An Eerie Feeling 
27th Ash 121
Home is where the heart is, at least that's what they say.
Standing at the entrance of where he came from is an uneasy feeling. Wind blowing into the tunnel whispered and moaned in pain as if the ghosts of his past came to welcome him back. Going in there felt as though they might drag him under, never to return to the light of day again, but he had been slighted and must find ways to rectify a certain spiders opinion of him.
Cute, stupid, and prey were all things he must correct but he has to do it right. Here is where it will happen, and under his own conditions but she must not die to learn the intended lesson.
So here Yshvold stood, at the precipice, and looked down into the watery tunnel. He had thought that the world would end before he stepped foot into these depths again, and wished that had been the case, but where else could he press the home advantage if not in the tunnels that he once called home for most his life.
Yshvold pulled his bloodstained cloak up and kept his mask in hand as he looked in. His thumb caressed the smooth surface as he took deep breathes and readied his mind to break the barrier and brave the horrors and traumas of living as nothing. He was better now, if only marginally, and knew he could hold his own as long as he didn't venture in too deep. How far should he go then?
The first step was the hardest, never mind the encroaching smell. Slowly, ever so slowly, he put his foot forward into the maw of the beast and it all started to come back.
Hidden eyes watching him from every shadow, monsters of every shape and size around all corners, his danger sense flying red flags and dialed every sense to eleven. Truly this was his element and nothing could get the better of him while under this heightened sense of awareness. The sounds of water drops from cracks in the ceiling, slow flowing water from the canal leading out, and various squeeks and whispers of opportunistic predators bounce off the walls.
Home sweet home, it was as if he never left. The familiar stonework of the wall kept their scratch marks of various struggles for survival the deeper he went in and told him a thousand tales of victories won and lost beneath the city above, further down he would be able to find more brutal battles or swifter ambushes between monsters, both known and unknown. It was all nostalgic to look over, but something was wrong.
The air was too still, rats were more sparse than usual, and he suspected to find one or two smugglers by now. Nothing could stop the natural laws of these tunnels as the eternal search for food takes precedence over everything and to be able to break that unbending law meant something else was disrupting the balance, but what?
These were animals so if something was nearby then they would hide if they could not overpower it but there was nothing, not a single soul. Searching the walls and grounds for new cracks and holes gave him nothing as well but something was giving him chills. Something was in these tunnels, somewhere, and if it was dangerous then it should have struck by now.
It infuriated Yshvold. Some new predator had taken up residence deeper within and it seemed to challenge the boy to come further in by changing what he knew about his old home. He will accept this brazen fools duel, and show them the lie of their new status as the apex predator here.
Just as he was there, he soon vanished as he stepped back into the shadows. The tunnels devoid of any existence heard only the quiet footsteps of another ambush hunter stalking its walls. Sometimes a rat would scamper out into the little light that would be left to it, and soon a shadow would swoop in and cleave it in half with a frightened squeak.
Yshvold never had this kind of control over his environment before, if he was able to do the these things then he would have never had to hide in fear and would rule above everything else here. Would it have satisfied him though?
Through each tunnel and going around cave ins rewarded him with no new prey, just more rats and the occasional slime. Sometimes he would find the telltale signs of holes peppering the walls, ceiling, and ground and forced him to either move around them or keep low to the ground to avoid attracting the threat of something he was unable to handle at the moment. Where were the people though?
Just one person would give him the information he needed but no one showed. He thought of going back to the town but the way would be needlessly dangerous and took far too long to get there, there were other things that needed to be done today and he didn't prepare for an extended trip down here. Whoever it was that was down here asserting their dominance over the beasts had not shown themselves and it became clear that they might be further down.
He had no evidence besides the ominous behavior of aggressive rodents, cowering in their holes, and the quietness of a blood soaked haven for the unwanted but he could feel something. Should he go to the authorities above? Would they even care? Or maybe...
An idea came to mind, no one would listen to him or wouldn't believe him in the first place. No one who hadn't lived down there would know what to look for and if he had found someone to brave the deeps he might just be sending them to their deaths for no good reason but perhaps there was one person who would understand, given the right motive.
Yshvold's plan to map the tunnels was still a success, and he could plot out a course for Nnerka to follow should she accept his challenge, and using this would allow him a second person with influence to spread the word of the strange happenings going on down here.
