the hatch, gripping both sides in a lifter’s position. A subtle, orange glow began to emanate from beneath her skin, seeming to highlight her already well-defined musculature as she began to pull with a modest amount of effort. In moments, the metal began to creak and groan, the sound unnatural and piercing as her powerful grip warped the shape of the hatch itself. With a small grunt she ripped upwards, a deafening clang filling the space as the trapdoor slammed into and through the low roof, before disappearing entirely. Stone dust billowed up from the uncovered hole in the ground as a few slate tiles fell from above, loudly shattering into red shards around a satisfied Mona.
“Subtle yet effective as always, my large friend.” Quinn said with a forced neutrality, trying to hold back a chuckle as he glanced at Argus. He was doing the same, but their efforts were dashed as they heard a distant and hollow crash from somewhere outside, followed by muffled yelling and a scattering of confused and angry voices. Instantly, both were doubled over with a raucous duet of laughter, causing Mona to join in as she reached into the hole with a powerful hand.
Emerging from the chalky mist, a frowning and grubby Lucy was holding on to Mona’s arm like a koala to a tree. She had a tired and grumpy look on her face as she looked towards the sunlight streaming into their “secluded and hidden meeting place”. Patting Mona in thanks and wiping her hands on the large woman’s side to clean her hands, she cleared some of the dirt from her face before nodding towards the new hole.
“Did you manage to get here from your place without any trouble?” Argus asked with a half-serious look, the laughter stopping as fast as it started as concern spread across his face. A fatigued thumbs up lessened some of the tension in the scalekin’s shoulders as he threw her a shy smile. Lucy was a very private individual, even more than Quinn (which was saying something), and she wasn’t comfortable letting others know where she rested her head and where she did her work. It didn’t bother any of her companions, though; it was just one of those things that you get used to, when you spend your life being seen as either a victim, mark or prey.
Looking into the hole, the clouds of dust slowly settled to reveal tarnished rungs leading down 20 feet to a mossy, stone-tile floor. He could make out two sturdy duffle bags at the bottom, with what appeared to be a handful of luminous crystals resting on top of them.
“Clay, we're heading out in a minute, after Lucy can feel her legs again.” Quinn near-shouted to get his brother's attention, causing him to look up from the pile of half-assembled chairs he was shifting through, and Lucy to shoot him a flat look.
“Your adventurous spirit is an inspiration to us all, little brother. Just… please, keep yourself safe, okay? I can't lose my favourite subject, it will ruin so many works in progress!” He said with a forced smile, shuffling over to tower over Quinn. Clay wasn't very comfortable with physical contact, but he put his hand out towards his brother all the same. Quinn grasped it with both hands and shook once, before letting go with a grin.
“You better have finished that “surprise” when I get back, or I'll turn myself in to the enforcers so you can't get any of my hard-earned riches!” Quinn snickered, causing a wave of disgust to wash over Clay’s face.
“It is impossible and rude to rush perfection, you crude and tasteless buffoon!” Clay declared with a pointed finger, a weak simper on his lips as he watched his little brother dive carelessly into the deep pit before them. A wary Argus followed next, with Mona close on his heels as Lucy sat on the edge, looking down at the procession with excitement clear on her face. After a moment of rest, she let out a calming breath, gave Clay a joking salute and grabbed the first rung. It was time to risk it all, for a chance at winning bigger than any of them had ever dreamed was possible.
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“I am already regretting agreeing to this…” Argus murmured to himself, looking down at his once pristine leather boots that now had a thick coating of muck, waste and filth. Each step was cold and wet, leaving his mood in a similar wretched state as they trudged through the sewers.
“We did tell you to watch your footin’, not our fault your Dexterity is the same as a corpse’s.” Mona said from behind him, causing Quinn to turn back and laugh, and Lucy to point her light crystal in his face to stop his complaining. They had been walking for over 3 hours, with every turn and narrow walkway over rivers of flowing sewage taking them deeper into the labyrinth of crisscrossing tunnels. Quinn held the front position, his pupils wide and alert as he scanned for hidden dangers. He was the only one not holding a light crystal, the dark an old friend that he had spent his whole life traversing with ease. He stayed around 10 to 15 feet ahead of the others, giving them enough time to either prepare for a fight or flee if he gave the signal. Mona kept the rear guard, with Argus and Lucy walking mostly side by side, at least until the passages became too tight to do so. It went unspoken that they had to stay relatively quiet to avoid unnecessary trouble, but the occasional conversation and banter resonated across the slick cobblestones when the silence became too tense for comfort.
