Soul Bound

1.3.3.31 Hemmed in



1        Soul Bound
1.3      Making a Splash
1.3.3    An Unrequited Love
1.3.3.31 Hemmed in

Pelts'n'Hides, off Carryin Crescent, Rooks Parish
Ghetto Area, Basso District, Torello

The distinguished priest had doubted the tip-off so, not wanting to appear a fool in front of Count Pazzi, he'd wisely decided to check it out in person before calling in the guard. But the side door to the darkened warehouse where these 'Leveller' scum were meeting had been unlocked as promised and, although his view was still blocked by the rows of pallets stacked high with musty skins and exotic leathers, the clamour of voices chanting "Ma-de-ro, Ma-de-ro" grew louder with every step.

Then to his right came the sound of axes chopping at the beam barring the main warehouse doors, and the chants changed to cries of panic. The guards had arrived, and he hadn't even needed to summon them. The priest's chest swelled with pride. Now all he needed to do was take the credit!

*BOOM*

The high double doors burst inwards so hard they clapped flat against the wooden walls on either side. The priest raised one thick dark eyebrow as he welcomed the troops in his most urbane voice: "Gentlemen, thank you for joining me. The rebels we seek are just over yonder."

It didn't occur to him, until two squads with crossbows had formed ranks and the front row were kneeling down to aim, that it really was quite dark in here, and that his voice might not be as recognisable as could be hoped over the din of the panicking Levellers.

Company Tenente: "Loose!"

Fra Meschino was the first to be pinned against the wall, when the revolution came.

Storage cellar, Association Hall,
Parish Quartet intersection
Ghetto Area, Basso District, Torello

Tomsk: {Don't panic. That crashing was the sound of Pazzi's troops attacking a decoy. It will take them at least another ten minutes to realise they've been fooled, work out where we actually are, and redeploy. That's more than enough time to evacuate everyone, if they follow Wellington's plan.}

Kafana: {What decoy? What plan? No, those questions can wait. What do you want me to do?}

Bulgaria had climbed up onto the improvised stage and was trying to edge past her to get to Madero. She stepped aside, then clambered down while trying to avoid catching her gossamer-thin dress on the protruding nails.

Bulgaria: {Thanks. You've done your bit, so you can relax for now; though you might want to change into something more suitable for running along sewer tunnels, while you have the chance.}

Wise advice. She picked the set of generic adventuring gear she'd received at Villa Landi that was still piled in her stash, and looked around as she changed into it. Bungo was sending one Dǒulì-hatted monk over to each group of people still organised by parish: Gobwell, Slag, Tickton, Scarrow, Rooks, Teeter and Hawks. Tomsk was using barrels to block the base of the stairs with the help of a particularly hefty trio of workers. Wellington, having attached the antler to the door lintel to his satisfaction, was now in the process of detaching the board on which he'd written down the articles of association. Alderney was nowhere to be seen.

Kafana: {What are you up to, Alderney? Or should that be "Raggedy Misstry"?}

Alderney: {Heh, ya got me. Yep, I'm doing a bit of scouting, a bit of negotiating, and just a little bit of mischief too. Check out the map!}

Kafana: {Sys, display the Womble's shared map, fifty percent transparency please.}

What came up was not one subterranean map of Torello but several superimposed ones, each with their own annotations that became readable when she focused her attention upon them.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Wellington's data was based upon optimistic planning applications from architects, dry survey reports from mages and terse accounts of anti-smuggling expeditions scrawled by thick-fingered guardsmen - any in-game document contributed to The Burrow's library by a player whose character had read it.

Tomsk's data came from players broadcasting what their characters were currently seeing, which was especially useful when they looked at their own system-provided orglife map of the character's previous travels. When Kafana focused, she could tell how recently a location had been updated, along with an icon crediting the individual, group or clan responsible for the coverage - the Ghetto area was flooded with the circular Heptagram of Ishtar symbol used by the Chaldeans.

Bungo's data included reports on creatures and other hazards encountered by Dino and the other monks. Bulgaria had contributed data about nests of undead, smuggler rendezvous signals and rumoured secret passages used by courtesans and cultists. While tracing the Acheron's route as it passed under all of Mercato and onto the Arsenal, she spotted a conduit branching north from it towards the Sanctum and noticed there were even areas for which she was the only source - apparently the Royals had been rather grateful to Vessel Kafana for her repeated visits to heal them.

And then there was Alderney's.

It wasn't just a map. It was a work of art. About the only bit still resembling the actual maze of passages she'd arrived through was the topology; in every other way, Alderney had turned her map into a level from a computer game. Each group being evacuated had a chibi icon in a different rainbow colour matching the line marking their planned escape route. There were hidden floor pit traps, collapsing ceiling traps, flood release traps and even two special 'power up' pills labelled "Myrmekes Aurum" and "Nicrophorus Luciferase". There was even an enraged stomping Pazzi level boss at his Palazzo in the top right corner of the map, and each of his patrols were shown as ash-grey ghosts with hollow crimson eye-sockets.

