I Have a Task Log

"I’m going to look around Mist Harbor," Colin said. "I want to check things out."

They both unconsciously lowered their voices as they spoke. The tavern was, after all, eerily quiet.

"Didn’t you hear what the owner just said?" Dorn asked. "This isn’t exactly a tourist destination."

The Drow owner, who was clearing plates and knives, chimed in. "A lot of merchant caravans from the Drow Clans have been arriving recently. They’re saying they want to buy slaves for sacrifices. I’ve got a really bad feeling about it, gentlemen."

"It’s mainly that I want to see certain things with my own eyes," Colin said with a sigh. "By the way, is the Hundred Eyes Gang active in Mist Harbor?"

"Which gang?"

Colin repeated the question.

"Them... No, I don’t think they are."

’Looks like Bob was telling the truth,’ Colin thought. ’The Hundred Eyes Gang really is one of the more principled groups, or at least they value long-term profit more than a quick, dirty buck.’

With that in mind, Colin asked, "Right, I have another question. On the first three levels of the Undercity, have you seen any ruins related to Ora Kaim? Or the Shadow Anvil Clan? The kind of place that might have ancient relics."

’It’s a lot more convenient to ask these Five-Stringed than to have our little squad wander the Undercity and trust to luck.’

"There are quite a few of those," the Drow said, crossing his arms as he thought. "But if you want a fixed location, there’s just one cemetery. It was cleaned out by grave robbers a long time ago, though. There’s nothing left. No point in going."

"Where is it, exactly?" Colin said. "Dorn, pull out the map."

’Nothing might happen if other people go, but it might be different for him, a Murmurer.’

’Wasn’t the place that gave him his trial just some ordinary ruin? Maybe some kind of strange phenomenon will appear once he’s there.’

"Alright, it’s right about here," the Drow owner said, pointing to a spot on the map.

"Looks like we’ll have to take a bit of a detour," Dorn said, glancing at the map and stroking his beard.

The Drow owner glanced at the tavern’s other customers, then said, "We’ll leave it at that for now, gentlemen. I still recommend you at least have the Half-Elf lady stay in your room here."

Colin looked at Ale and said, "For now, you’ll stay here in the room."

The Half-Elf’s long ears twitched beneath her cloak, and she nodded. Orelia immediately spoke up from beside her, "I want to stay behind with Ale. Is that alright, Mr. Colin?"

Colin nodded.

’It couldn’t be helped.’

’The Drow were originally exiled to the underground by the Elves. Most Drow Elves harbor a bone-deep hatred for Surface Elves, and it’s no different for Half-Elves.’

Once the two girls had gone upstairs, the remaining three men left the tavern and started to wander down Mist Harbor’s main street.

They hadn’t gone far when Dorn’s voice drifted up. "What is it you really want to see, kid?"

"I’m mainly looking for anything related to Ora Kaim."

"And secondly," Colin said frankly, "I want to see what the local industries are. I heard many of the gangs in the slums of Thousand Masts City are controlled by nobles, and I want to see how exactly they’re making a profit."

"Slave trading, smuggling, assassination, fencing stolen goods..." Dorn said nonchalantly. "What else would you expect, human kid?"

"I just want to see it with my own eyes," Colin answered quietly.

Hearing this, the Dwarf fell silent.

The men stepped onto creaking wooden planks, following the crowd toward the Mist Harbor port.

Along the way, they could see skulls with eyeballs growing on them tucked into the corners of streets and alleys. There was no telling where the information seen by these skulls ultimately ended up.

Glowing fungi on the cave ceiling sprinkled a faint blue light onto the walkway, making it feel for a moment like the path was lit by the pale moon.

Stalls grew more numerous along the way, most of them simple awnings set up beside the boardwalk.

Although the pedestrians and customers were all wearing cloaks, the vendors here were not.

Gray Dwarves squatted behind wooden crates, hawking various fungi. Some hairless, dark-skinned Underground Gnomes tried to sell their ore to a figure in a Black Robe, and there were even humans with frighteningly pale skin selling fresh shipworms...

Scavengers wrapped in rags moved among the crowd, using hooks to pick up various bits of trash from the ground.

The scavengers came in all sizes, their eyes practically glowing green with hunger.

’The refugees in the slums might even be better off than these people,’ Colin mused. ’Their suffering is temporary. These people have been in this sunless cavern since the day they were born.’

At the end of the boardwalk, the space suddenly opened up before them.

The Mist Harbor docks were paved with obsidian slabs, washed smooth and shiny by the sea. Several tall, heavily armed brutes stood at various points around the market, scrutinizing every customer who approached.

These brutes were all over two meters tall and covered in thick fur. Their most striking feature was the huge, flat, wrinkled nose on their faces.

"Bear Goblins," Kase said, watching one of the guards. "Their noses really do look like a bear’s."

"That’s probably where they get their name," Colin said, turning his gaze to the most crowded part of the port.

It was a slave market.

From a distance, they could see three low stone daises. Iron rings were embedded in the platforms, and chained to each ring by the neck was a slave.

The slaves came in all sizes, male and female. Among them were Surface races like humans, Dwarves, and Halflings, as well as "evil" creatures like Orcs, Jackal Wolfmen, and Hobgoblins. There were even Underground natives like Drow and Gray Dwarves.

Aside from their status as slaves, the only thing they all had in common was the expression on their faces—a mixture of pain, fear, and numbness.

The slaves were forced to stand on the stone platforms to display their "selling points." Several wiry-looking slavers stood on the daises, shouting down to the crowd, while a group of buyers in black cloaks stood below, calling out bids.

The entire slave market was filled with a chilling liveliness.

"So? Satisfied?" Dorn said, crossing his arms. "There’s really nothing good to see here. An ordinary human goes for a dozen or so Gold Coins, a Dwarf for over seventy, and an Elf for a few hundred. A skilled craftsman doubles the price. I have to say, the prices are quite fair."

"Mokewick has places like this too," Kase said from beside them. "This is what happens to the defeated."

Colin watched the distant slave market and said, "So, what do you think of all this?"