It's finally here! Part five of Below, and hopefully part six will be up soon and I'll resume a more normal posting schedule. Enjoy.
Viewer discretion advised. If you are easily disturbed, find yourself easily triggered by reading about depression, suicides, or disturbing imagery, I would advise you to skip over this story and wait for a different story, as Below contains material that some may find disturbing or may cause relapses into self-destructive habits.
Daelin had sat down with his back against the wall behind him. He was tired and angry. "Better rest up," Vlad said striding over to an old couch "we've got a long day ahead of us. You'll want to be as alert as possible come morning." With that he sprawled out on the decrepit old couch and slowly drifted off to sleep. Daelin simply sat and stared off into the darkness, he thought about what Vlad had said and what he had seen. His mind was still racing trying to figure out just what was what and why when he fell asleep.
~~~~
Aela awoke in what she assumed was the next morning. Everything was dark as her eyes slowly adjusted to the world around her, slowly she realized that there was a pale bluish glow outside the darkened house. She slowly slid her legs off the side of the rotting old couch feeling stiff and greasy. Her mouth tasted stale and she swallowed a few times to moisten her throat. Standing up she realized her arm felt heavy and suddenly the events of the night before came rushing back to her, she slumped back onto the couch and held up the shackle so that she could look at it. The spike was hammered down until it was near flush with the rest of the band. She remembered the vibrations of each strike sending bolts of sharp pain through her body, now the shackle was firmly locked onto her wrist and did not so much as move hardly at all. She dropped her arm into her lap and stared off into the darkness fighting back the overwhelming sinking feeling in her chest and with a deep breath she leaned over and pulled the package she had received the previous night in front of her.
Viewer discretion advised. If you are easily disturbed, find yourself easily triggered by reading about depression, suicides, or disturbing imagery, I would advise you to skip over this story and wait for a different story, as Below contains material that some may find disturbing or may cause relapses into self-destructive habits.
Daelin had sat down with his back against the wall behind him. He was tired and angry. "Better rest up," Vlad said striding over to an old couch "we've got a long day ahead of us. You'll want to be as alert as possible come morning." With that he sprawled out on the decrepit old couch and slowly drifted off to sleep. Daelin simply sat and stared off into the darkness, he thought about what Vlad had said and what he had seen. His mind was still racing trying to figure out just what was what and why when he fell asleep.
~~~~
Aela awoke in what she assumed was the next morning. Everything was dark as her eyes slowly adjusted to the world around her, slowly she realized that there was a pale bluish glow outside the darkened house. She slowly slid her legs off the side of the rotting old couch feeling stiff and greasy. Her mouth tasted stale and she swallowed a few times to moisten her throat. Standing up she realized her arm felt heavy and suddenly the events of the night before came rushing back to her, she slumped back onto the couch and held up the shackle so that she could look at it. The spike was hammered down until it was near flush with the rest of the band. She remembered the vibrations of each strike sending bolts of sharp pain through her body, now the shackle was firmly locked onto her wrist and did not so much as move hardly at all. She dropped her arm into her lap and stared off into the darkness fighting back the overwhelming sinking feeling in her chest and with a deep breath she leaned over and pulled the package she had received the previous night in front of her.
It was a simple package of brown butcher paper with a string of twine tied around it holding it closed. She undid the loose knot and pulled back the paper to find a worn looking overcoat along with a second set of grey-brown pants and a shirt. The clothes were nearly identical to the ones she currently wore, although they were much cleaner. Looking around she realized the old drunk was still fast asleep so she changed out of her muddied pants and bloodied shirt into this fresh pair. The overcoat was thick and obviously made for a man with a larger frame than she, however it did not wreak of the holding cells. It was old not only in design, which was a design she recognized from paintings she has seen depicting militiaman during the great civil war, but it also smelled somewhat musty as if it had been sitting in a chest somewhere for over a decade. The material was worn but it was in good repair for a garment of it's age with very few holes and when she pulled the over sized coat onto her tiny frame she felt warm and much more secure than she previously had. After wrapping her other clothes in the butcher paper and tucking them under her sofa bed along with her blanket Aela quietly slipped out of the decaying old building.
