7 (II) Strangers

7 (II)

Strangers

The sudden crackle of noise made Shiv scramble back. He looked around for any attackers, only to discover that the sound was coming from a broach on the dead girl’s collar. He narrowed his eyes as he studied it for a moment. Was this some kind of magical communication device? Strange. He knew the automata were capable of talking to each other over long distances thanks to their “netspeak.” They were the main way the republic’s many towns and cities communicated.

Aside from that, Mind Mages were used as messengers sometimes, but they were pretty heavily controlled by the council and had to bear Monitoring Curses to even exist in the republic. No one trusted a Mind Mage. Not even other Mind Mages.

Meanwhile, this girl had some kind of jewelry-sized communicator here. It was really impressive.

“Myrr? Please, talk to me… Please…”

Shiv licked his exceptionally dry lips. What should he do? He didn’t know who she was—for all he knew, she could be among the Necrotechs. But according to the stories, the Necrotechs were mostly monsters and Necromancers. They were an empire of horrible nightmare-people who did nightmare things with their nightmare Paths.

There was a distinct lack of anything nightmarish about this girl. In fact, she looked like she met a bad end at the hands of the nightmares.

Right then, he had a choice: He could either err on the side of extreme caution, loot the girl, and move on. But that led to the next problem: Where was he going? What was the way out? He’d been down here for hours, and he was still more lost than ever. If he kept going, he would eventually die of dehydration or starvation at some point. Who knew when that might be, considering his Physicality, but still, he was going blind.

As for the risks of talking to these people… Worst case scenario, he encountered the raven again and then got captured or something. Maybe held in stasis while the Necromancers poked at his soul. Pretty ugly, but he might end up there either way if he wandered into an ambush or something. He didn’t think his Stealth Skill was nearly good enough to avoid the notice of someone with an Initiate Awareness Skill.

I do have the kitchen knife bound to my right hand, Shiv thought. He looked at his blade. So long as he had that, he had a means of killing himself and maybe escaping.

Frankly, everything he did was a risk. He was ignorant, blind, and lost in the Abyss.

So, Shiv did the only thing that could add a little more certainty to his situation. He spoke to the dead girl’s broach. “Sorry. I don’t think she made it. Lesser vampires got her.”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Shiv wondered for a moment if he did something wrong. Maybe he needed to press something or equip the brooch somehow?

“Lesser… vampires?” The speaker sounded confused. They also sounded like they were about to start crying.

“Yeah,” Shiv said, wondering how best to make them feel better. “I killed the monsters, so… she’s avenged, if that means something to you. They infected her, and she opened her own throat to stop herself from turning.”

Another long pause followed. “I see… And… who are you?”

Shiv blinked. “I’m, uh… I’m Shiv…”

“Who are you with?” The speaker asked.

Shiv frowned. They were about as suspicious of him as he was of them. “No one. I’m on my own. I’m with no one.” He tried to think of something to tell them that would reveal he was from the surface. “I took a bad fall from higher up. I woke up down here.”

“Oh. You’re very lucky to be alive, Penumbral.”

Penumbral? Shiv stifled a sigh. What in the Broken Moon was that? “Uh, yeah. Very lucky.”

“You’re also lucky that you have defended the honor of my broodsister, for if you did not, I would have slain you for laying your unworthy eyes on her body.”

And now Shiv failed to stifle a deep sigh. He fell from Blackedge to the depths of the Abyss only to discover that as the sky was filled with assholes above, so too was the darkness filled with jackasses below.

I’m going to throttle some of these felling bastards as soon as I can, Shiv promised himself. People need to stop treating me like shit.

“Yeah, sure,” Shiv replied finally, unable to keep the disdain out of his voice. “Listen, what do you want me to do with her body? She’s just lying here and—”

“Do not touch her!”

“F-for breeding?” Shiv repeated, unsure if he heard that right. He’d been threatened and insulted a lot of ways in his life, but not like this. Especially not by someone who sounded like a woman.

