Damp bricks formed a low arch as mould, fungus and unknown slime spread, feasting on the detritus present in the sewer. Pitch black, he could only see with his Darkvision, the tunnel rendered in flat shades of grey that washed away all sense of depth.

  Kaius scrunched his nose, balling his skirts in his hands as he stepped over a puddle of unknown sludge, and the motion was awkward with his prosthetic. He moved fine, but the lack of sensation left him feeling clunky and unbalanced.

  The skirt was a necessary factor, one he'd fashioned from a length of grey cloth he'd had in his storage ring. It would be eye-catching; such a thing was not quite fashionable for men on the frontier, like he'd heard it was in some places far to the west. That said, a little foreign extravagance would be far less notable than openly brandishing the metal of his leg. Even with trousers and his boot covering most of it, it was clear that the limb was false and its motion just a little too fluid to not raise questions. He’d buy some roomier trousers to hide its hard angles soon enough, but for now he'd have to hope his attempts at hiding the thing would hold up.

  Thankfully, exiting the sewers was a far less painful experience than their first trip. It must have rained in the city above for some time in the last day or two, washing away most of the muck. The place was still rank, but it was bearable, each of them able to power through it with naught but a determined grimace on their face.

  Thankfully, it wouldn't be much longer. They were close to the sluice gate through which they had entered, right in the Delvers' Quarter; from there they would be able to quickly make their way to the Guildhall.

  Only half a dozen bends from their exit, Porkchop suddenly halted at the head of their group, ears pricking.

  “What's up?” Kaius asked.

  His stats were high enough that he could just barely make out the general hubbub of people going about their lives in the streets above, but Porkchop's hearing was naturally far sharper than his.

  “I'm not sure. There's some sort of commotion. Lots of people moving — they sound stressed. Maybe we should hurry up.”

  Kaius frowned. Some sort of street brawl, perhaps? It was unusual for the Delvers' Quarter, but tensions had been running high in the city.

  Ianmus and Kenva seemed equally confused.

  “Let’s,” he replied.They picked up the pace.

  If there was some sort of confrontation going on that involved delvers, things could get messy. Due to the simple power disparity that was often present between city guards and proper delvers, there was an element of self-policing involved. Even if the average guard was far stronger than they had been before the phase change, so were his guildmates. Things could get messy. Of anyone, they were the best suited to step in, if need be. Hells, they probably wouldn't even need to act physically. The simple aura of their authority would likely be enough, even for Steel.

  Leaping to the path on the opposite side of the sewer, they took the next right. Light spilled around the corner ahead, bringing colour with it. Grey stone was joined by a multitudinous smear of green and brown.

  They reached a set of stairs in moments, and raced to the iron gate that was their exit at the end of their expedition. It was locked, but they'd been given a key.

  They were tucked down an alley far from the main streets, the surrounding buildings hiding any evidence of whatever Porkchop had heard. Though Kaius himself could hear it now — the heavy patter of running feet and the general grumble of voices speaking in hushed tones.

  It didn't sound like a brawl.

  Kaius shared a confused look with his team before they left for the main streets. Something was up. Surely someone would be able to tell them what.

  Almost unconsciously, he took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and the sun that shone from above. His thoughts might have been preoccupied, but it was still good to be above ground again.

  Minor bedlam awaited them when they left the alleys.

  Normally, the Delvers' Quarter was relatively quiet compared to the rest of the city. While delvers tended to get raucous in their inns and even the Guildhall, the average combat classer was aware of just how much more capable they were than the average citizen, and tried to keep things respectable.

  That didn't stop most from leaving the Delvers' Quarter well enough alone. Even if they did feel comfortable surrounding themselves with others so much stronger than them, the services available were niche and expensive.

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  It meant, normally, the streets were quiet, with only a few going about their business.

  That relative peace had evaporated. Groups gathered in front of shops, whispering in hushed tones. Kaius caught sight of nearly a dozen people running through the streets with concerned looks on their faces.

  One came close, rushing away in the opposite direction to where the Guild lay. A tall man, dressed in leathers — a delver. Judging by the flash of an Iron medallion that Kaius caught glinting on his hip, a rather experienced one.

  Something was off. They had to know what.

  “Ho there,” he said, stepping out of the alley to wave the man down, giving the man plenty of time to spot him and react.