The world outside was bathed in a peculiar blue light that by comparison to the darkness of the house was quite bright. Craning her neck to see where this light coming from Aela could see hundred of small blue and purple stars above her. Her brow furrowed upon seeing this, for how could there be stars on the underside of the wooden boardwalk? Surely this had to be some sort of illusion, she thought. Perhaps the early morning sunlight was simply finding it's way down to her through tiny holes and cracks that from down here made it look as though she was looking at a vast night sky. Her neck began to cramp from looking up though so Aela decided it was best not to question the means by which she was allowed to see in this new world, and sticking her hands in the extra-large pockets of her new coat she began to walk down the damp and deserted street towards the heart of the prison. She took care to stay on the same road and keep track of various land marks so she would not lose herself in the dark. She did not have to walk long before she began to see other people, all walking in similarly old clothes with their eyes down. She considered asking one of them where she might find something to eat, however once she saw their unnaturally pale skin and scarred faces she decided it would be better to keep to herself and act as if she knew exactly where she was going just as if she had always lived down in the dark.
She did not notice the hooded figure trailing her from the crumbling rooftops of old churches, houses, and shops as she made her way deeper into the city/prison. In many of the buildings around her now there were lighted windows and the sound of low conversation could be heard as more and more people filled the streets. After walking for close to ten minutes she came upon what was easily recognizable as an old tavern. The building appeared to have been converted and renovated from an old Elvish church with it's characteristic dual spires, although one of them had half crumbled the other now held a room from which smoke could be seen lazily drifting out from behind it's colorfully curtained windows. A sign hung above the double doors that read The Preachers Palace and music along with the occasional burst of laughter could be heard from inside.
The air of The Preachers Palace was warm and smelled of smoke and ale. The pulpit of the church had been removed and replaced with a large round bar behind which an unnaturally skinny man with glasses and black slicked back hair stood leaning back on the shelves of bottles looking out over his congregation of ruffians, scoundrels, and drunks. Many of the pews which appeared oddly small for a church of this size, had been pulled out of the ground and turned around to face the row directly behind them. Tables of various makes, shapes, and sizes were placed in between these pews forming little booths that the patrons could sit in with a minimal amount of privacy. Only a handful of booths held bar patrons, and most of them appeared to have spent the night in the tavern, with disheveled hair and sleepy eyes. On one side of the room stood a door that was boarded up, presumably leading to the crumbled tower above, for directly across the room on the opposite side a similar door stood open with a translucent purple curtain draped across the doorway casting a small pool of purple light in front of it. The tower, Aela assumed, was now used most likely for the smoking of Dragroot, Pipe-Weed, and other activities. To the left of the bar remained the choir platform from which a lone dark-elf man played a soft, almost mournful tune on some foreign stringed instrument that appeared as if it had been waterlogged at one point in time before being dried out over a fire for too long where it had begun to singe and smolder. The song was in the tongue of the dark-elves and Aela could not understand a single word, although she assumed neither could anyone else save the singer. Regardless she found his low voice to be comforting and took a seat at the bar.
