F-tier Assasin - Chapter 7

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Patreon really shit the bed. It's literally impossible to see anything I'm doing while editing, so if there are formatting errors, then I apologise, but I can't do anything until they resolve whatever bug makes the editing view "black text on dark-grey background". What a ridiculous bug, lol.

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Chapter 7

“Are all entrances to this place guarded by a special handprint?” Ashlan asked, after they’ve moved out of the large chamber and into a series of winding tunnels that smelled musty and rank.

“With a few exceptions, yes.”

So I really won’t have to worry about being chased down here by Trackers or Sentinels. Frelly would freak if she heard about this.

“Can I bring anyone else down here?”

“So long as you do not inadvertently lead them to the Guild. But please, do not spread knowledge of this place around. It will undermine its usage for us and teach our enemies to watch its entrances.”

“Enemies?”

“There is money to be made for the corrupt and evil, and we are the System’s cleaners. Complete enough Contracts, and sooner-or-later you will run into one cabal or another. Even Harmon has made his fair share, despite the fact no one ever sees him coming.”

“An S-tier with a Spotting Skill can probably see him.”

“Fortunately for us, most S-tiers stay on the straight-and-narrow. It is rare one is ever made a target for assassination.”

“Do these ‘enemies’ ever target your families?”

“Of course.”

Ashlan frowned.

I should find a way to disguise myself. My family has no way to protect themselves, and I could even end up bringing trouble to my friends…

“You are thinking about disguises, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Even if you cover your entire face, you have eyes that people will remember.”

“So, my best bet is to not be seen at all.”

“That, or you can do what Anisette does and leave no witnesses at all.”

Ashlan paled slightly.

I knew she was bad news!

“That was a joke, by the way. You would have to be crazy to do what she does at your Rank. Your best bet is to get in and get out without being spotted. You have a stealth-based Skill like Harmon, right? Make good use of it.”

“Thanks, Vagan. That’s good advice.”

“Giving advice is kind of the whole point of my role. Not that anyone else will listen. It is hard to be taken seriously, when they all still remember Victoria.”

“I think if you give it time, they’ll come around.”

The torchlight caught on Vagan’s pearl-white teeth. “You are not a bad kid after all. Though I sure had my doubts when I saw how you behave yourself.”

“I’ll have to get used to utensils.”

“Were you raised in the wild?”

“Northside, but close enough,” he replied.

Vagan made a noise.

Even with no words uttered, Ashlan knew the meaning nonetheless.

“You’re from White Coast, right?”

“How did you guess?”

Ashlan gestured at his clothes. “You dress like that; you care a lot about manners and etiquette; you’ve got the same stiff way of talking as everyone else from that district; and I know there are a few Gravegarden Aristocrats who live there.”

“You have the wrong Profession,” Vagan replied. “There is an Investigator lost in you.”

That was one of the Professions I was hoping for, even if it’d have meant working closely with the Sentinels in Irongate…

The Guild Leader steered them up through a side-corridor to the tunnel they’d been following, and after a couple snaking turns they came out into a massive chamber. There was ankle-high water at the bottom, thick stone pillars holding up the tall ceiling, and a few grates high above that let down golden sunlight. It was impossible to see where the grates led, but Ashlan figured it wouldn’t be somewhere easily accessible to the people above, since otherwise the large chamber and underground tunnel system would not have been kept secret.

I have no idea where we are… My sense of direction has forsaken me.

Where the light touched the pillars and the water below, plants and fungus grew sporadically. The water was possibly formed from accumulated rainfall, but it was clearly unhealthy to consume, based on the colour of it. Although, with the nutrients inside it and the sunlight from above, it seemed a fertile mixture, as evident from the plants.

I’m surprised there are no animals down here though.

“Do not eat those,” Vagan advised, pointing at the mushrooms.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Ashlan replied. “I don’t just eat anything I see.”

“I did not mean to imply that,” he added. “I only mention it because Maggie has a tendency to chomp down on anything potentially poisonous, and, after she tried one of the Foulcaps that grow here, she said it was the most poisonous fungi she had ever encountered. She has been trying to cultivate them in the Guild Arboretum, but to no success.”

Maggie must have some kind of Poison-Eater Skill. Would explain how alcohol doesn’t seem to affect her at all.

“I had no idea she actually took her Assignment seriously,” Ashlan remarked.