  Kaius saw the delver notice and dismiss him in his haste, only for the man to snap back as his eyes widened in recognition.

  “You. You're Kaius, right?” the man said, skidding to a halt.

  The obvious, relieved droop of the tension in the man's shoulders worried him. He wouldn't be glad to see him unless something had happened.

  “You need to get to the Guild,” the delver continued. “Dross was found outside the city, half dead from exhaustion. There's been no sign of Bronwyn and the others. Ro’s got him, but she's playing mum. There's some danger out there that's taken out Silvers. Fuck, I dunno. I just thought you should know.”

  “Headmaster’s beard,” Ianmus whispered, horrified.

  Kaius's stomach dropped. Surely he'd misheard the man. Or the rumour mill had gotten out of control. Bronwyn's team, they just couldn't… It wasn't possible. They were too seasoned for him to accept it. They were experienced! It had been a simple bloody scouting mission!

  They had to get to the Guild. Now.

  “We move!” he said, turning back to his team.

  “On my back,” Porkchop replied.

  Kaius nodded, kicking off with his good leg as he tangled one hand into Porkchop's scruff and hoisted himself onto his brother’s back. The motion was awkward with the weight of his prosthetic, and he nearly tumbled off as the extra momentum made him overshoot.

  He knew it was the very reason Porkchop had suggested it in the first place. He still wasn't used to his prosthetic. There was no way that he could keep pace with his team's top speed like this.

  They were off a moment later, drawing gasps and panicked murmurs as Ianmus, Kenva and Porkchop wove their way through the groups of people.

  There should have been a rush — feeling the wind rush through his hair as he felt Porkchop explode with raw power to tear across the city.

  Yet he couldn't get that delver's words out of his head.

  Dross had returned alone. It was impossible. Gods, let it just be a story twisted by the rumour mill.

  Surely they had just discovered some matter of urgency or a dire emergency that required backup, and they had sent their ranger.

  It had to be. And if that was the case, he and his team would be ready to respond to the call. There was no one else here. Not in the current circumstances.

  Taking another corner, Kaius saw the looming height of the Guildhall towering over the surrounding buildings, visible despite the fact they were still blocks away. The damned thing was as enrapturing as a funeral pyre, a suffocating weight of dread that blanketed him in its shadow.

  Beneath him, Kaius felt the barely suppressed simmer of Porkchop's anger, scorching him through their bond.

  “I liked them, Kaius. If they have been killed, we burn Strangspine to the ground.”

  The very thought of it darkened his dread into cold determination. That they would.

  Reprisals would be had. Gods. He'd been looking forward to finally getting to know the fellow Silvers. Everything he'd heard and everything he'd seen had painted them as competent, gregarious folk who worked hard for the betterment of their city and the people in its surrounding lands. They were a beacon for the people of Deadacre. Something to aspire to. If that had been extinguished…

  No. They couldn't be gone. There was some other explanation.

  As Porkchop took another pounding leap, Kaius felt his prosthetic tug at his leg. He'd nearly forgotten about it. Gods. Of all the times to get a crippling injury that would last for months.

  He squashed the thought.

  He could manage just fine. Whatever was needed, he would do it.

  Arriving at the base of the Guild, they barely slowed to give the delvers who were milling about the time to part for their approach. Kaius dismounted, making sure to land on his good leg as he raced up the stairs.

  Kenva and Ianmus made it there first, not having slowed to wait for him.

  Kenva ripped open the door. They were confronted with a packed common room. It fell silent as soon as they arrived.

  “Where's Ro?” Kenva yelled.

  “With Dross. Third floor infirmary,” someone yelled from deep within the pack.

  Silently, a passage opened for them, and as one, they raced for the stairs as a team, driven forward by grim urgency.

  Rooms and halls passed in a blur, until suddenly they were there. Ro was outside, her mouth drawn into a tight line of grim resignation.

  “Oh, bless the gods and their small mercies,” Ro said as she spotted them. “You're back. Come with me. There's an office nearby. I need an immediate debrief. We have an emergency on our hands.”

  Before she swept away down the hall, Kaius saw Ro's mouth purse shut as her eye lingered on the prosthetic that he'd hidden by his makeshift skirt.

  The Guild administrator's words deepened that cold weight in his belly. Sharing a long look with his team, they hurried after her.

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