After another hour they reached a vast and spacious cylindrical chamber, with the tunnel they came through leading onto a suspended platform jutting out of the stone wall on one side. Rancid smells and the sound of crushing waves assaulted them as they entered, with Quinn and Lucy taking the brunt of the sensory bombardment due to their high Perception. On the opposite wall was a roaring waterfall of fetid liquids, coming from a pipe as wide as the room itself, and reaching over 100 feet in the air to just below the ceiling. Sconces holding larger versions of the crystals in their hands were dotted around the curved walls, filling the space with a soft, green glow that made the wastewater look like a torrent of frothing poison.
“You sure this is the right way, Luce?” Mona asked, receiving a blank stare that made her raise her hands in surrender. Pulling out her jumble of maps and blueprints, Lucy pointed at a giant cylinder with a familiar tunnel leading into it, easily dwarfed by the humongous overflow pipe above them. It revealed that underneath them was a branching intersection of smaller pipes leading in every direction like the sprawling roots of an oversized tree. On the map, there was a spiral staircase leading up and down from the platform they stood on, but a glance around proved there was a snag in their plan. The stairs were gone, broken shards of grey stone the only remnants of the ancient stairway remaining.
“Well… shit. Do we have a plan for this, Lucy?” Another annoyed stare in response caused Quinn to mimic Mona, getting a smirk from Argus as he did so.
“Have you two learned nothing from our past jobs? Lucy is an experienced and consummate professional, one that always plans for every-” Argus began to say, but his smug face twisted into a look of shock and fear as Lucy opened one of the duffle bags.
“...eventuality. Is this… really the only way to reach the auction house?” He said meekly, causing a frustrated huff to escape Lucy’s lips as she dumped the contents of the bag between them; a curiously small coil of slim silver rope, over 2 dozen iron pitons with runes etched around their tips, four harnesses made of thick leather that wrapped around the waist and thighs, and what appeared to be a simple blacksmith’s hammer that was coated in interlocking sigils. After a moment to let them understand their next step, Lucy pointed a tiny red crystal towards the top of the waterfall, and a thin beam of scarlet light shot out to reveal their destination. At the very edge of the large pipe was a thin walkway, barely avoiding being flooded over from the rushing sewage.
“I’m guessing you want me to go first, then?” Quinn asked with a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the feeling of dread crawling up his spine. Lucy’s affirmative nod only added to his unease, but he squared his shoulders and began to put one of the harnesses on. He knew that he didn’t have a choice in the matter, so he may as well go all in. As he did so, Lucy picked up the glittering rope and demonstrated how it worked. It looked to have only 10 feet of length, but with each unfurled loop the amount of coils oddly remained the same. She pulled out over 50 feet from the enchanted rope with seemingly no change at all, then tapped the end a couple times in a specific order. The additional length shimmered for almost 30 seconds before vanishing, silver motes of light curling through the air and back into the rope. Quinn was quite impressed; she had either spent a relatively large amount of coin to procure the enchanted item, or had stolen it from someone that had. The hammer and pitons were simple by comparison, and didn’t require a demonstration for him to know how to use them; all he had to do was hit a piton with the hammer, and it would be driven into the stone with a magically increased force. He just hoped he didn’t accidentally hit his fingers with it…
Time wasn’t a pressing issue, as they had around 13 hours until they needed to be at the service hatch, so Quinn took a few minutes to calm his nerves. The journey would take another 5 hours after their daring climb, giving them roughly 8 hours for breaks to relax and prepare for the heist at the auction house. The second duffel bag was filled with a variety of simple comforts and travel foods for their rest periods, enough for even the insatiable Mona to keep her mana and stamina topped up: nuts and berries, cured strips and chunks of assorted meats, a small firkin of butter, a few canteens of water and even a large (presumably stolen) loaf of pandemain bread. The mouth-watering white bread was considered a delicacy to Quinn and the others, as most loaves they ate consisted of cheap rye with the husk mixed in, or a bland mix of peas, beans and mixed grain. They had all agreed to eat it together during their final rest before they entered the auction, with Quinn morbidly thinking of it as a last meal, in case this turned out to be his final heist. After a handful of blueberries and a strip of salted beef jerky, he stood up, collected his tools and walked towards the edge of the platform.
Looking down into the swirling rapids 50 feet below them, the murky waters seemed to bubble and churn in an endless cycle of twisting filth and putrid miasma. Small whirlpools dotted the swampy lake, with clumps of debris and waste circling ominously before getting pulled under. Occasionally a whirlpool would get blocked and vanish for a short time, only for a stinking geyser to shoot from its location as the enchanted pipes attempted to clear the blockage. Quinn would have honestly thought it was a natural occurrence, rather than a magically crafted one, if Lucy hadn’t gone into obsessive detail about every small step of their journey. From what Quinn knew, and he didn’t know much due to Lucy’s preference for privacy, she had a fairly limiting class as well. She had to investigate and uncover the truth behind secrets and lies, find hidden objects or information, or find something significant to someone that had been lost. To combat the slow trickle of XP she usually had to deal with, there was an amusing idea that Argus suggested a while back, one that they had all hoped would work; use Clay and his “hoard” as an experience farm for Lucy.