“You have the right of it, though I would warn you from speaking ill of other members. But she is indeed lazy and unmotivated, though she cares a lot about her poisons. If she was more dedicated to her Profession, she would become truly fearsome. However, she has no sense of urgency about her tasks and money is not a motivator for her. I do not understand why the System chose her.”

It’s somehow comforting to know that even a small group like ours has that problem.

I was worried they’d all be terrifyingly-competent people I couldn’t possibly keep up with.

It’s easier for me to not stand out when there are less-motivated members around me.

Even if the System seemed to always assign people to Professions that suited them in one way or another, it still could not defeat human tendencies. C-tiers seemed to be hit the hardest, as they were on average better than most, while simultaneously unable to keep up with the rest, resulting in a strange lack of motivation that Ashlan had witnessed many times before. And it was always worse if they grew up rich, since working for financial gain bore little appeal.

D, E, and F-tiers were weaker and couldn’t expect to earn a lot, so there was always an inferiority complex that motivated them, as well as the very basic need to earn enough to survive. Meanwhile, B, A, and S seemed to chase power for its own sake, with B’s and A’s often seeming to express a desire to catch up to the people above.

I’d have been perfectly-content with C-tier, he thought to himself. In any Profession, it would be sufficient to make a respectable living, and in the rare ones it would be more-than-enough.

A C-tier Magical Artificer could earn enough in their lifetime to establish their own dynasty.

Of course, there were unmotivated louts across all Tiers as far as he could tell, but it would be denying reality to not point out that the majority resided in the very middle of the power spectrum.

Vagan clapped his hands, snapping Ashlan out of his thoughts.

“You do that quite a lot,” he told him.

“It’s a curse, really,” Ashlan replied with a grin.

He looked across the chamber. There was a small staircase with wide steps leading down to the water and on the other side was a mirror-image of the landing and stairs. Between the pillars were thick snaking trunks, with roots buried deep inside the stone, as well as some sprouting out from the floor.

“We’re close to the Greenhill exit,” Vagan announced.

That explains the trees, but I wonder where those grates are placed. If only it was possible to see what lay above them, but the sunlight makes that impossible.

“I’d like to go until we hit the exit in Northside.”

Vagan frowned, but seemed to indulge him nevertheless, as he began to descend the stairs.

Ashlan appraised the pillars and the interconnected paths the roots and trunks made between them, not wanting to get his feet wet in the contaminated water. Most of the trees were coiled around each other like a giant’s tangled hair, and the one nearest to him had a branch with a sparse few leaves and a tiny apple dangling from it invitingly.

Probably can’t eat that either, he considered.

Then he took a few steps back, before sprinting across the landing in front of the tunnel mouth and leaping towards the nearest pillar. It was about four metres away, but the tree coiled around it extended out about half a metre and provided excellent handholds.

Vagan stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared up at Ashlan, just as the youth hit the side of the pillar and caught onto the tree.

As he hoisted himself up, the Guild Leader cast him a surprised look.

“I thought you did not have more than one skill.”

His voice echoed through the chamber and Ashlan wondered if it was possible to hear it above ground through the grates.

“I don’t,” he called back. “It’s all practice.”

Vagan shook his head, clearly considering it a waste of time. To Ashlan it just showed that the man had a fundamentally-different idea of what was useful and what wasn’t.

He probably has some pompous way of doing assassinations, he thought to himself, as he strode across the path formed by the coiling trees.

Below him, the fancy Assassin walked through the filthy water in his expensive black leather boots, which seemed to repel every droplet that touched them. His unhurried gait and long strides were intimidating in a way.

There’s a Swordsman lost in him.

Ashlan leapt across a gap between two unconnected pillars, hitting the second pillar’s side and sliding downwards until his hands caught on a thin rope-like root buried within it. He pulled himself across hand-over-hand, until reaching another pillar where the root transitioned into a sturdy trunk he could hoist himself up onto. Then he balance-walked to the pillar across the middle of the chamber, where he could stride along a sturdier network of branches and roots to reach the other side.

“It is like watching a squirrel traversing a tree,” Vagan commented from below.

Ashlan was only about four metres above the water, but he knew it would still suck to fall from this height, so, while he considered retorting, he focused on balancing his way across instead.

They met up by the landing in front of the other tunnel, with Ashlan breathing quickly and Vagan looking in tip-top shape, with not even a speck of water on his boots or pants.

“While flashy and inventive, your acrobatics are a waste of your energy,” the Leader told him.

Must be boring to be such a pragmatic, he retorted in his mind.