"Well well," Said the barkeep after she had taken her seat on a rickety old stool. "I dare say you're new here." His voice made Aela uneasy and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze, as if he were peering straight through her heavy over coat. "What are ya in for?" he smiled and leaned forward making her all the more uncomfortable, she ducked her eyes away from his sunken gaze toward the curtained doorway on her right where some sort of robed mercenary was just stumbling down the stairs through the doorway. "I'd rather not say." she replied softly. The gaunt barkeep straightened at this and then said "Well in that case, what can Father Roe do for you my lovely daughter?" Again he smiled exposing over sized teeth that were stained an odd green color. "What?" she said taken off guard being claimed as this strangers daughter. Father Roe sighed and said "All who enter my palace are accepted into my flock as sons and daughters. Now, what is it you came to see me about?" "I just need something to eat." She said. "You wouldn't happen to have some form of... payment, would you?"Aela tensed at the way Father Roe asked this and stammered out nervously "No. I- I just got here last night." She rubbed her shackled arm anxiously waiting for his reply. He stood silent for a moment then smiled broadly "Why that will be no problem dear daughter. For what is a preacher if he is without charity? Although I recommend you find yourself some work, because you can't go living off charity forever." He stepped back and filled a bowl with some stew and put it on a plate with a slice of thick bread. "And where might I find work down here?" she asked remaining as calm as she could hoping her voice would not betray her. Father Roe placed the small meal in front of her followed by a tankard of frothy drink. She reached for the drink realizing how thirsty she was as he replied. "Well I might suggest..." He paused looking at her arm. Her sleeve had slid back slightly to reveal part of the shackle. "Ahh... So you're from the boardwalk? Well I think you would do well to mind who sees that band there." Hastily she pulled her hand back and covered it with the coat sleeve once more as he went on. "I hear tell that those who wear the band are being targeted by some radical group called the reavers or reapers or something like that. That band is supposed to place you under protection of the watch and not even the Thieves Guild dared hurt a person wearing one."
"Why's that?" she asked. This was the first she had ever heard of this, in fact the previous night she had no clue why she had been singled out for this treatment. "Under threat of death of course by the warden himself. You see, that band they stuck to you marks you for protection by the Dagorath council and the warden issued a statement a long time ago when the bands were first used that said if anyone who had been given one of those shackles was ever killed the watch would come down here with swords drawn and torches blazing and they'd start burning houses and intimidating everyone until the killer was found." Aela listened to Father Roe wide eyed as she slowly munched on her food trying to take in every detail of what this mark meant for her.
"Now I'm not sure all of that is true, most likely an exaggeration of the original decree. Nonetheless no one in their right mind ever touched someone once they saw the shackle. There were some who would remove the shackle by force from its wearer and wear it themselves hoping to find some safety down here, but the watch always seemed to find out some how. Rumor has it they've got mages who enchant the bands so that the warden always knows where the wearers are and is alerted when the band is removed. Which would of course explain the detachments of guards we see down here from time to time searching for someone they've been told removed a shackle from its wearer."
Aela swallowed the last of her bread then asked "But why start attacking people who are marked if the consequences have been made clear?"
Father Roe paused for a moment before saying in a hushed tone as if nervous someone might hear "Well that's just it, these stories of attacks are all just rumors. Did you hear about the hangings a while back?" She nodded "Well the prevailing rumor is that the bodies were hung there to send some sort of message to the warden and the council. Some say it was some new religious cult, some say the Thieves Guild or some replacement although I had thought them destroyed. Wouldn't be the first time they disappeared for a long time letting us drop our guard and feel just a little safer before coming back full force though." He cleared his throat then continued "I digress. The point is no one seems to know who killed the couple or for what purpose. All anyone can agree on is that things are getting unstable in Dagorath and something big is on its way. I've felt it in the air. When I kneel myself down to commune with the divines I feel it. There are forces at work here that are more powerful than any guild we've ever seen. Maybe even... Supernatural." He whispered the last word out in a near hiss that chilled Aela and caused her to look back over her shoulder at the dim tavern to see that many of the patrons had changed. In a back corner someone caught her eye, a man was sitting in a booth near motionless as if he were passed out. She recognized him as the mercenary that had stumbled out of the tower earlier. Although he seemed to be passed out she felt as if he were watching her from under his deep hood and she turned back to Father Roe slowly feeling more uneasy than she had before. Seeing the look in her eyes Father Roe said "Now before you go let me tell you one last thing." She simply stared at him as he went on in his hushed tone. "A while back I had a man come in here, he was quite and nervous. Looked like he'd just seen a ghost. A few drinks later his lips loosened up a bit and in an unofficial confession he told me he had just come from where those two kids were hanged. He said it wasn't a murder, said he saw them climb up the rafters with the rope and jump off together hand in hand. But at that last second, just before they jumped to their death, he swore on his life he had seen two figures appear behind them and give a great big shove before disappearing. He swears they were ghosts, but who knows. He did smell of dragroot after all, so maybe he did not see what he thought he saw..." Father Roe stood up and took Aelas now empty dishes from her and smiled, only setting her more on edge. "Take care you. And about finding work, I'd go to the docks they're always looking for help and it's safer on the river than in a tavern." With that he turned and began cleaning her used dishes humming to himself.
