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 19
Tibs couldn't enjoy the town the same way. Walking the roofs just let him see how there was nothing outside of the town and the dungeon. The wood was gone, down to stumps, and even those were being removed so the town could expand in that direction.
Walking among the ever-thinning crowd he couldn't see other dungeon runners like him. Instead, he saw slaved with ever-tightening nooses around their necks going about their days in blissful ignorance. When he saw one of his teammates, he made sure they didn't see him.
The entire week of training was wasted, which made him feel worse as each day was three gold he now had to pay and didn't have anything to show for them. Alistair tried to make him feel better, but every explanation about how this was just how things were sounded like another stone put on his back.
He didn't want this to be how things were. He wanted them to be something else. He didn't want to have to live like this.
He wanted to run.
"You look like you learned some back news," Bardik said, standing next to him as Tibs looked out beyond the edge of the town, of his prison. There would be something over the horizon, every story said so. "Or is it a bad truth?"
"Do you care?" He asked. Unlike the early days, when adventurers always patrolled the town's edge, Tibs hadn't seen one for the entire time he'd stood there, looking into the distance, trying to decide if whatever was out there would be better than what was in here.
"I'd rather you didn't run," the adventurer said, sounding tired. "That's for sure?"
"Don't want to have to chase me?" He asked mockingly.
"I wouldn't chase you," Bardik answered, tone flat, and Tibs had to glance at him, also looking into the distance. "I'd have a knife in your back before you took thee steps." He looked at tips, and Tibs quickly look ahead again. "I don't want you to run, Tibs, because I'd rather you live."
"Live and do what?" Tibs demanded, rounding on the man. He pointed to Bardik's wrist. "Tell me how you got this."
"No."
"Did you try to run?"
"I'd be dead if I had." He rubbed the sleeve over his wrist. "This is because I accepted my fate."
"Accept my fate? The fate of having your guild step all over me? Turn me into a slave? You knew that's what they did because they did it to you too! How can you tell me to be proud of being Street? On my street, we don't let someone walk over us."
Bardik smiled. "You move out of the way, then kick them in the knees."
Tibs tried not to smile. "I aim higher."
The adventurer shrugged, his smile reaching his eyes now. "Every Street's different." He looked Tibs over. "Although I question your ability to reach that target, considering your size."
Tibs narrowed his eyes, losing the little humor that has built. "You want me to show you?"
"Maybe another day." Bardik looked at the horizon again. "Not letting someone walk over you doesn't mean you have to be off the street, Tibs. Sometimes you need to be in the middle of everyone, risk getting stepped on because that's the only place where you see where everyone's going."
Tibs so didn't have the desire to deal with the man's strange saying. "Are you here because you need me to pay for you training me?" at least that he could afford.
"No, you're wanted at the dungeon. There's a team that needs a thief."
Tibs looked at the horizon. Another day, maybe he'd run. He'd make sure to pick one where Bardik was busy at the dungeon. He turned and headed through the town to see which group of strangers he'd be dealing with this time.