After about an hour of moving through more tunnels, they reached another large chamber, but this one was full of water that looked fresh enough to drink, although it lay stagnant in its underground vault. The way their torchlight reflected off its surface created eerie patterns on the walls and ceiling.

The water reached all the way to the top of the stairs on the right of the landing, but there was a simple way to cross the chamber on the left side, where stone steps poked out from the wall. However, the steps were separated by about half-a-metre, thus requiring Ashlan’s full concentration to traverse. Vagan meanwhile made it look no different from his normal walk, as he kept pace with him.

“What’s this place for?” Ashlan asked.

“We are not quite sure, but it seems to be a reservoir to store water for an emergency.”

“Is it safe to drink?”

“Maggie said it was okay,” Vagan replied, “Though when Bjorn tried it, he was sick for three days.”

“Sounds like trusting her word might be harmful,” he considered.

“Healthy scepticism is always good.”

Vagan looked down at the water they were walking above.

“If you feel like you need the exercise, you can swim across instead,” he said, possibly joking.

Ashlan didn’t tell him that he was unable to swim.

Perhaps I should come here to practice sometime?

Although it’s way too deep. I’ll definitely drown if I leave the stairs. And I’d need someone to hold my torch…

When they got to the other side, Ashlan was starting to feel the strain from their journey underground. He couldn’t tell if it was the air or the exhaustion from the day before, but he was glad today was System Day and that there would be no surprise Contracts.

From the water reservoir was a straight-going tunnel that ended in a spiralling staircase. There were no other ways to go but up.

“This is where we say our goodbyes,” Vagan told him.

“If I follow this, I’ll end up in Northside?”

“We are already in Northside, technically.”

“Where exactly is this going to take me?” Ashlan wondered.

“The entrance is embedded in the city wall and I believe it leads out into a narrow alley, although I have not used this pathway before. For obvious reasons.”

For obvious reasons, he says. He should just admit that he doesn’t want to mingle with the poors.

“Thank you for guiding me all this way,” Ashlan said politely.

Vagan nodded. “I unfortunately cannot give you a map of all the entrances, but the easiest ones to locate are: on the fake balcony in Hrothgar’s Place; within the Faraway Markets’ permanent stone stall; and inside the empty well on the shore of White Coast. You will have to explore to find the rest.

“If you are given the option, acquiring Darksight as your first passive Skill might be a good idea.”

“I will definitely do some exploring,” Ashlan replied.

“Make sure to bring food. It is easy to get lost for days at a time down here. The tunnels in Oceanview and the ones to the east are especially labyrinthine.”

“Understood.”

Vagan began to head back the way they’d come, but quickly stopped. “Leave the torch in a holder by the exit.”

“Of course.”

This guy seems very particular about everything, but I suppose it isn’t a bad trait for a Leader.

After Vagan disappeared down the end of the tunnel, Ashlan ascended up the spiralling steps, the clop of his wooden sandals echoing loudly in the confined space. He couldn’t recall just how many steps he’d gone down in Irongate to reach the Guild entrance, but he was certain that he climbed twice as many on the way back up.

Perhaps Eventide isn’t built on a flat foundation, he considered. In a way it made sense that the land the city sat atop was sloping as it moved towards the ocean.

Eventually he reached a short landing at the top, where he had to take a breather. His calves were aching and sore, but there was an undeniable excitement in knowing that he was privy to a secret known only by a select few.

He placed the torch in a holder next to the wall that bore the distinctive handprint.

Still, if this is built directly into the city wall, some High-Ranked Builders must’ve left blueprints or sketches of this entrance. The doorway itself must be an elaborate Artefact, which is sure to have documentation somewhere as well. Even if the construction is hundreds of years old, I’m sure some records have survived. Unless all such documents were intentionally destroyed or kept by the Guild.

Ashlan shook his head. He did find it a bit odd that the ‘Undercity’ was not common knowledge, since a conspiracy of this size would be impossible to keep a lid on.

Unless the System is responsible for the secrecy. Like some kind of enforceable vow of silence.

Probably best not to pry into something like that…

He placed his hand on the engraving, once again feeling that odd sensation of it perfectly embracing him, as though it was carved specifically for his fingers.

There followed no tremors or spectacular noise when the wall unlocked for him, only a little click as some bolt slid away and allowed the wall to spin on its central axis. It made sense that it wouldn’t be something noticeable, as there were High-Ranked lookouts atop the wall, whose supernatural hearing could pick apart individual raindrops from half a district away.