Aela left The Preachers Palace as quickly as she could and headed towards the docks looking over her shoulder the whole way. What Father Roe had said filled Aela with an almost unnatural dread that only increased as she thought more about it. It was as if every shadow held some dark figure waiting to lead her up into the rafters and shove her off into the darkness below.
The air of The Preachers Palace was warm and smelled of smoke and ale. The pulpit of the church had been removed and replaced with a large round bar behind which an unnaturally skinny man with glasses and black slicked back hair stood leaning back on the shelves of bottles looking out over his congregation of ruffians, scoundrels, and drunks. Many of the pews which appeared oddly small for a church of this size, had been pulled out of the ground and turned around to face the row directly behind them. Tables of various makes, shapes, and sizes were placed in between these pews forming little booths that the patrons could sit in with a minimal amount of privacy. Only a handful of booths held bar patrons, and most of them appeared to have spent the night in the tavern, with disheveled hair and sleepy eyes. On one side of the room stood a door that was boarded up, presumably leading to the crumbled tower above, for directly across the room on the opposite side a similar door stood open with a translucent purple curtain draped across the doorway casting a small pool of purple light in front of it. The tower, Aela assumed, was now used most likely for the smoking of Dragroot, Pipe-Weed, and other activities. To the left of the bar remained the choir platform from which a lone dark-elf man played a soft, almost mournful tune on some foreign stringed instrument that appeared as if it had been waterlogged at one point in time before being dried out over a fire for too long where it had begun to singe and smolder. The song was in the tongue of the dark-elves and Aela could not understand a single word, although she assumed neither could anyone else save the singer. Regardless she found his low voice to be comforting and took a seat at the bar.
"Well well," Said the barkeep after she had taken her seat on a rickety old stool. "I dare say you're new here." His voice made Aela uneasy and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze, as if he were peering straight through her heavy over coat. "What are ya in for?" he smiled and leaned forward making her all the more uncomfortable, she ducked her eyes away from his sunken gaze toward the curtained doorway on her right where some sort of robed mercenary was just stumbling down the stairs through the doorway. "I'd rather not say." she replied softly. The gaunt barkeep straightened at this and then said "Well in that case, what can Father Roe do for you my lovely daughter?" Again he smiled exposing over sized teeth that were stained an odd green color. "What?" she said taken off guard being claimed as this strangers daughter. Father Roe sighed and said "All who enter my palace are accepted into my flock as sons and daughters. Now, what is it you came to see me about?" "I just need something to eat." She said. "You wouldn't happen to have some form of... payment, would you?"Aela tensed at the way Father Roe asked this and stammered out nervously "No. I- I just got here last night." She rubbed her shackled arm anxiously waiting for his reply. He stood silent for a moment then smiled broadly "Why that will be no problem dear daughter. For what is a preacher if he is without charity? Although I recommend you find yourself some work, because you can't go living off charity forever." He stepped back and filled a bowl with some stew and put it on a plate with a slice of thick bread. "And where might I find work down here?" she asked remaining as calm as she could hoping her voice would not betray her. Father Roe placed the small meal in front of her followed by a tankard of frothy drink. She reached for the drink realizing how thirsty she was as he replied. "Well I might suggest..." He paused looking at her arm. Her sleeve had slid back slightly to reveal part of the shackle. "Ahh... So you're from the boardwalk? Well I think you would do well to mind who sees that band there." Hastily she pulled her hand back and covered it with the coat sleeve once more as he went on. "I hear tell that those who wear the band are being targeted by some radical group called the reavers or reapers or something like that. That band is supposed to place you under protection of the watch and not even the Thieves Guild dared hurt a person wearing one."
