RinthCon Day 1

Through the Fog

Gray is from the novel Shadows of Old Town by T. Olsen. References to, or interactions with, other characters are merely interdimensional, and constitute no assumption of canon or ownership of intellectual property.

Shadows of Old Town can be purchased here: https://books2read.com/u/m27XdR

T. Olsen can be found here: https://linktr.ee/tamiolsen

One moment I was sprinting around a corner trying to lose a pair of Copperguards, and the next I was staggering into what I thought was a wall of smoke. My immediately reaction was confusion—because I hadn’t seen any fire—followed closely by panic—because fires quickly turn deadly in the close confines of the slums of Old Town. I raised an arm to my face, expecting a sharp, choking lungful with my next breath, but instead it was damp and bitter, like if you could inhale wet lightning.

I stumbled to a stop and turned around, but I couldn’t see more than half a dozen feet in any direction. The strange fog was thick and white. More dense than anything I’d seen come off the river before. And it was on the wrong side of Old Town to be coming off the river now.

I turned back in the direction I’d been going—I think—and walked carefully with my hand extended so I didn’t find a wall with my face. I could no longer hear the shouts of the Coppers, or anything really. The fog seemed to deaden all sound.

After a few more paces I caught sight out of the corner of my eye of something moving. Something that dredged terrifying memories from the buried places in my mind. My heart leaped into my throat at the same time as I leaped forward, not caring what I might run into.

I knew that silhouette. That was a writhing tentacle.

I darted forward and skidded off stone, cursing under my breath as a clutched my bruised shoulder and barreled on. It couldn’t be. It was nowhere near time for the Night of Shadows, and it was midafternoon. Despite the heavy fog obscuring my sight, I could tell the sun was still shining. But impossible or not, my panicked brain wasn’t willing to risk it. I shot forward…

And stumbled out of the fog into an underground passage. I’d been on the streets above, and suddenly finding myself in the underground was disorienting, but only second on my list of shit that wasn’t supposed to be there. I looked over my shoulder for the more eldritch problem as I slowed to a stop in the empty tunnel.

The fog hung behind me like a wall, perfectly straight and roiling densely in place. Then it was broken by the shadowed form of a tentacle as it thrust into the space after me, and I hastily scrambled out of range, unable to keep myself from staring at it.

It wasn’t right. The shadowkraken’s tentacles should be black and leathery, smooth for most of their length, and much larger. As big around as a fat nobleman’s waist, even near the flopping tips. This monstrosity was slate gray on the top and a fleshy purple-pink on the underside with suckers that made wet smacking sounds. It was thin and flared out just a bit at the tip, and it moved forward inquisitively, searching for me. I fled around a corner of the tunnel.

That was no shadowkraken.

That’s when I realized the light in the tunnel wasn’t coming from greasy oil lamps. Instead there were long glass tubes attached near the ceiling that put off a glow brighter than any torch. The walls weren’t natural or cut stone, but some kind of green-tinted brick, slimy in places. The floor itself was brick as well.

Voices came from up ahead and I thought about hiding, but unless I wanted to go back toward the tentacles and the fog there was no place I wouldn’t easily be seen. I opted for self-assured. If you looked like you were supposed to be there, people wouldn’t question it.

The group rounded the corner in front of me and clattered to a stop with surprise clearly written across their faces. One of them—there were three, two men and a woman—wore a green robe over a pleated skirt with a blocky pattern of red and green lines. He was average height, but built thick, and carried a wickedly curved sword at either side of his wide leather belt. When he spoke up it was with a thick accent I couldn’t place, a lilting brogue that reminded me of the pirates that occasionally came down the river.

“What have we here? Didn’t think anyone would be this deep in the dungeon on day one.” He narrowed his eyes and took in my appearance. “Ye aren’t even armed, boy.”

I scowled back, brushing a hand down my vest as part of a nervous gesture and forcing myself to stop doing it as quickly as I noticed. I needed to be all cock-sure and casual, not anxious. These three were very well armed, and though the way they carried themselves seemed a little off, they obviously were comfortable with their weapons.

I used my enforcer tone. “I’m armed. I just don’t feel the need to advertise it to anyone.”

The lone woman stepped forward, her face splitting into a huge grin. “We’ve been looking for a rogue for the party!” She strode to my side, shifting a nasty-looking poleaxe to her other hand as she turned to face her comrades and clapped me on the back hard enough to force me to catch my balance.

The third member of their odd crew was shorter than the average man, built stocky and with the look of a bandit or a thug. He carried a huge axe over his shoulder, but not the kind of axe a laborer used. More like something you’d find as ornamentation in the temple of the Six. It was double-sided and gleaming silver, stamped with runes of some sort. He used a dirty hand to hold down his beard and spat on the brick floor, then glanced at each of his companions. “Don’t care what he is. Let’s just finish mapping this tunnel and go get some of that authentic period stew they’re serving at the Dice-hop.”

The first man nodded. “Right you are.”

The woman draped her arm around my shoulders and spun me back the way I’d come, but I resisted. No way was I going back to that fog and the inquisitive tentacles.

I slipped out from under her arm. “I don’t think we need to go that way. I was just there and found nothing interesting.”

They all looked at me with suspicious measuring gazes and I was sure they were going to call me on my bullshit, then the first man shrugged and dropped the intense look. “Good enough. Let’s call it a day then.” He extended a hand in my direction. “Name’s Clancy. Clancy MacTaggert. I’m a fighter slash mage slash druid.”

I didn’t know quite what to make of that introduction, and hesitantly reached for his hand. “Gray.”

He raised one bushy eyebrow, shaking my hand up and down enthusiastically. “Just Gray?”

I nodded.

He shrugged and finally let go, making room for the woman. She held out a hand with the fingers turned downward, like some kind of noblewoman. Her gauzy robes were filthy at the hem where they’d brushed the floor, and the rest of her accessories were fake baubles. Well-made, but still fake.

“I’m Claudette Mithralay, fighter mage.”

I intentionally misread her outstretched hand and clasped her fingers to shake up and down as I had with Clancy. She blushed, then withdrew her hand.

The shorter man spoke then as he turned back the way they’d come. “And I’m Clanton Sidian. Let’s go get some stew now that we’ve finished flapping like old ladies.”

The big man draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a distance eating stride, completely unconcerned with his surroundings now. “Welcome to the group! You’re not already partied up are you? I hear there’s a lot more D&D stuff going on this year. Apparently word of Ed’s track last year got around and people want the authentic experience again this year.”

I blinked a couple of times, trying to piece together the admittedly common words into something that made sense to my brain. “I’m not with anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking? What’s D&D stuff?”

Clancy got a big grin on his face. “Just a reenactment fan? That’s perfect. We like to play freestyle too.”

I chanced a final look over my shoulder, but there was no sign of fog or tentacle coming after us, so maybe it wouldn’t follow. Now all I had to do was figure out where I was, because this wasn’t Sangarie. I’d have sensed the magic of a portal, so it wasn’t that either, but something had brought me to an unfamiliar place with strange people. I needed to pay attention so I could at least find my way back here to try to get home.