Ashlan pushed his way out through the door, arriving into the shadows between the city wall and an apartment building. The ‘door’ spun slowly until it’d made a full revolution, before another click sounded and it returned to normal. Left behind was just a single engraving of a hand, though anyone who found it in this place would probably just assume that a Builder from the time of Eventide’s founding wanted to leave a permanent mark.

It's impossible to tell that this part of the wall is any different from the rest.

Whoever made it was a true master of their craft.

He looked up at the city wall. It rose higher than any other building in Northside, which was saying a lot, since the apartment blocks reached nine stories in some parts.

I probably shouldn’t use this entrance too often, since I’m sure hearing two consecutive clicks from this place repeatedly will make some overzealous lookout curious enough to investigate.

I’d best get a move on. Frelly is going to beat me up if I leave her hanging for any longer…

The calming feeling of Lurk washed over him and he started following the wall towards the nearest break in the apartment block, where he could start heading further into Northside and figure out where he was.

Only twenty minutes later, with the sun directly overhead of him, Ashlan arrived in front of the building where he rented an apartment. The air was dusty like usual and there was the ever-present ‘stink’, which was like a mix of offal and excrement rolled in mud. Even as someone born and raised in Northside, it was impossible to disregard it.

The sight of the block always made him question why he paid forty Silvers a week to live here. It was a rundown and frankly dangerous place to live in, with every few weeks seeing parts of the building crumbling and falling down into the alleyways and courtyard below, as well as thugs hanging around the place either to rob you or get back money they’d ‘invested’.

Gainful employment of E-tier warrior Assignments in actual practice…

To a D or C-tier with a ‘peaceful’ Profession, a combat-oriented E-tier could be frightening, since they gained Skills that boosted their offensive capabilities, which most people had no possible way to defend against. After all, very few Seamsters, Carpenters, Gardeners, and such realised their Skills could be twisted to work against other people.

With the sun at its zenith, shadows were few and far between, and the street was relatively-empty since most people were relaxing today, which left no ways for him to blend in with his Skill. Though Ashlan figured there was no reason to really hide, so he walked up to the front of his building and went in through the open door.

I didn’t see Frelly anywhere, but I’m sure one of her mentees is keeping an eye on my building. She’ll be by my window before I can even shut the door behind me.

Unlike his parents’ apartment, Ashlan’s was on the first floor, although it was a third the size of theirs. Still, ground-floor apartments were always getting broken into, and his parents’ place was no different.

He felt Lurk activate from the lightless interior of the lobby and silently passed by the cage-like ‘reception’ counter within which snored James the Landlord. The rusted iron bars were less to keep him in and more to keep people out, as he stored much of his rent-money and repossessed items within.

His D-tier Brawler, ‘Dogface’, leaned against a crumbly stone pillar by the stairwell, but didn’t notice Ashlan passing by him. He wore his usual dark shorts and white stain-covered vest, displaying his tan skin full of old white scars. He was a lazy bastard whose existence seemed to focus solely on threatening the poor sods, who’d been unfortunate enough to have picked this building to live in. His nose was still bent in the wrong way from when Tommy had knocked his lights out for harassing his mother.

I hope he didn’t get in trouble with the Sentinels yesterday…

After reaching the first floor, Ashlan spotted one of the building’s many rats gorging itself on trash carelessly left in front of one of the apartments. James always insisted that there were no rats to speak of, but, thanks to his Lurk ability, Ashlan was able to walk close enough to the pest to nudge it with his boot before it noticed him.

With a squeal, it hopped away from its meal and disappeared into a hole in one of the wooden walls.

What a dump this place is… he thought to himself, not for the first time.

He passed by three more doors before reaching ‘117’ where he lived. There were some new scratches on the door that hadn’t been there yesterday morning and the lock was different.

“Son of a…”

Ashlan bent down and pulled off the back of his right sandal, retrieving his key from the hidden compartment. The first thing he’d done after moving in was to replace the lock, since he had a sneaking suspicion that either James or Dogface entered people’s apartments when they weren’t home.

Before even pushing the key all the way in, he knew it wouldn’t fit. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, before considering how else to get in.

That lock cost me twenty-five Silvers, damn it…

Wait, I think I remember Luthe saying something about a common way to open these locks.

Luthe was the resident Unassignable Lock-Picker. As far as Ashlan was concerned, there was no lock that was safe from his magical hands.