The idea was pretty simple; Quinn steals and hides something from Clay’s collection of miscellaneous paintings and knick-knacks, and Lucy hunts it down to return them to him. Theoretically it would work, due to the love and inspiration Clay found in all of the items of his hoard. In reality, one simply couldn’t plunder his treasures without him noticing. This was due to his first class ability, the defining power that made him a collector: Personal Vault. It was a very unique skill, but it was also similar to a common merchant class ability that most received, due to their requirements of having large swathes of items and coins to sell and trade. In Clay’s case, it had two core components; marking an inanimate object with an invisible brand that only he could see, and storing said object in a hidden dimensional space that only he could access. It would be incredibly useful, if it wasn’t so restrictive in what could and couldn’t go into the space. Because he could only mark an object that he resonated with or appreciated on an emotional or spiritual level, he couldn’t use it to hide most stolen goods from their criminal enterprises, or to store their (admittedly quite meager) coin and savings. And because of the brand, even if Quinn managed to steal an item from him, Clay would always know exactly where and how far away it was. For the moment, Lucy had to get XP the old fashioned way; sheer effort and dedication, things that Lucy had in spades.
Steeling his nerve, Quinn hammered a piton into the wall at the edge of the platform, easily threading the thin rope through it and creating a sturdy anchor point in case he slipped. After he felt securely fashioned he nodded to the others, focused his mind, steadied his breathing and climbed out over the chasm below. It wasn't that he was afraid of heights; it was quite the opposite. A lifetime of running and climbing had inured him to the primal panic of looking down from a great height, with it instead being replaced by adrenaline and excitement. What scared him now wasn’t the distance he would fall, but rather what he would fall into, and the submerged monsters likely lurking beneath those disgusting waves. From the stories he had heard and the outbreaks he had witnessed first-hand, there could very well be a fate worse than death down there, waiting for Quinn to fall right into its clutches.
Despite having a neglected Strength of only 10, his focus on Dexterity and Perception allowed him to scale the barely protruding stone tiles of the curved wall at a swift and steady pace. His keen eyes helped him find cracks and thin ledges large enough for his small hands and feet, and his Endurance was high enough that he could hammer in pitons at straining and uncomfortable angles with relative ease. After placing 5 anchor points in quick succession, he took a few seconds of rest, leaning back from the wall with his feet firmly planted. His gaze roamed about the bubbling cauldron of gunk below him, safe from the splashing and spray as even the strongest of geysers barely made it just below his starting platform. Still no obvious signs of danger, much to his relief, but he couldn’t quite drop his guard. You never know what might go wrong with Argus around…
It took less than half an hour and 3 short rests for Quinn to make it to the top of the waterfall, 100 feet above where his party waited, and 150 feet from the seething filth. He had actually climbed higher than the walkway he was aiming for, staying mostly in the centre before going straight to the side to avoid as much of the spraying sewage as possible. Besides a few rancid droplets he caught with his back on his approach to the walkway, he managed to remain almost spotless his entire climb, aside from the sweat on his brow and neck. Making sure the floor was stable and the path ahead was clear, he set about creating a few branching connections with the rope and pitons to secure it as best he could. He trusted Lucy and her preparations, but he also knew that anything could go wrong if he didn’t remain cautious, vigilant and pro-active when dealing with potential hazards. Plus, he wanted to make sure the line could handle all of Mona’s… heft, as Argus put it.
Argus looked up at the hazy form of his oldest friend, stepping onto the distant walkway next to a maelstrom of rotten liquids. It amazed and disturbed him what Quinn was willing to do to get the job done, the risks he would take and the dangers he would brave for even a single step towards his goals. For someone with one of the most restrictive classes he had ever seen, Quinn was terrifyingly good at maximising his XP gain, his daily routes and habits giving him a slow but noticeable stream. His larger schemes and jobs almost never went wrong, and if they did, it was either due to a factor they couldn’t predict or through someone else’s error. He was a higher level than most of the other street rats they interacted with, and the few that were higher couldn’t match his speed, efficiency and ruthless determination. He may not be a violent man, but he certainly scared Argus, not that he would ever say it aloud. His friend would probably be saddened to know the fear he put in all of them, small stature and friendly disposition be damned. As he watched Mona and then Lucy step out across the malodorous pit, he heard a familiar voice echo down from above like the commandment of a joyful god.
“Hey, Argus! Don’t look down!”.
