Timestamp: 80th of Winter, 518 AV
Tarn strained his eyes trying to pierce the thick darkness, but to no avail. His path was lit a little way in front of him by the torch he held, but the feeble flame couldn’t do much more than illuminate just enough ground for him to take his next step with some measure of surety. Above his head, many feet of stone lay between him and Sunberth’s busy streets. Down here, Tarn was insulated from the clamor of the city, surrounded by a suffocating silence broken only by his own footsteps, the rhythmic dripping of water from the cave ceiling, and the occasional pattering feet from one of the city’s monstrous rats.
Tarn hadn’t meant to go this deep underground. He’d first entered the maze of Sunberth’s mining tunnels through the entrance the Sun’s Birth maintained. In the beginning, he’d planned on only going slightly farther than the gang’s regular sphere of control. All he’d wanted was a secluded spot, an abandoned room maybe that he could use for his own purposes, but instead he’d gotten lost. Quite hopelessly lost, in fact.
At first, he’d tried to make a map so he could retrace his steps and maybe make some sense of this place. That venture had failed, and the resulting “map” resembled a child’s drawing more than anything else. If anything, Tarn had a worse sense of his direction afterwards than if he hadn’t tried at all. He was beginning to grow very worried. He’d lost his sense of time, but it had to have been at least a full bell since he had descended into the tunnels, maybe two, or even three. It was hard to keep his mind straight down here. All he could do was keep walking, hoping to find some sign of a route back to the surface. Preferably one that wouldn’t bring him back up into the basement of some bloodthirsty Daggerhand, or somebody else who wanted to kill him, as Tarn was regrettably unarmed.
As Tarn walked, the cave he had been following intersected another tunnel. This one was slightly larger, with smoother walls. Tarn stopped and cocked his head. This new tunnel looked far more like a passageway than the one he had been following before, which looked like it hadn’t seen consistent human feet in a few centuries. The walls of this one were smoother, as was the floor. The ceiling was tall as well, with more than a foot of clear space above Tarn’s head.
Tarn decided to follow this new path. He didn’t know where it led, but at least it looked like it went somewhere. He picked a direction and followed it, resuming his march through the darkness. Tarn’s legs were beginning to tire. He had been walking for some time now, and didn’t want to stop and rest for fear his torch would burn out and he would be stuck down here in the stygian blackness forever.
Almost like an answer to his ensuing fear, Tarn’s eyes caught a distant speck of light. Growing excited, Tarn started to walk faster, nearly breaking into a run before his caution overtook him. People in Sunberth didn’t like others interfering with their business, and people whose business necessitated the use of the tunnels were more than likely the type that liked to “silence” loose ends that got involved where they didn’t belong. He had to be careful.
Tarn slowly approached the light, doing his best to step quietly. Unfortunately, any subtlety he gained was outweighed by his loud, heavy breathing. Being in darkness for so long was starting to do a number on his nerves. As he broke out into the illuminated area, Tarn’s eyebrow raised with curiosity. It seemed to be a workshop of sorts. Not like any he’d seen before though. There was a sheaf of papers on a workbench, and Tarn leaned over to inspect them. They were filled with figures that he recognized as letters and numbers, but he couldn’t quite make out what they said. He’d never been able to read more than a word here and there. His pa had always wanted to teach him more thoroughly, but they’d never found the time, and eventually his pa’s time had run out.
Tarn picked through a few of the other items on the bench, including some glass tubes and bottles, examining them.
“What the…” Tarn mumbled.
“Hey!” a voice called out to Tarn. His eyes shot up and he spun around on his heel to meet the gaze of a keen-eyed man. “Please, do not touch those, they are quite delicate.” Tarn backed away from the workbench, raising his hands to show he was unarmed and hadn’t swiped anything.
“I’m sorry,” Tarn said, “I was just lost, and I saw your lights, and then…” Tarn gestured vaguely around him.
“You must have been quite lost to make your way here on accident. Would you mind disclosing where you descended?” the man asked.
“I came down from the West side of the city,” Tarn replied. The man raised an eyebrow.
“Quite lost indeed.”
Tarn hadn’t meant to go this deep underground. He’d first entered the maze of Sunberth’s mining tunnels through the entrance the Sun’s Birth maintained. In the beginning, he’d planned on only going slightly farther than the gang’s regular sphere of control. All he’d wanted was a secluded spot, an abandoned room maybe that he could use for his own purposes, but instead he’d gotten lost. Quite hopelessly lost, in fact.
At first, he’d tried to make a map so he could retrace his steps and maybe make some sense of this place. That venture had failed, and the resulting “map” resembled a child’s drawing more than anything else. If anything, Tarn had a worse sense of his direction afterwards than if he hadn’t tried at all. He was beginning to grow very worried. He’d lost his sense of time, but it had to have been at least a full bell since he had descended into the tunnels, maybe two, or even three. It was hard to keep his mind straight down here. All he could do was keep walking, hoping to find some sign of a route back to the surface. Preferably one that wouldn’t bring him back up into the basement of some bloodthirsty Daggerhand, or somebody else who wanted to kill him, as Tarn was regrettably unarmed.
As Tarn walked, the cave he had been following intersected another tunnel. This one was slightly larger, with smoother walls. Tarn stopped and cocked his head. This new tunnel looked far more like a passageway than the one he had been following before, which looked like it hadn’t seen consistent human feet in a few centuries. The walls of this one were smoother, as was the floor. The ceiling was tall as well, with more than a foot of clear space above Tarn’s head.
Tarn decided to follow this new path. He didn’t know where it led, but at least it looked like it went somewhere. He picked a direction and followed it, resuming his march through the darkness. Tarn’s legs were beginning to tire. He had been walking for some time now, and didn’t want to stop and rest for fear his torch would burn out and he would be stuck down here in the stygian blackness forever.
Almost like an answer to his ensuing fear, Tarn’s eyes caught a distant speck of light. Growing excited, Tarn started to walk faster, nearly breaking into a run before his caution overtook him. People in Sunberth didn’t like others interfering with their business, and people whose business necessitated the use of the tunnels were more than likely the type that liked to “silence” loose ends that got involved where they didn’t belong. He had to be careful.
Tarn slowly approached the light, doing his best to step quietly. Unfortunately, any subtlety he gained was outweighed by his loud, heavy breathing. Being in darkness for so long was starting to do a number on his nerves. As he broke out into the illuminated area, Tarn’s eyebrow raised with curiosity. It seemed to be a workshop of sorts. Not like any he’d seen before though. There was a sheaf of papers on a workbench, and Tarn leaned over to inspect them. They were filled with figures that he recognized as letters and numbers, but he couldn’t quite make out what they said. He’d never been able to read more than a word here and there. His pa had always wanted to teach him more thoroughly, but they’d never found the time, and eventually his pa’s time had run out.
Tarn picked through a few of the other items on the bench, including some glass tubes and bottles, examining them.
“What the…” Tarn mumbled.
“Hey!” a voice called out to Tarn. His eyes shot up and he spun around on his heel to meet the gaze of a keen-eyed man. “Please, do not touch those, they are quite delicate.” Tarn backed away from the workbench, raising his hands to show he was unarmed and hadn’t swiped anything.
“I’m sorry,” Tarn said, “I was just lost, and I saw your lights, and then…” Tarn gestured vaguely around him.
“You must have been quite lost to make your way here on accident. Would you mind disclosing where you descended?” the man asked.
“I came down from the West side of the city,” Tarn replied. The man raised an eyebrow.
“Quite lost indeed.”