He loosened his shoulders and then tried to recall exactly how he’d seen the guy do the trick before. It had something to do with pulling the door towards himself, plunging the handle down just below half-way, and then slamming the door forward.

Ashlan frowned. Dogface would definitely hear the sound and come looking.

Screw them. I want my stuff back.

He pulled on the handle, while plunging it down just to the point where it made a faint click, then slammed it forward, somehow opening the door as a result. He quickly entered and tried to close it behind himself, but then saw that the locking-bolt was somehow still engaged.

If I slam it closed, I’ll trap myself in here…

He looked around his apartment. Light came through the window, illuminating the dust in the air and the stripped-out interior. There were new scratches and boot-marks that hadn’t been there before. He saw the signs of at least two people working together to repossess his belongings.

The bars on the window had been screwed back on, preventing him from going in-or-out that way. It had been his usual escape route whenever trouble came calling, but the Landlord had shored that up in a hurry.

Both the thin mattress and the blanket he had used as a cover were gone, as was his bean-stuffed pillow, leaving behind just the rickety bed frame. The dresser and cupboard were likewise empty, not that he’d had much in there.

These bastards were thorough.

The thought made him worried and he pushed the bedframe aside, before lifting up a loose floorboard to reveal the hidden compartment below.

It was empty.

There were a hundred-and-eleven Silvers in there…

“You’re late,” said a voice from the window.

Ashlan jumped upright, only to find Frelly hanging onto the bars outside.

“Let me in.”

“Can’t. Bastards changed the lock and screwed the bars on tight. They took my money and all my stuff…”

“I’ll get Tommy,” she said and disappeared.

A second later Dogface arrived in the doorway.

“James wants yer out.”

“Clearly,” Ashlan replied. “Give me my things back, then I’ll leave.”

I ought to take out my Spearhead Dagger and add another scar to his ugly mug.

The Brawler earnt his name from his unfortunate face, which had seen many fights, most of which he’d clearly lost. He was missing several teeth and always huffed loudly because his nose was so crooked that it was no good for breathing anymore.

“James’s keeping it.”

“Like hell he isn’t,” Ashlan shot back.

“What yer gonna do ‘bout it?”

Ashlan took a step back, retreating into the corner of the room where the sunlight couldn’t reach him, before activating Lurk.

Dogface huffed in surprise, then entered the room. “What’d yer do?”

He looked around in confusion, before walking towards the corner, just in time to catch Ashlan’s foot directly into his nether region.

The Brawler immediately sank to the floor with a tiny whine and he jumped over him, before running to the door and slamming it closed, re-engaging the lock.

He spun around just in time for Frelly to peck him in the forehead with her index finger.

“Why’d you leave me hanging, Squirrel?”

She’s still using that nickname, that’s a good sign. I think.

“I had to go to the heart of Irongate to find the Guild, and then they let me stay overnight.”

“Sounds real fun.” She looked down at his belt bag. “Is my part of the reward in there?”

Ashlan knew there was no way she’d let him get away with not paying her. Then he saw her face and the black eye. He couldn’t help but cringe in guilt.

“Did the Tracker do that?”

“She was a real piece of work. She went crazy when she realised we tricked her.”

“I’ll pay you,” Ashlan said. “You can have the money I had in my apartment. It was over a hundred Silvers.”

She reached out palm-first. “Thank you and please.”

“I don’t have it on me,” he said, just as the worthless Brawler started banging on the door from the inside of ‘117’.

“Did you trap Dogface in there?”

“Also kicked him in the nuts as hard as a could.”

Frelly grinned. “So, where’s my money?”

“Guessing James has it in his little fortress.”

“Has probably more than just your money,” she said, clearly thinking big.

Heavy steps came from the nearby stairs as Tommy descended down to meet them.

How the hell did Frelly get here that quickly? Ashlan suddenly wondered, as she realised she’d gone up to the fourth floor where Tommy and his mother lived, then come back down and inside before Ashlan could even leave the apartment.

“Hey Ash.”

“Sorry about yesterday,” he replied, as a way of greeting. “Did the Sentinels catch you.”

“Nah, slow as always, those guys. It was no sweat, really.”

“Come on, you two, we’re getting my money back.”

“And my clothes,” Ashlan added.

“I think I saw those in the courtyard this morning,” Tommy said. “Along with a blanket and a pillow. It’s all gone now though.”

“Motherfuckers…” Ashlan cursed.

“Time to teach James a little about consequences,” Frelly said with a grin.

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