Maybe they have some kind of… anti-sex skill. Is that a thing?

“Yes. Now do not touch her and wait, or we will discover the true fertility of your flesh.”

“My flesh?” Shiv was the most confused he’d ever been. Did things work differently in the Abyss? Could men get pregnant down here? Was that how things worked?

Part of him wanted to run for his life. A small part was curious about this whole breeding punishment thing, and wanted to prod the dead girl’s corpse so he could find out how bad it was—and if he could get a skill out of it. His increasingly dubious instincts left him in place, staring awkwardly at the surrounding bodies. He grunted as he decided to pile the lesser vampires. He also considered wrapping his face and pretending he had a head injury to hide his obvious surfacer appearance.

He thought he was pale. He was wrong. Shiv might as well have been beige next to the dead girl.

They came with no more than a rustle in the air. Shiv blinked as he found a knife against his throat. He didn’t hear them at all—he didn’t even see them.

“The weapons you carry. Lose them.” The one he spoke to earlier was right behind him. And he had a feeling she wasn’t alone. He considered finding out if her blade could actually cut his throat, but he decided to play along for a moment. Mainly because of the breeding threats.

Shiv chucked a few of his teeth daggers. He held up his kitchen knife. “This one’s bound.”

“Then unequip it and drop it on the—what even is that?” the speaker sputtered incredulously.

“It’s a chef’s knife,” Shiv muttered, feeling somewhat offended. He thought it was a pretty good chef’s knife. “I got it from my mentor, and it means a lot to me.”

“Are you—Wait…” A sudden shove sent him stumbling forward, and he turned to see four figures standing before him. All of them were slightly taller than he was—which he wasn’t used to. The other part that he wasn’t used to was the fact they were all female. Except for maybe the fourth person at the back of the group. Shiv couldn’t tell with that one.

They all resembled the dead girl to some extent. Pointed ears, black-pearl eyes, pale skin, leather armor with spider-lady on the shoulder.

But while he regarded them with curiosity, they gawked at him with stunned disbelief.

“I… you…” The speaker pointed a spear at him, her hand shaking. “You’re not a Penumbral, you’re—you’re a surfacer!”

“Light-touched!” another of the strange elves muttered, and made a gesture Shiv struggled to follow. Probably High Initiate if judged by her Reflexes.

“Yeah. Hi. I’m Shiv. I found your sister. I killed the lesser vampires.” He shrugged. “Can you stop pointing that spear at me? I’m not hostile.”

“How did you even get here?” the speaker muttered. She was eyeing him like he was some kind of exotic creature.

“I fell.”

“You fell?”

“Yeah?”

“From where?”

“The surface.” Technically, it was higher, but he didn’t need to be that detailed.

“The—what?” She looked at the others, and a scowl appeared on her face. “You lie!”

“Why would I?”

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“I—you—” She stared at him, and her eyes flashed with a spark of what he recognized to be mana. She was Analyzing him. “Deathless? What manner of Path is that?”

“The kind that helps with falling,” Shiv answered. It was half a lie. It didn’t help with the fall, but it helped with making the sudden stop not permanent. “Listen: I took a very bad tumble after a very stressful day, and I came upon your sister by chance. I killed the lesser vampires because they had it coming, and right now, I’d like some directions out of here. That’s my deal.”

“Sister, we do not have time for this,” another of the elves said with an urgent undertone. This one seemed like the second of the group, and she held a shortbow of some kind—but Shiv found himself eyeing her daggers. Those looked nice. He could use an upgrade from his kitchen knife and teeth, though he'd obviously keep the former. “We should deal with this one and move on. We have lost too much already. The Order is nearby. The dagger must be delivered at haste!”

And, like a dog hearing something about food, Shiv’s attention snapped to full alertness. “Dagger?”

“It does not concern you, surfacer,” the speaker spat. “You should—”

“Can I see the dagger? I like daggers. I know a few things about daggers—”

“No! No, you cannot see the Cage of Valor Thann!”