Kafana could hardly believe her own eyes, and her voice held a touch of pleading to it: {Alderney? Why is there a cartoon crow pinching its nose when the ghosts move past it?}

Alderney tried to sound nonchalant: {It's a rook. The Raggedy Man picked a tanner's warehouse as the location to place Wellington's decoy device, and the guards who just raided it must, alas, have accidently got drenched in ammonia during the confusion. Terrible stuff, ammonia. It's hell on tracker dogs, even when diluted with stale urine. Gold ants and Sexton beetles, on the other hand? They go crazy for it!}

Wellington finished detaching his sound board and stored it safely inside his stash, causing the sound of frustrated guards cursing each other to cut off abruptly.

Bungo sounded suspicious, despite Alderney's tone: {How crazy?}

Alderney: {Maybe we'll find out.}

Bungo looked like he wanted to interrogate their diminutive scout further, possibly with the aid of heated pokers and a rack, but at that moment the crowd fell silent, as Madero raised his arms to get their attention and Bulgaria re-joined Kafana beside the stage.

Madero: "That sounded scary, didn't it? My heart nearly gave out when I thought the guards were at our door, and we'd been caught just as quietly as mice that were too foolish to be wary of stalking cats."

He chuckled.

Madero: "Luckily, this time the guards are the ones who got fooled. Thanks to the Raggedy Man, what we just heard was Pazzi's lot breaking into a warehouse a kilometer north of here, getting furious because they found it was empty, then soaking themselves in piss because they took their rage out on some of the barrels stored there."

Kafana could see the panic drain from the people around her. Madero was good at this!

Madero: "But we can't relax just yet. Now they've broken everything there, I'm told the enchantment that was feeding lies to their scrying magic is also gone. It delayed them, but it didn't stop them. So here's what we're going to do to leave here, and to stop them tracking us any further. Bungo, give us a wave."

Bungo produced a square flag on a short pole from his stash and waved it above his head in long sweeps. The top half was blue for Mor, patron deity of crafters; the bottom half was green for Dro, who combined with Mor to symbolise prosperity and creation; a charge embroidered in golden thread over the center of the flag was a pair of dividers with one tip touching the inside angle of a draftswoman's set square. It was obviously Alderney's work, but when had she found the time?

Madero: "Everyone see the tall chap waving our fraternity's flag? Good. He's going to call you over, one group at a time, and send you out through the door with that antler thingy on it. Apparently it will wipe away any magical traces that Pazzi's mages could use to connect you to having been here. I got that right?" He looked at Wellington, and pretended to wipe sweat from his brow when Wellington solemnly nodded.

Madero: "Phew. It's all slushy Scandic to me. Anyway, follow your monk and he'll take you to a workshop in your home parish where it's safe to wait until dawn when the curfew ends. Good luck, and get going!"

Bungo picked the group heading for the Teeter to send off first, which contained several Chartists so old they'd probably spent longer in retirement than some of the others had been alive. A few people weren't part of any of the groups, and Bungo directed them over towards the stage.

Madero: "Oh, yes. If you're from outside the Ghetto, you're welcome to come along with me. Just be warned that I'm going to be the last one to leave."

Despite the calm he was projecting, Kafana couldn't help feeling nervous and kept one eye on the map, where every update now showed the 'ghosts' closing in on Association Hall from all sides. She wasn't the only one. Tomsk was fine; he'd finished his barricade and even set out a row of goblets filled with wine and accompanied by a plate of Kafana's cookies, to help calm down the guard when they did arrive. But the trio who'd helped him were now keeping their own spirits up by boasting to each other about what they'd do to the next member of the city's Watch they saw walking alone through the backstreets.

Madero noticed but, rather than addressing the trio directly, he turned to face Bulgaria before commenting - loudly enough for everyone to overhear his words, while still seeming to be holding a private conversation.

Madero: "My friend, our aim is not to break laws, but to make them. They are fighting to control our movement with physical bows, but don't forget that they are also fighting to control how we are perceived. The less ammunition they get, the easier it will be to persuade them to talk to us instead."

Bulgaria made a creditable attempt at seeming to be an honest craftsman, nearly tugging his forelock as he raised his own voice in response: "So I shouldn't be mean to them, because that makes it easy for Pazzi to tell all the nobles over in Centrale that we're only whining because we're greedy, lazy and wicked? That the Charter should be ignored?"

Madero: "That's right. No jeering, no stealing, no violence at all unless you need it to defend yourself. If anything, go out of your way to be polite and helpful."

Bulgaria: "Oh, I see! Treat them like customers you want to build a good reputation with. I can do that. I'll remember, Captain, I promise."

A few minutes later, when the last group had left and Alderney had returned with Harlequin in tow, she was greeted by the sight of two tall dark-skinned men laughing their heads off while supporting themselves with arms around each other's shoulders - brothers in all but name.

They left the cellar with a good ninety seconds to spare.

Kafana knew this because, even while running down the damp brick tunnel, she'd counted each one under her breath.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.