Chapter 534: Enter The Underground

Following Hunter’s instructions brought Owyn and Raven to an unfortunately familiar location, where they were met at the entrance of some sort of underground storage space by an unfortunately familiar person.

"Well, well, well," the human known as Skull preened, tonight wearing a roundish hat, a black blazer, under which was a white, stained, sleeveless top, and black pants with suspenders. "The Peasant returns! Our Dark Angel must have shown you mercy for you to stand before me again."

"You know this guy?" Raven asked.

"Long story," Owyn said.

"And who is this? By her eyes I see a fellow darkling, yet she dresses in false garb... Black would suit her far better, yes?" He offered a hand to Raven, who oddly allowed him to kiss her own.

"What makes you say my ’garb’ is false?" she took her hand back.

"A lady wears the night on her eyes and lips, well placed and in good taste," he grinned. "Unlike the rest of... that." He gestured at her entire outfit, eyes lingering on the belt she was using before he abruptly looked up. "Skull is what I am called."

"At least someone here seems to have a sense of fashion. Call me... Crow."

Finally realizing what he meant, Owyn mentally kicked himself for not thinking to address Raven about her black makeup. "And I’m Owyn."

Skull hissed at Owyn’s interjection, and Owyn wondered if he and Raven were somehow related. If not, then they might be a match for each other...

"But I am remiss! Are you here for the spectacle of magical fisticuffs?" Skull asked, his attention entirely on Raven.

"Have you seen a girl with lavender-colored hair? Fair skin, about so-tall," she held a hand at about her shoulder. "She likes to fight, and I aim to fight her."

"Well, if it’s fighting you want, you stand at the threshold, Lady Crow. But on specifics, I cannot say. Surely you know the first rule of the Underground?"

"Don’t talk about the Underground?" Owyn ventured.

Skull scoffed. "If no one talked about the Underground, how would we find those to whom we provide our delights?" He turned back to Raven, "No, the first rule is ’Death to snitches.’" With a flourish, his arms fling up in opposite directions, he produced a circular token in one hand and an overly ornate stilleto in the other. "An obal for entry, and a drop of blood is your fee."

Before Owyn could ask, Raven arched an eyebrow. "A blood token? I’m not fond of being tracked."

"’Tis required for newcomers to the dark."

"There’s only one token," Raven noted.

"For milady of course," Skull grinned.

"I’d prefer if this one came with me," she gestured at Owyn, before crossing her arms. "How much?"

Skull seemed genuinely offended, "I would not be so uncouth as to take gold from a comrade in darkness. No, from him I require satisfaction..." He eyed Owyn, and Owyn spotted Raven’s lips twisting as she suppressed a smile. "... a kiss!"

Owyn bristled, "Wh-what?"

"On the statue of Our Angel of Darkness! Kiss her feet and pray forgiveness for the stain you put upon her stone!" Skull gestured.

A choked laugh finally escaped Raven’s lips, and she followed Skull’s gesture to the fountain. "Well, Owyn? It’s just a statue."

Anywhere else, such disrespect would demand a fight, or Owyn would lose all respect as a giant of his clan. But this was not anywhere else, this was Norneau. A place still unknown to him, where anyone could be a mage stronger than any he’d heard of... And he didn’t trust that he knew enough to win against Skull now.

And so, swallowing his pride, Owyn marched over to the statue and bent, brushed the statue’s foot with his lips, and muttered a curse on Skull and his whole bloodline. Not that it did anything but make Owyn feel slightly better.

"Ah, sweet balance restored," Skull exclaimed as Owyn returned, while Raven held back her chortles. He flicked his arm out, producing two obals this time. "Your passage, giant." He proferred the knife, and Owyn grumpily poked his finger onto it before pressing his blood onto the obal, which flashed for a brief moment before disappearing back down Skull’s sleeve. The young human turned to Raven next. "Lady Crow?"

"I need no knife," she raised a finger, and a drop of blood flowed down her stilleto nail to land on the second obal.

"How wonderfully macabre," Skull complimented. The obal flashed, but right as it was about to disappear up Skull’s sleeve, the drop of blood flew back to Raven’s finger. It would have gone unnoticed if Owyn hadn’t been looking at her hand, wondering how she produced the drop in the first place, before he remembered just what kind of mage she was.

