Dungeon Runner
The Tiger Writes
sciencefiction
sciencefiction
31K5
Tibs survived by picking pockets; until he's caught.
Instead of losing a hand, he's sent away and told he must now survive a dungeon.
How is a kid who knew nothing more than his ...Bottom Rung, Chapter 11
"Tibs!" a woman yelled and he looked over his shoulder from where he was sitting, trying to get a lock open.
Because he'd showed more skill with picking locks than most, the teacher had given him a more complex one, and instead of letting him use the picks he provided everyone else, he'd given Tibs a box with the kind of scrap he might find in a house. As if Tibs wasn't already used to that. It wasn't like he'd owned a set of picks. The times he'd managed to steal one, he hadn't been able to keep them long.
Being small and weak had its disadvantage.
"We're up!" She yelled again.
She couldn't make him out, sitting on the grass among other rogues working on their own skills with locks or disarming traps.
"He isn't here," the teacher replied just as Tibs stood and received a glare from the man; as if the fact he didn't know who Tibs was or if he'd been there or not was Tibs fault. Tibs handed him the open lock and walked toward the fighter.
"How have you been?" she asked.
"Alive," he replied, trying to make his tone sour, but relieved she was still alive. Since their last run together, she'd done everything she could to find him for meals or just to talk. Among the town he could easily avoid her, but when he ate he had to endure her conversations. And, he had to admit, he was starting to enjoy her company.
"Have you been on any other runs?"
"One." He didn't plan on adding anything. "It was horrible."
The group had been completely disorganized, fighting about who was in charge, about how which room should be handled. Tibs had been ignored in favor of the other rogue, a girl a little older than Tibs, that kept pressing against the archer. They'd lost the sorcerer to the trap room, and when they argued again about the boulder room, Tibs had decided to stop trying. He followed behind the rogue and fighter. They didn't know about Ariana's trick and were tripped and then eaten. Tibs stood still by the bodies and sliced the rats that climbed on top of the boulders to get at him.
He'd been nervous, but not scared. Bardik's training was paying off. He'd had to kill four rats in the process of dragging the rogue's body back out of the room, by which time the archer was being brought down by more rats. Tibs gathered five coins, the two shirts, the knife, bow, and quiver; enough that as he left the table where he returned the items, he'd realized his roll of coins was getting heavy and he needed to start thinking about either an actual coin pouch or a new set of clothing made from heavier material, in which he could sew hidden pockets.
"At least you were smart enough not to let their stupidity pull you down with them." She pulled him closer with an arm before letting go. "Sorry." Tibs didn't move away, and tentatively she placed her arm around his shoulder again.
They walked by the Long in the Tooth tavern and Tibs looked through the open door at the lighter crowd—it was no longer the only tavern; at Old Walrus behind the bar.
"We can probably grab a tankard if you want," she offered, noticing where he'd looked. Tibs shook his head.
He'd avoided the tavern, only looking in from the door, trying to determine if anything had happened. If the goal of what Bardik had had Tibs do had been to cause the tavern owner trouble, it had been dealt with quietly. If it had been a message, the signal for some plan, nefarious or otherwise, it was either still ongoing, or had happened so carefully even he hadn't noticed anything.
And Bardik was still walking around, ignoring Tibs unless they were training or he was behind the table when Tibs returned from a run.
They had to walk further to leave the town this time, new tents being added as wooden buildings replaced those closer to the center of the town and the stone platform.