Shiv cocked his head. Valor Thann? Cage? Sounded like a strange name for a dagger. Shiv really wanted to see this dagger now. “I’ll let you see my kitchen knife.”

“You—” The elf shook her hands at the ceiling as if beseeching some unseen deity. “I don’t care about your pathetic kitchen knife.”

A flare of rage passed through Shiv. “It’s not pathetic. It fixes itself, it sharpens itself, and it cuts everything from fish, meat, potatoes, to the flesh of Adept.”

The elves drew their weapons, and pure aggression radiated from their postures. “Was that a threat?” the speaker growled.

“No. I’m literally just recounting the things it cut. I was surprised it bled the Adept, actually. Really surprised me.”

The elves looked at him and gazed at each other. The speaker’s second in command leaned in. “I think the fall damaged this one’s head. They might be a bit wrong up there.”

“Why are you whispering right in front of me? Also, why are you all behaving like assholes? We just met. I saved your sister’s body from these vampires—they were tearing her apart, I tell you about it, and now you just keep insulting me. I’m tired of it.” Shiv let out a ragged breath as he finished his outburst. “Tired of this. I regret replying to you people. I should’ve just kept wandering the darkness alone. At least the monsters didn’t insult me before trying to kill me.”

The elves were staring at him again. The speaker’s mouth opened and closed several times before she scoffed. “Utti. Go… Go secure Myrr’s body. We shouldn’t… We shouldn’t leave her here.”

The second nodded. “Yes, mistress.”

Shiv watched as the elf knelt by her sister’s body and muttered something. “Yeah. Sorry about her.”

The speaker narrowed her eyes at him. “Speak honestly: Are you with New Albion? An agent of the Stolen Throne, come to sow discord among us Umbrals?”

“I understood almost all of those words individually,” Shiv deadpanned.

The speaker shook her head. “You must know that the story you told me is… absurd. You fell? You just… fell?”

“Someone threw me first. But yeah, I fell.”

“How high is your Toughness?”

“I’ll tell you that if you let me see that knife you were talking about.”

She didn’t show him any knife, and he didn’t tell her about his Toughness. So far, she seemed wary of him. That was good. It was easy to be confident if you didn’t much care if someone killed you or not. In fact, he might even prefer getting killed by her on some level. “If you’re not going to show me the knife, at least show me the way out of this place. I want to trade good deeds. I preserved your sister’s body. You get me out of this place. Wherever this is.”

“You are in the Umbral Gardens, surfacer. Very few of your kind find themselves here. Those who do are mostly slaves, slavers, or something darker.”

“Slaves?” Shiv said. Well, that was horrible. The Republic had plenty of problems, but they didn’t do slavery.

“Indeed,” the speaker said.

“You got a name?” Shiv asked.

She paused. “I am Sister Nomos, of her Lady Archae. What is your name, surfacer?”

“Shiv.”

“Just Shiv?”

“It’s what I call myself. It’s the only name I’ll ever treat as mine.”

“Why Shiv?”

Shiv looked at her as if she were simple. “I like knives.”

The elf almost laughed. “Of course. You are… very single-minded.”

Shiv sneered. “I like things. Can’t a man have felling hobbies without being insulted?”

“She is prepared, sister,” Utti, the shortbow archer among the elves, said. She had the dead one strapped to her back, and Shiv found that to be a show of dedication if nothing else.

“So, are you guys going to show me how to get out of here, or try to kill me. I’m fine with both.” And Shiv really was.

The elves were tense again, and Nomos sighed. “You walk in front of me, surfacer. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Shiv rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“And lose the Cave Biter Stalk. How did you get that anyway?”

“Cut it off.”

“Off a Cave Biter?”

“Yeah. I needed a light. I can’t see down here.”

“I… Oh, right, you have light-tainted surfacer eyes.”

Shiv was about to insult her back for that when he realized she was technically right.