Now he would have to make sure she survives should whatever it was sensed their movement and decided to rout them from the waterways. Her death would be fruitless and he feels life would be dull without him being able to challenge her again after this. He could come up with better excuses to make sure she dies as well, but for his plan to work there needed to be compromises. Becoming an good person in the eyes of others was hard and confusing, so many moments where he had to ignore his instincts for the better alternative.
For now it was time to leave and plot. His real purpose had been done long ago and going deeper did not appeal to him. Yshvold grinded his teeth as he moved from shadow to shadow, marking the walls with a scratch of his dagger to mark the predestined path in.
Disappointment mounted in the back of his mind as he kept his senses sharp. A moment to pause and think more on how he would press the importance of getting Nnerka to treat him with more dignity allowed him a target to practice something new.
A rat scuttled out of a hole in the wall, the size of a small dog, and sniffed the air on its hind legs. It was a good target and he needed better ways of dispatching opponents without getting so close. He had practiced throwing his knife before, with varying degrees of success, but a live target would provide better practice.
Quietly he unsheathed his dagger, the balance being wrong for this type of use, and held it by the blade as he honed in on his target. The rat lowed itself down onto its front legs and slowly walked to the sewer water near its hole in the wall and sniffed for something within, soon it would retreat and his chance would be lost.
The knife came back and is swiftly thrown but the blade did not pierce its intended target. Instead the cutting edge spun and cut the rats back, causing loud pain screeches to echo off the halls, and Yshvold took out the second knife to kill this animal before it alerted more of its kin, or something bigger.
He should have charged in and and mercifully ended the rats suffering but instead he reeled it back like the second and threw it lower than the second. Again it didn't hit exactly where he wished but the tip pierced its body and quieted the suffering animal. Its quick leg jerks to escape told Yshvold it was still alive but would soon leave its life and body to the denizens of the deep, he had won. Grateful was the hunter to his prey that allowed him to practice new skills and for that he would end the rats suffering quickly.
Whatever it was that was down here didn't even bother to investigate the screeching of easy prey and it unsettled him. He collected his daggers and left this disgusting hole in the ground for now.
He will be back soon, prepared to dethrone whoever it was that disturbed equilibrium in his old stomping grounds, but he must plan first and assure his fight goes without faults.
Standing at the entrance of where he came from is an uneasy feeling. Wind blowing into the tunnel whispered and moaned in pain as if the ghosts of his past came to welcome him back. Going in there felt as though they might drag him under, never to return to the light of day again, but he had been slighted and must find ways to rectify a certain spiders opinion of him.
Cute, stupid, and prey were all things he must correct but he has to do it right. Here is where it will happen, and under his own conditions but she must not die to learn the intended lesson.
So here Yshvold stood, at the precipice, and looked down into the watery tunnel. He had thought that the world would end before he stepped foot into these depths again, and wished that had been the case, but where else could he press the home advantage if not in the tunnels that he once called home for most his life.
Yshvold pulled his bloodstained cloak up and kept his mask in hand as he looked in. His thumb caressed the smooth surface as he took deep breathes and readied his mind to break the barrier and brave the horrors and traumas of living as nothing. He was better now, if only marginally, and knew he could hold his own as long as he didn't venture in too deep. How far should he go then?
The first step was the hardest, never mind the encroaching smell. Slowly, ever so slowly, he put his foot forward into the maw of the beast and it all started to come back.
Hidden eyes watching him from every shadow, monsters of every shape and size around all corners, his danger sense flying red flags and dialed every sense to eleven. Truly this was his element and nothing could get the better of him while under this heightened sense of awareness. The sounds of water drops from cracks in the ceiling, slow flowing water from the canal leading out, and various squeeks and whispers of opportunistic predators bounce off the walls.
Home sweet home, it was as if he never left. The familiar stonework of the wall kept their scratch marks of various struggles for survival the deeper he went in and told him a thousand tales of victories won and lost beneath the city above, further down he would be able to find more brutal battles or swifter ambushes between monsters, both known and unknown. It was all nostalgic to look over, but something was wrong.
The air was too still, rats were more sparse than usual, and he suspected to find one or two smugglers by now. Nothing could stop the natural laws of these tunnels as the eternal search for food takes precedence over everything and to be able to break that unbending law meant something else was disrupting the balance, but what?