The moment Skull turned his back, Raven looked into Owyn’s eyes and raised a single mischievous finger to her lips. Finally allowed to enter, they followed Skull into a maintenance tunnel, opening a pair of heavy metal doors with his bare hands as he bombastically declared, "Welcome to the halls of unrestricted delights!"

The first thing Owyn saw was a gem elf - they called them mountain elves here - taking a large puff from a wooden pipe that glowed blue at one end, letting out a purple haze of smoke before grumpily standing. Reaching into a jar he scooped up a bunch of obols, which he pocketed as he went for the door to replace Skull.

Skull barely paid the elf any mind as he gestured around, "Through there you can find concoctions and creations to stimulate you in mind, body, and soul. Perhaps even something to refine your rough magics," he taunted Owyn as they passed a tunnel which was foggy with green and purple smoke.

"Down that hall is where those with business conduct their affairs. Sadly, we are not amongst the permitted." The hall in question was flanked on both sides with burly-looking fighters, who were sizing each other up more than them. One, however, a grey-skinned half-giant, pivoted her gaze to Owyn as the group passed, winking and smiling at him in a predatory manner that made him internally flinch and externally blush as she dragged her tongue across golden canine teeth.

Owyn missed Raven’s question, but not Skull’s answer of, "Sadly, carnal delights are the Second Ward’s preferred domain. Our main event aways a-yonder," he indicated up the hall where loud cries and cheers were accompanied by the occasional smack of flesh against flesh and the muffled thuds of magical shielding.

Inside the arena, an orc and a mousekin squared off, both putting distance between them. The latter came only up to the orc’s knee, but they seemed to be in better condition compared to the orc, who was glistening with sweat and had a bloody gash on his shoulder.

As Owyn gawked, the orc punched into the air, unleashing a flurry of near-invisible blades that broke against the mousekin’s shield before the latter returned the favor, stomping into a sidekick that manifested an arc of icy daggers, which flew towards the orc.

The orc raised his arms and a shield, and while three of the blades deflected off, the fourth broke the shield and the fifth placed a cut on the orc’s forearm.

But that wasn’t all.

Along with the blades, the mousekin had run forward, ducking under the orc’s guard to punch him in the groin a split second after the fifth dagger left its glancing wound. There was a collective gasp from half the crowd before mousekin, not yet finished, grabbed the orc by one leg and heaved him in an arc that tossed him into the stone wall. They bounded over and started to kick the orc again and again until, with a desperate cry, the mousekin’s opponent yielded.

Much of the crowd erupted in cheers while the rest bitterly threw their betting slips onto a floor already littered with them.

The fight concluded, the mousekin and orc withdrew through the impromptu ring as twoof the kids Owyn had spotted during his first encounter with Skull went through with a simple cleaning spell that accumulated all the paper into one pile, which they dumped into a bag and took away. It reminded Owyn how little actual waste he’d seen in Norneau compared to the port of Reclaim.

I guess even down here they’re all neat-freaks...

As his eyed adjusted to the light in this space, he saw signs of its actual purpose. They were in a shelter, specifically one that seemed designed to house far more people than those gathered around the small, improvised arena. A place that, to his senses, was enchanted on top of being made of concrete.

In other words, the perfect spot for an underground arena.

A sudden grab at his elbow made Owyn turn, and Raven raised her voice to tell him "Skull says he’ll introduce me to someone who might know where she is. You look around."

"We’re splitting up?" That seemed like a very bad idea given how bloodthirsty most of the people here looked. The crowd seemed almost evenly split between people in work clothes and those in formal, if not fine, threads. And all of them were excitedly cheering for the next fight.

It was a side of Norneau he hadn’t known to watch for, but one that made sense the more he thought about it.

In the day, the people of the city were proper and clean.

But at night, the desire for thrills came out in full force, along with those willing to provide what they could not enjoy aboveground.

Perhaps this place had more in common with the outside world than he thought, only everything was magnified by magic.

And without answering, Raven left him to fend for himself.