“Get rid of it. It draws attention—makes us obvious. We will guide you.”

“Yes. And I trust you completely.”

She barked a laugh. “If trust is what you’re worried about, then you should never have called us. If this was to end in blood, I would have attacked already.”

Shiv sighed and then wrapped a cloth around his torch. “How about this? No light.”

He couldn’t see them anymore—part of him prepared for an attack.

But then, Nomos spoke again. “Fine. Now.” He felt her grab his shoulder from behind and push him. “Follow my hand.”

Shiv frowned. “I feel like a meat shield. Is this your plan to find out how much Toughness I have?”

“And be quiet,” Nomos hissed. “Or we might be doing that very soon ind—”

Suddenly, something slammed down hard in front of the group. Shiv felt broken rocks crack and bounce off his body. One hit him in the eye but skipped off without harm. He smirked. Toughness was the best.

Without asking for permission, Shiv pulled the cloth off his torch, only to find another group standing before him and the elves. Said group was composed of a few dozen lesser vampires, and a pale-skinned man with blood-red eyes clad in a bright red coat.

“Ah. Sister Nomos. We meet at last. Sister Nutu told me so much about you during my conversation with her.” As the man spoke, Shiv noticed how sharp his teeth were. There were also his human-like ears. This one was most certainly not an elf. Shiv just didn’t know what he was.

“Bloodspawn,” Nomos snarled. She pointed her spear forward, and the tip came alight with a cold glow. Shiv could feel the temperature around him dropping. “I give this one chance—depart and be spared.”

The man laughed. “You? Threatening me? Right now? I must tell my elders of this: It will be greatly amusing.” He kept chuckling as he shook his head. “No. No. Here is my offer to you. Give me the Cage, and I will let you choose one sister to go back alive with you. It is generous. Me and my kin have not had fresh succor in days.”

“Kin?” Shiv said. He looked between the lesser vampires and the man dressed in red. “But… they’re vampires.”

Suddenly, he felt like everyone was looking at him. The man, especially. “And… who are you? A surfacer? Dressed like that? Has another lackey of the Stolen Throne gotten lost in our depths?”

“Don’t know what that is. I also don’t much know what you are, beyond the fact that you’re called Bloodspawn.”

“Me?” The man frowned. “I’m clearly a high vampire, boy. Open your eyes.”

“No, you’re not.”

“What?” the self-proclaimed high vampire said, frowning.

“Yeah, I looked in the bestiary. High vampires have wings and the head of a wolf and a bat. They also look ugly as sin and have these long claws—” Shiv gestured.

Everyone was still staring at him. The man looked especially amused. “I see, I see…” He giggled. “Oh, the pitiful surfacers and their terrible propaganda. So much effort to hide the world lurking below from their people, to preserve the supposed divinity of their so-called republic council.”

“So, you’re telling me high vampires don’t look like that?” Shiv asked.

The supposed high vampire considered that. “Well, we can choose to. Many of the kindred take on combat forms—” Then he caught himself. “What am I doing? Why am I explaining this to prey?” He sighed. “I must be tired. Time to be done with this hunt and return. Nomos. Your reply?”

“I will wear your heart as a necklace,” the elf sneered.

“Ah. So be it. You. Surfacer. What’s your name?”

“Shiv,” the Deathless answered.

“Shiv?” the high vampire frowned. “Well, I don’t much like the sound of that. Well. Goodbye, Shiv.”

Then, he waved a hand. Before Shiv could blink, his body was bloody mist, and he was a Revenant again.

Huh? That’s new, Shiv thought, regarding his most recent death. That was most definitely magic. Some kind of Biomancy. Frankly, it felt exactly like Biomancy—instead of healing him, it obliterated him from inside.

Shiv wondered if he could adapt to that with a few more deaths.

Toughness > 38

The Bloodspawn laughed. “Children. Go feed.”

And in the dark, Shiv heard the lesser vampires rush forth as a new battle was joined.