These were animals so if something was nearby then they would hide if they could not overpower it but there was nothing, not a single soul. Searching the walls and grounds for new cracks and holes gave him nothing as well but something was giving him chills. Something was in these tunnels, somewhere, and if it was dangerous then it should have struck by now.
It infuriated Yshvold. Some new predator had taken up residence deeper within and it seemed to challenge the boy to come further in by changing what he knew about his old home. He will accept this brazen fools duel, and show them the lie of their new status as the apex predator here.
Just as he was there, he soon vanished as he stepped back into the shadows. The tunnels devoid of any existence heard only the quiet footsteps of another ambush hunter stalking its walls. Sometimes a rat would scamper out into the little light that would be left to it, and soon a shadow would swoop in and cleave it in half with a frightened squeak.
Yshvold never had this kind of control over his environment before, if he was able to do the these things then he would have never had to hide in fear and would rule above everything else here. Would it have satisfied him though?
Through each tunnel and going around cave ins rewarded him with no new prey, just more rats and the occasional slime. Sometimes he would find the telltale signs of holes peppering the walls, ceiling, and ground and forced him to either move around them or keep low to the ground to avoid attracting the threat of something he was unable to handle at the moment. Where were the people though?
Just one person would give him the information he needed but no one showed. He thought of going back to the town but the way would be needlessly dangerous and took far too long to get there, there were other things that needed to be done today and he didn't prepare for an extended trip down here. Whoever it was that was down here asserting their dominance over the beasts had not shown themselves and it became clear that they might be further down.
He had no evidence besides the ominous behavior of aggressive rodents, cowering in their holes, and the quietness of a blood soaked haven for the unwanted but he could feel something. Should he go to the authorities above? Would they even care? Or maybe...
An idea came to mind, no one would listen to him or wouldn't believe him in the first place. No one who hadn't lived down there would know what to look for and if he had found someone to brave the deeps he might just be sending them to their deaths for no good reason but perhaps there was one person who would understand, given the right motive.
Yshvold's plan to map the tunnels was still a success, and he could plot out a course for Nnerka to follow should she accept his challenge, and using this would allow him a second person with influence to spread the word of the strange happenings going on down here.
Now he would have to make sure she survives should whatever it was sensed their movement and decided to rout them from the waterways. Her death would be fruitless and he feels life would be dull without him being able to challenge her again after this. He could come up with better excuses to make sure she dies as well, but for his plan to work there needed to be compromises. Becoming an good person in the eyes of others was hard and confusing, so many moments where he had to ignore his instincts for the better alternative.
For now it was time to leave and plot. His real purpose had been done long ago and going deeper did not appeal to him. Yshvold grinded his teeth as he moved from shadow to shadow, marking the walls with a scratch of his dagger to mark the predestined path in.
Disappointment mounted in the back of his mind as he kept his senses sharp. A moment to pause and think more on how he would press the importance of getting Nnerka to treat him with more dignity allowed him a target to practice something new.
A rat scuttled out of a hole in the wall, the size of a small dog, and sniffed the air on its hind legs. It was a good target and he needed better ways of dispatching opponents without getting so close. He had practiced throwing his knife before, with varying degrees of success, but a live target would provide better practice.
Quietly he unsheathed his dagger, the balance being wrong for this type of use, and held it by the blade as he honed in on his target. The rat lowed itself down onto its front legs and slowly walked to the sewer water near its hole in the wall and sniffed for something within, soon it would retreat and his chance would be lost.
The knife came back and is swiftly thrown but the blade did not pierce its intended target. Instead the cutting edge spun and cut the rats back, causing loud pain screeches to echo off the halls, and Yshvold took out the second knife to kill this animal before it alerted more of its kin, or something bigger.
He should have charged in and and mercifully ended the rats suffering but instead he reeled it back like the second and threw it lower than the second. Again it didn't hit exactly where he wished but the tip pierced its body and quieted the suffering animal. Its quick leg jerks to escape told Yshvold it was still alive but would soon leave its life and body to the denizens of the deep, he had won. Grateful was the hunter to his prey that allowed him to practice new skills and for that he would end the rats suffering quickly.
Whatever it was that was down here didn't even bother to investigate the screeching of easy prey and it unsettled him. He collected his daggers and left this disgusting hole in the ground for now.
He will be back soon, prepared to dethrone whoever it was that disturbed equilibrium in his old stomping grounds, but he must plan first and assure his fight goes without faults.
