Chapter Five

The room had a lofty ceiling, fifteen to twenty feet up, and there were a pair of large grates through which light had illuminated the room. The room was above sewage level, so the floor was dry, a welcoming change from where he had spent the last several hours. It was a box like room, with a closed wooden door to his right. In the center was a lower section, perhaps two or three feet down and two to three feet across, where what looked like a clear stream of water was flowing gently. It entered from a small opening in the wall to the left, and ran underneath the closed door to the right. He hobbled inside, letting loose a sigh of relief and shouldering the blade. He set the sword down, slipping off his leather armor and unbuckling his leg guards. “No human waste,” he peeled off his soiled and torn undershirt, throwing it into the water. “No giant rats,” he bent down painfully to remove both his boots, tossing them into the flow. He sat down in the water facing the door, his sore body aching as he lowered himself down, “about damn time.” Lloyd leaned back slowly until he was fully submerged, before snapping back to a sitting position; shaking the water from his head furiously then cupping some in his hands to drink. The water was cool and refreshing, and as he was going back for a second drink his ears picked up noise from the tunnel to the right - light movement, echoing down the pipe and into the room; followed by a familiar piercing screech. Maybe I spoke to soon.

He scrambled hastily out of the wide indenture, sliding back on the stone and retrieving the sword. Using a free hand, he wiped his brow; flicking the matted hair out of his eyes as he peered into the corridor. The sunlight from above counteracted the dim glow of the sewers, and only the first few feet were revealed. The noise intensified, cacophonous as the two of claws moved towards him at an alarming rate. It barreled out the end of the pipe, jagged teeth and claw flying across the room as Lloyd’s eyes widened and he tumbled to a side. The rat smashed into the far wall, bits of broken rock and masonry breaking off as it fell to the ground on its side before flailing around and righting itself. Hopping across the stream, Lloyd ran at the door; holding the sword with one hand as he frantically tried the handle, locked! He turned in time to drop to the side and slide away, as the rat leaped towards him, breaking through the wood door and blocking the open frame with its girth. This one was clearly an older rat, or at least a larger one. The fur on its head was a base of dark brown, with lines of gray snaking around his ears and down his back. At its base was a foot long stub of a tail, the end of which was horribly scarred and blackened. It raised its hindquarters, backing up and bringing its front low the ground; readying to pounce. Lloyd steadied himself, inching closer to the center of the room; weapon out.

As the beast leapt he turned the wide blade sideways while sidestepping into the stream. He dropped to his knees, bending backwards, holding the falchion as a shield as the rat landed on top of him, pinning the blade between them. A paw wrapped around the now wedged sword, claws swishing through the water above his head, searching for flesh. Contorting himself, Lloyd pushed himself downstream, towards where the door had once been. The rat hissed and began to madly bat at the water; scraping the empty space where he had been. Moments later he surfaced past the door as quietly as possible before he climbed out of the water, leaning against the wall that lay between him and the rat which was thrashing at the water crazily. Taking soft, controlled breaths, Lloyd peaked around the corner; it still thinks I’m there, good.

He glanced at his new surroundings, the room was as wide as the one before it; but far longer, extending out thirty feet and then down a large set of stairs out of sight, the clearance tapering off with it. The stream continued its flow through the center of the room and appeared to continue through the middle of the stairs. The ceiling was once again out of his reach, and a pair of grates shed light down into the otherwise unlit room. As he looked around, the hysterical splashing behind him stopped, and Lloyd now heard the sound of metal clanging as his sword was knocked into the water. Again from his vantage point, he could see the rat, head now submerged in the looking for him. It pulled out of the stream, letting loose a guttural hiss, before turning about. Lloyd leaned away, removing his head from view. Don’t come over here, don’t come over here.

The rat pawed through his pile of armor, dragging its tongue along the ground before snorting at the air. It sniffed loudly a few times, moving in a stagger step towards the splintered door, moving closer to Lloyd. His breathing grew more rapid, as he tried to keep calm, reaching for his boot dagger; forgetting that he lost it in the torrential river earlier. Shit. The pointed head of the beast cast a shadow that began to reach out next to Lloyd, growing larger by the second. He could see the tip of its snout, followed by a row of teeth as it began to step into the room. Lloyd flexed his arm back, his fingers folding into a quivering fist, I just need one good hit and then I can make a run for it, down those stairs. He reared up, getting ready to strike, as the sound of metal being dislodged from place caused the rat to retreat from view and turn around as Lloyd dropped back to the ground, what the hell? The metal noise continued for another second before being followed by a large crash; something fell? The grate? The creature shrieked, lunging forward as he heard the sounds of combat and a low crack. The rat roared in pain, the shrill cry lasting until a second muffled whack ushered silence into the room. After a moment spent preparing himself, Lloyd inched around the corner, his clenched fist dropping as he saw the creature’s carcass, hunched in the middle of the room. A limp leg hung in the water, a steady flow of blood moving downstream with the water.

Behind the body, to the side of the stream, stood a muscled man, slightly taller than Lloyd, panting heavily. A dark tan, he was shaved bald and had several facial features that identified him as a foreigner. His cheekbones were high and nose wide, eyes spaced evenly but set back from his face, giving the impression that they were always looking intensely. He had a wide build, and his clothing was unlike anything Lloyd had ever seen. What looked like a single white sheet of linen had been wrapped over him several times, and was held down with some tight wrappings of cloth. Both feet were dressed as such from the shin to toe, and it did not appear as if he wore any shoes. His left hand was wrapped similarly, but on his right he wore an impressive gauntlet made of a dark metal. In addition to being well plated and skillfully crafted, it was covered in a tight spray of short, cruel looking spikes; like minute mountains across his knuckles. His garb was we immaculate aside from a thin spray of red on his chest and arm, leading down to a thick mass of red on the steeled fist. Lloyd followed the man with his eyes as he stepped into the stream, rinsing the blood off himself and muttering something under his breath. As Lloyd leaned out further to get a better glimpse, his grip began to fail as he stumbled uncontrollably into the water.

Shit! Before he could right himself in the water, a strong hand had already reached in and grasped him by the arm, pulling him out of the water and dragging him onto the dry bank. Lloyd turned around to see the strange man bearing down upon him, smiling warmly. He scrambled backwards, “Who the hell are you?” The man bend over, extending his wrapped hand, “No need for worry, I’m here to help,” his voice was deep and reassuring, and Lloyd slowing accepted the hand before being helped to his feet, the man’s strong arm nearly lifting him off the ground in the process. “So who are you, exactly?” The man chuckled and repeated in a low baritone. “I’m here to help you, Marked One, I am your protector.”