I Have a Task Log

The entirety of Mist Harbor was built inside a massive cavern.

A rushing subterranean river flowed through the middle of the cavern, and the rising steam filled the entire space with layers of thin mist.

Stilt houses made from mushroom planks, Beast Hides, scrap metal, and rotten wood were built on the cavern floor and over the river. Layer upon layer of similarly dilapidated structures were stacked on top of them, ascending upward.

Many stalactites hung from the cavern ceiling. Several of the larger ones had fused with stalagmites on the ground to form massive stone pillars. The dilapidated buildings relied on these stalagmites, pillars, and stalactites for stability, and were connected to each other by rickety suspension bridges.

The buildings were completely devoid of order, like uncontrollably growing cancer cells.

’It’s a miracle something this chaotic hasn’t collapsed yet,’ Colin mused.

The group followed the crowd across a precarious wooden bridge.

The bridge seemed to connect to the second story of the wooden houses, putting them at a relatively high elevation.

Colin walked along the edge of the bridge, taking a careful look at Mist Harbor.

Simple docks were built along both sides of the subterranean river that bisected the city. A large number of boats, big and small, were moored at the docks’ edge. Most of them had no sails, with long oars resting on their decks instead.

He recalled reading that most of these were likely the Drows’ "Black Ships"—the typical merchant vessels of the Underground Elves.

There was also an island in the middle of the river.

On the island stood a watch fortress with three layers of walls. A giant stone pillar rose from its very center, hollowed out to form a natural tower.

Looking further up, he could faintly make out observation holes in the cavern ceiling.

As Colin was surveying the scene, eerie blue flames suddenly ignited along the bridge’s railings. One by one, strange, spectral-blue Ghosts climbed over and clung to the rails.

The sudden change made Colin and the others instinctively draw closer together.

The Ghosts were dressed in all sorts of attire. Some looked like Pirates, others like Adventurers, and some even had chains around their necks.

"Do not stir a tide of blood in the harbor, do not let the butcher’s blade cut down the innocent.

Do not light the fire that consumes the city, do not cast the Curse that slaughters the masses.

Do not slaughter wantonly in the streets, do not let Mad Skill tear apart the dome."

The Ghosts swayed on the railing, singing in ragged unison. Though their voices were chaotic, the words were clear, sounding like sailors singing a shanty.

"These are the rules of Mist Harbor. No public killings, no breaking contracts, and no casting large-scale destructive Magic," Dorn said. "But you should take it all with a grain of salt. The security here isn’t actually that great."

"Don’t tell me those Ghosts are all the poor souls who broke the rules?" Colin asked.

Dorn shrugged. "That’s hard to say."

As the two of them spoke, the singing around them continued.

"Do not build a mountain of unwarranted corpses, do not cast the evil spell that razes the city.

Only personal vendettas may be settled in the harbor, no plague of blood shall sweep over the people.

The Mist City will not tolerate boundless slaughter. The Ghost Watchers see all. Violators will fall forever into the Abyss, forever into the Abyss..."

As the song ended, the group finished crossing the suspension bridge and officially entered Mist Harbor.

Colin led the others forward along the dilapidated plank-road, following the sparse crowd.

The wooden planks used to build the road were covered in barnacles and other strange things, looking as if they’d been salvaged from old, derelict ships. They creaked and groaned underfoot.

Surprisingly, Mist Harbor was more populated than Colin had imagined.

Judging by the dilapidated houses alone, it seemed the city could house several thousand people. At the same time, a great many "Cloaked Men" walked the shadowy pathways.

They saw many figures in black cloaks along the way, but these people spoke to each other in hushed tones, so the only sounds on the main path were the creaking of the planks.

Colin had been a little worried that the tavern Five-Stringed had mentioned would be hard to find.

However, when he reached a small square, he saw a tavern sign wrapped in ropes and carved with hops. Below the image were the words "Delicious Maggot."

Upon seeing it, the group immediately headed for the tavern.

Halfway there, Ale looked up at the sign and said, "I can’t believe these shipworms can grow so long. It’s a shame to tie them up like that; they’re perfectly edible."

"What?"

Orelia and Colin asked in unison.

The words were such a stark contrast to the image of a Half-Elf that they both thought they’d misheard her.

"Shipworms. Don’t you know them? They’re the things on the sign that look like ropes," Dorn chimed in from the side. "Right, the water on the Surface is too cold. It’s true you country bumpkins wouldn’t see them very often."

"Shipworms eat wood, so they don’t have a fishy taste. They’re delicious eaten raw," Ale added, rare for her to agree so readily with the Dwarf.

"The meat-eating ones must be tastier than the wood-eating ones, right? The ones I’ve had weren’t that great."

After Kase spoke, they glanced at Colin’s complicated expression and said with considerable displeasure, "What? The ice-face and the shorty get to talk about things they’ve eaten, so I can’t talk about what I’ve eaten? Is that it?"

"No, it’s fine..." Colin shrugged and headed into the tavern.

The tavern had a decent number of patrons, but everyone spoke in hushed voices, making the entire place remarkably quiet.

Colin felt the atmosphere was different from the "Mage’s Choice" that Morel had taken him to.

That place had a quiet, comfortable feeling; this one could be described as fraught with hidden danger.

The interior layout was similar to taverns on the Surface, except the lighting here came not from oil lamps but from stones with glowing mushrooms growing on them.

Additionally, three Skeleton heads were tied together and hung from the tavern’s ceiling. There was no flesh left on them, but they still had eyeballs in their sockets. Each one gazed in a different direction, seeming to take in the entire tavern view, like some kind of surveillance camera.

Colin looked toward the tavern’s counter.

Behind the counter stood an Elf with violet skin and long, white hair. He wore a form-fitting purple bodysuit and looked quite sharp and capable.

’A Drow, of all things. I hope this doesn’t cause any trouble,’ Colin thought.

Colin recalled what he had read about the Drow in books.

These Elves, exiled to the Underground by their own kin, were extremely warlike. Because the Spider Queen they worshipped favored females, their entire society was matriarchal, with women as the absolute rulers.

Also due to their Gods’ preferences, most Drow cities were rife with all manner of schemes, intrigue, and betrayal.

For this very reason, many Drow underwent extremely harsh military training. It was even said by some scholars that a single Drow Warrior could easily handle four Surface soldiers.

Because of the atmosphere within their society, most Drow had extremely difficult personalities.

These beings grew up amidst conspiracy and slaughter, with cruelty and violence etched into their very bones.

Colin took a deep breath.

Steeling himself, he walked up to the counter and asked in a low voice, "Do you have a menu?"