"Why's that?" she asked. This was the first she had ever heard of this, in fact the previous night she had no clue why she had been singled out for this treatment. "Under threat of death of course by the warden himself. You see, that band they stuck to you marks you for protection by the Dagorath council and the warden issued a statement a long time ago when the bands were first used that said if anyone who had been given one of those shackles was ever killed the watch would come down here with swords drawn and torches blazing and they'd start burning houses and intimidating everyone until the killer was found." Aela listened to Father Roe wide eyed as she slowly munched on her food trying to take in every detail of what this mark meant for her.
"Now I'm not sure all of that is true, most likely an exaggeration of the original decree. Nonetheless no one in their right mind ever touched someone once they saw the shackle. There were some who would remove the shackle by force from its wearer and wear it themselves hoping to find some safety down here, but the watch always seemed to find out some how. Rumor has it they've got mages who enchant the bands so that the warden always knows where the wearers are and is alerted when the band is removed. Which would of course explain the detachments of guards we see down here from time to time searching for someone they've been told removed a shackle from its wearer."
Aela swallowed the last of her bread then asked "But why start attacking people who are marked if the consequences have been made clear?"
Father Roe paused for a moment before saying in a hushed tone as if nervous someone might hear "Well that's just it, these stories of attacks are all just rumors. Did you hear about the hangings a while back?" She nodded "Well the prevailing rumor is that the bodies were hung there to send some sort of message to the warden and the council. Some say it was some new religious cult, some say the Thieves Guild or some replacement although I had thought them destroyed. Wouldn't be the first time they disappeared for a long time letting us drop our guard and feel just a little safer before coming back full force though." He cleared his throat then continued "I digress. The point is no one seems to know who killed the couple or for what purpose. All anyone can agree on is that things are getting unstable in Dagorath and something big is on its way. I've felt it in the air. When I kneel myself down to commune with the divines I feel it. There are forces at work here that are more powerful than any guild we've ever seen. Maybe even... Supernatural." He whispered the last word out in a near hiss that chilled Aela and caused her to look back over her shoulder at the dim tavern to see that many of the patrons had changed. In a back corner someone caught her eye, a man was sitting in a booth near motionless as if he were passed out. She recognized him as the mercenary that had stumbled out of the tower earlier. Although he seemed to be passed out she felt as if he were watching her from under his deep hood and she turned back to Father Roe slowly feeling more uneasy than she had before. Seeing the look in her eyes Father Roe said "Now before you go let me tell you one last thing." She simply stared at him as he went on in his hushed tone. "A while back I had a man come in here, he was quite and nervous. Looked like he'd just seen a ghost. A few drinks later his lips loosened up a bit and in an unofficial confession he told me he had just come from where those two kids were hanged. He said it wasn't a murder, said he saw them climb up the rafters with the rope and jump off together hand in hand. But at that last second, just before they jumped to their death, he swore on his life he had seen two figures appear behind them and give a great big shove before disappearing. He swears they were ghosts, but who knows. He did smell of dragroot after all, so maybe he did not see what he thought he saw..." Father Roe stood up and took Aelas now empty dishes from her and smiled, only setting her more on edge. "Take care you. And about finding work, I'd go to the docks they're always looking for help and it's safer on the river than in a tavern." With that he turned and began cleaning her used dishes humming to himself.
Aela left The Preachers Palace as quickly as she could and headed towards the docks looking over her shoulder the whole way. What Father Roe had said filled Aela with an almost unnatural dread that only increased as she thought more about it. It was as if every shadow held some dark figure waiting to lead her up into the rafters and shove her off into the darkness below.
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